Classics Daniel Deronda by George Eliot

[Bookpossum]

Like sun surfer, I am still in Book 2, though within reach of Book 3 now. I was just suggesting we have a very rough outline for discussing the book because people seem to be in very different parts of it, which makes any sort of discussion difficult.

However, there really aren't any rules about how we do this fantasyfan!

That's an interesting comparison with Austen. I find that Eliot's plots and situations are a lot darker than Austen's, even though she was only too aware of the difficulties of a woman who had no fortune but yet was not supposed or indeed educated, to work for her living.

One big difference of course is in the attractiveness of Austen's central characters. By contrast I find Gwendolen to be a beautiful monster - definitely not someone I would want to spend time with. Austen would have made her a lesser character, like Miss Bingley in Pride and Prejudice, but Eliot makes us contemplate her situation and behaviour centre stage.

[BelleZora]

Although I found Gwendolen to be selfish and self-centered, I sympathize with her concern for her family that partially led to her decision to marry Henleigh Grandcourt. Becoming a governess would have provided for Gwendolen, but not for her family. Marrying Grandcourt was a pragmatic choice.

[Bookpossum]

I’m not up to that part of the story yet, though clearly it is coming. He is portrayed as a cruel man, so an unhappy choice for Gwendolen to have to make because her family is reduced to poverty.

[Prestidigitweeze]

Originally Posted by astrangerhere

I am really struggling with Deronda as a character. He just feels like a Mary Sue / Marty Stu to me.

About the unappetizing goodness of Daniel Deronda in Daniel Deronda:

Perhaps Eliot felt compelled to introduce an early version of the Decent Male Savior we now recognize in the disturbingly likable Benjamin Sisko from "Start Wreck DS9" in order to justify her sympathetic portrayal of a Jewish woman and, later, a Jewish scholar and Zionist. She was writing a novel in serial form for a Victorian audience with a history of antisemitism.

As cumbrous as the dual plotting can feel, it might have seemed necessary to balance Mordechai and Mirah Lapidoth/Cohen with an undeniably good character who does not discover he is [plot reveal deleted] until Eliot is sure her audience identifies with him. Perhaps she anticipated that readers might need to cling to the safer side of the story. If so, I don't think it works now, but I can see why the arbitrary might have looked essential to her then.

I very much appreciate Eliot's sustained humanization of Jewish characters, just as I do her defense of Jewish people in this novel, Middlemarch, letters to influential friends, and even a late essay that focuses on antisemitism. She is depressingly correct about snobbery and exclusion.

But Eliot's fascination/identification in Daniel Deronda does seem superegoic to me, and as much as I always admire the levels of psychological and sociopolitical/economic intricacy she negotiates, the results in this case aren't as fluid as in Middlemarch, with the deftness of its third-person ominiscience. Which is why I think Gwendolyn seems more alive than any other character in Deronda when moving and thinking through time: she came more naturally to Eliot and her psychic wounds create resonant ambiguities, the kind that modern readers feel.

I don't agree with the F.R. Leavis of The Great Tradition or Scrutiny and usually do not, but I always appreciate his insights en route to rigid conclusions. He is wrong to suggest "improvements" to Eliot's novel -- why can't a reader who thinks like Leavis skip certain sections without inflicting his pair of scissors on everyone else? -- but he is not wrong to identify lessening engagement when Gwendolyn is absent.

And it is startling to see Eliot -- rapt in the importance of arguing her case for Jewish humanity and even Zionism -- overlook Palestinian humanity in the process because it feels like unintentional prophecy. Still, I would never expect a Victorian novelist, limited by her knowledge of outcomes, and the inequities of imperfect empathy in her time, to transcend that time. Dickens didn't do it either, and Eliot's understanding of the machinery of class was always more complex than his. I can't be upset with Eliot for being unaware of what she never could have foreseen.

And I can't blame her for getting stuck at levels of characterization involving models who were people she wanted to help but remained partly hidden to her despite her considerable compassion and insight.

[sun surfer]

I really liked this quote in italics (with the rest added for context) from when Gwendolen and Rex were out riding:

It was an exquisite January morning in which there was no threat of rain, but a gray sky making the calmest background for the charms of a mild winter scene—the grassy borders of the lanes, the hedgerows sprinkled with red berries and haunted with low twitterings, the purple bareness of the elms, the rich brown of the furrows. The horses’ hoofs made a musical chime, accompanying their young voices. She was laughing at his equipment, for he was the reverse of a dandy, and he was enjoying her laughter; the freshness of the morning mingled with the freshness of their youth; and every sound that came from their clear throats, every glance they gave each other, was the bubbling outflow from a spring of joy. It was all morning to them, within and without.

[astrangerhere]

Originally Posted by sun surfer

I really liked this quote in italics (with the rest added for context) from when Gwendolen and Rex were out riding:

I had also highlighted that passage in my epub copy. It is such a bittersweet contrast to what was coming after the dawning of the day.

[Bookpossum]

I have now finished Book 3. Are others ready to discuss the first three books at this stage?

Even though I cannot like Gwendolen, I do feel sorry for her, and for so many other women of that time for whom marriage to someone as repellant as Grandcourt was the only way out of a life of misery and drudgery.

Of course there were vast numbers of people whose situation was hopeless from the beginning of their lives, and for whom there was no way out other than death. The agricultural labourers, the servants, the workers in the factories of the Industrial Revolution were the support base for the Grandcourts and the Mallingers of those times.

We do not see them: the nearest we get to them, at least so far, is the family to whom Daniel Deronda takes Mirah after he rescues her. That family of women makes an interesting contrast with Gwendolen's family of her mother and half-sisters.

