One is The Loneliest Number

Everything that is new is sometimes scary. People also fear what they do not know. Instead of trying to understand everything that a person may be doing we just fear it. People would also freak out and say it is the devil’s work or accuse a woman of being a witch and then she would usually end up drowning or being burned to the stake, even if her remedies worked better than any man’s. Other times we can treasure what is new, but it can also bring us sorrow or jealousy.

That is why everyone was criticizing Mr. Lydgate. They were scared that Lydgate was a better doctor than the other doctors before him. He was better at curing everyone than the current doctors that they had in Middlemarch and he didn’t use any medicine unless he absolutely had to administer some. He could tell the difference between a tumor and a cramp the others could not see the difference. Lydgate knew what he was doing and had become a doctor to help people instead of trying to make money off of the profession. Lydgate had become very famous and a well-loved doctor.

After Mr. Casaubon had died Dorothea had gone into a state of depression. She was a little bit sad, but she was also now all alone in a huge house without a husband. Celia was extremely happy, because she had a baby. Celia and her husband Sir Chettam thought Dorothea might have been happier with them and the baby and that she could find some companionship with her sister and new nephew. Casaubon had made sure that if there was ever anything more than friendship between Ladislaw and Dorothea it would not grow once he died. He had put in his will that if Dorothea ever married Ladislaw he would disinherit Dorothea and she would loose her entire inheritance.

Dorothea would then be left with nothing. Dorothea had never been pregnant. She had been left utterly alone, no husband, no baby, and no possibility of a new life with Ladislaw. She also had not been allowed to look at the will. Everyone had been telling her to relax and just to grieve and let her pain heal on it’s own time. I don’t think Dorothea was that upset over the death of her husband. When their marriage was near the end she seemed to be in a bad mood and was more of a nurse than a wife to Mr. Casaubon. She was not able to find the manuscripts for the book Mr. Casaubon had been writing she had promised him she would publish it for him if anything happened to him before he finished it.

Fred has lost all his money and to avoid telling his father what happens decides to join the church, but it still hesitant since Mary said she would never marry him if he did join the church. Fred asks Mr. Farebrother if he will ask Mary that even though he is joining the church if she will marry him. Mary is still adamant in not marrying Fred after joining the church. There is no other way for Fed to get back the money, but he can only see going into the church as his only option. He doesn’t do so right away since he still wants to marry Mary.

 

Julia Rogan

Til Debt Do We Part

You know how people will have slumps. Maybe their grades are dropping, because the schoolwork is overwhelming. They might start drinking, because they just lost a family member or the person they though they would be with forever. They might have lost their job due to a bad economy and can’t find another one. They were evicted from their apartment, because they failed to pay rent.

Rosamond and Lydgate are in a financial slump. Lydgate was so in love with Rosamond he bought her jewels and anything else she wanted once they were married. They were the picture perfect couple and the only ones who seemed like they were happy.

Then, Lydgate realizes they are broke and doesn’t want to tell Rosamond. Everything that they have is in the possession of the creditors since Lydgate hasn’t paid it off. He refuses to tell Rosamond, because she is pregnant and wants to solve the problem himself since he is the man. Lydgate also starts controlling Rosamond after she becomes pregnant. He tells her she can’t ride a horse. Rosamond doesn’t listen to Lydgate. She goes out riding one day gets thrown off of her horse and looses the baby. After that Lydgate seems to just want to make her feel worse and says, “hey since you lost the baby and are no longer under the stress of pregnancy we are also broke.” Ladislaw has also been living n their rug and Lydgate is always at work so Rosamond might be finding a friendly companionship with Lydgate who is always around.

After Rosamond finds out they are broke she gives him the jewels to sell to make money to pay off the creditors. Lydgate refuses to sell the gifts he gave to Rosamond even though they are in debt. Lydgate will also not allow Rosamond to ask her family for money so Rosamond and Freddy both have money problems. Rosamond isn’t afraid to tell her father, but he won’t give them any money.

Dorothea left her sister and Mr. Chettam’s house probably feeling claustrophobic and not really wanting to intrude. Chettam also seems to still have a thing for Dorothea. When he saw her without her cap he just stared at her. Chettam also constantly says that he cannot stand Ladislaw and that he should stay away form Dorothea. When he hears that Ladislaw is leaving he is also happy about that. He also seems to be trying to get everyone who wants Dorothea to get married to back off.

