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amerynth's review against another edition
2.0
Henry James and I don't get along all that well -- I find his language cumbersome and difficult -- I feel like I'm always stumbling over his phrasing. That continues to be true in "What Maisie Knew" a sad tale of a six-year-old girl who is nothing but something two divorced parents are arguing over -- not that they want her but who gets stuck with her. It's not a particularly compelling tale, unfortunately.
miag500's review against another edition
3.0
if i had to read this for class its gonna count. 3 stars i GUESS for being the only henry james work not to make me want to die
grammyreadingdaily's review against another edition
3.0
Good writing from this notable author, but I had to stop this book and read something lighter.
It reminded me of too many painful childhood experiences. My own childhood was traumatic in somewhat different ways, but the parental attitudes were the same.
It reminded me of too many painful childhood experiences. My own childhood was traumatic in somewhat different ways, but the parental attitudes were the same.
naenaebug's review against another edition
1.0
I have failed myself. I told myself (and everyone on my Facebook) that I was going to finish this book so I could hate on it properly. But the more I went on, the more I hated my life and this book in particular. So, I'm not going to waste my time finishing it. The writing was awful, the characters were awful, the writing style was awful, and I'm sure the movie is awful (sorry Julianne, Steve, and Alexander. I still love you).
jloucks's review against another edition
4.0
I didn't like the ending, but it was perfectly orchestrated.
A really interesting story.
A really interesting story.
fionnualalirsdottir's review against another edition
*
A wise old child lived among strange folk
The more she saw, the less she spoke,
The less she spoke, the more she cried,
What's to become of that wise old child?
**
Maisie, Maisie, sharp yet hazy,
How does your garden grow?
With jam suppers and boiled beef,
And pretty ladies all in a row.
***
There was a fine lady who had a girl child.
She had so many lovers, she didn't hear when she cried.
She gave her some broth without any bread,
Then whipped her right soundly and sent her to bed.
****
Hush-a-bye Maisie, on the house top
When the storm blows, the timbers will rock
When the glass breaks, the nurs'ry will fall
And down will fall Maisie, nursemaid and all.
*****
To father's, to father's, to see a fat pig,
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.
To mother's, to mother's, to see a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.
******
Sing a song of sixpence, a pocketful of wry,
Four and twenty lovers stewing in a pie.
When the pie is opened the lovers all are spied,
Isn't that a dainty dish to set before a child.
Father's in the gaming house, losing all his money,
Mother's in the parlour, feeding men with honey,
Maisie's in the garden, trying not to say a word,
When down swoops a lover and scoops her off abroad.
*******
This is the story that James built.
This is the trap that lay in the story that James built.
This is the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the cat that chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the maiden all forlorn,
That loved the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the man all shiny and shorn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That loved the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
....…………………………………………………
Loveless marriage is the trap, the father is the the rat, the mother, the cat, the step-mother, the dog, the governess with the crumpled hat, the cow: their constant chasing and harrying of each other will force me to quit this book at the half-way mark unless the shiny step-father who kissed the maiden all forlorn carries through on his many promises soonish...
……………….…………………………
Edit twenty-four hours later: I decided to read on...and the only thing of note is that Maisie has found a sixpence! Sixpences really for the forty-eight hours that followed seemed to abound in her life..
…………………………………………
Further edit: The shiny step-father left, the step-mother arrived, then the step-father returned and the governess is about to leave again.
Here we go around the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush,
Here we go round the mulberry bush, on a sad and miserable morning.
What hope for the little maiden all forlorn..
…………………………………………
Later edit: maybe some hope:
Maisie put the kettle on,
Maisie put the kettle on,
Maisie put the kettle on,
We'll all have tea...
………………………… ……………
22/02/2017
Maisie take it off again,
Maisie take it off again,
Maisie take it off again,
They've all gone away!
………………………………………
Rub, adub, dub,
Two left in the tub,
And who do you think they be?
One cow with a crumpled horn,
One maiden all forlorn,
And both of them gone to sea.
A wise old child lived among strange folk
The more she saw, the less she spoke,
The less she spoke, the more she cried,
What's to become of that wise old child?
**
Maisie, Maisie, sharp yet hazy,
How does your garden grow?
With jam suppers and boiled beef,
And pretty ladies all in a row.
***
There was a fine lady who had a girl child.
She had so many lovers, she didn't hear when she cried.
She gave her some broth without any bread,
Then whipped her right soundly and sent her to bed.
****
Hush-a-bye Maisie, on the house top
When the storm blows, the timbers will rock
When the glass breaks, the nurs'ry will fall
And down will fall Maisie, nursemaid and all.
*****
To father's, to father's, to see a fat pig,
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.
To mother's, to mother's, to see a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.
******
Sing a song of sixpence, a pocketful of wry,
Four and twenty lovers stewing in a pie.
When the pie is opened the lovers all are spied,
Isn't that a dainty dish to set before a child.
Father's in the gaming house, losing all his money,
Mother's in the parlour, feeding men with honey,
Maisie's in the garden, trying not to say a word,
When down swoops a lover and scoops her off abroad.
*******
This is the story that James built.
This is the trap that lay in the story that James built.
