The Readers Review: Literature from 1714 to 1910 discussion

This section, apart from chapter 39, was mainly about Deronda's increasing relationship with Mordecai, and some background about Mordecai himself-his learning, his philosophy/theology, and his overwhelming desire to pass his knowledge and ideas on to a younger protégé, initially hoping young Jacob would be that scholar, and now fixing on Deronda for that role, and assuming that on self-examination Deronda would find that he does in fact have Jewish roots. There is also a certain amount of discussion around the issue of Zionism-the creation of a Jewish homeland in the "Israel" that hasn't existed for centuries. Between the choosing of this book and today there have of course been the ongoing tragic events in the Middle East, and I would ask readers to be respectful of the diverse opinions that our community may hold, and ask that we avoid discussion of the current situation.

In chapter 39 Klesmer comes to visit Mirah and the Meyricks, is pleased wth Mirah as a musician and as a suitable singer for his drawing room and for instructing young ladies, and also recognizes some musicality in Mab. I am also looking forward to meeting "Mrs Klesmer" in her new role in life and am glad that the match has gone forward. We also get a somewhat modified view of Klesmer himself-While his grandiose air was making Mab feel herself a ridiculous toy to match the cottage piano, he was taking in the details around him with a keen and thoroughly kind sensibility..

I will confess that I struggled with this section-I was hoping for more movement in the plot and less café philosophizing, although we do get to see Daniel changing his opinion about the suitability of the Cohen's as Mirah's possible family.

Were there sections or passages that particularly resonated with you?

What did you think of Klesmer's visit and of Mirah's possible future as a musician?

How do you think Eliot's reading public would have responded to her descriptions of the Jewish community in London?

Do you feel this might give Daniel the push he needs to enquire about his own origins?

Please share your thoughts about this section and the novel so far.

Please note that I've added an extra chapter (a very short one) to the week of March 3-9 so that we line up with the book divisions.

I love your term “cafe philosophizing,” Frances! It was interesting as a historical relic to see that kind of gathering, and of course Eliot is always alert to the small negotiations that constantly go on in such an encounter. But to a modern reader it went on awfully long.

Another thing that’s uncomfortable for today’s readerin this section is all the emphasis on “blood” and racial or ethnic traits. What a barrier these obsessions, along with obsessions about class, were to mutual understanding in British society of the day! Deronda makes such extraordinary efforts to overcome what I suspect many of us today wouldn’t even perceive. And I suspect that Eliot’s contemporaries would have been made uncomfortable by the mere effort to overcome such unquestioned “truths.”

I did wonder if parts of Mordecai’s exhortations were not directed toward Disraeli, though Eliot tried to cover her tracks by referring to “monarchs of commerce, the learned in all knowledge, the skilful in all arts, the speakers” as well as “the political counsellors.” Disraeli at least nominally converted to Christianity, but I wonder whether that was viewed as an expedient to enable his public life, just as it was at the end of the eighteenth century when the Duke of Norfolk abjured Catholicism in order to play a role in government.

In the meeting on the bridge (very symbolic), I was interested to see Eliot stretching her vocabulary to try to convey spiritual experiences—not her usual beat.

"Café philosophizing" is a great term! :)

This section felt like reading an entirely different book, and I found it overly long and tiring. However, the essence of it, meaning how Jews were seen at the time of writing and some of their history, I found rather interesting and enlightening. I had read Dickens' 'Oliver Twist' in December and was appalled by the derogatory wording concerning the Jewish character of Fagin there, and that Dickens himself didn't even see anything wrong with such wording. So it is refreshing to see, from the same period, a different view and an effort to understand the culture.

Still, I hope for more movement of the plot in the next section. Can't believe I am writing this, but I hope to hear about Gwendolen again soon...

Chapter 39 - At the beginning at the Meyricks' home, Mrs. Meyrick and two of the girls are working on a large embroidery piece, Kate is drawing, and Mirah is reading aloud to them. These scenes always remind me of Little Women: Marmee, with Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy in their cozy living room.

