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Available
Call number
Genres
Collection
Publication
Penguin Classics (1967), Paperback, 912 pages
Description
Deronda, a high-minded young man searching for his path in life, finds himself drawn by a series of dramatic encounters into two contrasting worlds: the English country-house life of Gwendolen Harleth, a high-spirited beauty trapped in an oppressive marriage, and the very different lives of a poor Jewish girl, Mirah, and her family. As Deronda uncovers the long-hidden secret of his own parentage, Eliot's moving and suspenseful narrative opens up a world of Jewish experience previously unknown to the Victorian novel.
User reviews
LibraryThing member ChocolateMuse
As I found in Middlemarch, the beauty of George Eliot's best characters lies partly in how deep and complicated and real they are as people, and partly in the way they show us a new way of seeing ourselves. Eliot had a genius for tapping into parts of ourselves which we don't think about, or
So there's Gwendolen: self absorbed, beautiful, accustomed to rule. There is Mirah: a beautiful young 'Jewess', innocent, full of naive zeal and Dickensian virtue. Then there's Mordecai, a Jewish zealot with an almost mystical air of prophecy and destiny. Among them all, along with other more minor characters, Daniel Deronda lives, with each separate character forming a separate thread in his life, and showing us a different aspect of Deronda himself, and also of the better parts of ourselves. Deronda is almost too 'good', too virtuous. He borders on being Dickensian as Mirah does, but is redeemed by a complexity of thought, a conscious striving for better things, and something else beyond explanation, but which I think lies in the fact that he's three dimensional and not a flat moral character at all.
This book is at heart a moral tale, and also a novel with a mission - but because this is George Eliot, we don't feel preached at. She's too complex, too analytical, too aware of the paradoxes of being human, to write something preachy. With Eliot, the moral becomes beautiful, and the mission noble.
I have a personal love of the way Eliot weaves music into this book. There's a character called Herr Klesmer, whom Eliot apparently based on Liszt and Anton Rubinstein. His music, and the music of others, drifts in and out of the story almost like a film score. It's dramatic and beautiful. Klesmer himself is a character we admire and criticise equally - dramatic, well aware of his own genius, kind-hearted, lofty-minded. I brightened up every time he appeared on the scene, and my only minor complaint with the whole long novel is that Klesmer peters out a bit at around the middle of the novel, and only makes token appearances from there on. But as far as the story goes, this makes perfect sense, so I can't complain really!
Throughout most of this book, I had no idea how it would end, which is, I think, unusual. It added to my enjoyment of the book, so I will avoid spoilers in this review. I will only say that I thought the way it all ended was quite refreshing in its focus and values, and realistic despite some use of the Victorian coincidence.
It's not quite Middlemarch, but then, neither is anything else. Daniel Deronda is a novel I'll read again, and with great pleasure.
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perhaps don't want to face, and showing them to us, there on the page. We see this same genius in Daniel Deronda. Gwendolen, for example, is a beautifully complex character, portrayed with depth, subtlety and sympathy. I am not at all like her in any of the obvious things, yet Eliot still showed me myself in her. Underneath the outer things there is a universal something that's in us all, and Eliot shows different aspects of that to us in many of her characters. So there's Gwendolen: self absorbed, beautiful, accustomed to rule. There is Mirah: a beautiful young 'Jewess', innocent, full of naive zeal and Dickensian virtue. Then there's Mordecai, a Jewish zealot with an almost mystical air of prophecy and destiny. Among them all, along with other more minor characters, Daniel Deronda lives, with each separate character forming a separate thread in his life, and showing us a different aspect of Deronda himself, and also of the better parts of ourselves. Deronda is almost too 'good', too virtuous. He borders on being Dickensian as Mirah does, but is redeemed by a complexity of thought, a conscious striving for better things, and something else beyond explanation, but which I think lies in the fact that he's three dimensional and not a flat moral character at all.
This book is at heart a moral tale, and also a novel with a mission - but because this is George Eliot, we don't feel preached at. She's too complex, too analytical, too aware of the paradoxes of being human, to write something preachy. With Eliot, the moral becomes beautiful, and the mission noble.
I have a personal love of the way Eliot weaves music into this book. There's a character called Herr Klesmer, whom Eliot apparently based on Liszt and Anton Rubinstein. His music, and the music of others, drifts in and out of the story almost like a film score. It's dramatic and beautiful. Klesmer himself is a character we admire and criticise equally - dramatic, well aware of his own genius, kind-hearted, lofty-minded. I brightened up every time he appeared on the scene, and my only minor complaint with the whole long novel is that Klesmer peters out a bit at around the middle of the novel, and only makes token appearances from there on. But as far as the story goes, this makes perfect sense, so I can't complain really!
Throughout most of this book, I had no idea how it would end, which is, I think, unusual. It added to my enjoyment of the book, so I will avoid spoilers in this review. I will only say that I thought the way it all ended was quite refreshing in its focus and values, and realistic despite some use of the Victorian coincidence.
It's not quite Middlemarch, but then, neither is anything else. Daniel Deronda is a novel I'll read again, and with great pleasure.
