Love and Marriage

As the characters and crises of Middlemarch crystallize, so too does the issue of unfortunate matches. Initially assured in her choice of Mr. Casaubon, after her somber honeymoon Dorothea begins to think more critically of her speedy match. Pondering on the portrait of her husband’s late aunt Julia, Mrs. Casaubon feels “a new companionship” with the deceased as she considers just how much the two women may have had in common (261). The reality of her fate starts to become clear to Dorothea and rather than experiencing the intellectual liberation she had hoped for, she suffers the oppression of mismatched goals and personalities between two people who must forge a life together regardless. Poor Mr. Casaubon appears to suffer just as greatly as his emotional anguish threatens his physical wellbeing as well as his marriage.

While Dorothea hardly had a moment’s pause in her rushed match, Rosamond Vincy appears to have played the long con with Dr. Lydgate. Sadly for her, she has not truly considered whether or not her engagement is well-suited and appears unable to “distinguish flirtation from love, either in herself or in another” (254). Although her reasons for desiring to marry her intended vary greatly from those of Dorothea, both young women suffer from an immature understanding of the life of matrimony. It remains unimportant to Rosamond that Dr. Lydgate had previously expressed the desire to remain single for some time, and one wonders if her disregard for his feelings will continue to play out in their future relationship. Whether or not her folly will lead to misery remains to be unseen, as Chapter 3 leaves the matter at the couple’s engagement.

Mary Garth’s reservations over Fred Vincy may be the most tempered reaction to romance we’ve seen of the three eligible bachelorettes of the novel. As new relationships echo the faults of those past, Mary Garth attempts to avoid the mistakes of both generations as she denies her obvious feelings for her incorrigible suitor. Although Mary may have fooled herself and Fred as to her affections for him, her father remains unconvinced as he tries warn her by saying “[y]oung folks may get fond of each other before they know what life is, and they may think it all a holiday if they can only get together…but a father trembles for his daughter” (245). Mr. Garth’s display of concern also appears to be the most measured of the guardians, but whether or not his words will be heeded remains unseen.

As the three relationships unfold in their different ways, the reminder of “unfortunate matches” continues to echo in the mouths of older residents of Middlemarch. One has to wonder if the constant remonstrations have not persuaded these young suitors and eligible ladies to act in defiance of their elders. Perhaps Middlemarch’s Cupid truly is blind, or the town suffers from a sort of marital curse, or maybe this is just how love often plays out. The sum of these ill-fated matches has yet to be seen, and it is likely that an unfortunate match may be as much a creation of others as it is the participants. Without the guidance and approval of those closest to us, even the best suited couple can encounter difficulties, and it seems that the opinions of others can greatly influence the success that couples find together.

Emily Fleischhauer