12.29.2006

The Painted Veil

The Painted Veil jumped up to the top of my list mainly because of the movie's release, but also as a result of the fact that my education thus far has been entirely devoid of W. Somerset Maugham. I shall certainly be reading more of his work after this. My initial response to the book was one of dissatisfaction, but my thoughts frequently drift to particular images or scenes that, given individual consideration were rather lovely. On top of that, I seem to keep telling people about it, which must mean something. I think my ultimate assessment is that I didn't necessarily think that the novel was great, but I loved the story.

Kitty is a beautiful young woman with a rather grand view of herself, despite the fact that she isn't particularly intelligent or witty. She's vain and selfish and has been raised to like games, society, and a certain style of living. She marries not for love or money, but because her younger (less attractive) sister suddenly becomes engaged to a man with a title and Kitty fears that her options are running out. Kitty's uncaring mother (who is constantly striving to mix with better people and push her unambitious husband into higher positions) had high hopes for her beautiful, elder daughter, but as with other things in her life, she ends up disappointed and would rather Kitty marry anyone than remain dependent on her parents. So Kitty chooses Dr. Walter Fane, a bacteriologist who works in Hong Kong. Quiet, reserved, and not terribly handsome, he only speaks when he has something to say. (Kitty reflects at one time "if nobody spoke unless he had something to say ... then the human race would very soon lose the use of speech.") He is, however, polite and worships her: "He would do anything in the world to please her. He was like wax in her hands." When alone with his wife, though, he is incredibly emotional. He uses baby talk and when she playfully chides him, he becomes tense and self-conscious. He doesn't offend or irritate Kitty, "he left her indifferent."
After the honeymoon and upon arrival in Hong Kong, Kitty becomes easy prey for Charles Townsend, the popular Assistant Colonial Secretary, and they soon embark on an affair. Kitty falls madly in love with him and, of course, Walter finds out. He informs her that he has signed up to go into the middle of a cholera epidemic. When Kitty realizes that he means for her to accompany him, she refuses, saying that it would surely kill her. Walter, finally acknowledging that he knows of her affair, tells her that if she does not, he will divorce her on the grounds of adultery and name Charles Townsend as her lover. He then offers her the opportunity to divorce him -- but only if Townsend promises in writing that his wife will agree to divorce him, too, and then Townsend and Kitty will marry. Kitty hurries to Townsend to tell him this but he quietly refuses to bring his wife into things. Kitty realizes only too late that Walter never meant to divorce her -- he meant for her to see what a unworthy coward she has fallen in love with.
Kitty goes with her husband (asking if she needs to pack anything more than a few summer things and a shroud) and the rest of the plot concerns itself with her reaction to losing her lover, ongoing marriage with a suddenly distant husband, discovery that she is pregnant (and unable to identify the father), and isolation in a cholera-infested village. Faced with her own incredible loneliness and the example set by a group of French nuns, Kitty comes to a new awareness of how shallow and selfish she is, but she also recognizes that most people live a similar existence.

The back of my edition says "The Painted Veil is a beautifully written affirmation of the human capacity to grow, to change, and to forgive." I must admit that this wouldn't be my first impression of what this book meant to me. What struck me most was the incredible sadness of the lives people created for themselves, hurting and isolating each other to make everyone miserable. The novel took a very unromantic view of life and yet there's something lovely in Maugham's portrayal of the pain that one endures in life and the choices one makes.

I was also supremely struck by the poetic influences in this novel. There are two poems that play a large role. The first is from an unfinished sonnet by Shelley that is the source of the title:
Lift not the painted veil which those who live
Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe
With colours idly spread, --- behind, lurk Fear
And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave
Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear.
The second is a poem by Goldsmith that is directly referenced within the novel, "Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog" that you can find here.

As for the movie, I knew that it would provide the romantic resolution that did not come in the book. (Thankfully, I was not foolish enough to expect it of the book, yet I knew Hollywood would not fail me.) Having received the ending that I wanted, though, I was still unsatisfied -- and perhaps more so. With the story taking a decidedly different turn, one removes much of Maugham's purpose in the novel. Does this ruin things? Not necessarily... because really, it isn't the moral that one enjoys here, it's the story. Apparently, it was a similar true story that inspired Maugham and it's the story and characters that captivated me. Rather than focus on Kitty, the movie broadens its scope to present Kitty and Walter on a more equal footing. Edward Norton does a fantastic job as more a likable Walter (certainly one must have expected that from an excellent actor) and while Naomi Watts wasn't quite as spectacular, she certainly holds her own. Apparently Norton has been trying to bring this story to the screen for years and both he and Watts produced this. The tag line for the movie was "Sometimes the greatest journey is the distance between two people." Let that lead you in your assumption of the differences between the book and the movie.

Read the NY Times review here.

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