Wheel of Life , livre ebook

The Floating Press - Ellen Glasgow

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

239 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

Born, raised and educated in Richmond, Virginia, novelist Ellen Glasgow began to receive literary acclaim for her realistic portraits of life in the region. However, with the novel The Wheel of Life, Glasgow shifts the scene to bustling New York City, where poet Laura Wilde attempts to navigate the treacherous waters of romance.

Sujets

Romance

Informations

Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 avril 2016
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776599370
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

THE WHEEL OF LIFE
* * *
ELLEN GLASGOW

*
The Wheel of Life First published in 1906 Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-937-0 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-938-7 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
PART I - IMPULSE Chapter I - In Which the Romantic Hero is Conspicuous by His Absence Chapter II - Treats of an Eccentric Family Chapter III - Apologises for an Old-Fashioned Atmosphere Chapter IV - Ushers in the Modern Spirit Chapter V - In Which a Young Man Dreams Dreams Chapter VI - Shows that Mr. Worldly-Wise-Man May Belong to Either Sex Chapter VII - The Irresistible Force Chapter VIII - Proves that a Poor Lover May Make an Excellent Friend Chapter IX - Of Masques and Mummeries Chapter X - Shows the Hero to Be Lacking in Heroic Qualities Chapter XI - In Which a Lie is the Better Part of Truth PART II - ILLUSION Chapter I - Of Pleasure as the Chief End of Man Chapter II - An Advance and a Retreat Chapter III - The Moth and the Flame Chapter IV - Treats of the Attraction of Opposites Chapter V - Shows the Dangers as Well as the Pleasures of the Chase Chapter VI - The Finer Vision Chapter VII - In Which Failure is Crowned by Failure Chapter VIII - "The Small Old Path" Chapter IX - The Triumph of the Ego Chapter X - In Which Adams Comes into His Inheritance Chapter XI - On the Wings of Life PART III - DISENCHANTMENT Chapter I - A Disconsolate Lover and a Pair of Blue Eyes Chapter II - The Deification of Clay Chapter III - The Greatest of These Chapter IV - Adams Watches in the Night and Sees the Dawn Chapter V - Treats of the Poverty of Riches Chapter VI - The Feet of the God Chapter VII - In Which Kemper is Puzzled Chapter VIII - Shows that Love Without Wisdom is Folly Chapter IX - Of the Fear in Love Chapter X - The End of the Path PART IV - RECONCILIATION Chapter I - The Secret Chambers Chapter II - In Which Laura Enters the Valley of Humiliation Chapter III - Proves a Great City to Be a Great Solitude Chapter IV - Shows that True Love is True Service Chapter V - Between Laura and Gerty Chapter VI - Renewal
PART I - IMPULSE
*
Chapter I - In Which the Romantic Hero is Conspicuous by His Absence
*
As the light fell on her face Gerty Bridewell awoke, stifled a yawn withher pillow, and remembered that she had been very unhappy when she wentto bed. That was only six hours ago, and yet she felt now that herunhappiness and the object of it, which was her husband, were of lessdisturbing importance to her than the fact that she must get up andstand for three minutes under the shower bath in her dressing-room. Witha sigh she pressed the pillow more firmly under her cheek, and laylooking a little wistfully at her maid, who, having drawn back thecurtains at the window, stood now regarding her with the discreet andconfidential smile which drew from her a protesting frown of irritation.
"Well, I can't get up until I've had my coffee," she said in a voicewhich produced an effect of mournful brightness rather than of anger, "Ihaven't the strength to put so much as my foot out of bed."
Her eyes followed the woman across the room and through the door, andthen, turning instinctively to the broad mirror above her dressingtable, hung critically upon the brilliant red and white reflection inthe glass. It was her comforting assurance that every woman looked herbest in bed; and as she lay now, following the lines of her charmingfigure beneath the satin coverlet, she found herself wondering, notwithout resentment, why the possession of a beauty so conspicuous shouldafford her only a slight and temporary satisfaction. Last week a womanwhom she knew had had her nose broken in an automobile accident, and asshe remembered this it seemed to her that the mere fact of herundisfigured features was sufficient to be the cause of joyfulgratitude. But this, she knew, was not so, for her face was perfectlyunharmed; and yet she felt that she could hardly have been moremiserable, even with a broken nose.
