Middlemarch, by George Eliot

After 20 years of saying, “I’ve got to read Middlemarch one day” – I finally am. As with most of the “classics” (at least this has been my experience) – I have found that once I just start the thing, I usually can’t put it down. Middlemarch is, I am discovering, a page-turner. It happens to be 800 pages long, but that’s no matter. It’s still a page-turner. The character development, the social commentary, the feeling that you are immersed into an entire world … I can’t put it down.

First of all, there is no “plot” as of yet – I’m still in the beginning stages where characters are being introduced. However, their struggles and inner-journeys, the conflicts which could arise in the future, are all becoming rather clear at this point. Nothing has happened YET, but you can sense the potential.

And the writing itself … She’s got flashes of such laser-beam intensity, moments of such psychological clarity, that I feel like everything I have ever written has been shallow and unworthy. Heh. Well, it’s good to have something to strive for. Good to get to know the geniuses!

For those of you have read the book, here are random thoughts:

— I absolutely LOVE Fred Vincy, the kind of dissipated cheerful brother of the vain and pretty Rosamond. I LOVE Fred, and I hope that he finds happiness. He seems to deserve it more than anybody else at this point, even though he does sleep until noon, and is … well, frankly … pissing his life away. Still, I love his disposition. He’s my favorite character so far.

— Mrs. Cadwallader is CRACKING ME UP.

— Dorothea is, as my father used to say, “cruisin’ for a bruisin’.” By that I mean, nobody can be that idealistic (and priggish) without having a really difficult time facing reality. So far reality has not intruded into her pleasant little world, but it will, I am sure. I relate to Dorothea in many many ways. I see myself in her. Maybe that’s why I’m, at this point, so impatient with her.

— I love the Vicar who plays cards and billiards for money, and who studies insects and flowers in his spare time. I can’t remember his name at the moment.

— Oh, and I also love the plain girl Mary Garth. Fascinating character so far. I see quite a bit of myself in her, as well.

I’ll post a couple excerpts momentarily. I am finding the entire reading experience of this book to be completely DEE-LISH.

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8 Responses to Middlemarch, by George Eliot

  1. Anne says:

    God, you’re making me want to read it AGAIN. And I’ve already read it twice.

  2. red says:

    Do you remember Fred? Am I right in thinking he’s awesome?

    No wait, don’t tell me.

    I guess I’m afraid something terrible is going to happen to him.

  3. annie says:

    i was ultimately disappointed with Middlemarch. But i’m anxious to find out what you think of it when you’re done.

  4. Laura (southernxyl) says:

    A lot of stuff happens to Fred.

    I like Celia.

    When you finish, I’ll be interested to hear what you think of the way things turn out for Rosemary. I wonder if we’ll agree.

  5. red says:

    Rosemary seems like a nitwit. I don’t like her.

    Fred’s my favorite so far. I also like Will Ladislaw – the cousin of Dorothea’s boring-ass husband. I like Will a lot.

  6. ricki says:

    Mrs. Cadwallader! Yes, she cracked me up too. I loved Mrs. Cadwallader. And Mary Garth. I really liked Mary Garth. And Fred.

    You’re making me want to re-read the book, even though I’m in the middle of both Bleak House and A Distant Mirror….

    And it amuses ‘ell out of me to hear you refer to Mr. Causabon as “Dorothea’s boring-ass husband.” hahahaha.

  7. red says:

    ricki: hahahaha

    Mrs. Cadwallader can be so annoying, but the thing is – she is RIGHT. Her assessments are usually right.

    And about Causabon – what a drip. The thing that clinched it for me was the sentence:

    “It was when he called her “my love” that his voice was always the coldest.”

    oooh. That just gives me the shivers.

  8. ricki says:

    when I get into one of my horrible “the whole human race sucks, we should be wiped clean off the face of the earth and let evolution start over again with the ferns or something” moods, I think of writers like George Eliot or Willa Cather and composers like Bach or Hadyn and I convince myself that the human race can’t be so lost, if it can produce people who can create like that.

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