From James’ The American, the wealthy and self-made Christopher Newman describes an experience he had in a cab on his way to Wall Street to ruin a fellow businessman:
“‘One day, a couple of months ago, something very curious happened to me. … At all events, I woke up suddenly, from a sleep or from a kind of a reverie, with the most extraordinary feeling in the world–a mortal disgust for the thing I was going to do. It came upon me like that!’ – and he snapped his fingers – ‘as abruptly as an old wound that begins to ache. I couldn’t tell the meaning of it; I only felt that I loathed the whole business and wanted to wash my hands of it. The idea of losing that sixty thousand dollars, of letting it utterly slide and scuttle and never hearing of it again, seemed the sweetest thing in the world. And all this took place quite independently of my will, and I sat watching it as if it were a play at the theatre. I could feel it going on inside of me. You may depend upon it that there are things going on inside of us that we understand mighty little about. … I seemed to feel a new man inside my old skin, and I longed for a new world.”
COMMENTS
14 responses to “From Henry James’ The American”
Leave a Reply
Very cool quote Sarah! Thank you very much.
How apropos!
Wow, Sarah. That is a gem of a gem of a gem! I confess, I never went back to Henry James after reading Portrait Of A Lady in college – not because it was bad (far from it!), just because the reading was so dense and heavy-going. I’m going to give The Americans a shot. thank you for this.
The American is one of my favorite books. It is such a beautiful, bittersweet tale. Ifound it so refreshing in its bracing look at life’s tragedy. No sugar-coated Hollywood resolution here!
Wonderful quote. I remember half way through reading The Golden Bowl wanting to kill myself if I had to read another subordinate clause, but I too will now return to the mighty Mr. James.
Yes. Hemingway, he ain’t. He’s the kind of guy I cannot read with a glass of wine in hand.
I almost HAVE to have a glass of wine on hand! James is certainly “real”. I plugged through Washington Square waiting and waiting for everybody to turn around, for Catherine to become beautiful, for her father to become loving, for Morris Townsend to get his act together, and then I realized that he’s not Jane Austen….
I just feel like this quote has tremendous power.
It sure is new to me, and I thank you for it.
Guys, I’m being completely honest when I say that I don’t understand why this is so impactful and concerns the Gospel. Someone please explain it. Is there something that comes before the passage that explains it? Is something being read into it?
Kobra- For what it’s worth (which is probably what you are paying for it) here is my “take” on why this is so powerfully gospel: Newman unexpectedly experiences a true moral disgust over his plan to ruin a fellow businessman. (i.e. he sees “do not steal” and “love thy neighbor” as legitimate moral demands which leave true moral guilt) He then, also unexpectedly, experiences a feeling of joy at the idea of NOT doing it, of letting the gain he would get from it go. Most importantly, he sees both of these feelings as operating “independantly of his will”, that is, coming from completly outside himself and not a product of his “moral will power.” This is the gospel message: that any sense we may have that God’s demand is true and righteous is pure gift (leading us to seek a savior); and, any “desire” to do the right thing is also pure gift, and not a product of our own will. See King David and the prophet Nathan, for an OT “gospel moment” that is similar.
Of course, the “new man inside my old skin longing for a new world,” has obvious parallels with “born again” and “this world is not my home” themes, but I would not beat that horse too hard.
Thanks for asking Kobra. And Michael, I agree with your response. The reason I posted the excerpt was because, as I read it, it seemed to me a beautiful picture of what God’s grace to us is like. As Michael said, it comes from outside of us but changes us so completely–not in a way that we could, or even thought we wanted to, change ourselves.
Then it also reminded me of Paul’s conversion on the way to Damascus when he gets knocked off his horse out of the blue!
This passage has Gospel elements in it. In fact, it is a great example of sola gratia. But it seems to be sola gratia without sola fide. Luther’s Romans commentary reflects such a position.
Gerhard Forde has talked about this as being like being told to drive with somebody else’s foot on the accelerator. If you don’t go anywhere, whose fault is it?
Moral improvement is a gift. But our salvation is not contingent on how much of that gift we receive. While the James passage shows Gospel elements, it misses the heart of the Gospel, which is outside of us, not within us.
I’m an extra nos antinomian I guess. Thanks, Rick.