Classics and the Western Canon discussion

In which we are introduced to Gwendolen Harleth, "The Spoiled Child."

Is she really spoiled? And if so, is that the main thing to say about her, or does she have other aspects to her character that either mitigate or accentuate her spoiledness?

I went back to review Chapter 1, and found a lot in it that I had missed the first time around.

The descriptions of Gwendolen seem quite different from the impression I got from the chapters back in England. Particularly that first paragraph:

Was she beautiful or not beautiful? and what was the secret of form or expression which gave the dynamic quality to her glance? Was the good or the evil genius dominant in those beams? Probably the evil; else why was the effect that of unrest rather than of undisturbed charm? Why was the wish to look again felt as coercion and not as a longing in which the whole being consents?

Evil? That seems a strong word to use of a perhaps beautiful young woman. Yet Eliot seems to emphasize the evil later in the chapter:

"A striking girl—that Miss Harleth—unlike others."
"Yes, she has got herself up as a sort of serpent now—all green and silver, and winds her neck about a little more than usual."

Whenever a serpent is mentioned in literature, one cannot avoid going back to Genesis and the entry of evil into the world. And Eliot herself drives this point in, if it needed driving in, a few lines later:

"Woman was tempted by a serpent; why not man?"

She is called evil, she is linked with Satan. But is this really a fair portrayal of the Gwendolen we see in the rest of Book 1? Or is Eliot setting us up for something more sinister to come (keeping in mind that those who read Book 1 had to wait a full month until Book 2 would come out, so lots of time for reflection on what might be coming).

It is interesting that the title character is seen for only a few brief glimpses before disappearing for the rest of Book 1. Yet already we know that there is, and presumably will be in future, some special relationship between them. That they are both drawn to the sight of each other Eliot makes very clear.

"She who raised these questions in Daniel Deronda's mind ..."

"...in the course of that survey her eyes met Deronda's, and instead of averting them as she would have desired to do, she was unpleasantly conscious that they were arrested—how long?"

"The inward debate which she raised in Deronda..."

"The remark that Gwendolen wound her neck about more than usual this evening was true. But it was not that she might carry out the serpent idea more completely: it was that she watched for any chance of seeing Deronda, so that she might inquire about this stranger, under whose measuring gaze she was still wincing. "

"He [Deronda] is reported to be rather closely related to the baronet. You are interested in him?"
"Yes. I think he is not like young men in general."

And then the return of the necklace. G automatically assumes it must have been DD. Is she logically justified in making this assumption, or is it a matter of wishful hoping?

Then having established this linkage but without any meeting of the two, Eliot whisks us back to England, and for the rest of Book 1 DD is nowhere mentioned. It's an interesting approach to establishing for us the fact of a relationship without the existence of any actual relationship, isn't it?

I couldn't help but notice that this book begins (at a gaming table) where Vanity Fair ends. Will this beautiful young lady have a different ending than Becky Sharp?

One thing I noticed on re-reading Chapter 1 is that we are told that Daniel Deronda

"is lately come to our hotel with Sir Hugo Mallinger."
"Sir Hugo Mallinger?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
"No." (Gwendolen colored slightly.) "He has a place near us, but he never comes to it. "

And later she is told "he is related to Sir Hugo Mallinger."

And of course we come across Sir Hugo again near the end of Book 1 where he is letting Diplow Hall, and we get that wonderful cliffhanger right at the end of Chapter 10:

"Miss Harleth, here is a gentleman who is not willing to wait any longer for an introduction. He has been getting Mrs. Davilow to send me with him. Will you allow me to introduce Mr. Mallinger Grandcourt?"

And the original readership had to wait a month for to see the actual meeting.

One question, though. Why did Gwen color slightly when Sir Hugo's name was mentioned? Have we been given any inkling of why that would have happened? If not, is Eliot setting something up for us???

Hi, I am new to the group and love it! I did read the Holiday interims, but this is my first time commenting. You are right Eliot does seem to portray her as evil (serpent reference and the beginning of the chapter), well spotted. I will have to keep an eye on that, perhaps, being a woman, she is unwillingly "evil", becoming so by her feminine impulsion to attract, to tempt Deronda (not even that she is attracted to him, but at least intrigued? Just throwing ideas out there :p Also, needless to say the beginning scene obviously reminds me of Dostoyevsky's Gambler. In the first chapter, as she's writing about a man's betting strategy, it reads: "It could surely be no severity of system, but rather some dream of white crows, or the induction that the eigth of the month was lucky, which inspired the fierce yet tottering impulsiveness of his play." This reminded me of Dostoyevsky saying how it was impossible to approach a betting table without becoming embroiled in superstition even if you are very sensible (my words not his, summarized)..

