He Standing Like a Perfect Piece of Art She Felt a Flutter a Warmth in Her Soul

469 reviews 272 followers

Edited June 18, 2010

Upon completion of the The Manufacturing plant on the Floss, I realized that I had but finished something monumental—a staggeringly amazing literary accomplishment. This novel, written by 'George Eliot' (Mary Anne, or Marian Evans), and first published by Blackwood and Sons in 1860, could accept but as easily been titled, "Pride and Prejudice" had not that title been put to use already. Some twenty-four hour period after finishing this book, I am coming to the conclusion that Eliot may, in fact, represent the absolute superlative of writing in the Victorian Historic period. This is non, in any way, shape, or class, a "Lightheaded novel past a Lady Novelist" (see Eliot's essay "Silly Novels past Lady Novelists," Westminster Review, Oct 1856). This novel is non of the "mind-and-millinery," "rank-and-beauty," or of the "enigmatic" species. This is a novel in the finest tradition of Realism, and I can't help simply think that information technology must take served equally some form of inspiration for the later naturalism of Thomas Hardy.

This book should really be required reading for parents and brothers and sisters. The story of the young Maggie Tulliver, and her relationship with her older brother Tom and her parents is compelling, and is i that we tin all relate to on so many levels. It warns u.s.a. that actions, things said, or beliefs instilled upon the young tin can have profound implications for years to come up.

I suppose in some respects that The Mill on the Floss tin also be considered to be the bildungsroman of Maggie Tulliver equally Eliot clearly focuses on the psychological and moral growth of Maggie, her main protagonist, from when she was a little girl until she has become a young-adult. It is the ability (or disability) of Maggie to conform to changes in her own life, and the lives of those she loves around her, that provides the principal premise of the narrative. In the spirit of full disclosure, I began to autumn in dear with Maggie early on in the novel, and loved her more with each page that I turned.

In my stance, Maggie Tulliver is one of the nigh engaging and endearing heroines that a reader volition run into in Victorian fiction. Eliot's raven-haired and dark-eyed beautiful cosmos manages to combine the goodness, sensitivity, and natural curiosity of Elizabeth Gaskell's 'Molly Gibson;' the spirit and independence of Charles Dickens's 'Bella Wilfur;' and the wit and humor of Jane Austen'south 'Elizabeth Bennet.' Maggie Tulliver has a heart the size of the sun, nearly as bright, and burns but as hotly. She wants to please everyone, all of the time; and information technology is this propensity to love and be loved that leads to her troubles. By and large though, Maggie desires more than annihilation to please her older brother Tom; and, in render, to be unconditionally loved past him.

Nosotros see an example of Maggie's spiritual and emotional maturation in her heart-felt and frank discussion with Stephen Guest, a young man who has fallen head-over-heels in honey with her, even though he is essentially 'promised' to Maggie'south cousin, Lucy Deane--

"She was silent for a few moments, with her optics stock-still on the footing; then she drew a deep breath, and said, looking upward at him with solemn sadness—

"O it is hard—life is very hard! It seems correct to me sometimes that we should follow our strongest feeling—simply then, such feelings continually come across the ties that all our former life has made for us—the ties that take made others dependent on united states of america—and would have cut them in two. If life were quite easy and simple, as it might have been in paradise, and we could e'er come across that one beingness first towards whom… I mean, if life did non make duties for u.s. earlier love comes, love would exist a sign that two people ought to belong to each other. Only I see—I feel it is not then now: there are things we must renounce in life; some of united states of america must resign dear. Many things are difficult and night to me; only I see one affair quite clearly—that I must non, cannot, seek my own happiness by sacrificing others. Love is natural; but surely compassion and faithfulness and memory are natural too. And they would alive in me even so, and punish me if I did not obey them. I should exist haunted past the suffering I had acquired. Our love would be poisoned. Don't urge me; assistance me—help me, considering I honey you."

--These are the words of a young woman that has finally institute herself, and has reconciled the passionate and intellectual sides of her spirit. Arguably one of the about eloquent and beautiful passages I've read in some time.

Finally, like Dickens does with the Thames River in his magnum opus, Our Common Friend, Eliot weaves the theme of The Floss, the river that binds together the peoples and the landscape of Maggie's world, through the novel with her employ of metaphor and allusion, and pastoral description. The novel starts with The Floss, and through the course of the book information technology is always at that place, relentlessly flowing to the sea. In some respects, The Floss represents the things we say, feelings we have, or actions we take that get away from u.s.a.; sometimes 'flowing' past us, becoming irretrievable and lost forever. Ultimately, it is this connection with The Floss that Eliot masterfully uses to bring her readers to the close of this magnificent novel culminating in the nifty climax that finally defeats pride and prejudice and brings Maggie the redemption she longs for.

writer-george-eliot british-literature everymans-library-editions

9,550 reviews 54.5k followers

Edited October 19, 2021

(Volume 879 from 1001 books) - The Mill on The Floss, George Eliot

The Manufactory on the Floss is a novel by George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans), first published in 3 volumes in 1860 by William Blackwood.

The novel spans a period of ten to 15 years and details the lives of Tom and Maggie Tulliver, siblings growing upwards at Dorlcote Factory on the River Floss at its junction with the more than minor River Ripple near the village of St. Ogg'southward in Lincolnshire, England. The river and the village are fictional. ...

This novel, based on George Eliot's own experiences of provincial life, is a masterpiece of ambiguity in which moral choice is subjected to the hypocrisy of the Victorian age.

عنوانهای چاپ شده در ایران: «آسیاب کنار فلوس»؛ «آسیاب رودخانه فلاس»؛ «آسیاب کنار فلوس»؛ نویسنده: جورج الیوت؛ انتشاراتیها (نگاه؛ واژه، مرکز، بهنود؛ آفتاب اندیشه)؛ زمان دوره ی ویکتوریا؛ تاریخ نخستین خوانش روز نهم ماه ژوئن سال1989میلادی

عنوان: آسیاب کنار فلاس، نوشته جورج الیوت، برگردان: ابراهیم یونسی، مشخصات نشر تهران، نگاه، سال1368، در 628صفحه، دارای عکس، شابک9646736416، چاپ دوم سال1381؛ چاپ سوم 1391؛ شابک9789646736412؛ موضوع داستانهای نویسندگان بریتانیا - سده 19م

عنوان: آس‍ی‍اب‌ رودخ‍ان‍ه‌ ف‍لاس‌؛ اث‍ر ج‍رج‌ ال‍ی‍وت‌؛ مت‍رج‍م پ‍ژم‍ان‌ ه‍وس‍م‍ی‌ن‍ژاد؛ ت‍ه‍ران‌: واژه‌‏‫، سال1382؛ در108ص؛ چاپ سوم سال1386؛ شابک9789645607058؛
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عنوان: آسیاب رودخانه فلاس؛ نویسنده جورج الیوت؛ مترجم: احد علیقلیان؛ تهران، نشر مرکز؛ سال1396؛ در نه و481ص؛ شابک9789642132935؛

عنوان: آسیاب روی فلوس؛ نویسنده: جورج الیوت؛ مترجمها غلامحسین اعرابی، نرگس رزاق‌پرست؛ تهران: انتشارات بهنود‏‫، سال1398؛ در89ص؛ شابک9786007511473؛

عنوان: آسیاب کنار فلوس : کوتاه شده‌ ی داستان؛ نویسنده جورج الیوت ؛ مترجم مهرناز لاجوردی؛ تهران: آفتاب اندیشه، سال1394؛ در164ص؛ شابک9789647541695؛

