[.ca] Howard's End (ISBN 0613127536)

From Amazon.com:
Margaret Schlegel, engaged to the much older, widowed Henry Wilcox, meets her intended the morning after accepting his proposal and realizes that he is a man who has lived without introspection or true self-knowledge. As she contemplates the state of Wilcox's soul, her remedy for what ails him has become one of the most oft-quoted passages in literature: Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer. Like all of Forster's work, Howards End concerns itself with class, nationality, economic status, and how each of these affects personal relationships. It follows the intertwined fortunes of the Schlegel sisters, Margaret and Helen, and the Wilcox family over the course of several years. The Schlegels are intellectuals, devotees of art and literature. The Wilcoxes, on the other hand, can't be bothered with the life of the mind or the heart, leading, instead, outer lives of "telegrams and anger" that foster "such virtues as neatness, decision, and obedience, virtues of the second rank, no doubt, but they have formed our civilization." Helen, after a brief flirtation with one of the Wilcox sons, has developed an antipathy for the family; Margaret, however, forms a brief but intense friendship with Mrs. Wilcox, which is cut short by the older woman's death. When her family discovers a scrap of paper requesting that Henry give their home, Howards End, to Margaret, it precipitates a spiritual crisis among them that will take years to resolve. Forster's 1910 novel begins as a collection of seemingly unrelated events--Helen's impulsive engagement to Paul Wilcox; a chance meeting between the Schlegel sisters and an impoverished clerk named Leonard Bast at a concert; a casual conversation between the sisters and Henry Wilcox in London one night. But as it moves along, these disparate threads gradually knit into a tightly woven fabric of tragic misunderstandings, impulsive actions, and irreparable consequences, and, eventually, connection. Though set in the early years of the 20th century, Howards End seems even more suited to our own fragmented era of e-mails and anger. For readers living in such an age, the exhortation to "only connect" resonates ever more profoundly. --Alix Wilber

A 4-star book but a 2-star paperback edition:
As fond as I am of this novel I cannot recommend this particular paperback Vintage edition. In a work so meticulous and richly crafted as _Howards End_, it's more than a little jarring to stumble across typos and spelling errors in the text. A handsome and attractive volume, such as we've all come to expect from Vintage, but those typos are really unforgivable. By all means read the book, but opt for a different edition.

a pretty, often dull, stale little tragedy:
Perhaps that is too harsh, for Howard's End truly is a beautiful book. It is sharp and cunning and written with craft and texture in unearthing the suppressed emotions of its characters. Gorgeously written, simmering throughout with a subtle and witty prose, sometimes briefly alit with the whoosh of a roaring epiphiny. The grace of the character study is a worthwhile experience . . . But the story . . . So have ya heard this one before? Some guy wants to get married but he's already married or he's engaged to another he's fallen out of love with. The details just don't matter and the constant refrain of the character's endless longing is quiet acceptence complicated by questioning questioning guestioning. The interactions are trivial and often uninteresting, propelled by the unspoken commentary, subdued by the spoken words amounting mostly to rejections. This premise is at times intriguing, coaxed into narrative by the awareness of each of the speakers, but then dims out as they try to change the subject, leaving forever buried that one shimmering moment of light. This is the refrain of this novel, for better or for worse--

Surprisingly good, uniquely wise:
I expected Jane Austen and got a very pleasant surprise. Forster uses his characters and their relationships and a launching pad for more philosophical and sociological ruminations. And not in a contrived way, but in the almost intuitive way our own interactions with the people we meet stimulate us, provoke us, and stretch us. And as far as I know, this book is one of a kind in that it treats people with no imagination with dignity and respect. Most of us are aware there is some kind of division in the world between artists and businessmen, and the division has shown up often enough in literature sure enough. But as all producers of fiction are by necessity on the artist side of the division, businessmen are usually the villains, evil at worst and stupid at best, and artists, are, quite naturally, the heroes. Forster is uniquely wise enough to peer into the enemy camp and see beauty and value. My feel is that Forster's characterization at times surpasses his writing ability. This is more praise than criticism; his vivid imagination is able to conjure and follow characters that his pen finds difficult to put on the page. They move and live and act in ways he is unable to fully explain or account for. And when was the last time you were able to truly capture all the complexities, intricacies and contradictions of a real person with the rudimentary elements of pen paper and alphabet? That Forster's characters defy characterization may be a contradiction, but in my book it is high praise. And the way Forster often philosophizes might annoy others, but I do enjoy it. There is a passage early in the book about Beethoven's Fifth Symphony that is thinly costumed to make it fit within the frames of the book, I love it for what it is -- a brilliant exposition on a distinct piece of music. --... Some quotes I enjoyed: "It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness, to think that a thousand square miles are a thousand times more wonderful than one square mile, and that a million square miles are almost the same as heaven. That is not imagination. No, it kills it." (23) "What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?...Haven't we all to struggle against life's daily greyness, against pettiness, against mechanical cheerfulness, against suspicion? I struggle by remembering my friends; others I have known by remembering some place--some beloved place or tree--we thought you were one of these." (112) "England was alive, throbbing through all her estuaries, crying for joy through the mouths of all her gulls, and the north wind, with contrary motion, blew stronger against her rising seas. What did it mean? For what end are her fair complexities, her changes of soil, her sinuous coast? Does she belong to those who have molded her and made her feared by other lands, or to those who added nothing to her power, but have somehow seen her, seen the whole island at once, lying as a jewel in a silver sea, sailing as a ship of souls, with all the brave world's fleet accompanying her towards eternity?" (138) "The business man who assumes that this life is everything, and the mystic who asserts that it is nothing, fail, on this side and on that, to hit the truth. "Yes, I see, dear; it's about halfway between," Aunt Juley hazarded in earlier years. No; truth, being alive, was not halfway between anything. It was only to be found by continuous excursion into either realm, and though proportion is the final secret, to espouse it at the outset is to insure sterility." (153) "Love and Truth-- their warfare seems eternal. Perhaps the whole visible world rests on it, and if they were one, life itself, like the spirits when Prospero was reconciled to his brother, might vanish into air, into thin air." (181) "But man is an odd, sad creature as yet, intent on pilfering the earth, and heedless of the growths within himself. He cannot be bored about psychology. He leaves it to the specialist, which is as if he should leave his dinner to be eaten by a steam-engine. He cannot be bothered to digest his own soul." (219) "She could not assess her trespass by any moral code; it was everything or nothing. Morality can tell us that murder is worse than stealing, and group most sins in an order all must approve, but it cannot group Helen. The surer its pronouncements on this point, the surer may we be that morality is not speaking. Christ was evasive when they questioned Him. It is those that cannot connect who hasten to cast the first stone." (246)

