Auchincloss, Louis (Vol. 18)
Auchincloss, Louis 1917–
Auchincloss is an American novelist, dramatist, critic, and short story writer. His background as a lawyer and as a member of one of New York's wealthy families provides material for many of his novels of manners. Often compared to Edith Wharton, he is also considered an important critic of her work. (See also CLC, Vols, 4, 6, 9, and Contemporary Authors, Vols. 1-4, rev. ed.)
The thirteen stories in Louis Auchincloss's Tales of Manhattan are divided into three groups: "Memories of an Auctioneer," "Arnold & Degener, One Chase Manhattan Plaza," and "The Matrons." All touch in one way or another the world of wealth, power, and social distinction that Auchincloss has made peculiarly his.
The first five stories are told in the first person by Roger Jordan, who works for and is later vice president of "the ancient auction gallery of Philip Hone & Sons, at the corner of Park Avenue and Fifty-seventh Street." One is the tale of a man who spent his fortune on a castle off the coast of Maine; another deals with an eminent professor and a young charlatan; a third portrays a painter who just misses fame. All the stories show how knowledgeable Auchincloss is, and the writing is urbane and often witty. (p. 205)
Each of the stories has a surprise ending. All we think we know about the man who built the castle is suddenly reversed by his daughter. The charlatan does contribute to the reputation of the professor, though not in the way the latter had expected. The secret of the unappreciated painter turns out to be rather shocking. The fact that surprise endings are old-fashioned doesn't bother me, but I feel that four out of the five stories are obviously contrived.
The fifth story, "The Money Juggler," is both more credible and more substantial than the others. Four members of the Columbia Class of 1940—a Wall Street broker, a popular columnist, a corporation lawyer, and the auctioneer-narrator—are having lunch together. Their chief topic of conversation is "the failure and flight from justice of our classmate Lester Gordon," who had enjoyed a series of spectacular successes. None of the four had liked Gordon, either in college or afterwards, and they all take pleasure in his downfall. But as the conversation proceeds it becomes clear that each of these men, who consider themselves morally superior to Gordon, has had a share of the profits he has so unethically amassed. The theme is one that Bernard Shaw exploited in Mrs. Warren's Profession and Major Barbara—the...
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The group of people Louis Auchincloss subjects to ironic examination in [The Country Cousin] are, as they almost always are in his novels, Republican, rich, and thoroughly White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, their wealth coming from inheritance, the law and the Stock Exchange….
Mr. Auchincloss handles the legal as well as the non-legal twists and turns with easy skill, and conveys subtly, and with fairness, the hypocrisy and corruption that taint even so high-principled a fellow as Jamey. But the cultural exhibitionism which pervades the book, even if intended as caricature, is excessive, to say the least.
Adolf Wood, "At the Shrine of Art," in The Times Literary Supplement (© Times Newspapers Ltd. (London) 1978; reproduced from The Times Literary Supplement by permission), No. 3998, November 17, 1978, p. 1347.
"Life, Law and Letters" is a series of observations, all of them agreeable, like good talk after dinner. Mr. Auchincloss has a way of being interesting without sounding important. That is, there are no sirens in these pages, or in his fiction, but the intelligence is always whispering. (p. 414)
Racine, Corneille, Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., Benjamin Cardozo, Henry Adams, Henry James, Lytton Strachey and Emily Dickinson all get talked about. The talk is invariably civilized. There are no terrors. As Mr. Auchincloss tells us in "A Writer's Capital," he has always regarded it as "particularly ignominious for a New Yorker of my generation and upbringing to have failed to enjoy life." (p. 415)
"A Writer's Capital"—his childhood, of course—is a fascinating document…. Briefly, Mr. Auchincloss lets us look under his hood, then slams it shut again on our fingers.
He grew up with "a false sense of duty." While "there were not many surprises in the long probe into my past and childhood," he learned from psychoanalysis to "feel free," to create his own character independent of his "background." He resents the critics who object to his "social privilege." He writes about what he knows—money and honor and our ruling class—as he should. Gore Vidal, whom he knew in the early 1950's at the White Horse Tavern in Greenwich Village, has suggested that he is a secret enemy of his class. He is, if not a...
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[The] smoothness with which ["The House of the Prophet"] proceeds from start to finish is very nearly slick. The important plot developments occur in elegantly spoken little tête-à-têtes whose surprising frankness serves the dual purpose of titillating the reader … and of bringing each scene to a quick and electric climax. What Mr. Auchincloss's technique seems to reflect is a closed little society that functions according to agreed-upon rules, wherein people know their own minds and get things done with the merest flick of their tongues.
