What do you think?
Rate this book
Jewish Odyssey of George Eliot
It is one of the curiosities of history that the most remarkable novel about Jews and Judaism, predicting the establishment of the Jewish state, should have been written in 1876 by a non-Jew – a Victorian woman and a formidable intellectual, who is generally regarded as one of the greatest of English novelists. And it is still more curious that Daniel Deronda, George Eliot’s last novel, should have been dismissed, by many of her admirers at the time and by some critics since, as something of an anomaly, an inexplicable and unfortunate turn in her life and work.
Yet Eliot herself was passionately committed to that novel, having prepared herself for it by an extraordinary feat of scholarly research in five languages (including Hebrew), exploring the ancient, medieval, and modern sources of Jewish history. Three years later, to reenforce that commitment, she wrote an essay, the very last of her writing, reaffirming the heritage of the Jewish “nation” and the desirability of a Jewish state – this well before the founders of Zionism had conceived of that mission.
Why did this Victorian novelist, born a Christian and an early convert to agnosticism, write a book so respectful of Judaism and so prescient about Zionism? And why at a time when there were no pogroms or persecutions to provoke her? What was the general conception of the “Jewish question,” and how did Eliot reinterpret that “question,” for her time as well as ours?
Gertrude Himmelfarb, a leading Victorian scholar, has undertaken to unravel the mysteries of Daniel Deronda. And the mysteries of Eliot herself: a novelist who deliberately wrote a book she knew would bewilder many of her readers, a distinguished woman who opposed the enfranchisement of women, a moralist who flouted the most venerable of marital conventions – above all, the author of a novel that is still an inspiration or provocation to readers and critics alike.
Yet Eliot herself was passionately committed to that novel, having prepared herself for it by an extraordinary feat of scholarly research in five languages (including Hebrew), exploring the ancient, medieval, and modern sources of Jewish history. Three years later, to reenforce that commitment, she wrote an essay, the very last of her writing, reaffirming the heritage of the Jewish “nation” and the desirability of a Jewish state – this well before the founders of Zionism had conceived of that mission.
Why did this Victorian novelist, born a Christian and an early convert to agnosticism, write a book so respectful of Judaism and so prescient about Zionism? And why at a time when there were no pogroms or persecutions to provoke her? What was the general conception of the “Jewish question,” and how did Eliot reinterpret that “question,” for her time as well as ours?
Gertrude Himmelfarb, a leading Victorian scholar, has undertaken to unravel the mysteries of Daniel Deronda. And the mysteries of Eliot herself: a novelist who deliberately wrote a book she knew would bewilder many of her readers, a distinguished woman who opposed the enfranchisement of women, a moralist who flouted the most venerable of marital conventions – above all, the author of a novel that is still an inspiration or provocation to readers and critics alike.
250 pages, Hardcover
First published May 1, 2009
9 people are currently reading
104 people want to read
About the author
Gertrude Himmelfarb
58 books44 followersGertrude Himmelfarb, also known as Bea Kristol, was an American historian. She was a leader and conservative interpretations of history and historiography. She wrote extensively on intellectual history, with a focus on Britain and the Victorian era, as well as on contemporary society and culture.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
July 10, 2016
As every Goodreads member knows, books are like relationships; some are short-term, while others are lifelong love affairs. And as anyone who reads my reviews (or my livejournal or my Facebook updates) knows, I’m at the beginning of a lifelong love affair with Daniel Deronda. I’ve been contemplating taking on the major commitments of either writing a sequel to it or a Master’s thesis about it. (Note that I’m not even in grad school.) And so, the first step in my research was this book.
Now I’m the first to admit that my expectations going into this book were high. The main questions I wanted answered were about Eliot's experiences in the Jewish community of Frankfurt, which she visited as part of her research for the novel. Did she encounter Rav Hirsch’s kehilla? Did she meet Rabbi Lehman, who rewrote her book into a romance-free kosher version for the Jewish community called Between Two Worlds?
Unfortunately, the book did not answer any of these questions. That would have been George Eliot’s Jewish journey. This book was her intellectual odyssey, how she went from Christian to radical to admirer of the Jews. As someone who’s gone through similar shifts (liberal to radical to Orthodox Jew), I could completely relate. How I wish I could meet George Eliot personally! And what a scholar she was! As far as I can tell, she far surpassed my previously idolized Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte in that regard.
