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