How to Read Henry James
Many people have preconceptions about Henry James’ fiction, and claim that his work is difficult to read, that it’s boring, or that it’s hard for readers to relate to his characters. I can understand these feelings, and it can be helpful for new readers of Henry James to understand some things about his work, his writing style, and the context surrounding his themes.
First of all, Henry’s fiction is slow. This isn’t a bad thing – unless you’re only used to thrillers and other books that move very fast – but just the way literature was in Henry’s time. He lived in a slow time. Travel was by horse-drawn carriage. The motorcar only became popular near the end of Henry’s life (and he took a number of thrilling rides in Edith Wharton’s car). Communication was slow too. While some people sent telegrams, just as people send text messages today (see especially the story In the Cage for reflections on the people who could afford to send telegrams often), most communication was by letter. Letters could take a long time to go from city to city, though postal services within major cities were very efficient, perhaps more so than today.

The stories Henry wrote were slow as well. Some of them took place over long periods of time, but many of them are interior stories, where much of the “action” takes place inside the minds of the characters. Henry was the first novelist to use such intense examination of characters’ feelings and motivations, and his technique opened the door to modern fiction, such as James Joyce’s Ulysses, which featured extensive interior monologues. While Henry didn’t go that far, he would give detailed looks at the thoughts of his characters, sometimes spending a page on a fleeting impression and its many ramifications. Granted, you may not want to read about what people think. Yet characterization is what makes many stories and novels so personal. The more you understand and identify with a character, the more you’re touched by their experiences.
Another complaint about Henry’s work is its context and themes. Most of his fiction is centered around upper-middle class people, and often involves situations that may lead to marriage, or to the consequences of a marriage. (There is a sub-genre of Henry’s work which looks at artists dealing with their art; some of these stories are among James’ finest short works.) If you’re not upper-middle class – the leisure class – you can still identify with the characters, who probably have the same feelings and apprehensions as you do. (Just with a bit more money.) They may travel more than you, but if you’ve ever visited a foreign country you can understand the magic of new places, such as England and Italy, for the many American travelers in his fiction.
In order to read slow fiction, you should practice slow reading. Don’t expect much to happen; with the exception of the shortest stories, what happens is very limited. Don’t read too fast. You’ll miss the subtlety of Henry’s style and language. After all, it’s style that makes Henry the great author he is. Anyone could write a story about a rambunctious young woman bucking tradition (Daisy Miller), but no one could write it with the same subtlety. When reading Henry James, be prepared to stop and go back, to reread sentences, even paragraphs, and to savor the rhythm of his words, the music of his sentences. Read some out loud, perhaps; you’ll find that Henry’s writing is especially effective when read aloud. (As I’ll write about in the future, many of Henry James’ works are idea for audiobooks.)
When I was younger, living in New York City, I read Marcel Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past on the subway and bus during my commutes from Queens to Manhattan. I shouldn’t have; it’s very hard to follow an author who writes paragraphs as others write sentences. The same is true for Henry James: don’t try to read him on the bus or subway, unless you have time to read entire chapters. It’s best to not stop reading in the middle of a chapter, because you will lose the thread. If you must do so, go back a page or so when you pick up the book again. And if you stop reading a Henry James novel for more than a day or so, it’s a good idea to re-read the end of the last chapter when you start anew.
Henry James is, for many, an acquired taste. If you’re familiar with other 19th century literature, you’ll feel right at home with the themes and style of Henry’s fiction. His later fiction, however, especially the last three novels – The Wings of the Dove, The Ambassadors, and The Golden Bowl – can be challenging because of Henry’s “late style”. In fact, you should probably not start by reading Henry James’ later novels. The best places to begin are The Aspern Papers, a short novel that looks at the problem of the artist’s legacy, Daisy Miller, another short novel, the first successful “international” story that Henry wrote, or The Portrait of a Lady, a longer work, which, while challenging, is not written in the more florid late style.
Whatever you choose as your first exploration of Henry James, his writing is not for everyone. You should give him a bit more patience than contemporary authors, but if, after a while, you just don’t “get” Henry, don’t feel bad. (Though maybe you could try a Henry James audiobook, as one person did. He’s a great author – perhaps the English language’s best novelist – but he’s not for everyone.

Reading James, late James in particular (Wings of the Dove etc.) is like reading sculpture. Sublime.
The Archaic Torso of Henry James…
It’s always much better to re-read Henry James. Or to know what happens in the end. Because, contrary to some people’s opinions, he does have good plots, and you read much too fast to get to the end to find out what becomes of Isabel Archer / Maisie / Merton Densher….
It’s funny because I dipped right into James’s last three poetic novels. It took me a long time – especially with the last one, The Golden Bowl – but I think I emerged from each of them shaken with disbelief. In a good way.
I think there are plenty of people who _can_ start reading James by reading those last three novels. But I think they are difficult for many – even I find them more “taxing”, and requiring a much more attentive reading than his earlier works. They are very powerful novels, though, and I think the commitment you make in reading them – for they are all a bit long – reinforces their power.