The Letters of Henry James. Vol. II
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Генри Джеймс. The Letters of Henry James. Vol. II
VI. Rye (continued) (1904-1909)
To W. D. Howells
To Edward Lee Childe
To W. E. Norris
To Mrs. Julian Sturgis
To J. B. Pinker
To Henry James, junior
To Mrs. W. K. Clifford
To Edmund Gosse
To W. E. Norris
To Edmund Gosse
To Mrs. W. K. Clifford
To Edward Warren
To Mrs. William James
To William James
To Miss Margaret James
To H. G. Wells
To William James
To W. E. Norris
To Paul Harvey
To William James
To William James
To Miss Margaret James
To Mrs. Dew-Smith
To Mrs. Wharton
To W. E. Norris
To Thomas Sergeant Perry
To Gaillard T. Lapsley
To Bruce Porter
To Miss Grace Norton
To William James, junior
To Howard Sturgis
To Howard Sturgis
To Madame Wagnière
To Mrs. Wharton
To Miss Gwenllian Palgrave
To William James
To W. E. Norris
To W. E. Norris
To Dr. and Mrs. J. William White
To Mrs. Wharton
To Gaillard T. Lapsley
To Mrs. Wharton
To Henry James, junior
To W. D. Howells
To Mrs. Wharton
To J.B. Pinker
To Miss Ellen Emmet
To George Abbot James
To Hugh Walpole
To George Abbot James
To W.E. Norris
To Mrs. Henry White
To W. D. Howells
To Edward Lee Childe
To Hugh Walpole
To Mrs. Wharton
To Arthur Christopher Benson
To Charles Sayle
To Mrs. W.K. Clifford
To Miss Grace Norton
To William James
To H. G. Wells
To Miss Henrietta Reubell
To William James
To Mrs. Wharton
To Madame Wagnière
To Thomas Sergeant Perry
To Owen Wister
VII. RYE AND CHELSEA (1910-1914)
To T. Bailey Saunders
To Mrs. Wharton
To Miss Jessie Allen
To Mrs. Bigelow
To W. E. Norris
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. Wharton
To Bruce Porter
To Miss Grace Norton
To Thomas Sergeant Perry
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. Charles Hunter
To Mrs. W. K. Clifford
To W. E. Norris
To Mrs. Wharton
To Miss Rhoda Broughton
To H. G. Wells
To C. E. Wheeler
To Dr. J. William White
To T. Bailey Sanders
To Sir T. H. Warren
To Miss Ellen Emmet
To Howard Sturgis
To Mrs. William James
To Mrs. John L. Gardner
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. Wilfred Sheridan
To Miss Alice Runnells
To Mrs. Frederic Harrison
To Miss Theodora Bosanquet
To Mrs. William James
To Mrs. Wharton
To W. E. Norris
To Miss M. Betham Edwards
To Wilfred Sheridan
To Walter V. R. Berry
To W. D. Howells
To Mrs. Wharton
To H. G. Wells
To Lady Bell
To Mrs. W. K. Clifford
To Hugh Walpole
To Miss Rhoda Broughton
To Henry James, junior
To R. W. Chapman
To Hugh Walpole
To Edmund Gosse
To Edmund Gosse
To Edmund Gosse
To Edmund Gosse
To Edmund Gosse
To Edmund Gosse
To H. G. Wells
To Mrs. Humphry Ward
To Mrs. Humphry Ward
To Gaillard T. Lapsley
To John Bailey
To Dr. J. William White
To Edmund Gosse
To Mrs. Bigelow
To Robert C. Witt
To Mrs. Wharton
To A. F. de Navarro
To Henry James, junior
To Miss Grace Norton
To Mrs. Henry White
To Mrs. William James
To Bruce Porter
To Lady Ritchie
To Mrs. William James
To Percy Lubbock
To two hundred and seventy Friends
To Mrs. G. W. Prothero
To William James, junior
To Miss Rhoda Broughton
To Mrs. Alfred Sutro
To Hugh Walpole
To Mrs. Archibald Grove
To William Roughead, W. S
To Mrs. William James
To Howard Sturgis
To Mrs. G. W. Prothero
To H. G. Wells
To Logan Pearsall Smith
To C. Hagberg Wright
To Robert Bridges
To André Raffalovich
To Henry James, junior
To Edmund Gosse
