The Readers Review: Literature from 1714 to 1910 discussion

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The Mill on the Floss
George Eliot Collection
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Mill on the Floss, The: Week 1 - Book First
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Tulliver's expectations were those of any Victorian father who would look after his son's prospects and not his daughter's. Also, he did not want his son to compete with him and seek to take over the mill, so saw a different profession as preferable to this. In this, he was running counter to the thinking of his age when most fathers expected their eldest sons to inherit their business.

I think Tom's behavior towards animals is a reflection of his own personal view of justice that has been mentioned earlier.
If the animal doesn't follow Tom's expectations--like Yap not chasing the water-rat and, by acting 'un-dog-like', embarassing him in front of Bob--that animal deserves to be punished just like he would punish another person.

Though when they were fishing, he had to reassure Maggie that the worm did not feel any pain when he put it on the hook, but he reflected to himself that in his opinion, it didn't really matter if it did.
There was also a reference to him liking to throw stones at the animals on Pullet's farm when they went to visit there.

Prior to these thoughts about animal welfare, Victorians had taken the biblical standpoint that man had 'dominion' over animals and was therefore superior to them. Tom is reflecting that 'old fashioned' view.
In 1849 the Cruelty to Animals Act imposed forfeiture and penalties for the ill-treatment of animals. This law, became the foundation of future legislation in England and the model for the common law of other countries.

I liked that scene as well. I've been reading ahead so I'm afraid to comment too much because I can't remember if what I'm thinking of is in the first book or the second.
But anyway, I was surprised that it was her 500 pounds to control. I thought generally that woman gave up the rights to their wealth when they married, and their financial property automatically became their husband's property.

Thanks for the information, Madge. I find the intellectual reasonings, philosophies, and societies in the 19th century to be fascinating. People at that time tried to understand issues from all perspectives, and advanced knowledge was highly respected.

Yes I was surprised about that as well. Though it was my impression that her husband is the one that allowed her to have control over the money, so that if he had wanted he could have had all control over it. So her only rights to it were her husbands generosity in allowing her to have those rights.
Liz wrote: "I think I will join you in this read--I'm not sure what happened to the other group I was in, I loved Silas Marner and haven't read Mill on the Floss."
Silas Marner is my favorite of Elliot.
Silas Marner is my favorite of Elliot.

In chapter nine the narrator speaks of Tom's 'desire for mastery over the inferior animals wild and domestic, including cockchafers, neighbours' dogs, and small sisters' so it's interesting he lumps poor Maggie in with the animals. It somehow makes up for his lack of mental alacrity perhaps.
The Brontes were also big on cruelty against animals - particularly in Agnes Grey where the little boy goes nesting.


I can see why a boy like Tom might not be thinking about a future wife (like most boys his age I'm sure his response would be 'girls! Yuk!') and I can even see the younger sister thinking that her adored older brother is the only man she would need.
What surprised me was that Mr. Tulliver would also imply that Maggie would remain a spinster. Was he thinking that no man out there would be good enough for 'his little wench'? Or was he thinking that because he was allowing her to be a bit wilder/freer than most people approved, he was making her a poor match for any potential husband?
The other part of it that struck me is that Mr. Tulliver took the time to warn Mrs. Moss not to let her daughters kling to their brothers as they get older, but to look for good matches.
It almost feels backwards to me--shouldn't he be more concerned with Maggie's future and how she will make it in the world?

That is what I had been trying to say from the start. That it just did not seem like a good plan to me that Mr. Tulliver is going on the assumption that Maggie will be solely dependent upon her brother. For he himself ought to know well enough that odds are Tom will eventually marry, and that might make things difficult for Maggie.
I think perhaps his presumption the Maggie will remain a spinster might in part have to do with he himself not wanting to let her go. He does not want to think about her being married off because he wants to keep her with him. And perhaps like many fathers he does not want to really think about the idea of his little daughter being grown up. I think he does have this idea of her simply staying with him to the end of his own days.
The advice in which he does give to Mrs. Moss certainly does seem to be ironic, and hypocritical, but than I think it is often the case that the faults one sees in others they are often blind to in themselves or they convince themselves that their own situations are different. Or perhaps he recognizes that his treatment towards Maggie is a mistake, and yet he cannot bring himself to correct it in himself, but wants to warn his sister not to make the same mistake he has made with his own child.

