The Mill on the Floss

After beautiful opening descriptions, an energetic plot, beginning and concluding with an embrace in the Floss,
is slowed to tedium by the endless Tulliver and Dodson womens' conversations and their fixations.

Maggie Tulliver showed a wonderful rebellious strength in a family with an often cruel older brother, a flighty mother,
and an over indulgent father. Unfortunately for her and George Eliot's readers, she descends into a pointless chasm
of self-chastising morality, broken only when she overcomes pity to agree to marry one man, then falls in love with
her cousin's boyfriend.

The only mystery in the predictable plot comes when Maggie and Tom, river people who knew better, take a rowboat out into a flood.

This novel was Eliot’s follow-up to her successful Adam Bede. While I didn’t feel it was consistently as strong as that book, and my attention wavered at times, I enjoyed it overall. In particular, the crisis that destroys Maggie Tulliver’s reputation while at the same time strengthening her moral conviction, as well as the denouement that followed, swept me along like the raging waters of the Humber (sorry, Floss).
As for what bothered me: I felt the relationship between Maggie and her beloved, implacable brother Tom was too closely modeled on that of Eliot and her brother Isaac, who never reconciled with her after she set up house with George Henry Lewes. And the depiction of Maggie’s four aunts was, to me, overdone; I felt the show more same effect could have been achieved with fewer pen strokes. In addition, the juxtaposition of satire and pathos pulled the narrative in opposite directions. And the repeated foreshadowing of Maggie’s eventual fate was, to my taste, heavy-handed.
Balanced against that is the lovingly detailed realism of rural life evident in every one of her works I’ve read so far. In addition, there is her characteristic analysis of the dynamics of small-town society. For me, the contrast of the demands of competing modes of “morality” — Christian and societal — in the wake of Maggie’s ordeal is a strong point of the book. The ground had been prepared for it at the midpoint, the opening chapter of Book 4, “A Variation of Protestantism Unknown to Bossuet.” I continue to be struck by Eliot’s “post-anti-evangelicalism,” her sympathetic depiction of a faith she no longer shares. In this book, this is not only embodied by Maggie but also by the local vicar, Dr. Kenn (well-named; he is the one who truly knows).
As a child, Maggie is so impetuous and clumsy that it’s hard to imagine, given her precocious intelligence, that she can’t foresee the consequences of her actions.
This trait of the childhood Maggie returns at the book’s climax, when she awakens to the reality of having allowed herself to be swept away with the tide (literally) in the company of her cousin’s intended, Stephen Guest. At this book’s heart, as in most of Eliot’s work, is the theme of the restricted life chances for women in early nineteenth-century England. Her behavior throughout this episode must be read in the context of the options of a young woman in her time. When so read, it’s clear that alongside her acquiescence to her fate is the fierce struggle to support herself and achieve self-determination. At heart is a profound ethical resolve. show less

I think I would take George Eliot over Jane Austen any day. Her writing just seems much more realistic and she deals with real problems that would face people today.

My St. Vital library book club chose this for our January 2009 read. I decided to start at the beginning of January and read approximately 25 pages a day. That's a departure from my regular reading style as I usually start one book and finish it and then move on to another. I think it was the right approach to take with this book because I pondered the development of the story more thoroughly.

Maggie Tulliver is the younger child in the Tulliver family. Her father owns Dorlcote Mill (which isn't strictly on the Floss but on a tributary called the Ripple) and the family earns show more a comfortable living. However, her father constantly "goes to the law" and when he loses a claim regarding water rights he is bankrupt. Maggie's brother Tom, whom Maggie adores, is away at school at this time because Mr. Tulliver wants him to do something better than run a mill and he thinks a good education will improve his chances. Maggie was also away at school but it is generally considered a waste to educate girls even though Maggie is much more clever than Tom. Tom's classmate, Philip Wakem, is the son of the lawyer who opposed Mr. Tulliver and who eventually takes over the mill. Philip has a hunch back but when Maggie meets him as a young girl visiting her brother she promises to always kiss him when they meet. Philip falls in love and continues to love Maggie even when the family is destitute. Tom finds out that Maggie and Philip are meeting clandestinely and forbids them to continue. When Mr. Tulliver, who has been managing the mill, horsewhips Wakem senior and then dies there doesn't seem to be any future for Maggie and Philip. However, years pass and circumstances change. Maggie, who has been teaching away from St. Ogg's, is brought back for a rest and vacation by her cousin Lucy. Lucy is seriously involved with Stephen, the son of St. Ogg's foremost family, and they enjoy singing in the evening quite often with Philip Wakem. Lucy is worried that Maggie will not want to meet Philip but Maggie assures her that she is quite willing to do so if Tom will consent. Tom doesn't exactly consent but he acknowledges that Maggie has a right to do as she pleases so the way seems clear for Maggie and Philip to resume their romance. Lucy dreams of a future with her and Stephen and Maggie and Philip spending evenings together. Unbeknownst to her, Stephen has fallen in love with Maggie and Maggie is attracted to him but doesn't want to hurt either Lucy or Philip. Stephen convinces Maggie to elope with him but before they can go too far Maggie realizes they can never be happy having hurt Philip and Lucy so she leaves him and returns to St. Ogg's. There she is spurned by Tom and reviled by all the other townspeople. Lucy takes to her bed and Philip disappears. Even when Stephen writes a letter absolving Maggie of any fault most of the people in St. Ogg's will have nothing to do with her. When the minister takes Maggie in as a governess to his own children rumours are spread about them and he finally has to let her go. Philip writes to Maggie saying he still wants to marry her and all she has to do is send him a one-word letter ("Come") and he will speed to her side. Maggie is trying to determine how to respond when she realizes the river has flooded and there is water in her room. She awakens her landlord and manages to get into one of the boats he owns but the boat is spun away from the house before anyone else can join her. Through a long stormy night she is tossed about in the boat but with the dawn and a cessation of the rain Maggie is able to get her bearings. She is determined to get to the mill and check on her brother and mother. When she gets there the mill has been destroyed but her brother is still in the house and her mother is probably safe with another relative. Tom and Maggie get in the boat to try to go to safety but they are capsized and drown. When they are found they are clasped in each other's arms. Their tomb bears the inscription "In their death they were not divided."

One online review I read was by a young man who said after he read this he treated his sister much better. Tom was a harsh and dictatorial brother but Maggie never ceased to love him. I can relate to this as I had a quarrel with one of my brothers that damaged our relationship but I never ceased to care for him. When he died a few years after our quarrel I was so sad that we had never managed to make amends. It is an important lesson that we never know when we will last see a loved one so we should take good care of them each and every time. show less

Here is a book that creates conflicting emotions, lots of them.

The description of the mill in chapter 1 almost made me miss my stop during my commute. There is a peculiar magic in the writing. It’s lyrical and sharp all at once.

I loved Maggie so much. Oh, how I felt for her. All these people telling her what books not to read, and wishing she was a boy (too clever for a girl, you know…), and reminding her at every turn that there are things you cannot do because you are a girl. George Eliot sees this so clearly. How I wish that Maggie had been loved *enough* when she was a child. How I wish she had a brother that knew that showing affection did not mean being a narrow-minded misogynic idiot.

“She loved Tom very dearly, but she show more often wished that he cared more about her loving him.”

Here is Maggie, saying no to a gift and breaking readers’ hearts:

“It would make me in love with this world again, as I used to be, it would make me long to see and know many things; it would make me long for a full life.”

George Eliot’s insights into human nature, relationships, and society are wonderful and often funny, it was a bit like talking to a good friend in a cozy place, nodding “I know! I know! You’re so right!”

“It is always chilling, in a friendly intercourse, to say you have no opinion to give. And if you deliver an opinion at all, it is mere stupidity not to do it with an air of conviction and well-founded knowledge. You make it your own in uttering it, and naturally get fond of it.”

“...but incompetent gentlemen must live, and without private fortune it is difficult to see how they could all live genteelly if they had nothing to do with education or government.”

The thing that was woven with great skill and that impressed me the most, was the story of two people who have no idea how to handle a sudden and strong sexual attraction (this is exactly what it is and all it is, Eliot does everything but scream at the reader).

I certainly wish that Elliot would do less Victorian moralizing; fewer sentimental and very long Victorian asides. These either bored me to tears or made me react in all the wrong (cynical) ways. Also, the story keeps coming apart at the seams when you look at the novel from a distance, having finished it. The plot meanders, it goes every which way, gets predictable at times, drowns in details and aforementioned asides. If it weren’t for the ending, it might still have been a four star read, because the book had grown on me. But what was that ending for, where did it come from? Nobody knows and out of nowhere! It seems like the author said, “I have no idea how to get my characters out of this situation and finish my story, so let me just…”. Oh, PLEASE. show less

Tom was a heartless, self-righteous ass. Maggie was an insipid sop of a fool, self-righteous in her own way. The one was a mindless roar, the other a detestable whimper. Such wonderful writing, but I ceased caring about any of these hateful characters at least halfway through the book. I had to force myself to finish it. By the end, I was earnestly hoping that Maggie would fling herself into the Floss and make a pleasing end of things for everyone. It isn't hard to imagine how happy I was about the ending, at least, though no auto de fé could suffice to redeem these two obnoxious characters.

Why did you do this to me, George Eliot? I won't soon forgive this offense.

George Eliot paints people in a way that brings them to life. This book, is all about the contrast of personalities, the resonating effects of prejudice, and the challenges of conflicting ties. I loved it, even as I cringed at the behavior of many of the characters.

I did not like the ending. Not because Maggie died. I had been expecting her death from the moment she woke up on the boat, fleeing with her lover. What I hated was that in the end, it was the acceptance and love of her emotionally abusive brother Tom that brought Maggie peace. He didn't change at all, and I have no doubt that if he hadn't died, it would have only a matter of time before he was pushing her away and condemning her excessively once again.

My happy world ending show more would have had Maggie eventually realize how to navigate the narrow space between severing any tie that seems onerous, as Stephen Guest would have her do, and severing those that are truly unhealthy, as Maggie herself is unable to do, and thus finding happiness. But even an ending where Maggie dies miserable because she is trying to be true to a set of conflicting demands would have been preferable to giving way before the slightest friendly look from her brother.

All that said, I don't think we're supposed to be satisfied with the ending. I think this is supposed to be a tragedy, a tragedy not just because of death, but because Maggie, in the end, is never able to overcome the weakness that has haunted her from her earliest days. Eliot does not, I think, expect us to like or forgive Tom. show less

I enjoyed this. The opening chapters are very funny and Maggie is adorable. I like it when she pushes Lucy into the pond and how this and other early things pre-figure events later in the novel. Very clever. I liked how the aunts act as a Greek chorus early on, later replaced by the authorial voice. It must have been a very personal novel for Eliot to write. I heard that her brother refused to speak to her for 20 years, but she never let's herself be overcome by emotion. My sister refused to speak to me for 12 years for the same reasons.