"1. The Custom of the Country is kind of Vanity Fair for Americans in the early 20th century (unless it is the late 19th century!). Admittedly, I haven't read Vanity Fair so I am talking from osmosis here, but Becky Sharp's come far enough in the cultural consciousness that the parallels are extremely tempting. Undine Spragg is the kind of beautiful but unscrupulous woman who claws her way upwards, shedding husbands and nevertheless obsessing over respectability. Scarlett O'Hara, who came later, is probably the refinement of this type, which is maybe why she is both iconic and beloved now; the things that make Scarlett kind of a horrible person contribute to our love for her, and her personal difficulties make her understandable . . . but never excusable. Undine is simply greedy, rather than ambitious - she doesn't dream, and she doesn't want something until she sees someone else having it. Ralph Marvell describes her as a woman with "violent desires and . . . cold tenacity"; Undine destroys him, though she doesn't mean to, several years after their actual divorce. She ends up on top, stuffed but still unsatisfied.
2. Like Colette, Edith Wharton's women are often more vigorous than her men. Her female characters are hungry, active, determined, single-minded. Her men tend to be softer creatures - sometimes they have steel underneath their down stuffing (in The Custom of the Country, Raymond de Chelles fits this type), but mostly they don't. But equally as often, she writes members of both sexes as lost and bewildered - The House of Mirth is perhaps the best example of that approach - and there's something of that in The Custom of the Country although Undine is, necessarily, a woman of the vigorous and hungry type. She's out of her depth for most of the novel; shockingly, this does not lead to happiness! Like, who knew! The man she's "meant for" is, of course, the masculine version of her, though able to actually earn money (Undine just spends it) and with some unsuspected depths (he's basically a Rhett Butler prototype). But it seems ridiculous to talk about Undine Spragg in terms of relationships, since she doesn't understand them, has no interest in sex, and is not emotionally expressive; she is beautiful, and she wants but she essentially eats her way through the world: once you've eaten, you just get hungry again later, and this is exactly how Undine goes through the world.
3. Despite the preceding point, Wharton's books resist dichotomies and dualisms with admirable consistency. She doesn't shy away from contrast, but her contrasts are layered and carefully shaded. It's not an either/or for Wharton.
4. The Custom of the Country is the kind of book you can read without picking up the satire. There's an edge to all her works, but she's so smooth that you can finish them without noticing it. (And I say this as a person who loathes Ethan Frome, okay?) But you should keep an eye out for that edge, because Wharton's actually hilarious when she wants to be, when she thinks you're smart enough to pick up on it. And, interestingly, the satire is hardly ever directed at Undine."
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Madeline (5 out of 5 stars)