The Mill on the Floss

The Mill on the Floss

by George Eliot

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The classic tale of one young woman’s quest for fulfillment in 1820s England, and the price she would pay for true freedom.
Maggie Tulliver’s entire life has been spent in the shadow of Dorlcote Mill on the River Floss with her beloved older brother, Tom. But when their father meets an untimely death, the siblings’ singular bond is strained as Tom is forced to leave his studies and Maggie struggles to find a sense of belonging.
Maggie’s sharp intelligence and spirited nature have made her an oddity in the rural hamlet of St. Ogg’s, where such unique qualities are perceived as unbecoming for a woman. Her need for recognition and love eventually drives her to defy her brother, who casts her out of his house to survive on her own. Forced to grieve the losses of both their father and each other, the siblings will have to find it in their hearts to forgive in order to reconcile before tragedy strikes again.
Inspired by events in the life of the author, The Mill on the Floss is George Eliot’s most heartfelt novel and one of her most compelling and moving works.
This ebook has been professionally proofread to ensure accuracy and readability on all devices.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9783736803794
Publisher: BookRix
Publication date: 06/10/2019
Sold by: Bookwire
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 825
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

George Eliot (1819–1880) was the pseudonym of Mary Ann Evans, one of the defining authors of the Victorian era, who penned influential works such as Adam Bede, Middlemarch, The Mill on the Floss, and Silas Marner. Eliot began her career by writing for local newspapers, eventually running the Westminster Review. During her time there, she decided to become a novelist and chose a masculine pen name in order to avoid the rampant sexism of the day. Her first novel, Adam Bede, was an instant success. Eliot’s realist philosophy and deep characterizations were defining features of her work, and her classic novels have earned her praise as one of the English language’s top authors.

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The Mill on the Floss

By George Eliot


Copyright © 2016 Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5040-4196-6


Outside Dorlcote Mill

A wide plain, where the broadening Floss hurries on between its green banks to the sea, and the loving tide, rushing to meet it, checks its passage with an impetuous embrace. On this mighty tide the black ships — laden with the fresh-scented fir-planks, with rounded sacks of oil-bearing seed, or with the dark glitter of coal — are borne along to the town of St. Ogg's, which shows its aged, fluted red roofs and the broad gables of its wharves between the low wooded hill and the river-brink, tingeing the water with a soft purple hue under the transient glance of this February sun. Far away on each hand stretch the rich pastures, and the patches of dark earth made ready for the seed of broad-leaved green crops, or touched already with the tint of the tender-bladed autumn-sown corn. There is a remnant still of last year's golden clusters of beehive-ricks rising at intervals beyond the hedgerows; and everywhere the hedgerows are studded with trees; the distant ships seem to be lifting their masts and stretching their red-brown sails close among the branches of the spreading ash. Just by the red-roofed town the tributary Ripple flows with a lively current into the Floss. How lovely the little river is, with its dark changing wavelets! It seems to me like a living companion while I wander along the bank, and listen to its low, placid voice, as to the voice of one who is deaf and loving. I remember those large dipping willows. I remember the stone bridge.

And this is Dorlcote Mill. I must stand a minute or two here on the bridge and look at it, though the clouds are threatening, and it is far on in the afternoon. Even in this leafless time of departing February it is pleasant to look at, — perhaps the chill, damp season adds a charm to the trimly kept, comfortable dwelling-house, as old as the elms and chestnuts that shelter it from the northern blast. The stream is brimful now, and lies high in this little withy plantation, and half drowns the grassy fringe of the croft in front of the house. As I look at the full stream, the vivid grass, the delicate bright-green powder softening the outline of the great trunks and branches that gleam from under the bare purple boughs, I am in love with moistness, and envy the white ducks that are dipping their heads far into the water here among the withes, unmindful of the awkward appearance they make in the drier world above.

The rush of the water and the booming of the mill bring a dreamy deafness, which seems to heighten the peacefulness of the scene. They are like a great curtain of sound, shutting one out from the world beyond. And now there is the thunder of the huge covered wagon coming home with sacks of grain. That honest wagoner is thinking of his dinner, getting sadly dry in the oven at this late hour; but he will not touch it till he has fed his horses, — the strong, submissive, meek-eyed beasts, who, I fancy, are looking mild reproach at him from between their blinkers, that he should crack his whip at them in that awful manner as if they needed that hint! See how they stretch their shoulders up the slope toward the bridge, with all the more energy because they are so near home. Look at their grand shaggy feet that seem to grasp the firm earth, at the patient strength of their necks, bowed under the heavy collar, at the mighty muscles of their struggling haunches! I should like well to hear them neigh over their hardly earned feed of corn, and see them, with their moist necks freed from the harness, dipping their eager nostrils into the muddy pond. Now they are on the bridge, and down they go again at a swifter pace, and the arch of the covered wagon disappears at the turning behind the trees.

