Category: Fall 2020

From the very beginning of Daisy Miller by Henry James, Winterbourne takes it upon himself to learn about Daisy. He describes himself as having “… a great relish for feminine beauty; he was addicted to observing and analyzing it…” (James 8). This statement in itself is extremely creepy. Winterbourne, a 27 year old man, wants to analyze the beauty of a young American girl. The use of the words “observing” and “analyzing” are very scientific, which hints to the original publication’s subtitle, “A Study.” During their first conversation, Winterbourne continues to dissect Daisy’s words and actions in an attempt to discern whether or not she is as “innocent” as her appearance suggests. He comes to the conclusion she is not a “coquette” (which he has experienced in the form of married women *eye roll*), and that she is simply “a pretty American flirt.”

From this first conversation and throughout the novel Winterbourne fixates on the fact that while Daisy is a flirt, she is not aware that her actions are frowned upon. He seems to use this fact to justify his attraction to her. Winterbourne’s “study” of Daisy’s behavior is very unreliable. He projects the idea of innocence on her, while evidence shows that she does in fact, know how her behavior is perceived; “It seems to me much more proper in young unmarried women than in old married ones” (James 50). This line shows Daisy knows much more about European social standards than Winterbourne believes she knows. She essentially says she believes her behavior should be considered normal, and she makes no change to her flirtations just because she is in Europe and not America.

Winterbourne’s “study” of Daisy could easily be called an obsession instead of a study. His view of her is warped; he sees her as he wants to see her rather than who she really is. His belief that she is “innocent” is not based on fact, it is based on his own desire for her. He also follows her to Italy after only knowing her for a few days at Vevey. Instead of Daisy Miller being about Daisy Miller herself, it is really about Winterbourne’s idea of Daisy Miller.

As Winterbourne escorts Daisy to her date with Giovanelli, he declares: “that I intend to remain with you” (James 39), insisting that he will accompany her whether she likes it or not. Daisy responds with calling him out on “dictating” to her. Winterbourne tells her that she is making a mistake and that himself is the “right gentleman” whom she should listen to as opposed to acting as she pleases. This is the first scene in this novel where Winterbourne tries to interfere with Daisy’s way of living and subtly suggests to her that what she does is not different, but wrong, in Europe. As jealousy ferments in him, Winterbourne becomes increasingly more upfront about his readiness to “correct” Daisy’s behavior. He goes out of his way to find Mrs. Miller when Daisy isn’t at the hotel, to literally educate her on how to teach shame into Daisy. But thankfully, as readers we are spared the discomfort of having to read that scene since Winterbourne gives up on his notion.

Winterbourne is a character who is so pre-occupied with narrating what is happening around him, that he rarely reflects upon himself. He reminds me a lot of Nick Carraway from The Great Gatsby, who declares from the first chapter that he detests judgements but somehow shamelessly contradicts himself throughout the novel. Winterbourne sees himself to be an upholder of European tradition, while courting a lady, who is older than himself, in Geneva. He likes to act like the mature and reasonable gentleman around Daisy but in fact, he is deeply frustrated by Daisy’s indifferent attitude towards him. And Winterbourne has an irresistible urge to offer protection and guidance to Daisy Miller, because he thinks of Daisy as vulnerable and ignorant when it comes to European conventions or what people think of her. On the other hand, Daisy is in fact keenly aware of who she is, and of what people think of her. She admits that “I’m a fearful, frightful flirt! Did you ever hear of a nice girl that was not” (49). Her speech is powerful, and she is courageous in the face of her own true identity, which instills fear and almost admiration in Winterbourne and puts him to shame.

In Daisy Miller, the titular character is harshly judged by society due to her deviance from societal norms. However, the novel is filtered through Winterbourne’s perspective, and he is the least confident in his conclusions about Daisy’s motivations and values. Winterbourne frequently talks to other characters about Daisy, and most of these conversations are centered around if Daisy is an innocent young women obliviously defying societal norms, or a rebellious flirt intentionally defying convention. The word “innocence” is consistently utilized and debated in these conversations, which connects to whether Daisy’s fate should be viewed as tragic or inevitable.

