Far away in the curved sky was the pearly light and the manifold awakening of men to work and resistance. She was part of that involuntary and pulsating life, and she could neither look out at it from her luxurious refuge as a simple spectator, nor hide her eyes in a selfish lament. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay - Middlemarch The primary purpose of George Eliot's Middlemarch is to unravel the normally nebulous web of causality that shapes and guides all of humanity's affairs. Explicating the full scope of humanity's many and diverse experiences, the novel aspires to produce an understanding of our being that is collective and enduring; it is a global "experiment in life" that tends towards the discovery of "lasting truths that would ennoble human existence". But what are these truths and how can they be achieved? Although the citizens of Middlemarch come from different backgrounds and bear different destinies, those who achieve happiness reach the same realization: they are part of a world and a struggle that goes beyond their immediate selves. In her path away from selfishness and alienated suffering towards humanistic sympathy, Dorothea is a prime example of Eliot's theory of moral development. Although Dorothea is not a selfish devotee like the other people in Middlemarch, she still displays undue faith in the power of her actions. , guilt that is based on the same separation and ignorance of the larger world. This failure is characteristic of the first phase of Eliot's theory of moral development, in which the self is the center of the world. The selfish behavior that results from this stage is a kind of gambling in which one places faith in one's own powers to replace the forces of the rest of the world. Such characters are unable to imagine all the consequences of their 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 there would always have been something better she could have done, if only she had been better and known better," it is clear that these "better" things are not self-serving works like "The Key to All Mythologies ". ' but good works for others (Eliot, p. 835). Nor is she mired in the selfish and false pretense that the world exists only for her, as evidenced by her plans to build better cottages on Sir James's estate. Indeed, the narrator lucidly states that "she [is] open, ardent and not at all admiring" (Eliot, p. 10). Rather, Dorothea is at the opposite end of the selfishness spectrum – “willing submission” (Eliot, p. 29). However, there is a temptation to declare – as Casaubon once does in a fit of rage – that his religious beliefs are “vague”: unorthodox adventures of capricious imagination (Eliot, p. 421). Such subjective cynicism is not entirely accurate, but it clarifies the tragedy of Dorothea's character; his idealism lacks real grounding in the world and therefore appears "childish" and "stupid" (Eliot, p. 51). The fact that her search is based on such naivety makes her share the same fate as any selfish person: the fall into miserable solidarity. “All Dorothea's passion was transfused through a mind striving towards an ideal life,” unfortunately all “the splendor of her transfigured childhood fell on the first object that came to her eye level”: Casaubon (Eliot, p. 45). Although "the union that attracted her was one that would free her from childish subjection to her own ignorance," she is forced to endure excruciating pain on her way to "the greater path" (Eliot,p. 29). Casaubon represents a period of suffering and alienation that distinguishes the second phase in Eliot's theory of moral development. Although the marriage seemed to be based on the best foundations: piety, devotion and theological and academic research: Dorothea is forced to recognize the cruelty of the world through the relationship. What should be a mutually satisfying union is in reality the cause of remote suffering as "in the miserable 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 looks with trembling, and locks her better soul in prison, paying her only secret visits, that she may be mean enough to please him" (Eliot, p. 426). Society reduced an early idealist to meanness and "like one who has lost his way and is weary, she sat down and saw at one glance all the paths of her young hope which she would never find again" (Eliot, p. 426 ). . Even after Casaubon's death, Dorothea is subjected to alienation and torment because of his will, which stipulates that if she marries her true love, Will Ladislaw, she will lose all the property she has inherited. In a tender moment she communicates her suffering to Will: "Pain comes in so many ways. Two years ago I had no idea - I mean the unexpected way trouble comes, and ties our hands, and silences us when we wish to talk... I really liked doing what I liked, but I have almost given it up" (Eliot, p. 545). Committed to a vow of grief, 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 faces the conflict between her individual desires and her devotion to helping others, and realizes that the two are in fact strongly intertwined. In his subsequently redoubled efforts at compassion he 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 embrace 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 her event?" (Eliot, p. 787). He recognizes that the answer is no; the incident is "linked to the life of another woman" (Eliot, p. 787). “This vivid experience of sympathy now returns to her as a power” and she pushes herself “toward the perfect Right,” to a new level of compassion, saying, “‘What should I do, how should I act now, this?” every day if I could grasp my pain, force it to silence, and think of those three?'" (Eliot, p. 788). Dorothea realizes that she is part of the larger world and that "the objects of her rescue [must ] not to be sought by her fancy" but rather "chosen for her" (Eliot, p. 788). He decides to return to Rosamond and urge her to remain faithful to her marriage. Dorothea's words are representative of a new awareness of sympathy , a calling that goes beyond his desires or his pain. Compassion is no longer the fulfillment of a higher purpose; it is a necessary responsibility towards his life and that of others 'being in all humanity and expresses an enduring and ennobling truth: a person's life depends not only on the will of oneself, but also on the empathy and good deeds of others. It ultimately lives up to the metaphor of the Prelude that sees her as a modern Saint Teresa; as the narrator writes, “The effect of her being on those who her, 1965.