Mr. Garth is also trying to help Fred out of his financial slump. Freddy knows that he will probably have to go into the church, even though he really doesn’t want to. Mr. Garth decides to help Freddy learn how to be a land agent and work for him. Fred actually seems to like the work and is actually learning more about what he should do. His father cuts him off financially though. The reason being Freddy did not do what hi father wanted him to do. Still Freddy seems to like the idea of being independent.

Julia Rogan

Mirror Images

I am curious by the title of Book 6…’The Widow and the Wife’. Is George Eliot referring to one person, or two? Spiteful Mr. Casaubon, in a final attempt to restrict his wife’s future, drew attention to the possibility of Dorothea as Will Ladislaw’s wife. Both characters are forced to deal with this news, leading to more conflict in Middlemarch.

 

Chapter 54’s heading (La Via Nuova) guilelessly captured Dorothea ‘s perceived saintly qualities, at least in the eyes of a certain beholder. Lest the reader become too enamoured by this flawless depiction, however, the author followed immediately with a humorous account of why Dorothea could not bear to be around her sister and the infant Bouddha (p535) any longer… even D. admits to boredom. The truth of doting mothers who insist on being the center of attention made me chuckle in appreciation!

 

The new widow returned to Lowick Manor from her sister’s home. Fair-minded by nature, Dorothea believed that she ‘owed’ money to Mr. Ladislaw, based on her husband’s financial support in the past, and Will’s eagerness to spend it. The codicil opened her mind to another possibility. Unwittingly, Mr. C. mistrusted her faithfulness, causing Dorothea to imagine her friend as something more… now her soul thirsted to see him (p 539). Their encounters made them aware of a shared sentiment, which was new in Dorothea, but maturing in Will. As he shifts from a selfish playboy, to a serious, even noble, lover (from a distance), he refuses to beg for money, and decides to leave the woman he idolizes. But, first, Will longs for some unmistakable proof that she loves him (p 545). Will’s pride is dependent on such confirmation, in order to sustain and launch him towards a political career, away from Middlemarch. But does Will love Dorothea enough to admit his own feelings? Is he willing to be as vulnerable as he hopes she will be for him? Meanwhile, Dorothea misinterprets his immanent departure, concluding that only a friendship has been terminated. She did not know then that it was Love who had come to her briefly… (p 548).

 

A shocking revelation to Will and to the reader occurs at an unpleasant meeting with Bulstrode. Will is offered restitution for his mother’s stolen inheritance; the unchallenged, arrogant banker, is insulted when Will refuses: You shall keep your ill-gotten money (p 624). At this point, I sensed a profound transformation in the core of Will’s character…standing up to the most powerful man in town, Will departed with fresh dignity and a secret hope (p 627) to make something of himself. His subsequent conversation with Dorothea, fraught with awkwardness as both tried to speak the truth, ended disappointingly in a brusque farewell. The love they felt for each other, remained unspoken.

 

So, when Book 6 ends, ‘the widow’ has not become ‘the wife’. Perhaps Rosamund is ‘the wife’, particularly in her contrasting role to our protagonist. Lydgate has impetuously married the lovely, but shallow Rosamund, whose goal is material possessions and rising social class. Her doctor husband, however, is preoccupied with medical reform, and he has no money. Each lived in a world of which the other knew nothing. (p 165) Deterioration of their relationship is inevitable…and the irony is that Dorothea as a wife fulfills what Lydgate naively expected from Rosamund: (an) accomplished creature who venerated his high musings… would never interfere with them; …would create order in the home and accounts with still magic…marriage would not be an obstruction but a furtherance. (p 352) Dorothea’s desire to please, to learn and to make the world a better place, obstructed her decision to marry Mr C., just as Rosamund’s narcissistic mindset manipulated Lydgate to enter into marriage. Both women‘s circumstances make the reader uneasy… thus sustaining our attention.

Tudy Hill

The Dead Hand

Admittedly, I adore the titles of each of the books and when “The Dead Hand” came up, I was secretly thrilled and terrified at what I would encounter.  This section did not disappoint me in thrills and terror.

For the thrills – I love that we are getting more information on Fred and Mary.  Fred is a train wreck I can’t help wanting to gawk to see what will happen next.  There is something about his character that I find endearing; maybe his foolishness or his general clueless boy attributes.  He is thoughtless in so many ways and while this section of Middlemarch is really about Dorthea and Edward, the unusual placement of Mary and Fred’s story brings me to anticipate what dead hand will embrace them in chapters to come.  He’s outed to the Vicar his love, who unfortunately also is infatuated with Mary, and places his trust in Farebrother without knowing the pain that he has caused Farebrother.  Fred is one of those that is impetuous with his decisions and does not look too far into the future to see the ramifications.  But creating the thrill of where their relationship may go, I am enjoying the fact that Fred is the perfect foil for Mary.  He is unthinking and rash and this gives him, in my opinion, to be a boy playing in the mud.  Where Mary is just too goody-goody and she needs him to bring levity to her character, I imagine her as a child being prissy but obedient.

The fleshing out of Mr. Bulstrode’s character is a refreshing change and a wonderful foreshadow for the remainder of the novel.  It was a bit of a shock to find Bulstrode’s past slowing being eked out in bits.  His character always carried an undercurrent of “smarmy” but nothing of the magnitude that is found out about his previous marriage or how he came to get his money.  With the tidbit of information from Mr. Raffles and Bulstrode’s desire to get him as far away from Middlemarch as possible only alludes to how bad a person Bulstrode actually is.  I also now want to find or make a Middlemarch family tree because the relationships are starting to get a little convoluted.

Now for the terror – not surprised about the clause in Mr. C’s will, his jealousy was so out of control that I would be more surprised if there wasn’t anything about Will mentioned.  It is not the bit of information about Dorthea’s remarriage that is terror, but what was terrifying is that everyone else knew about it but her.  Even Mrs. Cadwallader knows of the situation of Mr. C’s will and she is quite the busy-body so it would be in good faith to assume that she discussed it with others as well.

What is sad and terrifying is when Dorthea searches her husband’s desk she does not find anything that shows her that he loved her.  I think this is the true terror that happens Middlemarch – the lack of not finding the proof of love when one looks for it.  Dorthea married a man that she placed upon a pedestal, pinning ideas and unrealistic dreams of what her life would be like without even discussing any of it with him.  Because she did this, she missed so many cues about how he was cold and not a person to show a lot of affection.  In the same respect, she also expected to be shown love and adoration; he was just tired of being alone and she would be a great secretary and one of the few women that did not aggravate him. In his own way, I think Casaubon did love Dorthea in a way that he could not show her.  She is very much like his work – allusive, unavailable to the average man, and a mystery – maybe Dorthea was the key to Casuabon, and instead of looking for the mythologies that he studied about, she was the key to his mythology.  Dorthea was definitely his weakness, especially when we find out the lengths he goes to when spurred on by his jealousy.  The defeat she felt on page 494 when she searches his desk for proof that he loved her was heartbreaking.  Although, Dorthea may overlook Mr. C’s motivations behind his weird will.  She is looking for proof of his love and in a way, he leaves her with it written in his will about her remarriage.  So sad in general that these two actually really loved each other, but neither of them could talk to each other.  I wonder if he was too smart that it made his dumb and she blind.

On a lighter note of terror, the strange way Celia dotes on her child is rather creepy.  It’s not as though she is a mother looking at her child doing all the things that most parents do – believe that their child is the brightest and best just because he blinked – but almost that she regards him more like a doll or a puppy.

 

Vickie Culpepper

Two Writers

In her book, My Life at Middlemarch, author Rebecca Mead manages to capture the many unarticulated feelings impressed upon me when I read George Eliot’s Middlemarch. Mead’s book illuminates the life of George Eliot and how she came to write her epic piece of work, including personal insights from the Mead’s own life and impressions of the novel in a beautiful convergence of past and present.

Rebecca Mead focuses on the idea that while certain books have to power to change us as readers, these books also grow with us as we mature. Just like you can never step in the same river twice, Mead asserts that you can never read the same story twice; both the reader and the text are transformed by time and the events that have passed with it. While I felt like Mead spent a great deal of time discussing the details of Eliot’s life, it gave me a different perspective into the lives of the characters of Middlemarch. I could see a little bit of Eliot in all of the residents of that little imaginary town as well as those who were dear to her, after spending most of the novel seeking out incarnations of myself and those I know as the various townspeople.

