Gina Lenz

English Composition II
Professor Zulauf
April 28, 2015
The Age of Innocence
The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton paints a striking and near impeccable picture of
Old New York culture (Phelps 384). Though Wharton tells a love story unlike most of its time,
the development of her twisted romance serves to demonstrate the the constricted space of Old
New York and the ways in which it suffocates its characters, as Brian T. Edwards describes in
The Well Built Wall of Culture (Edwards 489). During a time when tradition and honor supercede
matters of the heart, the fates of the main characters, Newland Archer, Ellen Olenska, and May
Welland are virtually predetermined by the expectations of those around them. In a series of
events that seem to result in the exact opposite of what American culture of the time might
dictate, the contrast between these traditions and the actions of those who observe them begs the
question: does the Age of Innocence refer to a period of righteousness and irreproachability as
its namesake suggests, or is the title a cynical reference to the masquerade of varying and
multiple layers of manufactured innocences (Edwards 483)? The Age of Innocence is wrought
with situational irony that explores 1870s New York tradition and culture as the spine of a pure
and virtuous society and exposes it as nothing more that a veil intended to conceal the far-frominnocent realities of the time.
Newland Archer is the first of the three main characters to test this theory. At the onset of
the novel, Newland is engaged to marry one Miss May Welland, daughter of the well respected
Mr. and Mrs. Welland and exponent of the prestigious Mingott family (Wharton 6).

Simultaneously, Mays cousin, Ellen Olenska, arrives in America from France after fleeing the
rein of an abusive husband (Wharton 11). During this Age of Innocence, it was unheard of to
publicly tolerate the influence of a young woman so careless of the dictates of Taste (Wharton
11). It follows that Ellens brazen abandonment of her wifely duties casts enormous dishonor on
the Mingott family name. Newland, partner in the Lefferts Lawfirm and Mays betrothed, is
designated to preserve the sanctity of Ellens marriage by educating her of relevant American
standards and convincing her to return to her husband (Wharton 58). In a turn of events
unforeseen by the sophisticated and well-bred Old New York society, Newland ends up falling in
love with her and attempting desperately to persuade her otherwise. As noted by Nancy Bentley
in Realism, Relativism, and the Discipline of Manners, The Age of Innocence explores[the]
tension between the real and the conventional between nature and culture (Bentley 451). As
Newlands discriminating and refined upbringing is challenged by his sheer animalistic desire for
Ellen Olenska, Wharton sets up a tug-of-war between the inherent essence of each character and
what Brian T. Edwards terms the invisible boundaries erected by Old New York society
(Edwards 489).
Conversely, in this society where leaving ones husband is fair grounds to be ostracized
from ones community, Ellen Olenska is judged harshly by her American family and their
contemporaries for her obvious disregard of discriminative Old New York values (Wharton 9).
Her conviction in her choice to do so signifies a level of heightened experience that respectable
women of the time were not expected to possess (Lewis 276). Although Ellen had long been
assimilated into the French way of life before returning to America, differences in culture did not
excuse her supposed ignorance, as France had similar, and possibly more extreme, laws and
values surrounding the topic of divorce (Wharton 198). A woman who stands on such shaky

ethical grounds could hardly surprise the members of Old New York society by reciprocating
Newland Archers desire. Indeed, the unlikely suitor is no less an object of Ellens longing than
she is his. Their respective families, in all the wonted and cherished ways of their high class
American breeding, may not have initially expected the indelicate Ellen to rise to the call of
Newlands duty to hold him faithful to May. On the contrary, it is Newland who is obliged to
flaunt a convincing depiction of an Age of Innocence. This, however, is precisely what Ellen
does, and with notable restraint against the hunger of her own heart.
While Newland and Ellens attempts at reticence are evident throughout The Age of
Innocence, the people around them begin to discover a relationship between the two that
transcends familial responsibility and the function of coaxing Ellen back into the arms of her
abuser (Wharton 200). Newland, conceivably with the intent of subjugating the allure of another
woman, as May will eventually insinuate, implores Mays family to allow a hasty engagement.
He seeks to keep his unsanctioned desire in check, but as time progresses without holding him
accountable to the choreography of marriage (Changing Mores 341), Wharton depicts a
rudimentary and uninhibited emotion that does not discriminate between era and class (Changing
Mores 342). This phenomenon does not go unnoticed. For example, already in the routine of
sending lilies-of-the-valley to May each morning, Newland selects an arrangement of fiery
yellow roses and commences the daily regimen of anonymously dispatching them to Ellen
Olenskas doorstep. The promise of purity and future happiness that lies in his floral gift to
May does little to obscure the infidelity symbolized by Ellens bouquet (Changing Mores 343).
The suspicious aura surrounding Newland and Ellens relationship becomes more
apparent to their friends and family as they begin spending more and more time together and
Ellen remains no more convinced to salvage her marriage that she was before Newlands

