Sex and Vanity: A Novel

“‘I am disappointed, but there’s not much more we can do, is there?’ Lucie was always conscious of being born into privilege, and it had been drummed into her from an early age by her mother to ‘always be grateful and never complain.’ She was well aware that her room in this five-star hotel, even with the less-than-perfect view, was far nicer than what most people on the planet would ever be able to enjoy, so she was loath to grumble. Charlotte, however, had a different take on the situation.”

From a young age, Lucie has learned to control herself and play the part of the demure, submissive young lady. She doesn’t react to Charlotte or the other wedding guests’ antics because she doesn’t want to betray herself or fall short of others’ expectations of her.

“‘Well, I’m not sure how much your son is going to like me, Mrs. Zao. You see, I don’t think this wedding is going to be a massive waste at all. Isabel is my dear friend, and she does everything with intention and heart. I think it’s all going to be wonderful!’ Lucie turned abruptly and headed quickly up the stairs. She was spilling champagne along the way and knew she was behaving rudely, but she didn’t care. She was beginning to think that Charlotte had been right all along, and she was regretting the decision to accept the Zaos’ rooms. Rosemary’s words kept ringing in her ears. Maybe you could…you know…be nice to him. What the hell did she mean by that?”

Lucie’s emotional reaction to Rosemary Zao introduces Lucie’s confused feelings for Rosemary’s son, George. Lucie privately acknowledges George’s handsomeness and her compulsion toward him. However, she vehemently denies others’ suggestions that she and George would get along because she fears acknowledging her desires and feelings.

“She decided to explore a little further, feeling a bit annoyed with herself as she wandered along a path that seemed to be taking her farther and farther down the hill. Where would this lead to? Why in the world was she even looking for George? Hadn’t she told him she wanted to be alone? There was something about George—something in the way he spoke, his mannerisms, and his whole vibe—that she found so unsettling, and yet here she was thinking about him again.”

George challenges Lucie’s preconceptions about what she wants and who she is. Whenever Lucie encounters or interacts with George, her emotions become inarticulable and uncontrollable. The construction of these lines reflects Lucie’s bewilderment. Further, the image of the winding path is a metaphor for Lucie and George’s evolving, unpredictable dynamic.

“Lucie said nothing for a moment. She thought of how trivial those sandals had suddenly become to her. In the course of one afternoon, everything had changed. In the blink of an eye, someone had died. Someone’s father, someone’s husband, someone’s friend. People would be shocked and grieving. She didn’t even know the old man, and she was grieving for him. If only she had done something, if only she had started giving him CPR sooner, he might have survived. How was she going to sit through the dinner tonight at the Michelin-starred restaurant that everyone else was so excited about? How would she be able to enjoy Isabel’s wedding? How could she begin to enjoy anything ever again?”

Lucie’s response to the man with the heart attack reveals new facets of her character. Lucie freely expresses herself for the first time in this scene because she’s authentically affected by the man’s shocking fate. Her behavior isn’t performative but rather alludes to Lucie’s traumatic past and complex internal life.

“Lucie soaked in the ladies’ banter but said nothing. She couldn’t help but notice the Sultanah seated at the other end of the table, being fawned over by Mordecai. Even though she was wearing a blindingly colorful caftan and dripping in jewels, the Ortiz sisters didn’t seem to disapprove of her.”

Lucie’s internal monologue offers a narrative perspective and cultural commentary on the other characters. Lucie is a member of high society but doesn’t think the same way as her companions. Her private thoughts in this scene reveal her true feelings and beliefs and thus complicate her character.

“Lucie stirred herself from the memory, wondering how she was ever going to face George tonight. He probably thought she was a total freak. Why in the world did she kiss him? She didn’t even like him. What came over her to make her lunge at him like that back at the villa? Over and over, she was doing nothing but making bad decisions and embarrassing herself. Ignoring him, crying on him, kissing him. What would her grandmother think if she saw her behaving like this?”

