#house of mirth

[stanleyscubrick]

House of Mirth, Edith Wharton

#house of mirth #edith wharton #mine #studyblr #studyspo #dark academia #light academia #booklr #writing #chaotic academia #literature #classical academia

[that-dumbass-rabbit]

Writing fanfiction got me searching up things like "1905 Divorce"

#house of mirth

[darkesttimelinestuff]

Twinning

#the x files #txf #Gillian Anderson #scully #house of mirth #Lily Bart #titanic #rose #kate winslet

[linmeiwei]

“Why do we call all our generous ideas illusions, and the mean ones truths?

Edith Wharton, House of Mirth

#edith wharton #house of mirth #literature quote

[unremarkablehouse]

Aww family resemblance

#txf #the x files #gillian anderson #piper maru #DNA test complete #flipping the bird #sex education #hannibal #the fall #house of mirth

[appleinducedsleep]

ANOTHER PERSON WHOS INTO HOUSE OF MIRTH??? FINALLY???

Though we are but a small fandom, we are fierce

#it’s been a while since I posted HOM things 🥰 #Lily Bart my beloved #i have so many feelings #house of mirth

[alexa-crowe]

THE HOUSE OF MIRTH dir. Terence Davies

#house of mirth #mine #:^) #usermulder #i know you said you're bcs-/riverdale-braining rn but i figure i may as well add to your misery #don't look too closely at number 5 there. but if you do. it's not my fault her hair turned green #photoshop says that the shadow is green apparently lmao

[museenkuss]

The glow of the stones warmed Lily’s veins like wine. More completely than any other expression of wealth they symbolized the life she longed to lead, the life of fastidious aloofness and refinement in which every detail should have the finish of a jewel, and the whole form a harmonious setting to her own jewel-like rareness.

— Edith Wharton, The House of Mirth

#she’s just like me for real #Edith Wharton #house of mirth #words #Musenkuss

[monstermaster13]

#Dan Aykroyd #House of Mirth

[blabbershere]

The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.

- House of Mirth// Edith Wharton

#edith wharton #life #quotes #love #people #quote #inspiring quotes #book quotes #house #house of mirth #novel #author #book reads

[artemisia-black]

To the anon who sent me the House of Mirth ask.

I just realised that the opening scene of Gossip Girl, where Serena (the IT girl) is spotted at Grand Central by Dan, is a homage to Selden seeing Lily.

#my mind is blown #also how has it taken me this long to make the connection #both men idolise the 'it' girl #gossip girl #house of mirth

[that-dumbass-rabbit]

"Someone told me my father used to lie sleepless and think of horrors"

Lily, am I your dad?

#no because me fr #I know y'all agree #rb if you too lie awake thinking about horrors #house of mirth

[theladyofwutheringheights]

What procrastination looks like…

#literature #books #procrastination #edith wharton #age of innocence #house of mirth #marina and the diamonds #electra heart #vinyl #knitting #knitters of tumblr

[bitchyosnarky]

Writing a paper about Lily Bart resisting that pervert Gus Trenor and it's giving me emotions I know what it's like to have to sweet talk your way out of getting assaulted

#edith wharton #house of mirth #gus trenor #lily bart

[freckleslikestars]

its half five in the morning and all I can think about is how in today’s money Lily Bart’s $9000 debt to Gus would be aproximately $283,702

#gurl what did you do with $283702? #thats like...several houses #in 1901 a 9 room house in buffalo cost $1900 #lily could have bought 4 fucking houses with the amount gus 'loaned' her #I don't know why this has never bothered me before #but now I can't stop thinking about it #house of mirth #hom #lily bart #edith wharton

[frogsmulder]

You Are the Answer to My Question V

House of Mirth; epilogue; burning of the letters; about 1.3k words; rated t; for @mypanicface @burritoscully @agentsculls @foxscully @freckleslikestars and @emily–sim

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 

Two seasons passed since the dull achy emptiness of her heart was filled with Lawrence's promises of life-long love and cherishment. Since then, he has swollen her life with his ever persistent affection; his touches and caresses commonplace, his kisses abundant, and his jubilance worn with a ceaseless smile. The long summer nights of their honeymoon far too soon drew closer and cooler with the turn of golden and red leaves. He had just as soon found a house to call their home out in the country. 

Lily remembered the first time the carriage drew up the long avenue, a modest house hidden by its gardens coming into view--the red brick disguising itself. She had stepped out, Selden excitedly offering his hand to help her down. The leaves had crunched under her shoes, a carpet of colour covering the front lawn fallen from the branches above. She looked up to see a spiral of new leaves on their descent. "Exquisite," she had breathed, awestruck. 

"Yes," he had answered, gaze transfixed on her smile and wide-eyed wonder. In the warm light of the autumnal afternoon, she shone with splendour, her beauty unsurpassed even by the sublime. It complimented her well, the curls of her auburn hair glowering, framing the newly returned freshness to her features. He bowed his head, conscious of his overt appreciation of her: her nature was as sublime as any. "Mrs Lily Selden," he spoke up. "I believe it is tradition for a husband to carry one's wife over the threshold." 