This book seems like a pretty big challenge so I'll probably be following with your insights and commenting and that'll help me a lot. Please forgive if in the future I make certain spelling mistakes I am not as accustomed to English as most, being francophone, but wanted to read this book in its original language. so have fun reading this everyone I am, myself, very intrigued :)

David wrote: "Please forgive if in the future I make certain spelling mistakes I am not as accustomed to English as most, being francophone"

You could have fooled me. You write like a very well educated English-as-first-language writer.

I was also struck by the serpent references and then later surprised by the description in the rest of book 1. Maybe Gwendolen is dangerous in the way that beautiful women are dangerous- using their beauty to progress in life.
Or maybe something will happen to her later in book 2 to make her 'evil'.
It may also be that for Deronda, Gwendolen warrants a second look and he sees beyond her mere beauty to an unhappy soul affected by severe and hopeless circumstances- I think this most likely.
What I enjoy is that we are given a view of Gwendolen form Deronda's eyes that is far more complex than what we see at first, something will happen to this indulged young lady that will emipotiinal strength.
Although Gwendolen is spoilt and selfish, I have thus far not disliked her, she is behaving the way that she is raised to behave. I thought that Eliot may be commenting on how Victorian women, especially form the upper classes, were raised purely to pursue husbands and not for much other use. Gwendolen is intelligent and quick witted, an attribute admired in a man, yet frowned upon in a woman

Everyman wrote: "In which we are introduced to Gwendolen Harleth, "The Spoiled Child."

Is she really spoiled? And if so, is that the main thing to say about her, or does she have other aspects to her character t..."

The question isn't easy to answer. My initial response was to say 'yes, she's spoiled', but when I closely looked at the definition of spoil: "to damage or injure in such a way as to make useless, valueless; destroy" Webster's New World Dictionary, I'm not sure that the label is accurate; possibly there is some irony in the label.

I think of the men in her life; her uncle, the hunters, Rex, etc., I wouldn't think they would view her as useless or valueless. In fact, nor do the women in her life view her as spoiled; her mother, her aunt, her friends. Many of the qualities that she displays are those of English aristocrats at that time. On the other hand, she holds a very high opinion of herself, or at least attempts to present herself to the world as self assured. What Gwendolen thinks of herself may portray a different story - a woman who is unsure of herself and constantly needs to reassure herself of her beauty, her most important asset in the society in which she lives.

If my initial observations prove incorrect, then the associated question is: who is the spoiler? Her mother, the class of people she has grown up with?

Everyman wrote: "It is interesting that the title character is seen for only a few brief glimpses before disappearing for the rest of Book 1. Yet already we know that there is, and presumably will be in future, so

And then the return of the necklace. G automatically assumes it must have been DD. Is she logically justified in making this assumption, or is it a matter of wishful hoping?
..."

I'm guessing Deronda bought and returned the necklace.

Everyman wrote @ msg 5: "One question, though. Why did Gwen color slightly when Sir Hugo's name was mentioned? Have we been given any inkling of why that would have happened? If not, is Eliot setting something up for us???
..."

I'm guessing that she blushes because she becomes aware of the possibility of seeing Deronda again because he is loosely connected to the area where she lives through his connection with Sir Hugo.

Edit: I just read Everyman's quote above and now I'm wondering if Gwendolen blushed because she is embarrassed because she knows she and her family are not of the same social standing Sir Hugo Mallinger.

This could be a novel about class differences!

Elizabeth wrote: "Everyman wrote: "In which we are introduced to Gwendolen Harleth, "The Spoiled Child."

Is she really spoiled? And if so, is that the main thing to say about her, or does she have other aspects t..."

This is an interesting question, and I agree that it's surprisingly difficult to answer. To say she was spoiled brings up her upbringing, and I'm wondering how much of her personality is due to her nature rather than nurture. My general impression is that Gwendolen is self-willed and obstinate to a point that is unaccounted for by her upbringing. And to the extent that circumstances shape her personality, I think I'd sooner call her damaged than spoiled.

