Article #177-2 | Gutenberg Articles

Excerpt

Excerpt from The American, by Henry James

CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI

CHAPTER I

On a brilliant day in May, in the year 1868, a gentleman was reclining
at his ease on the great circular divan which at that period occupied
the centre of the Salon Carré, in the Museum of the Louvre. This
commodious ottoman has since been removed, to the extreme regret of all
weak-kneed lovers of the fine arts, but the gentleman in question had
taken serene possession of its softest spot, and, with his head thrown
back and his legs outstretched, was staring at Murillo’s beautiful
moon-borne Madonna in profound enjoyment of his posture. He had removed
his hat, and flung down beside him a little red guide-book and an
opera-glass. The day was warm; he was heated with walking, and he
repeatedly passed his handkerchief over his forehead, with a somewhat
wearied gesture. And yet he was evidently not a man to whom fatigue was
familiar; long, lean, and muscular, he suggested the sort of vigor that
is commonly known as “toughness.” But his exertions on this particular
day had been of an unwonted sort, and he had performed great physical
feats which left him less jaded than his tranquil stroll through the
Louvre. He had looked out all the pictures to which an asterisk was
affixed in those formidable pages of fine print in his Bädeker; his
attention had been strained and his eyes dazzled, and he had sat down
with an æsthetic headache. He had looked, moreover, not only at all the
pictures, but at all the copies that were going forward around them, in
the hands of those innumerable young women in irreproachable toilets
who devote themselves, in France, to the propagation of masterpieces,
and if the truth must be told, he had often admired the copy much more
than the original. His physiognomy would have sufficiently indicated
that he was a shrewd and capable fellow, and in truth he had often sat
up all night over a bristling bundle of accounts, and heard the cock
crow without a yawn. But Raphael and Titian and Rubens were a new kind
of arithmetic, and they inspired our friend, for the first time in his
life, with a vague self-mistrust.

Explanation

**Detailed Explanation of the Excerpt from The American by Henry James**

Context of the Novel

Henry James’ The American (1877) is a novel that explores the cultural and social clashes between America and Europe in the 19th century. The protagonist, Christopher Newman, is a wealthy, self-made American businessman who travels to Europe in search of refinement, art, and possibly a wife. The novel examines themes of innocence vs. experience, Old World sophistication vs. New World pragmatism, and the complexities of class and identity.

This opening chapter introduces Newman as he visits the Louvre, a symbol of European high culture, where he is both awed and slightly bewildered by the art around him. His reactions reveal his outsider status—a man of practical intelligence but little formal artistic education—facing the overwhelming legacy of European civilization.

Analysis of the Excerpt

1. Setting and Atmosphere

The scene is set in May 1868, a time of post-Civil War optimism in America and the height of European cultural dominance.
The Salon Carré in the Louvre was a famous gallery housing masterpieces by Murillo, Raphael, Titian, and Rubens—artists representing the pinnacle of Western art.
The "great circular divan" (now removed) symbolizes comfort in the midst of cultural grandeur, but also Newman’s physical ease contrasting with his intellectual discomfort.
The warmth of the day and Newman’s fatigue suggest that his encounter with European art is not just a leisurely stroll but a mental and emotional challenge.

2. Character Introduction: Christopher Newman

Newman is introduced as:

Physically imposing: "Long, lean, and muscular… the sort of vigor known as ‘toughness.’" → Suggests a man of action, used to hard work (likely business), but now facing an unfamiliar intellectual challenge.
Practical, not aesthetic: He has "sat up all night over a bristling bundle of accounts" but finds Raphael and Titian "a new kind of arithmetic"—art is a puzzle to him, not an instinctive pleasure.
A tourist, not a connoisseur: He relies on Bädeker’s guidebook (a popular 19th-century travel guide) and its asterisks to tell him what to admire, showing his dependence on external authority rather than personal taste.
A man of contradictions:
- He is wearied but not by physical labor (he’s used to that)—instead, by the mental strain of trying to appreciate art.
- He admires the copies more than the originals, suggesting he may prefer craftsmanship over genius, or that he is more comfortable with reproductions (like a businessman who deals in tangible goods) than with abstract masterpieces.

3. Themes

The American in Europe:
- Newman represents the self-made man of the New World, confronting the old, established culture of Europe.
- His discomfort in the Louvre foreshadows his later struggles with European aristocracy—he is an outsider trying to buy his way into a world that values birth and tradition over money.
Art vs. Commerce:
- Newman approaches art like a business transaction—he checks off masterpieces like items on a ledger.
- His "æsthetic headache" suggests that beauty is not effortless for him; it requires labor, much like his business ventures.
Authenticity vs. Reproduction:
- His preference for copies over originals could symbolize his pragmatic, results-driven mindset—he values utility and skill over genius and originality.
- It may also hint at his later misjudgment of people—he will mistake appearances for reality in his dealings with European aristocrats.

