An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser (i can read book club .TXT) 📕
Description
Clyde Griffith’s parents are poor street-preachers, but Clyde doesn’t “believe,” and finds their work demeaning. At fifteen he gets a job and starts to ease out of their lives, eventually landing in some trouble that causes him to flee the town where they live. Two years later, Clyde meets his well-off uncle, who owns a large factory in upstate New York. Clyde talks his way into a job at the factory, and soon finds himself supervising a roomful of women. All alone, generally shunned by his uncle’s family, and starved for companionship, he breaks the factory’s rules and begins a relationship with a young woman who works for him. But Clyde has visions of marrying a high-society woman, and fortune smiles on him in the form of the daughter of one of his uncle’s neighbors. Soon Clyde finds himself in a love triangle of his own making, and one from which he seems incapable of extracting himself.
A newspaperman before he became a novelist, Theodore Dreiser collected crime stories for years of young men in relationships with young women of poorer means, where the young men found a richer, prettier girl who would go with him, and often took extreme measures to escape from the first girl. An American Tragedy, based on one of the most infamous of those real-life stories, is a study in lazy ambition, the very real class system in America, and how easy it is to drift into evil. It is populated with poor people who desire nothing more than to be rich, rich people whose only concern is to keep up with their neighbors and not be associated with the “wrong element,” and elements of both who care far more about appearances than reality. It offers further evidence that the world may be very different from 100 years ago, but the people in it are very much the same.
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- Author: Theodore Dreiser
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In a kind of sick fury, Clyde noticed that Sparser, who was still with Hortense, was by now holding her close and looking straight into her eyes. And she was permitting him. It gave him a feeling of lead at the pit of his stomach. Was it possible she was beginning to like this young upstart who had this car? And she had promised to like him for the present. It brought to him a sense of her fickleness—the probability of her real indifference to him. He wanted to do something—stop dancing and get her away from Sparser, but there was no use until this particular record ran out.
And then, just at the end of this, the waiter returned with a tray and put down cocktails, ginger ale and sandwiches upon three small tables which had been joined together. All but Sparser and Hortense quit and came toward it—a fact which Clyde was quick to note. She was a heartless flirt! She really did not care for him after all. And after making him think that she did, so recently—and getting him to help her with that coat. She could go to the devil now. He would show her. And he waiting for her! Wasn’t that the limit? Yet, finally seeing that the others were gathering about the tables, which had been placed near the fire, Hortense and Sparser ceased dancing and approached. Clyde was white and glum. He stood to one side, seemingly indifferent. And Laura Sipe, who had already noted his rage and understood the reason now moved away from him to join Tina Kogel, to whom she explained why he was so angry.
And then noting his glumness, Hortense came over, executing a phase of the “Grizzly” as she did so.
“Gee, wasn’t that swell?” she began. “Gee, how I do love to dance to music like that!”
“Sure, it’s swell for you,” returned Clyde, burning with envy and disappointment.
“Why, what’s the trouble?” she asked, in a low and almost injured tone, pretending not to guess, yet knowing quite well why he was angry. “You don’t mean to say that you’re mad because I danced with him first, do you? Oh, how silly! Why didn’t you come over then and dance with me? I couldn’t refuse to dance with him when he was right there, could I?”
“Oh, no, of course, you couldn’t,” replied Clyde sarcastically, and in a low, tense tone, for he, no more than Hortense, wanted the others to hear. “But you didn’t have to fall all over him and dream in his eyes, either, did you?” He was fairly blazing. “You needn’t say you didn’t, because I saw you.”
At this she glanced at him oddly, realizing not only the sharpness of his mood, but that this was the first time he had shown so much daring in connection with her. It must be that he was getting to feel too sure of her. She was showing him too much attention. At the same time she realized that this was not the time to show him that she did not care for him as much as she would like to have him believe, since she wanted the coat, already agreed upon.
“Oh, gee, well, ain’t that the limit?” she replied angrily, yet more because she was irritated by the fact that what he said was true than anything else. “If you aren’t the grouch. Well, I can’t help it, if you’re going to be as jealous as that. I didn’t do anything but dance with him just a little. I didn’t think you’d be mad.” She moved as if to turn away, but realizing that there was an understanding between them, and that he must be placated if things were to go on, she drew him by his coat lapels out of the range of the hearing of the others, who were already looking and listening, and began.
“Now, see here, you. Don’t go acting like this. I didn’t mean anything by what I did. Honest, I didn’t. Anyhow, everybody dances like that now. And nobody means anything by it. Aren’t you goin’ to let me be nice to you like I said, or are you?”
And now she looked him coaxingly and winsomely and calculatingly straight in the eye, as though he were the one person among all these present whom she really did like. And deliberately, and of a purpose, she made a pursy, sensuous mouth—the kind she could make—and practised a play of the lips that caused them to seem to want to kiss him—a mouth that tempted him to distraction.
“All right,” he said, looking at her weakly and yieldingly. “I suppose I am a fool, but I saw what you did, all right. You
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