Different Endings, Similar Themes

[Laura]

Hi there,
As we finish reading "Silas Marner" and watch the movie "A Simple Twist of Fate," here are some questions to consider for our discussion. Warning: there may be spoilers in the questions/answers below!

1) First, considering the novel, how do the characters and situations change between Part 1 and Part 2 of the book? How does Eliot establish the growth of her characters over this jump of sixteen years, and how does the novel further evolve its various themes (as we discussed in our last thread: chance, luck, religion, and regret, etc.)?

2) The movie adaptation "A Simple Twist of Fate" is a modernization of the story and as such has some differences; however, one key change is the point in the plot when the the fate of Dunstan is revealed, serving a very different purpose for the narrative of the movie versus the books. Let's talk about these changes: are they necessary for the adaptation and/or do they fundamentally change the story, especially in regard to the plot and the emphasis of the narrative in each version?

3) As we finish up our conversation on George Eliot's novel, let's dig a little deeper into our discussion of pennames used by writers past and present. What other writers have you read who used pennames? Any additional reflections on our discussion so far?

[Laura]

1) In Part 2 of the book, we see a Silas who has come to a much better place in his community. Because of his care for Eppie, the people of Raveloe are more open to him and willing to see past his strange looks and demeanor. He is, in kind, able to establish deeper relationships with the people of Raveloe, specifically with Dolly and her family. I was moved by the scenes of Silas telling Dolly what happened to him in Lantern Yard, as this openness is key part of his healing from that past betrayal. Another key step is his return to Lantern Yard to seek resolution with the minister about the implications of casting lots to determine his guilt: when he arrives, the chapel is gone. He can never follow up to know what the lots mean or if it was fair; he just has to move forward with the life he has now. I think this is one of Eliot's main points with the book, that chance and luck and such things as we assign meaning to ultimately don't matter as much as the choices we make in our lives. While Silas may understand the gold leaving him and Eppie coming as the will of a higher power, what really changes his situation is how he responds. Similarly, Godfrey Cass comes to realize that his downfall is not in being caught in his falsehoods, which he strove so long to prevent by dint of good fortune, but in hiding the truth for too long and missing the real fortune of his life. He has lost the chance to have meaningful connection with his wife for many years and has lost the chance to be a part of his daughter's life (or any child's). While he believed in Part 1 that he had encountered good luck in his first wife dying and Silas taking the child, his own inaction in response to these events has brought tragedy on his life. In the end of the book, we see a reversal of regret, as Silas is able to let go of the regret of a lot cast that kept him apart from society, and Godfrey must live with the regret of an opportunity lost, and that by his own choice.

2) While "A Simple Twist of Fate" is in many ways a faithful adaptation of "Silas Marner" (barring the changes to bring the story into the present day, the 1990s), I was surprised by the differing ramifications of the discovery of Dunstan's remains. While the book brings in the discovery of his skeleton prior to Godfrey's resolution (and as a motive) to pursue adopting Eppie, the movie uses the discovery of the skeleton (and the money) to settle the matter at the very end of the story. Perhaps in the interest of creating more of a blockbuster storyline, the movie brings in the element of the court case in which the Newlands (the movie's Cass family) try to adopt adolescent Mathilda (Eppie) from single dad Michael McCann (Silas Marner). The judge is all but decided to rule in favor of returning the child to her biological father, in the name of financial security, when the discovery of the lost gold makes his argument unsound. On the other hand, in the book, the Cass family's offer to claim Eppie is emotional only, as the girl has come of age. It would bring a significant change of lifestyle for both her and for her adoptive father, and she chooses her bond with Silas over her claim to wealth/status. While in the movie Michael McCann's gold brings him wealth, in the book Silas' gold really doesn't amount to very much. It's not much more than Dunstan needed to cover the cost of the horse he killed! This is not an insignificant amount but not enough to drastically change Silas and Eppie's positions in life, as in the movie. I like the subtlety of the book in this way: Eppie's loyalty to Silas as a result of her lifetime of love and support from him in fact restores his own previously severed connection to humanity. The movie is more plot-focused in the ending, rather than internally focused; and I understand, because looking internally can be difficult in a medium that requires a Hollywood Ending. Overall, I like the movie as a new take on the story, but I don't think it quite gets at the heart of Eliot's story, which is the importance of choosing human connection more than the mechanisms of fate.

3) I found another article that lists some notable female authors (past and present) who used male pen names for various reasons: https://earlybirdbooks.com/female-aut...
I was surprised to see Louisa May Alcott and the Brontë sisters, given that they were introduced to me sans pen name originally. The Brontës had this to say: "We did not like to declare ourselves women, because—without at that time suspecting that our mode of writing and thinking was not what is called ‘feminine’—we had a vague impression that authoresses are liable to be looked on with prejudice." But I did not know that Alcott's connection to her nom de plume was unknown for decades after her death! It was used primarily for her gothic thriller writing: "The gender-neutral nature of the pseudonym [A.M. Barnard] afforded Alcott the freedom to explore darker subject matter deemed unbecoming of a lady at the time."

Mary Ann Evans/George Eliot wrote about the stigmatized nature of "feminine writing" in her essay "Silly Novels by Lady Novelist," in which she harshly criticizes the popular style of novel written by her female contemporaries, suggesting that many such writers don't care as much about the "sacred art of writing." She also notes that women who display true talent and genius are often torn apart by critics while the light, fluffy feminine novels are given (empty) praise. She says, "By a peculiar thermometric adjustment, when a woman’s talent is at zero, journalistic approbation is at the boiling pitch; when she attains mediocrity, it is already at no more than summer heat; and if ever she reaches excellence, critical enthusiasm drops to the freezing point. Harriet Martineau, Currer Bell [the pen name of Charlotte Brontë], and Mrs. Gaskell have been treated as cavalierly as if they had been men. And every critic who forms a high estimate of the share women may ultimately take in literature, will on principle abstain from any exceptional indulgence toward the productions of literary women." For more on this essay, check out: https://www.literaryladiesguide.com/l...

Another author who stands out to me is George Sand, whose reasons for using a pen name may have been more nuanced than just distancing her writing from the traditionally female writing of the time. George Sand, or Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin, rejected other "feminine" characteristics by adopting a masculine style of dress and by frequenting places which were generally barred to women. Here is more on her life and writing: https://www.literaryladiesguide.com/a... From this essay: In Lélia: The Life of George Sand, André Maurois writes touchingly: “Those who came to see the notorious lady who wore trousers and smoked cigars found instead a passionate and dedicated mind that transcended any of her gaudy poses. For in revolting against the conventions of the world, George Sand felt and suffered very much as a woman.”