That moment before everything changes...

There’s something so powerfully magical in the brief scene where Margaret is waiting to see Mr. Thornton in his office. It’s the vantage point of the repeat viewer that makes it so. We know what Margaret doesn’t—that the most significant encounter of her life is about to happen. These are the few quiet moments before she bursts into John Thornton’s world.

Margaret studies the mill yard scene. (From the BBC’s production of North and South.)

Brought by the overseer to wait for the Master, Margaret is impatient to resolve the details of renting the house in Crampton. She needs to get back to her father, so she can’t wait around forever. But she takes some time to take in the scene around her. She can’t help being curious about the factory setting of the town her family is moving to.

I always hold my breath when she stops to look closer at the writing in the open ledger. I tell myself that she is examining the handwriting of the man who will become her husband. It never fails to send my romantic heart all aflutter to imagine how intimately her life will be intwined with the man who wrote those very figures and words.

It’s almost as if she’s drawn to look and doesn’t know why—as if the power of his presence pervades the room and speaks to her from the pages. And all the while we know that she has no idea of the significance of the impending moment.

Am I the only one who feels the suspense building in this scene? I adore it. It’s a brilliant device by the screenplay writer. Margaret’s contemplative solitude is a silent contrast to the cacophony and activity of the machinery and factory workers she finds behind the sliding door.

The scene where Margaret opens the door to a world of falling cotton “snow” is as impactful as the famous film moment when Dorothy opens the door of the fallen drab Kansas farmhouse to discover a whole new world of brilliant color.

Nothing has prepared Margaret for the sights and sounds before her.

What makes the “waiting” scene so compelling is that it feels so commonplace to us. We’ve all been in similar situations—kept waiting. It’s a regular part of life to wait. We have moments of being held stationary while we long to push forward with our outlined agenda.

And sometimes—just sometimes—something happens to change the course of our lives. And we may not even recognize it at first.

Not everyone will have an encounter as spectacularly surprising as Margaret Hale when she first meets her husband-to-be. But we can have moments of uexpected discoveries and encounters that lead to new paths we hadn’t foreseen.

During this time of collective waiting, I hope we’re all headed for some pleasant surprises and unexpected encounters that lead to higher satisfaction, joy, and good for all humanity.

Did Margaret Hale bake?

Fanny hovers over the offered sweets. Were these bought from the bakery?

With so many people spending more time creating in their kitchens this stay-home year, could there be a more timely topic to round out the year?

There’s no indication that Margaret spent time in her kitchen either in Helstone or in Milton. According to Gaskell’s North and South, the Hales kept a cook in Helstone, besides having a house-maid and Dixon, a ladies maid. In Milton it was difficult to find help and Dixon had to take up regular household duties that had once previous been beneath her.

When Mr. Hale announces that Mr. Thornton is coming to tea, Margaret offers to help with some of the day’s work, but it’s not to do any of the baking:

“…we will give [Mr. Thornton] a welcome, and some cocoa-nut cakes. Dixon will be flattered if we ask her to make some; and I will undertake to iron your caps, mamma.”

Mrs. Hale is distressed at the thought of her daughter helping out with the laundry down in the kitchen. Evidently, a gentleman’s daughter was not expected to have to do daily drudgery. It appears likely that Margaret may never have learned to cook or bake.

Certainly, Margaret would never have set foot in the kitchen at Aunt Shaw’s unless it was to relay orders. Learning to cook and bake would not have been on the list of things for Edith to learn. She would never have been expected to do the cooking. Both girls would have been taught, however, how to serve tea.

Alas, does this mean that Margaret would never bake a special batch of treats for her husband once married? Who knows! Both Margaret and John both pushed against being constrained by tradition or class rules. If she had the impulse to bake something herself, I’m sure she would do so. But Margaret Thornton wouldn’t need to do housework or kitchen work.

Apple pie

I, on the other hand, have been enjoying playing in the kitchen. I’ve been spending more time than ever baking and am grateful for a productive hobby to keep me busy while staying home with the family for months on end.

