The Obscure Reading Group discussion

I found the second half of this book quite compelling, as by then Gissing had all his plots and subplots in the air and each character willing to surprise. How about you?

Some possible lines of thought:

1. Clara vs. Jane. Which character is more realistic? More sympathetic? Did you, like me, learn that "vitriol" was more than an abstract thing?

2. Jos. Snowden -- the Good, the Bad, or the Ugly? Make your own spaghetti western with this guy. I didn't know what to make of him.

3. Kirkwood. He sort of lost me down the stretch of this book. Or maybe Gissing's use of his character lost me. I said, "Really?" when he married "a family," so to speak.

4. Bob Hewitt. Pitiful or pitiable? I always have to look up the difference, but he's as good a poster boy for Nether Worlds as you could want.

5. Clem. To me, she took on less and less significance, even though I'm almost sure Gissing intended the opposite. Am I wrong on this?

6. Theme. I mean, on the Nether World, as seen through the lens of Michael Snowden's unusual will, Jane's reaction to it (or ability to execute it), Kirkwood's take on it, etc. This hit me in interesting ways, right down to how I feel when I see a homeless person begging on the street. I want to help, but also feel like money might feed a habit that isn't called "food." Is Gissing going after this vibe or something bigger, like you can't help people who won't help themselves (or, better yet, you're a fool to make such generalizations about the poor)?

The floor is open...

Ken, I agree with several of your thoughts. I almost completed my last post but the iPad slipped before I clicked “done” so this is try number 3.

I found Clem to be somewhat symbolic. She personifies the terrible evil that those of the Nether World are capable of. She is present to think and act out evil toward others we know may, or may not not deserve it. She will do this for reward or personal benefit, or strictly out of vengeance or hate. She becomes almost a caricature of evil by the end of the book. She’s the “animal” behavior example in a social theorist’s casebook.

Bob Hewitt is somewhat different. He is mean and looks out only for himself. But he isn’t smart in any way. His acts of violence arise from the situations he ends up in. I place him on the low rungs of the Nether World. He is destined never to have a decent life.

I agree that Kirkwood dwindled away. In fact, I continued to expect something more from him for quite some time until I realized that I was thinking of a story that I might write not what Gissing obviously intended.

I agee, the second part of the book is more dynamic, and I definitely enjoyed it more than the first part.

Clara, now, that's an interesting character. I find her selfish, ungrateful and even, to an extent, cruel, but it's obvious the author has tons of sympathy for her, and in the end I think he does manage to make us feel compassion for her. What do you all think?

Joseph, I think, seems not that bad against the foil of his wild wife, but his scheming against Jane, who is nice and trusting, is disgusting, isn't it?

Kirkwood... I wonder what really made him marry Clara, his feelings for her or his idealism. Clara's father married his second wife out of idealism, too - apparently, that's not a surprising reason to marry in the Nether World - talk about pessimism %)

Bob - well, I've found the chapter of his flight well-written, and reminiscent of Bill Sikes's escape, as I think Stephen Gill has also noted.

Clem is at the hight of her being Clem when she reminds Jane how she used to torture her, I think. By the way, here's another aspect of Joseph's personality: he thought he was leaving his daughter enough money, but he never considered she might be attacked by Clem for this. Or did he consider this and decide that he couldn't care less?

Ken, I've also been thinking, 'OK, so what exactly can we readers do now?'. Apparently, Gissing is not much of a believer in charity - it is helpful here, but only when managed properly, which is not always the case. What has been most helpful in this book? Probably Jane's kindness to Pennyloaf. So I guess the message is to be kinder...

Sue, I think the author's view of Bob is that he could have been an artist or an artisan given the proper opportunities - thus maybe a nice person, too. As it is, he uses his skills unwisely... It doesn't look like he's profited much from his criminal activity, does it?

But, Sue, what was the story you had in mind for Kirkwood? :)

I think I rather like it that Jane remains single in the end, - well, men are horrible here anyway. But I do feel very sorry for Kirkwood married, as Ken said, to the Hewett family.

To the theme, I agree with Plateresca that Gissing's message was to be kinder.

In one of his intrusions into the story, he says “If only we had pity on one another, all the worst things we suffer from in this world would be at an end. It’s because men’s hearts are hard that life is so full of misery.”

The characters who were possibly never touched by kindness, especially when they were young (Clem?), don't stand a chance. The ones who have felt that pity and kindness, like Jane (early on, the impact of Sidney's speaking gently to her), may be able to build on that. Of course that's no guarantee against personality and fate, but maybe the point is it CAN sometimes help.

But I think Gissing's message is the problem with the overall system. He seems to be saying that if the initial selfish cruelty hadn't occurred--the dog eat dog world, the policies that lead to the rich getting richer and the poor getting ... children--so much of this suffering of the nether world might have been avoided.

Like Ken and Sue, I was surprised at Kirkwood who fizzled out in my estimation. He was too scrupulous for his own good. Michael Snowdon looked to him to help Jane but he was hesitant to accept the responsibility despite his love for her. Kirkwood struck me as a proud man. Perhaps, he needed to save his own face (i.e., not be perceived as marrying a girl for her financial promise). He ended up marrying not just Clara who never did care for him but also the Hewett family. Or was Kirkwood driven by a martyr complex? Whatever his motivation, what a fool!

Kathleen, I think it was Michael who said this about pity. It's interesting that he does sound like Gissing here. The author seems to disapprove at times of this character's idealism, and yet, I think, in the 'destruction and music' quote from the 'Saturnalia' chapter he displays no less idealism himself...

I also agree that Gissing protests against inequality and injustice.

