The Other House

Macmillan, 1897 - 386 pages
2 Avis
James pursued for many years a career as a playwright. The Other House was originally conceived as a play, but when it did not garner much interest he then wrote it out to be a novel. It is also unusual for him as the main conflict is centered around a murder.

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LibraryThing Review

Avis d'utilisateur  - proustitute - LibraryThing

4.5/5 stars A tricky book to rate, and more thoughts coming soon—likely lengthy thoughts. Despite how this novel is considered a "minor" James, I think it's a pivotal one, one that shows his shift ... Consulter l'avis complet

LibraryThing Review

Avis d'utilisateur  - stillatim - LibraryThing

Worst James I've read? Certainly. I recognize that there are reasons for that: this was meant to be a play, and he's much better at understated moral turmoil than understated murderous rage. And if ... Consulter l'avis complet

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Page 18 - It would be very sweet and attractive of me to say I adore them; but I never pretend to feelings I can't keep up, don't you know? If you'd like, all the same, to see Effie," she obligingly added, " I'll so far sacrifice myself as to get her for you ? " Jean smiled as if this pleasantry were contagious.
Page 174 - I've an idea that has become a passion with me. There's a right I must see done — there's a wrong I must make impossible. There's a loyalty I must cherish — there's a memory I must protect. That's all I can say." She stood there in her vivid meaning like the priestess of a threatened altar. " If that girl becomes your wife — why, then I'm at last at rest!
Page 14 - ... put in" but the splendour of the hair and the grace of the clothes — clothes that were not as the clothes of Wilverley. The reflection of these things came back to Jean from a pair of eyes as to which she judged that the extreme lightness of their grey was what made them so strange as to be ugly — a reflection that spread into a sudden smile from a wide, full-lipped mouth, whose regular office, obviously, was to produce the second impression. In a flash of small square white teeth this second...
Page 19 - Short and solid, with rounded corners and full supports, her hair very black and very flat, her eyes very small for the amount of expression they could show, Mrs. Beever was so " early Victorian " as to be almost prehistoric — was constructed to move amid massive mahogany and sit upon banks of Berlin-wool.
Page 184 - It represented something that no lapse could long quench — something that gave out the measureless white ray of a light steadily revolving. She could sometimes turn it away, but it was always somewhere ; and now it covered him with a great cold lustre that made everything, for the moment, look hard and ugly — made him also feel the chill of a complication for which he had not allowed. He had had plenty of complications in life, but he had likewise had ways of dealing with them that were in general...
Page 283 - I adored her poor mother — and she's hers. That's my ground, that's my love, that's my faith.' ' She caught Erne up again; she held her in two strong arms and dealt her a kiss that was a long consecration. "It's as your dear dead mother's, my own my sweet, that— if it's time— I shall carry you to bed!
Page 383 - I did what I could. It was all that I saw — it was all that was left me. It took hold of me, it possessed me: it was the last gleam of a chance." Paul flushed like a sick man under a new wave of weakness. "Of a chance for what?" "To make him hate her. You'll say my calculation was grotesque — my stupidity as ignoble as my crime. All I can answer is that I might none the less have succeeded. People have — in worse conditions. But I don't defend myself — I'm face to face with my mistake. I'm...
Page 238 - She spoke without discernible excitement, and Tony had already become aware that the face she actually showed him was not a thing to make him estimate directly the effect wrought in her by the incongruous result of the influence he had put forth under the pressure of her ardour.
Page 202 - ... usual" flashes of fondness. There had been no worrying question of the light this particular flash might kindle ; he had never had to ask himself what his appreciation of Jean Martle might lead to. It would lead to exactly nothing — that had been settled, all round, in advance. This was a happy, lively provision that kept everything down, made sociability a cool, public, out-of-door affair, without a secret or a mystery...
Page 148 - ... Bowl. And he dotes, devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry upon the enriched consciousness, the general awareness, and the physical loveliness of his women. He can not abide a plain heroine, even if she is to be a criminal. Of Rose, the murderess in The Other House, he says the most exquisite things — " She carries the years almost as you do, and her head better than any young woman I've ever seen. Life is somehow becoming to her.

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