This is all based on my general impressions though. I think I will reread some of the passages to form and perhaps modify my opinion. :)

Laurele wrote: "I couldn't help but notice that this book begins (at a gaming table) where Vanity Fair ends. Will this beautiful young lady have a different ending than Becky Sharp?"

Neat observation! Let's remember to come back to it in the last week or two.

Lisa wrote: "I was also struck by the serpent references and then later surprised by the description in the rest of book 1. Maybe Gwendolen is dangerous in the way that beautiful women are dangerous- using their beauty to progress in life. "

I wonder whether there is any connection between your observation and the fact that Eliot herself was considered singularly unattractive -- even, Henry James claimed, "magnificently ugly, deliciously hideous."

And since both beauty and sexual attraction have taken center stage in Book 1 of DD, this little comment about her from the New Yorker may be of interest.
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs...

Elizabeth wrote: "This could be a novel about class differences! "

Which if true may be accentuated by G's sudden drop from being financially quite comfortable to being in much more straitened circumstances. No more foreign gambling trips for her, at least unless she marries somebody who can afford them.

Don wrote: " Eliot's description of the way she seeks easy ways to make nice strikes me as the sort of penetrating character insight that she would not waste on a minor character."

That's an insightful observation of her character.

On the other hand, though, she can be quite unkind she wants to. I don't usually associate Eliot with the kind of sly humor that is Austen's specialty, but in Chapter 5, I noticed several instances of Gwendolen doing quite other than making nice which are fully worthy of Austen. For example:

"How very interesting!" said Gwendolen. "I like to differ from everybody. I think it is so stupid to agree. That is the worst of writing your opinions; and make people agree with you." This speech renewed a slight suspicion in Mrs. Arrowpoint, and again her glance became for a moment examining. But Gwendolen looked very innocent, and continued with a docile air:

and a bit later
"Yes, we should be glad of something popular now—another song from you would be a relaxation," said Mrs. Arrowpoint, who had also come near with polite intentions.

"That must be because you are in a puerile state of culture, and have no breadth of horizon. I have just learned that. I have been taught how bad my taste is, and am feeling growing pains. They are never pleasant," said Gwendolen, not taking any notice of Mrs. Arrowpoint, and looking up with a bright smile at young Clintock.

Mrs. Arrowpoint was not insensible to this rudeness,

So it seems that Gwendolen reserves her "making nice" for the young men, but is not averse to making cattily nasty to women!

I loved the passage at the end of Chapter 5 where young Clintock offers Gwendolen a copy of Jenning's poem and she replies, deliciously,

if you send it to me, will you promise not to catechise me upon it and ask me which part I like best? Because it is not so easy to know a poem without reading it as to know a sermon without listening."

Can anyone help with the last paragraph of Chapter 6, where Eliot is "explaining" Gwendolen's fit of terror. "these explanatory phrases required conciliation with much that seemed to be blank indifference or rare self-mastery." Does she mean that her fits of terror seem contrary to her usual temperament, with "rare" signifying extraordinary instead of its "usual" meaning? Even then, if so, indifferent is not a word I would have used for Gwendolen so far, no?

I am "much in the same predicament" with the next sentence: "Heat is a great agent and a useful word, but considered as a means of explaining the universe it requires an extensive knowledge of differences; and as a means of explaining character 'sensitiveness' is in much the same predicament." I'd be glad if someone could give me their interpretations of these sentences and anyways as a whole I thought the end of Chapter 6 was a very interesting investigation into Gwendolen's personality and worth discussing :)

OK - I finally finished Book I last night - loving the storyline so far!

Is she spoiled? I don't know if I would go that far, really. I know the book is titled that, but when I look at the specifics we are given, it seems to me that she does have quite lofty thoughts of herself compared to others, and she does converse in her sarcastic manner, and besides the horse, I don't see her actually getting everything that she wants (and therefore would be spoiled, in my mind).

Everyman wrote: The descriptions of Gwendolen seem quite different from the impression I got from the chapters back in England. I thought the same thing, it seemed like two different people were being presented and I wonder at what happens between the two time points to allow to reader to come to the same conclusion by the time we see Gwendolen at the roulette table again.

Everyman wrote: And then the return of the necklace. G automatically assumes it must have been DD. Is she logically justified in making this assumption, or is it a matter of wishful hoping? I guess I assumed Daniel Deronda returned the necklace to her also, but now you have given me some doubt. Of course Gwendolen was fixated upon DD and she thought he was fixated upon her, so she assumed the necklace was from him. But there could have been another person watching Gwendolen who the reader was not introduced to.

