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- Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
In "That Fortune," Charles Dudley Warner explores the complex interplay of luck and personal agency through a vibrant narrative steeped in 19th-century American realism. The novel presents a keen social commentary, as Warner intricately weaves the lives of his characters against the backdrop of a rapidly industrializing nation. His prose is characterized by wit and an acute observational style, revealing the absurdities and challenges of a society grappling with the allure of fortune while questioning the moral implications of wealth and success. The satirical tone invites readers to reflect on their own aspirations and the role of chance in shaping one's destiny. Charles Dudley Warner, a prominent essayist, and social commentator, was deeply influenced by his experiences in a changing America. His engagement with issues such as social reform, capitalism, and regionalism shaped his worldview and informed his writing. Warner's personal history, intertwined with the literary movements of his time, inspired him to address the paradox of striving for fortune and the ethical dilemmas that arise from it, making "That Fortune" both a personal and a societal inquiry. This novel is highly recommended for readers seeking a nuanced exploration of the American psyche during the Gilded Age. Warner's insightful observations and engaging style not only entertain but also encourage readers to critically examine the nature of success and the whims of fortune in their own lives. In this enriched edition, we have carefully created added value for your reading experience: - A succinct Introduction situates the work's timeless appeal and themes. - The Synopsis outlines the central plot, highlighting key developments without spoiling critical twists. - A detailed Historical Context immerses you in the era's events and influences that shaped the writing. - A thorough Analysis dissects symbols, motifs, and character arcs to unearth underlying meanings. - Reflection questions prompt you to engage personally with the work's messages, connecting them to modern life. - Hand‐picked Memorable Quotes shine a spotlight on moments of literary brilliance. - Interactive footnotes clarify unusual references, historical allusions, and archaic phrases for an effortless, more informed read.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
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That Fortune
Table of Contents
Introduction
That Fortune examines how the promise and peril of fortune—conceived as money, status, and the turns of fate—press upon conscience, strain friendships, and expose the unwritten contracts that hold a community together, challenging readers to consider whether prosperity clarifies a person's virtues or merely magnifies their contradictions, and inviting reflection on the subtle ways ambition, generosity, and self-deception entangle when ordinary lives brush against extraordinary opportunity, so that what begins as the prospect of gain becomes a searching trial of character, a mirror of social manners, and a quiet inquiry into what, in the end, counts as genuine success.
Written by Charles Dudley Warner (1829–1900), an American essayist and novelist best known for his urbane wit and for coauthoring The Gilded Age with Mark Twain, That Fortune belongs to the late nineteenth-century tradition of American realism. It reflects the social textures of the United States in that period, when prosperity and mobility were reshaping expectations and manners. The book is a work of fiction that engages with contemporary life rather than romance or adventure, using everyday settings and recognizable types to stage moral questions and to observe the interplay between personal aspiration and public opinion.
Without leaning on grand melodrama, the novel arranges its action around shifting expectations of gain and loss and the social theater that surrounds them. Readers encounter a measured, conversational narrative voice that favors close observation over spectacle, gentle irony over scolding, and the gradual revelation of motives over sudden shocks. The mood is reflective and cultivated, attentive to small gestures, to talk, and to the quiet pressures of reputation. The experience is that of a realist novel of manners: the drama resides in choices, misreadings, and courtesies, where external change sets the stage for inward reckonings.
Among the book's guiding concerns are the ethics of money and work, the uses and limits of social mobility, and the tension between self-making and obligation to others. It weighs how reputations are formed and traded, how kindness can be compromised by calculation, and how the rhetoric of opportunity can conceal risks to integrity. Because it is rooted in its era, the novel also touches the expectations placed upon men and women in public and domestic spheres, inviting readers to consider how ideals of success, love, and duty are filtered through the customs of a particular community.
Warner's craft, shaped by his years as an essayist, lends the book clarity of sentence and a cultivated humor that illuminates rather than ridicules. Scenes often turn on conversation—its hesitations, pleasantries, and evasions—and on descriptive pauses that situate characters within drawing rooms, streets, and workplaces familiar to his contemporary audience. The irony is steady and humane, allowing readers to infer judgments rather than supplying them. The structure favors balance and proportion, letting episodes echo one another so that themes recur with variation, and the prose maintains an even, reflective tempo that rewards attentive, unhurried reading.
