The Forsyte Saga: "To Let" [Hardcover]

"He might wish and wish and never get it-- the beauty and the loving in the world."

The entire Forsyte Saga does a wonderful job in describing the passing of an age. On the one hand, ít's very clearly about why the age must pass but on the other it is kind to those who mourn the going. Even the Man of Property himself is sympathetic at the last. Time judges people like him harshly enough, Galsworthy seems to say.

Irene has been the animating spirit of these books-- an agent of change to the Forsytes in a way that one of their own (June) can never be. When she at last raises her hand in forgiveness to Soames before her final departure, it's a kind of triumphant benediction-- a kindness come too late. The Forsytes are all but dead and she's departing with her own to a new land.

I suppose that the next generation of Forsyte books will be aobut people with the will and temperment of the family, but without the supporting time. I wonder if it will follow Fleur or Jon, Imogene or Val.

Galworthy does a superb job of capturing the restlessness of love-- the smell of warm grass that you look for-- as though the harmony of the weather is proof of love's constancy. And that wonderful moment in _To Let_ when Fleur puts her face out the window into the night and smells only petrol. A real moment.

These are beautiful and under-rated books.

The first two books of John Galsworthy's Forsyte Saga were concerned primarily with Soames Forsyte, and his obsession with the woman he married but could never own.

And that obsession carries over into the lives of their children, almost twenty years later. The first trilogy of Galsworthy's Forsyte books ends with "To Let," an intricate and painful look at a first love tainted by the loathing and obsession of their parents -- and of the noveau riche Forsytes, who have finally had to bend to the passing of time, but haven't let go of their old grudges.

Soames and his spirited daughter Fleur are at a modern art exhibition when they accidentally brush by Irene and her loving son Jon. Despite their parents' attempts to keep them from meeting -- and learning of their sordid, shameful past -- Fleur and Jon are intriguing by one another, and start ferreting out clues about the other's identity.

The two meet again at the house of mutual relative Val Dartie, and strike up a romance -- soon Soames is furious, and Irene and the dying Jolyon are dismayed at the thought of Jon discovering their past with Soames. An aristocratic suitor for Fleur, mysterious letters and a secret love affair all bloom to the surface, as Fleur and Jon discover that love isn't always enough to overcome the bitterness of the past...

With "To Let," John Galsworthy propelled the Forsytes into an entirely new, post-World War I era, when women had gained their rights, cynicism has replaced any romanticism, and a rapidly changing culture has left the stodgier members of the family (aka Soames) half-living in the last century. Only one member of the eldest generation is left, and the "young" Forsytes are now middle-aged or elderly.

But despite dragging the Forsytes forward into the Jazz Age, with its flappers and modern art, Galsworthy's writing maintains the stately, lush flavor of the late 19th-century. And though he tosses in a few references to this artist or that war, especially in the beginning when Soames is touring June's "lame duck" gallery, the Forsyte family remains apart in a little timeless bubble.

And Galsworthy's writing has not lost its vividness. He paints this dramatic little story with colorful words and vibrant dialogue ("... over the lush grass fell the thick shade from those fruit trees planted by her father five-and-twenty years ago"). He can even spin a description of a person -- such as the still-vibrant June -- that gives a quick flash of their personality.

But at heart, "To Let" is a sort of a realist's version of "Romeo and Juliet," if Juliet's dad and Romeo's mom were exes. All the affairs, nastiness, former marriages and old grudges come to the surface all at once, and begin to rot away the young lovers' involvement. At a certain point, you know things aren't going to turn out well and someone is destined to be hurt -- all because the older Forsytes can't let go of the past.

Galsworthy also does an excellent job giving Fleur and Jon their own personalities. Fleur is passionate, cynical and free-spirited, while Jon is more quiet and introspective, and full of love for his parents. But time has not softened Soames -- he still treats his female relatives as property, and can't cope when one of them defies him. You'd think after two wives who have affairs because he "kills something in them," he would figure out that the problem isn't all them.

"To Let" rounds off a story of obsession and bitterness, by taking the elder generation's problems down to their children. A painful, passionate little story -- and the Forsyte Saga is not over yet.

Everyone's heard of "The Forsyte Saga," the BBC family epic of the late Victorian Age. Fewer have read the Galsworthy book, and that's a shame, because it's fascinating on so many levels. If you start with Book 3, you won't really get the full significance of the story; you'll be glad you started at the beginning.

On the surface it's the story of Soames Forsyte, the quintessential icon of the growth of the upper middle classes and the decline of the nobility during the Victorian era. Descended from a farmer in Dorset in the not-too-distant past, Soames is a lawyer and a man of property. He buys wisely, sells more wisely, and husbands his wealth and that of the family. He is in control of everything that affects him, except one thing--his wife. Desiring to possess the sensitive, beautiful, genteel but poor Irene, and with the help of a callous mother, Soames pressures Irene into becoming his wife. From this single mistake, the one time Soames let passion rule, his life and the lives of his family and their descendants are changed in unpredictable and frightening ways. Galsworthy's theme is the constant tussle in life between property and art, love and possession, freedom and convention. In the fine tradition of family sagas, these themes play themselves out over and over with each generation.

On another level, this is the story of an age, the story of the British Empire at its peak. Galsworthy packs his book with allusions to the great crises of the time, the Boer War and WWI, the rise of Labour, the death of the Queen, the spread of "democracy." The Forsyte homes are meticulously detailed, from the French reproduction furniture to the dusty sofas to the heavy drapes, to the fireplace grate, to the electric lights in the old chandeliers. Soames collects art, and Galsworthy showers us with the opinions of a British gentleman of the great and not so great art of the day.

The saga was written over a period of many years, and on yet another level I found the the changes in Galsworthy's style from the rather clipped, detailed recitations of events and commentary typical of the 19th century to the more expressive style of the 20th. Especially in the first volume of the three, family relationships are painstakingly laid out, the rounds of dinners and family gatherings carefully chronicled. By the third volume, To Let, Galsworthy reveals the love of the countryside and the pain of repressed emotions that the family members a generation ago would have hidden. The writing is very beautiful--as in this sentence: "Fleur raised her eyelids--the restless glint of those clear whites remained on Holly's vision as might the flutter of a caged bird's wings."

Book 3 is about Soame's and Irene's children, although they had them with other people. How that came to happen is background you shouldn't miss. Start with Book 1, "A Man of Property." It took me a good six weeks to plow through The Forsyte Saga, but it was worth it.