Edith Wharton is my favourite female writer. Just now watching -- for the umpteenth time -- the screen adaptation of her 'The Age of Innocence' and marvelling at her insight into the late nineteenth century's treatment of women. They had few options. Not much had changed in Wharton's world since the days of Jane Austin when she penned this, her 12th novel. Come to think of it, my own mother's generation faced the same reality: marry well because female civil servants were not permitted to work after their nuptials.
Feature it.
Women either married "well" or were doomed. Born in 1862, Wharton died in 1937. In between she wrote brilliant novels and wonderful short stories. She herself had a bad marriage, but it was to a well-to-do society gentleman, so she was "saved". Martin Scorsese directed this 1993 classic, the same man who directed 'The Wolf of Wall Street', which we went to see last night. He's a wondrous director. What a movie! Three-and-a-half hours long, it was mesmerizing -- especially as I had just enjoyed Piers Morgan's interview of the "real" wolf of Wall Street, Jordan Belfort, the other night.
Belfort came across as "normal" and calm. Not so the character in the movie -- a drug-crazed lunatic who operates full blast on all cylinders all the time. Leonardo Di Caprio was perfect, as he seems to be in everything of late. Scorsese added many scenes other directors might not have because they obviously cost plenty, but they served to complete the movie in a perfect way. Go see it.
My favourite male writer? Somerset Maugham. Every sentence a poem.
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Note: I noticed the music of my favourite jazz pianist, Ahmed Jamal, was part of the score of 'The Wolf of Wall Street'. It also featured a few years ago in 'The Bridges of Madison County'. Wonder who else would have noticed this?
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