Far away in the curving sky were the pearly light and the many awakenings of men to labor and endurance. She was part of this involuntary and thrilling life, and could neither watch it from her luxurious shelter as a mere spectator, nor hide her eyes in selfish complaints. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get the original essay - Middlemarch The main goal of George Eliot's Middlemarch is to unleash the normally nebulous web of causality that shapes and guides all of humanity's affairs. By explaining the full extent of humanity's many varied experiences, the novel aspires to produce an understanding of our being that is both collective and enduring; it is a comprehensive “life experience” that strives to discover “enduring truths that would ennoble human existence.” But what are these truths and how can they be realized? Although the citizens of Middlemarch come from different backgrounds and suffer different fates, those who achieve happiness come to the same realization: they are part of a world and a struggle beyond their immediate selves . In her journey away from selfishness and alienated suffering toward humanistic sympathy, Dorothea is an early example of Eliot's theory of moral development. Although Dorothea is not a staunch egotist like the other residents of Middlemarch, she nevertheless displays an undue faith in the power of her actions. , a fault which rests on the same separation and ignorance of the larger world. This failure is characteristic of the first stage of Eliot's theory of moral development, in which the individual is the center of the world. The selfish behavior that results from this stage is a kind of game in which everyone trusts their own powers to supplant the rest of the world's forces. Such characters are incapable of imagining all the consequences of their own actions. But unlike Casaubon, Bulstrode, or Fred Vincy, Dorothea does not suffer from an inability to understand her effect on others. When she expresses sadness over the "feeling that she could always have done something better, if only she had been better and better known", it is clear that these "better" things are not selfish works like " The Key to all mythologies.” " but good works for others (Eliot, p. 835). Nor is she mired in the false selfish pretension that the world exists for her alone - as her plan to build better cottages on the domain of Sir James Indeed, the narrator lucidly states that “she [is] open, ardent and not at all admiring of herself” (Eliot, p. 10). opposite of selfishness - "voluntary submission" (Eliot, p. 29) Yet there is a temptation to declare - as Casaubon once does in a fit of anger - that one's religious beliefs are "caprices": adventures. unorthodox of a capricious fantasy (Eliot, p. 421) Such subjective cynicism is not entirely accurate, but it elucidates the tragedy of Dorothea's character her idealism has no real basis in the world; and thus appears “childish” and “stupid” (Eliot, p. 51). The fact that his quest is based on such naivety makes him share the same fate as any egoist: the fall into miserable solidarity. “All of Dorothea's passion was transfused through a mind struggling towards an ideal life”, unfortunately all “the radiance of her transfigured childhood fell on the first object that passed at the level of her eyes”: Casaubon (Eliot, p. 45). Even if “the union that attracted her was one of those thatwould deliver from her girlish submission to her own ignorance,” she is forced to endure heartbreaking pain on her path to “the greater path” (Eliot, p. 29). Dorothea's marriage to Casaubon represents a period of suffering and alienation that characterizes the second stage of Eliot's theory of moral development. Even though the marriage seemed founded on the best foundations: piety, devotion and erudite theological research - Dorothea is forced to recognize the cruelty of the world through this relationship. What is supposed to be a union of mutual contentment actually causes distant suffering because “under the wretched light she sees her own loneliness and that of her husband” (Eliot, p. 426). Under Casaubon, she is forced to “live more and more in a virtual tomb,” separated not only from the people and things that make her happy, but also from herself (Eliot, p. 475). She “awaits his glances trembling and locks up her best soul in prison, paying him only hidden visits, so that she may be mean enough to please him” (Eliot, p. 426). Society crushed a first idealist to the point of pettiness and "like a lost and tired person, she sat and saw as if at a single glance all the paths of her young hope that she would never find again never” (Eliot, p. 426). . Even after Casaubon's death, Dorothea is subject to alienation and torment because of his will, which states that if she marries her true love, Will Ladislaw, she will lose all the property she has inherited. In a tender moment, she confides her suffering to Will: “Grief comes in so many ways. Two years ago I had no idea - I mean the unexpected way trouble comes, ties our hands and silences us when we want to speak... I really enjoyed doing what I wanted to, but I almost gave up” (Eliot, p. 545). Committed to a vow of sadness, Dorothea seems to teeter on the edge of despair, but the realization that she is part of a larger world frees her from sadness. Faced with the most distressing realization of her life, Dorothea confronts the conflict between her family. individual desires and dedication to helping others, and understands that the two are in fact powerfully linked. In her subsequently redoubled efforts at compassion, she enters the third and final stage of moral development: sympathy. She comes across Rosamond and Will holding hands and, realizing that she may never be able to kiss the man she loves, “sobs herself to sleep on the cold floor” (Eliot, p. 787). Yet Dorothea “forces herself to dwell on every detail and its possible meaning. Was she alone in the scene? Was it just his event? (Eliot, p. 787). She acknowledges that the answer is no; the incident is “connected with the life of another woman” (Eliot, p. 787). “This vivid sympathetic experience now returns to her in the form of power” and she propels herself “to the perfect right,” to a new level of compassion, saying: “'What shall I do, how shall I act? now, this “Every day, if I could grasp my own pain, force it into silence and think of these three? » (Eliot, p. 788). Dorothea realizes that she is part of the larger world and that “the objects of her rescue [are] not to be sought by her imagination” but rather “chosen for her” (Eliot, p. 788). She decides to return to Rosamond and urge her to remain faithful to her own marriage. Dorothea's words are representative of a new knowledge of sympathy, of a calling that goes beyond one's own desires or pain. Compassion is no longer the fulfillment of a higher purpose; it is a necessary responsibility towards one's life and that of others. In this way,, 1965.