As usual, this makes for pleasant, easy reading. But one is tempted to complain that in "The House of the Prophet," Mr. Auchincloss's technique is distinctly ill-suited to his subject. After all, Felix Leitner, the novel's protagonist, does not really live in a world in which the rules have been made up in advance….
[What] we must keep in mind is that it is not Mr. Auchincloss who has put together this book, but rather his persona, Roger Cutter, who is at best Felix Leitner's disciple and at worst, in his own pessimistic judgment, a pilot fish to Leitner's shark. It is Roger Cutter—a figurative court eunuch, owing to his diabetes-induced sexual impotence—who has solicited memoirs of Leitner's wives and friends, written a narrative that connects them with one another, and edited the resulting posthumous biography of Leitner. (p. 184)
The tension between the egotist who appears in Cutter's narrative and the truth-seeker who stands beyond its reach, is what gives "The House of the Prophet" its redeeming ambiguity.
Does the novel ever resolve that ambiguity? Not really, and that is the triumph of the book….
[As] the title of the novel announces, this is the domestic view of the prophet without honor in his own house. But we also glimpse the prophet abroad. By giving us both views, Mr. Auchincloss has not only surpassed the limitations of his technique, he has also turned those limitations to his advantage. This makes "The House of the Prophet" easily his best novel since "The Rector of Justin," and debatably the most accomplished book he has written to date. (p. 185)
Christopher Lehmann-Haupt, "'The House of the Prophet'," in The New York Times, Section III (© 1980 by The New York Times Company; reprinted by permission), March 4, 1980 (and reprinted in Books of the Times, Vol. III, No. 5, 1980, pp. 184-85).
Mr. Auchincloss has written primarily about well-educated, decently-behaved professional people very much engaged in their work. And he has done so with considerable moral tact, sharpness of observation and narrative prudence. Reading a novel by Mr. Auchincloss is not like going on a spree, but it is never a waste of time or cause for acute spasms of nausea. There are no heights or depths, but the middle ground has its charms and occasionally its fascinations. (p. 7)
Louis Auchincloss has a fine eye for the social implications of habitat. His descriptions [in "The House of the Prophet"] of the differences and snobberies associated with two summer colonies in Maine—one the preserve of socialites, the other of academics—offer a marvelous combination of satire and shrewd observation. Moreover, he is a master of the quick character sketch, the presentation of temperament and physique in one or two strokes of the brush….
Filled with nicely enameled miniatures and well-observed settings, the novel deals with intelligent people and great issues. Why, then, one must ask, is it not a better, a more satisfying book? For, although it is always thoughtful and often entertaining, "The House of the Prophet" is a good but not outstanding piece of fiction. One reason for this is Mr. Auchincloss's lack of an ear. He is a writer who sees but cannot hear. Although the conversations in the book are often described as brilliant,...
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Joseph D. Ayd, S.J.
Had there been no Scott Fitzgerald, Louis Auchincloss might have written a better and more original novel than [The House of the Prophet] in which Felix Leitner is a disguised Jay Gatsby whose story is narrated by a Nick Caraway named Roger Cutter. While this is an interesting tale, better than most that are foisted on the public by present-day publishers, this reader is constantly distracted by the ghost of Gatsby. There are differences, of course, but it is the similarities that are striking, and Auchincloss' book suffers.
Gatsby is a disarming romantic with an all consuming dream that readers empathize with, even as they laugh at the naiveté of a man who is all heart and very little...
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[The literary device of viewing a man through the use of multiple narrations] is, of course, an old one; and the use to which it is put—to show, that if one seeks to learn the truth about a dead man from his former intimates, what one will get is merely a series of distorted reflections in a Hall of Mirrors—is also old. But Mr Auchincloss uses it with freshness. Was Leitner a monster or was he a saint?…
A novelist technically more brilliant than Mr Auchincloss—[an Anthony] Burgess or a [John] Barth—would no doubt have varied the styles of the various narrations…. The reader is here obliged to accept a convention whereby each memoir might merit the description 'as told to' Louis...
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A main theme of [The House of the Prophet] is the contrast between Leitner's happy relationship with his public and his often difficult relationships with those close to him. The title does not in fact refer to a person or a place of vatic perception but to the verse in Matthew 13:57 that says that prophets are not honored in their own houses.
The House of the Prophet reflects Auchincloss' long established strengths. The conversations are informed and adroit, the narrative tone is literate, eloquent, ironic but with a continuous undertone of seriousness. It is written with the author's enthusiastic interest in the daily conflicts and personalities of the world of influential people that...
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