Middlemarch is a classic of 19th-century English literature: not an easy read at more than eight hundred pages, but worth the effort. Mary Ann Evans, writing under the pseudonym George Eliot, starts her novel by focusing on Dorothea, an idealistic young woman who shocks everyone by marrying a much older man, Casaubon. Dorothea’s marriage soon becomes a nightmare, complicated by the appearance of an attractive young artist, Will Ladislaw. The plot soon widens to include the interlinking stories of other families living in and around the fictional town of Middlemarch in the English Midlands.
19th-century soap opera
The full title of the novel is Middlemarch: A Study of Provincial Life and there is enough scandal and intrigue in this provincial life to fill several seasons of a soap opera. Eliot’s narrator takes the reader from family to family, revealing hidden scenes of jealousy, blackmail, debt and deceit going on behind the facade of respectability. The satisfaction the reader gets from looking into other people’s lives is expressed by Dorothea, as she watches a funeral procession pass her window.
“I am fond of knowing something about the people I live among [...] One is constantly wondering what sort of lives other people lead, and how they take things.”
“«Vado pazza per conoscere qualcosa della gente fra cui vivo.» […]
«Uno sta a chiedersi continuamente che genere di vita conducono gli altri, e come prendono le cose.»”
Psychological insights
But Middlemarch is much more than voyeuristic entertainment. In fact, Eliot’s choice to write her seven novels under a male pseudonym marked her determination not to be constrained by the convention of her day, which held that women were only good enough to write frivolous romances. In Middlemarch, she explores philosophical ideas and draws complex psychological portraits of all her characters. As the vicar reminds Dorothea:
“But, my dear Mrs. Casaubon,” said Mr. Farebrother, smiling gently at her ardor, “character is not cut in marble — it is not something solid and unalterable. It is something living and changing, and may become diseased as our bodies do.”
“Then it may be rescued and healed,” said Dorothea.
“«Ma, mia cara Mrs Casaubon», disse Mr Farebrother, sorridendo gentilmente davanti all’ardore di lei «il carattere non è inciso nel marmo – non è qualcosa di solido e inalterabile. È qualcosa di vivo e di cangiante, e si può ammalare come il nostro corpo.»
«Allora non può venir salvato e risanato» disse Dorothea.”
Historical setting
Although the novel was published, originally in installments, between 1871 and 1872, it is set earlier, around 1830. This is the period of the Reform Act, a law introduced in Britain to reform the voting system so that more ordinary people (though no women yet) had the right to vote. Railways are starting to be built across the countryside and medical practice is changing. These developments are explored in the novel and although they are not well understood by most of the characters, they still cause controversy. The narrator points out that:
“In the absence of any precise idea as to what railways were, public opinion in Frick [a small village] was against them; for the human mind in that grassy corner had not the proverbial tendency to admire the unknown, holding rather that it was likely to be against the poor man, and that suspicion was the only wise attitude with regard to it.”
“In mancanza di alcuna idea precisa sulle ferrovie, l’opinione pubblica di Frick era contraria ad esse; perché la mente umana, in quell’angolo erboso, non era dotata della proverbiale tendenza ad ammirare l’ignoto, e sosteneva piuttosto che era probabile che fosse a danno dei poveri, e la diffidenza era l’unico atteggiamento saggio riguardo ad essa.”
Money
As in most 19th-century novels, the theme of money and inheritance is key to the plot. Eliot shows the enormous power of inherited wealth to shape the lives of the next generation. Dorothea is determined to use the fortune she inherits from her husband Casaubon to do good and put right an injustice. But a codicil added to Casaubon’s will leaves her powerless. The wealthy Mr. Featherstone manipulates his relatives by falsely encouraging them to believe they will inherit his fortune when he dies. We are told that Featherstone was as avaricious as he was malicious:
“He loved money, but he also loved to spend it in gratifying his peculiar tastes, and perhaps he loved it best of all as a means of making others feel his power more or less uncomfortably.”
“Egli amava il denaro, ma amava anche spenderlo per soddisfare i suoi gusti particolari, e forse lo amava più di tutto come mezzo per far sentire agli altri, con maggiore o minore disagio, il suo potere.”
legacy
It’s no surprise that this long and complex book has never been adapted for cinema. The story has so many characters and subplots that it would be impossible to fit into a film. The BBC made a six-part miniseries in 1994, which does give a taste of the story, but Middlemarch is one of those novels that really is better experienced on the page than on the screen.