Quietly but potently, the lives of Middlemarch characters invaded my mind in every interval I took from reading; they have still remained there ever since.
It’s been a long time since I couldn’t suppress myself from flipping to read the ending of the book in the middle of the way. This is also my first time reading a novel by George Eliot, whom now easily becomes one of my few favorite writers. Her Middlemarch is rich in philosophical aspect and its language is the definition of exquisite.
The story of a mere idealistic, noble girl who ardously wanted to do some great thing has now been a clichéd theme to me, and had it not been because I wanted to see how differently George Eliot would have executed it, I wouldn’t have had touched the book unless I had nothing else more interesting to read. But to my great joy, the trial of Dorothea Brooke was written and presented in such a way that was simply and sensibly captivating, and before I knew it I was entirely charmed and full of admiration for the girl. Many other characters are also very lovable, even the vain and shallow Rosamond Vincy impressed me so much with the depth of her vanity.
I could read only a few pages a day, but with Middlemarch I neither felt disengaged nor wanted to drop the book, not even once.