Everyman wrote: I loved the passage at the end of Chapter 5 where young Clintock offers Gwendolen a copy of Jenning's poem and she replies, deliciously,

if you send it to me, will you promise not to catechise me upon it and ask me which part I like best? Because it is not so easy to know a poem without reading it as to know a sermon without listening." I absolutely loved this part! :)

David wrote: "Can anyone help with the last paragraph of Chapter 6, where Eliot is "explaining" Gwendolen's fit of terror. "these explanatory phrases required conciliation with much that seemed to be blank indif..."

I am not quite sure, but Eliot uses "heat" as an example, and the technical definition of heat has to do with the difference in the movement of molecules of one substance compared to another (the greater the heat, the greater the difference in the movement of molecules between the two). Eliot states that everyone explained Gwendolen's fits as "sensitiveness", but then she says that these "explanatory phrases required conciliation with much that seem to be blank indifference or rare self-mastery." (here I take "rare" to mean "extraordinary"), so I take this to mean that since Gwendolen usually does very well at hiding her inner feelings, that having others explain her fits of terror as simply a sensitiveness on her part is quite a stretch. In other words, there is too large of a difference in her usual manner and ability to control her feelings and these fits of terror to be explained so simply. So, I gathered this meant that Gwendolen really did experience actual fits of terror.

Sorry,I don't know if I was able to explain this well enough in the way I am thinking of it. Or maybe I am misinterpreting it completely!

David wrote: "Can anyone help with the last paragraph of Chapter 6, where Eliot is "explaining" Gwendolen's fit of terror. "these explanatory phrases required conciliation with much that seemed to be blank indif..."

My take, for what it's worth: This is another instance of Eliot using a scientific metaphor. In explaining the universe, one can talk about heat, but heat itself is a pretty meaningless term; one must talk about relatives -- hotter or colder -- or differences in heat (Newton's second law of thermodynamics, for instance, states that heat cannot of itself pass from one body to a hotter body (the Flanders and Swann rendition of the law -- see below!)).

In the same way, explaining a person's character by calling it sensitive requires a great deal of other information -- it is not an explanation in itself, but only in terms of relative sensitiveness. We know that her "fits of timidity or terror" at the sudden opening of the panel were more than just ordinary sensitivity or startle reaction. But Rex excused them as that, and concluded that they had shown her "instinct with all feeling," and therefore much more liable to fall passionately in love with him. Which as we know is very much not the case.

Forgot to include this in previous post.

Flanders and Swann on Newton's Laws of Thermodynamics:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnbiVw...

David wrote: "Can anyone help with the last paragraph of Chapter 6, where Eliot is "explaining" Gwendolen's fit of terror. "these explanatory phrases required conciliation with much that seemed to be blank indif..."

David, I was intrigued by your question and upon looking more closely at that text, I came up with the following as my take on what Eliot was saying:

Gwendolyn is aware that she is frightened by spiritual matters, and prefers that no one else should know. She hasn't made a connection between this dread and the religious instruction she received, nor with any human relations. She also fears solitude because it makes her feel small in relation to existence, and incapable of asserting herself.


Her mamma and others attribute her fits of timidity or terror to "sensitiveness or the excitability of her nature", but these explanations conflict with her attitude of blank indifference or self-mastery. To make sense of these conflicts, sensitiveness, like heat, requires extensive knowledge of differences, but those who love her, such as Rex, are not inclined to acquire that knowledge and examine it as it applies to Gwendolen.

Most of the words I have used come directly from the text. I took each sentence and reduced it to fewer words.

Hope this has meaning for you. Thanks for the question, it's the kind of attentiveness to detail that makes the reading more enriching.

Ahh now I understand! Thank you for all your answers, they were very helpful. Is it just me or does Eliot use some of the most uncanny, but beautiful metaphors and comparisons?

David wrote: "Ahh now I understand! Thank you for all your answers, they were very helpful. Is it just me or does Eliot use some of the most uncanny, but beautiful metaphors and comparisons?"

Absolutely, David! For me, I was initially shocked at how difficult (and dense) the reading was, but once a few chapters in, I got used to it, realizing that the slower I read, the more majestic and beautiful some of these metaphors are.

One of my favorites so far:
"Then he sat still and looked out of the bow-window on the lawn and shrubs covered with hoar-frost, across which the sun was sending faint occasional gleams -- something like that sad smile on Rex's face, Anna thought."

David wrote: "Ahh now I understand! Thank you for all your answers, they were very helpful. Is it just me or does Eliot use some of the most uncanny, but beautiful metaphors and comparisons?"

It's not just you. Her writing is indeed beautiful. Eliot is one of the most intelligent of the Victorian authors, and writes for intelligent readers. This can make her a bit challenging to read at times, but well worth it.

I am not finished with reading book one yet..so many distractions of late. I do hope I get back on track but I have found Daniel Deronda interesting thus far.
I think that Gwendolyn is quite self confident..for the most part. How this started, I know not but it seems to be a reinforcing cycle (thus far)….her behavior breeds respect or some sort of awe in others which breeds further self confidence in Gwendolyn (or so it seems) and so on. As when the family first arrived at their new house at Offendene, everyone looked to G for her approval or lack thereof before knowing how to proceed themselves. And while Gwendolyn seemingly eclipsed the other young females at her first reception, as Mrs. Arrowpoint noted, "She is not really so handsome if you come to examine her features…It is a certain style she has, which produces a great effect at first..". But indeed, I do think Gwendolyn is clever and wants to be the master of her own destiny, best she can in that day and age and situation (i.e. difficult to do and thus requires cleverness indeed). As for Gwendolyn's assumption it was Deronda who returned her jewelry, she had thought of him when walking to sell it (feeling a bit conspicuous perhaps but undeterred) as she knew that his lodgings were located so that he could presumably peer out the window and see her heading to the establishment. Thus it was natural for her to assume he was the "culprit" along with her recollection of his attention as she gambled, resulting in her sudden apparent loss of winning focus. Well, I assume we will eventually find out who is this culprit and if her assumptions are correct!

Of course, I just read some above comments that suggest Gwendolyn is unsure of herself..inwardly…that could be….as the real world tends to give one challenges that knock one off balance a bit too oft ….but so far, my take is that her general notion/state is that she thinks well of herself (for the most part) and is ambitious. I guess I will find out if this holds true….

Sue wrote: "Of course, I just read some above comments that suggest Gwendolyn is unsure of herself..inwardly…that could be….as the real world tends to give one challenges that knock one off balance a bit too o..."

That's an interesting pair of posts. They show, I think, that Gwendolen is a complex character, not at all the simplistic young-Victorian-girl-waiting-to-get-married of many novels of the era.

We haven't discussed her thoughts on marriage yet, but I do want to get to them at some point. They are, I think, another indication of the complexity and, in a way, ambiguity of her character -- a magnificent job by Eliot.

Patrice wrote: "Reading a bit about Eliot's life choices I think you could say she was spoiled and even evil. She certainly behaved immorally. I'm willing to bet she had been called a harlot by some. ..."

Patrice -- who is the "she" in your sentences above? Gwendolen? Or Eliot?

I think Eliot's word, spoiled,' fits Gwendolyn to a T. 'Self-centered' works, too, at least for now.

Oh, dear. I am quite behind in my readings..so please excuse my tardy remarks.

At any rate… Gwendolyn is mentioned as having a trace of demon ancestry (in Ch. 7 when compared to Rex). Again..a reference to evil.

I also want to state that G. Eliot is at times quite amusing and makes me chuckle periodically..such as in chapter 6 re Warham's intense studies for India "which might disclose the welfare of our Indian Empire to be somehow connected with a quotable knowledge of Browne's Pastorals"! ha! I enjoy G.Eliot's use of language, humorous or not albeit oft very densely written. She does have a bit of fun with the English language at times: aristocratic seediness (ch. 7), Rachelesque heroines (ch. 6), Gw attititudinised and speechified (ch. 6), etc.. It is also fun to read of interests of that day and age: tableaux vivans, carte -de-visite, and spirits ..etc.. even later a reference to Darwin.

Alas..one last comment…a bit of foreshadowing I spy at the hunt…when the author states (ch. 7), "one is tempted to that futile sort of wishing-if only things could have been a little otherwise then, so to have been greatly otherwise after!-if only the two beautiful young creatures [Gw and Rex] could have pledged themselves to each other…" Hmm…what does this all portend….

Sue wrote: "I also want to state that G. Eliot is at times quite amusing and makes me chuckle periodically.."

I have noticed this more in this book than in other Eliot works.

