ffi

Patrick McEvoy-Halston
ProfessorS. Burgar
English380
24 Jvne2002
Haunting Raveloe: How George Eliot, in Silas Marner,Exorcizes Her Past
"/
In GeorgeEliot's SilasMarner(1861),the menat theRainbowdebateoverwhetherthereis a

ghostat the Warrenstables.Further,they weigh in on whethera ghost,evenif it did exist,would even

want "ignorantfolk" to believein it. With Silas'sunnoticedentranceinto the bar, andwith his

that ghostsarenot discerningin who they wantfilo believein

Eliot suggests
apparition-likecountenance,

them,theyjust want to be remembered.Silas,of course,is not a ghost,but o'ghosts,"

or presences

with the past,do indeedhauntmanycharacters

associated in the text/ /rndtheseghosts,if ignored,give
/
everyreasonfor people,suchasthoseat the Rainbow,to be wary of themYRaveloeis alsoinhabitedby

an apparitionfrom the future--Eliotasa narrativepresence.But Eliot would ratherembraceRaveloethan

hauntit. In fact, her visit is evidenceof the continuinginfluenceof "old waysof thinking," of ghosts,on

her own life. Knowing intimatelythe increasingprospectsfor happinessthat modernslike her havein an

andknowinghow differenther situationandbeliefs

agein which seeminglyanyonemight rise to success,

that sustainit arefrom thoseof the past,sheis not be ableto shakeoff the feelingthat sheandher age

deservepunishmentfor beingunfaithful to their nentageinher unfaithfulness,sheis like her character

,2+^
GodreyCass.But perhaps,her quiteviciousattackon Godrey'sbrotherDunlapnotwithstanding,Eliot is
rn
morelike the diabolicallycunninganddaringDunlapin imagining,thoughher creationSilasMarner,a

the ancestralghosts.By "showing"both that shehasnot forgottenthemandthat

stratagemfor appeasing

Eliot placatesinternalpersecutors,
lest,h.8"ffi;r?;e degenerate,
shebelievesthey mustbe remembered

but only so asto buy time until sheis readyto banishthemfrom her mind altogether.We look first to

signsof agitationin the na:rator,in a text otherwisecraftedby a sympatheticbutjudicio.r, -irra,(.

evidencethat Eliot fearssheis somehowblameworthyfor beingan egoistic,willful modern.

WhenMr. Maceyargues"[a]s if ghos'es'ud wantto be believedin by anybodyso ignirant"

(Eliot 54), Eliot, with Silas'sghost-likeappearance

at the Rainbow,is ableto suggestotherwisebecause

his statementcouldbe contradictedby experience.Experience,oftenin the form of surprising,sudden,

anddramaticchangesto everydaylife, is mostoftenusedby Eliot to showhow unpredictablenature,r./

 2

Eliot hasa conceptionof naturethatmight strikemanyof us asrealisticbecauseit highlightsa

ko'^*
phenomenon we've long beenusedto, that of the constancyandinevitabilityof change.In Raveloe,or

with simple,reclusivepeoplesuchasSilas,Eliot showsus that because"life [is] . . . breathedon

variouslyby multitudinouscurrents,from the windsof heavento the thoughtsof men[,] . . . [which] are

for evermovingandcrossingeachother,with incalculableresults"(23),that neitherthe town nor its

denizenscanforeverhold "life," or nature,atbay. Realistic-seeming,

too, is Eliot's characterization
of
/ 151
systemsor codesof thoughtasideologt"tp*/.ular to a personor a peoplesituatedat aparticulartime

andplace,ratherthanasabsolutetruths. Shetreatsthosewho cling to regularandpatternedwaysof

thinking with sympathy,but, in general,showsthat in their rigidity, thesewaysof thinking often imposea

form on reality which eitherRealitysubvertsat their user'sexpense(aswith Silasandhis ritual of leaving

his doorwrlocked),or which enclosestheir usersin a kind of walled-inmisery(asis the casewith

i- ) --il--^ -*'1'* ( )
Nancy's"unalterablelittle code[s]"(156)).

