'The Lifted Veil' by George Eliot

MY THOUGHTS: 

Just when I thought the beautiful Silas Marner was George Eliot's shortest book, I stumbled upon this novella. It's possibly her briefest piece of work, but her great grip of the ins and outs of the human psyche comes out as strongly as it does in tomes like Middlemarch. And the story's hero is the only first person narrator she ever used. 

Latimer is a highly strung, sensitive young man who suffers a fit of illness while studying abroad in his late teens. During his convalescence, he discovers a strange new power that dawns on him in flashes. He occasionally glimpses the future, and also reads into several people's genuine thoughts, rather than just the public veneer they assume through their speech and facial expressions. 

To his dad, Latimer is an arty write-off, and to his patronising, sporty brother Alfred, he's a sickly kid and a bit of a joke. Alfred's beautiful fiance Bertha is the only person whose inner thoughts Latimer can't fathom. This intrigues him, especially since she sometimes seems to give off subtle clues that she prefers him over Alfred. On the surface, Bertha comes across as cynical and unimaginative, but he can't tell for sure, and considers her an 'oasis of mystery in a dreary desert of knowledge.' He also appreciates being able to ask for her opinion with 'the real interest of ignorance.' 

I'm sure different readers will be torn over whether or not they even like Latimer as a main character. Ever ready to put on the tortured artist mantle, even though he admittedly never creates anything, he's arguably as selfish as those whose true colours appall him. He's always inward focused, resentful and jealous of his brother and full of self-pity for his lot in life. And the main reason he's infatuated with Bertha is chiefly because he wonders what she thinks of him. I get all that, but I like the potential we can see in him, including his fond memories of his dead mother and his flashes of compassion for his father. It's only a very occasional first person narrator I ever thoroughly dislike. 

In addition, I can't help warming to Latimer just a little bit because he's been shoved from a young age into a mold he doesn't fit. His father finds him impractical and insists that he focus on his weaknesses, mechanics and science, at the expense of his strengths, the study of poetry and inquisitiveness about human nature. At one point, Latimer says, 'I was glad of the running water. I could watch and listen to it without wanting to know why it ran. I had perfect confidence that there were good reasons for what was so very beautiful.' And humanities students everywhere probably echo, 'Hear hear!' 

The character of Bertha strikes me as a really interesting forerunner of Rosamond Vincy in Middlemarch. They're both beautiful, shallow girls with willowy figures and gorgeous blonde hair who are solely out for themselves. Throughout this story, Bertha is likened to a witch, a spider and a snake. As Latimer gets to know her better in the normal way of longer acquaintance, it starts to dawn on him that her soul is a very narrow room, and his appeal for her is based on her belief that he's head over heels in love with her, and potential putty in her hands. When she discovers that he's numb to the sort of worldly ambition and social incentives that drive her is when it starts getting really interesting.

It's a tale that draws on nineteenth century, pseudo sciences like phrenology and resurrection of the dead, giving it a sort of Gothic atmosphere. Nothing like the nineteenth century for engrossing reads, and this one will take you only an hour or two. I wasn't crazy about it. A bit too dark for me without likable characters, because even though I tried to like Latimer, I didn't quite succeed. But it's quite interesting for George Eliot fans to say we've ticked off an obscure read. 

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