Henry James... Our relationship is almost as complex as this book. I appreciate the magnitude of his work, the tense waiting, but... It was the hardest story to read of all his stories. It was better than The Turn of the Screw, since the ending had a much bigger impact and it made me actually feel something, even though this kind of story has been told over and over again. Ego is blinding, yeah yeah. But he made me see it with new eyes on the last few pages, which was definitely unexpected. He remains a master of psychological tension. I appreciate all of the above, but I just didn't enjoy reading it. It hurt to read it. So sorry. I'm just not a mature enough reader to see the joy in painfully rigid writing.