I also love watching and re-watching The British Baking Show. I sometimes put it on for background noise while I’m in the kitchen.

Although I would LOVE to have food made for me, I think I would miss baking. It’s a creative outlet that satisfies — in more ways than one!

My mother was always baking pie, brownies, cookies or cakes. Dessert means “I love you” in my family’s parlance.

Baking is making a tremendous resurgence right now. Are you spending more time baking? What have you made?

The traditional Christmas cookies for the kids to decorate.

Moving forward through the darkness

Searching for a gleam of light

There’s a tremendous amount of gloom and tragedy in North and South. Margaret Hale and John Thornton suffer great loss and struggle mightily to keep going, but they both find the strength to get up every day and continue on.

Gaskell’s story could be seen as a glimpse into the hardest three years of Margaret’s life. Seven deaths occur in North and South and all of them impact Margaret Hale. The four most personally felt—the deaths of Bessy, her mother, father and Mr. Bell—all take place within two years. Imagine suffering such a string of catastrophic losses at the age of nineteen or twenty!

Margaret’s first calamity is being forced to leave a beloved home. Moving to Milton is a harsh change for her, although there are definitely some hidden silver linings! But on the whole, things continue to worsen for her as her mother becomes more ill and Margaret finds herself constantly arguing with her father’s favorite student. Margaret’s main motivation through this stage of the story is to support her parents as best she can.

But before long, conditions and events in this new town begin to spiral completely out of control:

• Her mother’s health takes a turn for the worse.

• She gets injured trying to single-handedly stop a riot.

• Her father’s best friend suddenly professes his love to her.

• She forcefully rejects the town’s most eligible bachelor.

• her new (and only) Milton friend dies.

Margaret still keeps going rather bravely for weeks until everything crashes to a halt with her mother’s death. But even then, Margaret does not have the luxury to break down and grieve. The very next evening she takes Fred to the station and everything goes terribly wrong. (Poor Margaret is caught up in dangerous violence again!) Mr. Thornton sees her with Frederick and she is forced to lie to the police.

This is a dark time for Margaret. Feeling she’s lost the respect of Mr. Thornton, and condemning herself for lying, she has lost some respect for herself in the bargain. She moves through life with no cheerfulness, trying to help others. Gaskell describes this period of gloom poignantly:

The dreary peacefulness of the present time had been preceded by so long a period of anxiety and care — even intermixed with some storms — that her mind had lost its elasticity. She tried to find herself occupation in teaching the two younger Boucher children, and worked hard at goodness…for her heart seemed dead to the end of all her efforts…her life seemed still bleak and dreary. The only thing she did well, was what she did out of unconscious piety, the silent comforting and consoling of her father.

The last goodbye

Little did she know that this barren, calm period was only the receding wave, gathering in silence to unleash the final crashing wave of loss.

At the news of her father’s unexpected death, Margaret finally breaks down. She cannot rise from her grief and despair for several days. These are her darkest days, when she no longer has a family to live for, and is convinced she has lost the chance to have one of her own.

Margaret’s existence in London is almost mechanical. She has no heart for the life Edith leads and feels her soul revive only when alone with Edith’s toddler son or hearing someone talk of Milton. She spends several months in this mode of barely living before she searches deep inside to find a guiding principle to follow.

Mr. Bell’s sudden death causes Margaret to pray “that she might have strength to speak and act the truth forevermore.” To discover what that truth means to her, Margaret spends day after day sitting at the beach, contemplating her life until “she turned with all her heart and strength to the life that lay immediately before her, and resolved to strive and make the best of that.”

She returns to London with new vigor, taking “her life into her own hands” and acknowledging “her right to follow her own ideas of duty.” For Margaret, this means taking time to help the poor in London. Margaret finds life-giving meaning in helping others. It sustains her by giving her purpose, activity, and a sense of doing good. And although she still feels the pain of losing what might have been with Thornton, she has found a way to bring light into her life and move forward.

