I love Henry James' work -- I can think of no other writer that glares so mercilessly and relentlessly into the human soul. The Golden Bowl of the title is a metaphor for every person and situation in the novel: a seemingly perfect and priceless object that contains a subtle, but debilitating flaw.

Anyone who has ever watched a friend in the midst of an affair will feel heartbreak at the desperation, connivance, and manipulation of Prince Amerigo and Charlotte Stant. Anyone who has for a moment felt the power of those with money will recognize the insouciant cruelty of Adam Verner. And anyone who has known a person who is young and careless and privileged will spot the innocent ruthlessness of Maggie Verner.

I've read "The Golden Bowl" several times and as I get older, it becomes more and more fascinating and nuanced. To everyone who is giving it a try for the first time, please don't give up on it. It's true it is not an easy book, but it is also a novel that rewards you a hundred fold for the effort you put into it. As only a truly great book can, it makes you see the world -- and yourself -- in a new, if not entirely flattering, light. ( )

This is why he was called 'The Master.' ( )

3180. The Golden Bowl, by Henry James. (read 7 Apr 1999) I had enjoyed James in the past, including what is generally considered, I thought , his most "difficult" novel, The Ambassadors, so when I saw this book was no. 32 on the Modern Library panel's 100 best I rather looked forward to reading it. James' style requires unremitting concentration, but he doesn't find much to say in this book that interested me. The plot of this novel I thought so thin, and the conclusion struck me as lame. I conclude that I approached it too lazily. ( )

Only Henry James can take a beguiling idea like quasi-incestuous adultery, add an Italian prince, a billionaire art collector, and exotic foreign travel, and make a story so tedious that it is a true chore to read.

James writes in wisps of ideas, continually layering these wisps until there is a shimmery, translucent image that gives an idea of what he is trying to get at. These literary holograms are sometimes pretty, often interesting up to a point, but there is no substance to them. By the time the image emerges from the wisps, all I can think is, “So what?”

I can appreciate the talent it took to write an entire novel without saying anything directly. James definitely had a skill that he developed to the utmost. But while I admire the talent, I have no desire to make it a part of my life. I appreciate James’s talent the way I appreciate that of the artists who can paint the face of Jesus on a grain of rice. Impressive, but I’m not going to collect a gallery of rice portraits. ( )