Our first introduction to Dorothea, our young heroine given to spiritual ambition, begins with a description of her beauty, a kind of beauty thrown into relief by plain dress.
I love that line about the parcel-tying forebears, but it's not precisely the voice of the narrator, of "Eliot," but rather one of the many instances when she ventriloquizes the common prejudices of the world she's writing about; like the one a few pages later when we read that "Sane people did what their neighbors did." Sometimes I think of it as the voice of Mrs Cadwallader...
Parenthetically--Sir James is not their uncle, but rather the suitor. Their uncle is plain Mr Brooke, I can't remember if he's ever given a first name.
More parenthetically--I was teaching the novel this fall when the New Yorker article on the death of the English major came out, with its line about Middlemarch being too hard and too long for today's students. Mine all knew about the article, and they uniformly said that yes , it's hard, but they had a real sense of achievement in the reading.
I love how the intimacy, shame, jealousy and competition between the two sisters is dramatized through the jewels in the “casket.” GE leverages the pearl cross to express Dodo’s feelings of superiority, but Celia jabs back with the comment about Dodo’s neck. I love the unexpected reversal of Dodo coveting and claiming the emeralds for herself and how Celia thinks they might suit her better and tries to sell Dodo on the agates. It seems that Dodo has the upper hand but then it is Celia who “pardons” Dodo at the end of the chapter. Also, the inheritance and division of the mother’s jewels provides a window into how each sister holds the loss from years past. Beautiful.
"Riding was an indulgence which she allowed herself in spite of conscientious qualms; she felt that she enjoyed it in a pagan sensuous way, and always looked forward to renouncing it." So much of Dorothea can be seen here, and so much of the novel's underrated comedy. I find "Middlemarch" *funnier* each time I read it.
I am thrilled for this reading journey! I fell in love with Virginia Woolf through reading To The Lighthouse guided by Mona’s insightful, witty, and down to earth commentary and along with other passionate readers, as part of an A Public Space project.
For years, Middlemarch has loomed cumbersome, daunting on my Should reading list. I tried it on my own several times, losing any real desire to read further just a few pages in. I can not remember what might have been going on in my life during these prior failed attempts, but I do expect the hyper serious Prelude might have played a role in me not wanting to read on. I laughed reading Mona’s breath of fresh air advice to just skip the Prelude!
Years ago I heard Margaret Atwood, at a reading in Albany, NY, talk about the polarized reactions of different generations of women to Middlemarch: young women reading it thought, oh no, that is not truth, or at least that won’t happen to me at all, and older women thinking, oh, yep, this speaks truth to their experience, nodding their heads.
Thank you Mona and Ann for getting me reading Middlemarch... finally. I planned to, obediently, just read Chapter One and have now read ahead a few chapters with pleasure.
Although the recommendation was to skip the Prelude, in fact it is of significance in introducing Dorothea Brooke, who aspires, like Saint Theresa, to spiritual asceticism and service, but whose gender will always thwart her aspirations. Eliot's choice of name "Dorothea" is also important -- gift of God. Chapter One reveals that Dorothea Brooke/Miss Brooke is indeed a mixed blessing, a hybrid. She is a plain beauty, a moneyed orphan, a would-be social activist who takes delight in emeralds, skilled in architecture and village planning, expert at riding, etc. In other words, a most modern woman. Will she be able to brook the obstacles in this marriage plot? The Prelude, as in music, sets the tone and prepares us for the central theme of the novel: a heroine yearning for goodness and an unbounded larger, spiritually fulfilled life -- yet trapped by the mundane realities of gender and domesticity. However, Eliot's genius crafts for Dorothea Brooke a different fate than Flaubert's Mme Bovary (1856).
I just finished reading Commitment and I was struck, as I also finished reading Mona's commentary on the first chapter of Middlemarch, not only her highlighting of Eliot's focus on physical appearance, which I'd always paid attention to - but what I hadn't thought enough about, which is Dorothea's passion for drawing and her vision of herself as an architect. Not to belabor comparisons, but two of the characters in Commitment also "draw" and one draws up plans, like Dorothea, to "house" marginalized (as we say now) populations. Again, not to exaggerate similarities - but I was interested in the like sensibilities. Anyway, this is such an engaging and inspiring project - thanks to Mona and to Ann Kjellberg.