.."
But even if her father was not in a position to try and prepare her to be a good wife as it were, he does encourage within her behavior which he himself admits is likely to be harmful to her in the future.
It may not be his place to teach her exepcted domestic duties, but when she does misbehave or act as a way not considered proper for a girl, he pets her for it and endearingly calls her his "little wench" and laughs about it.
And while supporting and loving his daughter, and accepting he for how she is, might seem to be an endearing trait in her father, considering the time in which they live in, it can set her up for a downfall in the future and leave her in a very uncertain and perilous position.

I agree. Think of it as someone today who has severe depression or Schizophrenia. Back then she could have been admitted to an asylum, but what loving family would do that? As an adult she would live with her parents until their demise and then the responsibility for her care would go to the oldest son.

Keeping a girl at home was quite a common thing for parents to do in Victorian times - they were in lieu of a 'pension'. Who else would look after them in their old age. Mr Tulliver didn't want Tom to oust him from the Mill before he was ready but he and Mrs Tulliver know that they cannot rely on a son, or a son's wife, for tender care in their old age.

While I agree with you that Maggie is by no stretch mentally ill nor do I think there are any grounds upon which one would consider putting her in an asylum I would like to point out that intelligence is not necessarily proof of sanity/mental stablity.


As others have said, she is a tomboy, she is independent, and that does upset the social order of the day. Unruly and ungovernable, yes; mentally ill, no.
Personally, I don't think she is unruly or ungovernable. She's just a spirited young girl, not much different than millions of other young girls throughout the ages.
There are numerous examples of spirited young ladies in literature from the 18th and 19th century. Maggie is one of many.
I like Maggie. She's very sensitive and wears her emotions on her sleeve, and willing to put her heart out there.
As for why her father isn't pushing marriage on her, is one, she's very (very!) young at this point in the novel. And two, as Madge and BunWat wrote, this isn't unprecedented. It is the wife's not father's role to get young ladies ready for future life/marriage (which Mrs. Tulliver tries to do unsuccessfully) and many women at that time didn't get married and stayed at home.


In fact many of the things which she does, she does hoping they will win her affection by others, but unfortunately the outcome usually has the adverse affect. As in the example with cutting her hair. She was wounded by comments about her hair made by her aunts, and the fact that she did not look the way it was thought she ought, and so she cuts her own hair with the hopes of earning thier approval.
So it is often her rash efforts to try and appease others which ultimately makes her so unlike everyone else.
I read this book a long time ago, and have been lurking because I always learn so much from the discussions. I do have a question. Do you think Maggie represents Elliot? Do you find the character and the author to be similar?

Certainly Eliot had very unruly dark hair, as can be seen from her portraits. And she did have problems with her brother in later life after he broke off their relationship when she went to live with Lewes.
http://www.earlywomenmasters.net/art/...
From Wikipedia: 'The young Evans was obviously intelligent and a voracious reader. Because she was not considered physically beautiful, and thus not thought to have much chance of marriage, and because of her intelligence, her father invested in an education not often afforded women.'
BunWat wrote: "I think Maggie has a lot in common with George Elliot, but I'm not sure she represents the author. Or maybe its more fair to say that she does, but she does more than that as well. The story isn'..."
I didn't think it was autobiographical but Maggie does remind me of Elliot. Love your response.
I didn't think it was autobiographical but Maggie does remind me of Elliot. Love your response.

I had read somewhere that this book is considered to be autobiographical. Though I am not certain if it was written with that intent or just came to be considered so later.