Her light laugh fluttered through the air. "I know you seek great comfort in subverting tradition, my love." Her gloved grip of his hand tightened affectionately. "Maybe it is I who should carry over the threshold."

Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms, the ruffle of her skirts accompanying her giggles. Face so close to hers, he stared into the bluest depths of them, falling impossibly more in love with her as he walked through the door. 

By no means was the house a grand manor estate but the rooms that Lily wandered through sprawled in all directions, large windows letting in twinklings of light. It was large enough for their future they hoped God would bless them with.

The nights became darker and colder still, the trees dying back, their branches bare. Grey skies followed with harsher winds and hails and rain. Lily was ever conscious of her nerves as the days darkened, fearful that her mood too would darken. An anxious knot tightened around her heart at the plaguing prospect that this peace she has found will unexpectedly be ripped from her. Despite the paling weather and her worries, she was as radiant as ever, her complexion blush and glowing. 

It was on such a morning, when Selden had left to tend to business matters, that Lily stood alone in the front parlour, the lit wood fire warding away the sluice of water hammering on the panes of glass. Her previous night's rest had been tumultuous as the winter storm. Beneath her eyes, dark rings hung like wreaths, belaying her weariness. Her hair lay over her shoulders, waves caught in the motions between slumber and consciousness, having sat at her vanity and tried to tease it with a brush to no avail when she awoke. With her shaking hands, she clasped the envelopes that were the final string binding her to a past of pain and quiet suffering. She did not know why she had kept them this long; their presence in her life had haunted her, tainting it with frustration, guilt and bitter love.

Now, she has his love, his unending passion--placing a hand to the swell of her stomach, she lets go--his child. Selden's letters fall, twisting and diving, like the autumn leaves that had passed, into the flame. It caught and she smiled, the brighter orange light pouring from the hearth as the fire ate away at the painful memories and the paper that housed them for her. The ashes crumbled and flaked, and Lily closed her eyes, a smile still etched across her lips, laugh lines curling upwards a permanent reminder of the euphoria running through her. Her heart quickens in her chest, thumping wildly.

"We are home, little one. We made it." Her whisper is answered by the crack and pop of a log settling in. She runs her hand across her stomach, cradling the babe within her and sniffs. A tear slips from her eye and then another, a trail staining her cheeks quickly as they trickle over. Like the rains that soak the soil, fertile for new growth, Lily's tears mark the passing of this season of lament. The future can only be ripe with blossoms and fruit for them now. 

Sniffing again she wipes them away and leaves the fire burning behind them as she leaves the room. 

Tomorrow, Lawrence will return and she grows giddy at the prospect of seeing him again, folding into his living embrace. 

… 

The next day, the sky was clear and bright; the low winter sun shone through the bare trees to the frostbitten ground. Just before noon, a carriage pulled up the driveway, crunching gravel and frozen leaves in its path. Lily rushed out in a flurry of emotion to see her beloved step down to meet her. 

Lawrence dropped his case at the sight of her fair hair flying in the wind, her smile larger than life itself. She seemed both at once delicate and precious in her motherhood, and fuelled by ineffable fires. The result he thought, as he welcomed her into his embrace was that she positively glowed. Happiness looked good when worn by her. All other joy paled to her effervescent laugh; only with her joy had true meaning. 

"My Lily," he mumbled into her hair. "How I have missed you." 

"And I you– the both of us,"  she giggled and squealed when he spun her around– his Lily. He crouched down to the small swell of her stomach beginning to protrude. 

"How are my little angels?" Lawrence placed a reverent kiss to his child. 

Lily sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. "She has been well behaved, but I can tell she misses her father."

"She?" He looked up at her with pure wonderment in his eyes, as though God had revealed himself through her words. 

"I just know it, Lawrence: I can feel it."

Later, Lawrence found himself laying next to Lily's bare sleeping form on the plush lounger in the parlour. A fire crackled filling the silence between their rested breaths with a warm homely tune. Idly, his fingers painted amateur scribbles across her belly. He imagined in a couple of months the tiny hand he would get to hold, the tiny fingers that would grip his thumb, the tiny blue eyes that would stare up at him, the tiny feet he would tickle and they would wriggle. The time could not fly by quick enough. 

Slowly, he got to his feet to stoke the fire. Burnt parchment curled at the edge of the hearth, waving as if calling for help. Quickly, he pulled the fire guard aside and bent to retrieve the mystery paper. A familiar hand greeted him; a long forgotten memory abruptly rose like bile. He could make out the faint signature of Bertha Dorset incriminating him for his affair. Lily must have burnt them. After all this time in England–America so far away but not easily forgotten it seemed. How long had she had them? How long had she held out on him, trusted him despite his ugly actions. He collapsed onto his haunches. 

"Oh, Lily," he whispered, casting a glance to his sleeping beauty. He moved to sit beside her, kissing her forehead and tucking an errant strand of beautiful red hair behind her ear; a vain attempt to beg for her forgiveness he did not deserve. Resting his head on her belly, he let tears slip down his cheeks, quietly crying at her side. 

#hom fanfic #HoM #house of mirth #lily bart #lawrence selden #my writing