I particularly loved the humor in Chapter 5. I annotated my margins with little smiley faces at numerous points. For example (these may not be quite so humorous out of context, but still I hope make the point)

"Who is that with Gascoigne?" said the archdeacon, neglecting a discussion of military manoeuvres on which, as a clergyman, he was naturally appealed to.

Music was soon begun. Miss Arrowpoint and Herr Klesmer played a four-handed piece on two pianos, which convinced the company in general that it was long,

After this every one became anxious to hear Gwendolen sing; especially Mr. Arrowpoint; as was natural in a host and a perfect gentleman, of whom no one had anything to say but that he married Miss Cuttler and imported the best cigars;

"I should be very much obliged to him for telling me the worst," said Gwendolen, recovering herself. "I dare say I have been extremely ill taught, in addition to having no talent—only liking for music." This was very well expressed considering that it had never entered her mind before.

"I wish you would sing to us again, Miss Harleth," said young Clintock, the archdeacon's classical son, who had been so fortunate as to take her to dinner, and came up to renew conversation as soon as Herr Klesmer's performance was ended, "That is the style of music for me. I never can make anything of this tip-top playing. It is like a jar of leeches, where you can never tell either beginnings or endings.

One more to add to the above:

"How very interesting!" said Gwendolen. "I like to differ from everybody. I think it is so stupid to agree. That is the worst of writing your opinions; and make people agree with you." This speech renewed a slight suspicion in Mrs. Arrowpoint, and again her glance became for a moment examining. But Gwendolen looked very innocent, and continued with a docile air:

On the more serious side, consider the comment by Gwendolen, hardly an intellectual giant:

"Ah, his [Tasso's] life is more interesting than his poetry, I have constructed the early part of his life as a sort of romance. When one thinks of his father Bernardo, and so on, there is much that must be true."

"Imagination is often truer than fact," said Gwendolen, decisively, though she could no more have explained these glib words than if they had been Coptic or Etruscan. "

Is there wisdom in these "glib words"? Isn't this really what we say about literature -- that in its imaginative foundation it can be truer than "mere" fact? What does it suggest for a novelist to put these words in the mouth of one of her primary characters -- and in the same moment to suggest that the character has no idea what they mean? Is Eliot playing with us, or is she saying something serious?

By the way, before reading DD, had anybody read, or even heard of, Torquato Tasso? The name was completely new to me, so I went to look him up.

From the sometimes reliable but very convenient Wikipedia, he was a 16th century Italian poet who "died a few days before he was due to be crowned as the king of poets by the Pope."

"Until the beginning of the 20th century, Tasso remained one of the most widely read poets in Europe."

And from poemhunter.com:
"Tasso's Jerusalem Delivered has since been lauded both as the embodiment of lyric sentiment and as the greatest poem of the Counter-Reformation."

For all this praise, he is completely unknown to me. How about to others?

Edit to Tasso post:

And is there a specific reason why Eliot chooses to bring him into this discussion? Is it just that he was, according to Wikipedia, still widely read in Eliot's day so Eliot is using Gwendolen's ignorance of him to say something about her limited education? Or is there something more here, something based on his actual work or views?

Sue wrote: "Oh, dear. I am quite behind in my readings..so please excuse my tardy remarks.

At any rate… Gwendolyn is mentioned as having a trace of demon ancestry (in Ch. 7 when compared to Rex). Again..a ..."

I was also wondering about this foreshadowing in reference to Rex and Gwendolen. And I sure felt bad for poor Rex and the entire incident at the hunt, Gwendolen was at the top of my dislike list for the way she treated him.

Linda wrote: "And I sure felt bad for poor Rex and the entire incident at the hunt, Gwendolen was at the top of my dislike list for the way she treated him. "

Yes -- but isn't there also something delicious about her -- not really evil, but so self-centered that it's almost like watching a train wreck in slow motion?

I think either Bette Davis or Katharine Hepburn (in their primes) would have been ideal to play her in the movies.

Everyman wrote: Yes -- but isn't there also something delicious about her -- not really evil, but so self-centered that it's almost like watching a train wreck in slow motion?

Oh definitely!! That's why I loved the first book so much.

Sometimes it is the little touches in Eliot that catch my attention. For example, when Anna has told Rex that Gwendolen will never care for him,

"He did think of her words as he rode along; they had the unwelcomeness which all unfavorable fortune-telling has, even when laughed at..."

How true! We may scoff at fortune telling or horoscopes or fortune cookies when they propose negative outcomes, but still a little bit of us worries, doesn't it? Eliot captures this perfectly.

