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The Custom of the Country [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Wharton, Edith
  • Author:  Wharton, Edith
  • ISBN-10:  0307949540
  • ISBN-10:  0307949540
  • ISBN-13:  9780307949547
  • ISBN-13:  9780307949547
  • Publisher:  Vintage
  • Publisher:  Vintage
  • Pages:  432
  • Pages:  432
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-Feb-2012
  • Pub Date:  01-Feb-2012
  • SKU:  0307949540-11-SPLV
  • SKU:  0307949540-11-SPLV
  • Item ID: 100429210
  • List Price: $14.00
  • Seller: ShopSpell
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  • Delivery by: Nov 27 to Nov 29
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.

Edith Wharton’s lacerating satire on marriage and materialism in turn-of-the-century New York features her most selfish, ruthless, and irresistibly outrageous female character.
 
Undine Spragg is an exquisitely beautiful but ferociously acquisitive young woman from the Midwest who comes to New York to seek her fortune. She achieves her social ambitions—but only at the highest cost to her family, her admirers, and her several husbands. Wharton lavished on Undine an imaginative energy that suggests she was as fascinated as she was appalled by the alluring monster she had created. It is the complexity of her attitude that makesThe Custom of the Country—with its rich social and emotional detail and its headlong narrative power—one of the most fully realized and resonant of her works.

"Edith Wharton's finest achievement."
--Elizabeth Hardwick

Edith Wharton (1862-1937) was born into high society in New York City. After divorcing her husband in 1913 she took up permanent residence in France. Her many stories and novels were critical successes as well as bestsellers and she won the Pulitzer Prize forThe Age of Innocencein 1921.

Book One

1

"Undine Spragg!-how can you?" her mother wailed, raising a prematurely wrinkled hand heavy with rings to defend the note which a languid "bell-boy" had just brought in.

But her defense was as feeble as her protest, and she continued to smile on her visitor while Miss Spragg, with a turn of her quick young fingers, possessed herself of the missive and withdrew to the window to read it.

"I guess it's meant for me," she merely threw over her shoulder at her mother.

"Did you ever, Mrs. Heeny?" Mrs. Spragg murmured with deprecating pride.

Mrs. Heeny, a stout professional-looking person in a waterproof, her rusty veil thrown back, and a shabby alligator bag at her feet, followed lă*

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