Tragic, acerbic, instructive, and exquisite: Adam Bede is the first novel I have read this year which has managed to pry a five-star rating from my reluctant, miserly hands. Even after two whole weeks poring over this tome of a book, I find myself reluctant to step away from the meticulously illustrated, almost inhabitable world of Eliot’s debut.
Eliot’s writing style is phenomenal, flourishing off the pages and enveloping the reader in its genius. The scenes that make up this novel are painted from a palette coloured by impeccable shades: dusty apple red, filmy magnolia, burnished copper, and voluptuously verdant green. But not only is her style rich in beauty, it is also rich in detail, as the reader’s attention is drawn towards facts such as what exactly the characters are eating for breakfast, facts which other novelists might omit for fear that they are insignificant. However, it is this intricate gossamer web of detail which gives Eliot’s world its striking authenticity, to the point where it seems tangible. It is, in fact, so captivating and immersive that when Eliot describes the sunshine beating down on the characters’ faces, the reader is overcome by similar warmth.
One of my favourite things about Adam Bede is its cast of characters. Eliot analyses with scrupulous scrutiny many different sets of outlooks, values, and motivations, and the result is that each main character, at least, becomes incredibly palpable and human. This is not to say the secondary characters are to be overlooked. With an unfathomable deftness which can only be likened to Austen’s, Eliot presents to us the farmers, artisans, servants, and gentry who together make up the tragedy’s chorus. But whilst these characters could be said to act as both a microcosm and mouthpiece for society, they are also incredibly unique and complex individuals in their own rights. In fact (although I loved the story of Adam Bede) I could just as happily read a book following the less central character of Mrs Poyser. Actually, I could read a book series about Mrs Poyser…
At the beginning of the second volume, Eliot pauses the narrative to state that in her writing, she aims to foreground “the common labourer” and “those old women scraping carrots with their work-worn hands” as opposed to those living more glamorous lives, far more compelling to most artists. I believe Eliot succeeds in this. In its representation of the rural poor, Adam Bede is a novel which places those often excluded from art and literature at its centre, challenging the classism of the Victorian era. Societal attitudes towards gender are also heavily critiqued, as Eliot discusses the sexual double standards between men and women, and the misogynistic Bartle Massey is sufficiently chastised by Mrs Poyser. Marginalisation — of both the working-class and of women — is a central theme within this book, and I believe it is reflected ingeniously by how significant Eliot’s ‘side-characters’ are, and how significant the mundane details like what the characters had for breakfast are, in enhancing the novel’s overall depth and authenticity. The novel would not be such a masterpiece were it not for the marginal details and characters.
So in conclusion, I just have to give Adam Bede five stars, and I’m going to be recommending it to everybody. It might take you a while to get through, but it is well worth your time. You will get so much out of this book, from the elaborate writing and characterisation, but also from the lessons it teaches — sometimes firm, but ultimately uplifting. I don’t want to give too much away and ramble on about them now, as like the characters the reader should learn them as they go along…
I’m reading Amy Dilwyn’s Jill at the moment. It couldn’t be more different to Adam Bede. In fact, it couldn’t be more different to any Victorian novel I’ve ever read before! I’ll be posting my review in the near future, so please stay tuned.
Pensive Paperbacks 