Of course Margaret is not the only one pushing valiantly on through a seeming tunnel of darkness. When we meet John Thornton, he has already passed through the signal tragedy of his life: his father’s suicide. The manner in which he and his mother fought through this deep trial to become outstanding members of society shows the great strength of character this man possesses.

But with Margaret’s arrival to Milton, the scene is set for Mr. Thornton to endure another great test of his strength. Her rejection of him shrouds his future in darkness, but he still has the mill to occupy his mind and the “stinging pleasure” of seeing her occasionally. It’s when she leaves Milton, that he is cast into a deep despair, as the famous scene in the BBC adaptation encapsulates so perfectly.

So, at the same time that Margaret is in London living a stoic half-life, going through the motions of life with barely any hope or joy—John Thornton is living a similar emptiness as he continues on without hope of having the life he truly wants.

Ah, but it gets worse. With the financial collapse of the mill, John is deprived of the purposeful work that keeps him going. Facing the loss of his lifework as well as the loss of Margaret as a life-partner, John stands on the brink of—for a second time in his existence—a deep chasm of darkness.

It is this battle-weary John Thornton that appears in my short story “Once Again.” I explore his inner struggle as he goes to London to sign the papers that gives up his connection to the mill.

My admiration for his strength deepened as I realized how much pain it must have caused him to see Margaret again, thinking she was destined to become another man’s wife. He could have declined the offer to dine at Aunt Shaw’s, but he must have been compelled to look upon the object of his deep passion once again. And so he goes to dinner….

I hope you’ll want to read how I portray his experience in London as he tries to move forward in spite of the gloom.

And what is it that propels him forward? It’s the same spirit that Margaret clings to: the desire to do right; the desire to be helpful to others. He won’t take work that only concentrates on the profit-motive. He wants to find work that will lift other men up in significant ways.

When his mother is lost in despair at the mill’s failure, she asks him what he will do—and he replies with this incredible, but time-tested battle cry in his darkest hour:

Be always the same John Thornton in whatever circumstances; endeavoring to do right, and making great blunders; and then trying to be brave in setting to afresh. But it is hard, mother. I have so worked and planned. I have discovered new powers in my situation too late — and now it is all over. I am too old to begin again with the same heart. It is hard, mother.

It’s because of the depth of darkness that both John and Margaret endure that it’s so heartening to see them find each other. We can feel how strongly united their spirits are. We know that the light of their love is going to be shining brightly for them through their future trials together.

Despite personal and global unrest, strife and tragedy—I hope people can find the courage and strength to continue their struggle for bringing out good in the world. We need each and every one who has a heart to help others to keep going.

We’re going to make it out into the light.

Margaret Hale's been crying

Margaret Hale cries. A lot. Well, not in the BBC mini-series so much, but she cries an awful lot in Gaskell's book. Did you realize that? I knew there was much more lacrimal action going on in the book than the film ever portrays, but even I was surprised by my research on the subject.

She cries 31 times. Yes, I read the whole book and counted. Stay tuned, because a little later I'll be analyzing why and when Margaret Hale sheds tears throughout her trials in North and South. Complete with graphs and all.

And now you know how serious my North and South affliction is. But I'll assume that if you're reading this, you must have somewhat of a thing for North and South, too. 

What difference does it make whether Margaret cries or not? Let me tell you why I bothered to count her crying moments in the first place.

From the wide variety of comments, reviews, and summaries regarding North and South I've read over the years, I've regularly come across a strain of viewers/readers that tend to envision Margaret as the embodiment of more modern heroic ideals of feminine confidence and independence. This version of Margaret is always able to handle whatever comes her way, seldom or never breaks down, needs little or no aid from others, carves her own path in life, and seems always ready to give a piece of her mind to those who don't see the world as she does. 