Cuture Clash:
More than a piece of England, Howards End -- the place-- can be seen as a metaphor of the world, and all the people who somehow are related to it, are examples of real human beings. Even though the novel was written almost a hundred years ago, it is still very suitable for this XXI Century. It seems to me that the story is all about the different moral and background that every class of the society had by that time, and the consequences of it during their lives. The main characters are the two Schlegel Sisters, Margaret and Helen, who are keen on arts, books, philosophy, feminism and other things that have a relation with the soul and the thought. After a misfortunated love affair between Helen and the Paul Wilcox, whose parents they met in a trip to German, their lives change forever. Magaret becomes a close friend to Mrs Wilcox, and her sister starts to despise the family. When Ruth Wilcox dies, she leaves Howads End to her friend, but the Wilcoxes feel betrayed and don't follow up the lady's last will. Years later, Mr Wilcox marries Margaret, and in the very end of the book, after a serie of extremely unpleasant events he tells her that Howards End belongs to her. This brief summary I've just done misses a lot in details and the feeling that anyone only gets reading the novel. There are so many brilliant and subtle nuances in Forster's work. His works bounces from comedy to tragedy in a turn of page. I burst out laughing the first time Helen meets Mrs Bast -- a.k.a.Mrs Lanoline. Sometimes, many things are just left between the lines. For instance, I doubt whether Henry Wilcox feels anything for Margaret but guilt for not telling her about his wife's last will. Personaly speaking, I think he likes and respects her but does not love her until when Charles is arrested, that is when he falls apart, and she is there helping him. As I was saying, I see the whole story as clash between the different cultures that each character have . The Schlegels may feel very confortable in the XX Century. They are very open minded, enjoy discussing, and were not afraid of showing what they think or fell. On the other hand, the Wilcoxes are very worried about social position and not used to letting women express themselves. And to represent the lowest classes are the Bast : Leonard and Jackie. He likes arts and books, but his older wife prefers the joys of the world - and Mr Wilcox used to know it years ago. The prose is so alive that sometimes I felt extremely agry with some characters, mainly Charles- the oldes Wilcox boy. He is so snobbish, self-centred and xenophibic. For instance, he doesn't face up the fact to that he's killed Mr Bast and after telling the event to his father , they both go and have coffe, as if nothing had happened. Mr Wilcox is the character who goes though the most drastic transformantion, and in the end he is a vey different man, in many senses. Finally, I love the film version of this book. I only regret I hadn't read the book before watching the movie. I think I would have had much more surprises. But, anyway, both book and film are worth reading or/and watching.

A Question of Class:
Howards End is a realistic picture of Edwardian England, blemishes and all. Forster successfully depicted the environment of his society few authors could. Forster raises moral questions about what the upper class' social and economic responsibilities are to the lower classes. The method of showing opposing viewpoints (help the less fortunate vs. leave them be) between the Schlegel and the Wilcox families works well. He also questions the double standard at that time in England for infidelity. The upper class males were faultless in affairs, while the lower class females were scarred negatively for life. For the males, the affair was the satisfaction of desires and meant parting of some money. For females, the affairs were a way of life, nothing more, and they couldn't even improve their station in society. They were marked as prostitutes, while Mr. Wilcox actually suffered no real personal damage, other than a deservedly begrudging wife for the short term. I can't help but ask how much has society really changed? The book is still relevant today, not only that, it's a good read. The dialogue is even realistic and touching. Forster's prose flows smoothly, and the reader immediately starts to appreciate it after a few pages. Human nature, snobbery, the struggle of the classes, and family affairs really haven't changed that much since 1910. Forster clearly didn't know what to do about these problems anymore than we do today. Asking his country to face their problems, rather than ignore them, which was what was being done, was a start.