Dear Mary Beth,
Whenever you post a letter (speaking of "post," isn't it funny that we call it "posting" on the Internet, and our beloved Victorian characters called it "posting" when they sent a letter?), I get very excited to reply but try to hold off for a bit so our posts are more evenly spaced out. This time around, though, I received a sudden job offer just as I was about to post, and I started my job so suddenly that lots of other things got neglected, including this blog. It's good to be back!
I'm going to pick up where you left off with the irrational way unions tend to negotiate with employers. I believe you said they "cut off their noses to spite their face." Northeast Ohio certainly isn't the only place to see that behavior firsthand, nor are unions the only perpetrators. We've been seeing a lot of such behavior on the national level with the budget crisis in Congress. In fact, it's been going on for so long and has been covered so extensively in the media, that I change the radio station as soon as I hear the words "budget crisis." I can only hope that the public takes note in time for election day. Isn't it interesting how we always seem to find some major issue in the Victorian novel at hand that has direct relevance today?
These six chapters of North and South are very pivotal and could probably be considered the turning point in many ways. First, we've got Mr. Thornton's dinner. He began planning this dinner, of course, before it became apparent that his workers would strike and his income would suffer. Now Marlborough Mills is quiet the evening of the dinner. Margaret gets to see Thornton in his element, surrounded by his peers, where is is most comfortable and appears to greater advantage, which she notices. Another thing Margaret notices while dining with tradespeople is their frank manner with each other, which she contrasts with the "artifice" of London society.
As you mentioned in your letter, Mr. Hale has no idea how ill his wife really is, but he finds out following Thornton's dinner (which she does not attend). This knowledge leads him to send Margaret to the Thorntons' for a water bed, which, it is hoped, will be good for Mrs. Hale. So the chain of events begins.
While Margaret is at the Thorntons', the famous riot scene takes place. This scene reveals, I think, two important things about Margaret. First, she's confused and meddling in affairs she doesn't understand. When the rioters approach Marlborough Mills, Margaret demands that Thornton face his workers "like a man," but as soon as he heads to the balcony, she calls after him to come back, concerned for his safety. After such a challenge from Margaret, though, Thornton can hardly do otherwise. The second thing we learn about Margaret is that her sense of right and wrong is overly simplistic. She thinks only of the here and now without thought of how things will play out over the long term. That's why she gave money and food to the Bouchers (which Thornton disagreed with, saying it would prolong the strike and thus everyone's suffering), and that's why she throws herself at Thronton during the riot in order to shield him. She seems to have no idea how much mischief she inadvertently causes.
Following the riot scene, of course, we have Thronton's proposal. Margaret, embarrassed at the rumors her behavior has started, responds quite harshly to poor Mr. Thornton. Of course, as Thornton is leaving, and Margaret can see that he's hurt, she regrets the pain she has caused. By now, Margaret's sense of right and wrong seems to be more like a desire for the world to be perfect--for everything to be how she wants it, and for everyone to be happy. She certainly has lived a very sheltered life and is learning a tough lesson about life outside the bubble.
Finally, in Chapter XXV, Margaret writes to Frederick, urging him to return home before their mother's death. Again, she wishes for Frederick's safe return to England and thinking that his "crime" must surely be forgotten by now. But her father emphasizes the danger Fred will be in. Her father also admits that while he was glad Margaret wrote to Fred, he (Mr. Hale) couldn't have done it himself. Once again, it seems, Mr. Hale is hesitant (unwilling, even) to take responsibility.
And so I have come full circle. I began this letter talking about letters, and now it ends with talk of a different letter. That's my cue to sign off.
Your Friend,
Amber
Monday, October 3, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
North and South, chapters XVII-XIX
Dear Amber,
It’s funny you should mention Margaret’s differing treatment of the Thorntons and the Higginses, because it’s something I was thinking about too. I think you’ve hit on it—she does see her visits to the Higginses as charity, doing her “Christian duty” by spending time with poor, sick Bessy and her family. At least, that’s how it starts, but Margaret actually grows to care about Bessy and Nicholas and seems to develop a real friendship with them.
I find it interesting that Gaskell has really made Margaret what I’ve been thinking of as a “transitional character.” Margaret is in a position to visit people in all walks of life without damage to her reputation. Mrs. Thornton likely would not be making calls on the Higgins family — it’s not her place. And Margaret’s cousin Edith would have been horrified at the prospect of visiting a poor factory worker’s home. But Margaret can take tea at the Thorntons’, read the Bible with Bessy Higgins, and attend fine society dinners as she did in London before Edith’s marriage, and as she does later on in the novel. Margaret is truly the “middle class” here.
By the way, I believe you’re right about the constant cycle of calls. With little else for refined and moderately wealthy women to do, visiting and being visited would give the women something to do and prepare for and talk about. Once again, I’m glad I’m a woman of the 21st century. I’m basically a homebody and would hate having to go out visiting all the time!
