Yes, that’s true. Her long journey (or should I say, our long journey of 400 + pages) results in a gradual change of heart and a different perspective.
Amusing because the Nicholas of the TV show is such a put-together, intelligent, charismatic man? He’s not the Nicholas of the book in his manner or speech, but he IS the Nicholas of the book at his core (i.e., in what he expresses about his daughters, the Hales, Thornton, the Union, etc.)
Ah, that’s right. I’m not much of a Downtown Abbey watcher, but I saw a couple of episodes. I like the actor (at least in his role as Nicholas Higgins).
For all its accuracy, I think the mini-series makes one misstep early on. It bothered me to the point that I had to fast forward through it on a subsequent watching. It’s the scene where John Thornton beats one of his workers for endangering the well-being of the others by lighting a match (to smoke) around highly flammable materials.
Thornton later tells Mr. Hale that he had to resort to violence because of a horrific experience of seeing other workers burn to death in an earlier incident at a different factory. First of all, that’s not in the book, but whatever, I’m fine with poetic license. However, regardless of past experience, the beating of a worker goes completely against the John Thornton of the book. It’s not that he wouldn’t beat someone because it’s not in his nature; it’s that he wouldn’t beat someone because he’s afraid it IS in his nature. He keeps a very tight rein on himself in this regard. From the novel: “He had always piqued himself on his self-control, and control himself he would.”
The writer of the screenplay for the BBC “North and South” said that this scene was an anathema to Gaskell purists, but she needed “an immediate assault upon all Margaret’s senses” that would set up her dislike of Thornton and the town of Milton in no uncertain terms.
The fact is, added the writer, “John never does anything terribly wrong in the novel.” Mostly, he and Margaret clash upon first meeting because they’re both very tired and have each had a long day, but that doesn’t translate well to the screen.
I enjoyed the book. I both read it and listened to it. Listening to it helped it go faster. I didn’t feel like it dragged.
It was a bit of a time capsule for women (and men), and although it felt burdensome in spots, it didn’t bother me like it has in another books. I did find Margaret walking alone at night and in poor areas questionable, so I appreciate @mathmom’s comment about authors doing it purposefully to influence the times.
Early on in the book I thought there were going to be deeper conversations about religious beliefs and other beliefs of the time. I felt like the surface of different controversial topics was touched upon but not really explored. Of course, that would have made it a different book.
Yes, that beating scene in the mini-series was totally out of character for John. Inexcusable. I thought it was a missed opportunity that we don’t really here what Margaret’s father’s problem with his religion is. He was so impractical. He could have spent some time on really helping the working class, not just teaching classics. We watched North and South on Amazon Prime.
Charles Dickens was her editor on this book and his own novels steer clear of any in-depth religious discussion. Maybe there’s some of his influence there.
In all his writings, Charles Dickens—a Christian of the broadest kind—is outspoken in his dislike of evangelicalism and Roman Catholicism, but, especially in his fiction, he is very reluctant to make professions of a specific faith beyond the most general sort of Christianity. What were Dickens's views toward religion?
Gaskell shares Dickens dislike of Roman Catholicism – or at least Dixon does! (hmmm…Dixon/Dickens…). As a “Papist” myself, I found Dixon’s rant amusing.
Amazon Prime tells me I have to subscribe to BritBox or Passionflix to watch the series. It’s a bit confusing to search because the Civil War minseries keeps popping up! Plus there apparently was a 1975 minseries starring Patrick Stewart. North & South (TV Mini Series 1975) - IMDb
Margaret’s parents both seem … useless isn’t quite the word I want but comes close. As for Margaret, I would say that Margaret has a deep regard of social class. Yes, she thinks certain classes need and should be helped but she doesn’t lose sight that those she helps are not of her station in life. Her help has a Lady Bountiful feel to it, though meant sincerely. Manufacturers or those in trade are not of her social class nor so below her class that she can “aid the poor.” Anyway, I found her a snob at the beginning of the book.
I really think Mr. Hale would have eventually devoted himself to the working class, if he had lived. His conversation with Nicholas Higgins was the first crack in opening that door.
Frankly, I’m not sure even Mr. Hale knew exactly what his problem with his religion was! Margaret had a hard time getting anything out of him. Seemed more like a mid-life crisis than a solely religious one.
I was one of the readers who thought of stopping partway through and did take a break about 2/3 of the way. It did seem to move faster after that point, but also seemed like a very abrupt ending.
I also skimmed through quite a bit of the non-plot parts. There was more philosophy, for lack of a better word, for my taste. It made me think of Ayn Rand books. There was also too much introspection for me - likely due to the style of the times in writing, but I was not all that interested in full pages of one anguished thought. And I had trouble reading extended passages of vernacular. But I did finish the book!
One stray comment on Chapter XLIV - amused by the references to Vashti and Mordechai - the whole megillah! Go Purim!
I see your point and @mathmom’s, too. Maybe I should have said a “disregard for social convention”? I meant that she had no problem becoming friends with and wandering amongst the lower classes in London – behavior that appalled Aunt Shaw and would have made Edith faint dead away.
