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Elizabeth Gaskell
46 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 1971
About the author
Miriam Farris Allott
11 booksAllott, Miriam 1920-2010
Allott, Miriam Farris
Farris, Miriam 1920-2010
Allott, Miriam Farris
Farris, Miriam 1920-2010
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
November 14, 2011
I picked this book to review for an assignment because it was short. It wasn't particularly sweet.
September 1, 2026
Reading Miriam Allott’s Elizabeth Gaskell is a little like being introduced to Elizabeth Gaskell twice: first as the immensely sympathetic, observant Victorian writer whose novels have endured, and then as a writer whose limitations are impossible to ignore. What makes the book compelling is that Allott does not try to turn Gaskell into something she was not. Instead, she examines both sides of her talent—the warmth and humanity that make her work memorable, and the weaknesses of intellect, imagination, and narrative technique that prevent her from standing alongside the very greatest Victorian novelists.
Allott’s approach is essentially literary rather than purely biographical. She gives us enough of Gaskell’s life to understand where her fiction came from: her Unitarian upbringing, her Manchester years, her experiences among the poor, her marriage to William Gaskell, her friendship with Charlotte Brontë, and the country memories that became so important to her imaginative world. Gaskell emerges as someone whose writing was inseparable from her affections and sympathies. Allott repeatedly returns to this quality, suggesting that Gaskell’s particular genius grew less from abstract intellectual speculation than from her emotional responsiveness to people and circumstances.
The most interesting parts of the book are the discussions of Gaskell’s individual works. Allott is particularly persuasive when contrasting the social novels with the quieter works of country and provincial life. In Mary Barton and North and South, Gaskell’s humanitarian concerns are admirable, but Allott argues that her understanding of complex economic and social questions does not always match the ambition of her subject. North and South, for instance, contains fascinating tensions between employers and workers and a strong central relationship between Margaret Hale and Mr Thornton, but its economic debates and melodramatic elements can feel less convincing than its characters.
By contrast, Allott’s affection for Cranford, Cousin Phillis, and especially Wives and Daughters is infectious. Here Gaskell’s powers seem to settle naturally into place. Cranford succeeds through understatement, humour, observation, and an extraordinary sensitivity to social detail. Cousin Phillis allows her love of nature and rural life to work without the heavier burden of social argument. And Wives and Daughters represents, for Allott, the point at which Gaskell’s talents come closest to full maturity: character observation, humour, irony, emotional intelligence, and storytelling combine with remarkable ease.
I particularly enjoyed Allott’s attention to Gaskell’s sense of place. Her descriptions of houses, gardens, domestic interiors, countryside, and provincial communities are treated not merely as decoration but as an essential part of her understanding of character. This helps explain why Gaskell can sometimes feel more alive in a quiet domestic scene than when she is explicitly addressing the great political or economic questions of her age. Allott observes that Gaskell’s feeling for nature and country life is one of the sources of her most immediately attractive writing.
That said, Allott can be severe—sometimes fascinatingly so. Her criticism of Gaskell’s melodrama, conventional morality, and occasional lapses into cliché is sharp, particularly in her discussion of Ruth and Sylvia’s Lovers. There are moments when I found her judgments more categorical than necessary, but that is also part of the book’s appeal: Allott is not afraid to make an argument. She wants us to distinguish between Gaskell’s genuine achievements and the sentimental or structurally awkward elements that can weaken them.
Ultimately, I came away with a greater appreciation for Gaskell precisely because Allott refuses to place her on an artificial pedestal. She may not have the intellectual range of George Eliot or the towering narrative power of Dickens, but her combination of social conscience, humour, sympathy, domestic observation, and emotional generosity gives her work a distinctive durability. Allott’s final assessment is a fitting one: Gaskell’s achievement may be “minor” in comparison with the giants of Victorian fiction, but it is nevertheless genuine and important—and her books continue to appeal because there is so much life and humanity in them.
For anyone interested in Gaskell, Victorian fiction, or literary criticism itself, this is a rewarding little study. It doesn't merely tell us why Gaskell matters; it makes us look more carefully at how she succeeds, where she fails, and why the former ultimately matters more than the latter.
