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3.64k reviews for:
Middlemarch: (Barnes & Noble Collectible Editions) (Barnes & Noble Leatherbound Classics)
George Eliot
4.06 AVERAGE
3.64k reviews for:
Middlemarch: (Barnes & Noble Collectible Editions) (Barnes & Noble Leatherbound Classics)
George Eliot
4.06 AVERAGE
Could any one person every be as good as Dorothea? So glad I read this.
More charming than Dickens and more thoughtful than Trollope, but Eliot's liberal sensibilities still leave much to be desired.
challenging
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Her writing prowess is undeniable. At times her writing reminded me of Dickens. And I love Dickens. It was profound, it was funny, I got the sense she was enjoying herself writing it. Some of my favorite bit are:
"We mortals, men and women, devour many a disappointment between breakfast and dinner time, keep back the tears and look a little pale about the lips, and in answer to inquiries say, "Oh, nothing!" Pride helps us, and pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our own hurts--not to hurt others." (59)
"...a prig is a fellow who is always making you a present of his opinions." (96)
"...the quickest of us walk about well wadded with stupidity." (186)
You’ll notice that the last quote is from p. 186. That’s because I only made it to page 334. Out of almost 800. The story just didn’t capture my attention. Fred and his gambling debts and Dorothea getting married to an old dude, her sister getting married to Dorothea’s former suitor, Mary getting married to the Lydgate the new medical man in town, I just didn’t care enough. The characters were very well developed but perhaps there were just too damned many of them. I read enough epic fantasy that a wide cast of characters doesn’t intimidate me, but combined with a story that just didn’t connect lead me to put the put down.
Just because it wasn’t my thing, doesn’t mean it was a bad book. The writing style is good enough for you to give it a go. Maybe it’ll be your thing!
"We mortals, men and women, devour many a disappointment between breakfast and dinner time, keep back the tears and look a little pale about the lips, and in answer to inquiries say, "Oh, nothing!" Pride helps us, and pride is not a bad thing when it only urges us to hide our own hurts--not to hurt others." (59)
"...a prig is a fellow who is always making you a present of his opinions." (96)
"...the quickest of us walk about well wadded with stupidity." (186)
You’ll notice that the last quote is from p. 186. That’s because I only made it to page 334. Out of almost 800. The story just didn’t capture my attention. Fred and his gambling debts and Dorothea getting married to an old dude, her sister getting married to Dorothea’s former suitor, Mary getting married to the Lydgate the new medical man in town, I just didn’t care enough. The characters were very well developed but perhaps there were just too damned many of them. I read enough epic fantasy that a wide cast of characters doesn’t intimidate me, but combined with a story that just didn’t connect lead me to put the put down.
Just because it wasn’t my thing, doesn’t mean it was a bad book. The writing style is good enough for you to give it a go. Maybe it’ll be your thing!
challenging
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
lighthearted
relaxing
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Just as the description says - a marvellous book with incredibly believable characters and a freshness as if it had been written yesterday.
Heard it as audio book read by Juliet Stephenson. Excellently read.
Heard it as audio book read by Juliet Stephenson. Excellently read.
“And, of course, men know best about everything, except what women know better."
Yeah, that’s right. I finished Middlemarch. +10 to literary badassery.
*coughs*
Okay, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have to admit the only reason I actually had the will power to plow through this book is the constant encouragement of my literary partner in crime, Kat. As post-grads, we decided to undertake Middlemarch as a way to keep our English major-y brains from atrophying. Middlemarch, an 800 page tome detailing the minutiae of country life in 1830s England, provided a significant challenge and had the bonus of being “that book that’s been sitting on my shelf unread” for both of us. It seemed only appropriate. To bolster our courage, we agreed to read at least 100 pages every two weeks, starting in August, on the grounds that after each fortnight passed we would settle on a night when both of us could grab dinner and chat about the book (and all manner of other geekery, but that’s beside the point).
Honestly? I’m not sure I would have made it through the book by myself. It’s quite the undertaking during a season in my life where busy is really the name of the game. I wouldn’t say that Middlemarch is a hard read, so much as a dense read, but it did make it hard to plug into the book, particularly after long days at work. The best time for reading the book was actually on Saturday mornings, when I’m typically at my most alert, instead of before bed, when I like to dig into brain candy.
All that said, I did love the book and underlined a great deal of it (you may have noticed, considering the amount of quotes I’ve posted on here). For such a long book, Eliot does an amazing job keeping the story moving and keeping it interesting. I think that’s what impressed me most, actually. The plot just keeps going, weaving the lives of these provincial characters together. They come together, they clash, they experience misunderstanding and joy, and as the reader you discover their insecurities and their weaknesses, as revealed through the eyes of a snarky narrator. It’s not necessarily clear who is narrating the book, if its Eliot herself or if its a flawed observer.