You mentioned the fickle nature of the Milton factory workers, which makes for a good transition into these next few chapters which deal with the strike. I reread the passage you talked about, with the workers wanting more wages to work in a factory with a fan—but I don’t think the workers are fickle. The reason they oppose the fans is because they’re used to inhaling fluff all day and it fills their stomachs so they’re not as hungry. Those who worked in factories with fans were going home hungry and wanted higher wages as compensation.
As we move into chapter 17, Margaret notices that there are a lot more people out and about and there’s a nervous energy in the air. When she reaches the Higginses, she is told that there is a strike in the works. Margaret, innocent of such things, asks what a strike is, and notes, in her prejudicial way, that such a thing was unlikely to happen in her idealized South (“I think they have too much sense.”). Nicholas is contemptuous of this and says that in the North, when the workers aren’t being treated fairly, they stand up for themselves. He explains that the masters seem to be getting quite prosperous, while the workers are still making the same wage they’d been earning for the past two years. And so the Milton workers are planning to strike to get the masters to share the wealth a bit more.
It seems fair enough, but ironically, ignorant Margaret hits the nail on the head as she suggests that maybe the masters have a good reason for not giving out higher wages and that maybe “the state of trade may be such as not to enable them” to give the workers higher wages.
In fact, in the very next chapter, as Mr. Thornton is discussing the state of affairs with his family, he notes that because of the abundance of American yarn in the market, the British mill owners have to sell at a lower rate — things aren’t as prosperous as the Milton workers seem to think. Mr. Thornton also announces his intention to hire cheap, Irish labor should his workers go through with the strike.
Now, this is why I often find myself feeling out of place in the highly pro-union Mahoning Valley. I tend to see both sides of the issue, much like Margaret in this instance. And it seems to me that when it comes to union contract negotiation, there’s a tendency to ignore the valid points the other side might be making—yes, it would be a hardship to have to start paying more for health insurance when you haven’t paid for it before, but at the same time, if the company doesn’t have the money to continue to pay for it, what are you going to do? You see the same back and forth in politics these days as well—the recent struggle over the budget—and it seems that both sides are too willing to cut off their noses to spite their face rather than give an inch to the person on the other side of the table.
But I’ll get off my soapbox now, and get back to our story. In the midst of the strike preparations, we’re also given accounts of several different sickbeds—Mrs. Hale, who’s much more tolerable in her dying state, I have to say, is far sicker than anyone had realized, and her end is approaching quickly. And I’m somewhat smugly satisfied that the true nature of Mrs. Hale’s condition is kept secret from her husband. Though Margaret says it’s for his own health and peace of mind, it brings to mind his own instance of keeping important information from his spouse.
Meanwhile, Bessy Higgins’ condition is worsening, and when Margaret spends another afternoon with her, she meets the Higginses’ neighbor, John Boucher, who is in a state of panic and despair regarding the upcoming strike — if he is without work due to the strike, his young children will starve to death. However, if he does not go along with the union, he will be shunned and his children will likely starve to death anyway. This is what’s really at stake here, and Nicholas acknowledges Boucher’s difficult position, but he says he’s thought about it from every angle, and the only thing he can do is trust in the union, have faith in the union and hope that Boucher will do the same.
As the visit ends, Margaret is very moved by the scene she has witnessed, and leaves money with Bessy for Boucher and his children, though Bessy assures her that they would not have let the Bouchers starve in any case. “If neighbours doesn’t see after neighbours, I dunno who will,” she tells Margaret.
And now, I’ve gotten long-winded again, so I’ll leave off here. As we’ve seen, both sides have a lot to lose should it come to a strike. I’ll let you take us through the drama that follows!
Yours sincerely,
Mary Beth
Friday, August 12, 2011
"North and South," Chapters XI-XVI
Dear Mary Beth,
I completely agree with you that Margaret's biggest flaw is her snobbery. She's a fairly strong character, breaking the news of her father's decision to her mother, handling the travel and housing arrangements for the family's move to Milton, and preparing for Mr. Thornton's visit without complaining of the work. She's certainly stronger than her mother, who reminds me of Mrs. Tulliver. Mrs. Hale likes to bring up her heritage, and the Beresfords seem to have been a prestigious family, worthy of more than what Mr. Hale has provided her with. I don't know that Mrs. Hale actually regrets her choice in a husband, but she sure does like to complain a lot, whether at Helstone or Milton.
I think Margaret's snobbery is hypocritical. As you mentioned, she accuses Mr. Thornton of seeing other people who have not made themselves successful as his enemies, when Margaret sees even people who have made themselves successful (Mr. Thornton) as her "enemies." Being that she won't even give Mr. Thornton a chance, it's very odd to me that she is so eager to befriend the Higginses. The only explanation I can think of is that she sees her visits with them as charity, as the same kind of visits she would have been responsible for paying to the poor and sick of Helstone as the parson's daughter. How very out of place she is in the North!
Chapter 11 gives us the Hales discussing Mr. Thornton after he has left. Mr. Hale fills in the details of Mr. Thornton's background--that his father not only died when John was young, but that he killed himself after getting in debt well over his head. The fact that Mr. Thornton spent years living on nothing just so he could repay his father's debts long after they had been discharged seems to impress Margaret but does not humble her or change her opinion of Mr. Thornton. She describes him as having an "iron nature," which I think is very accurate. At this point, I can't help but compare Mr. Thornton to Tom Tulliver.
