(no subject)
I really enjoyed this novel - which surprised me, because it's not the kind of thing I would usually go in for - it's too slow, too descriptive, too "let's write an angsty novel, full of people sitting around in darkened rooms, having very deep and philosophical discussions" But for some reason it struck a chord. So. Here are some thoughts.
Silas Marner is a contemplation on what constitutes value in life.
George Eliot’s Silas Marner presents to the reader two alternative forms of love and life value; one form is revealed through the title character, the weaver Silas Marner, and the other through the son of the local Raveloe squire, Godfrey Cass. At first glance the two characters may appear similar: each cut off from the world to some extent, each running from past disappointments; on closer inspection however, it is revealed that Silas is more capable of redemption than Godfrey, because Silas, for all his seeming mania, possesses more capacity for “pure, natural human relations” than Godfrey does, or ever will.
Silas’s monomania is in regard to his hoard of golden guineas, the outcome of years of solitary weaving and saving, “His gold, as he hung over it, and saw it grow, gathered his power of loving together into a hard isolation like its own.” Silas forgot his old pleasures, and began to live for his treasure only, forsaking nearly all human contact. He later takes a similar monomaniacal care of the orphan child Eppie, but that is not the concern at present.
In contrast, Godfrey’s monomania regards his desperate wish for his past ‘sins’ not to be found out, which would in turn lead to him losing the other major subjects of his interest, his inheritance and Nancy Lammeter, and more generally, the ‘decent and respectable’ human contact of the upper classes.
Godfrey’s fleeting pleasures consist of sipping wine that he loves, admiring women and trying not to heed to Sword of Damocles that hangs over him. Godfrey’s situation is, I feel, far worse than Silas’s - for Silas at least is in ignorance of how maniacal his behavior is becoming, whereas Godfrey is fully aware of his ill-behavior, and yet does nothing to remedy his situation. Though he does show some gentleness through his desire of Nancy Lammeter, “…It would be easy, were she always near, to shake off those foolish pleasures that were no pleasures, but only a feverish way of annulling vacancy…” this does only seem to make his situation even more selfish. “The subtle and varied pains springing from the higher sensibility that accompanies higher culture are perhaps less pitiable than that dreary absence of impersonal enjoyment and consolation which leaves ruder minds to the perpetual urgent companionship of their own grief’s and discontents.” For Godfrey could surely remedy the ills in his life, if only he were not so easily swayed by the thoughts of possible future evils that could occur to his person: he is ruled by fear of losing his privileged state, and as such, will never truly experience happiness.
Interestingly though, as Eppie reveals towards the end of the tale, the indulgences of the upper classes are undesirable when compared to the simple pleasures of working people. I don’t want to get into a discussion regarding the merits and pitfalls of ‘town versus country’, let it suffice to say that Eliot does appear to extol the virtues, the relative truthfulness and simplicity of the rural and, more specifically, lower class worlds, more often than she does the falseness of the city and upper classes: but her rural folk are not without their faults. Such insular lives as theirs, fed on suspicion, superstition and gossip, are often just as grotesquely elitist and un-accepting of difference as the higher classes, indeed, their attitudes play a great role in making Silas the recluse he is during the beginning of the tale.
An event crucial in awakening Silas from his hermit-life is the robbery of his golden horde. Silas’s loss brings out consolation in the villagers. By showing that he is human, albeit unwillingly through his loss and pain, and as vulnerable to tragedy as much as the next man, Silas gains a more favorable, far less superstitious, image in the eyes of his neighbors.
“The inhabitants of Raveloe were not severely regular in their church-going…to go to church every Sunday in the calendar would have shown a greedy desire to stand well in Heaven, and get an undue advantage over their neighbors…”
This sentiment runs over into the everyday life of the Raveloe citizens too, and reveals further the new acceptance the villagers have for Silas: for, through his misfortune, the hitherto well-to-do Silas is now one of the “common run” , and more satisfactory to the minds of the other average citizenry.
The hand of friendship is extended to Silas by Mr. Macey and the kindly Mrs. Dolly Winthrop. But Silas wants none of it: he is too wrapped up in his own misery, “He filled up the blank with grief. As he sat weaving, he every now and then moaned low, like one in pain…”
Any fleeting impressions of Silas perhaps opening up to the world, accepting his loss, and seeking a companionship, with something more humanly material than guineas, is further lost with the reading of lines such as “Formerly [Silas’s] heart had been a locked casket with its treasure inside; but now the casket was empty, and the lock broken. [Silas was] left groping darkness…” Silas is not more ‘human’ than he was before, for he is empty: not happy, just no longer locked up and ignoring the outside world completely, for he does have some vague sense that “if any help come[s] to him it must come from without; and there was a slight stirring of expectation at the sight of his fellow-men, a faint consciousness of dependence on their goodwill.” This stirring of humanity is not however actively or readily sought or accepted by Silas, it is only a means to an end: in other words, any means to get his gold back must be borne.