A significant conversation about Daisy’s innocence occurs between Winterbourne and Mrs. Costello, who is a staunch observer of European social norms. Winterbourne defends Daisy and Mrs. Miller, stating “They are very ignorant­- very innocent only. Depend upon it they are not bad,” to which Mrs. Costello replies “They are hopelessly vulgar…Whether or not being hopelessly vulgar is being “bad” is a question for the metaphysicians. They are bad enough to dislike, at any rate, and for this short life that is enough” (James 33). In this passage, the triviality of European social norms becomes evident. While Mrs. Costello appears confident in her assessment of Daisy, she ultimately acknowledges she is incapable of judging her character. She does not deny that Daisy could perhaps be innocent, but she implies this is irrelevant, saying she is “hopelessly vulgar.” However, she emphasizes her inability to make the ultimate assessment, as she acknowledges that she is not a metaphysics, or a philosopher that makes conclusions about the nature of existence. Since this ultimate judgment of character is missing, the “society” takes this role of instating moral values and expectations. Since Daisy and Mrs. Miller are “bad enough to dislike,” Daisy’s innocence becomes irrelevant. Mrs. Costello, in her “short life” is content to unquestionably follow these expectations. However, by describing her life as “short” and reverting ultimate moral assessments to philosophers, the novel emphasizes the ultimate triviality and malleability of these judgments.

Arguments about Daisy’s innocence continue throughout the novel. These conclude at Daisy’s funeral, when Mr. Giovanelli states “she was the most innocent,” to which Winterbourne questions “The most innocent?” and Mr. Giovanelli affirms “The most innocent!” (James 63). By the end of the novel, Winterbourne continues to be unsure of Daisy’s agency in her decisions. However, this conversation has more weight than before, because it questions whether Daisy is responsible for the decisions that lead to her death. Winterbourne questions Mr. Giovanelli’s confidence in Daisy’s innocence, yet never makes an assured conclusion either way.

The word “innocent” is repeated throughout the novel as Daisy’s agency is debated and questioned. By the end of the novel, Winterbourne, who once was a staunch defender of Daisy’s lack of “blame,” is left unsure of her naïveté. This reflects the novel’s critique of these judgements. The characters’ conclusions about Daisy seem confident, yet are repeatedly changed and qualified. The reader is left to decide whether Daisy is a helpless victim or intentional rebel. However, the way that her innocence is inconclusively debated highlights the ultimate triviality of these concepts.

Why do so many novels of the 19^th century diminish the role of motherhood?  For Dickins, why are the mothers frequently absent (Dombey and Son, Great Expectations, Oliver Twist)?  For Jane Austin, the mothers are largely just silly or decorative (Pride & Prejudice, Mansfield Park).  What does their absence or inadequacy imply?  It is also interesting to note who, if anyone, is filling that role in the respective novels.  In Daisy Miller, it partially falls to the courier, and the consequences are fatal.

Exploring more deeply the role of motherhood in Daisy Miller, James would seem to be implying that the figure is absent, negligible, ineffective, insignificant.  As Dames reports in his excerpt A Concise Companion to the Victorian Novel:  “A common enough moment in Victorian fiction – the introductory portrait of a character – here relies on the meaningfulness of facial characteristics, their capacity to unveil the workings of a personality” (Dames p. 101).  James introduces Daisy’s mother using adjectives which describe her non-entity:  “Her mother was a small, spare, light person, with a wandering eye, a very exiguous nose”.  Even her physical introduction is covered in nuances of her insignificance “The figure of a lady appeared, at a distance, very indistinct, … with a slow and wavering movement”…” (p. 22) the lady in question hovered vaguely about the spot”.  James uses adjectives or adverbs to describe her as a shadow, her lack of presence, her deficiencies as a parent.  Her hair is thin and “frizzled” rather than “curly” which other than being pejorative implies burned or ruined.  This is not an attractive image of a role model for Daisy.  Finally, he uses very strong language in the last chapter when he writes “Mrs. Miller was invisible.”

But what if James is actually implying the reverse: that the absence of a strong figure in the role of motherhood is damaging to her children’s growth and ultimately could have fatal consequences?  Mrs. Miller’s social invisibility in the last chapter is due to her bedside presence with her sick daughter.  James is then saying that her daughter is advantaged by her mother’s presence.  Tracing this back throughout the novel, the absence of adequate and effective guidance from her mother has repeated negative consequences for Daisy and ultimately results in her tragic death.  James would thereby seem to be indirectly expounding the importance of motherhood in forming and rearing children.

