THE PRINCE

A retelling in contemporary Manhattan of the romantic quadrangle from Henry James’ The Golden Bowl.

Like James, Smith opens with a prenup, signaling the tangle of relationships that antedate the marriage in question. Henry, a wealthy widower, is giving away his only daughter, Emily, to Federico, an Italian prince with few euros to his name. Federico, unbeknownst to Emily, preceded their romance with a serious affair in the arms of Christina, who knew Emily in boarding school and is invited to her wedding. Not coincidentally, Christina and Henry eventually connect and marry, while she and Federico reopen their affair. Even married, Emily remains deeply attached to Daddy, who buys her and the prince a house three blocks from his own Manhattan mansion. “Are you with me so far?” as the Eagles ask in “Life in the Fast Lane.” The plot moves inexorably toward the discovery of infidelity, borrowing “some of the storyline and the structure” of the James masterwork, as Smith writes in an endnote. She avoids James’ painstaking psychological dissections in favor of mullings in the close third person. And she largely avoids letting this frazzled quartet’s shenanigans degenerate into soap opera. But the novel suffers from repetitions, clunky prose, and a tendency to tell rather than show. Emily’s “full” breasts appear three times over five pages. Two women have “immaculate” posture (Christina and Federico’s mother—hmm). Emily, speaking of Daddy, refers to “the immeasurable greatness of his soul” and a few pages later to “his great, all-knowing arms.” Pity the prince: “Around Henry, Federico was literally tongue-tied.” Henry has other problems: He has “no function,” “no skills, no talents,” “no job, no obligations.” Some of this reflects a lack of subtlety, not least in Smith’s update of James’ symbolic golden bowl as a Roman jar for collecting tears.

A story of rich potential that falls short in the execution.