Silas Marner

This is a sweet comfort read more than anything, really. I'm not sure if it delves very deeply into a lot of topics (as far as I can tell, at least), but it was entertaining enough and just - a sweet depiction of rural life, particularly centering upon family.

Silas Marner is a linen-weaver in the town of Raveloe, where he's regarded as a bit of a harmless loner oddball. He is unexpectedly burglared one night, an incident that makes its rounds throughout the town and earns him some sympathy. Even stranger still, an unfamiliar woman dies of cold just outside his door, leaving behind a 2 year old baby girl who Silas immediately opens his heart to and adopts. Unbeknownst to Silas, these incidents are all entwined and will eventually be unravelled.

I found this particularly easy to read for a piece of classic literature written in the 1860s. It's incredibly short, and the action is perpetually ongoing. Excepting a couple of obligatory chapters with old men gossiping in a tavern in convoluted English accents, which was a whole lot easier to grasp with the aid of an audiobook and a good narrator (thank you, Andrew Sachs), the story flows extremely smoothly and there's something happening in every chapter.

The story in itself is easy to follow and there's a nice sort of symmetry to it (i.e. Silas losing his gold, but then gaining back "gold" in the form of Eppie and her golden curls, but then later when he does recover his gold back, he almost loses her again). It's all kinda rural farm life sweet, but also lacks a certain punch to it that I would've expected. I don't know how else to describe it. Aside from Dunstan Cass, who was thoroughly repulsive but doesn't have a lot of page time in the book, all the other characters were all such well-meaning, mild-mannered farm people. Despite the drama, everything seemed to be pulled off without a hitch. Even the ending denouement resolving the central conflict lasted barely a chapter. I was legit surprised that the ending was basically just: Gordon Cass staking his claim on Eppie, Eppie saying nope sorry, and Gordon Cass retreating with his wife and both of them finding it in themselves to be happy for Eppie's choice to stay with Silas and to marry Aaron.

On some level, I'm not really complaining, because sometimes I just need a nice, short perk-me-up of a book that gives you all the good vibes in the vehicle of a serviceable story with characters that work, and this is really what Silas Marner is about. If you're looking for something with a bigger punch, or which dwells a bit more on social commentary of the mid 19th century, this is probably not it.

Silas Marner has left his homeland after being falsely accused of a crime. In England, he is regarded with suspicion, and, alone and friendless, he occupies himself by amassing gold coins. In Marner's town is a squire with two sons. The older son is being blackmailed by the wicked younger son; the squire does not know that the older son has secretly married an opium addict and has a child. The younger son needs money and, when opportunity arises, steals Marner's gold. Later, the secret wife of the squire's older son dies while attempting to bring the child to him, and the child survives when she is drawn by a warm fire to enter Marner's home. Marner takes the child, who he names Eppie, in, and gradually the village warms to Marner for his kindness.

I love this story of Silas Marner. Perhaps I might take a fraction of a point away for Eppie's unremitting and slightly unlikely cheeriness, but the saving of a soul (Marner) by love (Eppie's) will always be my favorite sort of tale.

‰ЫПI suppose one reason why we are seldom able to comfort our neighbours with our words is that our goodwill gets adulterated, in spite of ourselves, before it can pass our lips. We can send black puddings and pettitoes without giving them a flavour of our own egoism; but language is a stream that is almost sure to smack of a mingled soil.‰Ыќ