Yule is nothing, if not consistent. Marian, in her way too, has taken on some of the characteristics of her bull-headed father. And even the poor friendless surgeon who has lost everything, what are we to make of him? He works for free, so it's hard to sympathize with him too. He needs more belief in his worth. There is so much wrong in this world, it's a wonder anybody can find any will to live. Morale is low, and one is put in mind of Chekhov's "Misery". "Catastrophe" might be stretching it, Mr. Gissing. I mean, to the world this is mere child's play. We are God's playthings.
"Their eyes met, and the look of each seemed to fascinate the other." Like Yiyun Li, this is the very line that struck me. A chill and a thrill is exactly right in describing the feeling it evokes.
Alfred Yule's kindness to Victor Duke. I have seen that this phenomenon among humans of one being kind to strangers and cruel to loved ones is not as unusual as one might think.
I was touched by the simple plea of Victor Duke: “… a shabbily-dressed man of middle age, whose face did not correspond with his attire": ‘Will you give me a cup of coffee?’ asked the stranger, in a low voice and with shamefaced manner. ‘It would be a great kindness.’ And his implicit dignity: ‘Don’t suppose that I am still of unsound mind. There can be little doubt that poverty will bring me to that again in the end; but as yet I am perfectly sane.' Gissing beautifully captures an essential aspect of one's humanity in his development of Duke's "detached curiosity concerning the difficulties of his position." His life's story is a true "catastrophe" - and yet, he hangs on "matter-of-factly" with a bemused dignity to his sanity (for as long as possible). He feels a bit "Biffen-esque" to me.
This side story fascinated me too! Yule possibly feels it easier to be gracious (on the surface) to those he considers “beneath” him. A sadly common trait. Only to this man he will likely never see again can Yule show his vulnerabilities.
They say life turns on a dime. Three life-changing events here in one chapter—Alfred’s eyesight problem, Victor Duke’s train crash, the loss of Marian’s fortune. It’s the story of how characters deal with calamity that will be of interest in the rest of the book.
There is so much compressed in this chapter. My heart and mind grows beyond the confines of the story’s detail as I think of the perceived power and luxury of being hard and cruel to those we love Forgetting our gratitude as the world collapses around us.
Perhaps living so much of one's life with undisputed power over the other people in your household results in a personality that is not required to mature. Alfred resorts to blustering ultimatums in order to exact pain, but he lashes out without adult foresight and his words carve a tragic chasm through his already tenuous little family. "He had yielded himself to that perverse frenzy which impels a man to acts and utterances most wildly at conflict with reason."
Alfred's self-pity and practice of blaming others for his own shortcomings contribute to his inability to forgive himself for his failures and by extension his inability to forgive others. "He had no distinct feeling with regard to his behavior of the past evening; he neither justified nor condemned himself..."
As for Marian's loss of her inheritance - I think we had braced ourselves for the possibility of unhatched chickens...
I agree completely with what you say here. It is a lack of maturity that is the direct result of access to unfettered power, at least at home. And bringing the frustrations of work outside the home back home. Alfred Yule is a perfect example of that.
It puts me in mind of Woolf's portrait of her father in To the Lighthouse. As an exploration of that phenomenon that too many women and children suffered under.
Great connection! That father in TTL whose metaphor was the “scrubbed wooden table.” How different these two novels are in subject matter, movement, and setting, but the study of character hinging them together feels similar.
I also agree. Why-oh-why is undisputed power such a masculine (often, not always!) pursuit - particularly, given the consequent alienation, dissatisfaction, and "blindness" that so often ensues?
While Marian's loss of inheritance may have been a foregone conclusion (love the image of of "unhatched chickens"), Gissing's description of Marian: “Her face, outlined to express a gentle gravity, was now haughtily passionate; nostrils and lips thrilled with wrath, and her eyes magnificent in their dark fieriness,” left me with a whisper of hope that Marian might channel her "haughty passion" and "dark fieriness" to recognize not only the injustice of her father's inner (and outer) "madman" - and what he owes her - but also allow her "magnificent" eyes to see the hypocrisy in Jasper's words and behavior. If only she could truly find, claim, and embrace a "room of one's own!" Or, alternatively, "pack a bag and make her way to Paris" (a fine vision Amanda!)
I had occasional to hear “Paperback Writer” by the Beatles yesterday. It was inspired by an aunt of Paul McCartney’s who encouraged him to write something other than ‘silly love songs’, to quote a subsequent lyric. He apparently came across Ringo reading a book and a song was born.
What’s fun is that the lyrics condense a large part of our novel into just four very descriptive verses.
Though it’s awful, it’s a bit of relief that Marian’s bequest has disappeared. Once we learned that the source was a specific debt, it seemed inevitable that it would not materialize. We no longer need to hold our breath and can see what happens. Gissing is quite skilled at creating suspense in mundane lives.
Interesting how Gissing interposes a confirmation of Alfred's impending loss of eyesight between the two letters. Alfred's enormous self-pity, bitterness, and general loathsomeness aside, it is hard not to be a little sorry for him.
Until he laughs out loud at the second letter, that is.