Now I can turn my eyes toward the mill again, and watch the unresting wheel sending out its diamond jets of water. That little girl is watching it too; she has been standing on just the same spot at the edge of the water ever since I paused on the bridge. And that queer white cur with the brown ear seems to be leaping and barking in ineffectual remonstrance with the wheel; perhaps he is jealous because his playfellow in the beaver bonnet is so rapt in its movement. It is time the little playfellow went in, I think; and there is a very bright fire to tempt her: the red light shines out under the deepening gray of the sky. It is time, too, for me to leave off resting my arms on the cold stone of this bridge....

Ah, my arms are really benumbed. I have been pressing my elbows on the arms of my chair, and dreaming that I was standing on the bridge in front of Dorlcote Mill, as it looked one February afternoon many years ago. Before I dozed off, I was going to tell you what Mr. and Mrs. Tulliver were talking about, as they sat by the bright fire in the left-hand parlor, on that very afternoon I have been dreaming of.


Mr. Tulliver, of Dorlcote Mill, Declares His Resolution about Tom

"What I want, you know," said Mr. Tulliver, — "what I want is to give Tom a good eddication; an eddication as'll be a bread to him. That was what I was thinking of when I gave notice for him to leave the academy at Lady-day. I mean to put him to a downright good school at Midsummer. The two years at th' academy 'ud ha' done well enough, if I'd meant to make a miller and farmer of him, for he's had a fine sight more schoolin' nor I ever got. All the learnin' my father ever paid for was a bit o' birch at one end and the alphabet at th' other. But I should like Tom to be a bit of a scholard, so as he might be up to the tricks o' these fellows as talk fine and write with a flourish. It 'ud be a help to me wi' these lawsuits, and arbitrations, and things. I wouldn't make a downright lawyer o' the lad, — I should be sorry for him to be a raskill, — but a sort o' engineer, or a surveyor, or an auctioneer and vallyer, like Riley, or one o' them smartish businesses as are all profits and no outlay, only for a big watch-chain and a high stool. They're pretty nigh all one, and they're not far off being even wi' the law, I believe; for Riley looks Lawyer Wakem i' the face as hard as one cat looks another. He's none frightened at him."

Mr. Tulliver was speaking to his wife, a blond comely woman in a fan-shaped cap (I am afraid to think how long it is since fan-shaped caps were worn, they must be so near coming in again. At that time, when Mrs. Tulliver was nearly forty, they were new at St. Ogg's, and considered sweet things).

"Well, Mr. Tulliver, you know best: I've no objections. But hadn't I better kill a couple o' fowl, and have th' aunts and uncles to dinner next week, so as you may hear what sister Glegg and sister Pullet have got to say about it? There's a couple o' fowl wants killing!"

"You may kill every fowl i' the yard if you like, Bessy; but I shall ask neither aunt nor uncle what I'm to do wi' my own lad," said Mr. Tulliver, defiantly.

"Dear heart!" said Mrs. Tulliver, shocked at this sanguinary rhetoric, "how can you talk so, Mr. Tulliver? But it's your way to speak disrespectful o' my family; and sister Glegg throws all the blame upo' me, though I'm sure I'm as innocent as the babe unborn. For nobody's ever heard me say as it wasn't lucky for my children to have aunts and uncles as can live independent. Howiver, if Tom's to go to a new school, I should like him to go where I can wash him and mend him; else he might as well have calico as linen, for they'd be one as yallow as th' other before they'd been washed half-a-dozen times. And then, when the box is goin' back'ard and forrard, I could send the lad a cake, or a porkpie, or an apple; for he can do with an extry bit, bless him! whether they stint him at the meals or no. My children can eat as much victuals as most, thank God!"

