There is so much hype around this book that I had no idea what to expect. The loftiest praise for any book from any legit source falls on Middlemarch, labelling it the best English novel. There are variations of this praise: the best British novel, the best novel written in English, the best novel (DOT).
It is difficult to start reading this book and wipe those praises out of your memory. I believe that the reader should read without prejudice from the very first page, and make her own judgement afterwards. For me, I prefer the cutting prose of Maugham, the anger of James Baldwin, the cynicism of Thackeray and the meanderings of Henry Miller. But to me, Middlemarch is one of the best written novels in English technically, and the more I read Eliot, the more I will be attached to her style of writing.
Eliot’s style is simple, highly readable and weaves from one scene to the next within the same chapter without the reader much noticing it. It is a fantastic way to deliver a story — exploring one character’s dynamic with another within the same chapter, while driving the story forward. But is there really a story? Middlemarch is after all, “A Study in Provincial Life”.
The novel has no fulcrum of a central character, and instead this honour falls to four main characters who are interesting in their own rights: Dorothy, the young and wealthy widow; Lydgate, the ambitious doctor; Ladislaw, the wayward vagabond and Fred, the flawed everyman. All the characters have depth and motivations, strengths and weaknesses which will quickly endear you. As a character study and psychological exercise, Middlemarch is peerless.
I’ve heard a lecturer comparing Middlemarch to Austen’s novel (not a fair comparison in my opinion — Austen is shallow) saying that while Austen writes about courtship, Middlemarch is about marriage. This description is more or less apt — Eliot shows the ugly side of marriage in this idyllic provincial life. But to me, Middlemarch is the finest book in the theme of disappointment. In this regard, I wish I read this book much earlier in my life, and go back to it every few years.
Middlemarch is not for the quick reader, but it is for everybody with the patience to digest it. It is an endlessly rewarding read, rich in its exploration of relationships, wealth, classes, politics, science and art. It is beyond all of these. There are passages here that will break you and it is a terrific novel for introspection.
