The past permeates the life of New York society as portrayed by Edith Wharton in The Age of Innocence. Society appears to be an inherently conservative institution with extreme attention to ritual and tradition, evidenced by our introduction early in the novel to a character who can explain even the most intricate of society's family trees, and another who is the authority over "form". "(7--9). It therefore seems that the members of the Society are aware, if not explicitly, of the past through their every ritual and tradition. Newland Archer, through his training in anthropology at Harvard, continually refers to prehistoric rituals with respect to society: the most notable are during her marriage (153 pp) and engagement (59). The motif of furs and feathers worn by women and the use of words such as "clan" in the narrative reinforces this focus on the past by comparing. the current society to the ancient one. The future is also discussed explicitly: as the author of a historical novel, Wharton waves her knowledge of the future of society before them; often, the characters discuss the technological innovations about which they have heard speculation to plagiarism. Get a custom essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned" Get an Original EssayThis constant reference to time provokes the question of how these characters relate to the future and the distant past. Objects from the past and speculations about the future play an important role in the conversations: elements of the past are scattered throughout the narrative through metaphor and word choice, while speculations about the future occur in some conversations. While the past seems to have a greater presence and a different role than the future, there are two occasions where speculation about the future is present in the same scene as a significant presence of the past: in Patroon's house in Skuytercliff and at the Museum. The juxtaposition of past and future in these scenes raises the question of how the transition from discussion of the past to discussion of the future affects the mood of the scene. The first interesting passage occurs when Archer visits Ellen at Skuytercliff, the van der Luydens' estate. Archer meets Ellen on the street and they walk together to a stone house on the property that had been built in 1612 by the first Patroon (footnote - A Patroon was the owner of an estate granted by the Dutch government). There they begin an exciting conversation, but are interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Julius Beaufort; to ease the tension, Ellen uses a Beaufort remark and begins a conversation about the telephone's perspective. The setting of this scene establishes a sense of rusticity not present in New York society; although separated from the time of the house of Patroon by two and a half centuries, the change in attitude conveyed by the house of van der Luyden with respect to this house may well last millennia. The squat stone house has four rooms grouped around a central fireplace in which there is a bed of still hot embers under an iron cauldron supported by a crane (111, 113--4). This is very much in contrast to the van der Luyden house: people have always been told that the Skuytercliff house was an Italian villa. Those who had never been to Italy believed it; so did some who had done it. . . . It was a large square wooden structure, with fluted and fluted walls painted light green and white, a Corinthian portico, and fluted pillars between the windows. From the hill on which it stood a series of terraces delimited by balustrades and urns descended in the manner of steel engravings to a small lakeirregular with an asphalt edge overhung by rare weeping conifers. To the right and left, the famous weedless lawns studded with specimen trees (each of a different variety) extended to long expanses of grass crested with elaborate cast-iron ornaments; and below, in a hollow, lay the four-room stone house that the first Patroon had built on the land granted to him in 1612. (110--111) The contrast between a house built to suit its environment and a house built in spite of its environment is quite clear. The Skuytercliff house is built to appear as if it were an Italian villa in a natural setting, but it has borrowed elements from other architecture and the elements of nature within it are tamed within its limits. The land leading down from the house is terraced as in Italy, but this terracing, normally used in agricultural land to prevent erosion, is not necessary: ​​these terraces are lined with urns and columns, and no vegetation is mentioned in connection with them . Further down, a lake is held back by an asphalt edge, but is irregularly shaped, raising the question of whether it is a natural part of the environment or whether it too was created unnaturally to make the rare trees stand out at its edge. Other rare trees (one for each [specimen]) are planted at regular intervals, dotting the famous weedless lawn, the van der Luydens' lawn a velvety showcase for their tree collection. From its presentation as a foreign villa, as well as the words used to describe it (e.g., the lawn is amous), this house was clearly built for display. Even a weedless lawn – planting acres of land with a single inedible plant and maintaining it in that state – is in stark contrast to the aesthetic of Patroon's home; cast iron garden ornaments ironically combine the banal functionality of cast iron with the idea of ​​decorating this pseudo-natural environment. The contrast of this house with that of the Patroon highlights the roles of each in relation to his environment. The Patroon's house was clearly built for functionality. The central fireplace, shutters and stone walls retain heat, while the presence of a cast iron pot and a crane with which to lift the pot reinforces the age of the house. The only ornaments in the house are the shiny brasses (footnote - the brasses probably refer to the brass utensils) and the Delft plates, both functional but decorative. The setting in an old house proves to be a place where Ellen feels at ease; May later talks about