Middlemarch

Middlemarch is widely considered one of the greatest English-language novels, the equal of Moby Dick and Ulysses. It is not plot and characters that make masterpieces; those essentials ultimately matter less than use of language and the quality of the thought, two things that cannot be fully equalled on screen. But this Middlemarch is about as good as it ever gets.

Consider this sentence from Eliot, about a vain young girl in the presence of a man she wants: "Every nerve and muscle in Rosamond was adjusted to the consciousness that she was being looked at." Reading that, you feel it. Or this, about blind love: "Strange, that some of us, with quick alternate vision, see beyond our infatuations, and even while we rave on the heights, behold the wide plain where our persistent self pauses and awaits us." I could open Middlemarch at random, to any of its 800+ pages, and find sublime observations like those.

Andrew Davis (writer) and Anthony Page (director) obviously cherish Eliot's book. The tone, the pace, the mise-en-scène in England and in Rome-- all of it is superb. The principal actors, Juliet Aubrey, Rufus Sewell, Douglas Hodge, and especially Patrick Malahide bring it all to life, aided by an ensemble of British actors, most of whom were known to me because of their distinguished careers. (There are weaknesses, of course, including two young actresses, Trevyn McDowell and Rachel Power, who are just good enough).

I've read Middlemarch three times, and watched this series twice, between readings. Perhaps the greatest compliment I can give it is that the praiseworthy incarnation of Eliot's characters actually served to enhance the 2nd and 3rd reading of her remarkable novel.

George Eliot's classic was brought to life by BBC's miniseries in the early '90s. Starring Juliet Aubrey, the heroine who knows what's expected of her but can't ignore her heart, this compelling story is a must-watch (or must-read) for anyone who loves the genre. Social constraints, class structures, gossip, and daring melodrama feels right at home in this time period.

My heart completely went out to Patrick Malahide, though, so as much as I enjoyed watching this six-parter, I wasn't able to root for the other fellows. Patrick was just so sorrowful! Juliet marries him and is quickly disappointed in their marital life. He's a boring and strict reverend, but she knew exactly what she was getting when she accepted his proposal. In fact, she was drawn to his intellect from the beginning and wanted to learn from him. It turns out he's rather private and doesn't want to have lengthy, intellectual discussions with her; but is that really the end of the world?

For Juliet, it is. She wants more from her marriage. She has a brain, and she wants her husband to appreciate it as much as she does. But while she enjoys friendships with both the new doctor in town, Douglas Hodge, and her husband's cousin with a bad reputation, Rufus Sewell, it's less harmless than she thinks it is. Poor Patrick is also disappointed by his wife's behavior, and he sits at home with a broken heart when she's out galivanting and embarrassing him.

There's a lot more to this miniseries, though, and you'll be entertained by all the delightful characters and plot twists. It's always interesting to see the change in a town due to a railroad station. Progress also brings undesirable elements to an otherwise happy and peaceful community, and some people resent the modernization. You'll see Robert Hardy, Jonathan Firth, Elizabeth Spriggs, Trevyn McDowell, and more familiar faces. And does the voice of George Eliot sound familiar? It's Judi Dench!

Andrew Davies has had a very good career adapting classic novs for TV, on the back of the BBC's classic 1995 Pride and Prejudice. But Austen's book was already written almost like a film script - all he had to do was copy out the words. He tried the same trick slightly earlier in this version of perhaps the greatest English novel, but it doesn't work nearly so well.

The book depends so much on the author telling us about the characters' inner lives - something which can't just be transferred wholesale to a narrator. It seems simple but is actually almost as difficult to adapt as things like Ulysses or The Steppenwolf, and this version no more than scratches the surface. I suspect it must seem dull to those who don't know the book, certainly it didn't make anything like the splash of P&P. It must be a bit embarrassing to put on such a lavish production and get only one BAFTA nomination, for the music.

The cast is good and two in particular are perfect: Patrick Malahide as Casaubon and Rufus Sewell in his breakthrough role as Ladislaw - he has never suited any other part quite so well. Juliet Aubrey, sadly, comes nowhere near doing justice to Dorothea, one of the most attractive heroines in literature; she has the earnestness but not the luminousness.

It was originally a BBC production, but I gather from these reviews that Masterpiece Theater added a voiceover for the benefit of you dumb Yanks, eh? :)

I'm reading MM for about the 5th time - agreeing with whoever it was who said it's one of the really great 'grown-up' novels.

I looked up the TV movie as well (first time since it was released) and it holds up wonderfully well - mainly because it sticks to well to the text - or at least to a stripped-down version of the text. Almost all the characterization is first-rate.

The only thing that gave me pause was Patrick Malahide. A fine actor, but he struck me as both too young and too 'human' for Casaubon; in fact rather 'acting' the part of an older man and a monster of egotism. Can one imagine him writing that truly appalling letter of proposal to Dorothea? I don't think so.

To be honest, I don't think it's possible to translate the richness, depth and refinement of the book Middlemarch to the screen. A narrator gives the most beautiful comments, which is why this book is such high-class literature. The narrator was 'George Eliot', of course, and she was so wise, funny and compassionate that the story is reduced to half without her comments.

It's remarkable how George Eliot has set up Middlemarch. Usually, the narrator is on the outside of the story, and the events that take place with the characters make the story. But not in this case. The narrator is on the inside. He knows about life, psychology, philosophy, religion and spirituality, and he connects all this knowledge to the small lifes of the characters.

So, without the narrator, what's left is precisely this TV adaptation. It's the outside of the story. It shows the most beautiful clothes, gardens, coaches, china, townhouses, and music. The actors tell the story by saying the words their characters do and mimicking the feelings that go along with them. It's not bad at all. But it misses the heart, the inside.

How can we get to the inside of all the marriages without the narrator? How can we get to the personalities of all the characters without the narrator? It's simply not possible in this case. Maybe, with some class A actors we had a better chance, but that's not the case, unfortunately. So, like the characters without the narrator, we stumble through this adaption, which is remarkably fitting in a way.

If you like to see the outside of this story, watch this series. But if you want to see the whole package, please read the book.