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LibraryThing member vrchristensen
Daniel Deronda is perhaps my favourite book of all time. When I first read it, I wasn't sure what I thought of it. Elliot weaves the tale, as she designed to do, so that the reader is not quite certain of his loyalties. We root for Daniel, of course, but which of the women in his life do we wish
Eliot, having written the book as a contemporary to the Zionist movement, was perhaps a visionary in her approach to its causes and in her method if introducing them to the reading public. The work was highly influential to many, and to society at large regarding their view of their Jewish neighbours. More than that, though, it challenged society's views of Christianity, of what it means to be a gentleman and where one's loyalties ought, after all, to lie. Daniel's benefactor, the man, indeed, who raised him, was a good man, but he failed Daniel in many respects. To satiate his need for a home and family ties with whom he could truly identify, Daniel had to make these himself, breaking off from the tradition that had been set before him. "So you do not want to be an English gentleman to the backbone," Sir Hugo says to him. Yes, of course Daniel does, but must he do it and be a Christian without Christian feeling? Be a father without fatherly affection? Be a husband who is a stranger to his wife?
Daniel Deronda is and was a Trojan horse of conscientious thought. It reads as a book written for the well bred and socially minded of the upper classes. It is, in fact, a challenge to think beyond what one thinks they believe, to ask the uncomfortable question, "Am I living the best life that is in me?" Daniel's mother asked the question and answered it selfishly. Sir Hugo asked the question and lived his life according to duty and tradition. Grandcourt asked the question and left behind him a mess of misuse, bastardry and subjugation. Daniel asked the question and chose a life that would benefit all around him. Daniel Deronda is an astounding accomplishment and I find it a constant source of inspiration, both in my life, and in my work.
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for him to choose? In the end, of course, he chooses the more deserving of the two. And yet, do we not find ourselves rooting for that which society, in that day and age, would have chosen for him? Are we disappointed, or are we not? It all depends on with whom we identify, and sometimes that question cannot be honestly answered until we've stepped away from it far enough to see the big picture. And it is a very big picture.Eliot, having written the book as a contemporary to the Zionist movement, was perhaps a visionary in her approach to its causes and in her method if introducing them to the reading public. The work was highly influential to many, and to society at large regarding their view of their Jewish neighbours. More than that, though, it challenged society's views of Christianity, of what it means to be a gentleman and where one's loyalties ought, after all, to lie. Daniel's benefactor, the man, indeed, who raised him, was a good man, but he failed Daniel in many respects. To satiate his need for a home and family ties with whom he could truly identify, Daniel had to make these himself, breaking off from the tradition that had been set before him. "So you do not want to be an English gentleman to the backbone," Sir Hugo says to him. Yes, of course Daniel does, but must he do it and be a Christian without Christian feeling? Be a father without fatherly affection? Be a husband who is a stranger to his wife?
Daniel Deronda is and was a Trojan horse of conscientious thought. It reads as a book written for the well bred and socially minded of the upper classes. It is, in fact, a challenge to think beyond what one thinks they believe, to ask the uncomfortable question, "Am I living the best life that is in me?" Daniel's mother asked the question and answered it selfishly. Sir Hugo asked the question and lived his life according to duty and tradition. Grandcourt asked the question and left behind him a mess of misuse, bastardry and subjugation. Daniel asked the question and chose a life that would benefit all around him. Daniel Deronda is an astounding accomplishment and I find it a constant source of inspiration, both in my life, and in my work.
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LibraryThing member gbill
There are few times when I find myself completely agreeing with critics of the books I read, but in the case of "Daniel Deronda" (1876) I found the observation from F.R. Leavis that the book ought to have been split in half and the good part be published separately under the title "Gwendolen
There are some who will recoil at occasional overt anti-semitic statements; I cut Eliot some slack because (1) as with other authors we must remember the time in which she wrote, (2) the overall message about the profundity of the Jewish faith embodied in its spiritual characters is quite positive, and (3) Eliot was about 20 years ahead of her time in suggesting that a separate Israeli state be created (Herzl's "The Jewish State" was published in 1896), though she was a bit naive ("there will be a land set for a halting-place of enmities, a neutral ground..." Ha!). It's also clear from a letter she wrote to Harriet Beecher Stowe that her intentions were 100% good.
The character of Gwendolen is memorable, as is her marriage to the reptilian Grandcourt, who slowly but surely squeezes the life out of her like a boa constrictor. If the book could have been 200-300 pages shorter such that the Deronda portions were present but streamlined and a subplot, it would have been far better.
Quotes:
On marriage:
"...to become a wife and wear all the domestic fetters of that condition, was on the whole a vexatious necessity. Her observation of matrimony had inclined her to think it rather a dreary state, in which a woman could not do what she liked, had more children than were desirable, was consequently dull, and became irrevocably immersed in humdrum. Of course marriage was social promotion; she could not look forward to a single life; but promotions have sometimes to be taken with bitter herbs..."
"Perhaps other men's lives were of the same kind - full of secrets which made the ignorant suppositions of the women they wanted to marry a farce at which they were laughing in their sleeves."
Further, on women's position in the world:
"We women can't go in search of adventures - to find out the North-West passage or the source of the Nile, or to hunt tigers in the East. We must stay where we grow, or where the gardeners like to transplant us. We are brought up like flowers, to look as pretty as we can, and be dull without complaining. That is my notion about the plants: they are often bored, and that is the reason why some of them have got poisonous."
"You are not a woman. You can try - but you can never imagine what it is to have a man's force of genius in you, and yet to suffer the slavery of being a girl. To have a pattern cut out - 'this is the Jewish woman; this is what you must be; this is what you are wanted for; a woman's heart must be of such a size and no larger, else it must be pressed small, like Chinese feet; her happiness is to be made as cakes are, by a fixed receipt.' That was what my father wanted."