Ellen's feelings about the house, saying that it is the only house she has seen in America where she could imagine being perfectly happy (162). The house turns out to be a beneficial environment for Archer too: he followed her into the narrow passage. His spirits. . . he stood up with an irrational leap. The simple house was there, with its paneling and brasswork shining in the firelight, as if it had been magically created to accommodate them. (113--114) The house is described in the same sentence as welcoming and magically created. These ideas initially seem to contradict each other: magically conjured houses are generally conceived as magnificent and exotic, and more like the van der Luydens' than a small stone cottage. However, both Ellen and Archer seem to see the cottage as an escape: Ellen notes that we won't miss the house for another hour, (113) giving a furtive note to their meeting; Archer seems disappointed that they will only have an hour together. Archer and Ellen both clearly seem to have an affinity with the ancient simplicity of this house, which allows them to escape. (Note - Obviously, there are further questions about what aspects of the house were for themcomforting and what they would rather escape from; unfortunately, these questions cannot be answered through textual analysis of individual passages, if at all, due to lack of information.) A revelation of the source of Ellen's concern seems imminent when Julius Beaufort is seen approaching the trail . Both men are surprised to see the other. Beaufort explains that he had come to inform Ellen of a house that would be perfect for her:If only this new expedient of speaking along a thread had been a little nearer to perfection, I could have told you all this from the city, and I would have been toasting myself in this moment in front of the club fire, instead of following you into the snow, he muttered, disguising real irritation under the guise; and in that opening Madame Olenska turned the conversation into the fantastic possibility that one day they might actually converse with each other from street to street, or even… an incredible dream! --- from one city to another. This was striking from all three allusions to Edgar Poe and Jules Verne, and from clichés that naturally rise to the lips of the most intelligent when they speak against time, and grappling with a new invention in which it would seem naive to believe too soon; and the telephone matter brought them safely back to the big house. (115--116) Leaving aside the irony that Beaufort pushes Ellen to leave the house that she has already decided is perfect for her to discuss a house that she thinks is perfect for her, we can see the shift from a focus on the past to a focus on the future, which is used to distract them from the present tension of Beaufort's visit. A discussion about the future is a means of transition between the Patroon house and the van der Luyden house. In this discussion, Ellen seems to play the most significant role: she raises a topic of conversation to avoid discomfort, and in the narrative she is referred to as Madame Olenska, while Beaufort and Archer are mentioned only implicitly. the future seems to regard excessive speculation as fantasy. Inserting the exclamation point is an incredible dream! in Ellen's uncited remark that perhaps phones will come between cities she seems surprisingly incredulous about the prospect. The phrase itself offers a mix of connotations. Although used as a nonsensical exclamation or as a superlative modifier, incredible generally refers to something that cannot be believed. The use of this word to modify the dream seems to imply that even the idea of ​​long distance telephones cannot be believed, i.e. that the concept itself is unbelievable. This remark appears to be rather extreme, then, in its expression of disbelief, and thus could be read as adding sarcasm to Ellen's expression of enthusiasm, given Wharton's and the reader's position fifty years hence. Referring to this possibility as fantastic reinforces their incredulity, especially considering that in its original sense, fantastic meant a dream product, rather than the meaningless exclamation it tends to be in current parlance. The description of a conversation as speaking against the clock can be read in several ways. If we parallel this phrase with a race against time, it can be understood to imply an opposition or competition between the interlocutors and time itself in which the latter has a great advantage; in this case, it would be a courageous battle to force time to reveal its secrets. A reading that holds time to be monolithic, but not necessarily animate, could push against time to imply that their speaking was pushing against time as if it were a wall. Such discourses could be considered a force, perhaps capable of moving thewall of time; however, the fact that the wall of time still moves slightly may only provide an illusion of such movement. Regardless, speaking against time could refer to an intense effort to push against the wall of time with one's words. The diction here implies that the characters discuss incredible perspectives and are engaged in an intense quest to learn the truth. The seriousness of the diction plays with the implication within the same sentence that the characters may not actually discuss the telephone's perspective, but instead resort to trivial observations that they would use about any innovation, so as not to seem naive enough to believe in anything. something like that. In other words, it seems that no matter what type of innovation these characters were discussing, the conversation would have been the same, with each character afraid to venture a belief in the possibility of new technology. The existence of a generic conversation about the future is likely to have been part of a reader's experience over fifty years after this scene; thus, describing such a conversation adds implicit irony to a discussion about the future that both the reader and Wharton know about. There's already dramatic irony, because readers are given at least 50 years' head