Daniel Deronda by George Eliot
Publication date: 1876
Edition: Penguin Classics, 1986
Length: 883 pages
Source: second-hand bookshop
Summary from the jacket: With her hero Deronda, [Eliot] set out to come to terms with the English Jews, a society-within-a-society which her contemporaries seemed to be either oblivious of, or to hold in contempt. With her heroine, Gwendolen Harleth, who marries for power rather than love, she uncovered a vein in human relations that could lead, through the best intentions, only to despair.
Controversial in its day, DD was George Eliot’s last book, following on the heels of Middlemarch which is usually hailed her masterpiece (well, a masterpiece of 19th century literature in general really. And perhaps just a plain old masterpiece). Lovers of a more classic Victorian novel might well run their eyes over the themes (prejudice! politics! idealism! Kabbalah!) and decide to give this one a miss but I think it’s definitely worth reading. Worthy of a place in the 1001? I couldn't possibly say.
Basically, Eliot, an Anglican by birth, tackles the question of the Jew in British/European society of her time (and possibly ours), revealing her own intense interest in Judaism and in the ideal of the creation of a homeland for the Jewish people. She does this through the story of Daniel Deronda, a “rootless” young Englishman who doesn’t know much about his own heritage, and his relationship with two women, the beautiful, selfish Gwendolen Harleth, who he first meets in a casino, and Mirah Cohen, a young Jewish woman who he saves from drowning...
There are lots of things I liked about the book, even though Middlemarch and Mill on the Floss, say, are probably more satisfying reads overall. Deronda himself isn’t my ideal Victorian moody romantic hero either (yay Mr Rochester!) but he’s jolly intelligent, compassionate and conflicted and I think we want to know how his story will turn out. While impressed with Eliot’s daring in tackling a subject like anti-semitism at all, it’s a shame that some of the central Jewish characters themselves are so “idealized” and, in the case of the love interest, Mirah, just plain sentimentalized. Her brother Mordecai (aka Ezra), to whom Deronda is equally drawn, is the perfect mouthpiece for Eliot to espouse a vision of a homeland for the Jews, but he is also a romantically tragic figure. True, not all the Jewish characters are perfect, but Eliot’s real satire on people, society and the way they handle human relationships (and bungle international politics) is directed mostly towards the non-Jews. Fair enough - there she is on much stronger ground in terms of her own experience, and it is to that society that she directs her criticism.
Gwendolen, for example, is a wonderful mess and definitely my favourite character - egotistical, vain, manipulative... but wonderfully real nevertheless, capable of growth and courage and always a loving daughter. Even more interesting is her actual relationship to Deronda - their association is a constant and yet there is never any real question of a romantic or sexual liaison, despite the fact that they are undeniably attracted to one another. This in itself is quite a daring take on male/female relations for Eliot to have described and maybe my abiding memory of the book.
So, while I definitely found DD to be a love story, it isn’t really that of Daniel or either of the two women in his life. I think Eliot’s genuine love of her subject and the focus of her criticism is what shines through: a philosophy and vision of living that strongly attracts her and which she feels her own society does not understand and holds in ignorant contempt. Many readers at the time were flummoxed by this, but it's by no means the dominant feature of the book, although quite a fascinating one. There is a varied cast of characters from all walks of life, great human drama and personal tragedy, too, and Eliot's skill in presenting them and their lives makes the book always readable.
What Daniel eventually discovers about himself is the pivotal moment of the story and enables him to see clearly where his future lies in terms of both love and career. I won’t give away what happens to the four central characters - Daniel, Gwendolen, Mirah and Mordecai - but it’s not all tragedy, nor is it all happiness. Suffice to say that one of them finishes by proclaiming “I shall live. I shall be better.”
Recommended.