And this view of an ever-strong and capable Margaret Hale is given a boost by the BBC's portrayal of Margaret, where we seldom see her at her most vulnerable moments. The 2004 mini-series conveniently avoids showing an unconscious Margaret being carried into the Thorntons' house. The adaptation also omits Margaret's collapse into unconsciousness following the intense questioning of the police inspector. We see Margaret cry once throughout the entire film version -- at her mother's death. Clearly, Margaret is made of pretty stern stuff. She seldom appears to lose control.

How did Margaret get from here ....

.... to here? The 2004 BBC adaptation will let you guess.

The 1975 adaptation doesn't skip over this very vulnerable moment.    

Why does this matter? Because the modern adaptation's choice to leave out moments when Margaret could appear weak, vulnerable, or over-emotional is a choice to present a more idealistic vision of female fortitude for twenty-first century viewers. And I'm ok with that for the most part; I really don't like the soppier version of Margaret presented in the 1975 adaptation. But I do think it's important to take a closer look at how Gaskell portrays Margaret so that we can get a more complete and realistic picture of the emotional turbulence going on in this nineteen year-old Victorian. (Margaret is only 19 during the height of the story's drama. See my timeline here.) 

The essential question we should ask is whether Margaret can be considered a model of strength despite the fact that she cries at times. Is crying a sign of weakness? Is it an embarrassing symbol of feminine sensitivity? Of incapacity or immaturity? 

Crying can become excessive and indicate shrinking fear, self-pity, or over-sensitivity that is not admirable. But if crying is something of an emotional release valve for those going through deep trials, then crying is wholly human; it indicates that we actually have a heart--which is a good thing. I'd be more wary of someone who doesn't cry in moments of extreme emotional anguish, grief, or despairing exhaustion. 

At the very least, we know that with all the crying going on, Margaret Hale indeed does have a heart -- even if she keeps it very well hidden from brooding cotton mill masters.

In my curiosity to see how many times Margaret cried, I marked each instance down and jotted a little note. Of course, categorizing and counting cries is hardly an objective task. What counts as a cry in my analysis? I counted not only clearly described sobbing and wet cheeks, but also when tears welled up and one instance in particular when she was "choking and swallowing" to fight back tears.

Why she cried was also my subjective judgement. I endeavored to interpret the reason she cried from the immediate procuring cause and any underlying cause that I perceived lurked behind the tears. We all cry for compounded reasons, but I tried to classify the predominant factor. For example, when Thornton comes to offer his condolences after her mother's death, he speaks so tenderly that he evokes tears from her. Is this a cry because of her mother's death or because his gentleness reminds her of her lost chances (she thinks) with him? I marked this cry as one caused by grief since it so closely followed the loss of her mother.

Now let's take a look at my categorization for why Margaret Hale shed tears throughout her three year trial in North and South. 

Reasons for Crying

The most shocking revelation from the above graph is that despite all the other reasons for crying: being ripped away from a beloved home, dealing with multiple deaths and unending family trials -- it's her strong feelings concerning John Thornton that's the number one reason she loses control of her emotions in the novel. She cries after Mrs. Thornton comes to chew her out, she cries when she confesses to her father that she rejected Thornton, and she cries when she explains to Mr. Bell what Mr. Thornton must think of her. 

When she Cries

And now for a very general overview of when Margaret cries throughout the story. There's not much surprise here. Margaret's problems started with that fatal day when Henry proposed and her father told her they were moving -- her trials only accumulated and intensified from there. After the proposal, just about every thing in her life is falling apart. 

Before and After Proposal Cries

Thornton's declaration of love is a reverberating climax, and it also conveniently marks the halfway point of the novel. It's not really a surprise that Margaret gets twice as tearful in the second half of this story because that's precisely when her troubles begin to compound and things get complicated. You can look at this graph also as a division of the BBC mini-series. Episodes 1 and 2 constitute the first half and episodes 3 and 4 follow the climactic midpoint: Thornton's proposal. And seriously, wouldn't you cry too if you declined Richard Armitage/John Thornton's offer of eternal devotion?!

