A Lady Of True Distinction PDF Free Download

admin 10/12/2021

A lady of distinction. Publication date 1830 Publisher. Download 1 file. SINGLE PAGE PROCESSED TIFF ZIP download. Download 1 file. Item 3 A Lady of True Distinction, Like New Used, Free shipping in the US 3 - A Lady of True Distinction, Like New Used, Free shipping in the US. Item 4 A Lady of True Distinction, Brand New, Free shipping in the US 4 - A Lady of True Distinction, Brand New, Free shipping in the US.

Henry James

Free download available in PDF, epub, and Kindle ebook formats. Skip down page to downloads.

Tags: Fiction

Description

Complete 3 Volumes. The Portrait of a Lady is the story of a spirited young American woman, Isabel Archer, who inherits a large amount of money and subsequently becomes the victim of Machiavellian scheming by two American expatriates. Like many of James's novels, it is set in Europe, mostly England and Italy. Generally regarded as the masterpiece of James's early period, this novel reflects James's continuing interest in the differences between the New World and the Old, often to the detriment of the former. It also treats in a profound way the themes of personal freedom, responsibility, and betrayal.

This book has 638 pages in the PDF version, and was originally published in 1881.

Download for ereaders (below donate buttons)

Last week, around 20,000 people downloaded books from my site - 5 people gave donations. These books can take me from 2 to 10 hours to create. I want to keep them free, but need some support to be able to do so. If you can, please make a small donation using the PayPal or Stripe button below (average donation is £2.50). You can also support the site by buying one of the specially curated collections


PDFePubKindle

Follow Global Grey on Facebook or Twitter

Excerpt from 'The Portrait of a Lady'

Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea. There are circumstances in which, whether you partake of the tea or not—some people of course never do,—the situation is in itself delightful. Those that I have in mind in beginning to unfold this simple history offered an admirable setting to an innocent pastime. The implements of the little feast had been disposed upon the lawn of an old English country-house, in what I should call the perfect middle of a splendid summer afternoon. Part of the afternoon had waned, but much of it was left, and what was left was of the finest and rarest quality. Real dusk would not arrive for many hours; but the flood of summer light had begun to ebb, the air had grown mellow, the shadows were long upon the smooth, dense turf. They lengthened slowly, however, and the scene expressed that sense of leisure still to come which is perhaps the chief source of one's enjoyment of such a scene at such an hour. From five o'clock to eight is on certain occasions a little eternity; but on such an occasion as this the interval could be only an eternity of pleasure. The persons concerned in it were taking their pleasure quietly, and they were not of the sex which is supposed to furnish the regular votaries of the ceremony I have mentioned. The shadows on the perfect lawn were straight and angular; they were the shadows of an old man sitting in a deep wicker-chair near the low table on which the tea had been served, and of two younger men strolling to and fro, in desultory talk, in front of him. The old man had his cup in his hand; it was an unusually large cup, of a different pattern from the rest of the set and painted in brilliant colours. He disposed of its contents with much circumspection, holding it for a long time close to his chin, with his face turned to the house. His companions had either finished their tea or were indifferent to their privilege; they smoked cigarettes as they continued to stroll. One of them, from time to time, as he passed, looked with a certain attention at the elder man, who, unconscious of observation, rested his eyes upon the rich red front of his dwelling. The house that rose beyond the lawn was a structure to repay such consideration and was the most characteristic object in the peculiarly English picture I have attempted to sketch.

It stood upon a low hill, above the river—the river being the Thames at some forty miles from London. A long gabled front of red brick, with the complexion of which time and the weather had played all sorts of pictorial tricks, only, however, to improve and refine it, presented to the lawn its patches of ivy, its clustered chimneys, its windows smothered in creepers. The house had a name and a history; the old gentleman taking his tea would have been delighted to tell you these things: how it had been built under Edward the Sixth, had offered a night's hospitality to the great Elizabeth (whose august person had extended itself upon a huge, magnificent and terribly angular bed which still formed the principal honour of the sleeping apartments), had been a good deal bruised and defaced in Cromwell's wars, and then, under the Restoration, repaired and much enlarged; and how, finally, after having been remodelled and disfigured in the eighteenth century, it had passed into the careful keeping of a shrewd American banker, who had bought it originally because (owing to circumstances too complicated to set forth) it was offered at a great bargain: bought it with much grumbling at its ugliness, its antiquity, its incommodity, and who now, at the end of twenty years, had become conscious of a real aesthetic passion for it, so that he knew all its points and would tell you just where to stand to see them in combination and just the hour when the shadows of its various protuberances which fell so softly upon the warm, weary brickwork—were of the right measure. Besides this, as I have said, he could have counted off most of the successive owners and occupants, several of whom were known to general fame; doing so, however, with an undemonstrative conviction that the latest phase of its destiny was not the least honourable. The front of the house overlooking that portion of the lawn with which we are concerned was not the entrance-front; this was in quite another quarter. Privacy here reigned supreme, and the wide carpet of turf that covered the level hill-top seemed but the extension of a luxurious interior. The great still oaks and beeches flung down a shade as dense as that of velvet curtains; and the place was furnished, like a room, with cushioned seats, with rich-coloured rugs, with the books and papers that lay upon the grass. The river was at some distance; where the ground began to slope the lawn, properly speaking, ceased. But it was none the less a charming walk down to the water.

