Interpreting Edith Wharton's "Roman Fever"
Definitive criteria for judging the success or failure of a work of fiction are not
easily agreed upon; individuals almost necessarily introduce bias into any such attempt.
Only those who affect an exorbitantly refined artistic taste, however, would deny the
importance of poignancy in literary pieces. To be sure, writings of dubious and fleeting
merit frequently enchant the public, but there is too the occasional author who garners
widespread acclaim and whose works remain deeply affecting despite the passage of time.
The continued eminence of the fiction of Edith Wharton attests to her placement into such
a category of authors: it is a recognition of her propensity to create poignant and,
indeed, successful literature. The brevity of her "Roman Fever" allows for a brilliant
display of this talent?in it we find many of her highly celebrated qualities in the space
of just a few pages. "Roman Fever" is truly outstanding: a work that exposes the gender
stereotypes of its day (1936) but that moves beyond documentary to reveal something of
the perennial antagonisms of human nature.
From the story's first sentence, upon the introduction of two women of "ripe but
well-cared-for middle age," it becomes clear that stereotypes are at issue (Wharton
1116). This mild description evokes immediate images of demure and supportive wives,
their husbands' wards. Neither woman is without her "handsomely mounted black handbag,"
and it is not until several paragraphs into the piece that Mrs. Slade and Mrs. Ansley
even acquire first names (1117). Thus, without even disclosing any of the ladies'
thoughts to the reader, Wharton has already revealed a great deal of their personal
worlds. They live in a society which expects women to act largely as background figures,
thoroughly engaged with furthering their husbands' careers and the constant struggle to
remain pretty. Indeed, little else is desired or even tolerated?and Grace Ansley and
Alida Slade appear, at first glance, to conform to this image perfectly.
As the workings of the characters' minds are revealed, the extent to which they have
internalized these values becomes apparent. Each, in their brief description of the
other, mentions that her acquaintance was quite beautiful in her youth. Alida recalls
how much she enjoyed having been married to a famous lawyer; she misses being "the
Slade's wife" (1119). Startlingly, now that their husbands are dead, we find that the
women consider themselves to be in a state of "unemployment" (1118)!
But just as it begins to seem as if these women have wholly adopted their societally
prescribed personas, one begins to see deviations from the stereotype. "Alida Slade's
awfully brilliant; but not as brilliant as she thinks," decides Mrs. Ansley (1119). One
had begun to expect these "ripe but well-cared-for" women capable only of suitably
"feminine" mediocrities, but this comment reveals an insightful intellect hidden beneath
the personality's surface. Mrs. Slade, worrying that Mrs. Ansley's daughter "would
almost certainly come back engaged to the extremely eligible Campolieri," and concerned
that her own daughter may be serving "as a foil" for the young Ansley's beauty, reveals
the grim seriousness with which a woman was forced to take marriage (1121, 1120). One
begins to realize the lengths to which females put themselves in order to conform to a
decidedly cartoonish gender role as Wharton begins to expose the shortcomings and
paradoxes of this sexual stereotype.
The story's climax?Mrs. Slade's confession of forgery and Mrs. Ansley's shocking
announcement?delivers the coup de grace to society's outmoded impositions upon females.
The myth of sedate and subservient women is exploded as one realizes them fully possessed
of those traits previously held to be the exclusive property of men: cunning,
ruthlessness, and deceit. Wharton's story is groundbreaking in its presentation of two
female characters who are not defined, first and foremost, by their sex, but by their
species. "Roman Fever" allows its women to be human, but, alas, all too human.
Here, however, is the reason behind the piece's continued success. Not content with
simply an expose of the tribulations of her times, the author has infused the story with
an ageless significance. Grace and Alida, the two ladies who "had live opposite each
other?actually as well as figuratively?for years," serve also as symbols of the ongoing
conflict between those two fundamental divisions of the human psyche: introversion and
extroversion (1118).
Alida Slade, the "fuller and higher in color" of the two, is outgoing and excitement
loving, a classic extrovert (1117). Few social nuances escape her notice, and she always
looked forward, when married, to "the impromptu entertaining of eminent colleagues from
abroad" (1119). She finds life as a widow so dull that she wishes her daughter would
fall in love, "with the wrong man, even," simply so "that she might have to be watched,
out-maneuvered, rescued" (1119). Grace Ansley, "the smaller and paler one," on the other
hand, is a much more solitary, introverted figure (1117). She is "less articulate than
her friend," and her lack of overconcern for others can be seen in her "mental
portrait[s]," which are "slighter, and drawn with fainter touches" than Mrs. Slade's
(1119). Indeed, she is sufficiently withdrawn into her thoughts that even as Mrs. Slade
begins to steer the conversation to a discussion of that fateful night when Mrs. Ansley
went to the Colloseum, we find that "the latter had reached a delicate point in her
knitting." "One, two, three?slip two," is her only initial comment (1120).
Wharton's treatment of this theme is fascinating and insightful. We find that Mrs.
Slade, despite her dismissal of Mrs. Ansley as "tame and estimable," chides herself for
the fact that she will "never cure herself of envying her" (1118, 1121). Mrs. Ansley,
furthermore, regards Alida's life as "full of failures and mistakes" (1119). Mrs. Slade
has imagined for years that her letter-forging scheme successfully removed Mrs. Ansley
from competition for Delphin, but we find that, in reality, in backfired upon her in the
worst of all possible ways. Ultimately it is Grace Ansley, the more reserved of the two,
who has the last word and who suffers the smallest defeat.
The author's interpretation of the conflict between outgoing and solitary personalities
amounts to the defusing of another myth. Mrs. Slade, precisely because of her gregarious
nature, is wholly dependent on society to find enjoyment in life. Alone and in her
middle age, she is constantly observing others to glean their view of her. Despite her
self-confident ways, she is trapped within the traditions of society and is thus the more
conventional of the two. Mrs. Ansley is revealed as a character who has become
self-dependent and able to overcome societal pressures. Grace, with her knitting needles
and quiet demeanor, establishes the introvert as the more radical character.
"Roman Fever," then, is a work deserving of its place among acclaimed literature. Its
brevity, rather than stifling artistry, serves instead to showcase the skill of an adept
author. It is a multifaceted story and will doubtless continue to be enjoyed by future
generations.
Works Cited
Wharton, Edith. "Roman Fever." 1936. The Heath Anthology of American Literature. Ed.
Paul
Lauter, et al. 2nd ed. Vol. 1. Lexington: Heath, 1994. 1116-1125.
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