So, back to my essential question -- can Margaret still be considered a admirable bastion of strength, even with all her moments of weeping and tear-filled eyes? You bet she can! Her emotional strength is impressive considering her age and the situations she is forced to deal with. How well would you hold up if you had to juggle fulfilling your mother's dying wish, preventing your father from slipping into depression, making maneuvers to keep your brother from dying a traitor's death while at the same time inadvertently screwing up your relationship with the man of your dreams? Oh, and your best friend dies about the same time as your mother. Good times, right?

I have to wonder how she even found the courage to get out of bed some mornings! I really admire her strength through the slew of non-stop trials she endures. She certainly demonstrates strength according to my view of the ideal, which includes the following aspects:

• Ability to keep moving/acting even when some days you are just surviving instead of moving forward. The ability to keep going when everything seems to be falling apart.
• Not succumbing to despair, bitterness.
• Determination of individual purpose -- you define what you're living for.
• Ability to put personal pleasure and ease aside in the endeavor to follow your ideals.
• Rising to the occasion when others are incapable of leading.
• Persisting in endeavoring to do what is right.

I can't help but think of other classic heroines who portrayed this kind of strength: Jane Eyre, Elinor Dashwood (Sense & Sensibility), Anne Elliot (Persuasion), and Molly Gibson (Wives & Daughters)

Do strong women cry? They certainly do.

Hard Times: Dickens' own "Milton" tale

A Manufacturing Town (1922) - L.S. Lowry

How does Charles Dickens' Hard Times compare to North and South?  I've wondered about this for years, ever since I heard that Hard Times was also an industrial novel. These two stories even appeared back-to-back in 1854. Dickens ran his story in weekly installments from April to August in his magazine, Household Words. Gaskell's story ran from September to January of the following year.

How are these two works similar? Well, in Dickens' book there is a dirty industrial town, a self-made manufacturer (with a mother who worships him!), a poor weaver with integrity and soul, and a heroine who doesn't know her own heart.

And there are similar strains in highlighting what is lacking in the industrial society of the day. Dickens' overall theme boils down to a warning that in the intellectual and self-satisfied excitement of lauding science and industry, it is vital to remember that humans are not machines or numbers, but individuals who need nurturing and care. Focusing on facts, statistics, bank accounts (and social esteem) deadens us to matters of humanity. It's the lower classes--Cissy Jupe, Stephen Blackpool, and Rachel--who understand what life is really about: love.

The most pointed difference, for me, between Hard Times and North and South is in the depth of the characters drawn by the author. Dickens uses exaggerated characters to make his pointed social commentary. It's difficult to feel an intimate connection with characters that are more symbolic than realistic. I felt the most sympathetic connection with the poor weaver, Stephen Blackpool, whose situation and hope reflects the reality of many hard-worn lives of every century. With Gaskell's characters, I can sympathize with each and every one for their very human faults, habits, and virtues. 

Oh, but I love Hard Times'  comedic Mrs. Sparsit! What a perfectly conniving, presumptuous old fortune-seeker! It was glorious to see her get taken down. The scene in which she gleefully endures pouring rain and muddy terrain to spy on her nemesis was fantastically described. This part was Dickens at his best for descriptions and character revelation. She may be my favorite Dickens character yet!
 

Mrs. Sparsit and Mr. Bounderby

Of course, anyone who loves North and South, will be interested in Dickens' dark description of "Milton."

It was a town of red brick, or of brick that would have been red if the smoke and ashes had allowed it; but as matters stood, it was a town of unnatural red and black like the painted face of a savage. It was a town of machinery and tall chimneys, out of which interminable serpents of smoke trailed themselves for ever and ever, and never got uncoiled. It had a black canal in it, and a river that ran purple with ill-smelling dye, and vast piles of building full of windows where there was a rattling and a trembling all day long, and where the piston of the steam-engine worked monotonously up and down, like the head of an elephant in a state of melancholy madness.