Shortly after Thornton's dinner visit, his mother and sister call upon the Hales, which does nothing to improve the relations between the two families. Mrs. Thornton has, of course, been biased against Margaret (unwittingly) by her son, and Mrs. Hale is not the kind of person who will have much in common with a Thornton. Fanny, however, comes off the worst of the four, weak and spoiled, clearly sheltered from the hardship of Mr. Thornton's past. The entire visit is fraught with cattiness and tension, something that still happens today, even though women no longer have to "scheme" for a husband. Why is that?
Margaret continues her friendship with the Higginses, and a conversation she has with Bessy in Chapter 13 really struck me. Bessy explains that when she first became ill, she longed for down time to rest and lie around, but now that she has it, she misses being busy. She also explains how some of the mill owners attempted to install a fan in the mills to help with the dust (too late for poor Bessy), but that the workers demanded more pay. It wasn't clear if Margaret interpreted things the same way as I did, but Bessy makes the workers in Milton sound awfully fickle, as though they don't know what they want or what's best for them and just do and say things without thinking.
Of course, Mrs. Hale is now ill, and we find out in Chapter 16 that she's dying. I can't say I didn't see that coming. Mrs. Hale's illness brings her to finally explain Frederick's circumstances to Margaret (and the reader!), which indicated to me that he will become more important soon.
Margaret and Mr. Hale go to the Thorntons' to return Mrs. Thornton's visit (it seems to me to be an endless cycle of being visited and returning visits). Upon seeing Mr. Thornton's very large house, Margaret can't for the life of her understand why he wouldn't want to live in the country instead of right next to his mill. How she idealizes the South! Later that evening, when Mr. Thornton comes to see Mr. Hale, he and Margaret have a continuation of their earlier argument.
I think Margaret's biggest misconception when it comes to Mr. Thornton is that she thinks that everything he does is in pursuit of money, when in fact she doesn't understand at all how things work in the North. She doesn't seem to understand that unlike the landowners in the South, who are fairly secure in their property and wealth, manufacturers and tradesmen can lose everything very quickly if things take a bad turn. Mr. Thornton is of course concerned with keeping his mill running and profitable, but Margaret cannot see that that is in the best interest of everyone involved. As for the South, I am reminded of Middlemarch, where Dorothea Burke wants the landowners to improve their tenants' dwellings, and of a scene between Mr. Burke and one of his tenants--it is not a pleasant scene, and Mr. Burke almost kicks the tenant out. The South is no better than the North, just different.
Like you, I like the Thorntons--well, Mr. Thornton anyway, and to an extent, his mother. I think that Margaret, at this point, is right in the middle of a major education, and things will get more and more interesting as the strike approaches. I'll be interested to read what you have to say as the storm gathers.
Sincerely,
Amber
I completely agree with you that Margaret's biggest flaw is her snobbery. She's a fairly strong character, breaking the news of her father's decision to her mother, handling the travel and housing arrangements for the family's move to Milton, and preparing for Mr. Thornton's visit without complaining of the work. She's certainly stronger than her mother, who reminds me of Mrs. Tulliver. Mrs. Hale likes to bring up her heritage, and the Beresfords seem to have been a prestigious family, worthy of more than what Mr. Hale has provided her with. I don't know that Mrs. Hale actually regrets her choice in a husband, but she sure does like to complain a lot, whether at Helstone or Milton.
I think Margaret's snobbery is hypocritical. As you mentioned, she accuses Mr. Thornton of seeing other people who have not made themselves successful as his enemies, when Margaret sees even people who have made themselves successful (Mr. Thornton) as her "enemies." Being that she won't even give Mr. Thornton a chance, it's very odd to me that she is so eager to befriend the Higginses. The only explanation I can think of is that she sees her visits with them as charity, as the same kind of visits she would have been responsible for paying to the poor and sick of Helstone as the parson's daughter. How very out of place she is in the North!
Chapter 11 gives us the Hales discussing Mr. Thornton after he has left. Mr. Hale fills in the details of Mr. Thornton's background--that his father not only died when John was young, but that he killed himself after getting in debt well over his head. The fact that Mr. Thornton spent years living on nothing just so he could repay his father's debts long after they had been discharged seems to impress Margaret but does not humble her or change her opinion of Mr. Thornton. She describes him as having an "iron nature," which I think is very accurate. At this point, I can't help but compare Mr. Thornton to Tom Tulliver.
Shortly after Thornton's dinner visit, his mother and sister call upon the Hales, which does nothing to improve the relations between the two families. Mrs. Thornton has, of course, been biased against Margaret (unwittingly) by her son, and Mrs. Hale is not the kind of person who will have much in common with a Thornton. Fanny, however, comes off the worst of the four, weak and spoiled, clearly sheltered from the hardship of Mr. Thornton's past. The entire visit is fraught with cattiness and tension, something that still happens today, even though women no longer have to "scheme" for a husband. Why is that?