However, it could also be ventured that, in this unhappy state, Silas has formed of himself a ‘blank slate’ of sorts. He is ready to be shaped by the next significant event in his life, whether for good or bad depends on his fellow-men for Silas will never, in his present state, seek out a change.
Fortunately for Silas, the next episode of significance in his life is when he suffers a cataleptic fit whilst gazing at the road outside his house, “as if he thought that his money might be somehow coming back to him.” The door to his cottage is open, “powerless to resist either good or evil that might enter there.”
In a blatant, though not unpleasant, act of symbolism, it is not Silas’s gold that walks through his cottage door, but the gold-haired secret child of Godfrey Cass and his opium addict wife, Molly Farren, to whom Godfrey is locked to in shame and fear, for if their marriage was ever made known to his father, he would lose his inheritance.
The golden child is mistaken at first for Silas’s lost fortune, then for his long dead baby sister, then, most importantly, Silas construes the child as a sign:
“There was a vision of…Lantern Yard…the thoughts were strange to him now, like old friendships impossible to revive; and yet he had a dreamy feeling that this child was somehow a message come to him from that far-off life: it stirred fibers that had never been moved in Raveloe - old quiverings of tenderness - old impressions of awe at the presentiment of some Power presiding over his life…” This is the second turning post in Silas’s life, and it seems to me as if he has two alternatives open to him, either to reject the child and turn her over to the Parish, or to keep her and perhaps allow the “old quiverings of tenderness” to unfurl and flourish in the light of Eppie’s growing love for him.
Silas chooses to keep the child, “‘No - no - I can’t part with [the child], I can’t let it go,’ said Silas, abruptly. ‘It’s come to me - I’ve a right to keep it.’” Is this a genuine love for the child in need; or merely a transferal of Silas’s monomania for his gold to the golden-haired child? Initially, I believe Silas was merely covetous of Eppie’s physical resemblance to his lost gold, “[Silas] could only have said…the gold has turned into the child.” but within a very short space of time she becomes a new sort of treasure, for in keeping the child Silas reawakens in a mirror-image to Eppie’s growing maturity, “As the child’s mind was growing into knowledge, [Silas’s] mind was growing into memory: as her life unfolded, his soul, long stupefied in a cold narrow prison, was unfolding too, and trembling gradually into full consciousness.” and here we finally reach the beginnings of the main contemplation on what constitutes value in life in Silas Marner.
“The child created fresh and fresh links between [Silas’s] life and the lives from which he had hitherto shrunk [from] into narrower isolation.” Eppie becomes ‘an elixir of life’ for Silas, for though he does still seem to hold traces of a monomaniacal affection for her, it is a different kind of love than that which he held for his gold. It is a true human relationship, and loving relationships are what hold the greatest value in life, taking, for example, Silas’s growing friendship with the kindly Dolly Winthrop. George Eliot herself wrote, “I hope you will not find it at all a sad story as a whole, since it sets - or is intended to set - in a strong light the remedial influences of pure, natural human relations.”
Aside from proving the greatest value in life, the object of said relations must be alive themselves, “Unlike the gold which needed nothing (and, arguably, gave nothing), and must be worshipped in close-locked solitude - which was hidden away from the daylight, was deaf to the song of birds, and started to no human tones - Eppie was a creature of endless claims and ever-growing desires, seeking and loving sunshine, and living sounds, and living movements…and stirring the human kindness in all eyes that looked on her.”
Eppie is, in effect, Silas’s guiding guardian angel, “We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child’s.”
It is the simple pleasures such as enjoying the company of another that are given highest significance in Silas Marner. Indeed, even Godfrey admits that Eppie is “very likely to be happy, as people in humble situations often [are] - happier, perhaps, than those who are brought up in luxury.” This, I feel, is Godfrey attempting to assuage his guilt, rather than from any genuine conviction he has in the happiness of the poorer classes - for he is the first to extol the luxuries of the gentility - no, the key point that Godfrey misses, and indeed keeps on missing until the very end of the tale, is that truth and love make all the difference to a relationship, “The tender and peculiar love with which Silas had reared [Eppie] in…” is something which Godfrey cannot understand through the fog of his shame and indifference.
