Monday, October 21, 2013

Recent Criticism of Middlemarch

Summary

I read two very different critical essays on Middlemarch, Matthew Rich’s thoughts with the longwinded title, “’Not a Church, but an Individual Who is His or Her Own Church’: Religion in George Eliot’s Middlemarch”, and Robert B. Heilman’s “’Stealthy Convergence’ in Middlemarch”. Rich explores the role of individualized religion amongst the characters of Middlemarch, noting that organized religion, while an assumed component, plays almost no overt role in the plot. There are plenty of religious figures, clergy and the like, but we never see them officiating or preaching or attending church, (except when Ladislaw snuck into Causabon’s church to see Dorothea, where the service itself played no part). Rich tells us that whatever the formal religion of the characters (Anglican, primarily), each character operates on prominent personal religious principle upon which the narrator and the reader are to judge. Caleb Garth’s “noble form of religion” is “To do a good day’s work and do it well” (Rich 650), and know one has worked honorably. Dorothea has a different personal religion, the “religion of radiant sympathy” (652). “What do we live for, “she asks, “if it is not to make life less difficult to each other?” (652). Rich also convinces us, amazingly, that Mr. Bulstrode, also has a personal religion: the facade of religious commitment, one “concerned only with the empty belief in…ritual or ceremony, not the understanding and practice of moral teachings” (654). In Bulstrode’s mind, if he looks religious, then he is so, thus avoiding true accountability.
                Heilman’s “Stealthy Convergence” takes on the artistry Eliot shows in switching from one plot thread to the next. Instead of clumsy, abrupt transitions, Eliot uses the novelistic equivalent of panning used in modern film, where the reader’s attention is slowly transitioned from one set of characters to another by carefully overlapping conversation, as found in the party scene where we first meet Lydgate, or matching themes, as when the seemingly abrupt return from the Lydgate thread to Dorothea’s honeymoon in Rome. Heilman says we are here taken through parallel themes with “two eager idealists feeling educative blows by unanticipated crude reality, one in professional, the other in domestic, life” (Heilman 621), the professional blow being Lydgate pressured to compromise his morals by voting for Tyke, and the domestic blow being Dorothea’s first inkling into Causabon’s true nature as an insecure and aloof scholar.

Analysis

I found in Heilman the only defense of Dorothea’s marriage to Will Ladislaw. All Middlemarch marriages are of opposites, and theirs is the most interesting of all as a “convergence of the moral and the aesthetic” (622). Dorothea has a “strong Victorian cast” that emphasizes duty and selfless service. Ladislaw is a “pure Romantic” (capital R), an “outsider” without ties, but a strong “sense of honour” (622). To Heilman, then, Ladislaw and Dorothea complement each other, in the same way that Fred and Mary do, and even (in a negative way) Lydgate and Rosamond. I see his point, although I can’t say that, even from this perspective, that Eliot made her case for the marriage. The other marriages work very well, in a plotting, storytelling sense, for the marriages either fix character defects or deliciously expose them. With Ladislaw, this did not happen, and I still come back to the sense of “why him?”



Works Cited


Eliot, George. Middlemarch: An Authoritative Text, Backgrounds, Criticism. Ed. Bert G. Hornback 2nd ed. New York: Norton, 2000. Print.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Contemporary Reviews of Middlemarch

Summary

If the contemporary reviews in our critical edition represent a typical reception, it appears that reviewers of Middlemarch were conflicted in their opinions. On one hand, they all praised Eliot’s depth of character, descriptive powers, and acute observation of human nature as unparalleled. “Never before have so keen and varied an observation, so deep insight into character and motives, so strong a grasp of conceptions, such power of picturesque description, worked together to represent through the agency of fiction an author’s moral and social views” (573). One the other, the reviewers thought the novel too didactic, for all its genius of insight and mastery of language. The Saturday Review went on wish that Eliot had told the story from the purer motive of storytelling, rather than seeking to teach a lesson. Eliot’s view of the world as too selfish and a society too hollow tended, the review says, to drain away the likeability of otherwise more or less normal characters, such as Celia. In the world of Middlemarch, if one is not as selfless as Dorothea, an obscure St. Theresa, than one is selfish. Saturday Review disagrees, noting there is a difference between selfishness and reasonable care of self. Other reviews quibble over the novel’s structure, notably Henry James lamenting, with some merit, that Dorothea’s character was wasted after the death of Mr. Causabon, and not give the centrality it deserved.
                Essentially all the reviewers loved Eliot’s genius in characterization as she paints them with such subtlety as to be truly lifelike. James proclaims the construction Dorothea a great achievement, and Saturday Review spends well-deserved space on Mr. Causabon. It speaks of him as exceedingly well-drawn: the physical and spiritual personification of dry, worthless scholarship, with his tomblike appearance and tomblike book.

Analysis

James wrote: “The figure of Will Ladislaw is a beautiful attempt, with many finely-completed points; but on the whole it seems to us a failure” (580). I was rather taken off guard to find this same sentiment arise time and again in these reviews, not because I disagree, but because I do agree, but had thought my opinion of no account. As the story progressed, I developed a vague uneasiness about Ladislaw because I could not see how he measured up to Dorothea as a friend or love interest, or even as an Eliot-worthy character generally. James calls him “vague and impalpable”, a figure who never overcomes early insubstantial dilettante ways (580). Like Saturday Review, I found Ladislaw charming, but failing the “test of duty” all other Middlemarchers were to pass. “He does what he likes, right or wrong, to the end of the story; he makes no sacrifices; even his devotion to Dorothea does not preserve him from an unworthy flirtation with his friend Lydgate’s wife. He is happy by luck, not desert” (575). Leslie Stephen was less kind: “But [marrying Ladislaw] seems to imply that a Theresa of our days has to be content with suckling fools and chronicling small beer” (584). As Dorothea’s love for Ladislaw became clearer, I could only say to myself, “Why?” My feeling was not as sharp as the reviewers—just a vague dislike for the character and his role—but they crystallized my undefined feelings exactly.



Works Cited


Eliot, George. Middlemarch: An Authoritative Text, Backgrounds, Criticism. Ed. Bert G. Hornback 2nd ed. New York: Norton, 2000. Print.