In 2010, at long last, I read Daniel Deronda. Now I can’t get the novel out of my head.
It is a novel of two parts. First there’s the story of the fatally self-absorbed yet entrancing Gwendolen Harleth, a young woman determined to secure her own and her family’s social and financial position in the only way open to a woman of her time, marriage. But the marriage, and the wealth and position that come with it bring only pain, to her and to others. In her distress she turns to Daniel Deronda as her only saviour as her quest changes into one for the betterment of her very soul.
Then there’s the impressively learned and, for its day, extraordinarily progressive and insightful look at what it means to be Jewish in Britain and in Europe. Here Daniel and the young Jewish singer, Mirah Lapidoth as well as Mirah’s brother Mordecai take centre stage. Mordecai embodies the wandering Jew, forever a stranger, never at home. Through Mordecai, both Daniel and the reader learn about the origins of Zionism. Those passages are as relevant today as they ever where, though Mordecai’s vision of ‘a new Judea, poised between East and West - a covenant of reconciliation - a halting-place of enmities, a neutral ground for the East,’ now seems tragically ironic...
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