In contrast is Silas who, through the healing influence of Eppie, has unified his past and present memories and beliefs, “[Silas] had begun to ponder over the elements of his old faith, and blend them with his new impressions, till he recovered a consciousness of unity between his past and present.” It is so important to acknowledge and accept the past in order to continue on happily in life: “Silas momentarily identifies the new-found Eppie with his long-dead sister - an identification as crucial, in its way, as the more conspicuous gold-and-curls identification.” His recollection of “medicinal herbs and their preparation”, and his confiding to Dolly Winthrop of his wrongful expulsion from Lantern Yard, also reflect his recognition and acceptance of his pasts joys and failures.
As is revealed perfectly though Silas’s ever growing friendship with Dolly Winthrop, it is necessary to work at relationships, and be ever truthful, trusting and trustworthy, because the end result is worth all the discomfort you may experience, and all the betrayals you may suffer - you will find “pure, natural human relations” in the end. Or at the very least you will believe that “there’s good i’ this world”, and understand that the very worst things you can do are give up, as Silas did, and close yourself off from the world, or, perhaps worse, do as Godfrey did and deceive (if unwillingly) all around you - never leaving yourself open to the chance of redemption.
For as is revealed towards the end of the tale, Godfrey, who rejected Eppie (and the love she symbolizes) when he had the chance to claim her, now realizes his mistake too late to remedy the situation. Godfrey sought more fleeting pleasures, or more socially acceptable ones, and is now paying the price for his insecurity and insincerity:
“I suppose it is the way with all men who reach middle age without the clear perception that life never can be thoroughly joyous: under the vague dullness of the grey hours, dissatisfaction seeks a definite object, and finds it in the privation of an untried good. Dissatisfaction, seated musingly on a childless hearth, thinks with envy of the father whose return is greeted by young voices…”
True love and companionship sought and gained for no ulterior motives are more sustaining than love sought as an “untried good”, for satisfaction will never be found with such an attitude, for you cannot appreciate the present if you are always looking to the future for what you haven’t yet got, and may never have.
Eppie chooses to stay with Silas, for he is the true father who loved her all along, not only when he felt a selfish desire to own something new, “Marner was right in what he said about a man’s turning away a blessing from his door: it falls to somebody else.” Eppie and Silas share a loving “pure, natural human” relationship, and that is the greatest blessing, “‘O father,’ said Eppie, ‘…I think nobody could be happier than we are.”
Silas Marner is a contemplation on what constitutes value in life.
George Eliot’s Silas Marner presents to the reader two alternative forms of love and life value; one form is revealed through the title character, the weaver Silas Marner, and the other through the son of the local Raveloe squire, Godfrey Cass. At first glance the two characters may appear similar: each cut off from the world to some extent, each running from past disappointments; on closer inspection however, it is revealed that Silas is more capable of redemption than Godfrey, because Silas, for all his seeming mania, possesses more capacity for “pure, natural human relations” than Godfrey does, or ever will.
Silas’s monomania is in regard to his hoard of golden guineas, the outcome of years of solitary weaving and saving, “His gold, as he hung over it, and saw it grow, gathered his power of loving together into a hard isolation like its own.” Silas forgot his old pleasures, and began to live for his treasure only, forsaking nearly all human contact. He later takes a similar monomaniacal care of the orphan child Eppie, but that is not the concern at present.
In contrast, Godfrey’s monomania regards his desperate wish for his past ‘sins’ not to be found out, which would in turn lead to him losing the other major subjects of his interest, his inheritance and Nancy Lammeter, and more generally, the ‘decent and respectable’ human contact of the upper classes.
Godfrey’s fleeting pleasures consist of sipping wine that he loves, admiring women and trying not to heed to Sword of Damocles that hangs over him. Godfrey’s situation is, I feel, far worse than Silas’s - for Silas at least is in ignorance of how maniacal his behavior is becoming, whereas Godfrey is fully aware of his ill-behavior, and yet does nothing to remedy his situation. Though he does show some gentleness through his desire of Nancy Lammeter, “…It would be easy, were she always near, to shake off those foolish pleasures that were no pleasures, but only a feverish way of annulling vacancy…” this does only seem to make his situation even more selfish. “The subtle and varied pains springing from the higher sensibility that accompanies higher culture are perhaps less pitiable than that dreary absence of impersonal enjoyment and consolation which leaves ruder minds to the perpetual urgent companionship of their own grief’s and discontents.” For Godfrey could surely remedy the ills in his life, if only he were not so easily swayed by the thoughts of possible future evils that could occur to his person: he is ruled by fear of losing his privileged state, and as such, will never truly experience happiness.