Margaret continues her friendship with the Higginses, and a conversation she has with Bessy in Chapter 13 really struck me. Bessy explains that when she first became ill, she longed for down time to rest and lie around, but now that she has it, she misses being busy. She also explains how some of the mill owners attempted to install a fan in the mills to help with the dust (too late for poor Bessy), but that the workers demanded more pay. It wasn't clear if Margaret interpreted things the same way as I did, but Bessy makes the workers in Milton sound awfully fickle, as though they don't know what they want or what's best for them and just do and say things without thinking.
Of course, Mrs. Hale is now ill, and we find out in Chapter 16 that she's dying. I can't say I didn't see that coming. Mrs. Hale's illness brings her to finally explain Frederick's circumstances to Margaret (and the reader!), which indicated to me that he will become more important soon.
Margaret and Mr. Hale go to the Thorntons' to return Mrs. Thornton's visit (it seems to me to be an endless cycle of being visited and returning visits). Upon seeing Mr. Thornton's very large house, Margaret can't for the life of her understand why he wouldn't want to live in the country instead of right next to his mill. How she idealizes the South! Later that evening, when Mr. Thornton comes to see Mr. Hale, he and Margaret have a continuation of their earlier argument.
I think Margaret's biggest misconception when it comes to Mr. Thornton is that she thinks that everything he does is in pursuit of money, when in fact she doesn't understand at all how things work in the North. She doesn't seem to understand that unlike the landowners in the South, who are fairly secure in their property and wealth, manufacturers and tradesmen can lose everything very quickly if things take a bad turn. Mr. Thornton is of course concerned with keeping his mill running and profitable, but Margaret cannot see that that is in the best interest of everyone involved. As for the South, I am reminded of Middlemarch, where Dorothea Burke wants the landowners to improve their tenants' dwellings, and of a scene between Mr. Burke and one of his tenants--it is not a pleasant scene, and Mr. Burke almost kicks the tenant out. The South is no better than the North, just different.
Like you, I like the Thorntons--well, Mr. Thornton anyway, and to an extent, his mother. I think that Margaret, at this point, is right in the middle of a major education, and things will get more and more interesting as the strike approaches. I'll be interested to read what you have to say as the storm gathers.
Sincerely,
Amber
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
North and South, Chapters V-X
Dear Amber,
I also have the “North and South” miniseries in my Netflix queue. I’m not quite done with the book yet – it’s my bedtime book, and it always seems to take me a little longer to get through a book that way. However, I’m well-prepared to talk about the next few chapters.
We left off when Mr. Hale has told Margaret about his decision to leave the church, and we pick up with Margaret bracing herself to tell her mother of their impending move. I have to say, I’m not particularly fond of Margaret, but I do admire the way she doesn’t procrastinate when she’s got something disagreeable to do. I’d torment myself for a while, imagining worst-case scenarios and mourning over the impending move, but Margaret gets her job over with as soon as possible, telling her mother the bad news almost as soon as her father leaves the house.
Again, this chapter emphasizes Mr. Hale’s cowardice. In your last letter, you said that Mr. Hale reminded you of Mr. Bennett from “Pride and Prejudice,” but I don’t think Mr. Bennett is cowardly. Lazy and self-indulgent, yes, but I can’t see him avoiding Mrs. Bennett for a whole day and making Elizabeth tell her something disagreeable. I’m reminded of Lizzy’s refusal of Mr. Collins and Mr. Bennett’s defense of her decision. In the same situation, Mr. Hale would have hemmed and hawed and told her that maybe she was being too hasty, and it would make her poor mother happy if she would just accept Mr. Collins’ offer.
Two chapters later, we’ve moved North, and Margaret gets her first glimpse of Milton, gray and smoky with its factories and rows of identical houses, as I imagine it. I can’t help thinking of some of the winter drives I made to Youngstown when we were still in school – those leaden skies and abandoned mills. Though it wasn’t all that long ago that Youngstown and Warren would’ve been our equivalent to Milton, with booming industry and crowded suburbs.
Margaret and the reader also meet Mr. Thornton for the first time in this chapter. Margaret doesn’t make the best first impression on Mr. Thornton, and frankly, this is where she really started to irritate me, too. As I mentioned before, in the first few chapters, Margaret comes across as too perfect. In this chapter we see her major flaw – she’s a huge snob. Though her father’s decision to leave the church has left her in far more reduced circumstances than she’s used to, she considers herself superior to Mr. Thornton, a self-made man, a wealthy man … but a tradesman! Now, I’ve been in Margaret’s situation, when you’re tired and not in the mood for company but have to be polite to someone who’s dropped by, but Margaret later reveals that Mr. Thornton’s impression that she looked down on him was entirely accurate.
The female Hales have a hard time settling down in Milton. Mrs. Hale finds that the “bad air” of Helstone is vastly preferable to the smoky air of Milton. And Margaret is put off by the attitude of over-familiarity that the factory workers of Milton seemed to have. However, this freedom of speech and familiarity is what introduces her to Nicholas and Bessy Higgins. Nicholas Higgins comments on her pretty face, and she’s struck by his own careworn face and later, by his clearly ill daughter Bessy. Interestingly, Margaret is friendlier to the Higginses than she is to Mr. Thornton — perhaps it’s because the Higginses “know their place” and recognize the class differences between them, while Mr. Thornton has, in Margaret’s eyes, set himself as an equal to the Hales, or perhaps, due to his wealth, above them.
The difference in Margaret’s attitude to these new people she has met in Milton is emphasized in the next chapters, as Mr. Thornton is invited to tea. While Gaskell writes that Margaret’s interest in the Higginses makes Milton more tolerable to her, she still disdains the company of Mr. Thornton. And it’s this attitude that causes Mr. Thornton’s rather intimidating mother to dislike Margaret before even meeting her.
I have to say, I like the Thorntons. Mr. Thornton is like a working man’s Mr. Darcy, but Mrs. Thornton is by no means a Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She takes a fierce pride in her son, though she might not show it through huge outpourings of affection. The Thorntons are who they are and don’t pretend to be otherwise.
During Mr. Thornton’s visit, he and Margaret get into a brief verbal dispute—taken far more seriously by Margaret—about the differences between the North and the South. As you mentioned in your letter, Northerners, represented here by Mr. Thornton, value hard work and the success that accompanies it. Margaret’s defense of the South seems to be that the poor people of the South are better off than those working for a living in Mr. Thornton’s mills. When she accuses him of making enemies of those who cannot achieve success, he gently corrects her by saying that those who are unsuccessful are not his enemies, but their own, and that if they are unhappy or impoverished, it’s because they were too self-indulgent at a previous point in their lives.
I don’t think either Margaret or Mr. Thornton have it quite right here. There are all too many examples of people who are born poor, live poor and die poor, despite any and all efforts to break the cycle. Salon had a great article this week about how our society, in recent years, has begun to criminalize poverty.
And Margaret is over-romanticizing the poor people of the South. In “Our Mutual Friend,” we read about the watermen of London whose job was fishing usable things from the river, including bodies. And we’ve both learned about the conditions in which the children of London – chimney sweeps and urchins – lived. Surely these people were as miserable, if not more so, than the workers in Milton.
I’ve gotten super longwinded this time, so I’ll quit here. What are your thoughts on the Thorntons, and Margaret and Mr. Thornton’s argument, which we return to throughout the book?
Yours sincerely,
Mary Beth
Friday, July 29, 2011
"North and South," response to chapters I-IV
Dear Mary Beth,
I'm so glad you've posted already! I finished North and South two nights ago and have been eager to discuss it. I was planning on posting as I read the book (and pacing myself!), but alas, that didn't happen. I ended up racing through the novel and neglecting other things pretty badly. Then, when I finally decided to post, I realized that Eric had taken the iPad on his out-of-town trip, and I had read it as an ebook on our nifty little tablet (I wasn't able to find it in print from either of my usual outlets--the bookstore or the library, oddly enough). Fortunately, I had the wisdom to take notes for the first 12 chapters before I let myself get lost in the book.
I'd like to add a bit to your discussion of the title. I read that Elizabeth Gaskell had originally titled the novel Margaret Hale, but the publisher suggested North and South as a more appropriate title. I couldn't agree more. Not only does the title refer to the two main charters--Margaret represents the ways of the South while Mr. Thornton represents the North--but it highlights how different two regions of one country can be. I honestly never thought about it myself before, that the South was more fixated on the aristocracy and inherited wealth, while the North favored earning a higher rank in society through hard work. It makes sense, and I'm glad I read this novel if only to learn that one little thing.
It took me a while to really get into North and South. By starting out with Edith's wedding, and with Edith being such a flake, I was wondering what kind of novel this would be. Then Henry Lennox's proposal! I was quite surprised to come across a proposal so early on, and I though Henry would become the "love interest," but then his character seemed to fade into the background, as did Edith.
You mentioned the similarity between North and South and Pride and Prejudice (even the titles have parallels!); I noticed that immediately as well. In fact, my first reaction upon finishing the novel was that North and South was a rip-off of Pride and Prejudice, but I think the former is too complex to make that a fair judgement. You mentioned finding Mrs. Shaw similar to Mrs. Bennett, which I honestly had not thought of. I had, however, immediately compared Mr. Hale to Mr. Bennett in that they're both weak and unable or unwilling to deal with their own responsibility (Mr. Bennett and Lydia, Mr. Hale and his decision to leave the Church). But I found another novel to compare North and South to, at least in some ways: The Mill on the Floss. To me, Mrs. Hale is a pre-existing version of Mrs. Tulliver. Both women married men who disappointed them later in life, and both women dishonored their families and themselves by failing to take responsibility for their decisions and make the best of their situations. Instead, both women make their daughters miserable, albeit Mrs. Tulliver moreso than Mrs. Hale.