4. Literary Devices

Irony:
- Newman is physically at ease (lounging on the divan) but mentally uneasy—the Louvre, a place of rest for art lovers, is a battleground for him.
- His fatigue from art (not labor) is ironic—he is a man who thrives on hard work but is exhausted by beauty and refinement.
Symbolism:
- The Louvre = European high culture, tradition, and inaccessibility to outsiders.
- The guidebook = Newman’s reliance on external rules rather than personal judgment.
- The copies vs. originals = the tension between surface and depth, appearance and reality.
Foreshadowing:
- His struggle with art mirrors his later struggle with European society—he will misread people just as he misreads paintings.
- His admiration for copies hints at his naivety—he will be deceived by those who appear noble but are morally hollow.

5. Significance of the Scene

This opening establishes:

Newman’s character: A man of strength and will but also ignorance in the ways of European culture.
The central conflict: Can an American buy his way into European sophistication, or will he always be an outsider?
The novel’s tone: James blends satire (Newman’s tourist-like approach to art) with sympathy (his genuine, if clumsy, effort to understand).
The role of art: Art is not just decoration—it is a test of Newman’s ability to adapt, a mirror of his limitations, and a symbol of the Old World’s power.

Conclusion: Newman as the "Innocent Abroad"

This excerpt presents Newman as the quintessential American in Europe—wealthy, confident, but culturally inexperienced. His physical ease contrasts with his intellectual discomfort, setting up the novel’s central question: Can a self-made man, accustomed to the rules of business, navigate the unspoken codes of European aristocracy?

James uses the Louvre as a microcosm of Newman’s larger struggle—just as he fails to fully grasp the art, he will later fail to fully grasp the people he encounters. His æsthetic headache is not just from the paintings but from the weight of history and tradition pressing upon him, a force he cannot simply purchase or control.

This opening is both humorous and poignant—Newman is a fish out of water, but his sincere effort makes him a compelling protagonist. The scene also critiques the tourist mentality, where art becomes a checklist rather than an experience, foreshadowing Newman’s later superficial engagement with European society.

Would you like a deeper dive into any particular aspect, such as James’ style, the historical context of 1868, or comparisons to other "American abroad" narratives (like Mark Twain’s The Innocents Abroad)?

Questions

Question 1

The narrator’s description of Newman’s "æsthetic headache" serves primarily to:

A. underscore the physical toll of prolonged exposure to masterpieces, aligning his exhaustion with that of a laborer.
B. critique the superficiality of Bädeker’s guidebook, which reduces art appreciation to a mechanical checklist.
C. highlight the inferiority of American sensibilities when confronted with European cultural superiority.
D. reveal the cognitive dissonance between Newman’s pragmatic worldview and the abstract demands of aesthetic judgment.
E. foreshadow Newman’s eventual rejection of European art as pretentious and overly ornate.

Question 2

The detail that Newman "had often admired the copy much more than the original" is most thematically resonant with:

A. the novel’s exploration of the tension between surface authenticity and underlying artifice in European aristocracy.
B. James’s implicit argument that American industrial reproduction surpasses Old World craftsmanship in precision.
C. Newman’s subconscious preference for the familiar and utilitarian over the rarefied and idealized.
D. a satirical jab at the Louvre’s curatorial practices, which prioritize accessibility over artistic integrity.
E. the protagonist’s latent anti-intellectualism, which dismisses originality as overrated in favor of technical skill.

Question 3

The "irreproachable toilets" of the young women copying masterpieces function in the passage as:

A. a subtle indictment of French bourgeois hypocrisy, where appearance masks moral compromise.
B. an ironic contrast to Newman’s rumpled, utilitarian attire, emphasizing his outsider status.
C. a metaphor for the sterile, derivative nature of European cultural transmission to foreign observers.
D. a red herring that distracts from the passage’s central concern with Newman’s psychological state.
E. symbolic reinforcement of the Louvre as a space where art and fashion are commodified equally.

Question 4

Which of the following best captures the narrative voice’s attitude toward Newman’s use of the guidebook?

A. Uncritical endorsement of its necessity for the uninitiated tourist.
B. Mild amusement at his literal-minded reliance on external authority.
C. Overt disdain for his inability to engage with art without structured guidance.
D. Neutral observation that reflects the passage’s detached, journalistic tone.
E. Ambivalent irony that simultaneously mocks his naivety and admires his earnestness.

Question 5

The passage’s closing sentence—"Raphael and Titian and Rubens were a new kind of arithmetic"—is most effectively interpreted as:

A. an epiphany that art, like business, operates through systems of value that must be deciphered through effort.
B. a rejection of aesthetic experience as fundamentally alien to the American entrepreneurial mindset.
C. a metaphor for the quantitative analysis Newman will later apply to his romantic pursuits.
D. a literal confession that he can only understand art through financial or utilitarian frameworks.
E. a defensive rationalization masking his insecurity about his lack of cultural capital.

Solutions and Explanations

1) Correct answer: D

Why D is most correct: The "æsthetic headache" is not merely physical fatigue (A) but a metaphor for Newman’s struggle to reconcile his transactional, results-driven worldview with the ambiguous, subjective demands of art appreciation. The passage emphasizes his disorientation ("vague self-mistrust") when faced with a system of value that resists his usual metrics of success (e.g., "bristling bundle of accounts"). This aligns with cognitive dissonance theory, where deeply held pragmatic frameworks clash with incompatible aesthetic criteria. James’s irony lies in Newman’s physical vigor being undone by intellectual abstraction.