Both during and after her schooldays George Eliot’s history was that of a mind continually out-growing its conditions. She became an excellent housewife and a devoted1 daughter, but her nature was too large for so cramped2 a life. ‘You may try,’ she writes in Daniel Deronda, ‘but you can never imagine what it is to have a man’s force of genius in you, and to suffer the slavery of being a girl.’
While her powers were growing she necessarily passed through many phases. She became deeply religious, and wrote poetry, pious3 and sweet, fair of its kind. Music was a passion with her; in a characteristic letter written at the age of twenty to a friend she tries but fails to describe her experience on hearing the ‘Messiah’ of Birmingham: ‘With a stupid, drowsy4 sensation, produced by standing5 sentinel over damson cheese and a warm stove, I cannot do better than ask you to read, if accessible, Wordsworth’s short poem on the “Power of Sound.”’ There you have a concise6 history of George Eliot’s life at this period, divided as it was between music, literature, and damson cheese.
Sixteen years of mental work and effort then lay between her and her first achievement; years during which she read industriously7 and thought more than she read. The classics, French, German, and Italian literature, she laid them all under contribution. She had besides the art of fortunate friendship: her mind naturally chose out the greater intelligences among those she encountered; it was through a warm and enduring friendship with Herbert Spencer that she met at last with George Henry Lewes whose wife she became.
In this way she served no trifling8 apprenticeship9. Natural genius, experience of life, culture, and great companionship had joined to make her what she was, a philosopher both natural and developed; and, what is more rare, a philosopher with a sense of humour and a perception of the dramatic. Thus when her chance came she was fully10 equipped to meet it.
It came when, at the age of thirty-six she began to write ‘Amos Barton,’ her first attempt at fiction, and one that fixed11 her career. The story appeared in ‘Blackwood’s Magazine,’ and was followed by ‘Mr. Gilfil’s Love Story’ and ‘Janet’s Repentance12.’ Of the three, ‘Mr. Gilfil’s Love Story’ is perhaps the most finished and artistic13; while ‘Amos Barton’ has qualities of humour and tenderness that have not often been equalled. ‘Janet’s Repentance,’ strong though it is, and containing the remarkable14 sketch15 of Mr. Tryan, is perhaps less surely attractive.
The stories, all three of them, have a particular value as records of an English country life that is rapidly passing away. Moreover, it is country life seen through the medium of a powerful and right-judging personality. It is her intimate and thorough knowledge of big things and small, of literature and damson cheese, enabling her and us to see all round her characters, that provides these characters with their ample background of light and shade.
It is well to realise that since George Eliot’s day the fashion of writing, the temper of the modern mind, are quite changed; it is a curious fact that the more sophisticated we become the simpler grows our speech. Nowadays we talk as nearly as we may in words of one syllable16. Our style is stripped more and more of its Latinity. Our writers are more and more in love with French methods — with the delicate clearness of short phrases in which every word tells; with the rejection17 of all intellectual ambulations round about a subject. To the fanatics18 of this modern method the style of George Eliot appears strange, impossible. It does not occur to them that her method has virtues19 which lack to theirs. They may give us a little laboured masterpiece of art in which the vital principle is wanting. George Eliot was great because she gave us passages from life as it was lived in her day which will be vital so long as they are sympathetically read.
George Eliot can be simple enough when she goes straight forward with her narrative20, as, for instance, in the scene of Milly Barton’s death; then her English is clear and sweet for she writes from the heart. But take the opening chapter of the same story, and then you find her philosophical21 Latinity in full swing: the curious and interesting thing being that this otherwise ponderous22 work, which is quite of a sort to alarm a Frenchman, is entirely23 suffused24 by humour, and enshrines moreover the most charming character studies.
These lively and acute portraits drawn25 from English country life give its abiding26 value to George Eliot’s work. Take the character of Mr. Pilgrim the doctor who ‘is never so comfortable as when relaxing his professional legs in one of those excellent farmhouses27 where the mice are sleek28 and the mistress sickly;’ or of Mrs. Hackit, ‘a thin woman with a chronic29 liver complaint which would have secured her Mr. Pilgrim’s entire regard and unreserved good word, even if he had not been in awe30 of her tongue.’
Or take Mrs. Patten, ‘a pretty little old woman of eighty, with a close cap and tiny flat white curls round her face,’ whose function is ‘quiescence in an easy-chair under the sense of compound interest gradually accumulating,’ and who ‘does her malevolence31 gently;’ or Mr. Hackit, a shrewd, substantial man, ‘who was fond of soothing32 the acerbities of the feminine mind by a jocose33 compliment.’ Where but in George Eliot would you get a tea-party described with such charming acceptance of whim34?
George Eliot wrote poems at various times which showed she never could have won fame as a poet; but there are moments of her prose that prove she shared at times the poet’s vision. Such a moment is that when the half broken-hearted little Catarina looks out on a windy night landscape lit by moonlight: ‘The trees are harassed35 by that tossing motion when they would like to be at rest; the shivering grass makes her quake with sympathetic cold; the willows36 by the pool, bent37 low and white under that invisible harshness, seem agitated38 and helpless like herself.’ The italicised sentence represents the high-water mark of George Eliot’s prose; that passage alone should vindicate39 her imaginative power.
G. R.
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1 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
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2 cramped | |
a.狭窄的 | |
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3 pious | |
adj.虔诚的;道貌岸然的 | |
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4 drowsy | |
adj.昏昏欲睡的,令人发困的 | |
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5 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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6 concise | |
adj.简洁的,简明的 | |
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7 industriously | |
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8 trifling | |
adj.微不足道的;没什么价值的 | |
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9 apprenticeship | |
n.学徒身份;学徒期 | |
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10 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
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11 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
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12 repentance | |
n.懊悔 | |
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13 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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14 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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15 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
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16 syllable | |
n.音节;vt.分音节 | |
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17 rejection | |
n.拒绝,被拒,抛弃,被弃 | |
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18 fanatics | |
狂热者,入迷者( fanatic的名词复数 ) | |
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19 virtues | |
美德( virtue的名词复数 ); 德行; 优点; 长处 | |
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20 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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21 philosophical | |
adj.哲学家的,哲学上的,达观的 | |
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22 ponderous | |
adj.沉重的,笨重的,(文章)冗长的 | |
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23 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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24 suffused | |
v.(指颜色、水气等)弥漫于,布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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26 abiding | |
adj.永久的,持久的,不变的 | |
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27 farmhouses | |
n.农舍,农场的主要住房( farmhouse的名词复数 ) | |
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28 sleek | |
adj.光滑的,井然有序的;v.使光滑,梳拢 | |
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29 chronic | |
adj.(疾病)长期未愈的,慢性的;极坏的 | |
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30 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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31 malevolence | |
n.恶意,狠毒 | |
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32 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
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33 jocose | |
adj.开玩笑的,滑稽的 | |
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34 whim | |
n.一时的兴致,突然的念头;奇想,幻想 | |
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35 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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36 willows | |
n.柳树( willow的名词复数 );柳木 | |
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37 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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38 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
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39 vindicate | |
v.为…辩护或辩解,辩明;证明…正确 | |
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