more henry james
“She was little more than a rugged relic, a plain prosaic result of him, as if she had somehow been pulled through him as through an obstinate funnel, only to be left crumpled and useless and with nothing in her but what he accounted for. She had grown red and fat, which were not happy signs of mourning…”
This is a description of Katie Croy’s sister Marian in The Wings of the Dove. I do still love it, like I did the first time around, but, jesus! How had I so forgotten how righteously violent some of James’s descriptions could be?
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