The old gentleman at the tea-table, who had come from America thirty years before, had brought with him, at the top of his baggage, his American physiognomy; and he had not only brought it with him, but he had kept it in the best order, so that, if necessary, he might have taken it back to his own country with perfect confidence. At present, obviously, nevertheless, he was not likely to displace himself; his journeys were over and he was taking the rest that precedes the great rest. He had a narrow, clean-shaven face, with features evenly distributed and an expression of placid acuteness. It was evidently a face in which the range of representation was not large, so that the air of contented shrewdness was all the more of a merit. It seemed to tell that he had been successful in life, yet it seemed to tell also that his success had not been exclusive and invidious, but had had much of the inoffensiveness of failure. He had certainly had a great experience of men, but there was an almost rustic simplicity in the faint smile that played upon his lean, spacious cheek and lighted up his humorous eye as he at last slowly and carefully deposited his big tea-cup upon the table. He was neatly dressed, in well-brushed black; but a shawl was folded upon his knees, and his feet were encased in thick, embroidered slippers. A beautiful collie dog lay upon the grass near his chair, watching the master's face almost as tenderly as the master took in the still more magisterial physiognomy of the house; and a little bristling, bustling terrier bestowed a desultory attendance upon the other gentlemen.

One of these was a remarkably well-made man of five-and-thirty, with a face as English as that of the old gentleman I have just sketched was something else; a noticeably handsome face, fresh-coloured, fair and frank, with firm, straight features, a lively grey eye and the rich adornment of a chestnut beard. This person had a certain fortunate, brilliant exceptional look—the air of a happy temperament fertilised by a high civilisation—which would have made almost any observer envy him at a venture. He was booted and spurred, as if he had dismounted from a long ride; he wore a white hat, which looked too large for him; he held his two hands behind him, and in one of them—a large, white, well-shaped fist—was crumpled a pair of soiled dog-skin gloves.

More free ebooks


The Pupil

Henry James


The Spoils of PoyntonA Lady Of True Distinction PDF Free Download

Henry James


The Wings of the Dove

A Lady Of True Distinction Pdf Free Download Pdf

Henry James

Perhaps the most famous of Lawrence's novels, it is no longer distinguished for the once-shockingly explicit treatment of its subject matter--the adulterous affair between a sexually unfulfilled upper-class married woman and the game keeper who works for the estate owned by her wheelchair bound husband. Now that we're used to reading about sex, and seeing it in the movies, it's apparent that the novel is memorable for better reasons: namely, that Lawrence was a masterful and lyrical writer, whose story takes us bodily into the world of its characters.
--
Of the many exquisite books written by D.H.Lawrence, the book which has gained the most popularity has been Lady Chatterley's Lover. Most famous because of its obscenity trial during the 1960's, Lady Chatterley's Lover is far from a 'dirty book.' Rather, through his usage of local vernacular and an in depth look at the true relationship between two humans, Lawrence has successfully portrayed sex as sacred in a world where sex is viewed as nothing more than physical pleasure. This novel is a masterful example of a writer going back to everyone's common roots and emerging with a thought provoking masterpiece designed to affect a change within its readers. Good literature announces to the world a common truth that needs to be shared, but great literature, like Lady Chatterley's Lover, provokes a revolution within the human psyche. Lady Chatterley reshapes the individual's views on sex, love, and everything accompanying what Lawrence viewed as the ultimate act. Lady Chatterley's Lover is a true masterpiece that takes a stand against the sex-obsessed culture we live in today.--Submitted by Ann
-- A Lady Of True Distinction PDF Free Download
I loved this book. I am 60 years old (a young 60, or the new 40 as they say). I wish I had read this at 20, so I could compare my feelings for it today (hopefully, I would still remember the story). It could have been written today in that society is still the same only computers have been substituted for the coal mines. The coldness of some people; their selfishness; some men's total inability to think of the woman's lot in life-only their own; class distinction; rich vs. poor; the rich living off of the backs of the poor. The cruelness of gossip and jealousy, all so 'popular' today, even more so with young girls and bullying, as mentioned in the storeyline. At first I had to ask myself if DH was actually a woman, as his thoughts are so familiar to me! But after reading about his childhood, I understand more his feelings.--Submitted by Kathi Gray


Fan of this book? Help us introduce it to others by writing a better introduction for it. It's quick and easy, click here.

Recent Forum Posts on Lady Chatterley's Lover

pale with the pallor of endless little anemones, sprinkling the shaken floor

Hi,Here are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover(chapter. 8) by DH Lawrence (planetebook, page 122):(background:The following paragraph is what Connie saw when walking in the forest..……)Little gusts of sunshine blew, strangely bright, and lit up the celandines at the wood's edge, under the hazel-rods, they spangled out bright and yellow. And the wood was still, stiller, but yet gusty with crossing sun. The first windflowers were out, and all the wood seemed pale with the pallor of endless little anemones, sprinkling the shaken floor. 'The world has grown pale with thy breath.' But it was the breath of Persephone, this time; she was out of hell on a cold morning. Cold breaths of wind came, and overhead there was an anger of entangled wind caught among the twigs. It, too, was caught and trying to tear itself free, the wind, like Absalom. How cold the anemones looked, bobbing their naked white shoulders over crinoline skirts of green. But they stood it. A few first bleached little primroses too, by the path, and yellow buds unfolding themselves.I feel the pale and pallor indicate a sad color, and the shaken floor refers to the floor, which is shaken by the wind and happy plants.But I don't know whether Connie like the scene or dislike it by this paragraph.What's the main idea of this paragraph please?Thank you very much

I really like women better than men; they are braver, one can be more frank with them

Hi,Here are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover(page 79, Chapter Six) by DH Lawrence (planetebook):(background: The following is what Tommy Dukes said, whose opinion is usually Lawrence's……)‘Oh, but they do! I don’t think since the human species was invented, there has ever been a time when men and women have liked one another as much as they do today. Genuine liking! Take myself. I really like women better than men; they are braver, one can be more frank with them.’ Why did Lawrence/Michaelis think women were better, braver and franker then men please?Thank you in advance

How could one say Yes? for years and years

Hi,Here are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover(page 64, Chapter Five) by DH Lawrence (planetebook):(background: Clifford and Connie were going around in their wood. Clifford suggested Connie have a son with another man,who should be from upper-class. Connie hesitated: go on weaving herself into his life all the rest of her life? Nothing else?……)Was it just that? She was to be content to weave a steady life with him, all one fabric, but perhaps brocaded with the occasional flower of an adventure.But how could she know what she would feel next year? How could one(=I/Connie) ever know? How could one(=I/Connie?) say Yes? for years and years? The little yes, gone on a breath!How should I understand the blue sentence please? Does the one refer to Connie herself?I take it to be how could I say: 'Yes, (I love you) for years and years'Is that possible?Thank you in advance

speaker of each paragraph

Hi, dear friendsThe following dialogue is from Lady Chatterley's lover (page 54, near the ending of Chapter Four) by DH Lawrence (planetebook).I don't know who is the speaker of each paragraph. Could you please give me some help?Thank you in advance‘My dear man, it allows the material premiss; so does the pure mind .*.*. exclusively.’ (by Tommy Dukes, I think)‘At least Bolshevism has got down to rock bottom,’ said Charlie.‘Rock bottom! The bottom that has no bottom! The Bolshevists will have the finest army in the world in a very short time, with the finest mechanical equipment.(by whom? By the way, in another version, there IS another quotation mark ’ here)‘But this thing can’t go on .*.*. this hate business. There must be a reaction .*.*. ’ said Hammond. ‘Well, we’ve been waiting for ten years .*.*. we can wait longer. Hate’s a growing thing like anything else. It’s the inevitable outcome of forcing ideas on to life, of forcing one’s deepest instincts; our deepest feelings we force according to certain ideas. We drive ourselves with a formula, like a machine. The logical mind pretends to rule the roost and the roost turns into pure hate. We’re all Bolshevists, only we are hypocrites. The Russians are Bolshevists without hypocrisy.’ (by Charlie or Tommy Dukes?)‘But there are many other ways,’ said Hammond, ‘than the Soviet way. The Bolshevists aren’t really intelligent.’ (by Hammond?)‘Of course not. But sometimes it’s intelligent to be half-witted: if you want to make your end. Personally, I consider Bolshevism half-witted; but so do I consider our social life in the west half-witted. So I even consider our far-famed mental life half-witted. We’re all as cold as cretins, we’re all as passionless as idiots. We’re all of us Bolshevists, only we give it another name. We think we’re gods .*.*. gods like men! It’s just the same as Bolshevism. One has to be human, and have a heart and a penis if one is going to escape being either a god or a Bolshevist .*.*. for they are the same thing: they’re both too good to be true.’(by Charlie orTommy Dukes?R])

proud of the integrity of his mind, and of his not being a time-server

Hi,Here are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover(page 44, Chapter Four) by DH Lawrence (planetebook):(background: Clifford was getting rich and famous. His friends came visite him talking about sex and men-women relationship. Tommy Dukes told Hammond that mental life hinges on the instinct for success and is the pivot on which all things turn……)Hammond looked rather piqued(=angry). He was rather proud of the integrity of his mind, and of his not being a time-server. None the less, he did want success.The blue sentence seems to have nothing to do with what Tommy Dukes said in logic. How should I understand the blue sentence please?But I try my best to rephrase it as:he was quite(=rather) proud of the honisty(=integrity) of his mind, and of his not being a person who flatter/fawn on upperclass people(=being a time-server).All in all, he thought he didn't take success as his only goal, as Tommy Dukes blamed, and that he had a good quality.Is that right?Thank you in advance

Mental life

Hi,Here are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover by Lawrence :I must say it makes one prefer Buddha, quietly sitting under a bo-tree, or Jesus, telling his disciples little Sunday stories, peacefully, and without any mental fireworks. No, there’s something wrong with the mental life, radically. It’s rooted in spite and envy, envy and spite. Ye shall know the tree by its fruit.( I guess mental life equals 'the life of the mind', which I met in para.5, this chapter)I have met 'mental life' many times in this novel, so I suspect it is a special cultural term, which is related to a certain cultural phenomenon, an organization or an activity.Could you tell me what it means please?Thank you in advance

she wanted a good deal from the life of a man

Hi,Here are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover(page 42, Chapter Four) by DH Lawrence (planetebook)(background: After having sexual intercourse with Michaelis, Connie felt their love affair was hopeless……)Yet other men seemed to mean nothing to her. She was attached to Clifford. He wanted a good deal of her life and she gave it to him. But she wanted a good deal from the life of a man, and this Clifford did not give her; could not.Michaelis needed(=wanted) Connie's life is because he needed her nursing and her help in writing his stories. But I don't think Connie needed a man's life. What she needed I think should be a man's love, physically and spiritually.So how should I understand the red sentence please?Thank you in advance

He gave the wry, quick hiss of a laugh

A Lady Of True Distinction PDF Free Download

Hi,Here are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover(page 34, Chapter Three) by DH Lawrence(background: Connie invited Michaelis to livingroom, and said he was like a lonely bird. Michaelis said it's very nice of her to think of him……)'Why shouldn't I think of you?' she exclaimed, with hardly breath to utter it.He gave the wry, quick hiss of a laugh.'Oh, in that way!. . .May I hold your hand for a minute?' he asked suddenly, fixing his eyes on her with almost hypnotic power, and sending out an appeal that affected her direct in the womb.I know wry means sardonic, hiss means haha, but why did Michaelis laugh at Connie please? I feel he should have be grateful to her, because she, as a lady, cared about him, and even had sex with him, which will be mentioned the subsequent paragraphs.Thank you in advance

there is nothing

HiHere are some words from the novel Lady Chatterley's Lover by Lawrence:'And you think it’s a writer of popular plays that you’ve got to be?'asked Connie.‘There, exactly!' he said, turning to her in a sudden flash. 'There’s nothing in it! There’s nothing in popularity. There’s nothing in the public, if it comes to that. There's nothing really in my plays to make them popular. It's not that. They just are like the weather. . .the sort that will have to be. . .for the time being.'Nothings here are really hard to understand. I guess 'there's nothing in it' means 'it's nothing difficult to be a writer of popular plays', 'there's nothing in popularity' means 'it's nothing difficult for me to make my plays popular', and 'there's nothing in the public' means 'it's easy to attract the public attention'.Is it right please?Thank you in advance

there is noting

A Lady Of True Distinction Pdf Free Download Word

Hi, dear friendsHere are some words from Lady Chatterley's lover, page 30, chapter three(background: Michaelis was in Wragby, talking with Mellors and Connie. Whe Connie asked: 'And you think it's a writer of popular plays that you've got to be?' Michaelis said ……)'There, exactly!' he said, turning to her in a sudden flash. 'There's nothing in it! There's nothing in popularity. There's nothing in the public, if it comes to that. There's nothing really in my plays to make them popular. It's not that. They just are like the weather. . .the sort that will have to be. . .for the time being.'There are several there is nothing in the quotations, but what do they mean? Do they all mean the same thing please?Thank you in advance