TABLEAUX OF RENUNCIATION: WHARTON'S USE OF THE SHAUGHRAN IN THE AGE OF INNOCENCE James W. Gargano* The first chapter of Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence opens like a parodie introduction to a lavish period-piece. Wharton assembles her patrician characters at New York's Academy of Music "on a January evening of the early seventies" to hear Christine Nillson singing in Gounod 's Faust"1. The stage setting is re-created with meticulous detail and satirical flourishes: "The foreground, to the footlights, was covered by emerald green cloth"; the huge pansies were "considerably larger than the roses, and closely resembled . . . floral penwipers"; and "Madame Nillson" as Marguerite appears in "white cashmere slashed with pale blue satin, a reticule dangling from a blue girdle."2 With deft strokes and sophisticated condescension, Wharton operatically accommodates her fictional characters to her design. May Weiland, representing the "abysmal purity" of New York's aristocratic maidens, shyly clutches her liliesof -the-valleys with "white-gloved finger tips" and apparently fails to understand Faust's attempt to seduce the chaste Marguerite; Ellen Olenska, the worldly and estranged wife of a notorious Polish count, causes genteel shudders when she appears in the Wellands' box dressed in a "dark blue velvet gown rather theatrically caught up under her bosom"; Newland Archer, May's dillettantish suitor, modishly arrives at the opera just in time to hear the Daisy song, to champion Ellen, and to publicize his attachment to May; and Laurence Lefferts and Sillerton Jackson, New York's authorities on "form" and pedigree, judge the social maneuvers taking place in the boxes. Because of its footlight brilliance, the opera scene has naturally attracted more critical attention than Edith Wharton's presentation, in Chapter 13, of a sentimental episode from Dion Boucicault's once-famous play The Shaughran? In fact, of the many critics of The Age of Innocence, only Cynthia Griffin Woolf mentions The Shaughran, and she consigns her notice to a footnote.4 Yet, the brief incident from Boucicault 's drama provides a major insight into the novel's development; if Gounod's opera is the theatrical counterpart of Archer's quest for unli- *James W. Gargano is an Emeritus Professor of English at Washington and Jefferson College. His articles have appeared in the Sewanee Review, Nineteenth-Century Fiction, American Literature, College English, Novel, Texas Studies in Language and Literature, and many other journals. Among his books are Critical Essays on Henry James and Critical Essays on John W. DeForest. 2 James W. Gargano censed freedom, Wharton's variations on the carefully etched scene from The Shaughran reveals her intention of making restraint and renunciation her dominant themes. The two spectacles, thus, project contrasting motifs and stress the difficult balance that keeps Archer, like so many of Wharton's other protagonists, vacillating between social rebellion and conformity. In the final analysis, however, the abnegation Wharton arbitrarily associates with The Shaughran and with social stability triumphs over her hero's search for self-gratification. Gounod's Faust, which, with Nillson as Marguerite, was actually performed in New York in 1874, serves Wharton as an authentic backdrop that emphasizes Archer's desire to liberate himself from his artificial and claustrophobic world.5 Even without a Mephistopheles to abet him, Archer is romantic enough to risk status and respectability for "forbidden love." His quest for emancipation is marked by a Faustian impulse to ignore the humane values that underlie responsible social intercourse: He tests all the legitimate and some illegitimate avenues of escape from his fate and measures the depth of his own ambivalent allegiance to what Wharton satirizes as tribal rituals and codes. His engagement to May results in the early discovery that her Diana-like beauty conceals a sterile innocence that will starve his strong emotional and aesthetic cravings. In contrast, he finds Ellen Olenska's European tastes and behavior disturbing , enlarging, and irresistible. From the moment he enters her arty house on the outskirts of New York's bohemia, he adventurously perceives his own capacity for growth. In Edith Wharton's romantic idiom, he begins to see New York's tightly knit society from the perspective of Samarkand. His nature more and more awakened, he...