Either way, the observations offered through the narrator regarding patriarchy, passion and politics are cutting and to the point. It’s refreshing and unapologetic, which I loved, particularly when the narrator managed, somehow, to give me compassionate insight into the one character I hated beyond any other in the book (possibly any book, actually) I loathed Casaubon, and with good reason. Still, the narrator provides just enough insight into Casaubon to mix that loathing with compassion and, more to the point perhaps, pity. The ability of a narrator to make me see multiple sides to a character is impressive, especially with a character like Casaubon. Unlike many villains, who can be prized for their cunning or their humor or even their looks, Casaubon had nothing going for him from the start besides the love of a good woman. For Eliot to show him so clearly and undeniably flawed, and then take readers a level deeper into the pride, the fears and the insecurities that make him who he is, was honestly one of my favorite parts of the book. He’s an ass, but he’s human.
And really, isn’t that the point of fiction? Prior to reading Middlemarch, I don’t think I could have found any ground on which to condone cheating on a significant other. But having read Middlemarch, I can understand situations in which it could come up, where marriage becomes a soul sucking trap and the needs and desires for real human connection, even just a mental connection, becomes so overwhelming that it leads you to make that connection with someone who isn’t your husband or wife. It’s a lack of communication, a wall of insecurities or pride, a lack of expectations met - it’s a lack filled by someone else. It doesn’t mean that I suddenly condone and recommend cheating, but suddenly I find myself capable of seeing the situation more clearly for having walked through it in Dorothea and Rosamund’s shoes.
Fiction is about living situations from perspectives that are not our own, and Middlemarch takes 800 pages to walk readers through a social and political commentary on money, marriage and gainful employment. It’s a hefty undertaking, but I recommend it; it’s worth the time.
*coughs*
Okay, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have to admit the only reason I actually had the will power to plow through this book is the constant encouragement of my literary partner in crime, Kat. As post-grads, we decided to undertake Middlemarch as a way to keep our English major-y brains from atrophying. Middlemarch, an 800 page tome detailing the minutiae of country life in 1830s England, provided a significant challenge and had the bonus of being “that book that’s been sitting on my shelf unread” for both of us. It seemed only appropriate. To bolster our courage, we agreed to read at least 100 pages every two weeks, starting in August, on the grounds that after each fortnight passed we would settle on a night when both of us could grab dinner and chat about the book (and all manner of other geekery, but that’s beside the point).
Honestly? I’m not sure I would have made it through the book by myself. It’s quite the undertaking during a season in my life where busy is really the name of the game. I wouldn’t say that Middlemarch is a hard read, so much as a dense read, but it did make it hard to plug into the book, particularly after long days at work. The best time for reading the book was actually on Saturday mornings, when I’m typically at my most alert, instead of before bed, when I like to dig into brain candy.
All that said, I did love the book and underlined a great deal of it (you may have noticed, considering the amount of quotes I’ve posted on here). For such a long book, Eliot does an amazing job keeping the story moving and keeping it interesting. I think that’s what impressed me most, actually. The plot just keeps going, weaving the lives of these provincial characters together. They come together, they clash, they experience misunderstanding and joy, and as the reader you discover their insecurities and their weaknesses, as revealed through the eyes of a snarky narrator. It’s not necessarily clear who is narrating the book, if its Eliot herself or if its a flawed observer.
Either way, the observations offered through the narrator regarding patriarchy, passion and politics are cutting and to the point. It’s refreshing and unapologetic, which I loved, particularly when the narrator managed, somehow, to give me compassionate insight into the one character I hated beyond any other in the book (possibly any book, actually) I loathed Casaubon, and with good reason. Still, the narrator provides just enough insight into Casaubon to mix that loathing with compassion and, more to the point perhaps, pity. The ability of a narrator to make me see multiple sides to a character is impressive, especially with a character like Casaubon. Unlike many villains, who can be prized for their cunning or their humor or even their looks, Casaubon had nothing going for him from the start besides the love of a good woman. For Eliot to show him so clearly and undeniably flawed, and then take readers a level deeper into the pride, the fears and the insecurities that make him who he is, was honestly one of my favorite parts of the book. He’s an ass, but he’s human.
And really, isn’t that the point of fiction? Prior to reading Middlemarch, I don’t think I could have found any ground on which to condone cheating on a significant other. But having read Middlemarch, I can understand situations in which it could come up, where marriage becomes a soul sucking trap and the needs and desires for real human connection, even just a mental connection, becomes so overwhelming that it leads you to make that connection with someone who isn’t your husband or wife. It’s a lack of communication, a wall of insecurities or pride, a lack of expectations met - it’s a lack filled by someone else. It doesn’t mean that I suddenly condone and recommend cheating, but suddenly I find myself capable of seeing the situation more clearly for having walked through it in Dorothea and Rosamund’s shoes.
Fiction is about living situations from perspectives that are not our own, and Middlemarch takes 800 pages to walk readers through a social and political commentary on money, marriage and gainful employment. It’s a hefty undertaking, but I recommend it; it’s worth the time.