But while George Eliot’s intellectual history is the main theme of the book, it also addresses the “Jewish question” as it played out in Enlightenment era England, France, and Germany. This section brought me right back to Rabbi Wein’s audio series, “The Winds of Change,” except there was more discussion of the leading secular thinkers of the day. (Did you know Mendelssohn, founder of the Reform movement, beat Immanuel Kant in a competition for a scholarship? Fascinating!) There are also quotes from Eliot’s later essay, “The Modern Hep! Hep! Hep!,” which refers to the cry of the Crusaders. (I was hoping to read the original in its entirety, but I guess that’s a different book.) And in the epilogue there’s an assessment of Eliot’s Zionism in light of the existence of the State of Israel.
The most enjoyable part of all, though, was the discussion of the novel. The author brings in the voices of numerous literary critics and gives her own analysis of the characters, with particular attention to Mordechai and the character who rebels against Judaism. (No spoilers.) But as much as I enjoyed it, there was one glaring omission for me. What about Mirah? Particularly because of the feminist analysis, my temptation now is to title my thesis, “In Defense of Mirah,” though I’m still hoping to write “George Eliot in Frankfurt” and “Daniel Deronda and Teshuva.”
So I finished this book with an increase in my knowledge, but an even bigger hunger for more information. I’m hoping to get in touch with the author, perhaps even to meet her personally; she lives in New York. She’s a retired professor. Perhaps she can advise me about my thesis.
Funny, I used to be so reticent about communicating my big ambitions. But I figure, I’m not going to get this done if I don’t develop a cheering committee for myself. May Hashem help that all our ambitions result in good for the world.
Now I’m the first to admit that my expectations going into this book were high. The main questions I wanted answered were about Eliot's experiences in the Jewish community of Frankfurt, which she visited as part of her research for the novel. Did she encounter Rav Hirsch’s kehilla? Did she meet Rabbi Lehman, who rewrote her book into a romance-free kosher version for the Jewish community called Between Two Worlds?
Unfortunately, the book did not answer any of these questions. That would have been George Eliot’s Jewish journey. This book was her intellectual odyssey, how she went from Christian to radical to admirer of the Jews. As someone who’s gone through similar shifts (liberal to radical to Orthodox Jew), I could completely relate. How I wish I could meet George Eliot personally! And what a scholar she was! As far as I can tell, she far surpassed my previously idolized Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte in that regard.
But while George Eliot’s intellectual history is the main theme of the book, it also addresses the “Jewish question” as it played out in Enlightenment era England, France, and Germany. This section brought me right back to Rabbi Wein’s audio series, “The Winds of Change,” except there was more discussion of the leading secular thinkers of the day. (Did you know Mendelssohn, founder of the Reform movement, beat Immanuel Kant in a competition for a scholarship? Fascinating!) There are also quotes from Eliot’s later essay, “The Modern Hep! Hep! Hep!,” which refers to the cry of the Crusaders. (I was hoping to read the original in its entirety, but I guess that’s a different book.) And in the epilogue there’s an assessment of Eliot’s Zionism in light of the existence of the State of Israel.
The most enjoyable part of all, though, was the discussion of the novel. The author brings in the voices of numerous literary critics and gives her own analysis of the characters, with particular attention to Mordechai and the character who rebels against Judaism. (No spoilers.) But as much as I enjoyed it, there was one glaring omission for me. What about Mirah? Particularly because of the feminist analysis, my temptation now is to title my thesis, “In Defense of Mirah,” though I’m still hoping to write “George Eliot in Frankfurt” and “Daniel Deronda and Teshuva.”
So I finished this book with an increase in my knowledge, but an even bigger hunger for more information. I’m hoping to get in touch with the author, perhaps even to meet her personally; she lives in New York. She’s a retired professor. Perhaps she can advise me about my thesis.
Funny, I used to be so reticent about communicating my big ambitions. But I figure, I’m not going to get this done if I don’t develop a cheering committee for myself. May Hashem help that all our ambitions result in good for the world.
March 14, 2024
An excellent short book about how George Eliot came to write Daniel Deronda, the broader philosophical and intellectual questions the book was engaged in, and some about its afterlife. It vividly portrays just how intellectually engaged George Eliot was, situating her novel in a broader set of political philosophical debates about the meaning of citizenship, nationality, rationality, and religion.
