Farebrother seems to do quite well with the gambling. For Fred and Lydgate (why does he get to be called by his last name?!) short term disaster, but in the long term, perhaps good for them.
I think Eliot is well aware that it’s easier to be good if you are comfortably well off. Even the Garths have paying jobs and a roof over their head.
I think Lydgate’s kindness to Bulstrode was the right thing to do and I don’t think it probably made that big a difference in how he was treated.
My husband did not read the book, but we watched the mini-series together and it was interesting how it really emphasized the plot which I think can get lost in the weeds in the book. He was always anticipating the next move and wondering who was going to get married or die, or inherit the money.
I agree that it’s easier to be good if you’re comfortably well off, but a bad penny is a bad penny. Bulstrode was financially comfortable during his first moral lapse, and even moreso during his second. And in-between, his good acts were mostly self-serving – performed to achieve or maintain his reputation, not from any desire to do real good (like Dorothea).
Bulstrode got away with basically not being a very nice person because of his social standing. The Garths are much better people, but they are looked down upon by those in a class a notch above: “Even when Caleb Garth was prosperous, the Vincys were on condescending terms with him and his wife, for there were nice distinctions of rank in Middlemarch.” The Garths are respected for being hard-working and honest, but that doesn’t mean there will be any social mixing – another funny line of Eliot’s: “…his honorable exertions had won him due esteem; but in no part of the world is genteel visiting founded on esteem, in the absence of suitable furniture and complete dinner-service.”
Maybe part of the difference has to do with gambling as a means to get out of debt. Both Fred and Lydgate seem desperate and place bets they can ill-afford or seem unable to stop when ill-favored by luck.
Farebrother, on the other hand, supplements his income with cards. If I remember correctly, he knows his strengths in that regard and doesn’t lose (or else quits while he’s ahead). He easily stops when he no longer needs the money as a source of income (rather than a need to get out of debt.) His attitude seems healthier rather than an addiction. He controls it rather than being controlled by it.
I admire Lydgate for helping Bulstrode. He already had an inkling that Bulstrode had irrevocably damaged his reputation but, as a doctor, he couldn’t leave him.
We, the readers, know that Bulstrode commits what amounts to murder. Giving Raffles more alcohol rather than denying it would have been the norm at that time. The other doctors would have, in fact, prescribed doing exactly that. Therefore, no proof of murder is forthcoming. Only Lydgate knows that isn’t what he wanted Bulstrode to do but he can’t be sure that the screw-up was intentional. Bulstrode was tired - perhaps he was no longer thinking clearly when he directed the housekeeper. (We know better, though, don’t we.)
“a school-girl’s dream, and a vulgar dream at that”…Rufus Sewell…hmmm…okay FINE.
Really though, I think Henry James and Lord David Cecil need to lighten up. Will may not be as intellectual or as spiritual or as complicated as Dorothea, but perhaps “just a good guy” (as @Caraid termed him) is exactly what Dorothea needs. Don’t we all know couples who seem on the surface to be mismatched, but somehow, it works?
What does Will offer her that her first husband does not? For starters (presumably), a physical relationship. But more than that, he treats her as an equal, not condescendingly like Casaubon did. Dorothea won’t spend her life worrying that she has somehow given offense and won’t be afraid to say what’s on her mind. And she might have some fun along the way…Will is “delightfully agreeable” – not dour and humorless like Casuabon.
Will and Dorothea have already established that they don’t see life the same way, but it’s implicit in the way they talk that are willing to learn from each other. I think the real problem is that he’s not as much fun as say Darcy is.
I found the whole scene where Dorothy’s engagement was discussed surprising. Mr. Brooke is, of course, his usual bumbling self - kind of against it, but already beginning to think it’s fine and dandy. But I did not expect Sir James to be so horrified. Sure, she’s giving up a lot of money, but is Will really so much beneath her? I have a hard time seeing this marriage as “wrong” which he keeps saying. (I like the hint that jealousy and avarice may have played a part in his strong reaction.) And then Celia is indignant because Dorothea said she would never marry again.
Mrs. Cadwallader is great:
@mary13 well, number #5 question about Will as a love interest, is exactly what I asked initially, what traits did Dorothea admire, why was she so drawn to him?
Thank you, all for answering it for me, but just wanted to say “I’m not the only one who questioned that relationship” !
Curious, in the novel was he described as such a hunk? As @mary13 mentioned , “those eyes, those eyes” ?
@mathmom, I agree with you that Sir James’ objection is not so much with Will (as he states), but because of what he will lose. He’ll miss the opportunity to help Dorothea in the management of a huge estate, but more than that, he’ll miss Dorothea herself. I’m sure he’s a good husband to Celia, but I think he still carries a torch for her sister and wants her around like a prized work of art that he can view at his leisure.
One thing that’s nice about a mini-series is that you can hear people speak – imagining how they look is fairly easy when reading, imagining how they sound, less so. I bring that up because this is one of the first things Will notices about Dorothea; he’s not impressed with her words when they are introduced, but is charmed by the sound: “But what a voice! It was like the voice of a soul who lived in an Aeolian harp.”
Will makes the Aeolian harp comparison again later in the book, so I looked it up: “An Aeolian harp is a musical instrument that is played by the wind. Named for Aeolus, the ancient Greek god of the wind, the traditional Aeolian harp is essentially a wooden box including a sounding board, with strings stretched lengthwise across two bridges. It is often placed in a slightly opened window where the wind can blow across the strings to produce sounds.”
Sounds lovely…but also suggests that Dorothea’s actions are capricious and prompted by forces outside her control. I don’t really think of her that way though. She does have several key scenes standing before an open window, which now seems to me to be deliberate placement.
@jerseysouthmomchess, Will is described with gray eyes, light brown curls, a youthful appearance and a smile that “lit up his features very agreeably.” So yes, I’d say he’s supposed to be good-looking. And since Rosamond enjoys his company, that likely confirms it.
I agree with jealousy. It was my first thought. I don’t think Sir James ever got over Dorothea’s rejection, especially since she rejected him for Mr. Casaubon. As a reader, I was rooting for Will and Dorothea to end up together. They both deserved happiness.
I love Will’s description of Dorothea’s voice as a Aeolian harp. He is an artist and interprets his world through his senses. Maybe the comparison to the harp isn’t that Dorothea wasn’t in control of her actions, but that she sometimes needed a push from outside of herself to look in a different direction and see different options.
^ I love that interpretation!
The BBC scene when Dorothea walked in on Rosamond and Will, made me gasp out loud, convincing me they were caught. It was unsettling.
Did Elliot embellish this and make the reader believe R and W were romantically involved, or was that resolved as quickly as it was in the BBC version.
In the novel, we know what’s in Will Ladislaw’s mind (re his devotion to Dorothea), so as a reader, I never doubted him – I just waited for the details on what had occurred. The BBC adaptation is accurate: After Dorothea sees them together, Will lashes out at Rosamond (since it was her advances that he was trying to earnestly but politely reject). She makes a sarcastic comment to him about Dorothea being his preference, and he answers:
So no question about how he feels! Rosamond’s vanity is hurt, but as we know, she does the right thing and explains all to Dorothea, then sends the note to Will.
This is certainly oversimplifying, but I came away with the message attributed to the other St. Teresa – St. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who wasn’t even born yet when George Eliot wrote Middlemarch:
“In this life, not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”
Are we ready to pick a book for June?
In answer to the question posed earlier, “Does Middlemarch kill book clubs?”, I would say no – while acknowledging that reading Middlemarch during a global pandemic while riddled with anxiety and distracted by visions of the End Times is…challenging. But who knew?
What would you all like to read next? I promise we won’t pick Remembrance of Things Past, Ulyssses, Atlas Shrugged or Infinite Jest. 
Instead the first edition reads here:
I think one of us too would have pointed out that no one in Middlemarch thought the marriage a good idea. I find it interesting that Eliot just dropped the sentences after listening to the criticism.
They knew each other well, having been close since childhood. Neither entered marriage without expectations clearly spelled out. Mary had no intention of marrying Fred unless he straightened up. He understood clearly that the girl loved him and vice-versa, but she wouldn’t enter into marriage if she couldn’t respect him also. I think it a really sweet love story - actually like it better than Dorothea and Will.