"A burst of loud, mocking laughter."
And orders his wife/servant to "just take that letter to her."
Too cowardly to break the news of it himself, and too self-obsessed to think of what kind of effect it might have on his daughter.
I think the fineness of the sentence about their eyes is that it is not about two lovers but about a parent and a child, a father and a daughter. Rare that parents and children really look at one another with such frank curiosity.
Gissing's London is a grim, unlovely place that people remain helplessly trapped inside.
One day Marian packed a bag and made her way to Paris .. if only!
Yes! I love what you say "a grim, unlovely place that people remain helplessly trapped inside." I wonder if it would be different in Paris? I sure hope so. I guess it wasn't any different in America for Duke. Maybe America was the place to escape to at that time and Gissing is giving us that side story to say - see, you can't even run away somewhere else! Grim indeed.
I wonder if it would be different? I kind of hate how Gissing seems to close off possibilities for his characters. Maybe it's realism at work but it feels so deadly.
Marian: “I have a right to happiness, as well as other women.”
The loss of her 5000 pounds has been the most affecting blow for me as a reader. I’m guessing Jasper’s promises will disappear with the money. While the other characters have had their own pride or fantasies to partially blame for their fall, Marian’s ‘weaknesses’ have been to fall in love and to hope. I’m waiting impatiently to see what Gissing will say through her responses and reactions to even more suffering.
Other suspense: Does Reardon have TB? Will Maude go over to the Mrs Lane dark side? Will Amy and Jasper get together? Will Marian lead a miserable life catering to her blind father?
Though he is a brute, Alfred Yule's evening foray into the poor section fascinated me. His antipathy for Milvain may stem from his similarity to him. He has no problem thinking of using Marion for her money. He also has fantasies of writing to get ahead. It's never clear if he is a good writer or a competent writer and if he cares. He also, like Milvain, has women doing work for him. Though less sparkly and less youthful, he even admits his faults with a bit of humor. Such as: "“My ignorance of scientific matters is fathomless.”
This interaction with the mysterious, tragic doctor becomes a strange, dark side story. Mental asylums, train wrecks and all.
I love that phrase “ejaculated spenetic phrases” and also earlier, “he prosed for quarter of an hour.”
Yule is nothing, if not consistent. Marian, in her way too, has taken on some of the characteristics of her bull-headed father. And even the poor friendless surgeon who has lost everything, what are we to make of him? He works for free, so it's hard to sympathize with him too. He needs more belief in his worth. There is so much wrong in this world, it's a wonder anybody can find any will to live. Morale is low, and one is put in mind of Chekhov's "Misery". "Catastrophe" might be stretching it, Mr. Gissing. I mean, to the world this is mere child's play. We are God's playthings.
"Their eyes met, and the look of each seemed to fascinate the other." Like Yiyun Li, this is the very line that struck me. A chill and a thrill is exactly right in describing the feeling it evokes.
Alfred Yule's kindness to Victor Duke. I have seen that this phenomenon among humans of one being kind to strangers and cruel to loved ones is not as unusual as one might think.
How on earth have we survived as a species if we are willing to eat our young! And yet, we see it every day!! AGHH!!
I was touched by the simple plea of Victor Duke: “… a shabbily-dressed man of middle age, whose face did not correspond with his attire": ‘Will you give me a cup of coffee?’ asked the stranger, in a low voice and with shamefaced manner. ‘It would be a great kindness.’ And his implicit dignity: ‘Don’t suppose that I am still of unsound mind. There can be little doubt that poverty will bring me to that again in the end; but as yet I am perfectly sane.' Gissing beautifully captures an essential aspect of one's humanity in his development of Duke's "detached curiosity concerning the difficulties of his position." His life's story is a true "catastrophe" - and yet, he hangs on "matter-of-factly" with a bemused dignity to his sanity (for as long as possible). He feels a bit "Biffen-esque" to me.
This side story fascinated me too! Yule possibly feels it easier to be gracious (on the surface) to those he considers “beneath” him. A sadly common trait. Only to this man he will likely never see again can Yule show his vulnerabilities.
They say life turns on a dime. Three life-changing events here in one chapter—Alfred’s eyesight problem, Victor Duke’s train crash, the loss of Marian’s fortune. It’s the story of how characters deal with calamity that will be of interest in the rest of the book.
There is so much compressed in this chapter. My heart and mind grows beyond the confines of the story’s detail as I think of the perceived power and luxury of being hard and cruel to those we love Forgetting our gratitude as the world collapses around us.
Perhaps living so much of one's life with undisputed power over the other people in your household results in a personality that is not required to mature. Alfred resorts to blustering ultimatums in order to exact pain, but he lashes out without adult foresight and his words carve a tragic chasm through his already tenuous little family. "He had yielded himself to that perverse frenzy which impels a man to acts and utterances most wildly at conflict with reason."
Alfred's self-pity and practice of blaming others for his own shortcomings contribute to his inability to forgive himself for his failures and by extension his inability to forgive others. "He had no distinct feeling with regard to his behavior of the past evening; he neither justified nor condemned himself..."
As for Marian's loss of her inheritance - I think we had braced ourselves for the possibility of unhatched chickens...