Speaking of Mr. Hale's decision to leave the Church, I found that part incredibly confusing. Upon doing some minor research (Wikipedia, I admit it), I found out that Elizabeth Gaskell's husband did the same thing upon converting to a Unitarian. I felt much more comfortable with the novel upon learning that, and it added a bit of scandal to the Hales' situation as well. Mr. Hale's religious doubts weren't the only thing I found confusing, though. What is the deal with Frederick's mutiny and following exile? I became more comfortable with this aspect of the novel as well once it was explained, but I still find it an odd side-plot.
Finally, I wholeheartedly agree with your suggestion that this is a novel best read through a Marxist lens. I, too, often default to a feminist reading of just about everything, but there simply wasn't much to go on in North and South (although I got really sick of all Margaret's crying by the end of the novel, sheesh). Marxism, on the other hand, is all over the place. I don't know how anyone could read North and South without focusing on the labor, class, and social-status issues, and I think this is the aspect of the book that I enjoyed the most. In fact, I have always been fascinated by both gender and class issues, whether in literature, film, or modern-day life. I just find them so pervasive, and it is particularly so in North and South.
Well, I knew this was going to be a long post, but I really was hoping to do more than just respond to your points on the first four chapters. North and South seems to get more and more complex as I think about it, and I think it is an excellent choice for our blog, especially as a follow-up to Shirley. I've been meaning to read this novel for years now (ever since Dr. Gergits's Victorian lit class), and Netflix has been suggesting the 2004 BBC mini-series to me for about as long. I've resisted thus far, though sorely tempted, but am happy to say that having finished the novel, I'm finally off to start watching the mini-series. Let's hope we get further into the novel in laters posts than we did in the first round!
Your Friend,
Amber
I'm so glad you've posted already! I finished North and South two nights ago and have been eager to discuss it. I was planning on posting as I read the book (and pacing myself!), but alas, that didn't happen. I ended up racing through the novel and neglecting other things pretty badly. Then, when I finally decided to post, I realized that Eric had taken the iPad on his out-of-town trip, and I had read it as an ebook on our nifty little tablet (I wasn't able to find it in print from either of my usual outlets--the bookstore or the library, oddly enough). Fortunately, I had the wisdom to take notes for the first 12 chapters before I let myself get lost in the book.
I'd like to add a bit to your discussion of the title. I read that Elizabeth Gaskell had originally titled the novel Margaret Hale, but the publisher suggested North and South as a more appropriate title. I couldn't agree more. Not only does the title refer to the two main charters--Margaret represents the ways of the South while Mr. Thornton represents the North--but it highlights how different two regions of one country can be. I honestly never thought about it myself before, that the South was more fixated on the aristocracy and inherited wealth, while the North favored earning a higher rank in society through hard work. It makes sense, and I'm glad I read this novel if only to learn that one little thing.
It took me a while to really get into North and South. By starting out with Edith's wedding, and with Edith being such a flake, I was wondering what kind of novel this would be. Then Henry Lennox's proposal! I was quite surprised to come across a proposal so early on, and I though Henry would become the "love interest," but then his character seemed to fade into the background, as did Edith.
You mentioned the similarity between North and South and Pride and Prejudice (even the titles have parallels!); I noticed that immediately as well. In fact, my first reaction upon finishing the novel was that North and South was a rip-off of Pride and Prejudice, but I think the former is too complex to make that a fair judgement. You mentioned finding Mrs. Shaw similar to Mrs. Bennett, which I honestly had not thought of. I had, however, immediately compared Mr. Hale to Mr. Bennett in that they're both weak and unable or unwilling to deal with their own responsibility (Mr. Bennett and Lydia, Mr. Hale and his decision to leave the Church). But I found another novel to compare North and South to, at least in some ways: The Mill on the Floss. To me, Mrs. Hale is a pre-existing version of Mrs. Tulliver. Both women married men who disappointed them later in life, and both women dishonored their families and themselves by failing to take responsibility for their decisions and make the best of their situations. Instead, both women make their daughters miserable, albeit Mrs. Tulliver moreso than Mrs. Hale.
Speaking of Mr. Hale's decision to leave the Church, I found that part incredibly confusing. Upon doing some minor research (Wikipedia, I admit it), I found out that Elizabeth Gaskell's husband did the same thing upon converting to a Unitarian. I felt much more comfortable with the novel upon learning that, and it added a bit of scandal to the Hales' situation as well. Mr. Hale's religious doubts weren't the only thing I found confusing, though. What is the deal with Frederick's mutiny and following exile? I became more comfortable with this aspect of the novel as well once it was explained, but I still find it an odd side-plot.
Finally, I wholeheartedly agree with your suggestion that this is a novel best read through a Marxist lens. I, too, often default to a feminist reading of just about everything, but there simply wasn't much to go on in North and South (although I got really sick of all Margaret's crying by the end of the novel, sheesh). Marxism, on the other hand, is all over the place. I don't know how anyone could read North and South without focusing on the labor, class, and social-status issues, and I think this is the aspect of the book that I enjoyed the most. In fact, I have always been fascinated by both gender and class issues, whether in literature, film, or modern-day life. I just find them so pervasive, and it is particularly so in North and South.