Yet despitethis tendency

ofEliot to characterize inwitable,sheherselfexpresses
changeas-b'-.-*^ a '
,-^", L"T. tL olaf^.a":4 o' ,*.ta^ ')t'o!"| -<-':fn ' ,
"ror.,r.-r*
teYtuous seemingmaxim in the text--thatbwglars aredull minded--whichsbeinsistsis alnost alwaystnie
jtiat "ffii
pr). **r"" the degreeto which

peoplearerewardedor punisheddependson the exter$to which they behaveor tbink "selfishly," It

advancestle samesort ofargun€nt that we often seein a fairy tale, an enchantedreakn very far distant in
-/
spirit from the dispassionate
world ofrealisrfand it reflectsa world-view which Dunlap,the char-acterI a-1
a /aa
who'Eliot makesa skeletoilof, andwho, aswe will explore,is similar to Eliot herself,"deprecatelsl"
' /,"-*"*-'.-
t5
tr ^ooZ
(74).

Godrey,DunlaprandSilasarethreecharacterswhom Eliot seemsespeciallyconcemed1/ both r(

t
showushowtheyconceiveof tlemselvesandrevealfor ushowtheyfarein life. Godrey,at book'send,

hasbeenbothpunishedandrewarded.Heis admonished in thetextfor nothavingthe'tnoral courage"to

/\tJ"
ownupto his marriageto Mattf to Nancy.YetnottellingNancydid not-preveirtthernarriaggnordid it
"*? i.cp.<l

$ entirelyruin hisprorpo,

happiness
"ri*""ss-he
failsto makeclaimto b6[y, butheclearlyhasfound

hesaysto Nancy(175),"1gotyou n spiteof all; andyetI've

in marriage.With "teirderness"
 3

beengrumblinganduneasybecauseI hadn't somethingelse"(175),adding,importantfor our purposes,

"as if I deservedit" (L75). Godrey'sbrother,Dturlap,is judgedby Eliot for his devilishclevernessandis

r"r/to'^ga2
punishedrathermoreseverely;folGodrey at leasthadthe modestyto think of himself asdeserving

punishment,Dunlap, instead,extortshis brotherandpreysupon his neighbowswithout self-reproach.To

be rewardedwith an entirelyhappypresentwith promisingfutue prospects,accordingto the logic of

( rqfi
Silas Marner, demandsthe "humble sort of acquiescencein what was held to be good" that 9rlas has

(r42).

Eliot, who discernswhenthe landlord,for example,uses"analogicallogic" (54), clearlyknows

andbelievesthat reflectioncanhelp oneavoidmistakingnormsor habitsof thoughtfor universallyvalid

/
truths.vReflectingon "[p]oor Marner" (14), shetells us that,"[t]o peopleaccustomed
to reasonaboutthe

forms in which their religious feeling hasincorporateditself, it is difficult to enterinto that simple,

untaughtstateof mind in which the form andthe feelinghaveneverbeenseveredby an act of reflection"

(14). Perhapsthe reasonthat Eliot, at leastwith the dispersalof rewardsandpunishments,suddenly

conceivesof natureas a neatandorderlymechanismthat ensuresthat thereare,to Dunlap'smisfortune,

to people'sactions(73),whenotherwiseshecharacterizes
"unpleasantconsequences" natureasan

unpredictable,chaoticentity,is becauseEliot, herself,with this matter,hasnot yet managedto entirely

freeherselffrom that simpleway of thinkingtoo bondedto emotionalarousalto enablereflective

thought. That is, while writing, whenshebringsto mind clearexamplesof egoisrn,or of peopleintent on

pleasingthemselves,shebecomesso overcomewith feelingsof guilt for her own intelligenceandsuccess

that shecannotyet managethat disinterestedstateof mind requiredto notice, ffid thereforebe capableof

altering,her naturalinclinationsto associate

ambitionwith hubrisandinflict vengeance
on the "guilty''
,/
trespassers.\/

Eliot, we know, doesnot alwaysdistinguishherselffrom "simpletons";shefrequentlytells us,

often including all humanityin her sweepinggeneralizations,that we all sharesomeof the mentalhabits

,1 , / of the simple
-
andhonestmemb€rsof the Raveloecommunity, But, suspiciously,thosewho do, suchas
*{t{ |
f r,f--^/\
' \\ William Daneand Dunlap Cass,arethosewhosegainssheinsistson characterizingand/orshapingas"ill
i,f "
 4

gotten." Williar& who his peersseeasbeing"so dazzledby his own light asto hold himselfwiserthan

his teachers"(10), displacesSilasasa reveredbrotherwith a plot that involvesstealingfrom the deacon.