Another cool thing about the first chapter is the oblique way Eliot intimates that we are in a different time (Mr. Peel on the Catholic Question=Catholic Reform bill of 1829) without quite burdening us with the cumbersome conventions of the historical novel. i'd be interested in knowing why she chose to set the novel forty years or so back.
Written pre-Freud, the intrapsychic influences in Middlemarch are left for the contemporary reader to ponder. The realism of the experiential learning of these two young women in the context of their confusing and bewildering lives is a compelling dynamic. Their struggle to come to terms with decision making without the benefit of a constant female mentor is a theme I often ponder each time I read this book.
I love a story with sisters! Celia, the younger,--who has always felt yoked and beholden to her older sister's opinion (but also in awe)--has private thoughts about Dodo. These two love one another, but are already clearly at odds. The scene with the jewelry reveals so much about their (shaky) world views. It seems the first chapter is setting us up to see the different trajectories of these two women vis a vis marriage. And now with two men coming to visit--well, which sister for which man?
I love your thoughts on this opening. The opening of the box reminds me of Pandora, of course, and the courtship box choice in Merchant of Venice, where the correct casket is made of lead.
Wikipedia on Emerald myth: "The virtue of the Emerald is to counteract poison. They say that if a venomous animal should look at it, it will become blinded. The gem also acts as a preservative against epilepsy; it cures leprosy, strengthens sight and memory, checks copulation, during which act it will break, if worn at the time on the finger.
Oh that's interesting! I feel exasperated or something like it with Dorothea! Whereas Newland Archer you know exactly where he's from, what he has to overcome ..It's a delicious tension in Age of Innocence, as I recall not having read it in a while! Dorothea is coming into view as not living in the world exactly ... inexperienced, confused, obstinate, her head in the clouds of her religion ... she can't see what's in front of her. It is interesting how Eliot and Wharton both use society as part of their structures ..
I am so happy that my friend Elizabeth invited me to join this Summer Reading Group! I just finished reading Chapter 7 and this morning is my first opportunity to read Mona’s notes and our comments. Reading through the comments and thinking again about Chapter 2 and our introduction to Dorothea, I am struck by something. I have done quite a bit of reading about Giftedness and the ways in which gifted individuals are different from others, not better, just different. The gifted are often described by others as being too intense, extreme in their views, interests and actions. Seeing what others do not see, completely missing things that are obvious to others. This sounds like Dorothea. Often the gifted are misunderstood. Will Dorothea be understood? I can’t wait to find out!
Others have commented on how sad the social constraints that were put on these young girls are. Yes, indeed. These societal constraints are still present today. I myself was encouraged to pursue The Arts over Mathematics in 1980’s. I grew up in a very Edwardian household replete with arcane dos and don’ts. My mother, to this day is happiest when she can let someone else, “Daddy”, manage everything for her. I find it fascinating how these British mores have been present in my life and I applaud the young people who today are so bravely standing up to them and refusing to be constrained by them.
This is such a wonderful conversation! I'm so enjoying reading through everyone's notes here. Throwing in a few very lightweight thoughts:
-I appreciated Mona's note on my favorite line from chapter one: "The really delightful marriage must be that where your husband was a sort of father, and could teach you even Hebrew, if you wished it." I found this quite funny on a first read and then devastatingly sad on the second.
-Going into my first chapter of Middlemarch, I'd just finished HBO's Succession, another story in which "intimacy, shame, jealousy and competition" between siblings is very much in the foreground. I've been thinking a lot recently about the similarities and differences between great TV and great novels^. And I'll say -- launching into the world of Middlemarch really took the sting out of coming to the end of Jesse Armstrong's great TV show. As effective as Succession was as a drama, there's something really exciting about inhabiting the world of a novel alongside a great narrator (and hopefully with a group of friends) that I don't think TV can replicate.
I love that line about the parcel-tying forebears, but it's not precisely the voice of the narrator, of "Eliot," but rather one of the many instances when she ventriloquizes the common prejudices of the world she's writing about; like the one a few pages later when we read that "Sane people did what their neighbors did." Sometimes I think of it as the voice of Mrs Cadwallader...