Well, I knew this was going to be a long post, but I really was hoping to do more than just respond to your points on the first four chapters. North and South seems to get more and more complex as I think about it, and I think it is an excellent choice for our blog, especially as a follow-up to Shirley. I've been meaning to read this novel for years now (ever since Dr. Gergits's Victorian lit class), and Netflix has been suggesting the 2004 BBC mini-series to me for about as long. I've resisted thus far, though sorely tempted, but am happy to say that having finished the novel, I'm finally off to start watching the mini-series. Let's hope we get further into the novel in laters posts than we did in the first round!
Your Friend,
Amber
Thursday, July 28, 2011
"North and South," Chapters I-IV
Dear Amber,
Upon hearing that the next selection for our Victorian books blog was “North and South,” my husband assumed that it was about the Civil War. I explained that having been published between 1854-55, the Civil War hadn’t even taken place yet. But I imagine that’s a misconception a lot of people might have about this book, especially since John Jakes wrote a book in 1982 called “North and South” that was about the Civil War and was later turned into a popular miniseries.
The reason I start out talking about misconceptions is that Elizabeth Gaskell begins her book in a way that could easily lead the reader to misunderstand what the book is about. We meet our main character, Margaret Hale, living with her well-off aunt and cousin, helping with the preparations for her cousin Edith’s wedding. It’s a scene that wouldn’t be out of place in a Jane Austen novel — in fact, Aunt Shaw is reminiscent of Mrs. Bennett in “Pride and Prejudice,” with her imagined complaints and her skewed view of marriage and romance. (Be warned, this won’t be the last time you’ll hear me comparing “N&S” to “P&P” — despite the fact that we picked this book due to its similarities to “Shirley,” I keep finding myself thinking, “This is a lot like ‘P&P.’”)
However, the wedding takes place off stage, and Margaret is quickly whisked away to her parents’ home in Helstone (a place not to be confused with Caroline Helstone, with whom we spent so much time while reading “Shirley”). At Helstone, Margaret lives much more modestly than she did as companion to her cousin for so many years, but she seems not to care too much for the fashionable society she left behind and is happy to be home and reunited with her parents.
Things aren’t as blissful at home as she had imagined, though, since her father, a minister, is distracted and troubled by some unknown worry, and her mother is constantly complaining about Helstone and its “poor air.”
Margaret is hardly settled in before Mr. Henry Lennox, brother to her cousin Edith’s new husband, arrives for a visit and ultimately declares his love for Margaret and proposes marriage. Astounded by this, Margaret refuses him none too gently, and Mr. Lennox leaves, hurt, but unconvinced that Margaret is completely indifferent to him.
Here we have fodder for an entire novel — the contrast between life in London and life as the daughter of a country preacher; a suitor scorned, but who may yet convince his lady to reconsider. It’s “Sense and Sensibility” meets “Pride and Prejudice.” But we’re only on chapter IV, and Gaskell hasn’t even sprung the true plot of the book on us yet! See what I mean about misconceptions?
The true plot of the book begins while Margaret is still reeling from Mr. Lennox’s unexpected proposal. (Unexpected to Margaret only, I have to say. I knew as soon as Mr. Lennox appeared in chapter I that he was in love with Margaret.) Margaret’s father, Mr. Hale, confesses to her that he has been having doubts, so he can no longer be a minister and the family will be leaving Helstone in two weeks’ time for the factory town of Milton-Northern, where Mr. Hale would work as a tutor.
What?
I was so perplexed by Mr. Hale’s vague description of his reasons for leaving the ministry that I did something I almost never do when reading Victorian literature: I read the introduction. Rather, I skimmed it to find an explanation for Mr. Hale’s behavior.
I usually don’t read introductions because they’re full of spoilers. Yes, I realize that “N&S” was written a century and a half ago, but the first time I read a book, I do want to be surprised as I go along, and the intros to classic books tend to give everything away. But this time, I needed more information. Alas, my introduction was at first less than helpful: “It is not important to know exactly what Mr. Hale’s doubts were …” But it explained that Mr. Hale considered himself aligned with the Dissenters of the 17th and 18th centuries, and that his beliefs seemed to lean toward Unitarianism, not Anglicanism, which was why he could no longer be a minister in the Church of England.
Once Mr. Hale has dropped his bombshell on Margaret, he asks something of her that I consider cowardly and inexcusable: he wants Margaret to tell Mrs. Hale that they’re leaving Helstone. He has come to the decision to uproot his family without consulting them. He is moving them to a less desirable place where they will live in reduced circumstances, and he has the nerve to ask his daughter to be the one to break the news to his wife.
I have to say, at this point in the book, I don’t have a very high opinion of any of the characters. Mr. Hale is spineless. Mrs. Hale is whiny, as is Aunt Shaw. Edith is spoiled. And Margaret is too perfect and innocent. I liked Henry Lennox, but he’s gone to lick his wounds after Margaret’s refusal.
But despite Gaskell’s misdirection in the first chapters and my grievances with the characters, I’m really enjoying “N&S.”