Modern readers may find in That Fortune a timely mirror for recurring questions about prosperity and responsibility. The narrative's attention to appearance and reality, to speculation and steady labor, and to the pressures of public scrutiny speaks to debates that remain unsettled. It prompts reconsideration of what we owe to neighbors and institutions when opportunity knocks, and how to measure achievement in ways that extend beyond accumulation. In this sense the book's historical distance sharpens its relevance, offering a space to test convictions about fairness, ambition, gratitude, and the uses of influence without the noise of contemporary polemic.
Approached on its own terms, the novel offers the pleasure of period detail and the steadier satisfactions of moral inquiry conducted with grace. It will appeal to readers who value realism that is observant rather than sensational, satire that is sympathetic, and plots that unfold through manners and decisions rather than contrivance. As a work from the closing decades of the nineteenth century, it also complements broader reading in American social fiction of the era, tracing how ideals and institutions meet the fact of fortune and leaving the deepest resolutions to the reader's reflection.
Synopsis
That Fortune follows the rise of a promising but unestablished man as he is drawn into the orbit of a rumored great fortune. Set in late nineteenth-century American society, the story opens with modest circumstances and clear ambitions, placing the protagonist between traditional ideals and a newer culture of speculation. A chance connection to a contested claim—part legal puzzle, part financial opportunity—positions him at the threshold of sudden wealth. Social introductions carry him from quiet respectability into well-lit parlors and bustling offices, where money, influence, and reputation circulate together. The narrative sets its stakes around what wealth promises and what it requires in return.
Early chapters establish the protagonist’s background: sturdy training, sober habits, and a belief that success should come by merit. He meets families whose fortunes and names are already established, and he encounters a woman who seems to understand both his aspirations and his reservations about rapid advancement. The book contrasts old-fashioned steadiness with the quickening pace of urban finance and public life. Into this mix comes the fortune itself, less a bag of gold than a complex network of rights and expectations. Letters, introductions, and small favors begin to bind him to people whose power is born of capital and well-placed confidence.
The opportunity takes form in a claim whose value depends on law, timing, and public sentiment. Advisers and promoters attach themselves to it, each with a stake in the outcome and a version of the truth. The protagonist’s role, initially practical and cautious, expands as he proves competent and trustworthy. He is pressed to choose between prudent patience and a bolder strategy that could turn paper expectations into tangible wealth. Legal uncertainties deepen the intrigue: documents must be authenticated, rivals quieted, and narratives managed in drawing rooms as much as in offices. The fortune becomes both a path forward and a test of character.
As the claim enters the realm of influence, the scene shifts to corridors where officials, lobbyists, and journalists weigh value and credibility. Publicity becomes a tool, and the protagonist learns that the appearance of legitimacy can precede the fact. Social life mirrors this contest of impressions: conversations at dinners and summer resorts reveal conflicting philosophies of success. The central relationship is strained by the spectacle of ambition, even as mutual respect holds it together. Figures of charm and calculation arrive to hasten decisions. The story moves between private principles and public pressures, showing how alliances are formed, tested, and sometimes quietly dissolved.
Complications gather as market currents and legal challenges buffet the enterprise. A competitor advances a rival claim; a newspaper begins to question the foundations of the fortune; an ally grows impatient for profits. The protagonist faces a decision about how far to bend process for advantage, and whether the promise of wealth justifies tactics that edge past his instincts. The narrative balances the slow work of verification against the speed of speculation. Scenes in quiet houses and country lanes counterpoint the rush of city rooms and counting desks, highlighting what might be gained and what might be lost in the pursuit of a single, defining success.
Social settings expose the broader culture of the time: clubrooms where reputations trade as briskly as shares, parlors where patronage circulates behind polite wit, and newspapers that make and unmake heroes. The protagonist’s name begins to appear in reports, sometimes favorably, sometimes not. Friendly counsel offers convenience at a price, while genuine advice warns of costs not easily seen. Personal loyalties are tested as those around him choose sides or hedge their bets. The romantic thread persists, but its future depends on the integrity of decisions taken in rooms far from sentiment. The fortune now influences not just prospects, but character and standing.
