Spot the Feminist In Middlemarch

I would like to continue Matt's discussion of Dorothea as the feminist figure in Middlemarch. After concluding the novel, I have an overwhelming sense of frustration with Dorothea. Before even introducing us to the characters in her own novel, Eliot prefaces her narrative with a short discussion on St. Theresa. It is no coincidence that the following chapter's title (the first chapter) is "Miss Brooke," nor is it coincidental that there are parallel plot devices and similarities between the two women. In short, I expect a contrived connection between the women to unfold throughout the course of the novel; I anticipated Dorothea's evolvement into a saint-like figure.

I recognize that the parameters of Dorothea's freedom and possibilities were highly constrained by her role in society and also by her subservient position as "wife" in marriage; however, I cannot help but be disappointed by her ultimate lack of involvement throughout the course of a 600 page book. When the reader is introduced to Dorothea, we learn that she has an abundance of ideas on how to reconstruct the town in order to prevent homelessness. Though not an explicitly "feminist" act, but rather, a charitable action, this would prove to the Middlemarchers that women are capable of being the agents and undertakers of their own ideas. Eventually, this could lead to the possibility of women maintaining a number of different occupations. My frustration is a result of Dorothea's ultimate passivity. Though the Middlemarchers infer that Dorothea is responsible for the majority of Will Ladislaw's actions, she does nothing under her own name or her own persona.

What I failed the realize, the first time I read the prelude to the novel, was the line, "Here and there is born a Saint Theresa, foundress of nothing, whose loving heart-beats and sobs after an unattained goodness tremble off and are dispersed among hindrances, instead of centering in some long-recognisable deed" (page 3). Upon completion of the novel, I returned to this passage to realize the complete despondency surrounding the role of Victorian women: though, according to Eliot, she may have virtuous intentions, her capability to make a difference is minimal without the mask of a male persona. It is no coincidence, after all, that Eliot herself went under a male pseudonym.