counsel. Talk spreads among homes both prestigious and not, and May, the epitome of
innocence, begins to hypothesize that her beloved may not be as true as she had hoped
(Wharton 94). Following the guidelines of Old New York Society to the letter, each and every
individual aware of the supposed scandal makes no mention of it to either of the offending
parties, but continues about his or her daily life, as if to openly acknowledge the presence of
deviance in society might mar his or her own standing in it (Wharton 201). Likewise, May
follows suit in maintaining her own preordained position as a woman and future wife with her
humbly self-effacing approach to Newlands wandering desires. She asks him if he is distracted
by another woman and gives him the chance to walk away from their engagement (Wharton 94).
Cynthia Griffin Wolfe describes Mays sympathetic understanding of [Newlands] emotional
conflict as a genuine offer: an offer that indicates, not only her steadfast devotion to her
culture and its values, but a wise awareness that the innocence of her time was a faade. In
fact, it is Newlands rejection of this very offer that induces Ellen Olenska to combat Newlands
advances (Wolff 431). In this way, Wharton illustrates a society that is innocent, not in the
sense that it is actually unblemished by fault or reproach, but because it outlines a way of life
that seals the mind against imagination and the heart against experience (Wharton 91).
In a final manifestation of ironic circumstance, Wharton fast-forwards to a time when Old
New York Culture gives way to new ways of life that did not set store by such old-fashioned
standards. The ethical framework that was so ingrained in people of Newland Archers time
(Wolff 430) evolves to permit such things as a separation or divorce under lawful circumstances,
and the successors of families like the Beaufords, who once took part in activities that violated
the norms and values of society, were no longer snubbed simply for the possession of a surname.
After relinquishing the prospect of a life with Ellen Olenska, and after nearly three decades of

faithful marriage to his rightful partner, Newland Archer finds himself mourning Mays death
(Wharton 208). His now adult son, Dallas, invites him on business trip to Europe, arguing that
this would be the last chance they would have to travel together before Dallas upcoming
wedding (Wharton 210).
Upon completing his required work duties, Dallas informs his father that he has made
arrangements for them both to meet Ellen Olenska at her home in Paris. Newland is visibly
baffled; his children had never met Ellen, and he had not seen her himself since before Dallas
was born. Dallas swiftly reveals his knowledge of Newland and the woman [he] would have
chucked everything for by recounting a conversation he had had with his mother before her
passing: She said she knew we were safe with you because once youd given up the thing
you most wanted (Wharton 214). Newland was now a widower in an age that no longer
threatened exile should he choose to pursue a life with Ellen, and he found himself en route with
his own son to visit her. When they arrive at their destination, Newland allows Dallas to continue
inside without him, and proceeds to ponder the entire situation as he sits on a nearby bench. After
spending some time vividly imagining the scene that might be unfolding just beyond the balcony
above, Newland Archer, against all he had fought for in the earlier years of his life, rises and
retreats to his hotel room without a backward glance (Wharton 217). Newland transforms from a
man willing to sacrifice his upbringing in a time when doing so was unheard of to a man whose
loyalty, in a modern day and age, now reflects old-fashioned principles. Moreover, sweet, pure,
and innocent May, in the last days of her life, divulged yet more proof that her outward air of
womanly innocence did not encompasses her mind along with her mannerisms.
Edith Wharton weaves irony into the exquisite fabric of The Age of Innocence that
extends beyond the skeptically present adjective innocent she chose for her title. Each of the

three main characters, in one way or another, maintains his or her own course of action that is
deeply rooted in the outwardly innocent culture of the era. Newland Archer, raised with the
highest of Old New York standards, faces the possibility of abandoning social mores, while the
unversed Ellen Olenska, who outright neglects her own social standing by perpetuating her
separation with her husband, blatantly and diligently resists Archers temptations in order to
preserve the sanctity of his marriage. The novels image of innocence, May, represents the
fabrication of Old New York as an innocent society: one that adheres to all folkways and is
deserved of prestige and respect. Still, this prestige and respect is earned in part by the efficiency
of ones mask against all things improper. When these standards diminish into a time when
divorce is no longer a four-letter word and an Archer can shamelessly marry a Beauford, the
entirety of the three-party dilemma becomes obsolete; had the situation occurred thirty years
later, the dilemma would not have even been a matter of debate. Even so, Newland, a man free
at last to pursue his passion, fails to do so. These recurrences of situational irony throughout the
novel are no doubt as frustrating to the characters involved as they may be to the modern reader,
or even Newland Archers eldest son. However, perhaps the most perplexing and ironic aspect of
Whartons tale extends beyond the tragic love triangle; it is adherence to the very customs and
traditions adopted by May and the rest of New York society that create the majority of the strife
in the lives of each character, whose intrinsic goal in life is to portray a purity and honesty
which, beneath the veil of social standing, is no more innocent than Newland Archers choice of
flowers for Ellen Olenska.