Ethan Frome

By Edith Wharton

Ethan Frome, written in 1911 by Pulitzer Prize-winning American author Edith Wharton, is set in the fictitious town of Starkfield, Massachusetts. Against a backdrop of a cold, grey, bleak New England winter, a visiting engineer staying temporarily in town while working nearby, tells the story of his encounter with Ethan Frome, who is an isolated farmer trying to scrape out a living while tending to his frigid, demanding and ungrateful wife, Zeena.

The narrator’s initial impressions are based on his observations of Frome, watching as he goes about his daily tasks. Something about him catches the eye and curiosity of the visitor, yet no one in town wants to discuss or reveal many details about the strange man or his background.

The narrator ultimately finds himself having to stay overnight in Frome’s house in order to escape a fierce winter storm and is then able to observe Frome up close. When he shares his observations with others in town it triggers them to be more forthcoming with their own knowledge and impressions.

Ethan Frome is a man with a history of thwarted dreams and desires whose longing ends in an ironic turn of events. A bit of hope enters his life of despair when his wife’s cousin Mattie arrives. He falls in love with her and his life is transformed but their fate is doomed by the stifling conventions of the era.

This beautifully designed American Literature Classic presents compelling characters trapped in circumstances from which they seem unable to escape.

• Language: English
• Publisher: G&D Media
• Release date: Jul 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781722524814

Edith Wharton

EDITH WHARTON (1862 - 1937) was a unique and prolific voice in the American literary canon. With her distinct sense of humor and knowledge of New York’s upper-class society, Wharton was best known for novels that detailed the lives of the elite including: The House of Mirth, The Custom of Country, and The Age of Innocence. She was the first woman to be awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and one of four women whose election to the Academy of Arts and Letters broke the barrier for the next generation of women writers.

Book preview

Introduction

I had known something of New England village life long before I made my home in the same county as my imaginary Starkfield; though, during the years spent there, certain aspects became much more familiar to me.

Even before that final initiation, however, I had an uneasy sense that the New England of fiction bore little—except a vague botanical and dialectical—resemblance to the harsh and beautiful land as I had seen it. Even the abundant enumeration of sweet-fern, asters and mountain-laurel, and the conscientious reproduction of the vernacular, left me with the feeling that the outcropping granite had in both cases been overlooked. I give the impression merely as a personal one; it accounts for Ethan Frome, and may, to some readers, in a measure justify it.

So much for the origin of the story; there is nothing else of interest to say of it, except as it concerns its construction.

The problem before me, as I saw in the first flash, was this: I had to deal with a subject of which the dramatic climax, or rather the anti-climax, occurs a generation later than the first acts of the tragedy. This enforced lapse of time would seem to anyone persuaded—as I have always been—that every subject (in the novelist’s sense of the term) implicitly contains its own form and dimensions, to mark Ethan Frome as the subject for a novel. But I never thought this for a moment, for I had felt, at the same time, that the theme of my tale was not one on which many variations could be played. It must be treated as starkly and summarily as life had always presented itself to my protagonists; any attempt to elaborate and complicate their sentiments would necessarily have falsified the whole. They were, in truth, these figures, my granite outcroppings; but half-emerged from the soil, and scarcely more articulate.

This incompatibility between subject and plan would perhaps have seemed to suggest that my situation was after all one to be rejected. Every novelist has been visited by the insinuating wraiths of false good situations, siren-subjects luring his cockle-shell to the rocks; their voice is oftenest heard, and their mirage-sea beheld, as he traverses the waterless desert which awaits him half-way through whatever work is actually in hand. I knew well enough what song those sirens sang, and had often tied myself to my dull job till they were out of hearing—perhaps carrying a lost masterpiece in their rainbow veils. But I had no such fear of them in the case of Ethan Frome. It was the first subject I had ever approached with full confidence in its value, for my own purpose, and a relative faith in my power to render at least a part of what I saw in it.

Every novelist, again, who intends upon his art, has lit upon such subjects, and been fascinated by the difficulty of presenting them in the fullest relief, yet without an added ornament, or a trick of drapery or lighting. This was my task, if I were to tell the story of Ethan Frome; and my scheme of construction—which met with the immediate and unqualified disapproval of the few friends to whom I tentatively outlined it—I still think justified in the given case. It appears to me, indeed, that, while an air of artificiality is lent to a tale of complex and sophisticated people which the novelist causes to be guessed at and interpreted by any mere looker-on is sophisticated, and the people he interprets are simple. If he is capable of seeing all around them, no violence is done to probability in allowing him to exercise this faculty; it is natural enough that he should act as the sympathizing intermediary between his rudimentary characters and the more complicated minds to whom he is trying to represent them. But this is all self-evident, and needs explaining only to those who have never thought of fiction as an art of composition.