In Maggie's case it seems to me its going to be a particularly hard road for her - because her family and her society so determinedly want her to be something very much other than what she is.
This was so for Eliot and a great many other women of this period so Eliot is probably writing about The Woman Question:-
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_woma...
(You are a lovely lurker Deborah:))


That is interesting, I had not noticed it. It may be a sign of the children being granted a better education than their parents received.

It's also asking a lot of the reader to try and decipher pages of dialect - perhaps Eliot considered this too.

Silver, you make a great point.
But for her age, I think she has an independent streak. It might not be consistent, but it is there. She loves Tom, as many younger children look up to their older siblings. (As the youngest in my family, I consider myself to be independent, but that didn't stop me from shadowing my older brother every minute when we were younger.)
But at the same time, she ran away from home, she cut her hair, etc. Maybe we might call it impulsive behavior rather than independence? But either way, she marches to the beat of her own drums.

Interesting point. I also didn't notice it.
My first reaction is that they have a wider field of acquaintances than their parents. They are off at school where they go beyond their parent's circle. (Much like children of immigrants here in the U.S. who speak English fluently after being at school for only a short time, while their parents are still struggling with the language).

In other words, Mr Glegg actually has legal control of Mrs Glegg's money, but he 'allows' her to decide what to do with it. Probably because she would nag him to death and play the martyr card at every possible opportunity if he didn't. More than one way to skin a cat. "
True.
Which also is an amusing example (or sad, whichever way you want to look at it) of how people who aren't treated equally in society need to get that equality. The party being treated in an inferior manner has to "nag" and fight their way into a position of equality, and the party who has the power has to give away some of that power in order to achieve equality.
I looked up this work in the Bloomsbury guide to women's literature just to see. Too many spoilers to put it all here, but the gist was this. Maggie is forced to internalize all her intellectual and spiritual energies. Many women have identified with eliots semi-autobiographical portrayal of Maggie. Simone de Beauvoir once wrote that this novel seemed to translate her spiritual exile into words.
Now I have to stop lurking because I need to complete my readings which are not yet started. And I thought lurking on this one would help me keep on track.
Now I have to stop lurking because I need to complete my readings which are not yet started. And I thought lurking on this one would help me keep on track.

She is definitely impulsive, but it just seems to me that a lot of her behavior which makes her appear to be independent, she herself is doing not for the sake of being different, or because she wants to be different, but in fact because she is attempting to conform to the expectations of others. Unfortunately her efforts just always have the exact opposite effect.
I think she really does want to be a Lucy, she just does not know how, in addition to the fact she cannot control certain aspects of her physical appearance which are scorned by others. She has a great admiration for Lucy. She does not look down upon Lucy for being so "perfect" and conventional, and I think this reflects her own inner desires.

Disagree. (Sorrrrry.) I don't think she wants to be like Lucy at all. She wants to be herself and doesn't know how without upsetting everyone. Maggie has dreams for herself.


Eliot seems to be setting Tom up as a typical, spoilt, Victorian male. She had problems with her own brother, so perhaps ..."
I tell you, I'm so over Tom I just want to give him a good walloping.

A very Victorian response!! :)

http://www.ancestryaid.co.uk/boards/f...
Victorian children like Maggie and Tom would have been expected to help with various chores around the house and the Mill but I find that children today are rarely expected to help their parents and instead lead a very carefree life. This was a period when children were working down mines and in factories. In the countryside they were employed as bird scarers and to pick up stones as well as generally helping with the harvest.

