Tag Archives: Portrait of a Lady

An American in Italy, continued

This is an addendum to my previous entry: Faded greatness seems so passe. It’s the standard trope for the decay in Edgar Allen Poe or the early Romantics, whether it be Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey” or the physical decay of Frankenstein’s monster. At one point in my life, I was a devoted enough reader of Louisa […]

An American in Italy?

In reading Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady, I’ve been struck by his dismissal of Paris. It seems almost egregious that an American should not be fascinated by Paris, and yet, he constantly turns to Northern Italy to shed light on the glory of Europe. I felt like I was walking the streets of […]