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Informationen zum Autor Edith Wharton (1862-1937) was born Edith Newbold Jones. A member of a distinguished New York family, she was educated privately in America and abroad. During her life, she published more than forty volumes: novels, stories, verse, essays, travel books, and memoirs. Sofia Coppola is a director, producer and screenwriter. Her films include The Virgin Suicides (1999), Lost in Translation (2003), Marie Antoinette (2006), Somewhere (2010), The Bling Ring (2013), The Beguiled (2017), and On the Rocks (2020). She won the 2004 Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay for Lost in Translation. She has written an adaptation of The Custom of the Country. Sarah Blackwood is co-founder and co-editor of the Avidly Reads short book series with NYU Press. She is currently Chair of the Department of English at Pace University. Her writings have appeared in The New Yorker, The New Republic , Slate , and The Hairpin . Blackwood is the introducer to the Penguin Classics edition of Wharton’s The Age of Innocence. Klappentext Wharton’s sly and delicious novel about the ambitious social ascent of Undine Spragg, now in a Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition, with a foreword by Sofia Coppola A Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition Considered by many to be her masterpiece, Edith Wharton’s second full-length work is a scathing yet personal examination of the exploits and follies of the modern upper class. As she unfolds the story of Undine Spragg, from New York to Europe, Wharton affords us a detailed glimpse of what might be called the interior décor of this America and its nouveau riche fringes. Through a heroine who is as vain, spoiled, and selfish as she is irresistibly fascinating, and through a most intricate and satisfying plot that follows Undine’s marriages and affairs, she conveys a vision of social behavior that is both supremely informed and supremely disenchanted. Leseprobe i "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 defence 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 the mother's glance with good-humoured approval. "I never met with a lovelier form," she agreed, answering the spirit rather than the letter of her hostess's enquiry. Mrs. Spragg and her visitor were enthroned in two heavy gilt armchairs in one of the private drawing-rooms of the Hotel Stentorian. The Spragg rooms were known as one of the Looey suites, and the drawing-room walls, above their wainscoting of highly-varnished mahogany, were hung with salmon-pink damask and adorned with oval portraits of Marie Antoinette and the Princess de Lamballe. In the centre of the florid carpet a gilt table with a top of Mexican onyx sustained a palm in a gilt basket tied with a pink bow. But for this ornament, and a copy of "The Hound of the Baskervilles" which lay beside it, the room showed no traces of human use, and Mrs. Spragg herself wore as complete an air of detachment as if she had been a wax figure in a show-window. Her attire was fashionable enough to justify such a post, and her pale soft-cheeked face, with puffy eye-lids and drooping mouth, suggested a partially-melted wax figure which had run to double-chin. Mrs. Heeny, in comparison...
