"One more word. You look as if you thought it tainted you to be loved by me. You cannot avoid it. Nay, I if I would, cannot cleanse you from it. But I would not, if I could. I have never loved any woman before: my life has been too busy, my thoughts too much absorbed with other things. Now I love, and will love. But do not be afraid of too much expression on my part."
-North and South
I hope it does not spoil things to reveal that the preceding passage comes at the end of a botched proposal of marriage. If you're not familiar with the story of North and South*, I'm not sure how to better describe it except Pride and Prejudice (with its own famous trainwreck of a proposal) by way of Dickens. Now, Gaskell's prose is not as lively as Austen's, nor as rich as that of Dickens. (I don't want to oversell it.) But the comparison is inevitable: North and South could just as easily be entitled Pride and Prejudice: Industrial Edition.
Margaret Hale is representing the South. She's from the countryside, and unexpectedly finds herself relocating to the factory town of Milton after her father, a curate, suffers a crisis of faith. Milton is smoky, loud, and populated with a very different sort of people than Margaret is used to (and not just because of their delightful accents). Then she meets Mr. Thornton.
Mr. Thornton (representing the North, in case that was unclear) is the wealthy and well-respected proprietor of a local cotton factory. He and Margaret clash early and often. Margaret, still narrow-minded in her views of trade, does not consider him to be a gentleman. And Mr. Thornton thinks her far too (wait for it) proud. But, interestingly, the bulk of their argument revolves around labor issues. Okay, maybe that doesn't sound interesting. But the fact that their issues revolve around a matter of substance is what puts North and South apart from so many of the common "opposites attract" stories.
The other threads of the novel aren't quite as engaging. Margaret begins to form a tentative friendship with a sickly former-factory girl, whose constant refrain about her imminent journey to Holy Jerusalem is wearying, although not necessarily inaccurate. Margaret also deals with her surprisingly needy parents and with the case of her wayward brother, who has been accused of mutiny. The latter storyline is broached with perhaps one of the most ham-fisted instances of exposition I've ever read, to wit:
"Poor Frederick," thought she, sighing. "Oh! if Frederick had but been a clergyman, instead of going into the navy, and being lost to us all! I wish I knew all about it. I never understood it from Aunt Shaw; I only knew he could not come back to England because of that terrible affair."
So yes, it's a bit dated in terms of phrasing and language. For some reason I only very rarely get that impression from Dickens, although he and Gaskell were contemporaries. (According to my edition of the book, Dickens thought North and South was "[an] admirable story...full of character and power.") Of course, Dickens is rather short on grand romance.
In my previous post, I alluded to the fact that Mr. Thornton is possibly more swoonworthy than the much more famous Mr. Darcy. Naturally, it's a matter of taste. I think Mr. Thornton's biggest asset is that he's a self-made man. He's very capable, and he's eager to better himself (he takes classics lessons with Mr. Hale). Not that Darcy isn't accomplished...but what does he do all day? In addition, we as readers actually spend more time with Mr. Thornton, and get a better sense of his feelings. Some people are a bit leery of angst (and after Twilight, I well understood that feeling), but really, how can you argue with passages like this:
[Mr. Thorton] turned round to his mother; his face was very gray and grim. "Yes, mother. I do believe he is her lover." When he had spoken, he turned round again; he writhed himself about, like one in bodily pain. He leant his face against his hand.
Ah, jealousy (he's mistaken, of course). I don't remember Darcy writhing around, feeling the pain of his love. That's pretty intense.
Mr. Thornton is somewhat different in the miniseries, which stars Daniela Denby-Ashe and Richard Armitage. I'm not planning on doing a separate post on it, as I haven't seen it recently enough - I actually watched it before I read the book the first time. I did rewatch the first episode, though, and was struck with how, uh, violent** Mr. Thornton is in the miniseries. It's a bit of a leap from the book's Thornton, who prides himself in keeping his emotions in check (writhing aside). Other than that, I would say that in most regards the miniseries is more enjoyable than the book. The ending is changed substantially for the better, and some of the gloom of the book (people die off fairly regularly) is toned down.
Up next: I'm going to try The Burnt Orange Heresy by Charles Willeford, which is favorite of my dad's.
*Like many classics, North and South has an utterly dull cover in pretty much every edition. Thus I substituted another miniseries picture, which I find more aesthetically pleasing.
**Perhaps I shouldn't find the violent turn of the miniseries surprising. After all, very shortly thereafter Mr. Thorton grew out his hair, traveled back in time, and happily spent his days as the evil henchman of the Sheriff of Nottingham.
No comments:
Post a Comment