نقل از متن: (آقای «تالیور» یکی دو دقیقه‌ ای درنگ کرد، سپس هر دو دستش را در جیبهای شلوار فرو برد، تو گویی امیدوار بود رهنمودی در اینباره از آن ناحیه به دست آورد)؛ پایان نقل

نقل از متن: (دشتی گسترده، آنجا که فلوس گسترنده شتابان از میان کرانه های سبزش به جانب دریا پیش میرود و خیزاب زیبا، که به پیشبازش شتافته است، وی را با شور در آغوش میگیرد و از شتابش میکاهد؛ بر این جریان نیرومند کشتیهای سیاه روانند، کشتیهای سنگین از الوارهای خوشبوی کاج، کیسه های پر از دانه های روغنی، یا زغال سیاه و رخشنده؛ مقصد این محصولات شهر «سنت اوگز» است که بامهای کهنسال و سرخ و شیار شیار و شیروانیهای وسیع انبارهایش را در میان پشته ای پوشیده از درخت و کناره رود به تماشا میگذارد، در حالیکه پرتو نگاه گذرای خورشید زمستانی ته رنگی ارغوانی به آب میبخشد؛ در دوردست، از هر سو، مرغزارهای شاداب گسترده است، با قطعاتی از خاک سیاه، که برای افشاندن بذر نباتات درشت برگ، آماده شده اند، یا از هم اکنون کشت نباتات نازک برگ پائیزی، ته رنگی بدانها به وام داده است؛ بازمانده ی کومه های زرین کندوهای عسل سال پیش، هنوز در فواصل بین خاربستها به چشم میخورند، و همه جا، جای جای، درختانی این خاربستها را آراسته اند.)؛ پایان نقل

رمان«سیلاس مارنر» قصه‌ ی جذاب مرد بافنده‌ ای است که «جورج الیوت» آن را در سال1861میلادی منتشر کرد

مگی و «تام» خواهر و برادری هستند که پدرشان آقای «تالیور»، صاحب آسیاب، و مزرعه‌ ی کنار رود «فلوس» است؛ «مگی» دختری باهوش، مهربان و با استعداد است، که همیشه از برادر خود پشتیبانی می‌کند؛ اما «تام» برادر بزرگ‍تر بر خلاف «مگی»، پسری زود رنج و سخت‌گیر است، که بسیار زود خشمگین می‌شود، «تام» فرزند مورد علاقه‌ ی مادر است، چرا که مادر باور دارد که «مگی» دختری سر به هوا و دردسر ساز است؛ سال‌ها بعد زمانی که آقای «تالیور» ورشکست می‌شود؛ «مگی» عاشق پسری به نام «فیلیپ» می‌شود؛ «تام» با ازدواج «مگی» و «فیلیپ» مخالفت می‌کند، چون «فیلیپ»، پسر مردی است، که پدرشان به خاطر اختلاف با او ورشکست شده است، به همین دلیل «مگی» ناچار می‌شود، از عشق خود دست بکشد؛ اوج داستان از زمانی آغاز می‌شود، که مدتی بعد «مگی» به دیدار دخترخاله‌ ی ثروتمندش، و نامزد او می‌رود؛ اما این دیدار مشکلاتی را برای «مگی» به وجود می‌آورد که باعث طرد و منزوی شدن او، در خانواده و جامعه می‌شود؛

مگی با همه ی کولى‌وارى، و هوشمندى و ذکاوتش، و به رغم همه ی آن نيرو، و تحرکى که از خانواده ی «تاليور»، به ارث برده، دختر مادرى است درمانده، که ضعيف‌ترين عضو خانواده «دادسن» است؛ تصويرى که «البوت» از خواهران «دادسن»، و شوهرانشان میکند، خنده‌ دار، و نيشدار، و پذیرفتنی است؛ خاله «گلگ»، و خاله «پولت»، و خاله «دين»، تيپ‌هايى هستند آشنا، اينها «گماشتگان نهانى» جهان برون، در درون خانواده‌ اند؛ و اين جهان برون، جهانى است که به لحاظ نظم، و ترتيب، و ريشه‌ هاى ژرف، و پيوستگى خود، بسيار جالب است؛ ملافه‌ ها، و فنجان‌هاى چايخورى، و قهوه‌ خورى، و مرباخورى، و املاک و مستغلات، لنگرگاههاى جامعه‌ هستند، و از دست‌ رفتنشان فاجعه‌ اى بزرگ است؛

