Thursday, October 14, 2021

The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot - BOOK BEGINNINGS

 


BOOK BEGINNINGS ON FRIDAYS

I'm continuing my celebration of Victober with another Victorian novel, The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot. 

What are you reading this week? Please share the first sentence (or so) here on Book Beginnings on Fridays. Add the link to your post in the linky box below. 

MY BOOK BEGINNING

A wide plain, where the broadening Floss hurries on between its green banks to the sea, and the loving tide, rushing to meet it, checks its passage with an impetuous embrace.
-- The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot. This one has been on my TBR shelf for a long time. Published in 1860, it is the story of Maggie Tulliver, her family struggles, romantic loves, and adoration of her brother. It is Eliot's most autobiographical novel. 

I finished The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins last week and loved it. The Moonstone was on my Classics Club list, so I'm making progress. The Mill on the Floss is definitely a classic, but not onw on my personal list of 50 classics to read in five years, which is what the Classics Club is all about. Are you a Classics Club participant? Join in if it sounds like fun!



YOUR BOOK BEGINNINGS

Please add the link to your post below and use the #bookbeginnings hashtag if you share on social media!

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THE FRIDAY 56

The Friday 56 hosted by Freda's Voice is a natural tie in with this event and there is a lot of cross over, so many people combine the two. The idea is to post a teaser from page 56 of the book you are reading and share a link to your post. Find details and the Linky for your Friday 56 post on Freda’s Voice.

MY FRIDAY 56

From The Mill on the Floss:
Tom was to arrive early in the afternoon, and there was another fluttering heart besides Maggie’s when it was late enough for the sound of the gig-wheels to be expected; for if Mrs. Tulliver had a strong feeling, it was fondness for her boy. At last the sound came—that quick light bowling of the gig-wheels—and in spite of the wind, which was blowing the clouds about, and was not likely to respect Mrs. Tulliver’s curls and cap-strings, she came outside the door, and even held her hand on Maggie’s offending head, forgetting all the griefs of the morning.



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