MY LIFE IN MIDDLEMARCH: 18 SONNETS

REBECCA MEAD, MY LIFE IN MIDDLEMARCH: 18 SONNETS (1) "That things," we learn, "are not so ill with you and me" As well they might have been, we halfway owe to those Who did their humble best within the lives they chose: [...]Middlemarch concludes, in tone of elegy, With praises of the ones who'd led so "faithfully A hidden life," and "rest" in "tombs" "unvisited." Yet passions of the head and searching heart Can Eliot to older people re-impart With "tolerance" renewed, and so we're nothing loth To be re-stimulated in re-empathy For younger folk's emotions and their limits: we Revive the tragic height, too dulled by "frequency." (13) A highlight of the book, for keen psychology, Consisted in a glance at Alexander Main, Who gave some readers pleasure, others major pain, With Witty, Wise, and Tender Sayings that would be, He hoped, and he persuaded Eliot, a source Of lucrative promotion in the marketplace. Yet Fred Vincy, Mary Garth remain, As "rooted" as their parents were, within the town; And they'll provide, for Mead, a happy winding-down Of all the story's drama, problems, losses, pain.