"Well, well, we won't send him out o' reach o' the carrier's cart, if other things fit in," said Mr. Tulliver. "But you mustn't put a spoke i' the wheel about the washin,' if we can't get a school near enough. That's the fault I have to find wi' you, Bessy; if you see a stick i' the road, you're allays thinkin' you can't step over it. You'd want me not to hire a good wagoner, 'cause he'd got a mole on his face."

"Dear heart!" said Mrs. Tulliver, in mild surprise, "when did I iver make objections to a man because he'd got a mole on his face? I'm sure I'm rether fond o' the moles; for my brother, as is dead an' gone, had a mole on his brow. But I can't remember your iver offering to hire a wagoner with a mole, Mr. Tulliver. There was John Gibbs hadn't a mole on his face no more nor you have, an' I was all for having you hire him; an' so you did hire him, an' if he hadn't died o' th' inflammation, as we paid Dr. Turnbull for attending him, he'd very like ha' been drivin' the wagon now. He might have a mole somewhere out o' sight, but how was I to know that, Mr. Tulliver?"

"No, no, Bessy; I didn't mean justly the mole; I meant it to stand for summat else; but niver mind — it's puzzling work, talking is. What I'm thinking on, is how to find the right sort o' school to send Tom to, for I might be ta'en in again, as I've been wi' th' academy. I'll have nothing to do wi' a 'cademy again: whativer school I send Tom to, it sha'n't be a 'cademy; it shall be a place where the lads spend their time i' summat else besides blacking the family's shoes, and getting up the potatoes. It's an uncommon puzzling thing to know what school to pick."

Mr. Tulliver paused a minute or two, and dived with both hands into his breeches pockets as if he hoped to find some suggestion there. Apparently he was not disappointed, for he presently said, "I know what I'll do: I'll talk it over wi' Riley; he's coming to-morrow, t' arbitrate about the dam."

"Well, Mr. Tulliver, I've put the sheets out for the best bed, and Kezia's got 'em hanging at the fire. They aren't the best sheets, but they're good enough for anybody to sleep in, be he who he will; for as for them best Holland sheets, I should repent buying 'em, only they'll do to lay us out in. An' if you was to die to-morrow, Mr. Tulliver, they're mangled beautiful, an' all ready, an' smell o' lavender as it 'ud be a pleasure to lay 'em out; an' they lie at the left-hand corner o' the big oak linen-chest at the back: not as I should trust anybody to look 'em out but myself."

As Mrs. Tulliver uttered the last sentence, she drew a bright bunch of keys from her pocket, and singled out one, rubbing her thumb and finger up and down it with a placid smile while she looked at the clear fire. If Mr. Tulliver had been a susceptible man in his conjugal relation, he might have supposed that she drew out the key to aid her imagination in anticipating the moment when he would be in a state to justify the production of the best Holland sheets. Happily he was not so; he was only susceptible in respect of his right to water-power; moreover, he had the marital habit of not listening very closely, and since his mention of Mr. Riley, had been apparently occupied in a tactile examination of his woollen stockings.

"I think I've hit it, Bessy," was his first remark after a short silence. "Riley's as likely a man as any to know o' some school; he's had schooling himself, an' goes about to all sorts o' places, arbitratin' and vallyin' and that. And we shall have time to talk it over to-morrow night when the business is done. I want Tom to be such a sort o' man as Riley, you know, — as can talk pretty nigh as well as if it was all wrote out for him, and knows a good lot o' words as don't mean much, so as you can't lay hold of 'em i' law; and a good solid knowledge o' business too."

"Well," said Mrs. Tulliver, "so far as talking proper, and knowing everything, and walking with a bend in his back, and setting his hair up, I shouldn't mind the lad being brought up to that. But them fine-talking men from the big towns mostly wear the false shirt-fronts; they wear a frill till it's all a mess, and then hide it with a bib; I know Riley does. And then, if Tom's to go and live at Mudport, like Riley, he'll have a house with a kitchen hardly big enough to turn in, an' niver get a fresh egg for his breakfast, an' sleep up three pair o' stairs, — or four, for what I know, — and be burnt to death before he can get down."

"No, no," said Mr. Tulliver, "I've no thoughts of his going to Mudport: I mean him to set up his office at St. Ogg's, close by us, an' live at home. But," continued Mr. Tulliver after a pause, "what I'm a bit afraid on is, as Tom hasn't got the right sort o' brains for a smart fellow. I doubt he's a bit slowish. He takes after your family, Bessy."