So what are your thoughts on the beginning of “N&S?” And have you settled on a critical perspective to view the book through? I can’t seem to get a handle on my usual feminist perspective — Margaret doesn’t strike me as a feminist heroine. I suppose a Marxist perspective would be the most logical choice. What do you think?
I’m looking forward to our discussions of this book!
Yours sincerely,
Mary Beth
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Ending of "Shirley"
Dear Mary Beth,
I'll give my reflections on the ending of Shirley by discussing the fates of its two main characters, Shirley and Caroline.
You mentioned that part of Shirley's disappointment in Robert's proposal was because she was probably aware of Caroline's feelings for Robert. I agree with you. Shirley and Caroline know each other quite well by the end of the novel. And Caroline seems to be the only person (other than Shirley) who sees Shirley's feelings for Louis. Caroline tells Robert, in Chapter 35 when he's confessing to his proposal to Shirley, that she thinks Shirley is in love with someone who has not yet made Shirley an offer. Clearly Caroline is referring to Louis. If Caroline can pick up on Shirley's feelings for Louis after such a short time, then surely Shirley is aware of Caroline's feelings for Robert, which have been obvious for the entire novel.
As for Shirley and Louis's relationship, I suppose I see things a bit differently than you do. I don't think Louis sees himself as unworthy of Shirley (at least, no moreso than any Victorian man sees himself as unworthy of the woman he loves); rather, I think Louis is painfully aware of the class/fortune differences between the two, and the likely objection of Shirley's uncle to such a match (and geez, is he right, yikes). Louis always seemed to me to be very self-confident, self-aware, and socially aware, not to mention very intelligent. As for Shirley, I don't see her as giving up her purpose to marry Louis. Sure, she backs off on the running of Fieldhead, as she confesses to Louis after they're married, but I think she did that to give Louis a chance to step up and be seen as her equal by the people at Fieldhead and in the community. I imagine the two of them running the show together before long.
As for Caroline's fate, it reminds me quite a bit of Jane Eyre's. Both women long for more than an ordinary life but end up in seemingly ordinary endings with their husbands. I find both endings a bit difficult to reconcile with the feminist messages that precede them. However, I tell myself that Charlotte Bronte felt the need to give the reader happy endings to sort of sugar-coat her message. At the same time, Robert indicates that he hopes to build up the community around his mill should he continue to be successful, and that Caroline will teach Sunday school, and Caroline and Shirley may someday run a day school for the children of Robert's workers. I think such an arrangement would suit both women particularly well, especially given some of the points you have made about their characters.
Feel free to have another go at the ending of Shirley. There's no such thing as being done discussing something when it comes to Charlotte Bronte! On the other hand, there's also the burning question, what do we read and discuss next? I'll leave the choice up to you!
Your Sincere Friend,
Amber
I'll give my reflections on the ending of Shirley by discussing the fates of its two main characters, Shirley and Caroline.
You mentioned that part of Shirley's disappointment in Robert's proposal was because she was probably aware of Caroline's feelings for Robert. I agree with you. Shirley and Caroline know each other quite well by the end of the novel. And Caroline seems to be the only person (other than Shirley) who sees Shirley's feelings for Louis. Caroline tells Robert, in Chapter 35 when he's confessing to his proposal to Shirley, that she thinks Shirley is in love with someone who has not yet made Shirley an offer. Clearly Caroline is referring to Louis. If Caroline can pick up on Shirley's feelings for Louis after such a short time, then surely Shirley is aware of Caroline's feelings for Robert, which have been obvious for the entire novel.
As for Shirley and Louis's relationship, I suppose I see things a bit differently than you do. I don't think Louis sees himself as unworthy of Shirley (at least, no moreso than any Victorian man sees himself as unworthy of the woman he loves); rather, I think Louis is painfully aware of the class/fortune differences between the two, and the likely objection of Shirley's uncle to such a match (and geez, is he right, yikes). Louis always seemed to me to be very self-confident, self-aware, and socially aware, not to mention very intelligent. As for Shirley, I don't see her as giving up her purpose to marry Louis. Sure, she backs off on the running of Fieldhead, as she confesses to Louis after they're married, but I think she did that to give Louis a chance to step up and be seen as her equal by the people at Fieldhead and in the community. I imagine the two of them running the show together before long.
As for Caroline's fate, it reminds me quite a bit of Jane Eyre's. Both women long for more than an ordinary life but end up in seemingly ordinary endings with their husbands. I find both endings a bit difficult to reconcile with the feminist messages that precede them. However, I tell myself that Charlotte Bronte felt the need to give the reader happy endings to sort of sugar-coat her message. At the same time, Robert indicates that he hopes to build up the community around his mill should he continue to be successful, and that Caroline will teach Sunday school, and Caroline and Shirley may someday run a day school for the children of Robert's workers. I think such an arrangement would suit both women particularly well, especially given some of the points you have made about their characters.
Feel free to have another go at the ending of Shirley. There's no such thing as being done discussing something when it comes to Charlotte Bronte! On the other hand, there's also the burning question, what do we read and discuss next? I'll leave the choice up to you!
Your Sincere Friend,
Amber
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