On the goodness that exists potentially in all of us:
"...if only these two beautiful young creatures could have pledged themselves to each other then and there, and never through life have swerved from that pledge! For some of the goodness which Rex believed in was there. Goodness is a large, often prospective word; like harvest, which at one stage when we talk of it lies all underground, with an indeterminate future: is the germ prospering in the darkness? at another, it has put forth delicate green blades, and by-and-by the trembling blossoms are ready to be dashed off by an hour of rough wind or rain. Each stage has its own particular blight, and may have the healthy life choked out of it by a particular action of the foul land which rears or neighbours it, or by damage brought from foulness afar."
On knowing another person:
"Attempts at description are stupid: who can all at once describe a human being? even when he is presented to us we only begin that knowledge of his appearance which must be completed by innumerable impressions under different circumstances."
On ignorance:
"Knowledge slowly builds up what Ignorance in an hour pulls down. Knowledge, through patient and frugal centuries, enlarges discovery and makes record of it; Ignorance, wanting its day's dinner, lights a fire with the record, and gives a flavour to its one roast with the burnt souls of many generations."
On delusion:
"Parents are astonished at the ignorance of their sons, though they have used the most time-honoured and expensive means of securing it; husbands and wives are mutually astonished at the loss of affection which they have taken no pains to keep; and all of us in our turn are apt to be astonished that our neighbours do not admire us."
On socialism:
"There are enough inevitable turns of fortune which force us to see that our gain is another's loss: - that is one of the ugly aspects of life. One would like to reduce it as much as one could, not get amusement out of exaggerating it."
On memories of home:
"To most men their early home is no more than a memory of their early years, and I'm not sure but they have the best of it. The image is never marred. There's no disappointment in memory, and one's exaggerations are always on the good side."
On zionism:
"The idea that I am possessed with is that of restoring a political existence to my people, making them a nation again, giving them a national centre, such as the English have, though they too are scattered over the face of the globe."
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Harleth" dead-on. For "Daniel Deronda" has two main story lines which are only loosely coupled, and while the one featuring haughty and spiritually bereft Gwendolen Harleth sizzles from the first page ("Was she beautiful or not beautiful?"), the other, featuring the Jewish characters Mirah, Mordecai, and Daniel drag the book down. Comparing the book to her masterpiece "Middlemarch" may be unfair, but what's missing is its breadth of characters and life; in the Deronda portions of the book in particular Eliot is too heavy-handed and often falls into over-analysis. There are some who will recoil at occasional overt anti-semitic statements; I cut Eliot some slack because (1) as with other authors we must remember the time in which she wrote, (2) the overall message about the profundity of the Jewish faith embodied in its spiritual characters is quite positive, and (3) Eliot was about 20 years ahead of her time in suggesting that a separate Israeli state be created (Herzl's "The Jewish State" was published in 1896), though she was a bit naive ("there will be a land set for a halting-place of enmities, a neutral ground..." Ha!). It's also clear from a letter she wrote to Harriet Beecher Stowe that her intentions were 100% good.
The character of Gwendolen is memorable, as is her marriage to the reptilian Grandcourt, who slowly but surely squeezes the life out of her like a boa constrictor. If the book could have been 200-300 pages shorter such that the Deronda portions were present but streamlined and a subplot, it would have been far better.
Quotes:
On marriage:
"...to become a wife and wear all the domestic fetters of that condition, was on the whole a vexatious necessity. Her observation of matrimony had inclined her to think it rather a dreary state, in which a woman could not do what she liked, had more children than were desirable, was consequently dull, and became irrevocably immersed in humdrum. Of course marriage was social promotion; she could not look forward to a single life; but promotions have sometimes to be taken with bitter herbs..."
"Perhaps other men's lives were of the same kind - full of secrets which made the ignorant suppositions of the women they wanted to marry a farce at which they were laughing in their sleeves."
Further, on women's position in the world:
"We women can't go in search of adventures - to find out the North-West passage or the source of the Nile, or to hunt tigers in the East. We must stay where we grow, or where the gardeners like to transplant us. We are brought up like flowers, to look as pretty as we can, and be dull without complaining. That is my notion about the plants: they are often bored, and that is the reason why some of them have got poisonous."
"You are not a woman. You can try - but you can never imagine what it is to have a man's force of genius in you, and yet to suffer the slavery of being a girl. To have a pattern cut out - 'this is the Jewish woman; this is what you must be; this is what you are wanted for; a woman's heart must be of such a size and no larger, else it must be pressed small, like Chinese feet; her happiness is to be made as cakes are, by a fixed receipt.' That was what my father wanted."
On the goodness that exists potentially in all of us:
"...if only these two beautiful young creatures could have pledged themselves to each other then and there, and never through life have swerved from that pledge! For some of the goodness which Rex believed in was there. Goodness is a large, often prospective word; like harvest, which at one stage when we talk of it lies all underground, with an indeterminate future: is the germ prospering in the darkness? at another, it has put forth delicate green blades, and by-and-by the trembling blossoms are ready to be dashed off by an hour of rough wind or rain. Each stage has its own particular blight, and may have the healthy life choked out of it by a particular action of the foul land which rears or neighbours it, or by damage brought from foulness afar."
On knowing another person:
"Attempts at description are stupid: who can all at once describe a human being? even when he is presented to us we only begin that knowledge of his appearance which must be completed by innumerable impressions under different circumstances."