The real merit of my construction seems to me to lie in a minor detail. I had to find means to bring my tragedy, in a way at once natural and picture making, to the knowledge of its narrator. I might have sat him down before a village gossip who would have poured out the whole affair to him in a breath, but in doing this I should have been false to two essential elements of my picture: first, the deep-rooted reticence and inarticulateness of the people I was trying to draw, and secondly the effect of roundness (in the plastic sense) produced by letting their case be seen through eye as different as those of Harmon Gow and Mrs. Ned Hale. Each of my chroniclers contributes to the narrative just so much as he or she is capable of understanding of what, to them, is a complicated and mysterious case; and only the narrator of the tale has scope enough to see it all, to resolve it back into simplicity, and to put it in its rightful place among his larger categories.

I make no claim for originality in following a method of which La Grande Bretêche and The Ring and the Book had set me the magnificent example; my one merit is, perhaps, to have guessed that the proceeding there employed was also applicable to my small tale.

I have written this brief analysis—the first I have ever published in any of my books—because, as an author’s introduction to his work, I can imagine nothing of any value to his readers except a statement as to why he decided to attempt the work in question, and why he selected one form rather than another for its embodiment. These primary aims, the only ones that can be explicitly stated, must, by the artist, be almost instinctively felt and acted upon before there can pass into his creation that imponderable something more which causes life to circulate in it, and preserves it for a little from decay.

—Edith Wharton.

I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story.

If you know Starkfield, Massachusetts, you know the post-office. If you know the post-office you must have seen Ethan Frome drive up to it, drop the reins on his hollow-backed bay and drag himself across the brick pavement to the white colonnade; and you must have asked who he was.

It was there that, several years ago, I saw him for the first time; and the sight pulled me up sharp. Even then he was the most striking figure in Starkfield, though he was but the ruin of a man. It was not so much his great height that marked him, for the natives were easily singled out by their lank longitude from the stockier foreign breed: it was the careless powerful look he had, in spite of a lameness checking each step like the jerk of a chain. There was something bleak and unapproachable in his face, and he was so stiffened and grizzled that I took him for an old man and was surprised to hear that he was not more than fifty-two. I had this from Harmon Gow, who had driven the stage from Bettsbridge to Starkfield in pre-trolley days and knew the chronicle of all the families on his line.

He’s looked that way ever since he had his smash-up; and that’s twenty-four years ago come next February, Harmon threw out between reminiscent pauses.

The smash-up it was—I gathered from the same informant—which, besides drawing the red gash across Ethan Frome’s forehead, had so shortened and warped his right side that it cost him a visible effort to take the few steps from his buggy to the post-office window. He used to drive in from his farm every day at about noon, and as that was my own hour for fetching my mail I often passed him in the porch or stood beside him while we waited on the motions of the distributing hand behind the grating. I noticed that, though he came so punctually, he seldom received anything but a copy of the Bettsbridge Eagle, which he put without a glance into his sagging pocket. At intervals, however, the post-master would hand him an envelope addressed to Mrs. Zenobia—or Mrs. Zeena—Frome, and usually bearing conspicuously in the upper left-hand corner the address of some manufacturer of patent medicine and the name of his specific. These documents my neighbor would also pocket without a glance, as if too much used to them to wonder at their number and variety, and would then turn away with a silent nod to the post-master.

Everyone in Starkfield knew him and gave him a greeting tempered to his own grave mien; but his taciturnity was respected and it was only on rare occasions that one of the older men of the place detained him for a word. When this happened he would listen quietly, his blue eyes on the speaker’s face, and answer in so low a tone that his words never reached me; then he would climb stiffly into his buggy, gather up the reins in his left hand and drive slowly away in the direction of his farm.

It was a pretty bad smash-up? I questioned Harmon, looking after Frome’s retreating figure, and thinking how gallantly his lean brown head, with its shock of light hair, must have sat on his strong shoulders before they were bent out of shape.

Wust kind, my informant assented. More’n enough to kill most men. But the Fromes are tough. Ethan’ll likely touch a hundred.

Good God! I exclaimed. At the moment Ethan Frome, after climbing to his seat, had leaned over to assure himself of the security of a wooden box—also with a druggist’s label on it—which he had placed in the back of the buggy, and I saw his face as it probably looked when he thought himself alone. "That man touch a hundred? He looks as if he was dead and in hell now!"

