I’ve been plugging away at Hermione Lee’s Edith Wharton since the end of December of 2009. I read a big chunk then and after that set it aside and picked away at it from time to time. Now I’ve gotten back into and am reading it regularly weekends and evenings. And enjoying it very much.

Wharton knew several people Virginia Woolf also knew and I wondered if they had ever met. I’ve read biographies of Woolf and don’t recall it being mentioned. Now I know the answer. They never met. Wharton despised all things Bloomsbury which she associated with “lesbianism, feminism, bad manners, socialism and ‘Bolshevism,’ obscenity, exhibitionism and experimental art.” She did not like stream-of-conciousness writing and a good many of the techniques used by most modern writers. She thought modernism was formulaic and over-theorised and tended to get it tangled up in her ideas of class, race, and democracy.

Mary Berensen tried to persuade her to read Orlando. The novel was illustrated with “alluring” pictures of Vita Sackville-West and Wharton told Mary that it made her “quite ill” to look at it. She said she would read it but I don’t know if she did. I suspect that if she did, she hated it.

In 1925 both Wharton and Woolf had new books published. Wharton was resentful and prickly that her book, The Mother’s Recompense was called “old-fashioned” and Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway was praised as being “brilliant experimentalism.”

Woolf really ticked her off that same year when she published a somewhat condescending essay on American fiction in the Saturday Review. Wharton wrote to a friend:

Mrs. Virginia Woolf writes a long article…to say that no interesting American fiction is, or should be, written in English; and that Henry Hergesheimer [sic] and I are negligible because we have nothing new to give–not even a language! Well–such discipline is salutary.

I had to laugh because Woolf and Wharton are both snobs. Their differences seem to be generational. Wharton resents not being respected for her age and wisdom and Woolf, as younger generations often do, just wants the old fogey to get out of the way.

So now my question is answered. Woolf and Wharton never met but they knew enough about each other that if they had met it would have been with icy politeness and a hasty departure.