Itemize Books Concering Middlemarch
| Original Title: | Middlemarch: A Study of Provincial Life |
| ISBN: | 0451529170 (ISBN13: 9780451529176) |
| Edition Language: | English |
| Characters: | Dorothea Brooke, Celia Brooke, Will Ladislaw, Mary Garth, Rosamond Vincy, Sir James Chettam, Tertius Lydgate, Peter Featherstone, Edward Casaubon, Caleb Garth, Camden Farebrother, Joshua Rigg, John Raffles, Nicholas Bulstrode, Harriet Bulstrode, Arthur Brooke, Fred Vincy |
| Setting: | Midlands, England |
George Eliot
Paperback | Pages: 904 pages Rating: 3.96 | 129692 Users | 7065 Reviews
Identify Out Of Books Middlemarch
| Title | : | Middlemarch |
| Author | : | George Eliot |
| Book Format | : | Paperback |
| Book Edition | : | Anniversary Edition |
| Pages | : | Pages: 904 pages |
| Published | : | 2004 by Signet (first published 1871) |
| Categories | : | Fantasy. Young Adult. Fiction |
Narration Conducive To Books Middlemarch
Taking place in the years leading up to the First Reform Bill of 1832, Middlemarch explores nearly every subject of concern to modern life: art, religion, science, politics, self, society, human relationships. Among her characters are some of the most remarkable portraits in English literature: Dorothea Brooke, the heroine, idealistic but naive; Rosamond Vincy, beautiful and egoistic: Edward Casaubon, the dry-as-dust scholar: Tertius Lydgate, the brilliant but morally-flawed physician: the passionate artist Will Ladislaw: and Fred Vincey and Mary Garth, childhood sweethearts whose charming courtship is one of the many humorous elements in the novel's rich comic vein.Rating Out Of Books Middlemarch
Ratings: 3.96 From 129692 Users | 7065 ReviewsCrit Out Of Books Middlemarch
Made it Past Page 700, But Cannot Read Even One More Page of Telling (Compared to Showing)Reading this now seems akin to being impelled to eat an overcooked steak with a plastic fork and butter knife . After months of pain, I put my finger on one of the reasons why. It was published in 1871 before the literary realism of Flaubert's 1856 Madame Bovary gained a foothold in the lit world. For example, something that especially drives me to the brink is Eliot's constant long-winded commentary on theWidely regarded as the quintessential Victorian novel, Middlemarch is a superb study of life among the upper and upper middle classes of a fictional rural community in 1830s England. It takes 900 pages to draw its conclusions, but they're 900 pages of some of the richest realist writing nineteenth-century literature has to offer, full of insights into society, human nature, what to do in life when one can't quite make one's dreams come true, and how to make a marriage work. I've seen it
I shelved this as a romance on a whim, but if I'm being perfectly honest, this is just a work of brilliant realism. :)George Eliot, nee Mary Anne Evans, was a fascinating woman who lived a life by her own ideals, living out of wedlock with a married man in Victoria's England, working for the Westminster Review and writing novels under a man's name. And for all that, she brings it out pretty swimmingly in what appears, at first glance, to be a heavily moral tale surrounding a very moral Dorothy
Take this for granted. Middlemarch will haunt your every waking hour for the duration you spend within its fictional provincial boundaries. At extremely odd moments during a day you will be possessed by a fierce urge to open the book and dwell over pages you read last night in an effort to clarify newly arisen doubts - 'What did Will mean by that? What on earth is this much talked about Reform Bill? What will happen to poor Lydgate? Is Dorothea just symbolic or realistic?'And failure to act on
Best. Goddamned. Book. Ever.Seriously, this shit's bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. 750 pages in, and you're still being surprised. It's 800 pages long and EVERY SINGLE PAGE ADVANCES THE PLOT. You cannot believe it until you read it. This is a writer's book. By which I mean, and I say this with love, that if you write, but you do not love Middlemarch with everything that's in you, then stop writing. Yesterday.
I conquered the biggest tome for this year. And I loved it.
I have not taken a bribe yet. But there is a pale shade of bribery which is sometimes called prosperity. The afterword to my edition compared one of its many cruxes, this one dealing with the slow grave robbing of sin, to the machinations of Macbeth. I will raise those stakes from plot device to the narratology of equivocation: Shakespeare, previously under investigation for suspected connection to the Gunpowder Plot, currently in the thrall of absolutist witch hunter King James, is made to
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