The first page of this section is a discussion of how picturing something in the future affects us - I think, I couldn't quite follow it all and didn't know why I should. I tried to imagine a modern audience reading a book written like that - no way! Though it is interesting to see how pre-Freudians like Eliot and Dickens understand psychology.

Although I can’t say that I enjoyed the overlong explanation regarding Mordecai and why Daniel should become his follower/successor, I was taken with the bravery of the author in even attempting such writing. Having read many Victorian novels, in my experience the vast majority of authors give their characters of Jewish origin such stereotypical traits that I can understand how people of that faith would be offended.

Already George Eliot has differentiated the characters of the Cohen family, Mordecai and the bookshop owner, each having their own characteristics according to their experiences. That is an unusual but welcome change from many of her contemporaries.

I think that George Eliot tried a little too hard in cementing the readers’ interest in the relationship between Mordecai and Daniel. Readers of any era would have struggled a little in maintaining the direction of their thinking regarding plot and character development when presented with such a heavily emphasised section but obviously the author thought it necessary.

Like Abigail I was taken with the imagery of Daniel approaching Blackfriars Bridge in the wherry, (the bridge was rebuilt only a few years before the novel was published.)

’ When the wherry was approaching Blackfriars Bridge, where Deronda meant to land, it was half-past four, and the gray day was dying gloriously, its western clouds all broken into narrowing purple strata before a wide-spreading saffron clearness, which in the sky had a monumental calm, but on the river, with its changing objects, was reflected as a luminous movement, the alternate flash of ripples or currents, the sudden glow of the brown sail, the passage of laden barges from blackness into color, making an active response to that brooding glory.

The river seems to be a recurring theme, thinking back to Daniel’s rescue of Mirah. In fact this quote near the end of this section brought things together for me. In trying to make sense of Mordecai’s revelations, Daniel takes the logical route.

’ To me the way seems made up of plainly discernible links. If I had not found Mirah, it is probable that I should not have begun to be specially interested in the Jews, and certainly I should not have gone on that loitering search after an Ezra Cohen which made me pause at Ram's book-shop and ask the price of Maimon.

I thought about Daniel ‘taking an oar’ in the wherry to row up to Blackfriars Bridge from Chelsea where he encountered Mordecai on the bridge.

This Map of Dickens’ London provides an indication of his route, what he would have passed and the distance he rowed.




(For Dickens fans, here are more interactive maps including one similar to the map above.

https://www.charlesdickenspage.com/ch... )

’ In ten minutes the two men (Mordecai and Deronda), with as intense a consciousness as if they had been two undeclared lovers, felt themselves alone in the small gas-lit book-shop and turned face to face, each baring his head from an instinctive feeling that they wished to see each other fully. Mordecai came forward to lean his back against the little counter, while Deronda stood against the opposite wall hardly more than four feet off. I wish I could perpetuate those two faces, as Titian’s “Tribute Money” has perpetuated two types presenting another sort of contrast.



https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tri...

My favourite chapter in this section was Klesmer’s visit to the Meyricks’ ‘narrow’ house in Chelsea. In fact, of all the fine households visited in this novel, I have enjoyed those scenes in this humble but cultured abode the most. No wonder Mirah feels safe and secure there when you compare this poor but well meaning family to all the others we have met.

I could imagine that length of embroidery stretching from one end of the house to the other and the industriousness taking place around it. Kate’s illustration of Mirah whilst she was reading to the working women completed a scene which contrasted sharply with the relative idleness and loafing taking place in the other houses we have visited.

The author must have wanted the reader to compare Klesmer’s visit to listen to Mirah’s singing with his earlier visit to Gwendolen. The differences in how the two women reacted to his visits were stark. Mirah, younger but more worldly wise, confidently played to her strengths. Her sincerity and deference to Klesmer’s expertise were exactly the opposite to Gwendolen’s attempts to impress.

I actually prefer the scenes in this house when the men are not there. The Meyricks treat Daniel too much like a god, partly because of his social class but mainly because of his friendship with Hans and his benevolence towards them. Hans’ arrival at the house turned the focus on him, probably the least interesting of the Meyrick family. My only sour taste during this chapter was that Mirah was persuaded by Hans and his mother, against her wishes, to buy a new dress for her singing engagement.

Here are some links to the references.

’ She was giving forth with charming distinctness the delightful Essay of Elia, "The Praise of Chimney-Sweeps," and all were smiling over the "innocent blackness," when the imposing knock and ring called their thoughts to loftier spheres, and they looked up in wonderment.’

https://gyankundli.com/in-praise-of-c...

’ The song she had chosen was a fine setting of some words selected from Leopardi's grand Ode to Italy:’— (English Translation)

https://leopardi.letteraturaoperaomni...

’ Mirah, simply bent on doing what Klesmer desired, and imagining that he would now like to hear her sing some German, went through Prince Radzivill's music to Gretchen's songs in the "Faust," one after the other without any interrogatory pause.’

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antoni_...

I couldn’t find any music by Prince Radziwill, but here is one of Gretchen’s songs by Schubert.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MY0ee...

Yes, Daniel is a prince to the Meyrick girls and Klesmer now a wizard. The positive description of that home compared to the mansions of Gwendolen and Grandcourt reminds me of Dickens, who romanticizes the homes of the Cratchitts and other working people. Also the Cohens' home is welcoming and congenial.

I considered this section to be a boring stretch. I'm finding that Eliot's manner of writing the plotline of Daniel's Jewish investigation makes it as interesting as the Levin plotline in Anna Karenina - both seem to arrive as dramatic lulls just as other plotlines are getting interesting.
Luckily, my time spent on this section was made suddenly worthwhile by the introduction of a new term to my conversational repertoire, "cafe philosophizing." Count me as another fan. Thanks, Frances.

Like Trev, I was impressed at Eliot's forging into these areas and themes, although I found the reading experience to be mixed.

Klesmer's visit to the Meyrick's was likewise a highlight for me. This is the only time I have been able to stomach Mirah for more than two minutes, because she ceased to be cipher of perfection and suddenly became a professional with a clear skill set that she was aware of and new how to use. There is indeed contrast with Gwendolen, although I can't blame Gwendolen for having less knowledge or skill or awareness. The discussion of Mirah's stage name and general identity afterwards was also interesting, and let us see her as someone still very foreign among the assumptions and culture of her hosts.

The presentation of Daniel and Mordecai's relationship is complex and the fact that this book almost 160 years old only adds to the complexity. I can't share the author's positive view of Mordecai, he seems borderline abusive in his determination to find an heir of some kind. Yet there is an electric intensity in the way some of the scenes are written.

I quite enjoyed the meeting of a café philosophizers, though I zoned out a bit during some of the discussions. I know people who are in similar sorts of clubs, and so it was funny to find them here, circumstances hardly changed, a century and a half ago.

At the same time, I admit I felt weighed down by a sadness, reading about these Jewish men discussing nationalism and identity in the context of knowing what the 20th century is bringing them, and then the horrifying violence in the Middle East now.

Speaking of Mordecai and his obsession with the immortality of his ideas, it’s my sense that ambition was widely viewed as an unalloyed virtue—and still is with some people, of course, but the view of ambition as a laudable trait was less questioned then. One of the ways Grandcourt is framed as a villain is his lack of ambition. All of which makes Deronda’s mixed feelings about it more striking, and it reminds me of one of our recent reads, Frankenstein: The 1818 Text, in which Mary Shelley explicitly challenges the value of ambition as a social trait. It’s perhaps natural that women would be likely to regard ambition with a skeptical eye, more interesting that Deronda would be troubled by the idea of it.

That's a fascinating comment, Abigail. It gives me a great deal to think about.

Brian E wrote: "I considered this section to be a boring stretch. I'm finding that Eliot's manner of writing the plotline of Daniel's Jewish investigation makes it as interesting as the Levin plotline in Anna Kare..."

Interesting; Levin's story was the best part of Anna Karenina for me! Or maybe I just enjoyed the descriptions of his muscles (the contrast of philosophical introvert plus physically strong man was intriguing; he reminded me a bit of my husband at the time I read the book, but he is getting older now). But if I remember correctly, I agree that Daniel's investigation dragged a bit in the book.

(I'm lurking on all these discussions because I read Daniel Deronda so long ago that I don't have anything to add that wasn't already said and have forgotten a lot of details.)

Abigail wrote: "Speaking of Mordecai and his obsession with the immortality of his ideas, it’s my sense that ambition was widely viewed as an unalloyed virtue—and still is with some people, of course, but the view..."

Interesting point Abigail, I think ambition is still seen as an unalloyed virtue (unless it moves into illegality or oppressing others to get ahead) and I've always been somewhat surprised by the opposite in Victorian times-that being seen to "work" was somehow un-aristocratic/un-gentlemanlike (other than managing your estate) and that people who earned their money were objects of scorn. We also see that in some university settings where working too hard was frowned upon.

Lori wrote: "Levin's story was the best part of Anna Karenina for me!."

I know that many enjoy Anna Karenina' s "Levin" so I really brought in the extraneous reference to his boringness anticipating it might stir the part a bit. So, thanks.
Nothing to add. Some like you enjoy the Levin sections resulting in a 5 star rating like yours. Some like me are bored resulting in a 2 star rating like mine.


Lori wrote: "(I'm lurking on all these discussions because I read Daniel Deronda so long ago that I don't have anything to add that wasn't already said and have forgotten a lot of details.)"

Anyone ever tell you that you're a pretty good lurker?

The “cafe philosophizing” was difficult for me to follow, but I appreciate Eliot for bringing in the subject of Zionism and her attempt to make her Jewish characters more realistic than was usual in 19th century writing. As much as I revere Mr. Dickens, his anti-Semitic portrayals are revolting. I also like the fact that Eliot continues to expose the prejudices of her non-Jewish characters, including Daniel. Very brave move for the times. One thing I had missed in the earlier chapters about Mordecai is that he is not an old man, just a very ill one. I wonder if his vision of Daniel’s role in his life will be fulfilled or frustrated.

Trev wrote: "I couldn’t find any music by Prince Radziwill,...."

here's his opera Faust:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLnEj...

wikipedia says that Goethe himself helped in the writing.

sabagrey wrote: "Trev wrote: "I couldn’t find any music by Prince Radziwill,...."

here's his opera Faust:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLnEj...

wikipedia says that Goethe himself helped in the writing."

Thanks very much sabagrey. I am not the biggest fan of Opera but I do admire the talents of the best singers both male and female. I am sure there will be plenty to relish in this performance.

So we get 3 chapters about Mordecai and Daniel. I was really looking forward to getting an exposé of Mordecai's ideas, or theory, or plans, or whatever ... BUT: first came 1 chapter about the fact THAT Mordecai had something to say, and then another chapter about the fact THAT he had something to say, that makes 2 chapters in which not one word was said about WHAT he had to say. Highly frustrating.

At last, we get some contents from Mordecai, framed by the meeting of the Kaffeehausphilosophen, After the long wait, the actual revelation was underwhelming. Given that it is supposed to be Mordecai's life's work, he has not that much to say. For example, he has no good answer to the pertinent - prophetic- question by Gideon about how to deal with inherited hatred:

Our people have inherited a good deal of hatred. There’s a pretty lot of curses still flying about, and stiff settled rancor inherited from the times of persecution.

Any blurb about Daniel Deronda mentions Eliot's concern with Judaism and Zionism as an essential motive of the novel. But if they were a real concern, they should get more space and attention. As they do not - what is the novel about?

I’m late to the party reading this book but the above comments were useful because there was one particular chapter (chapter 38 I think) where to my mind absolutely nothing happened. For me, it was like reading an essay except that I didn’t really have a clue what the author was banging on about. That’s a great pity because normally I love essays!

Conversely, I actually enjoyed the café philosophising, the conversation suggested that not all Jews are Zionists, at least not in that room. I would love to be a member of a club like that where you can indulge in polite conversation, without being forced to listen to piped music and watch people playing with their smart phones!

I’ve just read ch. 43 and my interest and enthusiasm for the book has been restored.

Piped music is the worst! People are playing with their phones bc they can't hear each other