Dear Serial Readers,
This week's section of the novel is a gorgeous set-piece of an installment, moving from the little dinner party at the Gibsons to the Hollingford charity ball, with the preparations chapter sandwiched between as the interlude, with plenty of gossip and gown-gathering. I love reading in the format of these segments because I see the arrangement (like the nosegays Molly admires, but Cynthia pulls apart) of the chapter scenes in a way that fades away when we read chapters in whatever chunks we like. I know that Gaskell disliked the serial format when she was commissioned by Dickens to contribute a novel (North and South) to Household Words in weekly segments, but her experience providing the monthly installments of this novel to The Cornhill was different. For one thing, she wrote out the cluster of chapters as installments, something she did not do with the earlier serial. I'd love to find out more about this.
Back to the story: I loved the array of class-conscious details. These revolve mostly around Mrs. Gibson, and her hyper-sensitivity about dining (later hours meaning higher class status), dressing, and dancing partners, but Lady Harriet also injects some humor into this satirical treatment by speaking out about how the Towers family must dance with partners across class lines in order for Lord H to be relected. I was amused by the bit about the duchess and her diamonds, about how the people longed to catch a glimpse of the duchess, but she shows up in muslin, dressed à l'enfant and without jewels, and, worse, drinks beef-tea! When Lady Harriet goes over to the Browning sisters at the ball, a gesture we readers understand, Mrs. Gibson, without a shred of self-awareness, tells Molly about the Brownings: "If there is one thing I hate more than another, it is the trying to make out an intimacy with great people."
Last week, some of you readers talked about Molly's self-suppression, whether chosen or imposed, around Roger's attentions to Cynthia. In these chapters I like the glimmers of Molly's candor--her "spice of malice" in reply to her stepmother or her reputation as a "little truth-teller" to Lady Harriet. And her interest in scientific topics makes her enforced dancing with Lord H. somewhat a pleasure, even if he's not Roger. Mrs. G even advises Cynthia to read scientific books to attract the attentions of a lord! But poor Cynthia, she can barely read at all (indicated by the three-day-old newspaper she holds), since something is on her mind.
And about Cynthia's distraction the suspense builds, but in this low-keyed, underground way, around Preston. As other readers have mentioned, this is a different kind of suspense from sensation fiction and large-scale melodrama. But I am finding the mystery around Preston's power over Cynthia rather compelling, perhaps because of its subtle disturbance of the placid surface of the ordinariness of Holllingford life. What power does he have over Cynthia? She is clearly not free to reject him completely, even if she tosses his nosegay into the fireplace at home. Does he have some knowledge about her school days in France? I also enjoy how Gaskell aligns the reader with Molly here in reading Cynthia's discomfort, something no one else seems to notice.
For next week: chapters 27-29.
Serially submitted,
Susan
4 comments:
I, too, am quite intrigued by what is going on with Preston and Cynthia. The gossip from the visiting ladies suggests that Mrs. Gibson herself had at one time been interested in Preston, as had Cynthia. I seem to remember hear that at an earlier time as well. I believe Preston is sincerely interested in Cynthia, and she is somewhat interested in him as well--I do find this the most mysterious part of the plot so far, mostly because there are so many hints about what might have happened. I am also interested to see how long we wait for the revelation and how influential it will be when it comes. I was a bit surprised how quickly we found out who Osborne's wife is.
Like Susan, I noticed the attention to class in this section, and it reminded me a bit of the high school cafeteria, but on a somewhat more lasting scale, perhaps. That is, a scale that has some serious ramifications. But the novel's gentle tone toward the varying attitudes of the dancers about class, and the gentle mockery of Mrs. G. added to the delight of Lord H's appreciation of Molly. I have enjoyed thinking about Lady Cumnor forced to accept that pushy young girl as a daughter-in-law! Ha! Not that I'm making any predictions again quiet yet. No, just enjoying the concept.
I keep wondering: How much money does Mr. G. have? Does Mrs. G. have any idea? Why is he getting irritated at her nowadays? Will he ever have a happy daily life again? But that has been only a very tiny question in the reading thus far.
It's amusing how ready Mrs G is for wholesale change–build an addition on the house, revamp Cynthia into an intellectual–for the sake of social advance.
In general, in these chapters, all the splendid obsession with surface intricacies--who eats what when, who's wearing what fabric meaning what for fashion trends, who arrives when, etc.--contrasts, I'm guessing, with big things simmering below the surface.
Molly, who "could not quite enjoy herself if she was out of harmony with anyone," tries to mollify Preston, for Cynthia’s sake, but has no need at all to be in sync with him.
Most everyone at the ball seemed annoyed at some point. The ball scene as barometer. Is the dew point rising? A storm brewing?
For me, this installment can be best summed up in Roger's sensible declaration that "a book may be both deep and interesting" (Ch. 24; p. 279 in the Oxford). I think that this novel is proof. I really enjoy it on the level of craftsmanship, as several people have already pointed out -- this is just such a carefully assembled, impressive novel. And yet we're getting enormous depth (psychological, political, cultural, etc.) out of the depiction of ordinary, everyday life. It's really interesting, and even better, it's a lot of fun.
Just as we had cards last time to reveal character, this time we've got the piano. Cynthia and Molly reveal their personalities and quirks in the different ways they play the instrument.
Any thoughts about the county election business? I wonder who could actually vote at the time the novel is set. If Hollingford has to impress the people at the ball, does that mean we're past the Reform Bill and more people actually can vote? Or are the people at this charity ball not a representative slice of county life?
On the election question--the novel must be set in the wake of the First Reform Bill (1832), or else why would the landed gentry (Lord H and his sister Lady H) care about mingling with the commoner folk? Gaskell isn't precise about the date, but drops hints such as this (and about style of dress, modes of transportation). For readers in 1865, those subtle historical details probably were clear enough. So, my best guess would be mid-1830s?
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