It contained several large streets all very like one another, and many small streets still more like one another, inhabited by people equally like one another, who all went in and out at the same hours, with the same sound upon the same pavements, to do the same work, and to whom every day was the same as yesterday and to-morrow, and every year the counterpart of the last and the next.

I really enjoyed reading a shorter work of Dickens. The intricate weaving of the characters into the building plot is Dickens' usual genius. In this story, no scene is superfluous. Every early scene lays the groundwork for the coming climax.

Overall, I liked this better than the over-rated Great Expectations, and maybe even better than Little Dorrit and Bleak House, where I found the length of the novel sometimes tedious. My romantic side would have loved to see a happier ending for a few of the characters, but considering the title of the book I'll suppress my complaint. Nothing here can compare to the romance in North and South.

And that self-made manufacturer in Hard Times? Definitely not John Thornton material! Josiah Bounderby is a pompous old windbag. Sorry about that. But who could compete with John Thornton anyway?

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North and South: never more relevant than today

It's More Than Thornton's one year anniversary! To celebrate, I'm reposting my very first blog piece:

January 21, 2016

If you're like me, you first discovered Gaskell's story as a captivating drama on film. The BBC's television adaptation of North and South made Milton come to life, and brought a little known romantic hero -- John Thornton -- into glorious, palpitating presence on the world stage with a reverberating gasp.

Strangely enough, I didn't feel the impact of my first viewing like I'd been struck by lightening. I only re-watched the ending once (or maybe twice!). I didn't even realize how much I had been pulled into the power of the drama until I found myself constantly reimagining scenes and wondering about the characters's feelings. I plunged into C19 (an Internet forum) within days, because I needed to ask questions. I needed to talk to someone about this story. And I've really never stopped wanting to talk about it.

I've since fallen in love with Gaskell's book. I regularly see its relevance to all the pressing issues of our world today. Gaskell had a heart and mind that saw the human scene with hope.

North and South turned me into an author, it introduced me to a new world of friends and fanship, and it inspired me to dive into similar classic novels. I owe much to Gaskell's North and South, as it's given me so much to think about and to share with others. 

So what does North and South mean to me? It means so many things that lay close to my heart, that it seems daunting to try to explain. But here (beyond the fervent appeal of the gold standard for all romantic literary heroes -- John Thornton) are some of the many hopes, ideals, and concepts found in North and South that invigorate my soul and enliven my heart:

Love. Love in all its variations: erotic and romantic love, brotherly affection, self-sacrificing duty, genuine respect, and consideration for others.

The utter necessity of individuality -- forging your own path and living your own values.

Moral courage -- the strength and determination that moves us forward in crushing circumstances.

Widening our view of the world and our sphere of caring -- interacting with and learning from those different from us.

Seeing past class, gender, religion, and economic status to the equal worthiness of every human being.

Loneliness and the desperation of being misunderstood, and the corresponding desire to cherish and to be cherished.

The overpowering yearning to do good in this world, not just exist in it.

Striving for what matters most.

The possibility of a kinder, gentler capitalism that contributes to humanity's progress.

Hope of harmony in relating to our fellow beings. Finding unity among all mankind.

Finding home, finding our purpose.

These are just some of the many themes that make North and South my favorite novel of romantic love and Elizabeth Gaskell a favorite author for her hope for humanity. 

What does North and South mean to you?

John Thornton and a more intelligent capitalism

John Thornton -- the good capitalist

I readily admit that the romance is my favorite part of North and South, but I'm also passionate about Elizabeth Gaskell's vision of a more humanitarian capitalism. The softening of the stern Milton master is one of the most beautiful developments of the story. And today, as the world continues to search for the proper role of capitalism in human governments, John Thornton's example offers a ray of hope that society can incorporate humanitarian values into the sphere of commerce and industry.

At the same time that Gaskell was writing fictionalized accounts of contemporary life, Karl Marx was issuing forth his anti-capitalist works. The misery of the lower classes in this early industrial period is well documented. With few regulations to protect them and no voting rights, the poor were at the mercy of those in positions of power. As industrialism swept more people into its workings, Gaskell's novel seems to be asking: what is capitalism's role in humanity's progress? The answer she provides can be found as we watch Thornton slowly evolve his stance as a powerful businessman with far-reaching influence.