بسیار زود درمى‌يابيم، که چشم‌ انداز مرگ، هم مى‌تواند کاملا تحمل‌ ناپذير، و یا آرامبخش باشد، البته اگر آدم بداند؛ ملافه‌ اى که روى او مى‌اندازند، تا در تابوت، او را به معرض تماشاى اقوام بگذارند، اتو کشيده، و تميز و پاکيزه است، و اینکه اموال آدم نیز، بين خواهرزاده‌ ها، و برادرزاده‌ هاى خوشرفتار، بخش خواهد شد؛ اما بدبختانه «مگى» نمى‌تواند، به نحوى رفتار کند، که مورد پسند خاله‌ ها، و شوهرخاله‌ ها باشد، يا به قيافه‌ اى باشد، که آنها مى‌پسندند؛ از اینها گذشته، به لحاظ خلق و خو، و مزاج، نمى‌تواند تنها خواستار وسايل مادى باشد، و به داشتن آن وسايل خرسند باشد، و بنابراين علايق و آرزوهايش، همچنان با اين جهان تنگ‌ نظر، که رود فلوس از آنجا، کالا را، به جاهاى دوردست مى‌برد، ناهماهنگ مى‌ماند؛ و ادامه ی داستان ...؛

تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 20/09/1399هجری خورشیدی؛ 26/07/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی

1001-books 19th-century british

726 reviews

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Edited July ix, 2021

There are characters in literature who are unforgettable.
Different readers volition place different characters in the unforgettable category simply I'd imagine there are a few characters who would turn upwards on the lists of a great many readers: Anna Karenina, for example, Heathcliff, possibly, Don Quixote most definitely.
You've probably already thought of names to add to the list, world famous literary characters I've either forgotten about or never heard of, just no matter the exalted status of the characters who might figure on such a list, I'thousand at present convinced that George Eliot'south Maggie Tulliver could concord her own in the unforgettable stakes—which causes me to wonder what it is that makes a character unforgettable.
Already, looking at my ain short list, I encounter some elements that these characters take in common: existence different in their thinking and mode of living, and most strikingly, the tragic destiny they share in one way or some other (though tragic Don Quixote is memorable for his comic side too—and he managed to die safely in his own bed, attended by his faithful Sancho Panza).

But back to Maggie Tulliver. Out of the many tragic literary characters I've read about, some of whom are also marked out by difference, why do I place her immediately in the sectional 'unforgettable' grouping? And why, since she'southward such a powerful character, didn't Eliot name the volume afterwards her, as she did with Romola, Silas Marner, Adam Bede, Felix Holt and Daniel Deronda?
When I reached the end of the book, I understood Eliot's choice of title better. It'south actually a very fine title: The Factory on the Floss. Not merely is there a lilting music to it, it as well embodies the essence of the story: the intense honey Maggie felt throughout her life for her childhood home by the river. Indeed, there are some beautiful lines about the connections people experience to a 'identify' in this book, the thoughts, for case, that Eliot gives Maggie'south male parent, and which could well have been Maggie's thoughts besides, at an older age:
He couldn't bear to recollect of himself living on any other spot than this, where he knew the sound of every gate door, and felt that the shape and color of every roof and weather-stain and broken hillock was expert, because his growing senses had been fed on them.

