The Readers Review: Literature from 1714 to 1910 discussion

Well, after last week's section of not much action, this one has the plot moving along briskly.

First, I was shocked to find out it was Mordecai who was Mirah's brother-I had been picturing him as an elderly man all this time. Perhaps he is being treated as such as he is dying of consumption/TB, but still I was very surprised.

Mirah appears to be having some success with her singing, and while we don't know if she is getting students, she is certainly becoming popular as an entertainer at society parties. Deronda is making arrangements for her to be able to live with her brother, presumably at his expense.

Gwendolen and Grandcourt have moved to London, and we see how unhappy Gwendolen has been in her marriage. Grandcourt is completely domineering, and Gwendolen has yielded to his control, although she continues to present a happy and satisfied facade in public and to her family. It is only with Deronda that she allows her unhappiness to show. There has also been no pregnancy (that we know of) and Grandcourt has written a will which, after his death, will further humiliate Gwendolen if she has not produced a male heir. Lush and Lydia have both made their appearances again, and clearly Grandcourt is not planning to keep his promise to Gwendolen concerning Lush, even going so far as to have him deliver the humiliating details of his will.

Gwendolen makes one last act of defiance in asking Deronda to visit her when Grandcourt will be out, and is caught out in this deception, resulting in their planned removal from London to go sailing.

Were there parts of this section that particularly struck you as significant or moving?

Were you surprised with Deronda arranging accommodation for Mirah with Mordecai? That he appears to be paying for so much of this?

Gwendolen is trapped in a loveless and cruel marriage-why do you think Grandcourt is taking her away? Is he jealous of Deronda, or simply hoping to make her unhappy by demonstrating his dominance once again?

Did you peek at the next chapter to read the letter?

Please share your thoughts on this section.

I also thought of Mordecai as old, and he could be quite a bit older than Mirah because there were 4 babies who died in between, but mainly it's his illness that makes him seem old. We have no reason why he changed his name other than to further the plot. It's rather cruel to have Mirah find her brother only to discover that he's dying.

I think Grandcourt is jealous of Deronda, not out of fear of an affair, but because Gwendolen respects Deronda while clearly despising her husband. She has decided to not let Grandcourt see her emotions, and of course she keeps up a good front for her family. Her current situation has at least gotten her to appreciate her family and old home.

I looked up Harriet Byron and Miss Wardour, referenced in Chapter XLIV by Gwendolyn's sister Isobel, as Gwendolyn rides up for a visit.

It was a delightful surprise one day when Mr. and Mrs. Gascoigne were at Offendene to see Gwendolen ride up without her husband—with the groom only. All, including the four girls and Miss Merry, seated in the dining room at lunch, could see the welcome approach; and even the elder ones were not without something of Isabel’s romantic sense that the beautiful sister on the splendid chestnut, which held its head as if proud to bear her, was a sort of Harriet Byron or Miss Wardour reappearing out of her “happiness ever after.”

Harriet Byron - kidnapped and later rescued.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_His...

The History of Sir Charles Grandison Bar - Samuel Richardson
The History of Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4

Miss Wardour - looks like she was in prison; shown in several paintings (and maybe early photograph of a play/staging) as behind bars.
The Antiquary - Sir Walter Scott

Still reading the week's section but some random thoughts, since we are here for discussion 🤓

* I have been imagining Mirah as a young woman 20-ish years old, and Mordecai as an old man 80-ish years old. So Daniel Deronda thinking " I have found Mirah's brother!" is not working for me yet. Well I probably missed something there; otherwise DD has found her grandfather or great-uncle, not brother!

* I can't help but wonder sometimes while reading how this book will end... my mind comes up with a few possibilities but I certainly do not know what we are headed toward, good or bad.

* The Grandcourt-Gwendolyn abuse (hopeful emotional and not physical on top of it) parts made me think of The Portrait of a Lady . Published less than ten years later? I do prefer Henry James' prose to this.

* Given that we are still reading these books a century and a half later, imagine what it must have been like to read them when they were new. Mind-blowing?

More random though from me, without having even finished the week's reading, or read the thread intro above in case there are "spoilers" (of 150 years)...

at Chapter XLVI / Chapter 46
* The references to Covenanters and Habbakuk Mucklewraith seem to come from this book by Sir Walter Scott, Old Mortality .

http://fiddlrts.blogspot.com/2019/10/...


