Adapt or Die

By focusing on one family, Booth Tarkington's The Magnificent Ambersons tells a tale congruent with the story of America, which is also the story of capitalism and, in a way, of the march of civilization. The vantage point of 1918, rather than dating the perspective, adds a layer of insight that seems like prescience. It's a remarkable portrait.

The Ambersons begin as the premier family in town, mannered, lush, and genteel as only the turn-of-the century gentlefolk can be (shades of Edith Wharton and all that is wealthy and proper). George Amberson Minafer -- grandson of the family, pinnacle of all that they have produced, content to remain unsullied by the competition and profit-making that are beginning to take hold -- gradually becomes more and more of an anachronism by his refusal to acknowledge that things are changing. 

Horseless carriages are on the scene. Pollution is beginning, as factories are built and operated. The family estate is reduced to smaller acreage and developed due to financial pressure, even as the town sprawls to surround it. What's left of the family fortune evaporates in a bad investment. George refuses to accept these changes, much less to anticipate them and attempt to turn them to his advantage. Times are changing, but he's ill equipped to change with them.  

George's obliviousness makes him a frustrating character. The town seems to want him to "get his" -- but as his status and fortunes spiral downward, I found him pitiable, if not quite sympathetic, as his smugness gives way to bewilderment. As he's forced to face his new reality, I'm struck by the negative aspects of the modernism that's overcoming him. Facing a future that's harried, grasping, and crass, who can blame him for wanting to hold onto the past?      

Excerpt (George keeps proposing a real engagement, but Lucy is not having it):

"Well, then, why in the world won't you drop the 'almost'?"

Her distress increased. "Everything is -- everything --"

"What about 'everything'?"

"Everything is so -- so unsettled."

And at that he uttered an exclamation of impatience. "If you aren't the queerest girl! What is 'unsettled'?"

"Well, for one thing," she said, able to smile at his vehemence, "you haven't settled on anything to do. At least, if you have you've never spoken of it."

As she spoke, she gave him the quickest possible side glance of hopeful scrutiny; then looked away, not happily. Surprise and displeasure were intentionally visible upon the countenance of her companion; and he permitted a significant period of silence to elapse before making any response. "Lucy," he said, finally, with cold dignity, "I should like to ask you a few questions."

"Yes?"

"The first is: Haven't you perfectly well understood that I don't mean to go into business or adopt a profession?"

Note: This book counts for the Mount TBR Reading Challenge and the Color Coded Reading Challenge. It's also a Pulitzer winner.