Another example, when Rex and Gwendolen are talking:

"No, I shall not. My plan is to do what pleases me." (Here should any young lady incline to imitate Gwendolen, let her consider the set of her head and neck: if the angle there had been different, the chin protrusive, and the cervical vertebrae a trifle more curved in their position, ten to one Gwendolen's words would have had a jar in them for the sweet-natured Rex. But everything odd in her speech was humor and pretty banter, which he was only anxious to turn toward one point.)

The importance of the interpersonal, which is what we lose so much in the modern world of the Internet, email, Twitter, even Goodreads. I love that advice "should any young lady incline to imitate Gwendolen..." Sly, subtle, but also very true.

"Some readers of this history will doubtless regard it as incredible that people should construct matrimonial prospects on the mere report that a bachelor of good fortune and possibilities was coming within reach,"

Is this a sly (or not so sly?) dig at Austen, particularly Pride and Prejudice?

Everyman wrote: "Edit to Tasso post:

And is there a specific reason why Eliot chooses to bring him into this discussion? Is it just that he was, according to Wikipedia, still widely read in Eliot's day so Eliot i..."

In my kindle version of the book there are many instances of Eliot making reference to other works, indicating that Eliot was well educated and read a great deal. One example is when Gwendolen is described as wearing a green and blue gown drawing inference to a serpent, but when reading the explanation in the book really points to one of the nymphs of King Neptune.

My guess is that Eliot is using Tasso (of whom I've never heard) as a vehicle to show Gwendolen's willingness to attempt to be something that she is not -- being well informed about Tasso.

Elizabeth wrote: "My guess is that Eliot is using Tasso (of whom I've never heard) as a vehicle to show Gwendolen's willingness to attempt to be something that she is not -- being well informed about Tasso. "

I agree. She does like to think better of herself than she has a right to, doesn't she?

I didn't find her evil but I did wonder if Eliot was guiding me to think of her as evil. Eventually I decided the author was just showing me a picture of a certain kind of very bright person who gets along with nearly everyone and appears to live a charmed life. Such people, who have rarely had cause for soul searching or self doubt, naturally have some interesting blind spots, which, I think, is what Gwendolen's terror is all about.

Is she spoiled? I suppose she might be, but I don't think book 1 tells us enough about her for us to come to that conclusion yet. It all depends on how she confronts her personal demons. So far as we've seen in book 1 she doesn't seem to show a nasty streak.

Haven't we all met people like this? People who are generally brighter and more perceptive than people around them, they are not only bright but attractive looking and have excellent interpersonal skills. Though not arrogant, life is all just too easy for them. The world falls at their feet. I sometimes think of world leaders and elite politicians who have negotiated the democratic political system to get where they are, to be such people. Bill Clinton for example (he was a Rhodes scholar was he not?) Margaret Thatcher comes to mind. Gwendolen may not ever reach those heights of course, but she seems the same sort of person living with the same sort of acceptance and admiration from the people around her. She has been told for so long that she has a brilliant future ahead of her that she has just come to believe it. It has been drummed into her, and nothing, so far, has occurred that would contradict that. So she has blind spots she has never been forced to look at. I suspect that by the end of the novel she will have been given some opportunities for soul searching, and that she will learn more about this terror that sometimes gets hold of her.

I see no reason to dislike her or to envy her her charmed life. She is young, I trust Eliot will develop her character and bring her to a mature and sober understanding of her place in the world.

Looking forward to seeing how it all unfolds.

Everyman wrote: "Elizabeth wrote: "My guess is that Eliot is using Tasso (of whom I've never heard) as a vehicle to show Gwendolen's willingness to attempt to be something that she is not -- being well informed abo..."

Tasso was widely read in the nineteenth century. His Jerusalem Delivered was important to the writing of Spencer's The Faerie Queen and Milton's Paradise Lost. It was also the subject of paintings, operas, and plays; thus a person who hadn't read it would still be aware of it.

Eliot calls Gwendolen a witch several times. She has the gift of bewitching men, but is not aware what an extraordinary gift she has, and is careless with her power.

Roger wrote: "Eliot calls Gwendolen a witch several times. She has the gift of bewitching men, but is not aware what an extraordinary gift she has, and is careless with her power."

I wonder when the term "bewitching" turned from a serious perceived threat of great danger into a gentle compliment to a woman.

I find myself a bit alarmed at the prospect of spending 700 pages in the company of this tiresome woman.