Silas Marner is the best-known of George Elliot's seven full-length novels. It is set in the fictional town of Raveloe, England, in the early 19th century and tells the story of a solitary bachelor who adopts a small child under unusual circumstances.
For anyone who doesn’t know, George Elliot is the pen name for the 19th century novelist Mary Ann Evans. Silas Marner is the third of her seven full-length novels (not counting Scenes of Clerical Life, a collection of novellas). Although not considered her masterpiece—that distinction goes to Middlemarch—Silas Marner is the one that is most often assigned to students in high school and college, possibly because it is shorter than Middlemarch.
I had to read this novel decades ago in high school and enjoyed it so much that I decided to reread it this year. It is a wonderful story that generations of readers have enjoyed. Elliot takes an unlikely idea—a middle-aged bachelor who has lived alone for 15 years and, through unusual circumstances, adopts a small child—and makes it believable. Elliot’s use of early 19th century dialog in rural England is well done (I can only assume that it is accurate, since I would have no way of knowing). Having said that, this time around I did find fault with the author’s style. It has been many years since I have read a 19th century novel, so I don’t know how Elliot’s style compares to that of Charles Dickens, who was a contemporary (Elliot, 1819-1880; Dickens, 1812-1870), or other 19th century English writers. (As an aside, Dickens and the American poet Emily Dickinson were both great admirers of Elliot’s work.) Elliot doesn’t appear to understand the difference between a restrictive and non-restrictive clause and makes numerous comma mistakes. While this may seem pedantic, errors in punctuation make it more difficult for the reader; and when the errors are frequent, they can be extremely annoying. Second, Elliot frequently pontificates, as if to demonstrate her wisdom, when the reader would prefer for her to get on with the story. In fairness to Elliot, this may be a characteristic of most novels prior to the 20th century. In any case, here is an example from Chapter 13, which also illustrates her inability to use commas correctly:
“The prevarication and white lies which a mind that keeps itself ambitiously pure is as uneasy under as a great artist under the false touches that no eye detects but his own, are worn as lightly as mere trimmings when once the actions have become a lie.”
For these reasons, I struggled to decide whether to rate this novel a “4” or a “5.” On balance, the storyline is extremely well done with everything tied up nicely by the end, and you would have to search long and far to find a more heartwarming story. I don’t want to dissuade potential readers from purchasing the book; therefore, in the end, I decided to give it a “5.” Just be forewarned that there will be sentences—and sometimes paragraphs—that you will need to reread more than once to make sense of them.
I should also point out that I read the 2021 edition published by SeaWolf Press, which contains the illustrations by Hugh Thomson from the 1907 MacMillan edition. Thomson’s illustrations are very good, and I think that most readers will find that they greatly enhance the reading experience. Accordingly, I encourage interested readers to consider purchasing this edition.