England in the early 19th century, where folklore
and religious belief shape people’s lives.
Silas Marner, a trusting soul and master weaver, begins a new life after
he is betrayed by his best friend and is forced to leave the village and church
he has grown up with.
A victim of his deteriorating appearance, unsociable
attitude and growing cynicism, he lives as a hermit and collects his gold as
though there were nothing else of value in the world.
One day, the unthinkable happens – he is robbed – and he is
left distraught. But, as in every
fairytale, there is a turn in his luck and with the arrival of a child,
orphaned on the road side, he begins to feel the love and joy that have been missing
from his life.
The plot is balanced and satisfying without being
sentimental. The characters are
portrayed convincingly – there are those we can detest and those we can
admire. But what I enjoyed too was the historical
aspect of the story. The setting is
rural England, in the Midlands and the harsh climate and rugged scenery bring
out the empathy we develop for Silas Marner as he struggles to escape his
cloistered existence and find a reason to live.
Raveloe is peopled with an authentic mix of landowners,
farmers and trades folk. It’s
fascinating to follow the various social workings of a small and largely
principled village community. What
strikes the reader is the pleasing simplicity of the work/life ethic by which
inhabitants are judged and valued.
Religion is the guiding star, of course, closely followed by
superstition and folklore. Life in
Raveloe is hard, but there is an interdependence between the villagers and a
generosity that would be difficult to find in a more modern society.
What I enjoy most about George Eliot’s very accomplished
work is a feeling of proximity to the characters and their environment, both
physical and philosophical. I sit by the fire with the protagonist and
accompany him along the difficult road to his personal epiphany. And this, without undue sentimentality.
The workings of the early 19th century mind are
uncluttered by technology, travel or consumerism. The people of Raveloe spend their time in search of a life that
is both rewarding and, it seems to me, ethically justifiable. Apart, of course, from Dunstan Cass – there
has to be a fiend in a story worth reading, after all.
To finish, I have to say that the language of Silas Marner
is at times a challenge. As a linguist,
I welcome the challenge of a syntax and vocabulary which is of the story’s
era. Reminiscent of Shakespeare at
times, the proverbs and sayings are clichéd, but apt. There are words that are no longer in use, although it is
perfectly possible to infer meaning.
There is, as so often is the case with writers of this time, a fashion
for writing in dialect to add colour and authenticity to the divisions in
society. All this, in my opinion, makes
Silas Marner even more of a pleasure to explore.
