North and South

At publication, Elizabeth Gaskell was derided for wading into knowledge unfit for female consumption, with her depiction of the conflict between industry and labour. I think it's brilliantly done, and considering it's only incidental to the novel's focus, that makes it even more so. It is first and foremost a romance, with the labour relations playing as a grand metaphor and commentary in the background: two people of opposing backgrounds but similar character, greeting one another with poor assumptions based on first impressions and having to build towards better relations for arriving at mutual happiness. Maybe comparing a romance to labour negotiations isn't exactly romantic for some, but for me it makes perfect sense. And I do like show more things to make sense, especially in the confusing world of courtship.

I read this almost on the heels of Hard Times by Charles Dickens, which was published just before it and takes place in a similar setting. Dickens' depiction of an industrial town was like a watercolour, whereas Gaskell paints with acrylic. Everything is more grounded and relatable, whether it's descriptions of the buildings and factories or of the people who work in them. For a true, close examination of the place and period, this is the better of the two. Margaret seems like a Charlotte Bronte leading lady, as the introduction suggests, headstrong and independent. The novel gets off to a couple of false starts, required to give us an adequate background that will explain how she is able to relate to various layers of social strata and see all points of view, but also where her heart lies. It is also quick to establish how very far romance lies from her mind, and how much self-control means to her. She is more than just strong for those who depend on her (and there are many of those, orbiting around her), she is also being strong for her own sake as the correct way to be. The ending is pitch perfect, after causing me stress as the remaining page count rapidly petered out. I am full of superlatives. show less

This is a Victorian novel without any attempts to pace the exciting bits. It just plows ahead with plot, no pauses at all to drink tea or write a letter. If you've watched the BBC mini-series (and if you're reading this novel now, it's because you spent a few hours watching Richard Armitage stare off into the middle distance in a brooding sort of way, let's not pretend otherwise) you'll be familiar with the events of the novel. What is surprising is how closely the television adaptation follows the novel. With the exception of Bessy, who is rather cloying in the novel but a caustic breath of fresh air in the mini-series, the characters are on the page as they appear on screen.

Despite the way Gaskell keeps things moving along rapidly, show more she doesn't fail to create a cast of memorable characters. In this novel, the parents are a lot. Mrs. Thornton reacts to the world around her with a prickly defensiveness which is understandable given that her husband lost their money in a foolish bet, then committed suicide, leaving her to eke out a living for her two small children. But understandable doesn't mean that she isn't a hard person to be around. And the Hales, Margaret's parents, are both weak and whiny. And yet their children love them deeply and also manage to have become the kind of people who animate their morals with action, so that Margaret befriends a working family and sets out to help them in the ways they both need and can accept and Mr. Thornton postures and yells a lot, then works to improve the conditions for his employees.

This novel was clearly intended to illuminate what conditions were for textile workers, but did so with a certain, not unexpected belief in the need for bosses to call the shots. But Gaskell is also pushing against the caste system with her constant theme that men who make their fortunes in factories are the equals of those who inherit theirs and that working men are as intelligent and ingenious as those who supervise them. There are a number of digs at the moral and intellectual abilities of the Irish, I guess proving that humans will always manage to scapegoat somebody.

This novel was a lot of fun and was often hard to set aside and I'm sure I'll revisit it soon. show less

Unfortunately, this book is not as gently funny as Cranford, my introduction to Gaskell, was, but it was still enjoyable. Sure, Margaret's dad is a bit of persistent jerk, but Margaret is a good protagonist-- opinionated, proud, intelligent, resourceful. I guess the romance with Thornton is good if you like that sort of thing, but I found Margaret's acclimation to the society of Milton-Northern to interesting, as well as her struggles to carry on as her family decays around her. It's a classic Victorian novel in the sense that, as one of my fellow students pointed out, every character spends the entire book not saying what they actually think. Which is always fun.

added June 2012:
Every time I read an Elizabeth Gaskell novel, I fall in show more love with its protagonist, and declare that she is the best protagonist in all Gaskell. So, as I read several Gaskell novels in succession this spring, Mary Barton was quickly dethroned by Molly Gibson, who was in turn supplanted by Margaret Hale.

What I love about Margaret (and thus North and South) is how Gaskell shows that inaction is actually an incredibly difficult action to perform. Margaret is often put into situations where she must not say or do anything, and yet she wants to so much. Us enlightened twenty-first century folks are quick to criticized the Victorian concept of the "angel in house" because women can do more things than manage a kitchen, but Gaskell takes a different tack here, showing how awful and unfair it is to put someone into the position of being the emotional support for an entire family. Yet Margaret bears it with as little complaint as possible, managing to be successful in most cases. It's hard work, but she manages to do it, and we love her for it.