Parenthetically--Sir James is not their uncle, but rather the suitor. Their uncle is plain Mr Brooke, I can't remember if he's ever given a first name.
More parenthetically--I was teaching the novel this fall when the New Yorker article on the death of the English major came out, with its line about Middlemarch being too hard and too long for today's students. Mine all knew about the article, and they uniformly said that yes , it's hard, but they had a real sense of achievement in the reading.
I love how the intimacy, shame, jealousy and competition between the two sisters is dramatized through the jewels in the “casket.” GE leverages the pearl cross to express Dodo’s feelings of superiority, but Celia jabs back with the comment about Dodo’s neck. I love the unexpected reversal of Dodo coveting and claiming the emeralds for herself and how Celia thinks they might suit her better and tries to sell Dodo on the agates. It seems that Dodo has the upper hand but then it is Celia who “pardons” Dodo at the end of the chapter. Also, the inheritance and division of the mother’s jewels provides a window into how each sister holds the loss from years past. Beautiful.
"Riding was an indulgence which she allowed herself in spite of conscientious qualms; she felt that she enjoyed it in a pagan sensuous way, and always looked forward to renouncing it." So much of Dorothea can be seen here, and so much of the novel's underrated comedy. I find "Middlemarch" *funnier* each time I read it.
I am thrilled for this reading journey! I fell in love with Virginia Woolf through reading To The Lighthouse guided by Mona’s insightful, witty, and down to earth commentary and along with other passionate readers, as part of an A Public Space project.
For years, Middlemarch has loomed cumbersome, daunting on my Should reading list. I tried it on my own several times, losing any real desire to read further just a few pages in. I can not remember what might have been going on in my life during these prior failed attempts, but I do expect the hyper serious Prelude might have played a role in me not wanting to read on. I laughed reading Mona’s breath of fresh air advice to just skip the Prelude!
Years ago I heard Margaret Atwood, at a reading in Albany, NY, talk about the polarized reactions of different generations of women to Middlemarch: young women reading it thought, oh no, that is not truth, or at least that won’t happen to me at all, and older women thinking, oh, yep, this speaks truth to their experience, nodding their heads.
Thank you Mona and Ann for getting me reading Middlemarch... finally. I planned to, obediently, just read Chapter One and have now read ahead a few chapters with pleasure.
Although the recommendation was to skip the Prelude, in fact it is of significance in introducing Dorothea Brooke, who aspires, like Saint Theresa, to spiritual asceticism and service, but whose gender will always thwart her aspirations. Eliot's choice of name "Dorothea" is also important -- gift of God. Chapter One reveals that Dorothea Brooke/Miss Brooke is indeed a mixed blessing, a hybrid. She is a plain beauty, a moneyed orphan, a would-be social activist who takes delight in emeralds, skilled in architecture and village planning, expert at riding, etc. In other words, a most modern woman. Will she be able to brook the obstacles in this marriage plot? The Prelude, as in music, sets the tone and prepares us for the central theme of the novel: a heroine yearning for goodness and an unbounded larger, spiritually fulfilled life -- yet trapped by the mundane realities of gender and domesticity. However, Eliot's genius crafts for Dorothea Brooke a different fate than Flaubert's Mme Bovary (1856).
I just finished reading Commitment and I was struck, as I also finished reading Mona's commentary on the first chapter of Middlemarch, not only her highlighting of Eliot's focus on physical appearance, which I'd always paid attention to - but what I hadn't thought enough about, which is Dorothea's passion for drawing and her vision of herself as an architect. Not to belabor comparisons, but two of the characters in Commitment also "draw" and one draws up plans, like Dorothea, to "house" marginalized (as we say now) populations. Again, not to exaggerate similarities - but I was interested in the like sensibilities. Anyway, this is such an engaging and inspiring project - thanks to Mona and to Ann Kjellberg.
Another cool thing about the first chapter is the oblique way Eliot intimates that we are in a different time (Mr. Peel on the Catholic Question=Catholic Reform bill of 1829) without quite burdening us with the cumbersome conventions of the historical novel. i'd be interested in knowing why she chose to set the novel forty years or so back.
