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A review by ange_reads
Miss Marjoribanks by Margaret Oliphant
5.0
I loved this. I went through the whole range of emotions reading this - and that absolutely surprised me. Not because the beginning was terrible or anything. No, I enjoyed this from the beginning, laughing aloud frequently. But this began as a gentle satire of the main character, our Miss Marjoribanks, and somewhere along the line, the author ceased the fond but mocking tone she had used to describe her main character, and I found myself feeling deep compassion for Lucilla. And THAT was the surprise.
I began reading the book with much amusement - throughout, I would periodically laugh out loud, as Lucilla handily managed the people around her. About 100 pages in, I got impatient and a little bored - and then Mrs. Oliphant immediately brought in the drama that hooked me in. At 500+ pages, it did drag periodically, and I would wonder, every 100 pages or so, how much more there could possibly be to cover. But the main plot is not about romantic intrigue or social climbing - no, it's the growth of the main character, and for that 500+ pages is just the right amount.
This is also one of the most subtle and forthright pieces of feminist literature I've read from this time period (so of course, I love it even more).
Where Jane Austen had skirted around the issues or kept them palatable and within the realm of what was acceptable (actually, it's been ages since I've read Emma, which some reviewers have compared this to, so I may be off here), Mrs. Oliphant boldly states her premise: this brilliant, very capable, very sensible woman is made to be completely dependent on the fortunes of the men in her life, and when those fortunes are reversed, instead of being able to take care of herself as Lucilla is so inclined, society cripples her and forces her to be useless and inoffensively decorative. And too, those 500+ pages are necessary to serve this purpose: for us to fall in love with Lucilla and her strength of character, so that we can be dismayed when she is crippled, and so that we can wholeheartedly agree when Mrs. Oliphant laments that Lucilla's gender prevents her from taking up her father's medical practice or from running for Parliament or even from taking care of her own needs. "She was a Power in Carlingford, and she knew it: but still there is little good in the existence of a Power unless it can be made use of for some worthy end."
And Tom - that was another surprise! He makes his entrance as the classic buffoon that we must pity and then makes a speedy departure. When Mrs. Oliphant began referencing him again, I was dismayed - Lucilla deserved so much better than him! But the reverse in her fortune - the sorrow and loss and growth she experiences - suddenly make it clear the Tom is the only answer. Because he is the only one who truly, devoutedly, and without any doubt whatsoever obeyed all of her advice. Which is the most passionate declaration of love that can be made to Lucilla. (See what an absurd book this is??)
"Mrs. Oli-who?" I asked myself when I first saw this book, and her skill at leading me to her desired conclusion took me completely by surprise.
I began reading the book with much amusement - throughout, I would periodically laugh out loud, as Lucilla handily managed the people around her. About 100 pages in, I got impatient and a little bored - and then Mrs. Oliphant immediately brought in the drama that hooked me in. At 500+ pages, it did drag periodically, and I would wonder, every 100 pages or so, how much more there could possibly be to cover. But the main plot is not about romantic intrigue or social climbing - no, it's the growth of the main character, and for that 500+ pages is just the right amount.
This is also one of the most subtle and forthright pieces of feminist literature I've read from this time period (so of course, I love it even more).
Where Jane Austen had skirted around the issues or kept them palatable and within the realm of what was acceptable (actually, it's been ages since I've read Emma, which some reviewers have compared this to, so I may be off here), Mrs. Oliphant boldly states her premise: this brilliant, very capable, very sensible woman is made to be completely dependent on the fortunes of the men in her life, and when those fortunes are reversed, instead of being able to take care of herself as Lucilla is so inclined, society cripples her and forces her to be useless and inoffensively decorative. And too, those 500+ pages are necessary to serve this purpose: for us to fall in love with Lucilla and her strength of character, so that we can be dismayed when she is crippled, and so that we can wholeheartedly agree when Mrs. Oliphant laments that Lucilla's gender prevents her from taking up her father's medical practice or from running for Parliament or even from taking care of her own needs. "She was a Power in Carlingford, and she knew it: but still there is little good in the existence of a Power unless it can be made use of for some worthy end."
And Tom - that was another surprise! He makes his entrance as the classic buffoon that we must pity and then makes a speedy departure. When Mrs. Oliphant began referencing him again, I was dismayed - Lucilla deserved so much better than him! But the reverse in her fortune - the sorrow and loss and growth she experiences - suddenly make it clear the Tom is the only answer. Because he is the only one who truly, devoutedly, and without any doubt whatsoever obeyed all of her advice. Which is the most passionate declaration of love that can be made to Lucilla. (See what an absurd book this is??)
"Mrs. Oli-who?" I asked myself when I first saw this book, and her skill at leading me to her desired conclusion took me completely by surprise.