"Yes, that he does," said Mrs. Tulliver, accepting the last proposition entirely on its own merits; "he's wonderful for liking a deal o' salt in his broth. That was my brother's way, and my father's before him."

"It seems a bit a pity, though," said Mr. Tulliver, "as the lad should take after the mother's side instead o' the little wench. That's the worst on't wi' crossing o' breeds: you can never justly calkilate what'll come on't. The little un takes after my side, now: she's twice as 'cute as Tom. Too 'cute for a woman, I'm afraid," continued Mr. Tulliver, turning his head dubiously first on one side and then on the other. "It's no mischief much while she's a little un; but an over-'cute woman's no better nor a long-tailed sheep, — she'll fetch none the bigger price for that."

"Yes, it is a mischief while she's a little un, Mr. Tulliver, for it runs to naughtiness. How to keep her in a clean pinafore two hours together passes my cunning. An' now you put me i' mind," continued Mrs. Tulliver, rising and going to the window, "I don't know where she is now, an' it's pretty nigh tea-time. Ah, I thought so, — wanderin' up an' down by the water, like a wild thing: She'll tumble in some day."

Mrs. Tulliver rapped the window sharply, beckoned, and shook her head, — a process which she repeated more than once before she returned to her chair.

"You talk o' 'cuteness, Mr. Tulliver," she observed as she sat down, "but I'm sure the child's half an idiot i' some things; for if I send her upstairs to fetch anything, she forgets what she's gone for, an' perhaps 'ull sit down on the floor i' the sunshine an' plait her hair an' sing to herself like a Bedlam creatur', all the while I'm waiting for her downstairs. That niver run i' my family, thank God! no more nor a brown skin as makes her look like a mulatter. I don't like to fly i' the face o' Providence, but it seems hard as I should have but one gell, an' her so comical."

"Pooh, nonsense!" said Mr. Tulliver; "she's a straight, black-eyed wench as anybody need wish to see. I don't know i' what she's behind other folks's children; and she can read almost as well as the parson."

"But her hair won't curl all I can do with it, and she's so franzy about having it put i' paper, and I've such work as never was to make her stand and have it pinched with th' irons."

"Cut it off — cut it off short," said the father, rashly.

"How can you talk so, Mr. Tulliver? She's too big a gell — gone nine, and tall of her age — to have her hair cut short; an' there's her cousin Lucy's got a row o' curls round her head, an' not a hair out o' place. It seems hard as my sister Deane should have that pretty child; I'm sure Lucy takes more after me nor my own child does. Maggie, Maggie," continued the mother, in a tone of half-coaxing fretfulness, as this small mistake of nature entered the room, "where's the use o' my telling you to keep away from the water? You'll tumble in and be drownded some day, an' then you'll be sorry you didn't do as mother told you."

Maggie's hair, as she threw off her bonnet, painfully confirmed her mother's accusation. Mrs. Tulliver, desiring her daughter to have a curled crop, "like other folks's children," had had it cut too short in front to be pushed behind the ears; and as it was usually straight an hour after it had been taken out of paper, Maggie was incessantly tossing her head to keep the dark, heavy locks out of her gleaming black eyes, — an action which gave her very much the air of a small Shetland pony.


Excerpted from The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot. Copyright © 2016 Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents

George Eliot: A Brief Chronology
A Note on the Text
The Mill on the Floss

Appendix A: George Eliot’s Translations, Essays, Reviews, and Poems

  1. From George Eliot’s translation of Ludwig Feuerbach’s The Essence of Christianity (1854)
  2. [George Eliot], “Margaret Fuller and Mary Wollstonecraft,” Leader (13 October 1855)
  3. From [George Eliot], review of Thomas Keightley’s Life, Opinions, and Writings of John Milton, The Westminster Review (October 1855)
  4. [George Eliot], “The Antigone and Its Moral,” Leader (29 March 1856)
  5. From [George Eliot], “Silly Novels by Lady Novelists,” The Westminster Review (October 1856)
  6. From George Eliot, “Notes on ‘The Spanish Gypsy’ and Tragedy in General” (1868)
  7. George Eliot, “Brother and Sister,” The Legend of Jubal and Other Poems (1874)

Appendix B: Contemporary Reviews of The Mill on the Floss

  1. Spectator (7 April 1860)
  2. [E.S. Dallas], The Times (19 May 1860)
  3. [Dinah Mulock], Macmillan’s Magazine (April 1861)
  4. From Henry James, The Atlantic Monthly (October 1866)

