George Eliot
1819-1880
George Eliot (Mary Anne Evans) grew up in the countryside in Chilvers Coton, Warwickshire, daughter of a conservative estate manager. She had a good education, although she was also self-taught. She early abandoned her evangelical upbringing, although she remained in her father's house until he died, acting as the head of the household in place of her deceased mother.
George Eliot's real story begins once she left home. She moved to London and began editing the Westminster Review. She boarded with the head of the journal, John Chapman, in what evolved into an uncomfortable menage-a-quattre with the editor, his wife, and his mistress. The latter two, sensing competition, joined forces to oust the newcomer. This period, however, served as her entre into literary society, and also provided her with a literary apprenticeship.
After some abortive relationships with various men, some married, some not, Eliot settled on George Henry Lewes, a literary and scientific figure who had an open marriage and was supporting an ever-increasing brood of the children of his wife's liaison. In spite of these daunting circumstances, the pair eloped to Germany together and thereafter considered themselves married. Lewes was unable to seek a divorce because he had raised his wife's children as his own - according to English law, once a man has done so, he cannot seek divorce for adultery. This was financially hard on Lewes, who was the sole support of the prodigiously fertile Agnes, but it was social death to Eliot. Her much-loved brother disowned her, and respectable women could no longer visit her. There were a few exceptions to this: her long-time friends the Brays, and the bold and faithful Barbara Leigh Smith Bodichon, among them.
In spite of Eliot's social non-existence, the union was
extremely fruitful. Eliot was able to continue working, since she had
always written
under a (usually male) pseudonym, and she and Lewes got along smashingly.
In fact, it was Lewes who urges her to try writing fiction, and who arranged for
publication. Moreover, he continued to midwife Eliot through the process
of literary creation, filtering reviews and criticism (Eliot was highly
sensitive to criticism) and acting as a sounding board. They shared and
expanded one another's literary, scientific, and philosophical interests, and
traveled Europe together. They were also both prone to ill health,
in which they alternated tending one another.
Eliot's first work was Scenes of Clerical Life, a set of unconnected novellas set in the countryside (much resembling Warwickshire) each involving a man of the cloth, though not necessarily in his professional capacities. The works were very popular, touching off much speculation as to the true identity of the author, whom most people assumed was a man. Interestingly, Dickens, who greatly admired her work, immediately intuited that the author was a woman.
Scenes of Clerical Life was followed by Adam Bede, The Mill on the Floss, and Silas Marner. The first of these was controversial in that it, like Gaskell's Ruth, included a character who had been seduced, also by a heedless wealthy young man. Unlike Ruth, Hetty Sorrel is portrayed very realistically, but also sympathetically. We do not, however, get to witness Hetty's rehabilitation, which occurs after the close of the book. Thus while the principle moral being urged by Ruth is the reclaimability of fallen women, Adam Bede has more to do with how they became fallen in the first place. Neither deals with actual prostitution. The Mill on the Floss is the most autobiographical of Eliot's novels, and continues to be extremely popular. It is the story of a rebellious young girl and the catastrophic results of her attempts to be true to herself.
Eliot's next two novels, Felix Holt, the Radical, and Romola, are probably her least popular. The former is frequently dubbed her "political novel," although, like most of Eliot's work it is really concerned with morality and responsibility. The latter is her historical romance, set in Renaissance Italy. It shares the theme of unhappy marriage with Middlemarch, as well as the heroine's search for a just and noble path. It is muddied, however, by its excessive political and historical detail, and the conclusion is disappointing for the modern reader.
Following these came Middlemarch, considered by most to be Eliot's magnum opus. It explores the connections between the individuals in the fictional region of Middlemarch, and examines their moral failures and triumphs, and the choices that determine their destinies. Like The Mill on the Floss, it contains an ambitious and thwarted heroine, and like most of Eliot's books, it is distinguished for its remarkable ability to make the reader sympathize with with all of the characters, while still making strong statements about their ethics. The characters Eliot creates in this novel are among the most credible and vivid in the English language. In the detail of their psychological accuracy and sensitivity, they rival Tolstoy.
After Middlemarch, Eliot wrote one last novel, Daniel
Deronda, plus some shorter pieces. Daniel Deronda is the most
undeservedly under-read among Eliot's works. It shares the power of
characterization of Middlemarch, and continues to explore quasi-feminist 
territory.
Like both Middlemarch and Romola, it is about the moral growth of
a gifted heroine, and it critiques marriage. It also unusual among
Victorian fiction for its sympathetic exploration of Jewish culture and its
exposure of Victorian prejudice
From the perspective of many feminists, Eliot is a disappointment. None of her brilliant, gifted, beautiful, philosophical characters usurp male roles, demand the vote, petition for divorce, or verbalize the inequity of gender codes. There are two problems with this criticism: the first is that it implies that Eliot was under some sort of obligation to produce feminist works, which of course she was not; and the second is that is superimposes modern ideas of feminism on a 19th-century writer. Harriet Martineau said explicitly that the best way to serve the cause of women is "for us all to learn and try to the utmost what we can do, and thus win for ourselves the consideration which alone can secure us rational treatment" (Autobiography v.2 402). Many women who supported the expansion of women's roles and rights believed in a gradualist approach whereby women would subtly win the respect of men and naturally, without conflict, become emancipated. Eliot herself explained to Bodichon that she felt that she could serve the cause best as an artist rather than an activist. Consequently, when we look for feminism in Eliot, we have to look for a much more subtle approach than, for example, the Pankhursts, or even Emily Davies. One way that we can see Eliot acting as an advocate for her gender is in her creation of such exemplary yet believable heroines. They are an implicit argument for women's capacities. Moreover, her realist approach requires true-to-life endings for her heroines. Indeed, insofar as they leave the reader unsatisfied, they actually have greater consciousness-raising effect than a more straightforwardly "feminist" storyline would do. By denying us catharsis at the end of her novels, Eliot returns us to the real world with a sense of discontent that might translate into activism and protest on our part. Finally, in considering Eliot's feminism or lack thereof, it is important to bear in mind that many 19th-century proto-feminists believed that there was an essential feminine nature, and that they valued that nature and believed it was necessary for civilization. Consequently, many women writers who were on the fringes of activism (such as Gaskell and Eliot) celebrated what appears to be a fairly traditional interpretation of femininity. Eliot's heroines, for example, practice the dangerous and damaging habit of self-abnegation, and Gaskell's can appear unempowered and ornamental. But Eliot's characters also express the poignancy of unfulfilled potential and repressed desire, while Gaskell's argue for empowerment through femininity. By taking traditional definitions of womanhood very seriously, they are able to stretch the roles women may play in society and to command respect (see especially North and South).
