Eliot's minor characters are nuanced. No sooner has the marriage proposal been accepted than they divert us with a chorus of riffs on its unsuitability.
I keep thinking that what would have suited Dorothea so much better than marriage to Casaubon or anybody else would have been to go to a top-rate liberal arts university, anytime from, say 1975 to now. She was hungry to learn, she was eager to study. Philosophy! Literature! Ethics! She was born in the wrong time.
Sorry, I commented on Ch. 8 earlier .. I thought 6-8 included 8. But I see it's 8, 9, and 10 for next time.
I would love to hear what others think is the quality of the humor in Middlemarch. I like these quotes from Mrs. Cadwallader:
"I set a bad example - married a poor clergyman, and made myself a pitiable object among the De Bracys - obliged to get my coals by stratagem, and pray to heaven for my salad oil."
and
"... what can one do with a husband who attends so little to the decencies? I hide it as well as I can by abusing everybody myself."
It all just gets better and better. Mrs Cadwallader is a marvellous comic creation ‘Somebody put a drop under a microphone and it was all semicolons and parentheses ‘.. and we laugh with her, not at her. Sir James Chettam letting his whip fall, the perfect snapshot of the stiff upper lipped Englishman dealing with romantic setbacks. Best of all, we get the first hint (Spoiler Alert!) of Ladislaw, unnamed at this stage. We will get several more clues in the next chapters before we finally meet him in Rome.
I am so glad that Mona talked about humor today - re-reading today's chapters has only reminded me how delightfully funny they are.
The primary joy of Mrs. Cadwallader is in her language. She is uninhibited in her speech, and sure of her own and others' places in society. With Dorothea she has made an uncharacteristic mistake - that is, a specimen like Dorothea does not fit in Mrs. Cadwallader's ecological view of her pond - Eliot's metaphors of telescopes, microscopes and lenses - Mrs. Cadwallader seen under "a stronger lens" is shown to be feeding on the lives of others, though not in a harmful way, or with bad intent.
Lest we think Mrs. Cadwallader is being too harsh on Casaubon, Ch. 7 reassures us that she is not. He wants Dorothea to take care of him in his old age, he wonders if his own lack of romantic feeling is due to "some deficiency" not in himself but in Dorothea, but, gosh darn it, he can't think of any other woman that will fit the bill as well as she will, so why not ...
Mr. Brooke confirms his view that he "should have been travelling out of my brief to have hindered" the marriage.
We may conjecture that his seemingly mild-mannered low views of women are playing a role in his decision-making, or lack thereof. He can't "see" Dorothea any more than Mrs. Cadwallader can and resorts to his own forms of rationalization.
Freedom of choice has become an interesting option here.
In Ch 8 we see Sir James still wrestling with his discomfort - he has quickly managed to assuage his ego and now is acting out of concern for Dorothea. By the end of the chapter he is enjoying spending time with Dorothea as a person, not a love interest.
There is nothing Mr. Cadwallader says that can be argued with. His wife's laser-sharp comments about Casaubon, and Sir Jame's vague and slightly ridiculous ones, fall in relief to his God-like views.
"His conscience was large and easy, like the rest of him: it did only what it could do without any trouble."
So no one is actually going to go to "any trouble" - not any real trouble - to hinder Dorothea from following her wishes. "SIr James felt with some sadness that she was to have perfect liberty of misjudgment."
Are they all too polite? Too self-interested? Celia is sad, Sir James is sad, Mr. Brooke, it does seem, is sad .. should an impending engagement cause this much sadness? Even with the example of the Cadwallader's supposedly successful marriage? But what we know of that is that they get along and it was only the relations that were wrong, not the couple - here we have a couple who is wrong ..
The idea of Eliot breaking the engagement hadn't occured to me, and honestly fills me with joy. At least it would relieve the pervading sense of dread!
There might be a typo in the "Yet all this comedy..." paragraph. We're 50 pages in, eh? Not 150.
I love these descriptions of the so-called minor characters. They are sharply drawn and essential to the job of moving the story forward. Talking about themes though, what about the end paragraph of chapter VI? “... pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our hurts-not to hurt others.”
This seems to be a spotlights on it statement of some thing important in the book. As somebody who doesn’t fully know how it comes out, am I on to something?
I love the way you put that! "a set of carefully drawn characters and a momentum made up of temperament and event that can't be turned back" The word that stands out to me is 'momentum.' How she is moving through scenes so quickly and yet so thoroughly in a way, taking on objections but not letting anything slow down what is happening .. can't be turned back ...
Jul 4, 2023·edited Jul 4, 2023Liked by Ann Kjellberg
The opening of chapter six, with the casual trade of birds reminds me of Auden's poem Musée de Beaux Arts, about the painting, Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, where the quotidian continues while tragedy of Icarus goes unremarked. You have to squint to notice the feathers falling into the water. There’s a comical tint to these petty conversations, as in the everyday gestures in a Bruegel painting.
Eliot, in this novel steeped in religion, has to be thinking of the New Testament passages where Christ "overthrew the tables of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doves." And the somber echo of this in centurions throwing lots for Christ's robe as he died on the cross.
(The painting is commonly attributed to Bruegel, but there is evidence it was painted after his death.)
For some reason I didn’t receive by email yesterday’s post-- and it’s also not available in my Substack app-- anyone know how to correct? I’d be grateful. Thanks.
