Constance Fenimore Woolson: 43 books

Constance Fenimore Woolson's literary claim to fame was her attention to detail and faithful documentation of the language, traditions, and customs of various subcultures throughout the United States and, to a lesser degree, Europe. In this stirring novel, Woolson delves deeply into the nuances and subtleties of a longtime friendship between two women.

Constance Fenimore Woolson's fiction is heavily concerned with the notion of place and the ways in which the culture, traditions, and customs of a particular locale can influence the attitudes and relationships of the people who live there. This theme is front and center in many of the stories collected in The Front Yard, which draw heavily on Woolson's own experiences in Europe.

Author Constance Fenimore Woolson excelled in collecting and conveying the kind of small, seemingly trivial details about people and places that, taken together, create rich, multifaceted reading experiences. In the novel East Angels, an often fraught friendship between two women unfurls against the...

A distant relative of the great American writer James Fenimore Cooper, Constance Fenimore Woolson emerged as an important female literary figure in the late-nineteenth century. In this fascinating volume, she recounts her extensive travels, offering readers a glimpse into a different era -- as well as...

Classic love stories… with a twist. A collection of classic love stories featuring "the one that got away:" light-hearted, with undertones of tragedy and a lingering comic finish. The flight includes: Aunt Philippa and the Men, by L.M. Montgomery The Kiss, by Kate...

It was a party of eight, arranged by Aunt Diana. She is only my aunt by marriage, and she had with her a bona fide niece, Iris Carew, a gay school-girl of seventeen, while I, Niece Martha, as Aunt Diana always calls me, own to full forty years. Professor Macquoid went for two reasons—his lungs,...

I think, more than anything else, I came to be under blue sky. "Are you fond of sky?" said the young girl who was sitting near the speaker, her eyes on the shimmering water of the lagoon which stretched north and south before the house. "I can't lay claim to tastes especially celestial, I fear," answered...

Anne, standing straight again, surveyed the garland in silence. Then she changed its position once or twice, studying the effect. Her figure, poised on the round of the ladder, high in the air, was, although unsupported, firm. With her arms raised above her head in a position which few women could...

John Rodman sat in the doorway and looked out over his domain. The little cottage behind him was empty of life save himself alone. In one room the slender appointments provided by Government for the keeper, who being still alive must sleep and eat, made the bareness doubly bare; in the other the desk...

Not many years ago the shore bordering the head of Lake Michigan, the northern curve of that silver sea, was a wilderness unexplored. It is a wilderness still, showing even now on the school-maps nothing save an empty waste of colored paper, generally a pale, cold yellow suitable to the climate, all...