On ignorance:
"Knowledge slowly builds up what Ignorance in an hour pulls down. Knowledge, through patient and frugal centuries, enlarges discovery and makes record of it; Ignorance, wanting its day's dinner, lights a fire with the record, and gives a flavour to its one roast with the burnt souls of many generations."
On delusion:
"Parents are astonished at the ignorance of their sons, though they have used the most time-honoured and expensive means of securing it; husbands and wives are mutually astonished at the loss of affection which they have taken no pains to keep; and all of us in our turn are apt to be astonished that our neighbours do not admire us."
On socialism:
"There are enough inevitable turns of fortune which force us to see that our gain is another's loss: - that is one of the ugly aspects of life. One would like to reduce it as much as one could, not get amusement out of exaggerating it."
On memories of home:
"To most men their early home is no more than a memory of their early years, and I'm not sure but they have the best of it. The image is never marred. There's no disappointment in memory, and one's exaggerations are always on the good side."
On zionism:
"The idea that I am possessed with is that of restoring a political existence to my people, making them a nation again, giving them a national centre, such as the English have, though they too are scattered over the face of the globe."
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LibraryThing member kingpellinor
Finally abaondoned this book, after speed-reading the central third of the book. All the 1850s Zionist stuff is a bit too remote for me, but I can see that it was unusual in it's time. What's more problematic is that most of the writing about Mordecai and Deronda is fairly dull exposition,
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explaining rather than dramatising. There's a dearth of interesting scenes, dialogue, contrasts or even events: just an endless slog through principles. The Gwendolen Harleth material is much more entertaining, and for a good while reads like a deliberate attempt to cross Jane Austen with Wilkie Collins. For a while wasn't quite sure whether GE was deliberately mocking JA, but as the worthiness of the whole project began to take over, came to the conclusion that no she wasn't. Not recommended, even to fans of GE. Stick to Mill on the Floss and Middlemarch. Show Less
LibraryThing member keristars
This is one of those works of classic British literature that is apparently absolutely fantastic and a must read for everyone (especially English majors), but which is extremely difficult and at times mind-numbingly boring.
I like George Eliot, I really do. I think she was a great writer, and the
Daniel Deronda is marginally more entertaining than Mill on the Floss, and definitely more enjoyable than David Copperfield, but it's really really long and Victorian, and, well, I'd rather see a film version than read it.
I like George Eliot, I really do. I think she was a great writer, and the
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themes and techniques she uses in her novels are pretty cool and make for some fun discussions (that is, if you're the kind of person who gets into conversations about, as one example, the rise of the middle class/democracy in the nineteenth century as shown in really long novels). But I don't like reading her books. Daniel Deronda didn't keep my attention, and I felt like I had to force myself through the middle section, and I never did read the entire thing, though I skipped to the end and I have a good idea of how the story goes. Maybe one day, I'll go back to the novel and try it again, but that probably won't be until I've read absolutely everything else on my shelves, I'm sure.Daniel Deronda is marginally more entertaining than Mill on the Floss, and definitely more enjoyable than David Copperfield, but it's really really long and Victorian, and, well, I'd rather see a film version than read it.
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LibraryThing member gianne.b
The richness of Eliot's approach to presenting a story is her dedication to presenting the thinking of the characters, and telling much of their early lives, the "backstory" of the action that is being presented. To a modern reader, this can seem excessive. If you have patience for it, the nuance
Daniel Deronda begins much like a Jane Austen novel of manners, but has much darker moments than Austen's books usually have. Such elements are more reminicent of Dickens or one of the Brontes.
I learned much from the logical connections between the flaws in the parenting that the two main characters had and the crises that define their adult lives.
I like Eliot's books because of the portrait she paints of the social context, bringing out through the dillemas faced by a variety of characters the absurdities and opportunities provided in English society of that era. I also like the dialogue: at times witty, at times very serious with much attention to precision of diction, at times piquante and humourous.
Other reviewers have highlighted the exploration of Zionism made by Daniel. I did not find that this was the theme of the book, or even a prolonged focus. Two quite distinct communities are characterized: the English aristocratic set and the London Jewish community. The two communities are drawn with the same objectivity and balance, showing virtues, villainies, and absurdities in both. This balance was rare at the time, and continues to be rare today. For me, the theme of the book is the development of identity, and the role of parenting, social position, community membership and nationality in that development.
The book does not preach Zionism. It shows how Daniel Deronda became inspired by it. In our world's current confusion over the war in Israel-Palestine, it is interesting to see how a critical, compassionate mind could come to be so inspired. It is interesting to note that Daniel's first plan is to go to "the East" ( i.e., Palestine) and observe conditions there, to learn more about the current reality. He does not give up his critical conscience when he decides to take up the Zionist project. This happens at the conclusion of the book, so we don't know what conclusions his observations may bring him to.
George Eliot does not let us down in her portrayal of the dilemmas facing women in her time. My mind was exercised hard in trying to imagine how one of the heroines, Gwendolen Harleth, could extricate herself from the trap of her marriage: was there any way of making any agreement with her husband that could afford her some freedom for self-actualizing? Would a real man be amenable to some kind of negotiation? Often, some element of cooperation or non-cooperation in sexual pleasure is used as a lever in novels about marriages, but this option doesn't come into this story.
The book also examines the role of art in society -- what distinguishes a professional from an amateur? What happens when people with certain talents are prevented from developing them seriously? When is an actress an artist and when an object of some element of the sex trade?
Sex comes into the story more as a commodity than as a motivation. "Making love" is the term used for conversations between men and women about proposals of marriage. There are no bedroom scenes. The "kept woman" in the story acts to defend her rights, and receives some compensation in the end, though little joy. But Gwendolen, who superceded her and married the sadistic lord, has no joy either.
The community of characters collected in the plot does provide lots of puzzles to work out!
I'm glad I read/listened to this book.
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provided can enhance the beauty of the story for you. I listened to this book as an audiobook. When I'm listening to a book, I am more patient for this kind of thing.Daniel Deronda begins much like a Jane Austen novel of manners, but has much darker moments than Austen's books usually have. Such elements are more reminicent of Dickens or one of the Brontes.
I learned much from the logical connections between the flaws in the parenting that the two main characters had and the crises that define their adult lives.
I like Eliot's books because of the portrait she paints of the social context, bringing out through the dillemas faced by a variety of characters the absurdities and opportunities provided in English society of that era. I also like the dialogue: at times witty, at times very serious with much attention to precision of diction, at times piquante and humourous.
Other reviewers have highlighted the exploration of Zionism made by Daniel. I did not find that this was the theme of the book, or even a prolonged focus. Two quite distinct communities are characterized: the English aristocratic set and the London Jewish community. The two communities are drawn with the same objectivity and balance, showing virtues, villainies, and absurdities in both. This balance was rare at the time, and continues to be rare today. For me, the theme of the book is the development of identity, and the role of parenting, social position, community membership and nationality in that development.
The book does not preach Zionism. It shows how Daniel Deronda became inspired by it. In our world's current confusion over the war in Israel-Palestine, it is interesting to see how a critical, compassionate mind could come to be so inspired. It is interesting to note that Daniel's first plan is to go to "the East" ( i.e., Palestine) and observe conditions there, to learn more about the current reality. He does not give up his critical conscience when he decides to take up the Zionist project. This happens at the conclusion of the book, so we don't know what conclusions his observations may bring him to.
George Eliot does not let us down in her portrayal of the dilemmas facing women in her time. My mind was exercised hard in trying to imagine how one of the heroines, Gwendolen Harleth, could extricate herself from the trap of her marriage: was there any way of making any agreement with her husband that could afford her some freedom for self-actualizing? Would a real man be amenable to some kind of negotiation? Often, some element of cooperation or non-cooperation in sexual pleasure is used as a lever in novels about marriages, but this option doesn't come into this story.
The book also examines the role of art in society -- what distinguishes a professional from an amateur? What happens when people with certain talents are prevented from developing them seriously? When is an actress an artist and when an object of some element of the sex trade?
Sex comes into the story more as a commodity than as a motivation. "Making love" is the term used for conversations between men and women about proposals of marriage. There are no bedroom scenes. The "kept woman" in the story acts to defend her rights, and receives some compensation in the end, though little joy. But Gwendolen, who superceded her and married the sadistic lord, has no joy either.
The community of characters collected in the plot does provide lots of puzzles to work out!
I'm glad I read/listened to this book.
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LibraryThing member Britt84
I really love Eliot, and I found this book really good. Eliot's style is great and she writes so beautifully, the characters are worked out well and are believable in their doubts and problems.
What I found special about this book is the way Eliot writes about Jews. In Eliot's days it wasn't common
Besides this, it's just a beautiful story, of love and kindness, but also of cruelty; it's a coming-of-age type of story in Gwendolyn's discovery of what the real world is like, and a bit of a mystery-story in Daniel's search for his parents and his identity. A book that has many different aspects, and definitely highly recommended...
What I found special about this book is the way Eliot writes about Jews. In Eliot's days it wasn't common
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to say anything positive about Jews, and though the characters have the common prejudices against Jews, the Jewish characters are such nice, good people that they all come to love them. Daniel Deronda himself is actually happy to find out that he is Jewish too. This is such a contrast with the way Jews are usually described in 18th and 19th century literature that I found it very refreshing. Apparently it didn't help to increase the popularity of the book at the time and many people felt it was wrong of Eliot to write something like this, so I think it was quite brave of her to do so anyway.Besides this, it's just a beautiful story, of love and kindness, but also of cruelty; it's a coming-of-age type of story in Gwendolyn's discovery of what the real world is like, and a bit of a mystery-story in Daniel's search for his parents and his identity. A book that has many different aspects, and definitely highly recommended...
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LibraryThing member raschneid
Ambitious and thought-provoking, as always. Daniel Deronda begins as a traditional novel of courtship and marriage. Then, a hundred pages in, it becomes an unconventional exploration of nationalism and morality, with a conclusion that I'm sure would have been quite daring for its time.
I'm not sure
However, I imagine this was a groundbreaking novel in its portrayal of Jewish characters, and the comparisons between the female characters in Mirah's world and Gwendolen herself were genius.
I also found Daniel, while at times a bit preachy, a very compelling character, whose total willingness to sympathize and try to understand the world leaves him unable to act in it. From this perspective, Daniel's taking on an identity is crucial and gives him a context from which to act. His adoption of this identity feels troublesomely random, but perhaps this is Eliot being a bit sly and unessentialist.
I'm not sure
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how well Eliot's musings about nationalism have aged; in a large part this book is about ethnic identity and Zionism, and Daniel Deronda's happily ever after as a Zionist feels unconvincing now that we've had sixty years of conflict in Palestine. Eliot's specific claims - that, despite the fact that some people just aren't interested in their background, or that background entails suffering in the form of discrimination or internal sexism, group identity has something to offer its members - is something with which most people will agree to a point, but perhaps not to the point that Eliot wants to take it.However, I imagine this was a groundbreaking novel in its portrayal of Jewish characters, and the comparisons between the female characters in Mirah's world and Gwendolen herself were genius.
I also found Daniel, while at times a bit preachy, a very compelling character, whose total willingness to sympathize and try to understand the world leaves him unable to act in it. From this perspective, Daniel's taking on an identity is crucial and gives him a context from which to act. His adoption of this identity feels troublesomely random, but perhaps this is Eliot being a bit sly and unessentialist.
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LibraryThing member jmoncton
Although this Victorian classic has many of the usual threads - arranging marriages for fortune or title, love triangles, and the issue of social class structure - this book adds the unusual addition of the emerging Zionist movement. I have always cringed whenever reading passages in Victorian
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novels that have Jewish characters. These people usually have pretty minor roles, but are always portrayed as unattractive, lacking morals and being overall villains or lower class. Slurs against Jews abound in books from this time period. Eliot has definitely taken a brave step in portraying the title character, Daniel Deronda, as an Englishman, brought up with all the advantages of money and class, but with a murky birth history. As an adult, he discovers his Jewish roots which he embraces wholeheartedly. My biggest peeve with this book is that Eliot's motives of portraying Jews in a positive light and educating the world about Zionism are portrayed awkwardly. Deronda's reaction of completely embracing his Judaism seems unrealistic. Jews were treated as second class citizens and the book has long passages of preaching. Definitely this book was admirable for its intent, but not as well executed as it could have been. Show Less
LibraryThing member devenish
It would be superfluous for me to repeat the many excellent reviews given already. Here are my thoughts on finally completing this long and may I say,difficult work.
Daniel Deronda himself I found self-satisfied and something of a prig.His treatment of Gwendolen at the end was nothing more than
Deronda himself saves a young girl from drowning herself (his only true act of goodness it seems to me) She turns out to be a Jewess called Mirah who is the only main character in the book with whom one can truly empathise. She has a brother,Mordecai,who to be frank,must be one of the most boring person ever written about. He goes on and on for pages and pages about the Jewish religion until you want to hit him.
As I have said about other books,the reader must be able to sympathise with at least some of the main characters and in this cast one just cannot. All power to George Eliot for writing this complicated and detailed story which runs in my edition to over 800 pages. I'm glad I've read it,but unlike some of her other books,I won't be returning to it.
Daniel Deronda himself I found self-satisfied and something of a prig.His treatment of Gwendolen at the end was nothing more than
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disgraceful and could well have led to her committing suicide. Gwendolen Harleth is for the most part a most annoying person. She is a spoilt and pampered creature with few good points except a deep love for her mother. The real villain is Henleigh Mallenger Grandcourt whom Gwendolen feels forced to marry due to the fact that he is rich and her family has lost their own money.This turns out to be a regrettable decision as Grandcourt is also cruel and cold to a remarkable degree.Deronda himself saves a young girl from drowning herself (his only true act of goodness it seems to me) She turns out to be a Jewess called Mirah who is the only main character in the book with whom one can truly empathise. She has a brother,Mordecai,who to be frank,must be one of the most boring person ever written about. He goes on and on for pages and pages about the Jewish religion until you want to hit him.
As I have said about other books,the reader must be able to sympathise with at least some of the main characters and in this cast one just cannot. All power to George Eliot for writing this complicated and detailed story which runs in my edition to over 800 pages. I'm glad I've read it,but unlike some of her other books,I won't be returning to it.
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LibraryThing member Cosmickate
Daniel Deronda is one of the most admirable and remarkable characters I've ever encountered. He is saintly and kind but he hasn't been very dynamic in the novel. However, Gwendolyn Harneth takes the place of the female protagonist who was a spoiled brat at first but has encountered so many strifes,
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brought about by the consequences of her actions, which led her to a painful curve towards learning. Eliot's attempt to explore Jewish mysticism is difficult to muddle through, even with copious footnotes. I love this book but I'm looking forward to read Mill of the Floss and Middlemarch this year so I am not certain which one I will like best until I read the others. Show Less
LibraryThing member BookishDame
Beautiful classic novel by George Eliot about a young jewish man's struggles to survive and choose the right love.
This is one of the most beautifully written novels of its day, and is timeless in its message.
Highly recommended.
This is one of the most beautifully written novels of its day, and is timeless in its message.
Highly recommended.
LibraryThing member charlie68
Not for the faint hearted, make sure to drink plenty of liquids before hand, but well worth the effort. Plenty of bon-mots for the book club.
LibraryThing member wordebeast
Still, IMHO, the best Eliot. Bigger issues, and you always know Eliot's way smarter than you and point/counter-pointed it already.
LibraryThing member otterley
this book is never much liked, and often not admired all that much either. Like many of Eliot's books, it has two interlocking and overlapping narratives, with the titular Daniel deronda at the fulcrum. A displaced Jew, at the heart of British society, the book shows his quest for self fulfilment
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and knowledge through Judaism, while at the same time he is the object of attention and obsession of Gwendolen Harleth - a hitchcock femme fatale before her time. Eliot plays with Jewish stereotypes, while also creating characters of implausible virtue to support her narrative of understanding, but the beating heart of the book is always with Gwendolen and her masochistic relationships with both Grandcourt, her sadistic husband, and also the aloof Deronda. Show Less
LibraryThing member JBD1
I appreciated the complex nature and depth of Daniel Deronda, but didn't enjoy it nearly as much as Middlemarch, and found I got rather bogged down for a while in the middle.