* I really wish Daniel would speak to Mordecai and Mirah; and introduce them; and have them confirm kinship (ahem, five minutes ago he thought Mirah was Mrs. Cohen's daughter); and have them agree to live together -- before renting a place for them. Is that just my pesky modern sensibilities interfering with the kind compassionate charity of Victorian times?

Maybe Mordecai would prefer to stay with his friends the Cohens, the boy he's teaching and his friends, and visit with this supposed sister a few times??
I know, I know, it's 1860-something and DD's a wealthy Brit.

There is a lot of condescension in Daniel's idea of setting up an apartment and getting clothes for Mordecai. Then Mirah deliberately dresses down so as not to intimidate her brother.

Someone with more patience than me should go back and see where we got the idea that Mordecai was so much older. He could have been 15 years older and we know he's sick, but most of us pictured him as elderly. Maybe young Deronda sees middle aged people as old?

Regarding Mordecai/Ezra's age, I recall two things: (1) Mirah's memory of her brother is of a young adult coming to visit the house, so he's probably in his thirties (in chapter 32 she says, “he was rarely at home, He was already grown up” when she was six or younger; and (2) in chapter 40, the one with the scene on the bridge, we first get told that Mordecai is younger than he seems. I dug up the quote: "...the face of a man little above thirty, but with that age upon it which belongs to time lengthened by suffering." It struck me as I was reading because I too had imagined Mordecai an old man. His being “little above thirty” makes him only a few years older than Deronda, who must be about twenty-five.

So I went hunting for the first scene with Mordecai, and found it in chapter 33: “A man in threadbare clothing, whose age was difficult to guess—from the dead yellowish flatness of the flesh, something like an old ivory carving. . . . The features were clear-cut, not large; the brow not high, but broad, and fully defined by the crisp black hair.” So not old enough to be graying.

We certainly find the title of this part of the book, “Revelations,” justified at last! I was all agog reading these chapters. The Mordecai/Ezra thing is frustrating because unexplained, but it could be something as simple as that it would be awkward to have two Ezra Cohens living under the same roof so this Ezra used his middle name. But there may be a more elaborate backstory yet to be revealed.

Many artworks are referred to in the book, so I was struck by the description of the scene when Deronda reveals Mirah’s existence to the Cohens. It reads like the description of an Old Master painting, a Rembrandt perhaps: “When all were seated on the hearth the scene was worth peeping in upon: on one side, Baby under her scarlet quilt in the corner being rocked by the young mother, and Adelaide Rebekah seated on the grandmother's knee; on the other, Jacob between his father's legs; while the two markedly different figures of Deronda and Mordecai were in the middle—Mordecai a little backward in the shade, anxious to conceal his agitated susceptibility to what was going on around him. The chief light came from the fire, which brought out the rich color on a depth of shadow, and seemed to turn into speech the dark gems of eyes that looked at each other kindly.”

Gwendolen becomes a more and more interesting subject. Her performance as Mrs. Grandcourt strays further and further from the natural, being described early in this section as a “presentation,” and often depicted in the terminology of playacting. Most of the world seems deceived, though her mother and sisters are a bit perturbed without quite knowing why; only Grandcourt and Deronda see it as a role she’s playing, and neither fully guesses the underlying reasons or what lies in her heart.

That's not entirely surprising because Gwendolen herself doesn’t fully know her own heart. I was struck by the intensity of her jealous reaction when Grandcourt claims that Mirah must be Deronda's mistress: she can’t contain herself either emotionally or physically, pacing about the room before rushing off to see Mirah on a pretext. Gwendolen tells herself that she is upset because the idea of him having a mistress knocks him off his pedestal, but I was reminded of the strong physicality of her reaction to him when they first met. She is clearly attracted to him not simply because she uses him as her conscience.

Meanwhile, we have a second mention of Mephistopheles in the book, as Eliot reveals the full scale of her disdain for Grandcourt: “Grandcourt’s view of things was considerably fenced in by his general sense, that what suited him, others must put up with. There is no escaping the fact that want of sympathy condemns us to a corresponding stupidity. Mephistopheles thrown upon real life, and obliged to manage his own plots, would inevitably make blunders.” I notice that Eliot, whose normal style is so periphrastic and elegant, descends briefly into slang when she wants to slap the reader with a strong emotion: that “put up with” at the end of the first sentence adds a lot of force to her reflections about Grandcourt. The next two sentences use equally forceful terms as their last words—“stupidity” and “blunders.”

I am full of dread about the proposed yachting trip.