Allott’s approach is essentially literary rather than purely biographical. She gives us enough of Gaskell’s life to understand where her fiction came from: her Unitarian upbringing, her Manchester years, her experiences among the poor, her marriage to William Gaskell, her friendship with Charlotte Brontë, and the country memories that became so important to her imaginative world. Gaskell emerges as someone whose writing was inseparable from her affections and sympathies. Allott repeatedly returns to this quality, suggesting that Gaskell’s particular genius grew less from abstract intellectual speculation than from her emotional responsiveness to people and circumstances.
The most interesting parts of the book are the discussions of Gaskell’s individual works. Allott is particularly persuasive when contrasting the social novels with the quieter works of country and provincial life. In Mary Barton and North and South, Gaskell’s humanitarian concerns are admirable, but Allott argues that her understanding of complex economic and social questions does not always match the ambition of her subject. North and South, for instance, contains fascinating tensions between employers and workers and a strong central relationship between Margaret Hale and Mr Thornton, but its economic debates and melodramatic elements can feel less convincing than its characters.
By contrast, Allott’s affection for Cranford, Cousin Phillis, and especially Wives and Daughters is infectious. Here Gaskell’s powers seem to settle naturally into place. Cranford succeeds through understatement, humour, observation, and an extraordinary sensitivity to social detail. Cousin Phillis allows her love of nature and rural life to work without the heavier burden of social argument. And Wives and Daughters represents, for Allott, the point at which Gaskell’s talents come closest to full maturity: character observation, humour, irony, emotional intelligence, and storytelling combine with remarkable ease.
I particularly enjoyed Allott’s attention to Gaskell’s sense of place. Her descriptions of houses, gardens, domestic interiors, countryside, and provincial communities are treated not merely as decoration but as an essential part of her understanding of character. This helps explain why Gaskell can sometimes feel more alive in a quiet domestic scene than when she is explicitly addressing the great political or economic questions of her age. Allott observes that Gaskell’s feeling for nature and country life is one of the sources of her most immediately attractive writing.
That said, Allott can be severe—sometimes fascinatingly so. Her criticism of Gaskell’s melodrama, conventional morality, and occasional lapses into cliché is sharp, particularly in her discussion of Ruth and Sylvia’s Lovers. There are moments when I found her judgments more categorical than necessary, but that is also part of the book’s appeal: Allott is not afraid to make an argument. She wants us to distinguish between Gaskell’s genuine achievements and the sentimental or structurally awkward elements that can weaken them.
Ultimately, I came away with a greater appreciation for Gaskell precisely because Allott refuses to place her on an artificial pedestal. She may not have the intellectual range of George Eliot or the towering narrative power of Dickens, but her combination of social conscience, humour, sympathy, domestic observation, and emotional generosity gives her work a distinctive durability. Allott’s final assessment is a fitting one: Gaskell’s achievement may be “minor” in comparison with the giants of Victorian fiction, but it is nevertheless genuine and important—and her books continue to appeal because there is so much life and humanity in them.
For anyone interested in Gaskell, Victorian fiction, or literary criticism itself, this is a rewarding little study. It doesn't merely tell us why Gaskell matters; it makes us look more carefully at how she succeeds, where she fails, and why the former ultimately matters more than the latter.
October 30, 2026
Very short 'book' it also could be called a pamphlet.
➡️ Length = 46 pages
If you have NOT read all of Gaskell's work I encourage you not to read this, for this booklet talks about each (or most) of the books that she wrote. And in doing so giving away many of the key elements in the individual stories. I was unaware of this so when I came across this the books that I have not read, I quickly skimmed threw, as not to spoil her books.
QUOTE
" At the hight if her [Gaskell] fame, one of her friends tells us " she was more proud of her cows and poultry, pigs and vegetables, then she was of her literary triumphs"
➡️ Length = 46 pages
If you have NOT read all of Gaskell's work I encourage you not to read this, for this booklet talks about each (or most) of the books that she wrote. And in doing so giving away many of the key elements in the individual stories. I was unaware of this so when I came across this the books that I have not read, I quickly skimmed threw, as not to spoil her books.
QUOTE
" At the hight if her [Gaskell] fame, one of her friends tells us " she was more proud of her cows and poultry, pigs and vegetables, then she was of her literary triumphs"
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews