The Lifted Veil

by George Eliot

Horror was my familiar.

Published the same year as her first novel, Adam Bede, this overlooked work displays the gifts for which George Eliot would become famous—gritty realism, psychological insight, and idealistic moralizing. It is unique from all her other writing, however, in that it represents the only time she ever used a first-person narrator, and it is the only time she wrote about the supernatural.

The tale of a man who is incapacitated by visions of the future and the cacophony of overheard thoughts, and yet who can’t help trying to subvert his vividly glimpsed destiny, it is easy to read The Lifted Veil as being autobiographically revealing—of Eliot’s sensitivity to public opinion and her awareness that her days concealed behind a pseudonym were doomed to a tragic unveiling (as indeed came to pass soon after this novella’s publication). But it is easier still to read the story as the exciting and genuine precursor of a moody new form, as well as an absorbing early masterpiece of suspense.

The Art of The Novella Series

Too short to be a novel, too long to be a short story, the novella is generally unrecognized by academics and publishers. Nonetheless, it is a form beloved and practiced by literature's greatest writers. In the Art Of The Novella series, Melville House celebrates this renegade art form and its practitioners with titles that are, in many instances, presented in book form for the first time.

Genres: Classics, Fiction, Horror, Gothic, Short Stories, 19th Century, Victorian

75 pages, Paperback

First published July 1, 1859

About the author

Mary Ann Evans, known by her pen name George Eliot, was an English novelist, poet, journalist, translator, and one of the leading writers of the Victorian era. She wrote seven novels: Adam Bede (1859), The Mill on the Floss (1860), Silas Marner (1861), Romola (1862–1863), Felix Holt, the Radical (1866), Middlemarch (1871–1872) and Daniel Deronda (1876). Like Charles Dickens and Thomas Hardy, she emerged from provincial England; most of her works are set there. Her works are known for their realism, psychological insight, sense of place and detailed depiction of the countryside.
Middlemarch was described by the novelist Virginia Woolf as "one of the few English novels written for grown-up people" and by Martin Amis and Julian Barnes as the greatest novel in the English language.

Reviews

[Adina · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’ve had Middlemarch on my TBR for years but the prospect of starting this doorstopper was daunting (still is). A few weeks ago, I somehow discovered this novella and thought that it might be a good way to see if I like the author’s writing style before committing myself to a much harder task. In theory, the idea was good but I soon realised that this was a fantastic novella, the only of this kind she wrote. As such, my opinion of this particular work could not weight too much in my decision to read or not to read Middlemarch.

The lifted Veil is, in my opinion, one of the better examples of a gothic tale. It is a bit tedious with its ever-present flashbacks but the mystery and the atmosphere is spooky enough. The narrator has a talent for premonitions, reading other’s thoughts and bad decisions, despite knowing the results. He hides his skill and pays for the omission. He marries a mysteries and mischievous woman who will torment his life. It offers a bleak version of marriage but I enjoyed reading the novella.

[Peter · Rating 3 out of 5]

The story was a bit tedious starting with a flashback of a dying man on the days of his life. We hear about his education, his effeminate character, the brother, the successful father, his relationship to a close friend of his, Meunier. After his brother's death, mysterious Bertha is married to the protagonist of our story. She's a very mysterious and shady woman (liked the comparison to Cleopatra taken by the author). You always feel there is some mischief to come. But it takes endless pages until the tension sets in. The denouement is okay but nothing spectacular. The story itself is well written but a bit too slow for my liking. Recommended for all friends of a classic story though!

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quite an oddity for Eliot; a novella that can be read in one sitting and a first person narrator. It also has a distinct gothic edge and feels in the tradition of Mary Shelley and Poe. The themes are not so much supernatural as pseudo-scientific. It concerns the narrator Latimer who believes himself to have extra sensory powers; the ability to see the future and read the thoughts of others. There’s also a spot of mesmerism and the idea that a blood transfusion on death may temporarily raise someone from the dead (you can always practice this sort of thing on the family servants).
The narrator Latimer is certainly and unreliable narrator one feels. His seeming ability to forsee scenes and see thoughts start in his teenage years and is something he keeps quiet. He becomes fascinated by Bertha, his brother’s fiancée. He has a premonition of them marrying and being unhappy (to say more would invite spoilers). Latimer’s brother dies very suddenly, and indeed he marries Bertha.
What is consistent with Eliot’s other works is the importance of morality. If we were able to see into the hearts of others we would be horrified. The plot devices allow Eliot to explore a deep cynicism about human nature and it is rather gloomy. Latimer’s gifts are really a curse and there is a strong misanthropic element in his character. I think Eliot is playing with plot devices; Latimer has no choice but to be an omniscient narrator as the author gives him the ability to see the future and the thoughts of others. The title is interesting and the obvious conclusion is that it could be the veil between life and death or the veil between one consciousness and another; but this quote is illuminative as Latimer describes his vision of a Bridge in Prague, a city he has not yet visited;
“I could not believe that I had been asleep, for I remembered distinctly the gradual breaking in of the vision upon me, like the new images in a dissolving view, or the growing distinction of the landscape as the sun lifts up the veil of the morning mist.”
Latimer had hoped his abilities would be the birth of a poetic sense, he was disappointed and he struggles to cope with his abilities. There is a deep narcissism in Latimer and there is no altruism. It is all about using the gift to find out what others think of him and seeing himself mirrored in others. It doesn’t occur to him to use the gift for the good of others. This may also be Eliot’s reflections on the Victorian Spiritualist phase which she had some interest in. It is also interesting to note that Latimer is described as weak and sickly and he is mostly reactive rather than proactive; Eliot places him in what would have been a traditionally female role in Victorian fiction.
All in all it is an oddity, but I enjoyed it and although the tale is rather bleak, I do think Eliot is having a little fun with the institution of marriage. It is worth looking out for and won’t take up much of your time.

[Lynne King · Rating 5 out of 5]

And she made me believe that she loved me. Without every quitting her tone of badinage and playful superiority, she intoxicated me with the sense that I was necessary to her, that she was never at ease, unless I was near to her, submitting to her playful tyranny. It costs a woman so little effort to besot us in this way!

George Eliot’s (born Mary Anne Evans) imagination cannot be faulted at all throughout this gem of a novella. It is a tour de force captured in a mere seventy-five pages.

There’s something about nineteenth century novelists. There’s a crispness in their writing style in combination with the correctness of the language, in fact to the point of perfection, which isn’t so apparent in twentieth and twenty-first century authors.

This book was published at the same time as Adam Bede but it has nevertheless been overlooked for a long time. It is also distinct from her other books in that she used a first-person narrator here.

The need for Evans to resort to a pseudonym makes me wonder if she thought that her book would not be equally appreciated as she was a female writer in the Victorian age?

The plot is indeed rather unusual and opens with Latimer, the narrator, realizing that the end of his life is approaching as he’s been having problems with angina; his physician does not believe either that his life will be protracted. Thus Latimer decides to tell the strange story of his own experiences.

Deprived of a public school education, as it was a fact that he was too sensitive and shy to put up with the rough experience of a public school, the only avenue left open to him was to have private tutors. His father didn’t appear to be too fond of him and his preference was for the older boy, Alfred, his successor, who went to Eton and Oxford.

But then Latimer’s life changed remarkably when he went to Geneva at the age of sixteen. However, he became ill there and his father decided to take him back to England. At this stage of his life our narrator was beginning to have visions and very odd things were happening to him. This was a gift that put him into a state of great excitement but before returning to England he met Bertha Grant and upon sight of her he fainted (I thought only women did that?]. Latimer then began to wonder if he had a mysterious disease.

Bertha was to marry Alfred and our narrator then had a passion for this woman and the downward spiral began with a most unfortunate occurrence. He found that he could see into people’s souls, which showed him plainly that what people appeared to be on the outside were not that necessarily that way inside. Then he had foreseen an event that involved Bertha which proved to be true. For a young man who had never believed in evil, he had now reached the nadir of despair.

The metaphysical and supernatural aspects of this novella are exquisitely described. Eliot’s mastery of suspense is maintained up until the penultimate page, when the secret was finally revealed.

And then the curse of insight – of my double consciousness, came again, and has never left me. I know all their narrow thoughts, their feeble regard, their half-wearied pity.

Something that I never knew, as was explained on the dust jacket about this series by Melville House was that:

Too short to be a novel, too long to be a short story, the novella is generally unrecognized by academics and publishers. Nevertheless, it is a form beloved and practiced by literature’s greatest writers. In the Art of the Novella Series here, Melville House celebrates this renegade art form and its practitioners with titles that are, in many instances, presented in book form for the first time.

I’ll definitely read more of this author’s works.

[Jan-Maat]

Two completely different works in this slim volume, a short short : The Lifted Veil (1859) (pp5-70) and a literary critical piece on women's fiction: Silly Novels by Lady Novelists (1856) (pp73-110) (guess what she thinks about them there is a clue in the title) both together in one volume purely to get the book up to 110 pages in length, they share nothing in common.

This book is one of the penguin Little black classics series, which despite being in and out of bookshops now and again with the express purpose of looking for books to buy, I have never noticed on sale to the public, the only other book in this series that I've read is Mary Shelley's Matilda which by some curious circumstance is a little similar to The Lifted Veil in that both stories start with an unknown narrator promising to tell us the innocent reader the story of their life because they are approaching death. Both are also one trick stories: Shelley's story is her wondering what would happen if a father and daughter were reunited after many years of separation, and the father is obsessed with his daughter's deceased mother, and the daughter looks very much like her mother... and if you are thinking 'incestuous longing' is what will happen you would not be wrong, here Eliot wonders what would happen if a man had clairvoyant powers of a limited kind if you are thinking, 'well he'd have a lot of fun working as a police investigator, or professional poker player, or in the stock market' then you would be wrong. I suppose inline with Eliot's novels, and she was a-working on The Mill on the Floss while writing this presumably for cash flow reasons this is a study in character and the weak and feeble, ie typically feminine from a mid-Victorian point of view, character of the main figure determines the story (his wife in a bit of gender play is the thrusting and criminally ambitious one, as he is overwhelmed by his visions of the future and apart from once feels unable to change or prevent events from happening. In passing he refers to himself as a ghost seer which struck me as unfamiliar in English but rung a bell - Schiller wrote a story called Der Geisterseher and since there is some play in the story around the writings of the German Romantics I wonder if Eliot's story borrows from, or picks up on a theme from, or develops an idea from the Schiller thriller, which naturally I have not read, but I have my suspicions, dark and sinister suspicions.

Some nice turns of phrase particularly on the ability of rich people to afford more complex marital arrangements in those difficult times before modern divorce laws were introduced - Eliot herself, or rather the man in her life was rather inconvenienced by the absence of an equitable divorce law, and so never could be a public figure as a literary heavyweight in Victorian Britain.

Silly Novels by Lady Novelists I felt very awkward about this one, it wasn't so much She stoops to Conquer as she stomps to conquer and she stamps for thirty odd pages over much trashy Victorian rubbish appealing to audiences as uncritical and highly segmented as we are familiar with today - ie young Methodist ladies who want to sigh over the love story in which the plain overlooked girl with a good heart gets to marry the young curate who may be ugly, but is unbending on questions of church discipline. I don't disagree with anything she says, but since I am mild mannered there is something uncomfortable about it - like watching a heavy-weight boxing champion go into a school and take on the pupils for five rounds each in the ring, laughing he knocks them down and out as the bell goes.

[Axl Oswaldo · Rating 4 out of 5]

En esta nouvelle de estilo gótico, George Eliot nos presenta a Latimer, un hombre que desde muy joven ha sufrido malestares y enfermedad, además de comenzar a manifestarse en él una serie de visiones, que lo harán dudar entre lo que podría ser real y lo que no; a esto se suma la llegada de Bertha, quien le dará un significado diferente a su vida.

De entrada, quedé muy sorprendido con esta historia corta (apenas 115 páginas) donde la autora logra desarrollar completamente una trama bien escrita y junto a ella a los dos personajes principales.

Si bien la lectura se me hizo un poco pesada (mas no aburrida), fue necesario llevar un ritmo lento y pausado al ser un extenso monólogo de Latimer quien nos va narrando su historia, con arduos detalles y descripciones. Y por cierto, la forma de escribir de Eliot me impresionó demasiado, no tenía idea de que me encontraría con una atmósfera con toques de misterio, y con un protagonista más misterioso aún. El final sin duda, de lo mejor (que además ya se anticipa porque el libro ‘inicia’ con él).

“Mientras el corazón late, hiérelo: es tu única oportunidad; mientras los ojos aún puedan volverse hacia ti con una tímida súplica en la que tiemblen las lágrimas, destrózalos con una mirada helada que niegue toda respuesta...”

[Lee Klein · Rating 3 out of 5]

Flowing first-person old-timey "overwritten" prose, an unhinged Gothic psychohorror starring the clairvoyant Romantic poet aristocratic narrator haunted by premonitions of Prague and marriage to his brother's beguiling bride Bertha, characterized as a sort of devious and delusive (<-- a word I've learned from Eliot -- appears in Middlemarch too) "slyph," a water-sprite, a nix. There's an image of a sort of foresight coming on related to an oil stain on the street ("the patch of rainbow light on the pavement transmitted through a lamp in the shape of a star") that reminded me of how Bellow got the idea for Augie March from seeing such a stain in Paris, and there's a phrase that made me think of Bolano's "oases of horror in a desert of boredom:" "she was my oasis of mystery in the dreary desert of knowledge." I suppose there's a line in here that's like this is what happens when you forego religion, but it reads more like a psychologically intense literary entertainment with a pleasing, fairly sensationalist ending. Generally, a novella only really worth reading if you're interested in a solid example of flowing 19th century first-person POV prose, or a very slant portrait of a marriage gone sour, or classic depictions of total weirdos in literature. Feels like something under the influence of other writers instead of something wholly her own.

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

A supernatural novella tale of seeing into the future. A sickly man finds he can see into the future. His strong healthy brother dies leaving him available to marry his brothers fiancé. However, Bertha does not love him and instead despises him. Interesting reading about injecting live blood in dead people to reanimate them briefly back to life. This us done with his wives maid who tells him his wife plans to poison him. He separates from his wife and waits till he knows he is going to die.

I found the story interesting but if you know the day you are going to die why not have a doctor present or someone. All a bit odd.

[Werner · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book won't be every reader's cup of tea. As the above description suggests, its subject matter was atypical for Eliot --though she wrote it in 1859, her publishers found it so different from her usual work that they delayed printing it until 1878. Premised as it is on psychic phenomena --flashes of telepathy and precognition, which in Eliot's day were just beginning to attract the attention of some intellectuals, and of the public (the titular "veil" is the one that hides the future)-- I would definitely classify it as science-fiction; but most genre buffs might not recognize it as that, because of the unfamiliar Victorian style and the lack of any attempt to advance an explicitly scientific explanation for the protagonist's abilities. But we're in the realm of "soft" sci-fi here; Eliot wasn't interested in "explaining" her premise, but rather in using it to explore certain thematic concerns. And while they're approached here from a (for her) fresh angle, those concerns turn out to be some of the same ones that are prominent in her better-known, more "respectable" descriptive fiction: the necessity, for human happiness, of healthy human relationships; and the question of whether we're the active architects of our own future or just hapless puppets of fate. (Her protagonist assumes the latter; the author's sympathies are with the former view, but she doesn't spell this out explicitly --the reader has to work to dig it out between the lines.)

This is a dark, somber novel, unremittingly serious, concentrating on the inner life of the characters more than on outward events (though the latter are mentioned to illuminate the former). Written in the Romantic style, the emotions it seeks to evoke are fear and sorrow; and many modern readers will find the narrative pace somewhat slow, though the short length (67 pages --the 1985 Penguin edition has a helpful critical Afterward that adds about two dozen pages) partly compensates for this. (IMO, the stylistic influence of Poe can be detected here; and in turn, this work very probably influenced Henry James.) But if modern readers can get past these features, there is rewarding content here.

[Francesca Calarco · Rating 3 out of 5]

Is it the veil of reality that is lifting, or the notion of civility the moment two people lift the wedding veil of marriage in Victorian England? Is it superpowers or is it insanity? Either way, George Eliot spins a fascinating, if short, tale exploring these topics with The Lifted Veil.

Perhaps an unusual introduction to Eliot’s work, I am still very impressed with her use of prose to convey uncertainty, and this novella is chock full of uncertainty. This story follows Latimer, an individual with the uncanny ability to see into the future, as well as into the thoughts of other people. He becomes fixated with, and perhaps even falls in love with, a woman named Bertha. Having such a firm grasp of other’s psyches and intentions, Bertha’s aloofness and emotional distance becomes an inescapable draw for him. What Latimer can see though, is his doom, and Bertha is somehow involved.

The supernatural elements of clairvoyance are not really presented as the focus, so much as a vehicle for assessing what one may do with the knowledge of their inevitable demise. Destruction of a love, a marriage, and possibly even a life—here it is all presented as an inevitability. Yet the shear pull of desire’s force renders the narrator powerless to his intense and romantic fixation. While he cannot see everything, he can see that it will end horrifically. Yet the magnitude of the feeling overwhelms him.

“You have known the powerlessness of ideas before the might of impulse; and my visions, when once they had passed into memory, were mere ideas—pale shadows that beckoned in vain, while my hand was grasped by the living and the loved.”

Yet one must wonder, does Eliot imply that if the path to destruction is set in stone, you might as well enjoy it? Even if it hurts, even if it ruins, she seems to have a rather carpe diem approach to the allure of a femme fetal. “While the heart beats, bruise it—it is your only opportunity.” It is hard to discern if this is written in empathy for Latimer, or as a declarative statement for why people give into desire when all logic would be screaming otherwise.

What I think is important to keep in mind though, is that our protagonist is at heart an unreliable narrator; his own family believes him to be a bit mad. Does he truly have powers of clairvoyance, or is his condition making him think that his anxieties are in fact manifesting into reality? Could he be hearing voices, or is he just hearing a projection of his fears and insecurities? I guess the answer to these questions lie in whether or not you believe the powers to be real or not. I myself am on the fence with this one.

Though a bit short, this novella features some great prose, an interesting mystery, and for me was a solid introduction into George Eliot’s creativity as an author. I both recommend this book, and look forward to reading more of her stuff.

Rating: 3.5 stars

[César Lasso · Rating 4 out of 5]

Una novelita o nouvelle que se puede leer de una sentada, y mi primer contacto con la autora victoriana George Eliot. La he leído en traducción española, de la que existen al menos dos versiones con ligera variación en el título. El texto original inglés se puede obtener de forma gratuita, en formato Epub o Kindle, en The Project Gutenberg.

La obra se deja leer y, en algún momento, me ha recordado vagamente a una obra maestra posterior en tres décadas: El retrato de Dorian Gray. Quizás, lo que me sugería la novela de Wilde era el elemento sobrenatural, que en realidad es una excusa para la descripción psicológica de los protagonistas: el antihéroe masculino recibe el “don” traicionero de captar los pensamientos de cuantos lo rodean y de atisbar imágenes del futuro. Sin embargo, se embarca en un empeño de casarse con una mujer misteriosa a sabiendas de que la cosa acabará mal. En eso, hay también una referencia al Fausto de Goethe. Transcribo el pasaje de la versión inglesa que así lo sugiere, procedente del proyecto Gutenberg:

It is an old story, that men sell themselves to the tempter, and sign a bond with their blood, because it is only to take effect at a distant day; then rush on to snatch the cup their souls thirst after with an impulse not the less savage because there is a dark shadow beside them for evermore.

Lectura entretenida que, sin embargo, me ha dado la impresión de que iba perdiendo fuelle a medida que se aproximaba el final. Le doy tres estrellitas y media.

[Fionnuala]

A few days after the incident of the opal ring, we were paying one of our frequent visits to the Lichtenberg Palace. I could never look at many pictures in succession; for pictures, when they are at all powerful, affect me so strongly that one or two exhaust all my capability of contemplation. This morning I had been looking at Giorgione’s picture of the cruel-eyed woman, said to be a likeness of Lucrezia Borgia. I had stood long alone before it, fascinated by the terrible reality of that cunning, relentless face, till I felt a strange poisoned sensation, as if I had long been inhaling a fatal odour, and was just beginning to be conscious of its effects.…



I can't find a portrait of Lucrezia Borgia by Giorgione but this one by Bartolomeo Veneto fits the description of the painting the narrator saw in the Lichtenberg Palace, as well as matching perfectly with the strange dream he had after viewing the painting:
Intense and hopeless misery was pressing on my soul; the light became stronger, for Bertha was entering with a candle in her hand—Bertha, my wife—with cruel eyes, with green jewels and green leaves on her white ball-dress…

Neeless to say, there will be poison mentioned again in this strange story, and further descriptions of hard cold eyes. I'm inclined to think that 'The Lifted Veil' is George Eliot's The Turn of the Screw.

[Sarah ~ · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Lifted Veil - George Eliot

نوفيلا قصيرة ولطيفة إلى حد ما، تدور في إطار من الغموض مع "شبهة" أحداث ماوراء طبيعية، ويغلب عليها السرد الشعري و"التحذلق" اللغوي وقصيرة يمكن قراءتها في أقل من ساعة.
القراءة الأولى لجورج إليوت، حاولت قراءة روايتها مدل مارش أكثر من مرة ولم أتمكن من إكمال الصفحات الأولى ولكن بعد هذه النوفيلا سأعيد المحاولة مرة أخرى.

[Carlo Mascellani · Rating 2 out of 5]

Preveggenza e lettura del pensiero possono sembrare qualità invidiabili da possedere: ma siamo poi così certi di esser pronti a sostenere cosa potremmo trovare nella mente altrui o a scoprire cosa veramente gli altri pensino di noi? Trama in sé originale, ma stile molto datato. E, a essere sinceri, l'avrei vista meglio se sviluppata in un romanzo più lungo e meglio strutturato, senza improvvisi e ingiustificati sbalzi temporali.

[Melania &#x1f352;]

3.5|5

[Nicky · Rating 3 out of 5]

I haven’t read much of George Eliot’s work at all, which I should probably be more ashamed of. Still, a friend passed this and Brother Jacob on to me after she was done with it back at university, and I finally got round to actually reading it. I was surprised to find that it’s a supernatural story, in a way, dealing with clairvoyance — and not just as a societal trend, but one character truly is clairvoyant. I didn’t think Eliot wrote anything speculative like that at all, which is probably my own ignorance. (My only defence, as a holder of two English degrees, is to protest that this was emphatically not my period at all.)

Given that it isn’t my period, I still found this pretty interesting, because it explored the implications for a person who discovered they had such an ability, and because the loveless relationship with his wife — whom he married because he couldn’t see into her mind — had real moments of pathos. It does feel at times like an early Men’s Rights Activist screed when it talks about Bertha: the way she beguiles the narrator:

"And she made me believe that she loved me. Without ever quitting her tone of badinage and playful superiority, she intoxicated me with the sense that I was necessary to her, that she was never at ease, unless I was near to her, submitting to her playful tyranny. It costs a woman so little effort to besot us in this way!"

Eh. I’m pretty tired of the femme fatales who can do that — trust me, I have never found anyone that easy to wrap around my little finger, even if they thought I was pretty. Give it a rest, men are not at the mercy of their gonads.

Anyway, it’s an interesting speculative story, though it’s too short to really bear the weight of much observation — there’s no whys and wherefores to be found as regards the cause of the narrator’s clairvoyance.

Originally posted here.

[Sergio · Rating 3 out of 5]

Questo racconto scritto nel 1859 da George Eliot [1819-1880] ha accenti gotici e, nonostante l’originalità del tema, non mi ha del tutto convinto: sarà colpa del ricordo ancora fresco della soddisfacente lettura di sue opere magistrali come “Middlemarch” e “Il Mulino sulla Floss” che reputo tra i migliori esempi della letteratura anglosassone dell’ottocento, ma quest’opera breve manca di profondità e di ariosità nonostante l’abilità dell’autrice di tenere sotto controllo un racconto che potrebbe facilmente deragliare.
Latimer, il protagonista del racconto, partendo dalla sua infanzia, narra le vicissitudini personali e sentimentali nate dalla progressiva consapevolezza di saper leggere nel pensiero degli interlocutori, di vedere il futuro e, condizionato suo malgrado da questa “qualità”, a vivere una vita distorta e condizionata che gli alienerà amori e amicizie.

[Mary ♥ · Rating 5 out of 5]

5/5 stars

While the heart beats, bruise it- it is your only opportunity.

TWs: Gaslighting, manipulation, non-consented medical operation

This small short story was in my university list for the previous semester, and while reading it, I did not know what to expect. The gothic element made me think I would probably love it, and as I expected, that happened indeed. This is packed with many ideas about gender and gender ideology, patriarchy enforcing itself in mind and body and pitting women against each other, as well as the reality masking your personality and building a safer self.

This is the story of a man who could, through certain "episodes" read minds and glimpse into the future, and who tried to take the power patriarchy stripped him of back by abusing this gift in the most manipulative ways. It is a short story that made me raise an eyebrow, and often made me smile or shiver slightly. I enjoyed it to the fullest, and recommend you go in blind if you want to read it. I strongly recommend for people who just started reading classic fiction.

Until the next review, please stay safe ♥
~Mary♥

[Lanie · Rating 3 out of 5]

An unhappy man, who believes he knows exactly when and how he will die, tells his story.

When I started this story it bored me. The main character, the narrator, seems lost in self pity. His life has been hard, right from the beginning, it's not his fault, and he's going to have an extended moan about it. He philosophises about life, death and fate, it's terribly depressing.

However, as the story continued I became more caught up in it, more interested in how it would work out.

In the end it was quite satisfying, but the main character remained unremittingly gloomy, passive and fatalistic. He believes that everything bad in his life is preordained. He thinks that nothing can change it so he does not try.

On the whole I felt a combination of tedium, depression, and interest.
Im not sorry that I read it, but I'm glad it was short.

[Angela · Rating 1 out of 5]

What a bizarre novel! Well written but dry and boring. I was not able to engage with the main character or any of the characters at all. The first book I ever read from George Eliot but giving the impression this novella left me, I do not feel like reading further other of her writings. (At least not at the moment)

The good thing though is that the story is quite short.

[Jay · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’ve been meaning to get around to this little book for a while now. It’s definitely worth the hour and a half it takes to be read and is in many ways absolutely nothing like any of the other George Eliot I’ve come across: If her gifts for realism were what she is chiefly celebrated for, it’s no wonder that The Lifted Veil has receded into her back catalogue; however, this book nevertheless exhibits some of her strongest attributes (have I ever mentioned that I think her prose style was bitch-slap incredible?). Even better, the story is surprisingly dark and melodramatic – I mean, who’d have thought it was George Eliot who gave the world the precursor to Dr Manhattan? It’s a punchy little number too!:

Brevity is justified at once to those who readily understand, and to those who will never understand.