Like several others I was also very surprised that Mordecai is Mirah's brother because I thought he was too old. Modern sensibility me was a little irritated by Deronda making so many assumptions about what Mirah would want to do about the discovery without ever consulting her, even though he was right. My irritation was already in place because of how often Deronda expressed his relief that her brother wasn't "the other Ezra."

I found a small but heartening bit of what I hope is hope for Gwendolen in Chapter 48. Just before the Mephistopheles quote Abigail cited we learn that Grandcourt only understands half of Gwendolen's "dread." He knows she has personal pride but he believes what she feels about Lydia Glasher is only "tongue-tied jealousy." He doesn't know about her feelings of remorse for her broken promise.

The fact that Gwendolen has grown to a place where she can feel remorse is of course a step of growth for her. What I hope is that the fact that Grandcourt doesn't know this about her will in some way, direct or not, help her escape or resolve her situation. I might be reading too much into it, but I feel, or maybe I just hope, that it's a little bit of power she has over him, even though she doesn't know it.

Also in the reading we see her starting to succeed at holding onto her own views without being poisoned by things Grandcourt says about Deronda, among others.

That said, I also am full of dread about the yachting trip.

Jaylia3 wrote: "Like several others I was also very surprised that Mordecai is Mirah's brother because I thought he was too old. Modern sensibility me was a little irritated by Deronda making so many assumptions about what Mirah would want to do about the discovery without ever consulting her, even though he was right."

Those are the exact 2 feelings I had while reading this section.
As Abigail pointed out, Eliot may have described Mordecai's age to be purposely ambiguous, but then the context where Mordecai seemed to be looking for someone to hand down his knowledge all indicated someone either as old as Bonnie thought or, at youngest, a prematurely worn down aging 50ish person. This age discrepancy is just another factor adding to the non-reality fairy tale quality of the Mirah storyline that I feel. I think the modern-day term for Mirah is “Manic Pixie Dream Girl."

Daniel is a good person and I identify with his character, but he takes some frustrating actions, as Bonnie and Jaylia point out, such as setting up house first and then telling Mirah later. I realize it is just an example tof the typical 19th century controlling male that Grandcourt is an amped-up version of, but it had me questioning Daniel's abilities and qualities a bit.

However, I find Gwendolyn an increasingly fascinating character and her storyline intriguing. I like Daniel's story when it intertwines with Gwendolyn's.

Thanks Abigail for going back and figuring out why so many of us pictured Esra/Mordecai as an elderly man, but I guess the black hair confirms his relative youth.

Brian I agree that Daniel appears to take too much upon himself in terms of directing the action-to arrange lodgings for Mirah and Mordecai without consultation seems quite arrogant/high handed.

I am also finding the Gwendolen storyline increasingly interesting, and as Abigail and Jaylia say the yachting trip sounds ominous. I am also entirely unsure how this will all pan out-one usually has a "wish" or even suppositions that this pair will end up together or there will be a tragic separation for those two, and I just have no sense of where everything is going.

I hope Gwendolen and Grandcourt will struggle on the boat and he will fall overboard! But I doubt it, that sounds too melodramatic for that storyline. Besides, then his money would go to his son and it's not clear if the allowance would be enough to support Gwendolen's mother and sisters,

And considering Grandcourt's spending habits, it's not at all clear there will be money anyway when he dies.

Frances wrote: "Thanks Abigail for going back and figuring out why so many of us pictured Esra/Mordecai as an elderly man, but I guess the black hair confirms his relative youth."

I agree Frances.
Abigail, I've done that back searching before and it takes time. I did question Eliot's storytelling abilities as she did make Mordecai's actions seem like he was an older sage type.

So while your back search makes me feel better about Eliot's skills as a storyteller, it kind of makes me feel worse about my own skills as a reader.
So, thanks, I guess? Maybe?

Well, Brian, we all thought he was older, so you're in good company, at least!

Shall we rename ourselves the not-so-perceptive-reader's review? :)

😂😂😂

I noticed the "man about thirty" mention of Mordecai's age shortly before it's revealed he's Mirah's brother. Was this serialized? If so, perhaps Eliot decided somewhat spontaneously and had to do a bit of quick pen-work!

This was a great section. My heart was absolutely in my mouth when Grandcourt walked in on Gwendolen and Deronda. And to hint that Daniel is distracted/then follow up with (rather than lead with) the scene between Daniel and Sir Hugo was brilliant.

