The Frame

Vanity Fair I liked a LOT more than I expected to, probably because my expectations were lowered tremendously by Mira Nair’s awful adaptation of it a few years ago. The book, however, is awesome. Becky Sharp is the consummate social climber, willing to do anything and use anyone in her path as she works her way up from Bohemian painter’s daughter to the inner circle of George IV’s court. Yet, despite her devious ways, she somehow remains incredibly likeable. A second plot which is given as much or more time than Becky’s (but is not as well-remembered by cultural consciousness) follows the meek Amelia Sedley through the rise and fall of her merchant father’s fortunes. The interplay between the two characters, nominally friends, fuels Thackeray’s satire of Georgian society. But the most delicious thing to me was his narrator, who is almost postmodern in his relish for talking to the reader, anticipating and denying the reader’s expectations, moving in and out of omniscience, suggesting alternate ways of telling the story, and other playful maneuvers. I do love me some in-your-face unreliable narrators.