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A review by caliesha
Summer by Edith Wharton
4.0
Everything unrelated to the hours spent in that tranquil place was as faint as the remembrance of a dream. The only reality was the wondrous unfolding of her new self, the reaching out to the light of all her contracted tendrils.
A spectacular spring/summer classic (though nothing like its description). The scene Charity meets Lucius in the library, the imagery of the Mountain looming over North Dormer, Charity watching Lucius in the bushes, the Fourth of July fireworks celebration, Mr. Royall protecting her at the end... yes. A little stunned that it ended where it did. I read this as an ebook and was expecting another 4-5 chapters at the minimum. Truthfully, I was waiting for Lucius to return - he and Charity never really got their 'moment.' I respect the full circle ending with Charity's mother and Mr. Royall's tenderness but felt robbed of Lucius. Perhaps this qualm is unfair, however, as it is his very ephemerality that defines his appeal; Lucius is summer—the fleeting sweetness of youth, the clash of thunder and the warmth of the day, mercurial and devastating, but cherished nonetheless. Wharton's writing is beautiful and evokes a sort of Big Fish/Tuck Everlasting coming-of-age summertime country innocence. My only criticism is the bluntness of the ending. 4.5 stars.
A spectacular spring/summer classic (though nothing like its description). The scene Charity meets Lucius in the library, the imagery of the Mountain looming over North Dormer, Charity watching Lucius in the bushes, the Fourth of July fireworks celebration, Mr. Royall protecting her at the end... yes. A little stunned that it ended where it did. I read this as an ebook and was expecting another 4-5 chapters at the minimum. Truthfully, I was waiting for Lucius to return - he and Charity never really got their 'moment.' I respect the full circle ending with Charity's mother and Mr. Royall's tenderness but felt robbed of Lucius. Perhaps this qualm is unfair, however, as it is his very ephemerality that defines his appeal; Lucius is summer—the fleeting sweetness of youth, the clash of thunder and the warmth of the day, mercurial and devastating, but cherished nonetheless. Wharton's writing is beautiful and evokes a sort of Big Fish/Tuck Everlasting coming-of-age summertime country innocence. My only criticism is the bluntness of the ending. 4.5 stars.