A turning point arrives when scrutiny intensifies and what seemed certain begins to shift. An inquiry, a disclosure, or a reversal forces the protagonist to examine his part in the enterprise. He must decide whether to protect positions already taken or to amend course at potential personal cost. Associates reveal their true priorities: some double down, some withdraw, some quietly adjust their narratives. The stakes are framed not only in money but in honor, and the outcome promises consequences either way. The story tightens around the question of what kind of success can be claimed without compromising the very grounds on which it rests.
The resolution unfolds without spectacle, through decisions that clarify responsibilities and settle the future of the claim. The precise disposition of the fortune emerges from documents and practical arrangements rather than grand gestures. Relationships realign as characters accept gains, losses, or a measure of both. Some reputations are confirmed, others dim. The protagonist finds a path that reconciles his capabilities with his conscience, though not without cost. The romance reaches an understanding that reflects the hard lessons learned. The novel closes its political and financial threads with measured finality, showing outcomes shaped less by luck than by choices under pressure.
That Fortune presents the pursuit of wealth as a distinctly modern trial, where value is created by narrative, law, and confidence as much as by labor. It emphasizes that quick riches can demand slow reckonings, and that the most enduring gains are those compatible with one’s principles. The title points to wealth both tangible and moral, suggesting that the fortune worth having is the one that can be kept without regret. By tracing the rise, testing, and settlement of a contested claim, the book distills an era’s habits of mind, its fascination with success, and the cost of achieving it on acceptable terms.
Historical Context
Set in the closing decades of the nineteenth century, the narrative world of That Fortune unfolds in the urban and resort landscapes that defined the American Gilded Age. Its social milieus evoke New York, Boston, and Washington, D.C., as well as fashionable summer colonies such as Newport on Rhode Island’s coast, where wealth and status were displayed in conspicuous “cottages.” Electrified streetcars, telephones, and dense railroad and telegraph networks knit these places together, accelerating finance, news, and social mobility. The book’s business offices, hotels, parlors, and clubs are emblematic spaces of a society pivoting from Reconstruction’s aftermath to an era of corporate capitalism, where personal ambition intersected with speculative opportunity and rigid social hierarchies.
The Second Industrial Revolution transformed the United States between the 1870s and 1900, creating unprecedented concentrations of capital and industrial capacity. Rail mileage expanded from roughly 93,000 miles in 1880 to about 193,000 by 1900, integrating markets and enabling national corporations. John D. Rockefeller’s Standard Oil organized a pioneering trust in 1882, while Andrew Carnegie’s steel empire epitomized vertical integration and scale. A sweeping merger wave between 1895 and 1904 consolidated more than 1,800 firms into around 157 large combinations. That Fortune mirrors this environment by portraying fortunes made through corporate promotions, speculative ventures, and managerial expertise, while hinting at the social tensions and ethical questions raised by the new plutocracy’s power and the dependence of communities on distant capital.
The Panic of 1893 and the ensuing depression (1893–1897) marked the Gilded Age’s gravest financial crisis and deeply shaped the book’s world of uncertain fortunes. The bankruptcy of the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad in February 1893 signaled the collapse of an overbuilt, debt-laden rail system. The failure of National Cordage in May 1893 intensified stock market turmoil. Bank runs spread, more than 500 banks suspended operations, and an estimated 15,000 businesses failed during the slump. Unemployment surged—contemporary estimates range from 15 to 20 percent in 1894—producing breadlines and widespread hardship. The federal repeal of the Sherman Silver Purchase Act in November 1893, intended to bolster gold reserves, could not immediately restore confidence; by 1895 the Treasury’s gold dipped perilously low, prompting J. P. Morgan’s syndicate to arrange a $65 million bond sale to stabilize the currency. Labor conflict escalated as the Pullman Strike of 1894, led by Eugene V. Debs and the American Railway Union, disrupted rail traffic; federal courts issued sweeping injunctions, upheld in In re Debs (1895), and troops enforced order. Jacob Coxey’s “army” of unemployed marched to Washington in 1894 to demand public works, dramatizing the era’s social distress. In That Fortune, the plot’s fixation on windfalls, reversals, and the ethics of financial risk reflects this volatile climate: characters who chase tips, rely on speculative credit, or anchor their lives to a single enterprise embody the era’s precariousness. The novel’s skepticism toward easy wealth and its attention to reputational capital echo the period’s lessons that ill-founded enterprises, inflated securities, and political uncertainty could erase success overnight, while disciplined prudence and trustworthy networks were the only durable safeguards.
