"Cuz this here is real!!" -- George Eliot (I swear she said it...ok, maybe I'm paraphrasing)

Among the selections from the “Backgrounds” section of George Eliot’s Middlemarch, there are letters from the author to others, as well as chapter excerpts. I didn’t necessarily choose to examine on of each but two selections particularly stood out.

SNL "Scared Straight" This here is real! Know what I'm sayin!?

George Eliot’s excerpt, From Amos Barton: Chapter V, is just that: a simple excerpt. I found it very useful to have access to something like this as it better helps us recognize Eliot’s style. Based on the information I discovered when researching this author for my presentation, I learned that one of unique things Eliot did in her writing was step into the narrative and disrupt it with her own insights and casting judgment upon characters, situations, and society. In this excerpt from her short story, Eliot does just that. All that she really does here in this selection is say Rev. Amos Barton is an ordinary guy and if you can’t deal with that then read one of the other books the newspaper is promoting because…”THIS HERE! THIS HERE IS REAL!!” (pardon my SNL-quoting-turrets).

This excerpt, while it represents Eliot’s affinity for interjecting “on behalf of a man who was so very far from remarkable,” also presents itself as an example of the realism Eliot is known for. Amos Barton is a realist character; “unmistakably commonplace.” She argues that men in real life are not so extraordinary but simply human. “Yet these commonplace people…have their unspoken sorrows, and their sacred joys; … is there not a pathos in their very insignificance…?” Eliot suggests that through realism, we shall experience the  human soul.

The other selection that intrigued me was George Eliot’s Letter to Sara Sophia Hennell (Foleshill, 9 October 1843). I find it interesting that we are made to read more of Eliot’s writings. Wouldn’t it be beneficial to see letters to the famous author so as we might get a glimpse into what her writing inspires within others? Instead, it’s like we get to hear more about Eliot’s opinions and outlook on life and society as if we aren’t already reading about it through Middlemarch. Not that I’m really complaining…it’s an interesting perspective to read about. Especially after having researched George Eliot’s history, I found this letter interesting as it reflected realizations she had growing up. What I found most notable was Eliot’s regard with individual beliefs and the pressure of society. She grew up a pious young lady until she met freethinkers, philosophers, theologists, etc…people who opened her eyes and caused doubts within herself. These doubts led to her revealing to her father that she no longer supported the Christian religion. This created a great rift in their relationship. From this sort of experience, I wonder, if she came to this conclusion: “The results of nonconformity in a family are just an epitome of what happens on a larger scale in the world.” I believe it is these sort of philosophies—is that what I should call them?—which drive Eliot to be a great realist writer; to present these ideas to the public through a tolerable but realist narrative. While she does write pious characters such as Dorothea, Eliot’s is determined to be the realist she will be known for. She asks: “…how are we to do anything toward the advancement of mankind? Are we to go on cherishing superstitions out of fear that seems inconsistent with any faith in a Supreme Being?” She answers that instead we me must be good and do good, moral deeds.

Modern Criticism of Mary Barton

I just want to open with my silly frustration at the fact that the modern reviews of Mary Barton are longer than most of 19^th century reviews. Why? Why is that?! Because it’s an older book now there’s suddenly so much more to say?? Or is it because there’s more space to fill in the papers with book reviews nowadays? Grrr! Haha!

So because of the lengthy reviews, I chose to only discuss one of them instead of two or three. John Lucas seemed to have several things to say about Mary Barton and other reviewer’s opinions. The criticism I chose to focus on was Lucas’ discussion of [Carson’s Murder and the Inadequacy of Hope in Mary Barton]. In this selection, Lucas looks at Gaskell’s work in neither a positive or negative light. I assume he didn’t ‘take sides’ because he was writing in the 1960s and Gaskell’s portrayal of the British upper and lower class has influence on his personal life, unlike those reviewers back then who were likely to be condemning Gaskell because they were the mill-owners she wrote ill of. Therefore his analysis of Mary Barton is as objective as a modern critic might expect to be. He speaks well of Gaskell and her novel, except when it comes to her motivations in writing Carson’s murder. He acknowledges her political agenda in referencing liberalism but he does not condemn her for it. Instead he says, “Mary Barton is a remarkable novel because it so powerfully suggests the guilt at which all liberalism must eventually connive, and which therefore requires Mrs. Gaskell to put it behind her with a resoluteness for which few liberals would feel the need: …” (501-502). Thus Lucas approaches a topic of which we’re familiar with discussing: Gaskell’s sense of resolution and presentation of social solutions.