I agree completely with what you say here. It is a lack of maturity that is the direct result of access to unfettered power, at least at home. And bringing the frustrations of work outside the home back home. Alfred Yule is a perfect example of that.
It puts me in mind of Woolf's portrait of her father in To the Lighthouse. As an exploration of that phenomenon that too many women and children suffered under.
Great call re: the comparison with Mr. Ramsey! Though if we are judging on ruthlessness, hands down, I pick Alfred Yule as the winner.
Hmmmmmm... okay, yes, I think I agree! However I also think it's close .. !
Great connection! That father in TTL whose metaphor was the “scrubbed wooden table.” How different these two novels are in subject matter, movement, and setting, but the study of character hinging them together feels similar.
I also agree. Why-oh-why is undisputed power such a masculine (often, not always!) pursuit - particularly, given the consequent alienation, dissatisfaction, and "blindness" that so often ensues?
While Marian's loss of inheritance may have been a foregone conclusion (love the image of of "unhatched chickens"), Gissing's description of Marian: “Her face, outlined to express a gentle gravity, was now haughtily passionate; nostrils and lips thrilled with wrath, and her eyes magnificent in their dark fieriness,” left me with a whisper of hope that Marian might channel her "haughty passion" and "dark fieriness" to recognize not only the injustice of her father's inner (and outer) "madman" - and what he owes her - but also allow her "magnificent" eyes to see the hypocrisy in Jasper's words and behavior. If only she could truly find, claim, and embrace a "room of one's own!" Or, alternatively, "pack a bag and make her way to Paris" (a fine vision Amanda!)
I had occasional to hear “Paperback Writer” by the Beatles yesterday. It was inspired by an aunt of Paul McCartney’s who encouraged him to write something other than ‘silly love songs’, to quote a subsequent lyric. He apparently came across Ringo reading a book and a song was born.
What’s fun is that the lyrics condense a large part of our novel into just four very descriptive verses.
I remember the song, but had to look up the lyrics. Thanks!
Ahhh, too perfect! What a serendipitous connection!
Great connection!
Though it’s awful, it’s a bit of relief that Marian’s bequest has disappeared. Once we learned that the source was a specific debt, it seemed inevitable that it would not materialize. We no longer need to hold our breath and can see what happens. Gissing is quite skilled at creating suspense in mundane lives.
Interesting how Gissing interposes a confirmation of Alfred's impending loss of eyesight between the two letters. Alfred's enormous self-pity, bitterness, and general loathsomeness aside, it is hard not to be a little sorry for him.
Until he laughs out loud at the second letter, that is.
"A burst of loud, mocking laughter."
And orders his wife/servant to "just take that letter to her."
Too cowardly to break the news of it himself, and too self-obsessed to think of what kind of effect it might have on his daughter.
I think the fineness of the sentence about their eyes is that it is not about two lovers but about a parent and a child, a father and a daughter. Rare that parents and children really look at one another with such frank curiosity.
Gissing's London is a grim, unlovely place that people remain helplessly trapped inside.
One day Marian packed a bag and made her way to Paris .. if only!
Yes! I love what you say "a grim, unlovely place that people remain helplessly trapped inside." I wonder if it would be different in Paris? I sure hope so. I guess it wasn't any different in America for Duke. Maybe America was the place to escape to at that time and Gissing is giving us that side story to say - see, you can't even run away somewhere else! Grim indeed.
I wonder if it would be different? I kind of hate how Gissing seems to close off possibilities for his characters. Maybe it's realism at work but it feels so deadly.
It’s astonishing how much pleasure Mr. Yule takes in his daughter’s misfortune...
Marian: “I have a right to happiness, as well as other women.”
The loss of her 5000 pounds has been the most affecting blow for me as a reader. I’m guessing Jasper’s promises will disappear with the money. While the other characters have had their own pride or fantasies to partially blame for their fall, Marian’s ‘weaknesses’ have been to fall in love and to hope. I’m waiting impatiently to see what Gissing will say through her responses and reactions to even more suffering.
Other suspense: Does Reardon have TB? Will Maude go over to the Mrs Lane dark side? Will Amy and Jasper get together? Will Marian lead a miserable life catering to her blind father?
Will Biffen’s book get published? Whelpdale and Dora?
https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/books/g42622809/best-books-2023/
Yiyun Li is on this list
Me too!
Brava Yiyun! And thanks for sharing the list, Mark.
Congratulations and much deserved I’m sure.
That’s great!
Congratulations Yiyun! Thanks for sharing Mark.
Though he is a brute, Alfred Yule's evening foray into the poor section fascinated me. His antipathy for Milvain may stem from his similarity to him. He has no problem thinking of using Marion for her money. He also has fantasies of writing to get ahead. It's never clear if he is a good writer or a competent writer and if he cares. He also, like Milvain, has women doing work for him. Though less sparkly and less youthful, he even admits his faults with a bit of humor. Such as: "“My ignorance of scientific matters is fathomless.”
This interaction with the mysterious, tragic doctor becomes a strange, dark side story. Mental asylums, train wrecks and all.