Deronda's situation is intriguing: he has been brought up by Sir Hugo as a gentleman, well-educated, and yet uncertain of his birth and status. His kindness and decency are in stark contrast to the character of Grandcourt.

I hate to think how nasty things might get for Gwendolen once she is married to Grandcourt.

[poohbear_nc]

Gwendolyn is introduced to the reader as the object of a male gaze - Deronda's gaze - whose introspection sets the immediate tone and perception of Gwendolyn for the reader. And he also immediately associates evil with her beauty. She will remain the object of male gaze throughout the novel, as various men examine and interpret her looks, her words, and her imagined feelings.

When she reappears in the evening at the casino, this association with evil is further reinforced by "...she has got herself up as a sort of serpent now -- all green and silver, and winds her neck about a little more than usual" -- "It is a sort of Lamia beauty she has" -- again the object of male gaze. An interesting choice Lamia - who was cursed with eating her own children and permanent insomnia -- a punishment from Hera after having an affair with her husband Zeus.

Spoiler:

Rather a fascinating foreshadowing of Gwendolyn's punishment later in the novel by Mrs. Glasher - who cunningly tries to prevent Gwendolyn from 'eating' her children's inheritance from Grandcourt by extracting her promise not to marry Grandcourt.
Eliot brilliantly re-invents the Zeus/Hera Lamia myth with the tragic couple of Grandcourt/Glasher - where the wife Gwendolyn is cursed by the mistress Lydia Glasher.

Gwendolyn will have difficulty sleeping throughout the novel.

And the anti-Semite theme is introduced early as well, with her unpleasant interaction at Mr. Wiener's pawnshop - "...these Jew dealers were so unscrupulous in taking advantage of Christians unfortunate at play!"

[Bookpossum]

That is an interesting theme poohbear. From memory, I think Lamia killed other people's children rather than her own, but I suppose it depends which version of the myth you read. Still, that fits with the damage Lydia thinks she has inflicted on Lydia's children by marrying Grandcourt.

Our omniscient narrator of course tells us a great deal about Gwendolen. At the dinner party in Chapter 11, we are told that she is "not a general favourite with her own sex", and that she was not in the least fond of men " ... - she was only fond of their homage - and women did not give her homage".

I don't think any of the men she encountered could have admired her more than she admired herself. There was a mismatch between her beautiful face and her unpleasant personality.

As an aside, I have noticed that most people are referring to her as Gwendolyn. Is this how her name is given in some editions of the book? The one I am reading calls her Gwendolen.

[poohbear_nc]

Eliot employs contrasts throughout the novel - from the heavy handed (light/dark, blonde/brunette, rich/poor, Jew/Gentile, artistic/ordinary, etc.) to the more subtle (the 2 families of women only - good catch Bookpossum - that didn't hit me, how working class families make a living, etc.) and often deliciously inverts our expectations or stereotypes.

And the narrative is a constant examination/evaluation of appearance versus depths -- physical beauty versus kindness or self worth, gambling versus the life of the mind, results of physical versus mental occupation, etc.

N.B. Gwendolyn is the spelling in the Standard Ebooks edition.

[BelleZora]

Originally Posted by poohbear_nc

N.B. Gwendolyn is the spelling in the Standard Ebooks edition.

I used the Standard Ebook edition. Mine was spelled Gwendolen.

[poohbear_nc]

Originally Posted by BelleZora

I used the Standard Ebook edition. Mine was spelled Gwendolen.

Oops! You are correct. Another brain cell dies.

[Bookpossum]

Originally Posted by poohbear_nc

Oops! You are correct. Another brain cell dies.

Never mind - I'm sure you have lots more!

I did catch my iPad putting her name in with a y rather than an e, so perhaps it is just the vagaries of our various electronic devices. The machines are taking over.

[fantasyfan]

Gwendolen is not the most likeable character in the world but note that Eliot introduces her as the “Spoiled Child”. I think both terms are very significant in evaluating her. She is indeed spoiled. We see her gambling away money that would have been a godsend later if she had followed the advice of her companion. Gwendolen sees nothing wrong with Rex being in love with her as long as she doesn’t have to make any response. She teases her mother to the point of tears.

But she is also a child in that she lacks any real appreciation of the darkness of the world and is very vulnerable. We see this early on during her conversation with Grandcourt in Book 2. After each reply from Gwendolen Eliot immediately follows it with her character’s thoughts about Grandcourt. These inner responses show both her self-centred nature and her complete unawareness of the possible deadly consequences of marrying a powerful man twenty years her senior for whom she has no love but who does have the power to destroy the independence she so much values.

[poohbear_nc]

Originally Posted by fantasyfan

Gwendolen is not the most likeable character in the world but note that Eliot introduces her as the “Spoiled Child”. I think both terms are very significant in evaluating her. She is indeed spoiled. We see her gambling away money that would have been a godsend later if she had followed the advice of her companion. Gwendolen sees nothing wrong with Rex being in love with her as long as she doesn’t have to make any response. She teases her mother to the point of tears.

But she is also a child in that she lacks any real appreciation of the darkness of the world and is very vulnerable. We see this early on during her conversation with Grandcourt in Book 2. After each reply from Gwendolen Eliot immediately follows it with her character’s thoughts about Grandcourt. These inner responses show both her self-centred nature and her complete unawareness of the possible deadly consequences of marrying a powerful man twenty years her senior for whom she has no love but who does have the power to destroy the independence she so much values.

This stark difference in age and maturity and experience between these two make the idea of their marriage particularly hideous. Gwendolen is truly a child bride, completely clueless. Her survival and eventual adaptation to the marriage didn't really seem realistic to me, given Eliot's description of her thoughts and behavior.