Interestingly though, as Eppie reveals towards the end of the tale, the indulgences of the upper classes are undesirable when compared to the simple pleasures of working people. I don’t want to get into a discussion regarding the merits and pitfalls of ‘town versus country’, let it suffice to say that Eliot does appear to extol the virtues, the relative truthfulness and simplicity of the rural and, more specifically, lower class worlds, more often than she does the falseness of the city and upper classes: but her rural folk are not without their faults. Such insular lives as theirs, fed on suspicion, superstition and gossip, are often just as grotesquely elitist and un-accepting of difference as the higher classes, indeed, their attitudes play a great role in making Silas the recluse he is during the beginning of the tale.
An event crucial in awakening Silas from his hermit-life is the robbery of his golden horde. Silas’s loss brings out consolation in the villagers. By showing that he is human, albeit unwillingly through his loss and pain, and as vulnerable to tragedy as much as the next man, Silas gains a more favorable, far less superstitious, image in the eyes of his neighbors.
“The inhabitants of Raveloe were not severely regular in their church-going…to go to church every Sunday in the calendar would have shown a greedy desire to stand well in Heaven, and get an undue advantage over their neighbors…”
This sentiment runs over into the everyday life of the Raveloe citizens too, and reveals further the new acceptance the villagers have for Silas: for, through his misfortune, the hitherto well-to-do Silas is now one of the “common run” , and more satisfactory to the minds of the other average citizenry.
The hand of friendship is extended to Silas by Mr. Macey and the kindly Mrs. Dolly Winthrop. But Silas wants none of it: he is too wrapped up in his own misery, “He filled up the blank with grief. As he sat weaving, he every now and then moaned low, like one in pain…”
Any fleeting impressions of Silas perhaps opening up to the world, accepting his loss, and seeking a companionship, with something more humanly material than guineas, is further lost with the reading of lines such as “Formerly [Silas’s] heart had been a locked casket with its treasure inside; but now the casket was empty, and the lock broken. [Silas was] left groping darkness…” Silas is not more ‘human’ than he was before, for he is empty: not happy, just no longer locked up and ignoring the outside world completely, for he does have some vague sense that “if any help come[s] to him it must come from without; and there was a slight stirring of expectation at the sight of his fellow-men, a faint consciousness of dependence on their goodwill.” This stirring of humanity is not however actively or readily sought or accepted by Silas, it is only a means to an end: in other words, any means to get his gold back must be borne.
However, it could also be ventured that, in this unhappy state, Silas has formed of himself a ‘blank slate’ of sorts. He is ready to be shaped by the next significant event in his life, whether for good or bad depends on his fellow-men for Silas will never, in his present state, seek out a change.
Fortunately for Silas, the next episode of significance in his life is when he suffers a cataleptic fit whilst gazing at the road outside his house, “as if he thought that his money might be somehow coming back to him.” The door to his cottage is open, “powerless to resist either good or evil that might enter there.”
In a blatant, though not unpleasant, act of symbolism, it is not Silas’s gold that walks through his cottage door, but the gold-haired secret child of Godfrey Cass and his opium addict wife, Molly Farren, to whom Godfrey is locked to in shame and fear, for if their marriage was ever made known to his father, he would lose his inheritance.
The golden child is mistaken at first for Silas’s lost fortune, then for his long dead baby sister, then, most importantly, Silas construes the child as a sign:
“There was a vision of…Lantern Yard…the thoughts were strange to him now, like old friendships impossible to revive; and yet he had a dreamy feeling that this child was somehow a message come to him from that far-off life: it stirred fibers that had never been moved in Raveloe - old quiverings of tenderness - old impressions of awe at the presentiment of some Power presiding over his life…” This is the second turning post in Silas’s life, and it seems to me as if he has two alternatives open to him, either to reject the child and turn her over to the Parish, or to keep her and perhaps allow the “old quiverings of tenderness” to unfurl and flourish in the light of Eppie’s growing love for him.
Silas chooses to keep the child, “‘No - no - I can’t part with [the child], I can’t let it go,’ said Silas, abruptly. ‘It’s come to me - I’ve a right to keep it.’” Is this a genuine love for the child in need; or merely a transferal of Silas’s monomania for his gold to the golden-haired child? Initially, I believe Silas was merely covetous of Eppie’s physical resemblance to his lost gold, “[Silas] could only have said…the gold has turned into the child.” but within a very short space of time she becomes a new sort of treasure, for in keeping the child Silas reawakens in a mirror-image to Eppie’s growing maturity, “As the child’s mind was growing into knowledge, [Silas’s] mind was growing into memory: as her life unfolded, his soul, long stupefied in a cold narrow prison, was unfolding too, and trembling gradually into full consciousness.” and here we finally reach the beginnings of the main contemplation on what constitutes value in life in Silas Marner.
