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3.75 AVERAGE
3.75 AVERAGE
challenging
informative
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Content Warnings
Graphic: Antisemitism
My stars. I am astonished at this. Thoughts below, in no particular order:
1. The way this woman writes women means passing comments, asides, fundamental motivations, and personal hopes in her characters all make me feel seen in a way I have hardly ever felt.
2. I am fascinated by the fact that this is the first book of hers where I can remember there being a character who could even halfway be described as a villain—their defining characteristic being a commitment to self-pleasure and domination of others is telling.
3. George Eliot has one of the most interesting relationships with faith I have ever come across, and it inspires a sort of holy envy in me. She is consistently impressed by the way religion—any religion—can elevate its most sincere followers. The fact that she wrote this massive, complex, incredibly constructed novel to refute anti-Semistism is the obvious part (yes, it could be termed Uncle Tom’s Cabin for a different minority with all the associated issues, but there is so much more depth of writing than Harriet Beecher Stowe could have even attempted, let alone executed in her emotional sledgehammer (which was itself incredibly affective and effective)), but she has also written similarly lauded Methodists, Christians, etc. plus she loves Charles Lamb who loves Quakers. It feels like she admires commitment to faith and its transformative power in a way few religious people do. (Shoutout the the cameo the Book of Mormon got from this book published in 1876).
4. The only times I have read 800+ page novels and never felt like a single word was wasted were when I read this and Middlemarch. Truly impressive, that.
5. Thanks to a passing comment from Claudia Bushman when I saw her in Relief Society a couple weeks ago, I’m reading through all of George Eliot’s works, and I am utterly converted to a new favorite author. I actually quite regret that I read Daniel Deronda, her last novel, before the remaining two. This is the perfect end to her career, and going back to Felix Holt (written ten years earlier) and Scenes from a Clerical Life (her first collection of work, usually referenced as early materials she expounded on for later books) will be a major downshift.
1. The way this woman writes women means passing comments, asides, fundamental motivations, and personal hopes in her characters all make me feel seen in a way I have hardly ever felt.
2. I am fascinated by the fact that this is the first book of hers where I can remember there being a character who could even halfway be described as a villain—their defining characteristic being a commitment to self-pleasure and domination of others is telling.
3. George Eliot has one of the most interesting relationships with faith I have ever come across, and it inspires a sort of holy envy in me. She is consistently impressed by the way religion—any religion—can elevate its most sincere followers. The fact that she wrote this massive, complex, incredibly constructed novel to refute anti-Semistism is the obvious part (yes, it could be termed Uncle Tom’s Cabin for a different minority with all the associated issues, but there is so much more depth of writing than Harriet Beecher Stowe could have even attempted, let alone executed in her emotional sledgehammer (which was itself incredibly affective and effective)), but she has also written similarly lauded Methodists, Christians, etc. plus she loves Charles Lamb who loves Quakers. It feels like she admires commitment to faith and its transformative power in a way few religious people do. (Shoutout the the cameo the Book of Mormon got from this book published in 1876).
4. The only times I have read 800+ page novels and never felt like a single word was wasted were when I read this and Middlemarch. Truly impressive, that.
5. Thanks to a passing comment from Claudia Bushman when I saw her in Relief Society a couple weeks ago, I’m reading through all of George Eliot’s works, and I am utterly converted to a new favorite author. I actually quite regret that I read Daniel Deronda, her last novel, before the remaining two. This is the perfect end to her career, and going back to Felix Holt (written ten years earlier) and Scenes from a Clerical Life (her first collection of work, usually referenced as early materials she expounded on for later books) will be a major downshift.
Once upon a time novels were public entertainment and Eliot knew how to paint vivid word pictures for her readers. The extended descriptions of place and the thoughts and feelings of characters adds depth and dimension to the story in ways we don't see today. The abundance of words occasionally made my head ache — not to mention my hand as I thought of how all of this was originally written out in longhand. Whew! (Talk about high production value.)
Character—that is, who a person reveals themself to be over time through word and deed—is a fascinating study worthy of our attention. And finding one's own identity never gets old.
Lovely long listen as I worked in my studio.
Character—that is, who a person reveals themself to be over time through word and deed—is a fascinating study worthy of our attention. And finding one's own identity never gets old.
Lovely long listen as I worked in my studio.
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
This book was a total rollercoaster and has so much to offer. It has incredibly interesting juxtapositions of gambling and religion, thinking and feeling, the tyrant and the martyr and many more. Then there are delicate discussions pertaining to heritage, ancestors, privilege but also anti-semitism and the general discussion of the importance of race.
I am withholding my final judgement review for the discussion with my reading buddies and a very kind teacher of 19th century literature (who knows more about this than we could ever pretend to understand :-P).
I am withholding my final judgement review for the discussion with my reading buddies and a very kind teacher of 19th century literature (who knows more about this than we could ever pretend to understand :-P).
challenging
dark
emotional
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
2 / 4 : If you have time, read
[Our titular Daniel disapproves of Gwendolyn Harleth's gambling and she, being British, can't let this mild censure go.]