Yes, to your Lady Bountiful comment. She’s so used to that role in Helstone that she doesn’t even realize that she’s being presumptuous by Milton standards, until Nicholas calls her on it when she assumes her visit is desired:
“I’m none so fond of having strange folk in my house.” But then relenting, as he saw her heightened colour, he added “Yo’re a foreigner, as one may say, and maybe don’t know many folk here, and yo’ve given my wench here flowers out of yo’r own hand;—yo may come if yo like.”
The passage with the Vashti allusion gives us a glimpse of Margaret’s feminist side. She does not like the idea of women being paraded for their looks.
Captain Lennox was always extremely kind and brotherly to Margaret. She was really very fond of him, excepting when he was anxiously attentive to Edith’s dress and appearance, with a view to her beauty making a sufficient impression on the world. Then all the latent Vashti in Margaret was roused, and she could hardly keep herself from expressing her feelings.
Margaret is also frustrated with the way the upper class women buy into the image thing, “criticising each other’s dresses” and competing over what they have. Her observations on the women at the Thornton party make them sound like Victorian Regina Georges:
"…the ladies were so dull, papa—oh, so dull! Yet I think it was clever too. It reminded me of our old game of having each so many nouns to introduce into a sentence.”
“What do you mean, child?” asked Mr. Hale.
“Why, they took nouns that were signs of things which gave evidence of wealth,—housekeepers, under-gardeners, extent of glass, valuable lace, diamonds, and all such things; and each one formed her speech so as to bring them all in, in the prettiest accidental manner possible.”
Margaret likes a different sort of conversation:
She was glad when the gentlemen came, not merely because she caught her father’s eye to brighten her sleepiness up; but because she could listen to something larger and grander than the petty interests which the ladies had been talking about. She liked the exultation in the sense of power which these Milton men had. It might be rather rampant in its display, and savour of boasting; but still they seemed to defy the old limits of possibility, in a kind of fine intoxication, caused by the recollection of what had been achieved, and what yet should be. If in her cooler moments she might not approve of the spirit in all things, still there was much to admire in their forgetfulness of themselves and the present, in their anticipated triumphs over all inanimate matter at some future time which none of them would live to see.
It occurs to me that much of Margaret’s above opinion could have been thought by Mrs. Thornton as well. She and Margaret are more alike than either would care to admit. Every other upper class woman in the novel – from Mrs. Hale to Fanny to Edith to Aunt Shaw – has, for the most part, “petty interests.”
The BBC Gaskell “North and South” is a limited mini-series – just four episodes. So if you were able to watch all four, you’re good – no second season!
Edited to add: I just watched the trailer for the 1975 Patrick Stewart version. Bleccch.
The second half of the book definitely moves faster than the first. I don’t know if it’s because the plot picks up a bit or because by then you’re in the swing of the language. Maybe a little of both.
Yes, a very abrupt ending! I need someone to write some decent fan fiction about what happens after Margaret and Mr. Thornton walk out of that room. Margaret’s aunt and cousin don’t even know that the two of them have more than a passing acquaintance. How shocked they would be!
I go back and forth on Henry Lennox. He clearly saw the writing on the wall (once he knew how Margaret’s financial plans involved Thornton). So did he skip the meeting in hopes that Thornton would leave, not expecting him and Margaret to be so inappropriate as to meet together behind closed doors? Or did he skip the meeting to give Margaret and Thornton that very opportunity? I lean toward the former because I think of Lennox as more inclined to be a disruptor (so as to give himself another shot) rather than a matchmaker.
Interesting, I thought it was definitely the latter for Lennox. He knew it was hopeless. I did not like the way that was set up at all. With an omniscient narrator there was no need to not let us know what Margaret was up to. It felt like cheating to me. The mini-series handled it a bit differently. (Margaret goes up north to make arrangements and then everything gets settled in a train station with poor Lennox looking sad for himself, but happy for them.)
Perhaps it’s the cynic in me, or perhaps it’s because I didn’t watch the mini-series, but I wasn’t really feeling the love. At least, it didn’t seem to be developing in a healthy way. Some notes I jotted down while reading the book:
Love means changing my opinion about somebody because he got me off the legal hook and I feel ashamed and guilty. I will make it up to him by falling in love. (Incidentally, when the stress becomes overwhelming for Margaret and she swoons, she does it alone and no one noticed. Didn’t she get the memo that you’re supposed to swoon into the guy’s arms?)
Love means being so obsessed with somebody’s looks that even though I think she’s happily in love and together with another man and sometimes I hate her, I still moon over her and want to help her. (Incidentally this feels like a dangerous kind of love.)
Coming back to the book after a short break, I noted: He still hate/loves her; she still guilt/loves him.
I also noted a mommy syndrome - even though anyone half sensible can tell that mother hates my beloved and will do anything to sabotage the relationship, I keep putting them together. I’m sure it will all work out with the surprise engagement where my new wife’s money saves mother’s lifestyle…she’ll be soooo grateful.