This is the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the cat that chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the maiden all forlorn,
That loved the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
This is the man all shiny and shorn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That loved the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog that worried the cat,
That chased the rat that sprung the trap,
That lay in the story that James built.
....…………………………………………………
Loveless marriage is the trap, the father is the the rat, the mother, the cat, the step-mother, the dog, the governess with the crumpled hat, the cow: their constant chasing and harrying of each other will force me to quit this book at the half-way mark unless the shiny step-father who kissed the maiden all forlorn carries through on his many promises soonish...
……………….…………………………
Edit twenty-four hours later: I decided to read on...and the only thing of note is that Maisie has found a sixpence! Sixpences really for the forty-eight hours that followed seemed to abound in her life..
…………………………………………
Further edit: The shiny step-father left, the step-mother arrived, then the step-father returned and the governess is about to leave again.
Here we go around the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush,
Here we go round the mulberry bush, on a sad and miserable morning.
What hope for the little maiden all forlorn..
…………………………………………
Later edit: maybe some hope:
Maisie put the kettle on,
Maisie put the kettle on,
Maisie put the kettle on,
We'll all have tea...
………………………… ……………
22/02/2017
Maisie take it off again,
Maisie take it off again,
Maisie take it off again,
They've all gone away!
………………………………………
Rub, adub, dub,
Two left in the tub,
And who do you think they be?
One cow with a crumpled horn,
One maiden all forlorn,
And both of them gone to sea.
marc129's review against another edition
3.0
“She still had room for wonder at what Maisie knew.” There are others, but they are rare: novels in which the last sentence is the most important one, not in the sense of the denouement of an exciting story (because it does not do that at all in this story), but in the sense that it offers the key to read all that has gone before. Here, Henry James himself reveals how we should view this novel: through the eyes of a little girl (Maisie) who barely understands what is happening around her, but somehow grasps what is going on, in a way that keeps on eluding us. We can see her registering everything with wide eyes and alert ears (especially the lies and hypocrisy of the adults), being very impressionable and whimsically shifting her loyalty depending on the person she has in front of her, gradually becoming aware of her ability to bend people to her will with her charms, and, like everyone else, above all seeking attention, security and love. And, yes, James described this all in such a way that, as a reader, even in the end you keep stuck with the question: what, for heaven's sake, DID she knew or understand?
Precisely because Maisie (as a child) is an unreliable narrator, James succeeds in bringing the story's constant twists and turns to a successful conclusion. In my edition there was an introduction that briefly summarizes what happens in this novel, and I must say that it immediately made me dizzy, it felt almost like a soap opera. And well, of course, it IS a soap, perhaps even an entertaining one, at least if you forget that Maisie is a child who is the victim of what we now call an acrimonious divorce.
I am not the first to see the connection with the next work James wrote next, [b:The Turn of the Screw|12948|The Turn of the Screw|Henry James|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1567172392l/12948._SY75_.jpg|990886] (1898): here too we are dealing with an unreliable narrator (albeit a somewhat older lady) who constantly misleads us. Maisie seems much more innocent, although you start to doubt that as the story progresses. In that sense, 'What Maisie Knew' is also a masterful exercise in 'turning' and keeping the reader in the dark.
But then there is James's style, and here too I unfortunately have to be unoriginal: it is so mannerist, so deliberately artificial, that it drives you crazy. I must admit that I was often frustrated by the complicated sentence structures and the pompous style. But at the same time I also see James' technical mastery in using this way of describing things: it surely adds to the sense of confusion, but the reverse side is that it often spoils the reading pleasure, at least in my case. That's why this wasn't such a succes to me as [b:The Portrait of a Lady|264|The Portrait of a Lady|Henry James|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1502148606l/264._SY75_.jpg|1434368] was.
Precisely because Maisie (as a child) is an unreliable narrator, James succeeds in bringing the story's constant twists and turns to a successful conclusion. In my edition there was an introduction that briefly summarizes what happens in this novel, and I must say that it immediately made me dizzy, it felt almost like a soap opera. And well, of course, it IS a soap, perhaps even an entertaining one, at least if you forget that Maisie is a child who is the victim of what we now call an acrimonious divorce.
I am not the first to see the connection with the next work James wrote next, [b:The Turn of the Screw|12948|The Turn of the Screw|Henry James|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1567172392l/12948._SY75_.jpg|990886] (1898): here too we are dealing with an unreliable narrator (albeit a somewhat older lady) who constantly misleads us. Maisie seems much more innocent, although you start to doubt that as the story progresses. In that sense, 'What Maisie Knew' is also a masterful exercise in 'turning' and keeping the reader in the dark.
But then there is James's style, and here too I unfortunately have to be unoriginal: it is so mannerist, so deliberately artificial, that it drives you crazy. I must admit that I was often frustrated by the complicated sentence structures and the pompous style. But at the same time I also see James' technical mastery in using this way of describing things: it surely adds to the sense of confusion, but the reverse side is that it often spoils the reading pleasure, at least in my case. That's why this wasn't such a succes to me as [b:The Portrait of a Lady|264|The Portrait of a Lady|Henry James|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1502148606l/264._SY75_.jpg|1434368] was.