Elsewhere, I find there's a very strange rhythm to this novel. It is quite realistic of life in a way, but quite unusual in fiction, the kinds of ebbs and flows, that when a reader might expect Daniel to be interested in Mirah, he's drawn to Gwendolen, and as Gwendolen becomes more sympathetic and apparently worthy of his love, he no longer thinks of her and becomes preoccupied with, of all things, learning Hebrew!

And I am still in two minds as to whether Mordecai is a well-drawn character or not. Not whether I like him -- I don't like him at all, but whether he's believable. I go back and forth.

Another great scene was Hans learning the brother has been found: "Oh confound it!" provoking his sisters to turn on him. Kate says "I do think men are the most contemptible animals in all creation," and Amy adds "I should like to know what is the good of having gone to the university and knowing everything, if you are so childish, Hans."

On Grandcourt's jealousy: remember he has mostly been with a woman who left her husband for him. He may have some fear of being now cuckholded in his turn.

Robin P wrote: "... Gwendolen and Grandcourt will struggle on the boat and he will fall overboard!"

I normally hate getting spoilers but I really hope that I just got one in the above wishful prediction.

Brian E wrote: "Robin P wrote: "... Gwendolen and Grandcourt will struggle on the boat and he will fall overboard!"

I normally hate getting spoilers but I really hope that I just got one in the above wishful pred..."

I thought I had read this before but apparently not, so I have no idea what will happen.

The debate about Mordecai’s age has to be taken in the context of the time the book was written. In 1865 the average lifetime expectancy in the UK was just under 42 years of age. For working class and the poorest communities that reduces at least another five to ten years. Due to their hard lives, most men and women of the poorer classes would have looked rough and well past their prime over the age of thirty.

https://www.statista.com/statistics/1...

I think Eliot’s description of Mordecai fits well with a Victorian man in his thirties who has lived a tough life, is terminally ill and has suffered a great deal of under nourishment. I imagined at least a ten year gap between Mirah and her brother, so the possibility that it was Mordecai didn’t seem so astonishing.

As for Daniel Deronda being condescending. Well the author doesn’t think so. Otherwise she wouldn’t have said this about him.

’And Deronda's conscience included sensibilities beyond the common, enlarged by his early habit of thinking himself imaginatively into the experience of others.’

In fact, apart from perhaps Mrs. Meyrick, Deronda is probably the most empathetic character in the book. He agonises over almost every good deed he does and is perfectly aware that the recipients of his ‘charity’ might not want what he has provided. For me, condescension springs out of arrogance and haughtiness, of which Deronda has none. Finding rooms for Mordecai was no different from the way he found rooms for Hans in the first instance. He wanted his friends to have comfortable surroundings and he had the means to provide it.

For me, the recurring theme throughout this section was love and friendship, with the dark spectres of jealousy and prejudice piercing through some shameless facades.

Gwendolen met Mirah twice, met Deronda twice, saw Klesmer once and saw Lydia once. All those meetings and sightings contributed significantly to the love, friendship, jealousy, prejudice drama.

I was surprised that Gwendolen resented Klesmer’s smile when she saw him before hearing Mirah sing.

’ The smile seemed to each a lightning-flash back on that morning when it had been her ambition to stand as the "little Jewess" was standing, and survey a grand audience from the higher rank of her talent—instead of which she was one of the ordinary crowd in silk and gems, whose utmost performance it must be to admire or find fault. "He thinks I am in the right road now," said the lurking resentment within her.’

Maybe it was partly a lack of self knowledge that left Gwendolen so desperate to seek Deronda’s help. Listening to Mirah’s singing should have made her realise how right Klesmer was about her chances.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRd4t...

(Beethoven: Ah Perfido!, Op. 65 - Aria "Per pietà, non dirmi addio")

Deronda’s disgust at the audience’s comments about the ‘little Jewess’ not only emphasised his lack of prejudice compared with the rest, but also his heartfelt sympathy and guilt for putting her in a position to have such anti-semitic remarks directed at her.

When it was revealed that Mordecai and Mirah were brother and sister, it felt like a fusion of those two would only intensify the feelings that Deronda would have for them both. But the attachment with Gwendolen also had a claim on his heart. There may have been more pity there than love, but it was strong enough for him to attempt to help even though he thought it was hopeless.

’ There was a foreshadowing of some painful collision: on the one side the grasp of Mordecai's dying hand on him, with all the ideals and prospects it aroused; on the other the fair creature in silk and gems, with her hidden wound and her self-dread, making a trustful effort to lean and find herself sustained. It was as if he had a vision of himself besought with outstretched arms and cries, while he was caught by the waves and compelled to mount the vessel bound for a far-off coast.’