Harmon drew a slab of tobacco from his pocket, cut off a wedge and pressed it into the leather pouch of his cheek. Guess he’s been in Starkfield too many winters. Most of the smart ones get away.

Why didn’t he?

Somebody had to stay and care for the folks. There warn’t ever anybody but Ethan. Fust his father—then his mother—then his wife.

And then the smash-up?

Harmon chuckled sardonically. "That’s so. He had to stay then."

I see. And since then they’ve had to care for him?

Harmon thoughtfully passed his tobacco to the other cheek. Oh, as to that: I guess it’s always Ethan done the caring.

Though Harmon Gow developed the

Reviews for Ethan Frome

[charlie68_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Dark and shadowy and full of foreboding. Predictable near the end, but the epilogue isn't.

[perlle_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A great novel about forbidden love, regret, back luck, and despair. Not as depressing as it sounds though. A must read for anyone who lives in New England.

[bexaplex · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ethan Frome is House of Mirth made over with a male protagonist and a rural backdrop. Wharton's Starkfield (!) has become the literary epitome of wintry hardscrabble New England. Like Lily Bart, Ethan chooses freedom and happiness. He wants to pay for that choice with his death, but instead pays for it with his life.

[bookdivasreads · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Although released in 1911 this story is timeless (just as applicable in 2011 as 1911). A quick read but engrossing from the first page to the last.

[benuathanasia · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

So, yeah...I can safely say I have no idea why anyone likes this. Not a damn thing of any interest happened. It's about an "affair" (though not much more beyond affectionate feelings happen). As a former high school English language arts teacher, I can easily see how "classics" like this can kill a student's potential enjoyment of literature. It was just ridiculously mediocre.

[sandydog1_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Not sure why this is considered one of her weaker works. I've read a couple others and this seemed to be the same-o story of failed love.Although a novella, it plodded like an old arthritic sorrel, through the hoary, biting ghostly whisps of evening snow, on an inky country road...

[ravingraven_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

I do not recommend this book. If you want to read an Edith Wharton novel, read the Age of Innocence. If you already have read the Age of Innocence and want to read Ethan Frome, read the Age of Innocence again. Ethan Frome was difficult to finish. Although considered a classic, this is a book I would not read again. Honestly, I wish I could forget Ethan Frome.

[gogglemiss · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was such a bleak, sad tale, that I kept wishing that Ethan could escape his loveless marriage and run off with Mattie, but there was no real happiy ending. Simplle story, beautifully written.

[mrslee_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was a fine story to read. The words were crafted so well and the mood and setting pulled you into the tale. I loved the way the author chose to present the story and can see why it has become a classic and part of American Literature classes. I'm just glad that I didn't read the description on the back of the book before I read the story though. It ruined the climax of the tale.

[moonshineandrosefire · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A farmer in turn-of-the-century New England struggles to survive and to make his farm successful. First he is tethered to the land by his helpless parents; then by his ailing wife. When Ethan's wife's alluring cousin comes to stay, she and Ethan become trapped in a hopelessly passionate love affair. Trapped by fear of public condemnation and the bonds of a loveless marriage, Ethan starts down a path which could eventually lead to tragedy for all involved.I had originally wanted to read this book after seeing the movie with Liam Neeson. Mareena and I caught the last part of the movie and were shocked at how sad it was. I love a sad book and Mareena loves the classics. I give this book an A+!

[syun_20 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Ethan Frome is a farmer who has little money to live. He lives in Massachusetts with his wife Zeena and Zeena's cousin Mattie. Mattie is younger than Zeena, so Ethan is fascinated and love her. But he has the wife, so he faces many difficulties. I was interested in this story. I think love is so difficult and scare because Ethan fell in love with Mattie even though he had the wife.

[justmerosalie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is my absolute favorite work of all time. It is so haunting. Wharton's writing skill has such an incredible ability to draw you into the setting, Cold, fultility, and loneliness cause you to feel crisp freezing nights and sense the breathtaking power in nature. Descriptions of the landscapes are incredible. Ethan falls in love with his wife's cousin who comes to help out when the wife is taken ill. The story is very realistically tragic.. It took me awhile to figure out the theme of this novel. Like the characters, I wondered what was going on and why. Wharton writes beautifully, portraying a sadness that is universal. It is Wharton at her best.

[caroren_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

A true classic, written with simple beautiful language, this shows us the romance of the 19th century in its tragic form.