The Lifted Veil is a philosophical piece that generally gets lumped together with Victorian horror – Dracula, Jekyll & Hyde, Poe... that sort of thing – but, as a short existentialist character study that avoids any simple interpretation, I’d personally place it more in the company of Melville’s Bartleby, the Scrivener. To me, the first-person narrator’s strange superpower which enables him to see into the consciousnesses of the people in his life, alongside their futures, looks like something of an expression of the burden Eliot herself might have felt, gifted as she was with extraordinary intellect and the special novelist’s ability to see into the minds of her characters. (I’d rank her up with only Tolstoy when it comes to piercing Albus Dumbledore-like powers of legilimentic X-ray vision.) It’s, therefore, perhaps telling that the narrator has such a joyless existence, living a bit like Dr. Manhattan on the railway tracks of determinism – his only pleasure comes from the mystery of the one person whose mind he can’t see into, a mystery which eventually and inevitably proves to be hiding nothing of interest.

Eliot always surprises me: Every now and then I forget how gritty and dark she could be, my mind resetting to its standard image of her as something of a tweedy and gently provincial hand, but then she’ll go and throw out something like The Lifted Veil – a book that nearly wasn’t published at all because it was seen as “disturbed”.

Seven years of wretchedness glide glibly over the lips of the man who has never counted them out in moments of chill disappointment, of head and heart throbbings, of dread and vain wrestling, of remorse and despair. We learn words by rote, but not their meaning; that must be paid for with our life-blood, and printed in the subtle fibres of our nerves.

[María Alcaide · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mi primer Eliot y muy contenta. Me parece que está escepcionalmente escrito y hay algo al final del libro, que no puedo comentar para no hacer spoiler, que me parece la bomba! :) Si no le doy más puntuación a este relato es porque los dos personajes principales, Latimer, el narrador de la historia, y Bertha, me han caído fatal y eso ha hecho que no disfrutara tanto de la lectura. No me ha llamado la atención la historia narrada, no me interesaban los personajes... solo eso que comento al final me ha gustado mucho. Aún así, me deja con muchas ganas de seguir leyendo a la escritora. Quién sabe, igual después me animo con el imponente Middlemarch :)

[Luciana · Rating 2 out of 5]

Muito bom, 1 estrela.

Contando brevemente a vida de Latimer, um jovem de constituição fraca e de beleza feminina que, por reviravolta de um acidente, se vê frente a um posto no qual não tinha como almejar e às consequências que a nova condição trará para sua vida, o (a) escritor (a) narra uma novela que não é tão empolgante; abordando os piores sentimentos humanos e a consequência desses na vida dos personagens o enredo não chega a cativar, sendo ao final um pouco enfadonho, de modo que a mim veio a ser uma leitura que preferia não ter feito; a escrita de Eliot não me agradou.

[Rubi ❃ · Rating 3 out of 5]

¿acaso no contamos nuestras esperanzas y nuestros proyectos incluso a los perros y a los pájaros cuando esos seres nos quieren?

Latimer es el protagonista principal de esta historia, su padre lo considera un niño peculiar y no lo tomaba mucho en cuenta, Latimer tenia un hermano llamado Alfred, era el consentido del padre y su ‘’sucesor’’.
Latimer termino sus estudios en Ginebra y se hizo amigo de Charles Meunier. “Pero nuestro lazo no era de naturaleza intelectual; procedía de una fuente capaz de mezclar sin problemas lo estúpido con lo brillante, lo fantasioso con lo práctico’’.
Luego de una enfermedad que tuvo Latimer en Ginebra comenzaron sus visiones cuando su padre le dijo que irían a Praga. ‘’Una imagen que me pareció como una luz solar de verano desfasada en el tiempo’’ (esa fue su primera visión)
Comenzó a tener otras visiones que fueron ciertas a lo largo del tiempo, además de ver el futuro también sabía los pensamientos de todos excepto de una persona llamada Berta que era la prometida de su hermano Alfred.

Latimer sentía mucha atracción hacía ella, era un misterio no saber lo que ella pensaba “Tan absoluta es la necesidad que siente nuestra alma de algo escondido e incierto para mantener la duda’’. Él sentía celos de su hermano. Su deseo era escuchar que Berta lo quería a él y no a su hermano.
Tuvo nuevamente una visión, Berta sería su esposa pero ella lo odiaría. Y así sucedió se casaron y Latimer comenzó a tener acceso a los pensamientos de Berta, y se dio cuenta que Berta lo quería como esclavo.