Lucie feels frustrated by her attraction to George because her feelings conflict with how she sees herself. Lucie has historically been controlled, well-behaved, and obedient. When she starts acting on her feelings for George, she is forced to question who she is. These questions terrify Lucie because acknowledging her desires means not meeting others’ expectations.

“I’m so relieved. I just think it’s fascinating to witness all this—a Chinese girl of immense fortune marrying into one of the oldest families in Europe, splashing her money around on one of the most decadent weddings the world has ever seen. It’s like Henry James all over again, avec le Chinois. I can see all the old Roman and Neapolitan families sneering in the corners. But there’s a new world order in place, and Old Europa better get used to it. I forget you’re partly Chinese, you see. I’m actually quite color blind—I don’t ever think of people in terms of their skin tone. I think of you as a New Yorker.”

Baron Mordecai von Ephrussi’s remarks to Lucie during the wedding reception reveal his racism and prejudice. Lucie doesn’t respond directly to Mordecai’s insults because she’s grown accustomed to how people treat her because of her Cultural Identity and Dual Heritage. However, Mordecai’s monologue represents high-society culture and its homogenous, white-centric history.

“Yes. I was staring at the seating chart up at Villa Jovis, and the name card beside us said ‘Joshua,’ and I thought, No, no, that’s not right. There isn’t supposed to be a Joshua sitting between me and you. The energy is all wrong. So I looked around and something made me pick up George’s card. And when I placed the card next to us, I could feel the flow. I thought, Lucie and George and Petra. We three were meant to be together tonight.”

Petra’s remarks about Lucie and George at the wedding reception change how Lucie has been regarding her feelings for George. She’s tried to deny her feelings for him, but Petra’s conjectures make her wonder if her desire is valid.

“She had fucked up, she knew it. She had tried to be someone she wasn’t. She tried to do something daring, unpredictable, and carefree, and look what happened. Isabel was right. She was far too innocent, far too much of an angel, to try playing in the deep end. How would she ever face it? The embarrassment. The utter humiliation of being caught with George Zao, of all the boys in the world. Caught and exposed like that. All her life she had been so responsible, so virtuous, so perfect, and the one time she had tried pretending to be the sophisticate, the bad girl, it had all gone up in flames.”

Lucie and George’s sexual encounter belies Lucie’s controlled, deferential demeanor. Lucie has molded herself into a model of the ideal elite young lady by conforming to high society’s expectations. She’s mortified after Charlotte discovers her and George together because her impulsivity compromises how she and others see her. This incident, in turn, inspires Lucie to compartmentalize the experience to escape her shame.

“‘Between those ladies, everyone who’s anyone will know the news before the sun sets on the island. Which reminds me…’ He fished his phone out from his jacket pocket and began scrolling through his Instagram. ‘Holy Moira Rose! It’s trending! The proposal video is trending! 27,084 likes already! Cornelia Guest just liked it! Prince Joachim of Lichtenberg just re-grammed it! Oh, excuse me, I must show this to the ladies. Lucie, come. Quickly, Lucie!’ Cecil leaped out of his seat, dragging Lucie along with him.”

Cecil Pine’s performative, attention-seeking behaviors negate Lucie’s personhood. Cecil doesn’t value Lucie as a person. His desperation to publicize his and Lucie’s proposal reveals his insensitivity, selfishness, and obsession with his image.

“Now, when I first set eyes on Lucie a week after she was born, she was in her crib, and I must confess, with her peachy-white cheeks and delicate black eyelashes, I thought she looked like the most adorable, exquisite little china doll! So ever since, she has been my little china doll. She would never, ever cry, she was so quiet and well mannered, and I would dress her up in the finest silk costumes from the Orient, sent to me by my dear friend Han Suyin, and I would take her to lunch at La Grenouille, where everyone would fuss over her, or to tea at Madame Chiang Kai-shek’s. Funnily enough, Madame Chiang always argued with me and told me that my little china doll didn’t look Chinese enough! ‘Look at those freckles,’ she would say. ‘That’s no Chinese baby!’ ‘Well, she’s half Churchill,’ I would reply, ‘but thank God she didn’t inherit the Churchill nose!’ Oh, how we had so many laughs back then, and how I wish those days would last forever.”