Written pre-Freud, the intrapsychic influences in Middlemarch are left for the contemporary reader to ponder. The realism of the experiential learning of these two young women in the context of their confusing and bewildering lives is a compelling dynamic. Their struggle to come to terms with decision making without the benefit of a constant female mentor is a theme I often ponder each time I read this book.
I love a story with sisters! Celia, the younger,--who has always felt yoked and beholden to her older sister's opinion (but also in awe)--has private thoughts about Dodo. These two love one another, but are already clearly at odds. The scene with the jewelry reveals so much about their (shaky) world views. It seems the first chapter is setting us up to see the different trajectories of these two women vis a vis marriage. And now with two men coming to visit--well, which sister for which man?
I am having trouble following some of these comments which reference other authors and other books; can we stay a bit more on topic with Middlemarch?
I love your thoughts on this opening. The opening of the box reminds me of Pandora, of course, and the courtship box choice in Merchant of Venice, where the correct casket is made of lead.
Wikipedia on Emerald myth: "The virtue of the Emerald is to counteract poison. They say that if a venomous animal should look at it, it will become blinded. The gem also acts as a preservative against epilepsy; it cures leprosy, strengthens sight and memory, checks copulation, during which act it will break, if worn at the time on the finger.
Oh that's interesting! I feel exasperated or something like it with Dorothea! Whereas Newland Archer you know exactly where he's from, what he has to overcome ..It's a delicious tension in Age of Innocence, as I recall not having read it in a while! Dorothea is coming into view as not living in the world exactly ... inexperienced, confused, obstinate, her head in the clouds of her religion ... she can't see what's in front of her. It is interesting how Eliot and Wharton both use society as part of their structures ..
I am so happy that my friend Elizabeth invited me to join this Summer Reading Group! I just finished reading Chapter 7 and this morning is my first opportunity to read Mona’s notes and our comments. Reading through the comments and thinking again about Chapter 2 and our introduction to Dorothea, I am struck by something. I have done quite a bit of reading about Giftedness and the ways in which gifted individuals are different from others, not better, just different. The gifted are often described by others as being too intense, extreme in their views, interests and actions. Seeing what others do not see, completely missing things that are obvious to others. This sounds like Dorothea. Often the gifted are misunderstood. Will Dorothea be understood? I can’t wait to find out!
Others have commented on how sad the social constraints that were put on these young girls are. Yes, indeed. These societal constraints are still present today. I myself was encouraged to pursue The Arts over Mathematics in 1980’s. I grew up in a very Edwardian household replete with arcane dos and don’ts. My mother, to this day is happiest when she can let someone else, “Daddy”, manage everything for her. I find it fascinating how these British mores have been present in my life and I applaud the young people who today are so bravely standing up to them and refusing to be constrained by them.
Necessary Tolstoy reads in addition to AK and W&P: The Cossacks, Family Happiness, and Hadji Murat. 😊
Happy to accommodate. I’d like to ask your advice about something too. Can we do it via email?
This is such a wonderful conversation! I'm so enjoying reading through everyone's notes here. Throwing in a few very lightweight thoughts:
-I appreciated Mona's note on my favorite line from chapter one: "The really delightful marriage must be that where your husband was a sort of father, and could teach you even Hebrew, if you wished it." I found this quite funny on a first read and then devastatingly sad on the second.
-Going into my first chapter of Middlemarch, I'd just finished HBO's Succession, another story in which "intimacy, shame, jealousy and competition" between siblings is very much in the foreground. I've been thinking a lot recently about the similarities and differences between great TV and great novels^. And I'll say -- launching into the world of Middlemarch really took the sting out of coming to the end of Jesse Armstrong's great TV show. As effective as Succession was as a drama, there's something really exciting about inhabiting the world of a novel alongside a great narrator (and hopefully with a group of friends) that I don't think TV can replicate.
^https://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/02/books/review/are-the-new-golden-age-tv-shows-the-new-novels.html#:~:text=Television%20is%20not%20the%20new,in%20mind%20the%20novel's%20weirdness.