LibraryThing member fitakyre
I ended up liking the book more than I thought I would. Gwendolen Harleth is really a fantastic character, and Eliot has a superb mastery of the consciousness of people from many different backgrounds. A word to the wise: parsing through the language is a little like trying to kill yourself with a
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feather. Show Less
LibraryThing member awilliamson
This is my all time favorite novel. Eliot managed to combine the social issues of prejudice, upbringing, and class creating a wonderful tale of love and finding one's own self.
LibraryThing member brakketh
Fantastic intertwining of two stories centred around Deronda, thoroughly enjoyed.
LibraryThing member m.belljackson
The character of Daniel Deronda rises to meet all the accolades, in and out of the book, and yet, as an adult, he strangely continues to lack
the simple courage to ask Sir Hugo who his parents really are or were. This lack of resolution goes on way too long and,
with the endless self-pitying
His hesitation with Gwendolyn is self serving and makes one wonder if the passion aroused around the gambling table ever went extinct.
Gambling was boring while archery stands out, making one long to join an Archery Ball and and Archery Picnic!
And, there are always George Eliot gems: "The best introduction to astronomy is to think
of the nightly heavens as a little lot of stars belonging to one's own homestead."
While many characters are finely drawn, I wish that Mirah had been less meek (giving up her purse to her father, c'mon),
making readers wonder if she will be a match for Daniel or continue to stay in awesome acquiescing mode.
the simple courage to ask Sir Hugo who his parents really are or were. This lack of resolution goes on way too long and,
with the endless self-pitying
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introspection of self absorbed and entitled Gwendolyn, makes the book at least one quarter too long. His hesitation with Gwendolyn is self serving and makes one wonder if the passion aroused around the gambling table ever went extinct.
Gambling was boring while archery stands out, making one long to join an Archery Ball and and Archery Picnic!
And, there are always George Eliot gems: "The best introduction to astronomy is to think
of the nightly heavens as a little lot of stars belonging to one's own homestead."
While many characters are finely drawn, I wish that Mirah had been less meek (giving up her purse to her father, c'mon),
making readers wonder if she will be a match for Daniel or continue to stay in awesome acquiescing mode.
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LibraryThing member burritapal
If I were George Eliot, I would have had Mirah's father take the ring he stole from Daniel Deronda to Ezra Cohen's pawn shop, where Ezra would have recognized it and detained him, so the police could take him to jail and Daniel could get his father's ring back. That was the only thing wrong with
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the ending. Show Less
LibraryThing member JulieStielstra
It pains me to admit... a bit of a slog. More than a bit, actually, especially since I've read Middlemarch at least four times and will always believe it to be one of the greatest of all novels in English. Perhaps Eliot reached that point in some artists' work where they move beyond themselves,
But Deronda... I just never warmed to the man. He's too saintly, too perfect. Eliot can be so fine with complex characters, and here expends pages upon pages upon pages on describing their every thought, feeling, heartbeat... but they never quite come alive here. Gwendolen Harleth, the spoiled, utterly self-absorbed young beauty is more interesting because she is so flawed and contradictory. Then - for reasons mostly mercenary - she accepts a nightmare marriage with the villainous, controlling, heartless aristo Grandcourt (even his name is heavy-handed). In Middlemarch, the cold-hearted, narrow-minded scholar Casaubon inspires some sympathy in his loneliness; Grandcourt inspires only loathing. Humbled by his cruelty, Gwendolen in her anguish seeks to reform herself, acknowledge the weakness that got her into this mess, and become better by hooking into Deronda's faultless goodness... and here, to Eliot's credit, she does not upend Gwendolen's basic character as she pleads and implores (there's a lot of imploring in this novel) and begs and cries to keep Deronda at her beck and call to tend to herself, while it never once occurs to her to even ask about his own crisis of identity, spirit, and anxious love.
Eliot clearly was closely examining the role of Jewish people in this late 19th century English society, with a great deal of sympathy and interest, sometimes idealization, and sometimes some ineradicable stereotypes of pawnbrokers, traders, and swindlers. Deronda's unknown mother turns out to be a gifted singer who has rebelled furiously against her tyrannical father's strictures about who she is expected to be and how she is forced to behave, including giving up her infant son in order to live her life as she feels she has a right to. Eliot seems torn about how she sees this woman: both sympathetic to her plight under her father's coercive demands, and yet blaming her for becoming an emotional cripple. The dreadful father is later held up as a revered intellectual and spiritual leader in whom Daniel takes some pride. It's odd. And frankly, the brother Mordecai (aka Ezra), who is also revered as a sage by his family and friends comes across as a morose, humorless, tedious zealot - whose mantle the pious Deronda can't wait to take up.
If you've not read Eliot, I wouldn't recommend starting here. If you love her, you have to work awfully hard to pry out any humor, life, or warm-blooded, messy humanity from the long pages of explication, polemics, and all that imploring in this one. Three stars because it's George Eliot (and for the passages involving tormenting sensitive dogs and the reassurance provided by a cat); otherwise... meh.