Consuelo Barclay Churchill’s toast to Lucie at the engagement party underscores the expectations under which Lucie has lived for her entire life. Even her grandmother has never seen or valued her for who she truly is; even her grandmother devalues and abuses Lucie for her Cultural Identity and Dual Heritage. In turn, Lucie also learns to devalue and denigrate these facets of herself.

“To Granny, no matter how graciously she behaved, no matter what she accomplished, she would always only ever be the poor little china doll. But, thankfully, none of that mattered anymore. Commiserating with Cecil on the roof garden above her grandmother’s apartment, she was more convinced than ever that she had made the right decision in choosing him as her spouse. Yes, he had his eccentricities, but she was well prepared to handle them.”

Lucie uses Cecil to prove herself in high society and overcome her past. She believes that the only way to make others see her value is to marry a wealthy, elite bachelor such as Cecil. She hopes that because society accepts Cecil, they will accept her by proxy.

“There was no reason in the world to be nervous. George was just some kid she had met one summer a long time ago. They had known each other for only a week, and they were both victims of Capri, yes, victims swept up by all that beauty and history and achingly romantic, Instagrammable moments of Issie’s wedding. Yeah, that entire hedonistic occasion was designed to seduce. She was so much older and wiser now.”

George’s reappearance in Lucie’s life reignites her old desires and authentic self. Lucie tries to convince herself that George is irrelevant to her life in the present and has no bearing on her future with Cecil or on the identity she’s cultivated since Capri. However, her self-denial in this scene foreshadows the conflicts that George’s return will cause in Lucie’s life.

“‘Well, how could it ever be finished? Grief never truly leaves us, does it?’ George said softly. Lucie froze in surprise. She knew he would be staring at her in that way of his, and she wasn’t sure how she would feel if she looked back at him. She walked up to the canvas and began to put it away.”

George sees Lucie for who she is and what she feels. His accurate reading of Lucie’s most vulnerable painting helps her see George for his true emotional capacity. This moment marks a turning point in George and Lucie’s relationship and further underscores the differences between George’s and Cecil’s characters.

“‘She’s got the blood of Ming emperors flowing through her veins, mingling with the blood of Old New York and British aristocracy,’ Cecil declared. ‘Can you imagine what our children will look like? Quarter Asians are the most beautiful species in the world—just look at Prince Nikolai of Denmark, who’s modeling for all the top fashion houses now, or that blond kid on Saved by the Bell, or Phoebe Cates, who still looks like she’s twenty-five! Our children will never age!’”

Cecil’s regard for Lucie’s Cultural Identity and Dual Heritage reveals his prejudice and racism. Cecil perpetually insists that he and Lucie are perfect for each other. However, he only wants to be with Lucie because he has exoticized her and thinks that her background will prove him to be culturally sensitive and aware.

“Charlotte, don’t start with all that again. Capri is ancient history. I’m about to be happily married and George couldn’t care less about me. He’s got this Swedish model girlfriend with blond hair like an Afghan hound’s and legs that go up to her throat.”

Lucie tries to convince Charlotte that there is nothing between her and George anymore because she’s trying to negate her desires. She’s particularly eager to make Charlotte believe her because Charlotte is one of the only characters with direct access to what happened in Capri. If she’s vulnerable with Charlotte, she fears that Charlotte will expose and humiliate her.

“She needed fresh air. She needed to think. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. How can I face George? I can’t see him, I can’t see him, I can’t see him. Should I just leave? Should I get an Uber right now and go straight home? Should I say something to Cecil? Should I pretend nothing’s wrong? The heavy metal door opened behind her, and George stepped out. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.”

The style and tone of this passage capture Lucie’s harried, frantic state of mind after seeing Glimpses of the Moon. Lucie responds to the film this way because Olivia Lavistock has exposed her biggest secret. She becomes desperate to escape the theater and her companions because the movie has made her feel ashamed and guilty.

“Lucie felt a huge sense of relief as she saw them go. Now the only one left to get rid of was Rosemary. She needed to steel herself to confront Charlotte privately. She felt like her mind was spinning out of control with…what? Shame? Desire? Contempt? She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but she knew one thing—it was all Charlotte’s fault. She never would have inhaled George’s face outside the theater tonight if Charlotte hadn’t blabbed to Olivia about what happened at Villa Jovis, if Olivia hadn’t betrayed them all by showcasing the whole affair in her movie.”

Lucie blames Charlotte for her conflicts with George in Part 2 because she doesn’t want to admit her feelings and accept that she isn’t the woman she’s been pretending to be. She directs her frustration at Charlotte because doing so is easier than confronting her true desires and needs.

“He loves the idea of you, the image of you; he just wants to post beautiful, hot pictures of you and him and see how many likes he gets. He’s in love with the social media impression of you, how you enhance his brand. It’s all about sex and vanity to him, nothing else! He can’t possibly love you in the way you deserve to be loved because he’s incapable of seeing you as a real person, a real woman.”

George’s profession of love for Lucie challenges Lucie to evaluate the true nature of her relationship with Cecil. George articulates the distasteful facets of Cecil’s character that Lucie has been trying to ignore so that she can manufacture the perfect, high-society life. George compels Lucie to reassess her engagement and, by extension, her future.

“You were barely four when Dad died. I had to deal with it all—I took care of you, I shielded you from everything, and by the time you were fully conscious Mom had already adjusted to all her meds, so you’ve only ever known ‘Happy Mom.’ You have no idea how lucky you are.”

Lucie begins to speak her mind and claim her experience in the latter chapters of the novel. Her newfound ability to tell her loved ones what she’s been feeling reveals her willingness to change and her desire for autonomy over her life and identity.

“I can’t explain it. It’s like your whole energy has changed, your voice has been transformed. There’s a new clarity, a fiery quality to it. Like someone who’s been transfigured.”

Cecil’s response to Lucie when she breaks off their engagement underscores his emotional ineptitude. Cecil insists that Lucie seems like a new person; however, Lucie is simply showing Cecil her true self for the first time. This scene is the first in which Lucie speaks openly with Cecil and lets him see who she is and what she wants.

“Why is it that every time you introduce me to someone new, you have to explain to them exactly how we’re related? Our racist grandmother does the exact same thing, as if no one would ever believe from looking at my face that I was really a Churchill, a bona fide Mayflower Knickerbocker Social Register Churchill!”

Lucie confronts Charlotte about their relationship, her childhood, and their grandmother as a way to understand her complex interiority. Lucie has lived with these beliefs throughout her childhood and adulthood but has never been able to express them clearly. This volatile scene thus marks a turning point in Lucie’s character arc.

“Lucie, I’m really trying to stay out of your business, but it seems like you won’t let it go. Who are we kidding here? You were in the middle of a takedown, a total smear campaign. Now, I don’t live in your building, I don’t know any of these people, and this really doesn’t concern me, but please have some self-respect and stop trying to bullshit me. Because the only person you’re deceiving is yourself. And from the looks of it the only thing you’ll succeed in doing is pissing off your mother.”

Cornelia Guest’s words usher Lucie toward introspection. Cornelia is one of the first characters in the novel to witness Lucie behaving out of character. She doesn’t ridicule or scold Lucie for doing so but instead encourages her to reflect on the real reasons for her actions and own her feelings.