I keep thinking that what would have suited Dorothea so much better than marriage to Casaubon or anybody else would have been to go to a top-rate liberal arts university, anytime from, say 1975 to now. She was hungry to learn, she was eager to study. Philosophy! Literature! Ethics! She was born in the wrong time.
Sorry, I commented on Ch. 8 earlier .. I thought 6-8 included 8. But I see it's 8, 9, and 10 for next time.
I would love to hear what others think is the quality of the humor in Middlemarch. I like these quotes from Mrs. Cadwallader:
"I set a bad example - married a poor clergyman, and made myself a pitiable object among the De Bracys - obliged to get my coals by stratagem, and pray to heaven for my salad oil."
and
"... what can one do with a husband who attends so little to the decencies? I hide it as well as I can by abusing everybody myself."
It all just gets better and better. Mrs Cadwallader is a marvellous comic creation ‘Somebody put a drop under a microphone and it was all semicolons and parentheses ‘.. and we laugh with her, not at her. Sir James Chettam letting his whip fall, the perfect snapshot of the stiff upper lipped Englishman dealing with romantic setbacks. Best of all, we get the first hint (Spoiler Alert!) of Ladislaw, unnamed at this stage. We will get several more clues in the next chapters before we finally meet him in Rome.
I am so glad that Mona talked about humor today - re-reading today's chapters has only reminded me how delightfully funny they are.
The primary joy of Mrs. Cadwallader is in her language. She is uninhibited in her speech, and sure of her own and others' places in society. With Dorothea she has made an uncharacteristic mistake - that is, a specimen like Dorothea does not fit in Mrs. Cadwallader's ecological view of her pond - Eliot's metaphors of telescopes, microscopes and lenses - Mrs. Cadwallader seen under "a stronger lens" is shown to be feeding on the lives of others, though not in a harmful way, or with bad intent.
Lest we think Mrs. Cadwallader is being too harsh on Casaubon, Ch. 7 reassures us that she is not. He wants Dorothea to take care of him in his old age, he wonders if his own lack of romantic feeling is due to "some deficiency" not in himself but in Dorothea, but, gosh darn it, he can't think of any other woman that will fit the bill as well as she will, so why not ...
Mr. Brooke confirms his view that he "should have been travelling out of my brief to have hindered" the marriage.
We may conjecture that his seemingly mild-mannered low views of women are playing a role in his decision-making, or lack thereof. He can't "see" Dorothea any more than Mrs. Cadwallader can and resorts to his own forms of rationalization.
Freedom of choice has become an interesting option here.
In Ch 8 we see Sir James still wrestling with his discomfort - he has quickly managed to assuage his ego and now is acting out of concern for Dorothea. By the end of the chapter he is enjoying spending time with Dorothea as a person, not a love interest.
There is nothing Mr. Cadwallader says that can be argued with. His wife's laser-sharp comments about Casaubon, and Sir Jame's vague and slightly ridiculous ones, fall in relief to his God-like views.
"His conscience was large and easy, like the rest of him: it did only what it could do without any trouble."
So no one is actually going to go to "any trouble" - not any real trouble - to hinder Dorothea from following her wishes. "SIr James felt with some sadness that she was to have perfect liberty of misjudgment."
Are they all too polite? Too self-interested? Celia is sad, Sir James is sad, Mr. Brooke, it does seem, is sad .. should an impending engagement cause this much sadness? Even with the example of the Cadwallader's supposedly successful marriage? But what we know of that is that they get along and it was only the relations that were wrong, not the couple - here we have a couple who is wrong ..
The idea of Eliot breaking the engagement hadn't occured to me, and honestly fills me with joy. At least it would relieve the pervading sense of dread!
There might be a typo in the "Yet all this comedy..." paragraph. We're 50 pages in, eh? Not 150.
I love these descriptions of the so-called minor characters. They are sharply drawn and essential to the job of moving the story forward. Talking about themes though, what about the end paragraph of chapter VI? “... pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our hurts-not to hurt others.”
This seems to be a spotlights on it statement of some thing important in the book. As somebody who doesn’t fully know how it comes out, am I on to something?
I love the way you put that! "a set of carefully drawn characters and a momentum made up of temperament and event that can't be turned back" The word that stands out to me is 'momentum.' How she is moving through scenes so quickly and yet so thoroughly in a way, taking on objections but not letting anything slow down what is happening .. can't be turned back ...
The opening of chapter six, with the casual trade of birds reminds me of Auden's poem Musée de Beaux Arts, about the painting, Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, where the quotidian continues while tragedy of Icarus goes unremarked. You have to squint to notice the feathers falling into the water. There’s a comical tint to these petty conversations, as in the everyday gestures in a Bruegel painting.
Eliot, in this novel steeped in religion, has to be thinking of the New Testament passages where Christ "overthrew the tables of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doves." And the somber echo of this in centurions throwing lots for Christ's robe as he died on the cross.
(The painting is commonly attributed to Bruegel, but there is evidence it was painted after his death.)
Nooooo don’t DO it! Don’t marry Casaubon. Can’t we get another result.
For some reason I didn’t receive by email yesterday’s post-- and it’s also not available in my Substack app-- anyone know how to correct? I’d be grateful. Thanks.