I loved the description of 🐊Grandcourt🐊 as a lizard with his obsessive jealousy not of love but of correct appearance making him become a stalker of his wife’s every movement and decision.

….’ he looked at her with his most lizard-like expression and, played with the ears of the tiny spaniel on his lap (Gwendolen had taken a dislike to the dogs because they fawned on him)…



Her desperate attempt to see Deronda at her own home showed Gwendolen at her most reckless. For all her intelligence and wit, it was a stupid thing to do. But ground down by jealous Lydia’s appearance, the ‘perfectness’ of Mirah, the increasing callousness of her 🐊husband🐊 and Lush’s humiliating return, Gwendolen seems to be reaching some sort of hiatus. 🐊Grandcourt’s🐊 decision to get out of London and snap the bond between Gwendolen and Deronda might break her one way or another.

My first glimmer that Mordecai was not an old man came in Chapter 40:

‘Imagine--we all of us can--the pathetic stamp of consumption with its brilliancy of glance to which the sharply-defined structure of features reminding one of a forsaken temple, give already a far-off look as of one getting unwillingly out of reach; and imagine it on a Jewish face naturally accentuated for the expression of an eager mind--the face of a man little above thirty, but with that age upon it which belongs to time lengthened by suffering, the hair and beard, still black, throwing out the yellow pallor of the skin…”

I was shocked, but the revelation that Mordecai was Mirah’s long-lost brother confirmed that I wasn’t delusional (at least not on this point!).

As others have mentioned, I thought Deronda was a little high-handed in deciding on a new wardrobe and a new home for Mordecai. I also wonder if Deronda’s continuing advice to Gwendolen ever appears dangerous to him. While he may be sympathetic to her unhappiness, he doesn’t seem to grasp that fact that she is attracted to him and, as a married woman, may be flirting with disaster. I do feel Gwendolen’s remorse and fear, and I am also concerned that the yacht trip may be a trap of some sort.

Also, regarding the picture of the lizard, yuck! Your additions are always great, Trev.

I love Trev’s contributions!

Trev wrote: "He agonises over almost every good deed he does and is perfectly aware that the recipients of his ‘charity’ might not want what he has provided. For me, condescension springs out of arrogance and haughtiness, of which Deronda has none.."

Trev, I agree that condescending is not the best word to describe that aspect of Daniel. Paternalistic is more apt.

Gwendolen remorseful, Gwendolen unhappy, Gwendolen needing help ....ok, but she is also a manipulative bitch.

I just cannot interpret all her communication with Deronda as innocent search for help. First she harps on Deronda's aversion to gambling over and over again. Then she plays the lost lamb - baa! - in need of rescue. Now she doubles down on that by saying that it's Deronda's decision and responsibility whether she is lost or not: this is the height of foul play, and simply disgusting.

If you say you wish you had not meddled—that means you despair of me and forsake me. And then you will decide for me that I shall not be good. It is you who will decide;

I’m not sure what to make of Gwendolen, and it seems to me that Eliot intentionally creates ambivalence about her character. The narrative voice tells us about Grandcourt’s behaviour and Gwendolen’s unhappiness, which leads to sympathy. But then we get these manipulative moves - and they only appear in the dialogues with DD. the narration does not contain any hints to Gwendolen’s amorous or flirtatious intentions. So here’s a gap with a lot of room for ambiguity.

sabagrey wrote: "Gwendolen remorseful, Gwendolen unhappy, Gwendolen needing help ....ok, but she is also a manipulative bitch.

I just cannot interpret all her communication with Deronda as innocent search for hel..."

I agree-I think the ambivalence about Gwendolen is intentional. I wonder how much is influenced by Eliot's own unconventional life (she lived with a married man for many years, work as a translator and journal editor before embarking on writing fiction for publication) and the understanding that women were so disadvantaged in terms of life choices-Gwendolen apparently feeling she had no option but to "support" her family by marrying a man she didn't love and breaking her word to Lydia.

Grandcourt doesn’t seem bothered about Deronda meeting his wife in secret, I believe that these upper classes thought more about scandal than they did adultery, I suppose everyone was at it!

This section is far more interesting than the last. Daniel is about to meet his mother for the first time, that’s exciting but my conjecture is that the name Halm-Eberstein has a Jewish ring to it?