In the context of postrevolutionary England’s sluggish attempts at political reform, George Eliot details in
Middlemarch:
A Study of Provincial Life the range of a tradition-bound provincial mentality unable to comprehend and unwilling to accept change. She begins by uniting two narratives begun separately, both about self-deluded idealists, Dorothea Brooke of the landed gentry and Tertius Lydgate, newly arrived in insular Middlemarch, the quintessential country town of petty snobberies, power plays for
social status, and gossipmongering. Integrating additional plots, Eliot embodies her theme: a narrow medium of ignorance, prejudice, and bigotry limits individual opportunity and growth; persons with "great souls," such as Dorothea, Will, Garth, and Farebrother, may transcend that medium to contribute to social improvement and partially realize their own potential. Noble motives may be frustrated, however, by those trapped in self-interest, such as Casaubon and Rosamond, or thwarted by provincial minds unequipped by knowledge or training to evaluate new ideas and approving only of those who "do as their neighbors do," or limited by the dead hand of the past—outmoded customs and laws, especially those governing
property inheritance.
Eliot’s portrayal of marriage issues treats what the nineteenth century called "the Woman Question"—controversies about the "nature of women," their proper education, whether young ladies should have opinions (as Dorothea does) or submit to men’s (as Celia does), whether married women should be allowed to own property, and whether any women should be allowed to vote or work for economic independence instead of being kept in their domestic "separate sphere." Allowing domestic contentment to the conventional Celia and, later, the creatively realistic Mary, Eliot invalidates generalizations: In Laure and Rosamond, she boldly combats Coventry Patmore’s popular "Angel in the House" stereotype, but she evokes sympathy for the angelic, if aspiring, Dorothea, who is suffering moral asphyxia in her marriage. Dorothea’s short-sightedness in marrying Casaubon indicts Victorian avoidance of psychosexual realities, as Lydgate’s "commonness" does the sentimentalizing of women. Both failed marriages demonstrate the need for reform in education concerning psychological and sexual dynamics. By contrast, marriage based on personal emotions and shared values rather than social considerations or stereotyping proves authentic in the scenes between Mary and Fred and in the sympathetic energies that grow between Dorothea and Will.
The story develops in part as the inhabitants of
Middlemarch express opinions about one another, revealing their biases and lack of insight into desires guiding others. Plots develop simultaneously among characters of various social levels, producing an organic novel, one of Eliot’s major achievements. Diverse speakers are vividly realized, as are major characters’ inward selves, developing through struggles with their delusions and their neighbors’ criticisms. Dorothea stifles her ardor to help her husband, Casaubon, when he fears she will discover that his work is trivial and his scholarly pose fraudulent, and he can express only chilling condescension toward her. When Will observes Dorothea, emotionally abandoned on her honeymoon in Rome, his comments on her animating spirit reveal his evaluating mind to be superior both to those of a community that deems her idealism queer and to that of Lydgate, who has found her earnestness a trial. Will’s admiration grows as Dorothea’s emotional starvation intensifies, until she is freed when Casaubon dies. Casaubon’s petty insecurities and jealousies have resulted in a codicil to his will, however, slandering Dorothea and Will by cutting off her inheritance if they marry.
Meanwhile, Lydgate compromises his independence, and therefore his ideals, by accepting Bulstrode’s support at the hospital, alienating established practitioners by entertaining new ideas, and going into debt to marry the prodigal Rosamond. Attending the ailing Casaubon, Lydgate comes to appreciate Dorothea’s noble soul. Bulstrode, who rationalizes appropriating others’ wealth as God’s will and his desire for power as using wealth to the glory of God, is exposed by John Raffles, who knew Bulstrode before he moved to Middlemarch. Blackmailing Bulstrode, Raffles babbles drunkenly of the rich pawnbroker’s widow Bulstrode married; Bulstrode concealed from her the whereabouts of her daughter and her grandson, Ladislaw, and he appropriated their inheritance when she died. Raffles dies on Bulstrode’s property of alcohol poisoning, having been given brandy against Lydgate’s orders, and, as his story spreads, Bulstrode and Lydgate are suspect to the community. Believing Lydgate innocent and visiting him to help him professionally, Dorothea infers mistakenly that Will, visiting Rosamond, is illicitly involved with her. Will’s mettle shows in an emotional outburst aimed at the vain Rosamond, and when Dorothea returns to inspire Rosamond to marital fidelity, the shamed Rosamond reveals to her that it is she, not Rosamond, whom Will loves.
Humiliated, Bulstrode offers an estate management position to his nephew, Fred Vincy, enabling him and Mary Garth, with her father’s help, to marry. Lydgate renounces his dreams and moves with Rosamond to London, where his flourishing practice supports her, but he dies young. Dorothea renounces her wealth, and marries Will, who pursues political reform in London, and they live joyously despite Middlemarch’s disapproval.