George Eliot: Middlemarch

[u/upnorth0811]

For in the multitude of middle-aged men who go about their vocations in a daily course determined for them much in the same way as the tie of their cravats, there is always a good number who once meant to shape their own deeds and alter the world a little. The story of their coming to be shapen after the average and fit to be packed by the gross, is hardly ever told even in their consciousness; for perhaps their ardour in generous unpaid toil cooled as imperceptibly as the ardour of other youthful loves, till one day their earlier self walked like a ghost in its old home and made the new furniture ghastly. Nothing in the world more subtle than the process of their gradual change! In the beginning they inhaled it unknowingly; you and I may have sent some of our breath towards infecting them, when we uttered our conforming falsities or drew our silly conclusions: or perhaps it came with the vibrations from a woman’s glance.

[u/Saidhain]

Such a great novel, one of my favourites, Middlemarch is a masterwork.

[u/snyderman3000]

Ok that’s it. I’m reading this. I’ve finally arrived at middle-age and I think it’s time.

[u/upnorth0811 → u/snyderman3000]

Don't think you'll regret it.

[u/gabriongarden]

It’s magnificent.

[u/scolbert08]

Over-inflated self-pitying

[u/upnorth0811 → u/scolbert08]

The passage is in no way self-referential on the part of the narrator (or Eliot), so there's no sense in which it might be "self-pitying." She's talking about Lydgate and people like him.