Without making a definitive claim as to what Winterbourne’s sexuality is in Daisy Miller, it is still important to acknowledge the many instances when sexuality is not clear. Considering the true identity of Winterbourne is rather ambivalent to begin with, sexuality should not be eliminated. The use of “I” throughout the narration means that we are still viewing Winterbourne though the perspective of another, and that this is one view of Winterbourne that does not necessarily help us in identifying him as a person. We do not get clear statements on Winterbourne’s past, such as his family and possible past romances, or his true desires and reasons for being infatuated with Daisy’s manners and demeanor. Much can be drawn out of what James conceals about the character of Winterbourne and the small spaces where this gives way to seeing small glimpses into Winterbourne’s uncensored mind.

One passage that could allow the reader to attain a further glimpse into his identity and truth is during Daisy and Winterbourne’s visit to Chillon, and his allusion to Byron’s poem, The Prisoner of Chillon. He tells her the story of Byron’s “unhappy Bonivard.” (James 29) In the previous sentences, Daisy had been asking about Winterbourne’s “family, his previous history, his tastes, his habits, his intentions,” but we never hear any of his answers to these questions. The next time we know of him speaking is to portray the story of Bonivard, who was imprisoned at Chillion. It is notable that we do not actually know much of Winterbourne’s history, but instead of hearing the answers to these questions Daisy asks, we get Byron’s story instead. This establishes a relationship between Winterbourne and Bonivard. Winterbourne could be seen as relating to the imprisonment of Bonivard in that he is mentally imprisoned by over-analyzation of sexual manners and temperament. Winterbourne can also connect to the character of Bonivard in that he is always alone with his thoughts, and arguably as a result of them. “You are always going around by yourself. Can’t you get anyone to walk with you?” Daisy once asks him. (James 57) He is isolated just like Bonivard, but it is a castle of his own making. While Winterbourne can be see as relating to Bonivard, more obviously, Winterbourne is also taking the place of Byron himself in telling this story to Daisy. James would have been aware that Lord Byron was a figure who was rather well known for his sexual life and escapades, with much public speculation about his involvement with incest, pedophilia, and homosexuality. He is putting himself into Byron’s position, and possibly into the role of a man characterized by otherness and queerness in that he was certainly not the societal “norm.”

Winterbourne focuses, almost obsessively on his describing Giovanelli’s handsome face and good looks much in the same way that he constantly describes the face of Dasiy. In the same manner that Winterbourne countlessly refers to Daisy as “pretty” throughout the novel, Winterbourne uses the word “pretty” multiple times for Giovanelli, saying that he had a “pretty face” (James 41) and that he “sang very prettily.” (James 48) The word has some feminine connotations, and in using the word for Giovanelli, Winterboune seems to be framing him in a feminine light. Giovanelli overshadows Daisy in these moments and displaces Winterbourne’s attention onto him in a manner that parallels previous observations about Daisy. While it could be said that this descriptive language, used similarly for both characters, implies that Winterbourne’s interest in the two characters is more of an indifferent and intellectual manner, it could also portray desire that exists outside of the normal straight line between one romantic interest and another. It could portray Winterboure’s desires as, consistent with his character, multiplicitous and often confused. 

Without fleshing out a full argument in one blog post, it can still be acknowledged that there is language used by James to create an atmosphere of general ambivalence around Winterbourne’s character, and sexual/romantic situations are certainly not excluded from this. The “otherness” of his character and lack of clear lines makes him queer and perplexing in comparison to the straight lines of patriarchal man and wife.

In Henry James’s Daisy Miller (1875), Winterbourne is an American ex-pat whose lived abroad in Europe for most of his life. He becomes fascinated with the eponymous character, an American tourist who refuses to assimilate into European cultural standards. As a result, she is judged by European society for her (lack of manners) perceived impropriety and coquettishness. By forgetting his own American origins, Winterbourne ignores Daisy’s individuality and “studies” her with a Eurocentric lens that reduces her into a caricature: a girl devoid of moral fortitude and reasoning, the product of their shared homeland. Winterbourne’s failure to recognize his American culture—to understand Daisy as her own person—alienates her and catalyzes her downfall.

Winterbourne’s European socialite aunt, Mrs. Costello, warns him against pursuing a “relationship” with Daisy because of her inappropriate (in a social-cultural context) comportment. She reminds Winterbourne is out of his depth since Daisy is an American girl: “You have lived too long out of the country. You will be sure to make some great mistake” (James, Project Gutenberg). Having inhabited Western Europe for so long, Winterbourne is not only tuned to the cultural standards and social hierarchies of places like Geneva and Rome, but detached from American society. He reserves judgement for Daisy based on her behavior in relation to their current environment, without making much of an attempt to understand where she’s coming from when she displays her affability towards suitors and resistance to the oppressiveness of European rules. Winterbourne’s mistake is that he misinterprets Daisy as being indifferent towards him—because she is friendly with other European men, or because she doesn’t listen to his “advice”—which comes off to her as him not sharing her romantic attraction.