Appendix C: Historical Documents: Mythic and Religious Contexts; Medicine and Education

  1. From Mrs. Anna Jameson, “St. Christopher,” Sacred and Legendary Art, vol. 2 (1848)
  2. From Daniel Defoe, “Of the Tools the Devil Works with,” The History of the Devil (1727)
  3. From Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ (1737)
  4. From Auguste Comte, The Catechism of Positivism (1858)
  5. From Samuel Hare, Cases and Observations Illustrative of the Beneficial Results (1857)
  6. From [William Ballantyne Hodgson], “‘Classical’ Instruction: Its Use and Abuse,” The Westminster Review (October 1853)

Select Bibliography

Reading Group Guide

1. In the first scene in the novel, Maggie is set in opposition to her surroundings, her family, and the notion of what it means to be a Victorian woman. Examine the last four pages of the Chapter II of Book First. How is this juxtaposition highlighted, and through what means? What role does the narrator’s voice play in this introduction to our heroine?

Mrs. Tulliver is portrayed as a stagnant and passive woman. Examine her unraveling in Book Third, Chapter II, as her material possessions are taken away from her. What does this say about her identity and its relationship to the material things in her life? How does this relate back to the ideals about women presented in the beginning of the novel?

The contrast between fantasy and reality is a theme that permeates the entire novel. Examine the passage in Book Fourth, Chapter I which contrasts the ruins of castles along the Rhine with the “angular skeletons of villages on the Rhone.” How is reality portrayed here and in contrast, what is its relationship with fantasy? Is one an escape from the other or are they mere opposites? What does this passage suggest about the human need for fantasy? Is fantasy an escape or is it portrayed as oppressive?

How does this contrast between reality and fantasy or nostalgia relate to Maggie? In Chapter III of the same section above, Maggie laments the lack of fantasy and nostalgia in her own life and her desire for the “secret of life” (the paragraph that begins with “Maggie’s sense of loneliness…”) What answers does this passage offer to this question? Does Maggie accept them?

Compare Maggie and herdialogues with Philip to the Maggie during her romance with Stephen. How does the change in her mirror the turn of events in the novel? How and why do the two men affect her in such different ways? Is it merely their own personalities affecting Maggie, or is it something more internal in Maggie that the two men merely bring out in her?

Examine Maggie’s relationship with Lucy. The contrast between the two women are clear from the beginning of the novel. How does this contrast shift throughout the novel? How does Maggie’s opinion of Lucy change? How does the world that Maggie inhibits differ from Lucy’s world?

Representations of “home” vary from chapter to chapter throughout the book. Compare and contrast the multiple allusions to “home” and “nurture” and how they affect the various characters. For example, consider the passage at the end of Chapter III in Book Fifth, where “desire” is juxtaposed with “home” What does “home” represent for Maggie and how does her attitude toward it shift throughout the novel? (Consider the passage towards the end of the novel where Maggie exclaims “I wish I could make myself a world outside it, as men do.”)

Examine Maggie’s relationship with Tom. What does their conversations throughout Book Fifth suggest about gender? How does her relationship with Tom affect Maggie and her outlook?

Consider the ending of the novel. Why do you suppose the last chapter is titled “Final Rescue” even though the novel ends with Maggie and Tom’s tragic death? What does this suggest about the novel’s purpose? Looking back, how does this ending justify or explain Maggie’s journey throughout the novel?