Her last novel, Daniel Deronda features Eliot at the ambitious height of her career, with complex characterizations of even the most trifling characters and a bevy of themes from the role of women in Regency England to, yes, you guessed it, Zionism.
There are slight criticisms you could lodge at the book, but my guess is, Eliot wouldn't care.
[Our titular Daniel disapproves of Gwendolyn Harleth's gambling and she, being British, can't let this mild censure go.]
Her last novel, Daniel Deronda features Eliot at the ambitious height of her career, with complex characterizations of even the most trifling characters and a bevy of themes from the role of women in Regency England to, yes, you guessed it, Zionism.
There are slight criticisms you could lodge at the book, but my guess is, Eliot wouldn't care.
challenging
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
Daniel Deronda was Eliot’s last, and most ambitious novel. Given Eliot’s belief that it was a novelist’s job to show the world as it is, and to cultivate sympathy for all kinds of people in all of their differences and flaws, it could not be a more appropriate final text for her to have written.
Eliot, having gone on her own personal journey similar to Daniel’s, from a casual anti-Semitism absorbed from the surrounding culture, to knowledge and advocacy that is so revolutionary it puts forth the ideas of Zionism 20 years before they really emerge.
The novel is, to be fair, and uneven one. Eliot had a mission, and the Queen’s ear; she was riding on the popularity and influence of a successful career that had made her incredibly wealthy. She could afford to take risks, and anticipated the novel would encounter a good deal of criticism surrounding its “Jewish half.”
And it’s true that the Mordecai chapters are a bit of a slog. He isn’t really given characteristics outside of his religious mission, and he talks at great length about it repeatedly. Eliot was incredibly smart to make these revolutionary characters so non-threatening: Mordecai, poor and dying of consumption; Mirah, submissive and good to her core, in need of rescuing; and Daniel, with his own anti-Jewish prejudice and his identity as an English gentleman, only revealed in Book VII to be himself a Jew.
But I don’t think it’s true that the Jewish half of the novel isn’t integrated purposefully and fully with Gwendolen’s more interesting half. It’s not really a fair fight to compare such uncomplicated characters in their overabundance of goodness and faith—with little happening in the way of action—to Gwendolen, so full of fire and passion, then so miserable and caged.
There are so many places that the novel is weaved together, and Book VIII cements that through the friendship of Sir Hugo and Mr. Gascoigne, and their shared commitment to look after Gwendolen in the wake of Grandcourt’s shabby provisions for her in the will.
I love that Eliot bucks the tradition of the Victorian novel, not uniting hero and heroine (Gwendolen and Daniel), and having characters in the book themselves frustrated at this twist (Hans, Sir Hugo, Lady Mallinger); by showing a marriage (and one full of abuse in the upper classes, at that); and by ending the novel with Ezra’s death rather than Mirah and Daniel’s wedding.
It’s not really a 5 star book objectively, but the language is so beautiful, and the project so complex and difficult, and Gwendolen so special, that it more than compensates for the flaws. Plus, I have a nostalgic attachment to the book, among the first Victorian novels that I loved.
Eliot, having gone on her own personal journey similar to Daniel’s, from a casual anti-Semitism absorbed from the surrounding culture, to knowledge and advocacy that is so revolutionary it puts forth the ideas of Zionism 20 years before they really emerge.
The novel is, to be fair, and uneven one. Eliot had a mission, and the Queen’s ear; she was riding on the popularity and influence of a successful career that had made her incredibly wealthy. She could afford to take risks, and anticipated the novel would encounter a good deal of criticism surrounding its “Jewish half.”
And it’s true that the
But I don’t think it’s true that the Jewish half of the novel isn’t integrated purposefully and fully with Gwendolen’s more interesting half. It’s not really a fair fight to compare such uncomplicated characters in their overabundance of goodness and faith—with little happening in the way of action—to Gwendolen, so full of fire and passion, then so miserable and caged.
There are so many places that the novel is weaved together, and Book VIII cements that through the friendship of Sir Hugo and Mr. Gascoigne, and their shared commitment to look after Gwendolen in the wake of Grandcourt’s shabby provisions for her in the will.
I love that Eliot bucks the tradition of the Victorian novel, not uniting hero and heroine (Gwendolen and Daniel), and having characters in the book themselves frustrated at this twist (Hans, Sir Hugo, Lady Mallinger); by showing a marriage (and one full of abuse in the upper classes, at that); and by ending the novel with Ezra’s death rather than Mirah and Daniel’s wedding.
It’s not really a 5 star book objectively, but the language is so beautiful, and the project so complex and difficult, and Gwendolen so special, that it more than compensates for the flaws. Plus, I have a nostalgic attachment to the book, among the first Victorian novels that I loved.
slow-paced
challenging
dark
sad
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes