Upgraded and Style and Content in "Beast"?

I don’t know how many times I had to read the first sentence of “The Beast in the Jungle.” It seemed unnecessarily complex, and also, upon second glance, almost meaningless: “What determined the speech that startled him in the course of their encounter scarcely matters, being probably but some words spoken by himself quite without intention– spoken as they lingered and slowly moved together after their renewal of acquaintance” (303). So, essentially, James is telling us that Marcher said something that doesn’t matter, for little reason, to a woman he already knows? Why begin a story with a sentence that disregards the main character’s words and motive as unimportant?

The contrast in style between “Daisy Miller” and “The Beast in the Jungle” therefore becomes clear right away– as it simultaneously disorients the reader. What’s perhaps even more frustrating is that “Beast” (at least through the first three chapters) seems at first to concern something far more trivial than “Daisy Miller.” The latter tells the tale of a mysterious young woman and her admirer flitting around Europe; there’s scandal and romance and death. The former is about a man who claims that he has a bad feeling that something’s going to happen, and the first half, at least, describes a friendship built singularly on waiting for that bad thing to occur. The convoluted writing builds up something that, to me, seems a little ridiculous. I really would like Marcher to stop feeling sorry for himself.

On the other hand, if you can get past the slight absurdity of Marcher’s issue, it does seem like “Beast” addresses something more profound than “Daisy Miller.” It tackles some unknown enemy, and a sense of the foreboding– things that could grow to some universal truth by the end of the story. Whereas Daisy Miller is a portrait of a innocent American girl not yet ready for high European society.

I suppose I’m curious about two things: whether the suddenly elevated style in “Beast” brings something substantial to the story that was lacking in “Daisy Miller”; and also if the supposed maturation of writing style mirrors a maturation in content. Having only read half of “The Beast in the Jungle,” it’s certainly too soon to tell, but I hope the answer to both is “yes.” It would be unfortunate if the growth accrued over the course of all or part of a career in writing brought nothing new to the table. Given that James is such a celebrated author, I’d guess I won’t be disappointed.