When we first meet Thornton, he is an autocrat who is fully involved in pursuing productive excellence and efficiency. He believes the only moral duty to his employees (beyond his regular honesty in all his dealings) is to embody the model of self-control and diligence that has made his own business successful. He takes little or no account of workers' concerns and resists involving himself any further in his workers' lives, claiming that it would be an interference of their independence. 

It is Thornton's initial detachment from his employees that fosters the distrust, ignorance, and hatred that is destined to be destructive. 

The autocratic ruler of Marlborough Mills

Margaret's consistent demand that he consider a deeper moral obligation to the leagues of men under his employ slowly opens Thornton's consciousness to broader possibilities. And through his contact with Higgins, he creates a new relationship with his workers -- a relationship that is on more equal footing, where no one side has all the right answers. In an atmosphere of basic respect where differing parties can regularly interact and communicate with each other, animosity is deflated and friendships are born. (It's a sweet yet astonishing bonus for the tight-lipped, reclusive manager that he finds in Higgins a personal friend!)

It may be easy to dismiss Thornton's eventual success with his workers as happy fiction, but I believe that in Thornton's establishment of a workers' kitchen at Marlborough Mills, we can distinguish the elements required for a practical model of a kinder, gentler capitalism. It is a living example of how a working blend of business principles and humanitarian concepts might take shape.

In the natural course of his developing friendship with Higgins, Thornton becomes aware that the men don't often eat well. It is Thornton's idea to purchase food in bulk in order to supply the workers an affordable meal. But this is not, as Thornton later makes clear to Mr. Bell (and again to Mr. Colthurst of the book), a charity effort on his part. Thornton delegates the task of working out the details of setting up and running a kitchen largely to the men. It's a collaborative endeavor that Thornton invests in to improve the well-being of his workers. The end result is a win-win situation. Thornton's men are comparatively better workers for being fortified with decent food, and the men are offered an affordable and convenient meal at noontime. Both sides participate, both benefit.

Thornton mingles with his workers.

Thornton enjoys this expanded model of a humanitarian business so much that he refuses to take work without this new worldview in mind. He declines work as a partner with Hamper's son, who he knows as a vain, merciless capitalist who seeks only personal profit. Thornton is eager to expand his concept of success, purpose, and progress beyond the scope of mere monetary gain. He has a driving desire to explore how lives might be improved in the course of operating a capital enterprise.

Thornton's model of working with his men -- knowing many of them by name, seeing some them occasionally at Higgins' home -- builds the human relationships that support his business when Marlborough Mills begins to decline. The workers take it upon themselves to finish work without pay. The loyalty and respect Thornton has earned increases his business's chances to succeed when business profits are down.

And when Marlborough Mills closes its doors, the men sign a round-robin to say that they will come work for Thornton again if he ever manages another capital enterprise. Thornton's humility and honesty has created great respect among his colleagues. His honest and earnest cooperation and collaboration with his employees has earned him the trust and loyalty of his workers. And it is this relationship of mutual trust and respect that will allow Thornton to re-open his doors and begin again the adventure of finding ways to improve the lives of others while creating a successful business.

In sum, a more intelligent capitalism takes far more than mere profit and statistical productivity into account. If the essential purpose of any business is to provide goods and services to improve the lives of fellow beings, then why should the purpose be limited to customers and investors? Isn't it also essential to improve the lives of the employees who make the enterprise function? The cost of not caring for your workers can be high -- as Thornton discovered in the strike that eventually undermined the economic stability of the mill. 

A truly wise capitalist will take care to remember that his business involves meeting the concerns of humanity at every level of operation. A disregard of human concerns eventually creates problems that are destructive to the whole of society. And that kind of heartless capitalism can never be considered good or intelligent, since it leaves out the most important part of being alive -- having a heart.