Maggie'south growing senses are fundamental to the power she holds equally a graphic symbol, and they are the reason she is unforgettable. She lives almost as if she had no membrane to shield her nervus endings, she feels every moment of life with huge intensity—in cracking contrast to her extended family unit, the Gleggs and the Pullets, and their paltry preoccupations with nest eggs and plumage mattresses.

We get an inkling of Maggie's unusual sensitivity at the very beginning of the book which opens with an unnamed narrator dozing in an armchair, dreamily recalling a kid seen years before, a little dark-haired girl standing past the mill on the river Floss, staring intently into the water. Our attending is stock-still firmly on night-haired Maggie from that moment, and the narrator's meditation well-nigh the bloated river, which begins as a simple description of the h2o but segues into what could be the thoughts of the child contemplating information technology, traces the arc of the story in a few uncomplicated lines: The stream is brimful now, and lies high in this fiddling withy plantation, and half drowns the grassy fringe of the croft in forepart of the firm. As I look at the full stream, the vivid grass, the frail bright-green powder softening the outline of the great trunks and branches that gleam from under the blank majestic boughs I am in love with moistness, and green-eyed the white ducks that are dipping their heads far into the water here amidst the withes, unmindful of the awkward appearance they brand in the drier earth above .
(Incidentally, the narrator then disappears as a 'character', and we observe ourselves in an omniscient narration. We never discover who the narrator is, this person who claimed to remember Maggie equally a child, only we understand that it is the same narrator all the same who continues to tell us Maggie'southward story because twice in the course of the tale, the narrator gives a sign of his/her presence with an 'I' argument, quite similar the mysterious style Henry James sometimes slips an 'I' statement into an all-seeing narrative).

So, from the beginning, our attention is on dark-haired Maggie, the girl who volition later say:
I'm determined to read no more books where the blond-haired women carry abroad all the happiness. If you lot could give me some story where the nighttime adult female triumphs, it would restore the balance. I desire to avenge all the nighttime unhappy ones.."

The reader is completely behind Maggie in this desire to see the dark woman triumph. And nighttime-haired Maggie does triumph, the river playing an unexpected role in her victory. But the terrible irony is that Maggie cannot bear to triumph at the cost of the blond woman's happiness, and the factory and the river become her refuge in the stop equally they were in the outset.
A perfect story with a perfect title.

george-eliot

1,150 reviews 7,078 followers

October fourteen, 2021

A reread that I loved all over once again!

656 reviews 27 followers

Edited March five, 2008

I suspect betwixt this novel and Middlemarch, George Eliot is becoming my favorite nineteenth-century novelist. I wish she were even so alive so that I could write her fan messages.

The Mill on the Floss is funny and moving and philosophical. Eliot does so many dissimilar things well; she's witty and discrete, and so she writes a love scene that makes your knees become wobbly. Middlemarch struck me the same way - it'due south incredibly romantic, and and then information technology does things with that romance, crazy thematic plot things, that sometimes make you lot feel like the author has punched you in the tum.

I recall George Eliot and Joss Whedon would probably go along.

The novel is also absurd because it'due south sort of a novel about adultery without really being about infidelity. It feels very modern and unflinching, the more then because George Eliot actually spent much of her adult life in a happy but socially-isolating relationship out of wedlock, so she had perspective on The System.

The last couple hundred pages are incredibly intense, maybe the more so considering I read them in 1 go on a very long train ride, almost of which was spent on the edge of my (non very comfy) seat. It'southward ane of those novels whose catastrophe is absolutely unguessable and yet feels vitally of import; "Holy crap," I asked myself, "how is this going to end, and volition I be able to alive a happy and well-adjusted life after I finish it?"

I'1000 nonetheless working on that happy and well-adjusted part. The catastrophe... well, is it ever an ending. Words like "mythic" and "apocalyptic" do non give it justice. I'm still not sure how I feel about it - in some ways she gave me just the ending I didn't desire, but she did it in such a manner that I had to admire. Too, it is very, very intriguing and makes me want to write essays almost it, which is unremarkably a expert matter.

Great characters, great plot, great themes. A very well-rounded novel.

classics

659 reviews 944 followers

Edited June 25, 2020

Pese a mi apariencia infantil due east inocente, esta es ya mi tercera incursión con esta autora.

La primera, no sé qué tienen las primeras veces, fue una experiencia gloriosa: Middlemarch. La segunda empezó muy bien, pero acabó de forma algo decepcionante (no fuiste tú, Eliot, fui yo): Silas Marner. A pesar de ello, no le retiré mi confianza y decidí darle una nueva oportunidad con El molino de Floss.

Me gustó mucho el inicio, con esa ironía de guante blanco (con pintitas, si acaso) que se suele gastar esta señora.

"Una mujer demasiado lista es como una oveja con el rabo largo: no por eso vale más."

"Desde la cuna fue una niña sana, hermosa, gordita y boba, en definitiva, el orgullo de su familia,"

Pero la parte central me aburrió un tanto, y, aunque mejora hacia el last, solo alcanza en contadas ocasiones el nivel de los primeros capítulos.

Ains, Eliot, siempre nos quedará Middlemarch.

one,623 reviews 217 followers

Edited February 7, 2022

I had heard of George Eliot as a classic to read. My first surprise was to notice that, like George Sand, George Elliott was, in fact, a woman. But that wasn't the only good surprise. The writing is modern while remaining classic, of the Proust before the hr. Similar its author, the theme is avant-garde, who drew a lot from his life to write his main grapheme. The actors in the book are not Manichean but complex, allowing us all the meliorate to identify with their destiny. With a stunning finale, this book has all of a modern run a risk. It wraps in classicism.

2020-readings eastward-5-favourites female-writers

169 reviews 384 followers

October xiv, 2008

Ah, the classic tale of Maggie Tulliver and the four men she loves. How they destroy her, how she destroys them, and how they all end upward irredemptively miserable. Or dead. In most cases, both.

Then why read it? Because it'southward cute. Because it opens up your heart and mind in powerful ways. Because you will Love and truly feel for Maggie. Or merely considering you want to read 1 of those stories that makes you recollect, "See... my life isn't that bad!"

Maggie is amazingly intelligent, but she can't be educated because she'due south a worthless woman. She wants to save her family from fiscal ruin, just she's uneducated, so she doesn't know how. She wants to open herself up to friendship, but family unit grudges forbid her. She wants to follow the man she loves, but in doing so she will betray her best friends and be rejected entirely by her order. Pretty much her whole life sucks--full of carve up alternatives. No affair what she chooses, she will make herself and others miserable. This all proves that George Eliot is a adult female capable of Thomas-Hardy-level low. (And yes, George Eliot is a woman... don't feel bad, information technology took me years to effigy that out.)

The theme of the story is a struggle between passion (personified by Maggie) and duty (personified by her brother, Tom). Maggie absolutely lives and breathes for Tom's love and approving. However, if she follows her center and her passions, her brother rejects her... in fact, he literally hates her (and tells her so). On the other hand, if she stifles her own desires and surrenders her very self to duty, she is miserable. And Tom even so doesn't requite her whatsoever credit. If there'southward one literary graphic symbol I'm glad I'chiliad non, it'due south probably Maggie Tulliver.

I was introduced to this story when I saw Helen Edmundson's astounding play accommodation at the Shared Experience theater in London (if you're anywhere virtually London, Delight VISIT THIS THEATER RIGHT NOW). Edmundson drew an astonishing allegory between Maggie'south life and the sometime "fire and h2o" witch trials. Centuries agone, some genius came upwardly with a brilliant program of how to tell if an accused witch was guilty. As everyone knows, witches (and Only witches) tin can float in h2o. (Duh.) So you but throw an accused witch into the depths of the sea. If she floats, she'due south guilty, and you melt her flesh at the pale. However, if she sinks to the bottom and dies choking in water while her lungs collapse, she's innocent! "Congratulations! Y'all've been absolved! Now you can live out your life in... look a second..." (Yeah, I told y'all--these people were geniuses). There is no more perfect parallel for Maggie's hopeless life filled with impossible alternatives.

I honestly can't think of a unmarried thing that could have happened to make this story sadder. And the virtually depressing role of all--it's almost entirely autobiographical.

I'grand gonna get cry now.

one,202 reviews xiv.7k followers

Edited May 22, 2021

"We could never have loved the earth and then well if we had had no babyhood in information technology, if it were non the earth where the same flowers come once more every spring that we used to get together with our tiny fingers as we sat lisping to ourselves on the grass, the same hips and haws on the fall hedgerows, the aforementioned redbreasts that we used to call 'God's birds' considering they did no harm to the precious crops. What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known and loved because information technology is known?"

british-literature classics lincolnshire

147 reviews 282 followers

Edited January 18, 2020

Once upon a time I read an article that said that romantic love was 'invented' around the years 1200 by the Troubadours–those persons dressed in puffy pants, walking effectually and playing lutes, singing almost their lady love. By their songs they elevated the woman onto a pedestal and long ceaselessly for her–as a affair of fact– the whole bespeak of chivalrous love existence that information technology was never consummated – because that the object of romantic love is not actually a homo existence, it's an idealized prototype, possibly a fragmented memory belonging to a person we once knew – but, of course, it is not precisely known if from present life, by life or even future life...As and then, as now – it was a sexist age –it was all about a human adoring a adult female, and the point was to idealize the beloved but never come down to earth for honey's trials and tribulations.
On a deeper level, if a truthful search is done, we might exist surprised to learn that – not the fact that romantic love didn't exist before that time (hard to conceive of that, truly) – those people who invented it, were really singing to God (a god, or a deity, or whatever had some supernatural powers), not a woman. I observe this more fascinating and, in a way, quite normal. Times nevertheless perverted this sort of "love" and romantic love reached to be comprehend-up for a yearning that is spiritual, non necessarily a want for a human person. The essence of romantic love is more about pinning – pointing towards something that's actually not doable on a physical aeroplane. One is in pain longing for this 'perfect person' who doesn't exist and tin can't take. And, as always, I observe Kahlil Gibran's quote resonating better, "Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your agreement." Having to deal with hurting, not necessarily a suffering of the torso, then something deep breaks your heart and and so you get an opportunity – hopefully if it is not missed – to empathize, and to develop compassion for yourself and others pain and suffering, struggles and battles. And then, as the cherry-red on top of the pie, honey starts becoming available and let loose of the barriers within yourself that yous accept built confronting it.
The outset innocence is going to go, has to go. And it is good that it goes. IF it continues, one will not actually be a 'man = homo'. Nature lives in the first innocence, only man is capable of losing it. In a way, it is a great dignity, it is a glory – every bit simply man is capable of committing 'sin', no other animal tin can. Except for man, all the animals, birds and trees still be in the Garden of Eden – they never left it actually. That'due south why nature has such beauty, such peace, such silence. Every bit it looks, to be satisfied with the first "innocence" is to remain unconscious. Even so, Life being difficult and difficult – as and then it has been propagated down the centuries - it is but by going wrong that consciousness arises. Just, going wrong is non really going wrong, considering just through it does the consciousness arise. All has to be lost. Well, symbolically to be lost information technology is e'er much better or preferred, rather than in a tangible sort of fashion. A flood, an over-alluvion nevertheless is really powerful. It can wash away everything and brand it pure, crystal clear from the scratch – theoretically we can assume information technology, practically it is never and so pure anymore, never a smooth surface, never a articulate shinning layer…Then, this is where Maggie is heading towards – she has to come to the indicate where all is lost, God is lost, sky is lost – one cannot believe in paradise, and one cannot believe that innocence is possible. Just from that peak of frustration, anguish, anxiety is in that location a possibility of a one-hundred-and-eighty caste turn.
The starting time innocence is always with the child – as a affair of fact, y'all tin can always see happiness around him/her. The child is the first kind of hedonist – if there is a conventionalities (certainly, information technology has one) – then there is eating, drinking and being merry, living the moment, no clouds yet – his sky is clear.
Growing up – the human goes into a chaos. The old creation, the onetime/first innocence simply falls into pieces; not even a trace is left. Maggie became interested in higher things, in knowing things. Nosotros may doubtless say she ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge, and she started condign more conscious. She started trying to understand what this/her reality is, moving into knowing and of a sudden the doors of the Garden are airtight for her. Suddenly she finds herself outside the Garden, and she does not know where the way back is – well, at least for a transient catamenia – she has to go farther and further away.
But, even for an old-fashioned family, the vision of life is/can be far more than consummate- even if superficially it seems it is linear: unity, then complexity, and so concentration, so direction. And the direction goes on and on, the arrow goes on for infinity, it never comes back. That is how the family story seems to go…this is logical but not natural. Nature, on the other hand, moves in a circle, seasons motility in a circle, stars movement in a circumvolve, man's life moves in a circle. Everything moves in a circle, not in a line. The circle is the style of the nature. This is well emphasized both at the beginning and the endmost of the novel. The line does not exist in the nature. Euclid believed in line; non-Euclidean geometry says there is nothing like line in beingness. The line likewise is part of a bigger circumvolve, that's all. Still, my proffer is that development is screw – neither linear nor circular. In this way both are joined together, the progress moves as if it is moving in a line, considering information technology never comes to exactly the aforementioned point again.
Would there be a decision line, still? Yes, certainly. Would be more like saying 'Don't go on playing with your wound'. This continuous fingering of the wound will not allow it to heal. And who wants to wait at a wound? That'south is to say – ameliorate to be happy, get a flower: flower.
So, at that place seem to be three things that happened to Maggie: she is in the dark night of the soul, in a very unloving space – basically within herself. That is why she has to be, to feel, to exist in a loving space, merely a loving space is anxiety creating: it is conflict, information technology is struggle, because then a real person enters into your life. And there is plainly clash and an overlapping of the boundaries; and all kinds of diplomacies, strategies to dominate, to possess enter. In that location is nifty war – it is the way things are. The loving ones first acting as intimate enemies. Only, only out of that feel, does ane grow further – one becomes independent. And, assumedly, at present in that location is no need for love. Ane can alive alone, and one can live alone as happily every bit one can live in relationship. On this level, in that location is no difference.
PS: Oh, Yep, yesterday it was a full moon in Aries. Every bit per experts' stance this is a time to dedicate on themes of power, initiation, self-healing & rebirth. Mostly 'death & rebirth' and it is the power of re-generation: the power to cull again, and cull wisely, to change the form all together. Experts, again, say that 'Decease of form' is a gift because it gives us the opportunity to change what has bound usa and limited our growth, that is especially for those of us – mostly catalogued as gratis thinkers – nosotros could be acting as magicians, alchemists and avatars. And then, we are given the opportunity to journeying through a near transformational flow of our soul's development. Information technology can exist dark and deep at times; only for a good reason (nosotros cannot become alee without it). Information technology's high time to (re)discover what is subconscious so that information technology can assist what nosotros see in our surroundings. No more hiding, no more shrinking from our artistic power. If it is blocked or lost in the chaos then it'south time to reclaim information technology and ain information technology. Magic is all around us - the frequency of change and the night (feminine) gift of rebirth.
Every bit for my part – I'll employ this benign aspect for a bit of (business) travelling to enjoy more of the sun and ocean absorption, and hopefully, some of the fine sand – non just dry stones and rocks…Information technology was high fourth dimension! 😉

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Source: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20564.The_Mill_on_the_Floss