Dunlap,who "swaggers"(34),who is alwayson the lookout"to take . . . someonein" (34),refersto Silas

-aOla*P--Jf
Mara-{t W,W
as an "old staring simpleton" (39). William and Dunlap ardyoungsters who not only disrespecttheir
^lr
elders--theteacherswith William, the elderlywith Dunlap--butwho wouldffim indifferentto their fate

oncethey hav-odistancedthemselvosfrom their eld€rs'presencoand influencein pursuit of their'letty

il. {,r j
egoistic" pleasures($f). Dunlap hasa singularability to arouseEliot. Eliot, who seeinsto find every

way to find somevirtue in "sirryle" minds, finds nonewhen shelabelsDunlap's asdull. But doesEliot

truly think Dunlap dull? We notethat shelabelshim dull just after shetells us that he thinks of Silasas

an old sirnpleton. Further,while Dunlap,in the sequencethat hashim ride his hone to deathandburglar

Silas,is shownasan impdsdddven, unttrintine fo@reviously he not only showedconsiderable

y'
an ability to mast€rhis own emotions.
cunningin his masteryover his brother,but also dernonstrated

Consideringthat Eliot characterizesDunlap's manipulationofGodrey in a fashionwhich makeshim

more diabolically cleverTthanimnulsiveand dull, vengeance,ratler tlan reasonedfair commentary,

-v,AJ-!, t" .r-y,s,, .t< a,.-l-O ; 4,;'-.,. ,* I
might move her writing h*. -n1,.-- "*t-
,, ,t -,r' k u -** aujr' o- l^ z,sr^-g r'/,^f".,^-
Previously,Eliot showedDunlap asa risk taker,but a very skilled and intelligent one, and she

also ernphasizedthe differencebetweenhis self-controland Godrey'slack thereof. While Godrey

succumbsto a "movementofcompunction . . . which wasa blight on his life" (31), it is Dunlap who sees

marriagethe meansof gratiffing at oncehis jealousbateandhis cupidity,"

"in his brother's degra.ding

and seizesupon his opportuniry( t). Godreyprefersto intimidateratherthanrcasonwith his broth€r.

Godrey,'tnasteredby . . . fear" (29), would flog [Dunlap] . . . within an inch of his Ufe'(29). Dunlap,in

confast, maintains,evenwhile beingphysicallythreatenedby his brother,"an air ofunconcem" (29). He

.a
hasenoughinsightinto hisbrother'sthoughtp.""rr"r-tbut h" for Godreyto stopresistingand
"an'\rait"
to acc€pthis t€rms(29). If Eliot wasat thispointin thenanativeto makea fair assessmentof Dunlap's

asGodreydoes,thathe
intelligeirceandimpulsecontrol,shereallycoulddonobettertlan to suggest,

couldhave'more sharpness" oneofDunlaps'sgoals,

(27). Evenin this shewouldbein errol because
repugnantthoughit is, is to agitatehis brotherasmuchaspossible. He bravesa trial, andrisks error (or

(27)),but he therebybetterknowsthe extentto which he hasensnaredhis

fverstrfotingl his mark"
brother. Ultimately,we note,Godreyacquiesces:Dunlapaccomplishes
his goal andneednot fear

Godrey. Dunlapis not, however,safefrom Eliot, andit is she,incapableof the restraintthat evenGodrey

manages,who "knock[s] . . . [Dunlap]down" (28). /

What Dunlap,in particular,represents

to Eliot, is someonewho "forsake[s]a decentcraft that he

maypursuethe gentilitiesof a professionto which naturenevercd.lej hinrl' (74). Dunlap,the second

son,lives a gentrifiedlife of drink, horseridinggmd leisure,andhashis elderbrothercontemplatethe

of becominga soldier(28). In his presumption,Dunlapis similarto William Dane,who,

consequences
/
thoughfavoured,is not lookeduponwith quitethe reverenceasarethosethoughtto be selectedby God r/

for a specialpurpose(as Silasis). William, aswith Dunlap,betraysthe bondthat oughtto existbetween

,/
brotherswhenhe devisesa meansto benefitat Silas'sexpense.Both DunlapandWilliam canbe

imaginedas similar in natureto Eliot andher conterporaries, Mid-Victorians, aswith Dunlap,and as #rl,f
N'
",{t;"J
rather ""^
with laterbomsons,havethenebulous"freedorn''to createtheirownrole,to definethernselves
ilr/"Wy-
'.
^
,./
rhanhavinga clearroleandidentitythrustuponthernlElde"sonshaveanobviouslink to thepastin thr, | , , --d

{dfi,+
theywould,aswith Godrey,"comeinto thelandsomeday''(24).Theyaremoreeasilyimagind again^
*5r"/;
with Godrey(andasEliot herselfirnagines
him),"ashavinganess€ntiallydomesticnature'(3I ), and*" V ) { .-
/'^lV^W
thusnot subject(asEliot imaginesDunlap)to wanderlust.ffiot, ffiup sesthe
andWilliam,posses
,e"ih|
intelligenceto, ifshe shoulddesire,manipulatethoseabouther for her own benefit. Moreover,*"t *
, ,. W
havesufEcientwill to acceptrisks in pursuit of goals. In a conplex, 'lnodern " wer+hanging society, n)a
this sort ofDarwinian intelligenceandwill might be deemednec€ssarynot oo]y to succeedbut to /
"*-u",
andmight havebeenimaginedby Eliot and her conternporaries
to be the nomr for her age. But p€rhaps

the habitual associationofttris sort ofintelligence asegoisticand self-servinghauntsthe minds ofpeople

like Eliot sufficiently that it createsidiosyncratictende,rciesfsuchasEliot's needto prurishher likenessin

her writing, and necessitates

att€Nnpts
to exon€ratethecrselvesfrom chargestlat they belongto a

dangerouslydegenerateagefar removedin ethicalpurity from the *honest[y] lbelongingto] . . . their

 6

- (20)./
ancestors

We know that Eliot is concernedto showhow intrusivepasteventscanbe on our present.Eliot

tells us that Nancy "filled the vacantmomentsby living inwardly, over and over again,throughall her

experience"(154),an experienceEliot characterizes

remernbered asa "morbid habit of mind" (154). And

with Godrey,Eliot showsus someonewho cannot,simplyby changinghis patternsof thinking, free

himselffrom torment. For evenif Godreywalwith the graciousassistance

of time, to forgethis past,the

"past" hasnot chosen.toforgetor forgivefridtl pfi"t conjuresup Molly in the text asan embodiedghost

from the pastwho seeksto punishGodrey. Thepassage

of time, forgetfulness,
*o#ro Molly's

advantage,for shewantsnothingmorethan to catchGodreyjust whenhe feels safeenoughfrom harm to

pursuea relationshipwith Nancy. Eliot wishesthat Godreyhadthe moral courageto tell Nancy abouthis

.2 early marriageto Molly earlierfhanhe does,but consideringthat it is difficult to believethat Eliot

\u
d:"Ja Jb \ imagines
thatthiswouldnothaveruinedhischances
'7
withNancy,Eliotchooses
to contrivea stratag€m
n-?Y,r ( /.,
rf
,/* than that of confessinghir sinsasa meansto consolidateher presentand future happiness.Eliot is
(other
tryrng to demonstrateto internalpersecutors,whetherghostshauntingher mind, or neur5x(alnetworks

nestedin her brain, that, with SilasMarner,her own intelligenceis at work trying to rememberher

forefathers--her"neighbours"from the past--andassureherselfthat shenot only valuesthembut, given

the chance,would standup for them in an attemptto protectthem from ,"o ./

In the text, Eliot defendsthe Raveloedenizensboth throughsubtleplot contrivancesTand

through

impassioned
narative "rants." The membersof the Rave)oecommunityareprimarily describedas simple

andhonest,but, at times,alsoasvengefulandbarbari beginningof Eliot's accountit is only fear,

".6*he
born of superstition,which preventsSilas"from the persecutionthat his singularitiesmight havedrawn

uponhim" (9). And nearbook's end,Silas'sisolationhelpsprotectEppiefrom "the loweringinfluences

of . . . village talk andhabits"(146). The resultis that,sincewe neverdo witnesstheir persecutionof

' w.^
/r'
.. Silas,nor do we seeEppiegrow into anythingotherthana wholly purechild, we aremostlikely to

t, +U associate
I'tV-1N^ thet]Dical"Raveloean"
with theb€nevoleot
Dolly. Eliot alsohastle chanceto activelydefend

.n.
Y
Nl-
."(apparrntly
fromsome
\-rr--"--J shebas*invit€d
ofthereaders al"rrgt*u .GriLfti-orffr-
{H,/k, rt
'., 4
,r/' {L,(
 i,
'ogrammatically
fair ones"who cannotfathomhow her "feelingscanat all resembletheirs" (93,.%J. And
i
Eliot sometimesevensoundslike a proudmemberof the Raveloecommunity,especially.yhenshe
',,"/ t' ?.t*{rr.: i.r-ri-*-.;, -,' f i :r,
fl -'l
mimics,with her diatribeagainstthosewho seekmorethanttiey.Ur1e.ytlle.orcpind tohave, the

Raveloeanhatredfor thosewho "wish to be betterthanthe 'commonrun"' (80).

In SilasMarner,Eliot maybe both provingto herselfthat sheis morean angelwho embracesthe

pastthan a moderndevil who disparages herselfto think this way. As with Eppie's
it, andaccustoming

soothingremarksto h.erfather,whenhe fearshe may loseher whenshemarries,that he is not so much

losinga daughterasgaininga son,Eliot tells herselfthat,asa successful"modem" writer, sheis not

detachingherselffrom the normsof her forefathers,but o'attaching," resuscitated

with a supposed respect

for old folkwaysin her writing, a new ageto her own. Sodoing,shehopesto replaceher habitual

conceptionof those"who ha[ve]morecunningthanhonestfolks couldcomeby. . . [not] us[ing] that

cunningin a neighbourlywat'' with her preferredsensethat "mind[s] . . . of extraordinaryacuteness

[servea role in their] . . . contemplat[ionof] the doingsof their fallible fellow-men"(77,102). Shehopes,

aswith Eppie,havingplacatedher "relations,"that shemight therebVbe freeto enjoythe firrits of her

/
own refinementwithout experiencingfeelingsof self-reproacnYn rsgffipossible that Eliot may not, at

heart,truly respecther forefathers.Indeed,therearesignsin the text that shethinksthat the povertyof

"ordinary farmers"(68), the prototypeinhabitantof our pastoralpast,might be a conditionthat they both

could and shouldhavefreedthemselvesfrom. We feel this whenshedrawsour attentionto how similar

in naturethe Raveloefarmersareto SquireCass,but becausetheyhave"slouchedtheir way throughlife

with a consciousness
of beingin the vicinity of their "betters,o'[they] wantthat self-possession
and
/
authoritativeness
of voice andcarriagewhich belong[s]to a manwho thoughtof superiorsasremote

existences"(68). Ultimately,perhapsRaveloe,for Eliot, is like the brownpot Silaskeepsby his hearth: it

is be kept andtendedto only while its mistreatmentmight seemto "bruise[her] . . . roots" (142),that is,

would provedisturbing.Justas Silas'stotemicrelic, the lastremaining

while its removalor replacement

pieceat book's endof his dwelling'sold furnishings,overtime might conceivablyonedaybe nothing

morethan a decrepitold pot to Silas,Raveloe,or the place,time, andpeopleRaveloere,presents,

might
 8
oneday for Eliot becomean irrelevant
old village peopledwith cowardry
and zuperstitioussimpletons.
consideringEliot's previousloving
sentiment,thoughts,andwords,
this developmentwourd seem
a
betrayalof her forefathers,but ..language
as sheherselftells us,
is a streamthat is almostsureto
smackof
a mingledsoil,,(7S). /

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