Reflexión final:
¿Hasta qué punto es válido aferrarse a algo teniendo el conocimiento de que será malo a futuro? Es lo que le paso a Latimer, sabía lo que iba a pasar en la visión que tuvo y aún con esa información no le importo las consecuencias y nunca se detuvo a pensar un poco en su hermano. Simplemente se dejo llevar por el deseo de que Berta lo quisiera pero todo salió mal.
Me gustó el inicio del libro pero el final no me gustó :(

No me des otra luz, Dios mío,
que la que se transforma en energía fraternal;
ni poderes que desborden la herencia, fruto del esfuerzo,
que perfecciona, día a día, la naturaleza humana. ✨

[Lauren · Rating 3 out of 5]

• THE LIFTED VEIL by George Eliot, 1859.

Gothic dalliance // My first George Eliot - I understand this may be quite different from her others (size alone!) It was an entertaining novella with supernatural hints. Latimer, our narrator, discovers his own ability to see the future & in some cases read the thoughts of others... except the mysterious woman who becomes his wife.

I liked the transgressive thread here, turning the notion of feminine fragility on its head.

Short, a little spooky, and an interesting snapshot of 19th century spiritualism & gender dynamics.

[daph pink ♡ · Rating 2 out of 5]

⭐️⭐️

The Lifted Veil left me scratching my head more than anything else. I kept waiting for the story to click—whether as a gothic tale, a psychological study, or even a strange little horror—but instead it just floated between ideas without giving me much to hold onto. The premise had potential, but the execution felt confusing and distant, like I was always on the outside looking in.

I can see why some readers find it fascinating, but for me, it was more puzzling than powerful. By the end, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to take away—except that this definitely wasn’t my cup of tea.

[Anisha Inkspill · Rating 3 out of 5]

{3.5 stars}

This longish-short is my beginnings of reading works by George Eliot.

This gothic tale is eerie, sad and suspenseful where at times the pacing dragged but overall, an enjoyable read.

Latimer, not lucky, sees Bertha and falls head-over-heels, he is so consumed with love that he doesn’t see what's coming. His experience become ironic as an accident gives him foresight.

The story is about 60 odd pages, and stayed with me and became a bit of a puzzle as some things that happened are not spelled out, leaving more room for interpretation.

So, an interesting start to reading George Eliot, the general response was this is very different from her other works, when I mentioned I was reading this in the groups. Knowing this intrigues me, and I will try and make room to read more works by George Eliot.

[Daren · Rating 2 out of 5]

A short story published as a Penguin 60s Classic.

I didn't find this "A chilling story of clairvoyance and premonition" as promised on the back. I found it a quirkily written, but ultimately rather boring story. It dates from and was set around 1859, and it is just not my cup of tea.

Must say I am finding the Penguin 60s Classics more miss than hit, when compared to the (orange) Penguin 60s, which were more hit than miss. Just reinforces that I am not drawn to the classics.

Still 17 read, 43 to go...

[George K. · Rating 2 out of 5]

Πρώτη επαφή με το έργο της Τζορτζ Έλιοτ, χειρότερη αρχή μάλλον δύσκολα θα μπορούσα να κάνω. Πρόκειται για μια νουβέλα με στοιχεία υπερφυσικού, που παρά το μικρό της μέγεθος με κούρασε αφάνταστα και με έκανε να βαρεθώ από τις πρώτες κιόλας σελίδες. Σε κανένα, μα κανένα σημείο δεν ένιωσα κάτι, πέρα ίσως από βαριεστημάρα και δυσφορία. Γενικά μου αρέσουν οι γοτθικές ιστορίες και η κάπως παλιομοδίτικη γραφή των Βικτωριανών συγγραφέων, όμως εδώ το πρόσημο ήταν σαφώς αρνητικό. Γενικά, δεν έχω να πω και πολλά, απλώς προχωράω παρακάτω. Πάντως στη βιβλιοθήκη μου έχω και το "Σίλας Μάρνερ", οπότε έχω μέλλον με τη συγγραφέα. Και κάτι μου λέει ότι αυτή η νουβέλα ήταν απλώς μια άτυχη στιγμή.

[Petra · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting story, although somewhat lacklustre. The lacklustre element is solely due to the inactivity and lethargy of the narrator. He's so bland as to become unlikeable.
The protagonist comes across as a weak, "go with the flow" kind of character. He laments his life, it's turns, etc.......yet does nothing to try to alter anything at all. Which leads to the question of: Could/Should/Would we change our futures if we knew/thought we knew exactly what our future was? Is the future set? Is it flexible?
Poor Lattimer can hear the thoughts of others. What a noisy world that would be for anyone! What a bunch of nonsense, turmoil, sorrow, anguish would fill one's world & head that one has no influence on or is involved with. It's enough to drive one mad! In such a world, would one take an avenue where one had a tiny moment of reprieve and quiet? ......and, if one did, at what cost?
This is a short story but one that leads to a number of interesting questions. Worth the read, despite the narrator. :D