I find that I enjoy Gaskell's implicit social commentary. Rarely does any Gaskell character come out and say something like, "I think the strictures against female action are wrong," but instead she has a series of awful complications ensue from those strictures. When you sit down and think about it, you realize that if women were allowed to express themselves more readily, much of this novel would never have happened. (Good for the characters, I suppose, even if it is bad for me.) Margaret may be in an unenviable position, but we're never tempted to dismiss her as whiny or lazy thanks to the way Gaskell sets it up. We're also kept well aware that there are worse positions in life to be in than Margaret's.

I also have to say that this is without a doubt the sexiest of Gaskell's novels. Margaret's arms-- oh my! And let us not forget that delicious silence... show less

It’s Pride and Prejudice with unions and factories. A strong-willed man from one social class, an opinionated, empathetic woman from a different class, sparks fly. I loved it! I have no idea why this novel is not more popular. Gaskell tackled some tricky themes with the industrial revolution’s impact on society, but she wove a love story and a close-knit family into the mix and the result is excellent.

“People may flatter themselves just as much by thinking that their
faults are always present to other people’s minds, as if they believe
that the world is always contemplating their individual charms and
virtues.”

“A wise parent humors the desire for independent action, so as to
become the friend and advisor when his absolute rule show more shall cease.”

“Those who are happy and successful themselves are too apt to make light of the misfortunes of others.”

Check out this video to learn a little context about the time period... Industrial Revolution video on Crash Course
‪https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjK7PWmRRyg&feature=em-uploademail‬ show less

This was a reread of this classic tale by Elizabeth Gaskell that deals with contrasts and misunderstandings. The first case is between the leading characters of Margaret Hale, a clergyman's daughter who was brought up between the rural parish where her parents lived, and fashionable London where her aunt and cousin lived and Mr. Thornton, a stern mill owner in the industrial town of Milton who brought himself up to his position from an impoverished start through the sheer strength of will of both himself and the mother who raised him. They are brought together when religious doubts lead her conscientious father to give up his position as a in the Church of England, and move to Milton to take work as a tutor, with Mr. Thornton as one of show more his first students. The other conflict is between labor and management, with labor represented by Thornton, and management by Higgins, a pro-Union worker. A strike looms with far reaching consequences for all.

It is a masterful story, and one close to Mrs. Gaskell's heart, as she was brought up in a rural village (similar to her fictional Cranford) but married a crusading clergyman and went with him to work among the industrial poor. She had an admirable way of seeing all sides of a question, and does not view any of them with rose colored glasses. For a Victorian novel, it is remarkably restrained in language and sentiment, and remains readable to this day. show less

I came to this novel, as is the case for many readers, through the BBC television adaptation, which I watched for the first time earlier this year. While I had not consciously avoided the novel and its adaptation until now, it's probably the case that I have been unconsciously avoiding Victorian fiction for some years, preferring the less ponderous novels of the earlier 19th century (particularly Austen) and the leaner style of 20th century fiction.

However at the moment I’m in the mood for Victoriana and this novel fits the bill perfectly. There are a lot of words – way more than is needed to simply tell the tale – and the tale itself has its share of sentimentality and melodrama. But I loved every word of the book and every show more overblown feeling that those words expressed. Having finished it, I will miss the world it took me to and I’m wondering how long it will be before I can visit that world again.

I listened to the novel in audiobook format, narrated by Juliet Stevenson. As is to be expected, the quality of the narration is superb. Stevenson flawlessly brings each character distinctly to life.

At the heart of North and South is the relationship between the two main protagonists: proud ex-parson’s daughter Margaret Hale and equally proud mill owner and industrialist John Thornton. They have different backgrounds, different attitudes and different sensibilities. They represent different worlds – she the world of the gentry from the agrarian and intellectual south of England, he the self-made men of the industrial north. They meet, they clash, they misunderstand each other. For the relationship to ultimately be resolved, they have to find a point of balance, a place of harmony, where the prejudices engendered by their differing backgrounds can give way to a new way of thinking and acting. The difficulties in the relationship of Margaret Hale and John Thornton are played out against the turmoil of 19th century England. Gaskell weaves into the novel the differences in attitude between the north and the south of the country, the conflict between capitalists and labour and the shifts in class and gender relations.

Some readers may find the novel’s discussion of social issues verging on the preachy, but I didn’t. I found it to be a fascinating glimpse not only into what I presume were Gaskell’s political and social views (although I know relatively little about Gaskell), but also into the attitudes of conservative, thoughtful, people towards the social change occurring at that time. This sense of change – change happening very fast, change that has to be coped with in order for the characters to survive – is a thread running through the novel. Margaret Hale in particular experiences extreme changes in her life and in her attitudes over the time span of the novel. John Thornton also experiences changes in his life circumstances and – crucially - in his attitude towards the relationship between employers and employees. Both characters have to deal with the changes in their lives while remaining true to themselves before they can find that place of harmony where they can be together. The resolution of their relationship symbolises the potential for a resolution of the social conflict which Gaskell so clearly describes.

Reviewers of North and South occasionally comment on the difference between the final scene in the novel and the final scene in the television adaptation. I like both. There is something particularly romantic about a public kiss on a railway platform shared by characters who might so easily have missed finding each other. It does not concern me at all that a couple in Victorian times would not have kissed each other in public. After all, what is a film kiss other than shorthand for “And they lived happily ever after”?

However, the novel also ends with a kiss. It’s just that the kiss is not described as one. Mr Thornton shows Margaret some dried roses he has from Helstone and she asks him to give them to her. He says "Very well. Only you must pay me for them!” Margaret then says “How shall I ever tell Aunt Shaw?” but only does so "after some time
 of delicious silence". It doesn’t take much imagination to work out what was happening during that “delicious silence”. A private kiss in a drawing room may not be quite as romantic as a public one on a railway platform, but it’s not too shabby either.

There are times when my reader’s soul craves lean, hard prose, stripped of excess adjectives and adverbs, where the action happens quickly and description is kept to a minimum. There are times when I am happy to wallow in lovely long words, with an abundance of description. This is a book for those times. It lacks the sparkle and wit of an Austen novel. Its language does not have the poetry of Hardy’s descriptions of landscape. But it’s a wonderful experience for a patient reader who wants to travel to a different time and place and is in the mood for an interesting tale, well told. show less

Like her contemporary Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell wanted to expose the human consequences of the Industrial Revolution. Where Dickens sought “to take the rooftops off” in Dombey and Son to show the disease and suffering caused by the relentless pursuit of the capitalist enterprise, in North and South, Gaskell focused on the response of one individual when confronted by poverty and suffering. The result is a blend of genres – a combination of Bildungsroman with Victorian industrial novel.

Gaskell’s protagonist Margaret Hale is jolted out of her pastoral background when her vicar father leaves the Church in a crisis of conscience and moves the family north to the mill town of Milton (a psuedonym for Manchester). Margaret’s show more physical journey to this new region brings about an awakening about the poverty and suffering experienced by the mill workers. Her preconceived ideas about industry and trade, born from her experience of Southern ways, are gradually relinquished as she deepens her friendship with some of the worker families.

She begins with an acute sense of class divisions and distaste of anyone involved in commerce.

I don’t like shoppy people. I think we are far better off knowing only cottagers and labourers and people without pretence….. I like all people whose occupations have to do with land…

But through her growing friendship with the vocal workers’ leader Nicholas Higgins and his gentle daughter Bessy, her sense of class is destabilised. Instead of the socially superior attitude with which she arrives at Milton, she begins to align herself with the workers, to challenge mill owner John Thornton about their conditions and to transgress the accepted boundaries of her class by speaking the language of the working class. Rebuked by her mother she retorts:

If I live in a factory town, I must speak factory language when I want it..

Her transgression is complete when she intervenes in a violent scene where she intervenes in a violent scene between John Thornton and a mass of striking workers. In using her body to shield him she steps out of the conventional private and domestic sphere for women, turning herself into an object for public scrutiny.

It’s in the stormy relationship with Thornton, a self made man, that the book shows Gaskell’s concept of how individual feeling fused with social concern can become an agent for change. Margaret refuses to accept his explanations of the relationship between owners and workers which dehumanises the latter by the reductive term “hands”. Under Margaret’s influence and the collapse of his business Thornton learns to treat his workers as individuals and to adopt a more paternalistic attitude towards their welfare.

Their exchanges are at times somewhat tedious (Dickens himself was very uneasy with some of the discussions), as are some conversations with Bessy Higgins as she lies dying from consumption and contemplates the afterlife. I found the use of dialect hard to digest also.
But those are minor points of criticism and don’t distract from my feeling that this was an engaging book. show less