Bill, Bill, Bill

Sorry I haven't been posting in a while.  I've been dividing my time between thesis research, Victorian research, and Henry IV Part 1, which is having its second weekend this weekend (It's totally awesome.  Everyone should go.  Here's a link for info.  By the by, it's being directed by the fabulous Hilary Gross.)

But, thinking about the show got me thinking about all the Shakespeare references there are in Victorian literature.  I always got really excited when I saw them, because I got the reference.

There are a few in North and South.  One chapter opens with a quote from Midsummer Night's Dream, "For never anything can be amiss when simpleness and duty tender it."  Rumor has it there's a Sonnet 1 reference in the beginning of Middlemarch, but for that you might have to ask Hilary.

So, this isn't exactly related to my research for class, but I'm always happy when the other areas of my research become relevant to this research.

How about anyone else?  Any references you're just really happy to get?

According to a website of questionable integrity...

So, I randomly decided while working on my paper that I wanted to see how much the 600quid that Gaskell got paid would translate into modern currency.
The web is not loaded with sites willing to provide these sorts of calculations, but according to a site of unproven integrity (http://futureboy.us/fsp/dollar.fsp), that 600quid is roughly equal to $60,000.  So, that's a lot of money.
Out of curiosity, does anyone know a slightly more reputable source I could use to verify this?

Edited 10:47
I LOVE the British National Archives.  They actually had a reasonable converter for this sort of thing.  ^_^

How Did I Miss That?

This is about to make me sound as dumb as a brick, but I swear I never really gave much thought to consumer culture in North and South until, well, today in class.  And, really, that's just weird, because this book is all about people marking class through physical objects.  (Oh and strikes and love and stuff, but who cares about that?)

One of the central indicators of Margaret's family's fall from the middle classes (to only the lower-middle class really, but they really care loads) is that they can no longer afford the extravagant objects and possessions they used to.  The biggest indicator that Thornton's family are nouveau-riche (hideously so in the eyes of the Margaret's class) is how they treat and acquire material possession.  Admittedly, these are things I had thought about before.  What makes me the prize fool is that I didn't realize the obvious indicator.

The obvious indicator of obviousness that I totally missed until today: MILTON IS A MANUFACTURING TOWN.

Yes, this novel actually takes place in a town where people make the fabrics that people use to indicate class statues.  So, it turns out, even the broke and starving factory girls know how to tell someone's class by how they dress.  The best example that springs to mind for me is when Margaret -- who hasn't realized that these people, since she isn't rich, don't see her as high class -- tells her friend Bessie, a poor mill girl, that she's having dinner with Thornton and the mill owner families, and Bessie thinks that Margaret couldn't be fit to mix with such fine company, since she doesn't dress rich: "'But them Milton ladies dress so grand,' said Bessie, with an anxious look at Margaret's print gown, which her Milton eyes assessed at seven-pence a yard" (148).  Aside from obvious proof that Bessie's got skills, it sort of sums up how people in this town think about Margaret: Girl, I know exactly how much money you got, because I know what that fabric costs, you do not talk down to me."

Consumer culture in a surprisingly pure form.

Where'd We Go?

I'm sorry for my less than spirited existence in the blogosphere lately.  I have the plague.  (At least, that's what I'm calling it, since that sounds better than what it probably is -- a reminder from the gods and my immune system not to cuddle with people, especially sick ones.)

On a more Gaskell related note, I find myself fascinated by something I've noticed in the articles about her that followed on the heels of her death and the centennial of her birth: Gaskell was really freaking famous.  People knew that this was one of those women who could blow the walls off a brick building (can you tell I'm a fan?)  Her own obit refers to her as one of the brightest lights of female Victorian writers, and there were a number.  Her husband's obit stops just short of calling him Mr. Elizabeth Gaskell.  (Deserved in my opinion, she did her fair share to ensure the spread of her career beyond just preaching.)

So why is it these days when I tell people I'm studying this totally awesome book by Liz Gaskell, people go, "Who?"  When did we (as a culture, as readers, as students, as critics, as people) get so distracted by Dickens or even by the Brontes to the exclusion of other authors people used to think were so important?  So many modern authors, I feel, owe something to Gaskell, if only for the fact that she represents the way mercantile interests and the creation of newly moneyed capitalist classes would affect romances.  ("Poor boys shouldn't think of marrying rich girls" anyone?)  And yet  Gaskell seems so overlooked.

Anyone else getting funny looks for what their studying?  Anyone else being surprised by what history is overlooking?

I See No Cliffs Here

North and South, like most Victorian novels, originally came out in serial form.   Having read a few other things that originally came out in serial form, I know some authors really relied hard on the cliffhanger endings or other brilliant and/or blatant efforts to get you to buy the next installment.  (Check how many times Dickens uses prolepsis in Great Expectations.  He loves to remind you of the things you don't know yet and that you'll have to read the next chapter to find out.  He's a tease.)

However, it seems to me that Gaskell doesn't really lean on these sorts of tricks.  Instead, she seems to count strongly on the reader's interest in the persistent questions of the plot (ex: Will John and Margaret get together? How will the strike issues resolve? Will anyone survive this book?) though she doesn't call over-much attention to those either.

Is anyone else noticing an absence of cliff-hanger-iness?   Am I expecting a little too much sensationalism and/or attenting-grabbing?

North and South and Dining Halls

Hi guys,
I'm posting a little anecdote here, mostly to demonstrate the posting and following things, but also so you can take a small amount of amusement in how batty I tend to look in public.


Today I was doing some rereading of North and South in our lovely dining hall, and I was revisiting a favorite passage **SPOILER ALERT** where Thornton goes to ask Margaret to marry him.**END SPOILER ALERT**

Anyway, I had a few feelings about this passage, which manifest themselves in mutter to myself and tossing my hands in the air, as if I were talking to the characters.  Since I was sitting at a table by myself at the time, I can safely say I looked just a little bit mental.  I think the moral of the story is that some things should be read in private.  Or maybe just that I should stop