Now I could reiterate that question here and ask you, if Gaskell provided viable solutions to the social problems present in her novel. But it’s a bit of an open-ended question, isn’t it? Because Mary Barton was a novel focused on a group of individuals and their experiences within the system. Who can fault that description? It’s basically the bare bones of several novels, isn’t it? Therefore, I propose we assert that John Barton and Carson Jr. and Sr. are meant to be representations of both ends of the spectrum. Gaskell sets them up for the best and worst circumstances; the best being Carson Sr.’s forgiveness and reform, and Barton’s death rather than imprisonment; the worst being Harry Carson’s murder. Still…they are characters in a unique story, “even if Carson’s reform is genuine it is a purely individual matter, whereas one side of Mrs. Gaskell certainly hopes it will emerge as a general recommendation” (504).

I’m sure we can agree that Mary Barton took an interesting turn when Harry Carson was murdered. Suddenly it wasn’t a social problem novel so much as a murder mystery. Did Gaskell always intend for this plot/genre shift? Or was Harry Carson’s murder and the following investigation a cop out after realizing the hopelessness of everyone’s situation? Lucas thinks “There can be little doubt that Mrs. Gaskell always intended the murder to happen” (502). Okay. I suppose I can get on board with that. It makes sense that a hopeless situation escalate to murder…in this context (!) with the pressure of Chartist unions upon you. But Lucas has a point that Gaskell looks to the murder to make her way out of the complex web of industry life she’s portrayed. What’s great about Lucas’ review is that he both agrees and disagrees with fellow critics. Where one critic says the murder was too dramatic and was used as a fall back for Gaskell, Lucas asserts a sort of representative point of view which fits the story better as a “dramatisation of the fear of violence which was widespread among the upper and middle classes at the time” (502). Then it seems that Gaskell is hoping to follow a pattern: “class antagonism producing a violence from which springs reconciliation” (503). That’s a totally logical pattern. But does it only work in books or movies?

John Barton dies and Mr. Carson forgives him; his “forgiveness and vow of reform seem to represent a triumph for the best hopes of liberalism” (503). Perhaps that was Gaskell’s intention. If she can’t propose specific solutions, she can at least provide hope. However, according to Lucas’ review, it’s not enough.

Gaskell, Elizabeth. Mary Barton. Ed Thomas Recchio: A Norton Critical Edition. New York: W. W. Norton, 2008. Print.

Contemporary Reviews of Mary Barton: Summary and Analysis

I decided to look at three reviews: an unsigned review from the Manchester Literary Times (1848), John Forster’s review from the Examiner (1848) and a piece from Manchester in 1844: Its Present Condition and Future Prospects by Leon M. Faucher (obviously published in 1844). I figured a few reviews were bound to be similar in discussing Mary Barton. That’s why I decided to include Faucher’s review. Unlike the first two reviews, which spoke well of the novel and its anonymous author, Faucher seemed instead to use Mary Barton as a platform on which to write his own political/economical/social commentary of England’s society and industry. “When the evils connected with its industry were first brought to light, efforts were made to divert public attention from the subject and…the existence of these evils was denied.” The only way one might even deduce that Mary Barton had anything to do with Faucher’s ‘review’ is because it can be seen as an example of breaking through the delusion and exposing said evils of industry in manufacturing towns. The anonymous and Forster’s review, like I previously said, were favorable and more focused on the story of Mary Barton, how it was told, and who could’ve possibly written it. They recognized Gaskell’s goal as Forster claims, “fiction may be allowed to enter where philosophy cannot well find its way.” And that is why some reviewers, like Forster recommended Mary Barton.

I suppose for my analysis I’m choosing to focus on the idea of Gaskell’s anonymity when she first published this novel. As we learned from our classmate’s presentation on Elizabeth Gaskell, as a first-time novelist, she published Mary Barton anonymously in case the novel was received poorly. If anything, her standing as a debut author is recognized as the unsigned reviewer from the Manchester Literary Times claims “the writer [is] new to the world of literature.” While there were mixed reviews, Forster’s and the unsigned review were positive and spoke well of the author. Quite a few reviewers attempted to determine the identity of the author. The unsigned reviewer instead notes the “evidence of much higher capacity on the part of the author” but seems unsure as to the gender—which was likely to be a deciding factor on how Mary Barton was received. Henry Fothergill Chorley is among said reviewers, in assuming the author is a “(he?)”. Forster makes the opposite conclusion: “Unquestionably the book is a woman’s.” He claims to have deduced this fact through casual remarks and how the characters of women and children are dealt with. He also makes guesses at Gaskell’s identity by assuming she is “more than ordinarily familiar” with towns like Manchester and the workpeople social class. Forster was open-minded to a female author as she wielded a great power with the sympathies, something a female writer might be better at. While both reviewers, Forster and the unsigned reviewer, seemed preoccupied with determining the identity of the author, they did not allow it to cloud their judgment as they reviewed her novel. And while Forster was keen to assert that the book was not made to be a political novel, it definitely seemed to be an important social matter in determining the gender of the writer who would dare—in the best of ways—to publish a novel which touched so boldly on the current social issues between the middle and working class.

Gaskell, Elizabeth. Mary Barton. Ed Thomas Recchio: A Norton Critical Edition. New York: W. W. Norton, 2008. Print.