Reading the Chunksters discussion

Ah ha! So now we are out of the flashback at Offendene and we are back where we left off in the beginning. Grandcourt pursues Gwen after she flees, thinking it is part of her impetuous game with him. Meanwhile, he learns of Deronda's earlier encounter with her. Grandcourt makes a comment that things will be better when Sir Hugo is gone, so there is a bit of mystery there. Meanwhile, Deronda obsesses about his mystery parents, wondering if Hugo is in fact his father and why he won't tell him anything. Hugo, however, marries and has three daughters in an attempt to have a son who will inherit his fortune, as if he does not all will go to Grandcourt.

Meanwhile, in Daniel's life we meet Hans Meyrick, Daniel's good friend. In aiding Hans to obtain a scholarship, Daniel forgoes the opportunity to obtain his own. He then looks to study abroad. Daniel is rowing one evening and spies a young woman - who he suspects is about ready to drown herself after she dips her cloak in the water. Daniel rescues her and takes her to the Meyrick's. He learns that her name is Mirah Lapidoth and that she is Jewish and is in search of her mother and brother. The Meyrick's welcome her with open arms and Daniel departs. He frets about her situation and what to do about her lost family, and contemplates Jewish stereotypes. Mirah tells her story to the Meyrick's, noting that she escaped from her controlling father who told her that her mother and brother were dead.

I LOVE how this story is unfolding, with so much mystery and many hidden twists and turns! I had a lot of questions in this section though, such as if Grandcourt needed a son so badly, why did he just not agree with popular opinion that Deronda was his son, particularly if he was not overly fond of Grandcourt? I also didn't understand how Daniel would automatically assume that Mirah planned to drown herself just because she put her cloak in the water. As for the Meyrick's - why would they just welcome a stranger to live with them with no notice?

Daniel seems a man of integrity, compassion, and kindness and it will be interesting to see how he fares with the many scheming individuals around him. I also wonder how Mirah will play into the story, as her appearance was rather abrupt and disconnected from the main storyline. I can imagine Daniel has much angst about how to handle Mirah's search for his mother in light of his own total lack of knowledge about his own parents.

Daniel is such an interesting character in comparison with many 'heroes' of Victorian literature. I like the sense of him searching for something more meaningful in his life than just wealth and a respectable career in law.

I agree that Mirah feels a bit clumsily introduced and even if we can accept the open-hearted hospitality of the Meyrick's, the long section where she recounts her past story isn't Eliot at her best.

Interesting reflections and connections, though: Mirah's professional singing and acting recall Gwen's amateur efforts of which she was proud; Mirah's search for her mother and brother are another version of Deronda's questions about his unknown parentage.

I felt the drowning scene was a bit heavy handed - Eliot clearly wasn't afraid of plots relying on unlikely coincidences. But this section starts to make it clear that the book is much more than the story of Gwen...

I enjoyed this section. This was the second time I encountered a book that mentions the Jewish men killing their families and then themselves to save them from further doom (although the further doom in DD was conversion to Christianity.) In the Weight of Ink (a truly well-written book by Rachel Kadish), the families killed themselves at Masada during a Roman siege; around 900 people perished. In the 1660s, that was part of the stereotype that the WASPish people in London would use to torment the Hebrew community. I mention it only that I cannot believe in the 1800s, the stereotype continues in literature. I had not ever heard of it till I read Kadish. It saddens me that Mirah knows that is why she is disgraced (because of her heritage), and thinks she will always have bigotry toward her. So sad and courageous of Elliot, I think, to include it in her writing. To me, that shows tolerance toward differences.

I also like how Eliot ties Daniel with Mirah with not knowing where and whom their mothers are. Did anyone else think of a connection between Mirah's wonderful singing to Gwen's not-so-wonderful singing?

I enjoyed this section more than previous sections, while acknowledging that it is a bit more conventional. I didn't notice the connection between Mirah's wonderful singing and Gwen's "not great" singing, but did notice the parallel between Mirah's singing and Daniel's singing. Also, Daniel seems to have a bit of a thing for helping women in distress, first Mirah and then (inexplicably to me, at least for now) Gwen.