I have to agree with you there. Hitting, pushing, throwing things hardly seems like unusual behavior for children.
And what you say about children not being expected to have as many responsibilities now as in former times reminds me of when my parents were babysitting my nieces (Though they are younger than Maggie and Tom) my mom called them lazy because she went out into the backyard to pick some weeds, thinking they would help her, and she was talking about how when she went to her grandma's house she was put to work, but my nieces just wanted to plop themselves down and than make demands to be waited upon. Constantly "Would you get me that" "I want this"
Not only different expectations, but kids today are inundated with stuff - school, sports, Internet, etc. Victorian kids had some school work at home typically or little or none if poor. Kids now learn to read usually before going to school. I remember when sports (speaking only for the U.S. now) were seasonal. Now the one sport is year round. When I was a child (geez I sound old), there were a few after school activities. Now kids are overscheduled and have little time to play.
I'm a firm believer in each person needs to have responsibilities and chores at home as well as clear expectations. I'm also a believer in boundaries and consequences for poor decisions for kids. Our kids handle a lot more "stuff" on a day to day basis than Victorian kids. I know I heard once at a seminar that we (and this was quite a while ago) are inundated with more information in one hour, than they had to deal with in their whole lifetime.
I'm a firm believer in each person needs to have responsibilities and chores at home as well as clear expectations. I'm also a believer in boundaries and consequences for poor decisions for kids. Our kids handle a lot more "stuff" on a day to day basis than Victorian kids. I know I heard once at a seminar that we (and this was quite a while ago) are inundated with more information in one hour, than they had to deal with in their whole lifetime.

While I found Maggie's utter neglect of the rabbits to strike me as being somewhat abnormal behavior, but Maggie pushing Lucy in the mud seemed fairly mild and not at all shocking or like something a child of today would never do.
Children still do get into physical alterations with each other, it is not as if children of today no longer fight with each other, or that siblings no longer push and hit one another. My nieces can get quite violent which each other, of course they get in trouble for it when they get caught, but that doesn't stop them from doing it next time they get upset with one another.

Here is a wonderful passage where Elliot describes the pain and anguish of childhood:
"Very trivial, perhaps, this anguish seems to weather-worn mortals who have to think of Christmas bills, dead loves, and broken friendships; but it was not less bitter to Maggie -- perhaps it was even more bitter -- than what we are fond of calling antithetically the real troubles of mature life... We have all of us sobbed so piteously, standing with tiny bare legs above our little socks, when we lost sight of our mother or nurse in some strange place; but we can no longer recall the poignancy of that moment and weep over it, as we do over the remembered sufferings of five or ten years ago. Every one of those keen moments has left its trace, and lives in us still, but such traces have blent themselves irrecoverably with the firmer texture of your youth and manhood; and so it comes that we can look on the troubles of our children with a smiling disbelief in the reality of their pain... Surely if we could recall that early bitterness, and the dim guesses, the strangely perspectiveless conception of life, that gave the bitterness its intensity, we should not pooh-pooh the griefs of our children."
It seems obvious in this passage, and in her depictions of Maggie, that Elliot actually recalls these moments clearly and acutely. The way Maggie behaves feels very familiar to me, too, growing up as a little girl who wanted only to share childish joys and discoveries, and yet instead seeming always to do the wrong thing at the wrong time. I too think that we forget these imprints with the loss of the naturelness ("perspectiveless") of childhood, as we become adults and create the structures of our lives.
As for Maggie living with Tom and keeping house for him -- I think Maggie's spinsterhood might have already been silently accepted or agreed upon by her parents because by all possible standards of the time, Maggie just isn't marriageable material. Since Maggie is already 9 years old, and since girls were married or arranged at very early ages, I think the whole point had already been decided, however mutely.
But I did read part of this critical essay that I thought you all might be interested in: Susan Fraiman, "The Mill on the Floss, the Critics, and the Bildungsroman," Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, January 1993.
Fraiman looks at another critic - Nina Auerbach - in 1975 who explores Maggie's character, and talks about the "demonism" in Maggie: "Auerbach cataloged not Maggie's weaknesses but her power to terrorize: kills rabbits ... mutilates dolls..." (137). (Some of her examples would be spoilers so I took them out). Fraiman also talks about how Auerbach's assertions "oddly" construct Maggie as somehow "evil" and give a type of Gothic interpretation to the novel (138).
Fraiman says that beginning in the late 70s into the 80s, feminists began to look at Maggie's character in a different way. Fraiman herself says that Maggie "is dominated at every turn" (138).