Here she paused for an instant in order to establish herself securely inher argument, for, though she could by no stretch of the imaginationregard her mind as of a meditative cast, there are hours when even tothe most flippant experience wears the borrowed mantle of philosophy.Abstract theories of conduct diverted her but little; what she wantedwas some practical explanation of the mental weariness she felt. Whatshe wanted, she repeated, as if to drive in the matter with a finalblow, was to be as happy in the actual condition as she had told herselfthat she might be when as yet the actual was only the ideal. Why, forinstance, when she had been wretched with but one man on the box, shouldthe addition of a second livery fail to produce in her the contentmentof which she had often dreamed while she disconsolately regarded asingle pair of shoulders? That happiness did not masquerade in liveryshe had learned since she had triumphantly married the richest man sheknew, and the admission of this brought her almost with a jump to thebitter conclusion of her unanswerable logic—for the satisfaction whichwas not to be found in a footman was absent as well from the imposingfigure of Perry Bridewell himself. Yet she told herself that she wouldhave married him had he possessed merely the historical penny, and therestless infatuation of those first months was still sufficiently aliveto lend the colour of its pleasing torment to her existence.
Lying there, in her French embroidered night dress, with her brilliantred hair pushed back from her forehead, she began idly to follow thehistories of the people whom she knew, and it seemed to her that each ofthem was in some particular circumstance more fortunate than she. Butshe would have changed place with none, not even with her best friend,Laura Wilde, who was perfectly content because she lived buried away inGramercy Park and wrote vague beautiful verse that nobody ever read.Laura filled as little part in what she called "the world" as GramercyPark occupied in modern progress, yet it was not without a faint impulseof envy that Gerty recalled now the grave old house mantled in browncreepers and the cheerful firelit room in which Laura lived. The peacewhich she had missed in the thought of her husband came back to her withthe first recollection of her friend, and her hard bright eyes softeneda little while she dwelt on the vivid face of the woman to whom sheclung because of her very unlikeness to herself. Gradually out of themist of her unhappiness the figure of Laura rose in the mirror beforeher, and she saw clearly her large white forehead under the darkwing-like waves of hair, the singular intentness of her eyes, and therapt expectancy of look in which her features were lost as in a generalvagueness of light.
Though it was twenty years since she had first seen Laura Wilde as achild of ten, the meeting came to her suddenly with all the brightclearness of an incident of yesterday. She remembered herself as a weak,bedraggled little girl, in wet slippers, who was led by a careless nurseto a strange German school; and she felt again the agony of curiositywith which, after the first blank wonder was over, she had stared at thechildren who hung whispering together in the centre of the room. As shelooked a panic terror seized her like a wild beast, and she threw up herhands and turned to rush away to the reassuring presence of grown upcreatures, when from the midst of the whispering group a little darkgirl, in an ugly brown frock, ran up to her and folded her in her arms.
"I shall love you best of all because you are so beautiful," said thelittle dark girl, "and I will do all your sums and even eat your sausagefor you." Then she had kissed her and brought her to the stove and kneltdown on the floor to take off her wet slippers. To this day Gerty hadalways thought of her friend as the little girl who had shut her eyesand gulped down those terrible sausages for her behind her teacher'sback.
The maid brought the coffee, and while she sat up to drink it the doorof her husband's dressing-room opened and he came in and stood, large,florid and impressive, beside her bed.
"I'm afraid I shan't get back to luncheon," he remarked, as he settledhis ample, carefully groomed body in his clothes with a comfortableshake, "there's a chap from the country Pierce has sent to me with aletter and I'll be obliged to feed him at the club, but—to tell thetruth—there's so little one can get really fit at this season."
To a man for whom the pleasures of the table represented the largershare of his daily enjoyment, this was a question not without a seriousimportance of its own; and while he paused to settle it he stood,squaring his chest, with an expression of decided annoyance on hishandsome, good-humored face. Then, having made a satisfactory choice ofdishes, his features recovered their usual look of genial contentment,and he felt carelessly in his pocket for the letter which he presentlyproduced and laid on Gerty's pillow. His life had corresponded so evenlywith his bodily impulses that the perfection of the adjustment hadproduced in him the amiable exterior of an animal that is never crossed.It was a case in which supreme selfishness exerted the effect ofpersonality.
Leaving the letter where he had placed it, Gerty sat sipping her coffeewhile she looked up at him with the candid cynicism which lent a piquantcharm to the almost doll-like regularity of her features.
"You di