—Emily Dickinson
Thursday, September 26, 2024
We do not know the time we lose—
Monday, September 23, 2024
Diary
I haven't been doing much of anything for the last few days or had much to say. I do have another book to read but haven't started it yet. At the moment I have lots of tomatoes and will have to start giving them away soon, because I can only eat so many of them per week. Next year, maybe I'll have just two tomato plants and perhaps something else. This little garden has been more productive than the one in Middlebury: the tomatoes are larger, and there are more of them. They get more sun here, and also more water, because they are right next to a hose and the house.
It's already becoming very autumnal, with the leaves changing and starting to fall. But it's still a long way from the peak. As in most years, the weather is dry now. I am all set for winter, and they say it could be colder and snowier, which is what I prefer. So far, heating costs haven't been much of a factor, and I can keep the house in the low seventies during the winter without using much fuel.
The mouse situation seems to be under control at the moment. As in Middlebury, they prefer to enter near ground level, and when you block those entrances they go higher up. They don't like the high-up entrances, so they go through the house once they get in and look for lower entrances, but there aren't any now. The high entrances are dangerous for them, because they could fall and die, or they could be spotted by owls or other predators. The high entrances also leave them farther from food sources. The last entrances I've blocked have been at the edge of the roof, and they can't go any higher. Fortunately, it is very easy for me to get onto the roof, and it's not very steep. I'm not sure how many actual mouse holes I've blocked, but I think it's at least ten. My mouse research also extends to the shed. I think those entrances are also blocked. They had nest entrances in the dirt in front of the shed, and I noticed that, as soon as a small milk snake came by, they closed off those entrances. It is often difficult to distinguish instinctive behavior from intelligent behavior.
I think I'm doing a lot better than Henry David Thoreau. His cabin had no running water or toilet, and he considered a mouse that lived in it with him to be his pet.
I don't make many campaign contributions, but I sent money to the ActBlue PAC for Kamala Harris, and now I'm being barraged with donation requests – very tiresome. It always seems pathetic to me that political success often depends on fundraising and advertising, because I've never voted for anyone on the basis of an advertisement. Advertising of any kind usually has no effect on my behavior. When I make a campaign contribution, it is like an affirmation that I have little in common with most voters. I don't think that's how democracy is supposed to work. To me, the fact that a voter needs to see an advertisement in order to vote indicates that he or she is unqualified to vote. Furthermore, all adult Americans should know by now, without being told, that Donald Trump is a lying criminal with purely selfish motives and no identification with any constituency, except perhaps self-centered billionaires.
Monday, September 16, 2024
The Marriage Question: George Eliot's Double Life
This 2023 biography of George Eliot, by Clare Carlisle, was recommended to me by a reader. Reading it was like a walk down memory lane, because I had already covered most of the same material, but in the last century. Even so, I never stopped being a George Eliot admirer, and Carlisle, who is a philosophy professor, does offer some useful insights at the end.
I tend to evolve intellectually, and I have always found George Eliot to be an interesting case study. I came across her when I was about forty, and I was gradually working my way through various fields at the time. By that point, I had already decided that philosophy, particularly as an academic discipline, is mainly a waste of time, and I was taking a shot at literature while also becoming interested in evolutionary biology. Since starting this blog in 2014, I have gradually given up on literature, but I think that Middlemarch may be the one novel that is worth reading. I find it interesting because it successfully represents a local culture at a particular place and time and accurately depicts a variety of its inhabitants, including unvarnished descriptions of human behavior. When it was written, Darwinism was being discussed in London, and Eliot would have been exposed to it through G.H. Lewes and Herbert Spencer. Lewes himself had transitioned from the arts to the sciences and was personally acquainted with Charles Darwin. In addition, though modern psychology didn't exist then, Eliot understood people well. After reading Middlemarch, I eventually came to think of it as an insightful book, unlike most novels, because it provided more than the usual fictional entertainment. While it does contain predictable romantic intrigues and relationship failures, it is of much greater substance than a Jane Austen novel. Unlike some of Eliot's other stories, religion, mysticism and the occult are not at the forefront. At this point in my life, I prefer to view the world through the lens of evolutionary biology, because, if nothing else, it provides you with a way of understanding why things are the way they are now.
Where I think Carlisle does a good job is in showing how difficult it is to know how George Eliot made some of her decisions and whether she regretted any of them. The "double" in the title refers to how and why she paired up with G.H. Lewes and, later, after Lewes had died, with John Cross. I had thought about this before and have some thoughts now. First, I should say that it was largely an accident that she became a writer. Her father happened to retire near Coventry, Eliot happened to still be living at home, and their new neighbors happened to be the Brays. Charles Bray was a progressive ribbon manufacturer, and his home became a salon for progressive intellectuals. He was a follower of Robert Owen, who visited there, along with various London intellectuals. Unlike modern manufacturers, Bray and Owen cared about their workers. Eliot befriended Bray's wife, Cara, and her sister, Sara Hennell. In any case, it seems that Eliot may never have established any connections with London intellectuals if she hadn't lived there, and her life could easily have taken a different course.
In London, though she was recognized as a talented writer, editor and translator, she was not physically attractive and came from an ordinary rural family, so she did not have many suitors. She "dated" Herbert Spencer, but was crushed when he dumped her. That is just as well, because Spencer was cold and would have been unacceptable to her, since she was emotionally needy. The only other prospect to turn up was G.H. Lewes, who, though warm, had several shortcomings. He was short and pockmarked, and was an illegitimate son of a man who had abandoned his mother. Furthermore, his wife had cuckoled him by having four children with his best friend in addition to his three, and he couldn't divorce her under existing law without an embarrassing trial. He was struggling to support his wife and children, and, having generally failed as a playwright and a novelist, he eventually became a science writer – with little formal education. On top of this, he was an avowed atheist, while Eliot had a devout childhood. Nevertheless, the relationship met Eliot's needs, and, after he encouraged her to write fiction, they became extremely wealthy. Lewes was an extroverted man-about-town and did an excellent job as her manager.
The question that comes up is whether he was the sort of man who suited Eliot. From her point of view, I would say no. He was a slightly disrespectable bohemian who drew disparaging comments from his social superiors – to be expected in England. She preferred people like Ralph Waldo Emerson, whom she had met through Charles Bray. Emerson was a tall, handsome, elegant and religious college graduate, and she was instantly attracted to him. Part of the point of Carlisle's book is that the choice of a partner can be somewhat inscrutable. Because Eliot tended to be conservative and religious, I would say they there was a certain amount of expediency in her pairing up with Lewes. I think that she was quite aware that, from a social standpoint, Lewes was an inappropriate partner for her.
Following this line of reasoning, it makes sense that she married John Cross after Lewes died. She had taken a lot of flak for living with Lewes out of wedlock. Cross was tall and came from a good family. In person, I think that he must have been boring to an intellectual woman like Eliot. My guess is that she had the same social-climbing instinct as many women. There is some evidence of a problem in that he inexplicably dove into the Grand Canal in Venice on their honeymoon, apparently because he was having some sort of breakdown. This was all swept under the rug, and Eliot died a few months later.
I might add that the biography that Cross assembled after Eliot died was so bad that her literary reputation declined for several years. I've read it myself and can see why. On balance, I would have to say that Lewes was a better choice than Cross. If she had been a little more adventurous, she may have found a less burdened partner than Lewes and a more interesting partner than Cross.