The following text is adapted from George Eliot’s 1871–1872 novel Middlemarch.
Dorothea Brooke is contemplating the scholarly ambitions of her husband, Edward Casaubon.
Dorothea had believed that in marrying Mr. Casaubon she would be helping to construct a monumental edifice of knowledge that would illuminate ancient mythologies for all future ages. Yet day by day, as she sorted through piles of disconnected notes and half-filled notebooks in the dim library, the great work began to look less like an enduring monument than an impenetrable labyrinth leading nowhere. The massive synthesis remained unwritten, existing only in fragmentary outlines that seemed to multiply without advancing toward any definite conclusion.
Dorothea Brooke is contemplating the scholarly ambitions of her husband, Edward Casaubon.
Dorothea had believed that in marrying Mr. Casaubon she would be helping to construct a monumental edifice of knowledge that would illuminate ancient mythologies for all future ages. Yet day by day, as she sorted through piles of disconnected notes and half-filled notebooks in the dim library, the great work began to look less like an enduring monument than an impenetrable labyrinth leading nowhere. The massive synthesis remained unwritten, existing only in fragmentary outlines that seemed to multiply without advancing toward any definite conclusion.