Should Gaskell's 'Mary Barton' be made into film?

Photo by Mike Hogan/BBC

According to IMDb, the BBC already adapted Elizabeth Gaskell's first novel -- way back in 1964! Made into 4 episodes, the film is believed to be lost. (How do films get lost?) 

Four years ago, The Guardian announced that the BBC had plans to adapt Mary Barton, quoting Heidi Thomas (creator and writer of Call the Midwife) as saying she was eager to turn the novel into film. See the full article here.

There's certainly a lot of material in Mary Barton similar in nature to North and South:

Dirty, smokey old Milton   √

Struggle between masters and workers  √

Proud female protagonist who shuns the best catch of the town  √

Hard-working, devoted hero who must wait for idiot woman to come around √

An impressive tally of deaths √

Problematic father  √

If you thought North and South was dark and dreary, Mary Barton will take you even further into the stark lives of the working class.

Higgins and the working class in the BBC's 'North and South.'

The drama level rises several notches above North and South; with violence, tragedy, and perilous situations all vying to excite the reader's emotions.

Mary Barton definitely has the potential to make great screen drama. I hope the BBC picks up this apparently shelved project someday. I would love to watch another Gaskell story unfold on film.

Now that I've piqued your interest in the novel, I hope you'll be intrigued enough to come join me in a group read! For the next 6 weeks, I'll be hosting a group read of Mary Barton at Goodreads. Anyone is welcome to join us here.

And just to make sure you understand...

...there is no John Thornton in this story. He does not make an appearance as one of the evil mill masters.

But I hope you'll try reading Mary Barton anyway. Hints of Thornton's world abound.

What does North and South mean to you?

If you're like me, you first discovered Gaskell's story as a captivating drama on film. The BBC's television adaptation of North and South made Milton come to life, and brought a little known romantic hero -- John Thornton -- into glorious, palpitating presence on the world stage with a reverberating gasp.

Strangely enough, I didn't feel the impact of my first viewing like I'd been struck by lightening. I only re-watched the ending once (or maybe twice!). I didn't even realize how much I had been pulled into the power of the drama until I found myself constantly reimagining scenes and wondering about the characters's feelings. I plunged into C19 (an Internet forum) within days, because I needed to ask questions. I needed to talk to someone about this story. And I've really never stopped wanting to talk about it.

I've since fallen in love with Gaskell's book. I regularly see its relevance to all the pressing issues of our world today. Gaskell had a heart and mind that saw the human scene with hope.

North and South turned me into an author, it introduced me to a new world of friends and fanship, and it inspired me to dive into similar classic novels. I owe much to Gaskell's North and South, as it's given me so much to think about and to share with others. 

So what does North and South mean to me? It means so many things that lay close to my heart, that it seems daunting to try to explain. But here (beyond the fervent appeal of the gold standard for all romantic literary heroes -- John Thornton) are some of the many hopes, ideals, and concepts found in North and South that invigorate my soul and enliven my heart:

Love. Love in all its variations: erotic and romantic love, brotherly affection, self-sacrificing duty, genuine respect, and consideration for others.

The utter necessity of individuality -- forging your own path and living your own values.

Moral courage -- the strength and determination that moves us forward in crushing circumstances.

Widening our view of the world and our sphere of caring -- interacting with and learning from those different from us.

Seeing past class, gender, religion, and economic status to the equal worthiness of every human being.

Loneliness and the desperation of being misunderstood, and the corresponding desire to cherish and to be cherished.

The overpowering yearning to do good in this world, not just exist in it.

Striving for what matters most.

The possibility of a kinder, gentler capitalism that contributes to humanity's progress.

Hope of harmony in relating to our fellow beings. Finding unity among all mankind.

Finding home, finding our purpose.

These are just some of the many themes that make North and South my favorite novel of romantic love and Elizabeth Gaskell a favorite author for her hope for humanity. 

What does North and South mean to you?