Nothing can compare with Wharton’s great novels, AGE OF INNOCENCE and ETHAN FROMME, which are wonderful, terrifying novels about how easy it is to waste a life.
This one however is pretty good, and certainly very contemporary. It tells the story of one Undine Spragg, a gold digger who succeeds in digging an awful lot of gold, only to find out that her reward is an overwhelming desire for more or better gold. She is from a nouveau riche Midwestern family, and ruthlessly marries her way up the New York social scale.
I was really struck by the character of her first husband, an idealistic young man she betrays extensively. We are clearly supposed to feel sorry for him, especially when he kills himself in despair. But frankly, it was hard to do. The only reason she could betray him so utterly was because he did not know the first thing about her as a person. All he was interested in was her pretty face. And surely that is a lesson as old as time: chasing the pretty girl comes with problems. Also, it stretched credulity. Who kills themselves because they were cheated on? Like eat some ice-cream, go out with your friends, and get over it.
Side point, here is a picture of me actually reading it, in Zimbabwe. I was occasionally disturbed by impala.