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Mill on the Floss 3.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 43 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
The story though sad and gloomy is addictive at the same time. I could not keep my eyes off the pages through a larger part of the story. I read with much intrest the passages used to describe subtle emotions. Undoubtedly, George Eliot has complete mastery to communicate feelings with as much ease as leisure talk. The similies are superb, and when combined with the feeling of finding some part of the novel corresponding with your own views, makes one wonder with amazement over the fact that the novel written so long ago could hold true even today.
Guest More than 1 year ago
Geoge Eliot's rhetoric prowess is beyond ones speculation. The scenic depiction of the medival England adds elegance to this peice of marvel. The changing instinctions of a girl to woman is portrayed very elegantly and reveals the subtle difference in the attitudes which diffrentiates a woman from girl. Maggie is such a philanthrophic heart which a man strives to have as his beloved. The Tom Boyish 'Tom' is portrayed eqaully well. The noble 'Philip Wakem' exhibits those qualities which portrays a perfect gentleman. It is quite hard to beleive this peice of literature as a fiction. No wonder George Eliot is one of the greatest writers this world has ever seen... No wonder artists are born and not made...
Guest More than 1 year ago
George Eliot has a way of making life appear magical and despairing at the same time. Maggie Tulliver suffers tremendous trials and greivances yet everyone can't help fall in love with her. She leads a pitiable, confused life , yet she is filled with such passion for it(life) that she never once gives up despite all of the burdens she is forced to carry. Overall- a glorious story of the conflicts between love and loyalty, passion and responsibiltiy, luxury and reputation. It's one of those books that you know needs to be shared but you can't help wanting to keep it's sparkle all to yourself. (At least thats the way I feel) The only tragedy for me was that it ended; it was really long but I just wanted it to go on and on forever. Call me sentimental, but wouldn't this make a great movie? Really! When you're done reading the book, E-amil me and help me write a script...
Guest More than 1 year ago
'wild and natural'maggie always trying to be right but falls in some crises and the last of all her misfortunes is most drastic.its tragedy and shows that what fate does to a man is not in his power to change.but its a lovely story with tinges of bitterness here and there and the end is extremely tragic,one can't anticipate in the gloom of hopelessness any ray of hope,but it came certainly and removed all the earthly sorrows and miseries at my thinking the end should be like this and i compare thier death to the end of all misfortunes.
Guest More than 1 year ago
This is the very sad story of a young woman, Maggie Tulliver,who lives in a small English village. She must choose between her family and the man she loves. She is very unhappy because she does not know what to do.
SaraPrindiville on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Very descriptive and verbose, but overall a good story. Similar to Hardy or Fielding in writing style. Distinct sense of time and unusual in its setting for the time period. Pastoral, but upper middle class- almost reminds me of the British TV show "Keeping up Appearances"- oddly enough.
amyfaerie on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
One of my favorite classic novels.
Johnny1978 on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
The Mill on the Floss details the isolation and evntaul death of Maggie Tulliver - a courageous, intelligent and likeable heroine too good for the narrow society she's condemned by, and certainly too good for her censorious, half-witted brother.
autumnc on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
If you can find an introduction or timeline with "George Eliot"s life prior to reading this story, it will be all the more poignat. I am pretty sure she is writing her own story- the social context is totally amazing, and makes it all the more meaningful. Major themes surrounding the plight of women in the late 1800s, but also incredibly humourous. "This is a puzzling world, if you drive your wagons in a hurry you may light on an awkward corner!"
quoddy on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
My personal favourite of all Eliot's works. It seems to me to be one of the very few books of it's time which showed that there is true passion in sibling love. It has the sweetest taste of tragedy I have ever had.
booksbooks11 on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
What a pleasure this book was. Oh Maggie you're such an annoying but endearing thing why didn't you just marry the gorgeous Stephen, you had to let your silly morals get in the way and don't we love you for it in the end. I was captivated to see how it could ever end and would my longing for Maggie and Stephen to be together be satiated or not, you'll have to read it to find out.
stephxsu on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Spirited Maggie Tulliver grows up on a struggling mill by the riverside town of St. Ogg¿s and struggles with her relationships with her family, her older brother Tom, a beloved friend who happens to be the son of her father¿s enemy, and a charismatic but unattainable suitor. This is the first George Eliot book I¿ve read and it won¿t be my last, for I am blown away by Eliot¿s remarkably, almost painfully, accurate insights into human nature and the social condition. Maggie is like a modern heroine caught between tensions of the old and new, a girl who doesn¿t fit the mold of the ideal young woman and yet craves acceptance and praise from the men in her life. The writing is bold and flowing, the characters flawed yet endearing.There are many other more scholarly things I could say about this book (for we had an excellent discussion about it in class), but I would¿ve loved it had I picked it up on my own. It¿s got all the cleverness and emotional resonance of an Austen novel, and the intricacies of the Victorian realist genre. I have to admit I was thrown and angry at the way Eliot ended this novel, but until that point I was fully invested in the characters¿ outcomes, and I can now simply chuckle at all the different ways I can academically interpret that infuriating ending. A must-read for Victorian lit!