One focus of the book that I found slightly disconcerting was the focus on Eliot’s physical appearance. I do not think that Mead was wrong for including this information, but this focus felt heavy-handed at times. In spite of my reservations, I admit that, especially for women, one’s physical appearance affects the outcome of one’s life in small or large ways. It is inescapable; you cannot run away from your own face. Perhaps my discomfort came from the fact that while I do not style myself as a “great beauty”, I do not feel burdened by a particularly homely appearance. I did wonder if Mary Garth was made to be exceptionally plain in tribute to her creator, and I felt gratified when Mead all but confirmed the connection between the two.

Perhaps my favorite discovery in reading My Life in Middlemarch was Eliot’s departure from organized religion. I was impressed with the presentation of morality in Middlemarch, and took pleasure in learning that such a tone and outlook was provided by someone who could be considered a secular humanist. As someone who has departed from her own branch of faith but not her morals, I felt at home with Eliot’s brand of ethics.

As a whole, Rebecca Mead’s companion book to Middlemarch felt like a perfect wrap-up to Eliot’s novel. While certain aspects felt repetitive or self-gratifying, the work expanded my understanding and my appreciation for Middlemarch. I cannot help but look forward to my second reading of the novel, wondering whether book will change me, and how it will change with me throughout the years.

Emily Fleischhauer

 

Maybe Consider Moving…

One of the problems with reading good literature comes when your romanticized version of the past is blown to smithereens. I had a lot of issues with Book 3. The actual reading was easy and the story line was super compelling, but the flaws within every character were reveled and deepened, causing my idyllic notion of what it meant to live in this time period to all but vanish.

We see Fred pawn off his debt on his good friend,  feeling guilty not because he is essentially robbing the Garth family of a sum that is going to cripple the future prospects of their young son, but because he is going to lose the regard of Mary. The family that comes in to watch as Mr. Featherstone dies, not because of any familial loyalty, but because they want to pick clean the carcass of his estate as soon as he stops breathing. No one is as I would expect, no one is the prototypical ‘good guy’ who is willing to do a good thing for the sake of doing a good deed.

No one, that is except the people who are not well off. The Garths are good people, though they have never been and will never be wealthy. Mr. Garth is charitable to a fault, thinking nothing of signing a debt away for a friend. He literally gambles his family’s security and future because of his belief that Fred is a good person who will not default. The harsh truth is that Mr. Garth is easily taken advantage of because of this nature. Fred asks Mr. Garth for his signature because Mr. Garth “was the poorest and kindest” because his pride couldn’t allow himself to be “looked down upon as wanting funds for small debts”.  Fred is in the wrong and so is Mr. Garth.

The one person who acts morally and in a fashion befitting the antiquated ideals of femininity is Mary Garth. And, truth be told, I found her as annoying as the others. She truly is the ideal daughter—loyal, giving, and hardworking. She makes her own living looking after Mr. Featherstone, though he is remarkably rude to her in front of others. She even saves her money, a sign of responsibility. However, she gives it all up to her father when he comes looking for help to cover Fred’s debt. Even when Mr. Featherstone smears her father by (correctly) guessing that he had come for Mary’s earnings, Mary doesn’t correct him, doesn’t tell him that the debt is Fred’s.

When Mr. Featherstone is dying and offers her money to destroy his second will, Mary refuses. Her honor does not allow her to take money freely offered, money that no one would know was missing, money that would help her family recover from the havoc that Fred created. She leaves the money, refuses to abandon her morals for anyone. Aside from ignoring this request, she does everything she can to comfort the man, even seeing to it that he does not die alone. She is the only characters that does not have a dark side.

Her characterization stands in direct contrast to all the well-off people in Middlemarch. Rosemond and Dorothea rush hastily into marriage without a fully formed notion of what it means to be married; Mary refuses Fred because he has “no manly independence”.  Mary provides herself a living while Fred lives on the “chance that others will provide for him”. Mary takes care of Mr. Featherstone in the end, though he was a scrooge in life. It was Mary’s moral superiority in every lauded personality trait that causes everyone else to look worse. Frankly, Mary seems too good for the lot of them, and should, perhaps, consider moving.

– Valerie Harrison