The book is well organized in six parts that cover: (1) the debates over the "Jewish question" in France, Germany and the UK--the big question being whether Jews could be citizens of countries, especially ones like England that were based on an official state religion, (2) George Eliot's initiation into this question, including through some of the work she did as a translator engaging with important texts that debated it, (3) a summary of Daniel Deronda, focusing on the ways it was in philosophical dialogue about this issue, (4) a discussion of an essay she wrote after Daniel Deronda expanding on the Jewish themes, and (5) a discussion of the changing reception to Daniel Deronda, from skepticism about the Jewish parts, to her falling out favor, to her regaining stature.
I learned both some interesting intellectual history and gained even greater appreciation for George Eliot.
The book is well organized in six parts that cover: (1) the debates over the "Jewish question" in France, Germany and the UK--the big question being whether Jews could be citizens of countries, especially ones like England that were based on an official state religion, (2) George Eliot's initiation into this question, including through some of the work she did as a translator engaging with important texts that debated it, (3) a summary of Daniel Deronda, focusing on the ways it was in philosophical dialogue about this issue, (4) a discussion of an essay she wrote after Daniel Deronda expanding on the Jewish themes, and (5) a discussion of the changing reception to Daniel Deronda, from skepticism about the Jewish parts, to her falling out favor, to her regaining stature.
I learned both some interesting intellectual history and gained even greater appreciation for George Eliot.
January 24, 2025
Having just completed my first time reading of Eliot's Daniel Deronda, I eagerly dived into this review of her relationship to Jews and Judaism, and the critics' relationship to her book. It was great!
My initial conclusion regarding Deronda was that, indeed, there seemed to be two books here, one a marriage plot set in English high society, and one a philosophical exploration of Judaism, Jewishness, and Jewish nationalism. Most of the critics liked or loved the first book, and ignored, hated, or despised the second book. For me, the second book was the entire reason to read the first book. I wanted to understand Eliot's take on all things Jewish.
Why did the first book exist at all? I think the reason is fairly obvious. Eliot wanted to seduce conventional English literary society with a conventional marriage drama until she had her audience wrapped in a familiar reality, where it could tut-tut about money, manners, marital cruelty and the like. Into that familiar story she begins to slowly drip hints of her real interest - Jews and Judaism. She must have known she could not simply start talking about these matters as an opening. The prevailing antisemitism of her day would have led readers to simply dismiss the entire book. A conventional and familiar setting and drama was essential to ensure an audience for her Jewish exploration.
Once she does introduce Jewish characters she faced the problem of how to make Jews an acceptable subject for any kind of novel. Her solution, to make the orphan Mirah sweet and pure beyond words, and to make the dying philosopher Mordechai Ezra sincere and almost prophetic, were chosen to combat the prejudice with which Jewish characters might be seen. And she went further, portraying Jewish life and thought from within, not as English society saw Jews but as Jews saw themselves, from assimilationists to nationalists, from lovers of Judaism to those who sought to flee from it, from lovers of family life to those who hated its confinements. It is true that some of her central characters in the Jewish story are sachrine and too sweet to be plausible, and it is true that Mordechai Ezra often seems more like a vehicle for philosophical argument than a living person, but these were the ideas with which she wanted to wrestle. How else was she to bring them to the drawing rooms and libraries of polite English society?
The fact that her efforts largely failed in the English literary world, which evinced little sympathy for Jews or the Jewish national question, does not make the effort any less praiseworthy. She was looking deep forward into history and tracing a pattern and a trend before it had even begun to emerge. Herzel himself, the father of modern Zionism, cited Deronda as one of the earliest manifestations of the practical political reconstitution of the Jewish nation. Those who hate Zionism easily now drop her in a box of colonial minded haters. Those of us who are proud supporters of Zionism see her early articulation of the Jewish national reconstitution as visionary. But good or bad, she was early and she peered into the future and saw something before it became real.
Daniel Deronda is the one of the very first books of modern Zionism, wrapped in a conventional English marriage drama. If you think that the marriage drama is the good part, you've probably missed Eliot's whole point.