Roman Clodia wrote: "Daniel is such an interesting character in comparison with many 'heroes' of Victorian literature. I like the sense of him searching for something more meaningful in his life than just wealth and a ..."

I agree he is emerging as an interesting character. This is one thing I love about Eliot's writing (and others realist writers) - romanticized characters make way for more honestly rendered ones.

I've enjoyed this section too. Agreed that the scene at the pond was a bit much (talk about jumping to conclusions - no pun intended). But otherwise this feels like it's really warming up now, with lots of bits of intrigue and interesting characters in the mix.

Tammy Dayton wrote: "I enjoyed this section. This was the second time I encountered a book that mentions the Jewish men killing their families and then themselves to save them from further doom (although the further do..."

Tammy I'm jewish and didn't know any of that - thanks so much for explaining the reference.

I was interested in the suicide by drowning scenario and looked into the incidence of it in Victorian times. I came across many references but it appears that although drowning (or poison) were more women's choice of suicide, the incidence was a lot lower than art and literature at the time portrayed. Maybe Eliot was just following the preconceived notion of it by having one of her characters engaged in such. Here is an article I found which is quite long but does highlight the fact that fact was not stranger than fiction in this case.

http://www.victorianweb.org/books/sui...

However, on the Jewish angle of her book, Eliot was definitely NOT following convention and took quite a risk in writing this book. Here is a book I think would be great to read after DD:

Jewish Odyssey of George Eliot by Gertrude Himmelfarb

Tracey wrote: "I was interested in the suicide by drowning scenario and looked into the incidence of it in Victorian times. I came across many references but it appears that although drowning (or poison) were mor..."

I am definitely putting that on my tbr list.

What happened to Dianne and our schedule? Did I miss something?

I'm not sure where she went. I'll see if it will let me create a thread for this week's reading.

sorry again guys! Flu infiltrated our house and we were pretty decimated. I am back now! :)

These preliminary chapters for this section slightly turned my stomach, only because I find Grandcourt to be uber skeevey wanting Gwendolyn all the more now that she turned off by him; then, there’s Deronda who may be on his own mission of saving Gwendolyn; and finally, Lush, who outs Grandcourt’s lover to Gwendolyn. None of these men are genuinely thinking of Gwendolyn: Grandcourt, it appears has a strange sexual propensity; Deraonda has a savior complex; and while I had originally thought Lush was doing something good for Lydia and Gwendolyn, he too was only thinking of himself. Were all these men really that selfish…was anybody genuinely thinking of Gwendolyn’s best interests? I will say, however, I may have read Deronda’s part in this more as a modern day reader, not seeing stars in my eyes at the thought of him wanting to save Gwendolyn. I did see the potential of it being romantic as a reader of the Victorian age, but it didn’t last very long. :P

In the remaining chapters, not realizing I needed a break from Gwendolyn, it was a breath of fresh air reading more about Deronda and his background. He’s a solid guy: handsome, nurturing, intelligent and worldly, but with questionable parentage (?). I sense that although his upbringing was privileged and he was showered with love and care, that he may have still felt like an outsider amongst his family. What I liked about Deronda, or at least since chapter 15, was that he was nurturing. He was able to mother and tend to his friend Meryck when sick, and he cared for the young girl by the river, all in spite of being motherless. I was piqued by Eliot writing for him in this manner, while she gave the opposite treatment to Gwendolyn’s character; who also experienced the absence of a parent, her father, and who later grew to hate men and people.

Mirah’s addition supplements the beginnings of Deronda’s already rich story. Here, again, I took more note of Eliot’s approach to writing about Mirah and Lapidoth. They are Jewish, he is an unsavory character, she’s a sympathetic character victim to her father’s whims; but, Eliot doesn’t play into amplifying their heritage against them. Instead, Lapidoth is more than cruel because it appears he’s willing to sell his daughter to a man who wants her to be nothing but his mistress; he has a gambling addiction he cannot shake and to the detriment of his family. Lapidoth could be every man and I was pleasantly surprised by Eliot who chose to paint him evil with more care than other authors of her time.

There definitely seems to be a failing of fathers in Eliot’s writing here.