To Bruce L. Richmond
To Hugh Walpole
To Compton Mackenzie
To William Roughead, W.S
To Mrs. Wharton
To Dr. J. William White
To Henry Adams
To Mrs. William James
To Arthur Christopher Benson
To Mrs. Humphry Ward
To Thomas Sergeant Perry
To Mrs. Wharton
To William Roughead, W. S
To William Roughead, W. S
To Mrs. Alfred Sutro
To Sir Claude Phillips
VIII. The War (1914-1916)
To Howard Sturgis
To Henry James, junior
To Mrs. Alfred Sutro
To Miss Rhoda Broughton
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. W. K. Clifford
To William James, junior
To Mrs. W. K. Clifford
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. Richard Watson Gilder
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. T. S. Perry
To Miss Rhoda Broughton
To Edmund Gosse
To Miss Grace Norton
To Mrs. Wharton
To Thomas Sergeant Perry
To Henry James, junior
To Hugh Walpole
To Mrs. Wharton
To Mrs. T. S. Perry
To Edmund Gosse
To Miss Grace Norton
To Mrs. Dacre Vincent
To the Hon. Evan Charteris
To Compton Mackenzie
To Miss Elizabeth Norton
To Hugh Walpole
To Mrs. Henry Cabot Lodge
To Mrs. William James
To Mrs. Wharton
To the Hon. Evan Charteris
To Mrs. Wharton
To Thomas Sergeant Perry
To Edward Marsh
To Edward Marsh
To Mrs. Wharton
To Edward Marsh
To G. W. Prothero
To Wilfred Sheridan
To Edward Marsh
To Edward Marsh
To Compton Mackenzie
To Henry James, junior
To Edmund Gosse
To J. B. Pinker
To Frederic Harrison
To H. G. Wells
To H. G. Wells
To Henry James, junior
To Edmund Gosse
To John S. Sargent
To Wilfred Sheridan
To Edmund Gosse
To Mrs. Wilfred Sheridan
To Hugh Walpole
Отрывок из книги
The much-debated visit to America took place at last in 1904, and in ten very full months Henry James secured that renewed saturation in American experience which he desired before it should be too late for his advantage. He saw far more of his country in these months than he had ever seen in old days. He went with the definite purpose of writing a book of impressions, and these were to be principally the impressions of a "restored absentee," reviving the sunken and overlaid memories of his youth. But his memories were practically of New York, Newport and Boston only; to the country beyond he came for the most part as a complete stranger; and his voyage of new discovery proved of an interest as great as that which he found in revisiting ancient haunts. The American Scene, rather than the letters he was able to write in the midst of such a stir of movement, gives his account of the adventure. On the spot the daily assault of sensation, besetting him wherever he turned, was too insistent for deliberate report; he quickly saw that his book would have to be postponed for calmer hours at home; and his letters are those of a man almost overwhelmed by the amount that is being thrown upon his power of absorption. But the book he eventually wrote shews how fully that power was equal to it all—losing or wasting none of it, meeting and reacting to every moment. Ten months of America poured into his imagination, as he intended they should, a vast mass of strange material—the familiar part of it now after so many years the strangest of all, perhaps; and his imagination worked upon it in one unbroken rage of interest. He was now more than sixty years old, but for such adventures of perception and discrimination his strength was greater than ever.