The character of Deronda is, I believe, Eliot's own re-imagining of her better self, discovering through her Hebrew and Judaic studies, a secret felt identity as a Jew. Raised in English society, she imagines Deronda's gradual discovery of his own Jewish identity just as she, through her studies, began to feel a kinship to the Jewish people. He is her avatar. This book is called "Daniel Deronda," not "Gwendolen and Mr. Grandcourt." She is comfortable rendering those two English characters - she had lived her life surrounded by such high and middle society types. In contrast, Deronda, Mordechai Ezra, Mirah, and Deronda's mother were characters whom she had to imagine in a new way, characters whose concerns came to her later in life, through study and social contacts. They do not ring quite as true in her telling, and except for Deronda are not fully realized with complete internal lives, but they and their perspectives and experiences are the reason for the novel.
This book by Gertrude Himmelfarb provides essential historical and critical background for understanding all of these nuances, literary critical, historical, and philosophical. I recommend it highly.
My initial conclusion regarding Deronda was that, indeed, there seemed to be two books here, one a marriage plot set in English high society, and one a philosophical exploration of Judaism, Jewishness, and Jewish nationalism. Most of the critics liked or loved the first book, and ignored, hated, or despised the second book. For me, the second book was the entire reason to read the first book. I wanted to understand Eliot's take on all things Jewish.
Why did the first book exist at all? I think the reason is fairly obvious. Eliot wanted to seduce conventional English literary society with a conventional marriage drama until she had her audience wrapped in a familiar reality, where it could tut-tut about money, manners, marital cruelty and the like. Into that familiar story she begins to slowly drip hints of her real interest - Jews and Judaism. She must have known she could not simply start talking about these matters as an opening. The prevailing antisemitism of her day would have led readers to simply dismiss the entire book. A conventional and familiar setting and drama was essential to ensure an audience for her Jewish exploration.
Once she does introduce Jewish characters she faced the problem of how to make Jews an acceptable subject for any kind of novel. Her solution, to make the orphan Mirah sweet and pure beyond words, and to make the dying philosopher Mordechai Ezra sincere and almost prophetic, were chosen to combat the prejudice with which Jewish characters might be seen. And she went further, portraying Jewish life and thought from within, not as English society saw Jews but as Jews saw themselves, from assimilationists to nationalists, from lovers of Judaism to those who sought to flee from it, from lovers of family life to those who hated its confinements. It is true that some of her central characters in the Jewish story are sachrine and too sweet to be plausible, and it is true that Mordechai Ezra often seems more like a vehicle for philosophical argument than a living person, but these were the ideas with which she wanted to wrestle. How else was she to bring them to the drawing rooms and libraries of polite English society?
The fact that her efforts largely failed in the English literary world, which evinced little sympathy for Jews or the Jewish national question, does not make the effort any less praiseworthy. She was looking deep forward into history and tracing a pattern and a trend before it had even begun to emerge. Herzel himself, the father of modern Zionism, cited Deronda as one of the earliest manifestations of the practical political reconstitution of the Jewish nation. Those who hate Zionism easily now drop her in a box of colonial minded haters. Those of us who are proud supporters of Zionism see her early articulation of the Jewish national reconstitution as visionary. But good or bad, she was early and she peered into the future and saw something before it became real.
Daniel Deronda is the one of the very first books of modern Zionism, wrapped in a conventional English marriage drama. If you think that the marriage drama is the good part, you've probably missed Eliot's whole point.
The character of Deronda is, I believe, Eliot's own re-imagining of her better self, discovering through her Hebrew and Judaic studies, a secret felt identity as a Jew. Raised in English society, she imagines Deronda's gradual discovery of his own Jewish identity just as she, through her studies, began to feel a kinship to the Jewish people. He is her avatar. This book is called "Daniel Deronda," not "Gwendolen and Mr. Grandcourt." She is comfortable rendering those two English characters - she had lived her life surrounded by such high and middle society types. In contrast, Deronda, Mordechai Ezra, Mirah, and Deronda's mother were characters whom she had to imagine in a new way, characters whose concerns came to her later in life, through study and social contacts. They do not ring quite as true in her telling, and except for Deronda are not fully realized with complete internal lives, but they and their perspectives and experiences are the reason for the novel.
This book by Gertrude Himmelfarb provides essential historical and critical background for understanding all of these nuances, literary critical, historical, and philosophical. I recommend it highly.