In Remembering, Repetition and Working-Through (1924), Freud argues that “repetition is a transference of the forgotten past;” (Freud 151) the more one tries to forget their past experiences—the circumstances and actions relating to their origin—the more they are prone towards repeating those same actions (or drawn to semblances of such). Obsessed over this ‘pretty little American girl,’ Winterbourne constantly inspects the qualities of Daisy that are a product of her motherland from a Eurocentric lens. He reasons that “American women—the pretty ones, and this gave a largeness to the axiom—were at one the most exacting in the world and the least endowed with a sense of indebtedness” (James, Project Gutenberg). This generalization contains gendered and nationalistic (pro-Europe, anti-American) biases. Winterbourne’s explains away Daisy’s ‘lack of proper morals or education’ as a result of her appearance, gender and nationality; to control her by showing her a ‘better way’ through European codes of conduct. In repressing his own ties to America, Winterbourne identifies his European environment as moral and correct. He associates Daisy’s impropriety with her Americanness. Unable to sympathize with her—to understand her behavior as okay, albeit in a different cultural context—he judges Daisy doing her own thing as much as his European peers do.

Rather than accepting that Daisy can be friends with male suitors, Winterbourne interprets Daisy and Giovanelli’s relationship as romantic. He critiques Daisy for being flirty and displays faux-indifference towards her. In turn, this communicates to Daisy that he doesn’t care about her, or does only if she follows his script. She rebels against his ‘rules’ and ends up dying from malaria after a reckless outing meant to spite him. Had Winterbourne made more of an attempt to reconnect with his American identity, he and Daisy might’ve reached a mutual understanding. Healthier communication could’ve resulted in a less tragic ending.

Henry James is very deliberate in the descriptions of his characters in Daisy Miller.  Mr. Giovanelli is described repeatedly as being very handsome, but also very short. When Winterbourne first meets him, James writes, “Winterbourne perceived at some distance a little man standing with folded arms, nursing his cane” (39).  While Giovanelli’s size could be contributed to Winterbourne’s distance from him, the phrase “little man” immediately associates Giovanelli as being shorter than Winterbourne.  Also the use of “nursing his cane” implies that Giovanelli needs some kind of walking assistance that Winterbourne does not.  As Winterbourne and Giovanelli are in competition for Daisy Miller’s attention and affection, this characterization seems to paint Winterbourne in a more favorable light.  Later on, Winterbourne also says, when referencing Giovanelli, “‘The little Italian… He is apparently a perfectly respectable little man. I believe he is in a small way a cavaliere avvocato” (53).  Winterbourne cannot seem to ignore Giovanelli’s size, stating it twice in the same section of dialogue.  Even when describing Giovanelli’s profession, which is very admirable, Winterbourne uses the unfortunate phrase “he is in a small way”, which further reinstates Giovanelli’s inferior size (53).

Height seems to be a great source of stability and validation for Winterbourne.  Throughout the novella, Winterbourne seems to be uncertain about everything, most especially, societal expectations and Daisy Miller’s personality and interest in other men.  David Lodge’s introduction to Daisy Miller describes Giovanelli as “a handsome young man of dubious social status” (xvii).  Winterbourne struggles throughout the novella with proper social habits and expectations. Giovanelli’s ambiguous position in the social hierarchy is another layer of conflict and confusion for Winterbourne, as Giovanelli seems removed from the rules Winterbourne must follow, most especially with women.  David Lodge also states, “Daisy is forcing the pace of [her and Winterbourne’s] relationship” (xxiii). Traditionally, men have more control in the beginning of a relationship because women have to adhere to stricter social standards, but Daisy inverts this as she controls many men throughout the story. Winterbourne becomes lost in this competition for Daisy and cannot gain any footing because she seems to desire attention from many different men.  When Giovanelli’s height becomes clear, Winterbourne holds onto this subject as a source of validation and superiority.  As Daisy becomes enthralled with Giovanelli’s beauty, Winterbourne reaffirms his masculinity and importance by repeatedly noting his superior size.