[carolynschroeder · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Wow, this one sure had to be an oddity in its day. I had been looking for a love story and my friend sent me this one. I'm not entirely sure I agree with him that it's a love story, but it's hard to review this without giving the ending away. In any event, it's probably a look at what love means to some, especially in those times, e.g., themes of caring for each other, tolerating each other and depending on each other. It is a very grey and bleak book, sad, depressing and dark and a very disquieting topic for me, choosing to live a life you have absolutely no desire to live, sucking it up and making the best of it. Wharton was a wonderful writer though, the hard, cold times of rural Massachusetts are captured well and so are the inhabitants of the story, Ethan, Mattie and Zeena. I can see why many high schoolers are assigned this novella. Much fodder for discussion. Recommended, but more for the little oddity it is in that era in literature.

[gbev2008 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Wharton is a very good writer and most of the book was pretty compelling, but all the melodrama at the end was a little hard to swallow.Well written, but certainly not the classic I was led to believe.

[missboyer3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

 Tragic story of wasted lives, set against a bleak New England background. A poverty-stricken New England farmer, his ailing wife and a youthful housekeeper are drawn relentlessly into a deep-rooted domestic struggle in this hauntingly grim tale of thwarted love.

[kraysaulis · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this because so many people had told me how horribly depressing it was. True, this is not a happy story, but if you can get beyond that and look at it for literary merit it is beautiful. Every emotion is perfectly and miserably described. It is a perfect depiction of a heart-breaking situation.

[nyiper · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

How did I miss this until now? Everyone knows the name of this novel but why did I never read it? I picked it up as an audio version and was completely taken by the way Edith Wharton writes. Now I will look forward to reading some of her other works.

[ysar_6 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Tragically and simply romantic, this is one of my favorite books of all-time. Nothing terribly exciting happens...there's no big drama or action. It's just a simple story about simple people with feelings that cannot be acted upon. I can't really describe why this book drew me in. On the surface, it's depressing and bleak, but there is a depth to it that is captivating.

[osunale · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Ethan Frome is one of the most hauntingly beautiful books to earn its place as an essential of American literature. Wharton manages to portray an almost Hawthornian tale of the socially taboo with just as powerful an emotional impact.

[kristi25_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The unnamed narrator is visiting Starkfield, and comes across one of its inhabitants, a crippled and broken-spirited man, Ethan Frome. Ethan is hired to take the man to the train station and a snow storm forces them to stay at Ethan's home through the night. The narrator begins to piece together the story of the heartbreak and tragedy that is Ethan's life.Ethan Frome was my first experience with Edith Wharton. This story is tragic as are all of Wharton's novels from what I have heard, but was beautifully written. I could feel the desperation of the situation of all of them involved. It is a short and quick read, but after I had finished it, the story stuck with me. If you're not afraid of tragic endings, I would highly recommend Ethan Frome.

[cavernism · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I reread this because I read it in high school and HATED it. It is a big ball of misery - I wanted to read it again, partially because I wanted to see if knowing how depressing it is going into it would make it a better read. And it did - it's really well-written story. But also now I need something extremely cheerful to read...

[sdunford_6 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Hated this book when forced to read it in High School - was shocked to see how much better it got when I reread it as an adult.

[gypsysmom_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Such a sad tragic story but so wonderfully written. Read it.

[hadriantheblind · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Dreadful and boring.

[countrylife_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A melancholy read, with such descriptive writing that the snow on the stark fields of Starkfield glistens as you read, and the countenance of the various characters as they speak, convey their words straight to your mind's eye. The story a tragedy; the writing brilliant.

[ajbraithwaite_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Short but beautifully-written: a perfect miniature portrait of the claustrophobic natures of the harsh winters of small communities in North America in the mid-nineteenth century, of poverty and of a loveless relationship.

[bung_8 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was a refreshing, albeit bleak, read. A cynical criticism of romance, humourous, symbolic, fabulous.

[beelzebubba_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I thought it was a bit contrived that it starts out at the end, then goes back to the beginning, showing how it all happened. But I understand why she constructed it that way. I bought that Ethan was in love with Mattie, but didn't feel that Wharton did her part to show why she would feel the same for him. It should have been longer, so the rest of the characters could've been more fleshed out. She barely scratches the surface of Zeena, who could have been a fascinating character. But all in all, I enjoyed it.

[soylentgreen23 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It's hard to review such a book as this without giving away its ending, and its secrets. It should be enough to say that this is one of the most movingly sad, tragic little books I have ever had the pleasure to come across, and as depressed as I became by the end I'm still exceptionally glad to have read it.