start on the characters; furthermore, the irony is present in the fact that people still seem to react the same way to the future. One possible explanation for the juxtaposition between the past and the future is that it demonstrates the lack of the present within the scene. The present intrudes very little into this scene, as it moves from the past inside the Patroon house to the future, on the walk back to the van der Luyden house. Note, also, that Ellen was the controlling character, in determining that the past and future will be the centers of the scene: she brought Archer to the Patroon's house and leads the conversation into the future. Escape from the present is also present in a conversation between Archer and Ellen in the Museum where the presence of the past leads them to consider their role in time. Archer asks Ellen to meet somewhere they can be alone to discuss his feelings for her, at the Metropolitan Museum (262). Avoiding a busier main gallery, they had walked down a corridor to the room where Cesnola's antiques rotted in unexplored solitude. They had this melancholy retreat all to themselves, and, sitting on the sofa enclosing the central steam radiator, they stared in silence at the ebonized display cases containing the recovered fragments of Ilium. (263). The juxtaposition between the ancient and the modern is quite evident: a steam radiator, glass cabinets and even ebonized wood (footnote - which we can imagine is some sort of wood that has been artificially dyed darker to appear as ebony, a precious wood not native to America) contrasts with the ancient content of the exhibition. The extent of the exposure is greatly exaggerated by referring to it as the recovered fragments of Ilium. The use of the and of (respectively) rather than, for example, some and from implies that these are the last and only remains of Ilium, (footnote "Troy) when in reality the display probably included only one small part of the artefacts available Another interesting aspect of this sentence is the use of the passive voice in describing the artefacts which highlights the delicacy and sterility of the glass cases, the artefacts are recovered, as if they had been lost, and then put back neatly in the sterile space. the setting of a museum This language contrasts with the beginning of the description, where the artefacts are personified as moldy in asolitude without a visit, as if the artifacts were decaying or falling apart in their glass cases for lack of company. Apologizing to Ellen for the museum's modest state, Archer shares his prophetic idea that one day, perhaps, the Metropolitan Museum of Art will be a great museum. This exchange between Archer and Ellen makes for an interesting juxtaposition to the previous passage. By observing fragments of a society that no longer exists, and then discussing the future of the museum in which they sit, they place themselves in a historical context: recognizing that they inhabit a time between this ancient society and the time of the Museum's potential greatness. While it is an obvious conclusion that {everyone} lives in a historical context that falls between the past and the future, the fact that Archer thinks about the future after being confronted with the past is not necessarily the obvious thing to do, and perhaps reveals something about Archer's state of mind. Indeed, the change, as far as Archer and Ellen are concerned, is mentioned, and again juxtaposed with the artifacts. Presently, he stood up and approached the case in front of which she stood up. Its glass shelves were crowded with small broken objects - hardly recognizable household utensils, ornaments and personal trifles - made of glass, clay, discolored bronze and other substances faded by time. It seems cruel, he said, that after a while nothing matters anymore. . . no more of these little things, which were once necessary and important for forgotten people, and which now have to be guessed under a magnifying glass and labeled: "Unknown use." \ YES; but in the meantime ---\ Ah, in the meantime --- \ While she stood there, with her long sealskin cloak, her hands tucked into a small round muff, the veil pulled down like a transparent mask up to the tip of her nose, and the bouquet of violets that he had brought her, agitated with rapid breathing, it seemed incredible that that pure harmony of lines and colors should ever undergo the stupid law of change. (263--4) In addition to the antiquity implied in the museum artifacts, we can note that here there are extreme images of the tribal that add to the effect of age: Ellen has an entire heron wing in her fur hat, and is wearing a sealskin coat. The choice of these more exotic animals, which one can imagine used by Native Americans, intensifies the image. The main set of questions raised here concerns the future of Ellen and Archer. In a way, it seems like Ellen and Archer are considering whether to fade into the past. Archer's desire not to see Ellen vulnerable to the stupid law of change or as a substance tarnished by time clearly seems to foreshadow Archer's decision not to go see Ellen and perhaps rekindle their old relationship, or whether he has to rely only on memories . This question evokes the ongoing tension between the tangible and the immaterial: the question of artefacts versus memory. Artifacts may last and prove something while memories die with their owner, but they may be passed on to future generations in distorted form. The fact that Dallas believes Archer was having an affair with Ellen demonstrates distortions in oral history. Examining specific phrases provides additional information. The term time-tarnished substance has a very different connotation than that of aged materials, which are simply described as discolored. The use of the word blurred in time implies movement, as if the substance itself had become indistinct and had its boundaries vaguely defined, after traveling through so many years. The stupid law of change can be interpreted in many different ways. First, note the reference to the change as a law, as if it were a physical law or ordinance, in.