SFM13 on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Maggie's story is tragic, and the ending left me in tears. She was a character that acted impulsively, and drew my sympathies. Her brother Tom may have been annoying and sometimes cruel, but he was her connection to her past ... who she was, and with her in the end. The longer divided, Maggie and Tom will be forever immortalized by unconditional love, despite their dysfunction.
LadyHax on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
When I first attempted to read this novel many, many years ago for an undergraduate class on British women writers of the nineteenth century, I got 126 pages into it (the bookmark was still there) and then abandoned it, fudging my way through the seminar. I maligned this book somewhat, declaring it to be dull, nowhere near as interesting as Middlemarch (assisted as I had been in reading that text by pleasant images of Rufus Sewell). In retrospect, I actually think I was too young for this book. This is not to say that the book is terribly adult but that I was not mature enough to appreciate the nuances.Perhaps what struck me most in this second, successful read is that Eliot appears to be using irony - bordering on sarcasm - quite heavily at times. Needless to say, I found this wonderful. Tom's obvious character flaws, for example, are portrayed as virtues, and Maggie's virtues as vices. I must admit, however, that Maggie Tulliver disappoints me somewhat. I do not necessarily feel it was entirely her lack of opportunity that leads to her misfortune but her adolescent ascetic phase. Furthermore, the unattractiveness of Stephen Guest as a character and her (to me) inexplicable attraction to him cemented this disappointment. All I could think was, "He better be gorgeous, sweetheart."The novel also captures something of the changing times. I recognised the fears and ambitions of the community of St Ogg's something very much like what we think and feel now in the face of globalisation, and that I had seen also in the finale to A.S. Byatt's Potter quartet. It confirms for me that globalisation is not modern, although its technology may be.
emmakendon on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Ooh, what an abrupt ending! I hadn't read any George Eliot, to my shame, and found this on my bookshelf. I'm so glad I picked it up, I thoroughly enjoyed all her observations and explanations of character and actions - a really mature, inspiring piece of writing. And I laughed so often. I think my favourite passage is her take on destiny: "'Character' - says Novalis, in on eof his questionable aphorisms - 'character is destiny.' But not the whole of our destiny. Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, was speculative and irresolute, and we have a great tragedy in consequence. But if his father had lived to good old age, and his uncle had died an early death, we can conceive Hamlet's having married Ophelia and got through life with a reputation of sanity notwithstanding many soliloquies, and some moody sarcasms towards the fair dughter of Polonius, to say nothing of the frankest incivility to his father-in law."Eliot is a really generous writer. Tom is pretty reviled by some of the readers who have written reviews here, but I think that's unfair. Maggie's love can be pretty incomprehensible, towards Tom and more so towards Stephen Guest, who isn't drawn particularly clearly but doesn't seem to merit the devotion of either Maggie or Lucy. But Tom is drawn in great detail, and Bob's affection for him, Uncle Deane's respect for him and the aunts' frustration with hm together with his own pride and moodiness all make sense. How delightful that awful Aunt Glegg comes good at the end as well with regards to Maggie. And Philip's last letter to Maggie is a beautiful piece of sincerety, deep love and a tremendously powerful understanding of a strength of reasoning, introspection and thoughfulness that saves him (and everyone else) from his suicide.
lizpatanders on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
Some people really dislike the prose of George Eliot, but I disagree. This was the first novel of hers which I read and I thoroughly enjoyed. The plot is entertaining and she has great character development. I also remember going to my professor and saying that I wanted to write about nature, religion and something else (probably romance) in this novel, and then realizing that there was no way that a roughly six page essay could encompass all of those topics. I really enjoyed watching how these characters relationships with others affected their emotional journeys throughout the book. A great read.
hemlokgang on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
If you love period literature, moral struggle, and enchanting heroines, you will love this novel by George Eliot. The main characters in this book are loveable, human, heartrending, and ridiculously funny. Eliot wrote this story of what she considered common folks and the struggles they live with day in and out. She describes the small town social hierarchy, the pride, and the honor of the people in this community, through the experiences of Maggie, a dark haired beauty who is both intelligent and moral. Her life is filled with strife, oppression, and also with two men who love her beyond all else. She loves her older brother, Tom, since childhood and lives her life trying to obtain his approval despite multiple roadblocks. You have to read the book to see how it all turns out! Themes in this book: Love, honor, pride, moral struggle, loyalty, family ties. Wonderful novel....I laughed, I held my breath, and I got teary.....great blend to find in one novel!
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