Read
July 11, 2021A brilliant study of a strange book and its gifted and influential author. Eliot wrote this work after becoming disillusioned, it seems, with her dispatching of the Christian God from her universe, seeking to retain a sort of morality - especially a sense of moral duty to others -- with no metaphysical basis. Daniel Deronda is an English gentleman who eventually discovers that he is fact Jewish and is reunited with his mother who now despises Judaism. Deronda embraces his heritage and becomes a devout Zionist -- well before Zionism was really on the radar screen of the Jewish community (and even when it became a factor was opposed by most religious Jews!). Although Eliot found in Judaism a religion she could admire, she did not convert. Almost a Jew, but not quite ready to believe in any God. But her embrace of Zionism was very significant, almost making her a saint in the pantheon of secular Zionists.
November 18, 2009
A very interesting short treatise (154 pages) on the motivations that led George Eliot to write her last novel with a Jewish protagonist. In Daniel Deronda she has created a character who finds his Jewish roots and eventually becomes an avid Zionist. She was primarily self-taught through a voluminous amount of reading (the Talmud, medieval sages, Maimonides and higher biblical criticism) and translations of Hebrew texts. Surprisingly, she had mixed opinions about Jews, "my gentile nature kicks most resolutely against any assumption of superiority in the Jews...everything specifically Jewish is of a low grade." Then in turn, she creates one of the most sympathetic Jewish characters in Victorian literature. Remember, this was the time when Dickens was creating Fagin in Oliver Twist. This book does a fine job of describing the dichotimy of her life. She is supremely independent, assumes a male pen name, yet considers herself a conservative politically and refuses to support the enfranchisement of women. While Eliot is unsparing in describing Jewish vices, she is equally impressed by their virtues. Many of the issues she depicts in Deronda are still prevalent today, such as assimilation, anti-Semitism,Jewish self-hatred, and she was prescient in predicting a Jewish homeland. Himmelfarb does a wonderful job describing how relevant the themes in this book remain today. She reminds us of the fact that Eliot wrote Deronda long before the Holocaust and that ELiot did not view a homeland for the Jewish people "as a refuge for desperate people,...Jewish identity for Deronda was not imposed upon them by others, ...it was Judaism, the religion and the people, that created the Jewish state." As can be expected, the "Jewish element" of the novel was not well received by the public (it was published in two parts, the English part and the "Jewish" half), except of course, among Jews, who were delighted with her portrayal and the accuracy of her novel. She was remarkably brave in writing a novel which she knew in advance would "satisfy nobody" and would probably be received with repugnance. This is a book I would highly recommend reading in conjunction with the novel as it will provide great insight to the characters and the politics of the era.
February 10, 2014
If you like George Eliot's books you should read this short essay. It is one that any reader can understand and enjoy. Here are some of the highlights of her life, her strong personality and individualism against the prejudices of her day. She was an honest intellectual: a rare species at any given time in history. She cared for Judaism and Jews before the Holocaust or the Dreyfuss affair took place, when Jews were the usual suspects, the easy prey; she demanded a right for a national home for the Jews in Palestine when it was not yet an issue (a right that Muslims already enjoyed multiple times).
A courageous woman indeed. Daniel Deronda was her last novel, right after Middlemarch, her greatest book and one of the very best in the English language. I recommend that you read the book before you read this essay. There is also a section on how the critics of her time received the book (Daniel Deronda) -which for the most part was not positive, specifically due to the Jewish element in it, which section is probably the least interesting of this essay.
George Eliot was an intellectual giant, a size only matched by her honesty, straightforwardness independence and compassion. She was no blind follower of the crowd; a serf to nobody; a truly great writer with her heart in the right place.
A courageous woman indeed. Daniel Deronda was her last novel, right after Middlemarch, her greatest book and one of the very best in the English language. I recommend that you read the book before you read this essay. There is also a section on how the critics of her time received the book (Daniel Deronda) -which for the most part was not positive, specifically due to the Jewish element in it, which section is probably the least interesting of this essay.
George Eliot was an intellectual giant, a size only matched by her honesty, straightforwardness independence and compassion. She was no blind follower of the crowd; a serf to nobody; a truly great writer with her heart in the right place.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews