At the height of the age of decorum and manners, this little comedic novel pokes fun at precisely these treasured trimmings of Victorian society. Cranford, Elizabeth Gaskell’s second novel, chronicles several episodes from the lives of a group of spinsterly ladies living in a quaint village that moves somewhat behind the times. The rigid customs and habits of the barely middle-class ladies of Cranford the narrator humourously exposes as eccentric, but endearingly so, showing how affected formalities and practices can actually build authentic community. For Gaskell, communal values supersede class values; the customs of class do not define people to their core.
While typical Victorian novels uphold romantic, marital love as the penultimate relationship, Cranford appreciates sisterly and neighbourly love. Christians, too, often idolize the love between husband and wife as the sublime picture of Christ and his bride (the church), forgetting the other picture of humble submission and kindness – love between brothers and sisters within the body of Christ. Cranford reminds us that there is a place in the body of Christ for all people, married or celibate, fertile or barren.
While Gaskell does not choose to include any direct Biblical expositions in this novel, as she does in others, Cranford still illustrates Christian values of compassion, honesty and forgiveness, probably best summed up in Jesus’ words (quoting from the Old Testament Law) “Love your neighbour,” the second highest commandment after loving God. For Gaskell, in this novel as in others, we are not meant to live alone but were destined for community, and the fullest life is partaking in a community operating under Christian values, in whatever curious fashion they may express themselves.
This tale of forbidden romance on the wild, rugged moors is sure to please any Jane Eyre fan. But with guns, outlaws, highway robberies and horse-riding men of brawn you might want to pass this English western onto a male in your life once you’re finished with it (or vice versa). (And somebody ought to tell John Eldredge and co. about this one.)
However, the book dived into sudden hilarity in chapter 11 with flying sofas and “legless” women and Trollope’s much celebrated sense of humour became more obvious. The story eventually unfolded a romantic comedy with many hilarious mishaps and misunderstandings, all amid the setting of the stuffy and magisterial Anglican church in mid-19th century England. Trollope tackles absurdity, immorality and superficiality in the church without fear, always with a dose of humour, and even sometimes with outright buffoonery.
Young women coming of age in an English village, the suspense of an impossible love attraction and comically shallow relations and neighbours combine for an endearing, absorbing read. Gaskell’s writing exudes subtle wit and irony reminiscent of Austen (which I’ve yet to find in a contemporary novel, though Austen fan fiction writers try their best). At seven hundred pages, however, this hefty book covers more ground than Austen novels do, including the topic of death, which never makes an appearance in Austen.
Christian Victorian Literature 