“The child created fresh and fresh links between [Silas’s] life and the lives from which he had hitherto shrunk [from] into narrower isolation.” Eppie becomes ‘an elixir of life’ for Silas, for though he does still seem to hold traces of a monomaniacal affection for her, it is a different kind of love than that which he held for his gold. It is a true human relationship, and loving relationships are what hold the greatest value in life, taking, for example, Silas’s growing friendship with the kindly Dolly Winthrop. George Eliot herself wrote, “I hope you will not find it at all a sad story as a whole, since it sets - or is intended to set - in a strong light the remedial influences of pure, natural human relations.”
Aside from proving the greatest value in life, the object of said relations must be alive themselves, “Unlike the gold which needed nothing (and, arguably, gave nothing), and must be worshipped in close-locked solitude - which was hidden away from the daylight, was deaf to the song of birds, and started to no human tones - Eppie was a creature of endless claims and ever-growing desires, seeking and loving sunshine, and living sounds, and living movements…and stirring the human kindness in all eyes that looked on her.”
Eppie is, in effect, Silas’s guiding guardian angel, “We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child’s.”
It is the simple pleasures such as enjoying the company of another that are given highest significance in Silas Marner. Indeed, even Godfrey admits that Eppie is “very likely to be happy, as people in humble situations often [are] - happier, perhaps, than those who are brought up in luxury.” This, I feel, is Godfrey attempting to assuage his guilt, rather than from any genuine conviction he has in the happiness of the poorer classes - for he is the first to extol the luxuries of the gentility - no, the key point that Godfrey misses, and indeed keeps on missing until the very end of the tale, is that truth and love make all the difference to a relationship, “The tender and peculiar love with which Silas had reared [Eppie] in…” is something which Godfrey cannot understand through the fog of his shame and indifference.
In contrast is Silas who, through the healing influence of Eppie, has unified his past and present memories and beliefs, “[Silas] had begun to ponder over the elements of his old faith, and blend them with his new impressions, till he recovered a consciousness of unity between his past and present.” It is so important to acknowledge and accept the past in order to continue on happily in life: “Silas momentarily identifies the new-found Eppie with his long-dead sister - an identification as crucial, in its way, as the more conspicuous gold-and-curls identification.” His recollection of “medicinal herbs and their preparation”, and his confiding to Dolly Winthrop of his wrongful expulsion from Lantern Yard, also reflect his recognition and acceptance of his pasts joys and failures.
As is revealed perfectly though Silas’s ever growing friendship with Dolly Winthrop, it is necessary to work at relationships, and be ever truthful, trusting and trustworthy, because the end result is worth all the discomfort you may experience, and all the betrayals you may suffer - you will find “pure, natural human relations” in the end. Or at the very least you will believe that “there’s good i’ this world”, and understand that the very worst things you can do are give up, as Silas did, and close yourself off from the world, or, perhaps worse, do as Godfrey did and deceive (if unwillingly) all around you - never leaving yourself open to the chance of redemption.
For as is revealed towards the end of the tale, Godfrey, who rejected Eppie (and the love she symbolizes) when he had the chance to claim her, now realizes his mistake too late to remedy the situation. Godfrey sought more fleeting pleasures, or more socially acceptable ones, and is now paying the price for his insecurity and insincerity:
“I suppose it is the way with all men who reach middle age without the clear perception that life never can be thoroughly joyous: under the vague dullness of the grey hours, dissatisfaction seeks a definite object, and finds it in the privation of an untried good. Dissatisfaction, seated musingly on a childless hearth, thinks with envy of the father whose return is greeted by young voices…”
True love and companionship sought and gained for no ulterior motives are more sustaining than love sought as an “untried good”, for satisfaction will never be found with such an attitude, for you cannot appreciate the present if you are always looking to the future for what you haven’t yet got, and may never have.
Eppie chooses to stay with Silas, for he is the true father who loved her all along, not only when he felt a selfish desire to own something new, “Marner was right in what he said about a man’s turning away a blessing from his door: it falls to somebody else.” Eppie and Silas share a loving “pure, natural human” relationship, and that is the greatest blessing, “‘O father,’ said Eppie, ‘…I think nobody could be happier than we are.”