This conflict between Winterbourne and Giovanelli seems to suggest that Winterbourne is insecure and highly unsure of his place in society as he is evidently very threatened by another man’s attractiveness.  Winterbourne holds onto the attention and affirmation he gets from Daisy Miller, and when her attraction strays to another man, Winterbourne is forced to cling to something as trivial as height to reinsert himself in the narrative and in Daisy Miller’s life.

Society is a big theme in the novel Daisy Miller and most of the characters seem obsessed with where they are placed within it. Winterbourne offers a unique perspective on both American and European societies as he has experience within both of them. The last scene highlights the novel’s message, the emptiness of high society.

Daisy has an obsession with society and mentions it multiple times she talks to Winterbourne. She wants to be ‘exclusive’ but as we see from her actions, she does everything to exclude herself. While Winterbourne is invested in her and tolerates her laxness of social rules, others within society are quick to outcast her. He goes back and forth within the novel believing her to be either a “little American flirt” or an innocent and unknowing young lady. The back and forth narrative creates uncertainty and paints him as an unreliable narrator. This hints that the lesson the novel tries to portray is not realized by Winterbourne.

At the end of the novel, we see Daisy become sick and die. No one seems to care except Winterbourne. After her death, the next summer in Rome, “in the interval Winterbourne had often thought of Daisy Miller and her mystifying manners… it was on his conscience that he had done her injustice” (James 64). The novel suggests that Winterbourne only thinks of Daisy when he visits Rome. He dismisses Daisy from his mind and only brings her back when his guilt is too much for him to bear.

The dismissal of Daisy as a person highlights how those who hold value separate from society suffer. The novel’s pointless upper-class affairs show the inhumanity in the culture of gossip. Winterbourne only comes to the conclusion that he was wrong about Daisy so he could cope with the guilt of caring for someone he should not have. After confronting his guilt he forgets Daisy and returns to his old life with no change in his character. The novel ends as it begins with Winterbourne in Genova studying devoted to a mysterious ‘clever foreign lady’. Daisy Miller highlights the way society treats people who do not belong.

In Charles Dickens’ classic mid-nineteenth century novel, there are few characters who show they are kindhearted and have good intentions. The character who embodies this the most is a young woman named Rose. She is a sweet “girl next door”. As her name hints, she is feminine and beautiful like a flower. Roses symbolize love, and the young woman Rose certainly infiltrates love into this crime ridden storyline. There is another young woman, Nancy, who is affiliated with Fagin’s gang and lives her life on the streets trying to keep herself alive. To Rose, Oliver is an innocent young boy who needs more guidance in his life. Per request of the gang, Nancy kidnaps Oliver. Rose wants nothing but to help other people, Oliver in particular, and Nancy is interjecting herself into his life and causing havoc. To the audience, Rose is portrayed as this ultra-feminine woman whereas Nancy does not even recognize herself as human, let alone feminine. 

Nancy goes to speak with Rose to inform her that she was the one who kidnapped Oliver. She tells Rose, “I am the infamous creature you have heard of, that lives among the thieves… so help me God! Do not mind shrinking openly from me, lady. I am younger than you would think, to look at me, but I am well used to it. The poorest woman fall back, as I make my way long the crowded pavement” (Dickens 226). This entire passage is Nancy degrading herself as not just a woman but from humanity, and she is having this conversation with the very entrancing and womanly Rose. 

Nancy identifies herself as a “creature”, an entity that is worse than the “thieves” she lives with and she does not fit in with even the poorest people on the streets. She is a woman, but she is also worse than the other people on the Earth. Labeling herself as “infamous” expresses that her unpleasant qualities are everlasting. Being eternal and a monster are qualities typically describing and evil entity. Nancy is deceptive, she is older than she looks. In actuality, this is likely due to her impoverished lifestyle, but she is “not what she seems” nonetheless. Deceiving others is a trait the devil often uses. 

Rose, on the other hand, is the opposite of Nancy. Although they are both women, Nancy calls Rose “lady”, a title she does not give herself. They are the same, but they are also not, as Nancy would not be offended if Rose visibly showed her disturbance of Nancy’s presence. Nancy also cries out “so help me God!” in a time that Rose tries to lend a helping hand. Rose is portrayed as angelic and feminine. A woman with good energy who wishes to assist others in fixing their problems. This scene stands out in the plot because it is an intimate interaction with two women: one pure and one evil.