He sailed from England at the end of August, 1904, and spent most of the autumn with William James and his family, first at Chocorua, their country-home in the mountains of New Hampshire, and then at Cambridge. The rule he had made in advance against the paying of other visits was abandoned at once; he was in the centre of too many friendships and too many opportunities for extending and enlarging them. With Cambridge still as his headquarters he widely improved his knowledge of New England, which had never reached far into the countryside. At Christmas he was in New York—the place that was much more his home, as he still felt, than Boston had ever become, yet of all his American past the most unrecognisable relic in the portentous changes of twenty years. He struck south, through Philadelphia and Washington, in the hope of meeting the early Virginian spring; but it happened to be a year of unusually late snows, and his impressions of the southern country, most of which was quite unknown to him, were unfortunately marred. He found the right sub-tropical benignity in Florida, but a particular series of engagements brought him back after a brief stay. It had been natural that he should be invited to celebrate his return to America by lecturing in public; but that he should do so, and even with enjoyment, was more surprising, and particularly so to himself. He began by delivering a discourse on "The Lesson of Balzac"—a closely wrought critical study, very attractive in form and tone—at Bryn Mawr College, Pennsylvania, and was immediately solicited to repeat it elsewhere. He did this in the course of the winter at various other places, so providing himself at once with the means and the occasion for much more travel and observation than he had expected. By Chicago, St. Louis, and Indianapolis he reached California in April, 1905. "The Lesson of Balzac" was given several times, until for a second visit to Bryn Mawr he wrote another paper, "The Question of our Speech"—an amusing and forcible appeal for care in the treatment of spoken English. The two lectures were afterwards published in America, but have not appeared in England.
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He reached Lamb House again in August, 1905, and immediately set to work on his American book. It grew at such a rate that he presently found he had filled a large volume without nearly exhausting his material; but by that time the whole experience seemed remote and faint, and he felt it impossible to go further with it. The wreckage of San Francisco, moreover, by the great earthquake and fire of 1906, drove his own Californian recollections still further from his mind. He left The American Scene a fragment, therefore, and turned to another occupation which engaged him very closely for the next two years. This was the preparation of the revised and collected edition of his works, or at least of so much of his fiction as he could find room for in a limited number of volumes. To read his own books was an entirely new amusement to him; they had always been rigidly thrust out of sight from the moment they were finished and done with; and he came back now to his early novels with a perfectly detached critical curiosity. He took each of them in hand and plunged into the enormous toil, not indeed of modifying its substance in any way—where he was dissatisfied with the substance he rejected it altogether—but of bringing its surface, every syllable of its diction, to the level of his exigent taste. At the same time, in the prefaces to the various volumes, he wrote what became in the end a complete exposition of his theory of the art of fiction, intertwined with the memories of past labour that he found everywhere in the much-forgotten pages. It all represented a great expenditure of time and trouble, besides the postponement of new work; and there is no doubt that he was deeply disappointed by the half-hearted welcome that the edition met with after all, schooled as he was in such discouragements.
While he was on this work he scarcely stirred from Lamb House except for occasional interludes of a few weeks in London; and it was not until the spring of 1907 that he allowed himself a real holiday. He then went abroad for three months, beginning with a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Wharton in Paris and a motor-tour with them over a large part of western and southern France. With all his French experience, Paris of the Faubourg St. Germain and France of the remote country-roads were alike almost new to him, and the whole episode was matter of the finest sort for his imagination. From The American to The Ambassadors he had written scores of pages about Paris, but none more romantic than a paragraph or two of The Velvet Glove, in which he recorded an impression of this time—a sight of the quays and the Seine on a blue and silver April night. From Paris he passed on to his last visit, as it proved, to his beloved Italy. It was the tenth he had made since his settlement in England in 1876. Like every one else, perhaps, who has ever known Rome in youth, he found Rome violated and vulgarised in his age, but here too the friendly "chariot of fire" helped him to a new range of discoveries at Subiaco, Monte Cassino, and in the Capuan plain. He spent a few days at a friend's house on the mountain-slope below Vallombrosa, and a few more, the best of all, in Venice, at the ever-glorious Palazzo Barbaro. That was the end of Italy, but he was again in Paris for a short while in the following spring, 1908, motoring thither from Amiens with his hostess of the year before.
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