The money question climaxed in the 1896 presidential election, pitting gold-standard Republicans led by William McKinley against “free silver” Democrats and Populists rallied by William Jennings Bryan’s famous “Cross of Gold” speech (Chicago, July 9, 1896). Advocates of silver sought bimetallic coinage at a 16:1 ratio to expand credit and relieve indebted farmers and small proprietors, while creditors and many urban industrial interests favored gold for stability. McKinley, advised by Mark Hanna, won decisively in November 1896; the Dingley Tariff followed in 1897, and the Gold Standard Act was enacted in 1900. That Fortune alludes to this divide in its depiction of investors’ caution, anxieties over currency stability, and the social meanings attached to sound money versus speculative inflation.
Political corruption and reform defined the era’s public life. The spoils system’s violent logic culminated in President James A. Garfield’s assassination in July 1881 by a disgruntled office seeker, spurring the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act (1883) and the creation of a merit-based federal service. Regulatory stirrings appeared in the Interstate Commerce Act (1887), aimed at curbing discriminatory railroad rates. Urban machine politics—exemplified by Tammany Hall—sustained patronage and contracting abuses even as reformers pressed for transparency. The book’s legal and bureaucratic settings reflect these tensions: patronage exchanges, lobbying, and the limits of early regulation complicate personal advancement and test the integrity of professionals navigating the line between public service and private influence.
Rapid urbanization and heavy immigration reshaped American society. Ellis Island opened in 1892, and millions arrived from Southern and Eastern Europe in the 1890s, fueling industrial labor and swelling tenement districts. New York City’s population leapt from about 1.2 million in 1880 to roughly 3.4 million by 1900. Journalists such as Jacob Riis, in How the Other Half Lives (1890), exposed overcrowding, child labor, and inadequate sanitation. Tammany Hall under Richard Croker (dominant in the 1890s) mediated services for votes. That Fortune’s contrast between glittering parlors, speculative offices, and working-class streets mirrors the stark class stratification of the metropolis, underscoring how fortunes rested on the invisible labor and fragile livelihoods of newcomers.
Elite social regimes and philanthropic doctrines structured status and obligation. Ward McAllister’s notion of the “Four Hundred” (popularized in 1892) and the patronage of Caroline Astor codified New York’s exclusivity, while Newport’s palatial “cottages,” such as Cornelius Vanderbilt II’s Breakers (completed 1895), advertised new money’s ascent. Simultaneously, Andrew Carnegie’s “Gospel of Wealth” (1889) urged disciplined giving as a moral duty of the rich. Women’s expanding roles—propelled by higher education at colleges like Wellesley (1875) and Bryn Mawr (1885) and the club movement (General Federation of Women’s Clubs, 1890)—reframed domestic influence as civic reform. That Fortune situates marriages, social alliances, and philanthropic gestures within these codes, probing how reputation manages, legitimizes, or destabilizes wealth.
As a social and political critique, the book interrogates the moral economy of the Gilded Age: it exposes the caprices of speculative capital, the social injuries of sudden wealth, and the complicity of polite society in systemic inequities. By staging encounters among financiers, professionals, reformers, and aspirants, it tests the promises of merit against the realities of patronage, monopoly power, and inherited privilege. Its attention to currency anxieties, regulatory half-measures, and urban poverty challenges celebratory narratives of progress. The narrative scrutinizes philanthropy’s paternalism, gendered constraints on agency, and the transactional nature of elite benevolence, revealing how class divides and political compromises structured the aspirations and disappointments of the 1890s.