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into something darker, more opaque, less digestible (I'm thinking Beethoven's late quartets), and leave us mortals behind.But Deronda... I just never warmed to the man. He's too saintly, too perfect. Eliot can be so fine with complex characters, and here expends pages upon pages upon pages on describing their every thought, feeling, heartbeat... but they never quite come alive here. Gwendolen Harleth, the spoiled, utterly self-absorbed young beauty is more interesting because she is so flawed and contradictory. Then - for reasons mostly mercenary - she accepts a nightmare marriage with the villainous, controlling, heartless aristo Grandcourt (even his name is heavy-handed). In Middlemarch, the cold-hearted, narrow-minded scholar Casaubon inspires some sympathy in his loneliness; Grandcourt inspires only loathing. Humbled by his cruelty, Gwendolen in her anguish seeks to reform herself, acknowledge the weakness that got her into this mess, and become better by hooking into Deronda's faultless goodness... and here, to Eliot's credit, she does not upend Gwendolen's basic character as she pleads and implores (there's a lot of imploring in this novel) and begs and cries to keep Deronda at her beck and call to tend to herself, while it never once occurs to her to even ask about his own crisis of identity, spirit, and anxious love.
Eliot clearly was closely examining the role of Jewish people in this late 19th century English society, with a great deal of sympathy and interest, sometimes idealization, and sometimes some ineradicable stereotypes of pawnbrokers, traders, and swindlers. Deronda's unknown mother turns out to be a gifted singer who has rebelled furiously against her tyrannical father's strictures about who she is expected to be and how she is forced to behave, including giving up her infant son in order to live her life as she feels she has a right to. Eliot seems torn about how she sees this woman: both sympathetic to her plight under her father's coercive demands, and yet blaming her for becoming an emotional cripple. The dreadful father is later held up as a revered intellectual and spiritual leader in whom Daniel takes some pride. It's odd. And frankly, the brother Mordecai (aka Ezra), who is also revered as a sage by his family and friends comes across as a morose, humorless, tedious zealot - whose mantle the pious Deronda can't wait to take up.
If you've not read Eliot, I wouldn't recommend starting here. If you love her, you have to work awfully hard to pry out any humor, life, or warm-blooded, messy humanity from the long pages of explication, polemics, and all that imploring in this one. Three stars because it's George Eliot (and for the passages involving tormenting sensitive dogs and the reassurance provided by a cat); otherwise... meh.
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LibraryThing member JVioland
Wonderful book by one of my favorite authors. It is the only one she wrote that occurs during her contemporary times and deals with antisemitism in English Victorian society.
LibraryThing member raizel
This is my first George Eliot novel. It was 900 pages of print, but since I had to read so many sentences at least twice to figure out what in the world she was getting at, it felt even longer. (I do realize that I read many series whose total page count is more than 900.)Most of the text seems to
I considered trying to write this review in the style of the author---many asides and colons and semi-colons and obscure references (at least for someone reading the novel in the beginning of the 21st century)---but, while it may be amusing to this writer, it may be less so the reader and, what is of more importance, it does not touch upon the plot and meaning of the book: who is the main character---Daniel or Gwendolen, since, according to the introduction, someone actually tried to rewrite the book to concentrate solely on Gwendolen---a spoiled child, as the first part is titled---who realizes that she is capable of developing a conscience if only Daniel is there to help her; or is it Daniel, a man with no faults beyond perhaps being too tolerant and considerate, who is lucky in the order in which he learns about himself and possible goals in life, as well as being lucky in the many coincidences that occur, especially those that throw Daniel and Gwendolen together in different European cities? The book ends as Daniel and Gwendolen are about to begin their adult lives---after 900 pages!
The introduction and timeline were helpful. I did eventually, I think, decipher almost all the text, but it was hard. There was a funny bit (I hope): "Music was soon begun. Miss Arrowpoint and Herr Klesmer played a four-handed piece on two pianos which convinced the company in general that it was long,..." [p. 49] I would have stopped the sentence there; Eliot goes on.
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be about what had happened or might happen and how people felt about one or both of these; not much seems to take place in the present, which is too bad, because conversations were less convoluted than Eliot's explanations and usually comprehensible. I did learn a lot of mythology and history and popular culture of the time thanks to my nearby cell phone and Google. I considered trying to write this review in the style of the author---many asides and colons and semi-colons and obscure references (at least for someone reading the novel in the beginning of the 21st century)---but, while it may be amusing to this writer, it may be less so the reader and, what is of more importance, it does not touch upon the plot and meaning of the book: who is the main character---Daniel or Gwendolen, since, according to the introduction, someone actually tried to rewrite the book to concentrate solely on Gwendolen---a spoiled child, as the first part is titled---who realizes that she is capable of developing a conscience if only Daniel is there to help her; or is it Daniel, a man with no faults beyond perhaps being too tolerant and considerate, who is lucky in the order in which he learns about himself and possible goals in life, as well as being lucky in the many coincidences that occur, especially those that throw Daniel and Gwendolen together in different European cities? The book ends as Daniel and Gwendolen are about to begin their adult lives---after 900 pages!
The introduction and timeline were helpful. I did eventually, I think, decipher almost all the text, but it was hard. There was a funny bit (I hope): "Music was soon begun. Miss Arrowpoint and Herr Klesmer played a four-handed piece on two pianos which convinced the company in general that it was long,..." [p. 49] I would have stopped the sentence there; Eliot goes on.
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Subjects
Awards
Language
Original publication date
1876
Physical description
912 p.; 7.1 inches
ISBN
0140430202 / 9780140430202
Local notes
The Penguin English Library