Thanks, Plateresca, you're right it was Michael.

I'm not sure, but the way I took Gissing's treatment of idealism here wasn't so much that it was wrong as that in reality, it often doesn't work out. That rang very true for me. So I ended up liking that Michael's big plan failed. It was depressing, but felt realistic. And for the same reason, I liked the ending. We'd love to see happily ever after for at least one of these characters, but how often does that really happen? There are lots of inspirational stories that speak to those rare occurrences and give us hope, but this story is doing something different: reminding us of the reality.

I meant Gissing disapproved - I thought so, at least - of the abstract side of idealism, the way it places the idea above the actual people. When Jane was telling Michael she was not sure she could live up to his ideal...
'His grey eyes searched her countenance with that horrible intensity of fanaticism which is so like the look of cruelty, of greed, of any passion originating in the baser self.'
And it seems obvious that the author likes Jane who does very simple, mundane things. She has a learning problem and cannot probably grasp some of the ideas her grandfather or Miss Lant might be considering, but she's more effective in the soup kitchen then Miss Lant because she has common sense and is kind and open.

Jane's ending is quite 'happily ever after' for me - she's independent and, on the whole, her position at the end of the book seems better than that of all the other characters. Why is Sidney punished thus by the author? Gissing paints a very grim picture in the end, with Clara's siblings promising to bring nothing but trouble.

I see your point about idealism and agree. Perhaps he is saying the simple kindnesses are what is most needed, as you say above.

I also liked Jane ending up on her own. Perhaps Gissing sees himself in Sidney, and maybe allows him to be an example of someone who has good intentions but is overwhelmed by them.

Was Michael Snowden’s philanthropic dream so impracticable and tempting and hard? It drove so much of what happened Jane and Kirkwood, and I just have to shake my head to believe they would turn down managing the money to help others. I imagine it was just another way for Gissing to show that even good and educated inhabitants of the lower class were in fact ignorant and unable to overcome their nether world mentality. Given the opportunity, they still can’t climb up, and so deserve their just desserts.

Plateresca, I like your story for Bob, and agree with it. I don’t really have a story for Kirkwood except that I did lean toward his eventually reuniting with Jane whether in marriage or as very close friends. Of course that didn’t happen. I do still wonder if he will feel any allegiance to anyone but May once Mr. Hewett dies and if Clara should kill herself. Those two events might free him but probably too late to regain the life he had.

Two other things I remembered. The first was Micheal Snowden’s recall of how he had treated his wife in the past after he confronted Jane on her admission she could not live up to his ideals. He did live long enough to realize that he had been forcing others to live up to his thoughts of what was right. Finally he knew he had been wrong and truly forgave and loved Jane. And maybe forgave himself. I would love to have known what the new will said.

Second, the last words of the book seem to confirm the idea that kindness and good works are Gissing’s idea for humanity’s success. Jane goes to Michael Snowden’s grave on the third anniversary of his death and Sidney briefly meets her there. In the following, final paragraph of the book, Gissing notes that each has had no visible success , “yet to both was their work given. Unmarked, unencouraged save by their love of uprightness and mercy, they stood by the side of those more hapless… Sorrow certainly awaited them, per chance defeat…but at least their lives would remain a protest against those brute forces of society which fill…the abysses of the nether world.”

Perhaps this was how Gissing felt himself. No meaningful success but he did what he could to sound the alarm which was his skill. It’s certainly an unhappy picture of the future without much real hope.

After I finished writing that rather gloomy summary, I laughed to think that I did actually enjoy reading the novel.

Kathleen wrote: "Sidney... has good intentions but is overwhelmed by them."
I think we agree that Sidney's marriage makes his life miserable, but what about Clara? Do you think she would have committed suicide if he didn't marry her? Do you think she might still commit suicide?

And then again, Jane goes to see Pennyloaf (relatively) well-installed and it seems that the children (Pennyloaf's child and Mrs. Todd's children) are behaving nicely - at least, we don't learn anything bad about them. And we do learn nasty things about Clara's siblings.
So if Sidney could have married Jane, they could have helped people in this way - by providing moral support and encouragement. Is he really helping Clara's family now? Financially, yes, but whereas Jane's final scenes give the impression of dignity and, to an extent, contentment, the chapter about Sidney and the Hewetts is dismal and rather hopeless.

Cherisa wrote: "and I just have to shake my head to believe they would turn down managing the money to help others"
I see your point!
The way I understood it was this: Jane was afraid she'd do something wrong, it was too great a responsibility for her, and also she saw that even Miss Lant was bungling it to an extent, - so she was very doubtful of herself. She was OK with the idea of spending the money on Sidney, on the other hand.
Now, Sidney thought the temptation to spend money on himself and his wife would be too great.
So what was lacking in the plan - as I understood it - was a clause that of course, the philanthropic family doesn't have to live in abject poverty.
That said, is this enough to make a man decide to not marry the woman he loves?..

I think Cherisa's take on 'the Nether World mentality' is harsh, but very probably accurate.

Speaking of marriage material, or rather the absence of it, we haven't mentioned Mr. Scawthorne. What do you all think about him?
I think it's the character we know least about; the motives and psychology of all the other characters are explained in great detail (in fact, I often thought they were overexplained), but we don't know anything about his attitude to Clara and what happened between them...

Sue wrote: " I would love to have known what the new will said."
Oh yes! What do you think?
I was hoping he would say something like, 'I now trust in Jane's good judgement, whatever she does with the money is OK with me, I just want her to be happy'.
But I do think there is certain justice - in an utterly unjust world, mind you - in that the money that was got by ill means does not bring anything good.

Speaking about the final paragraph, I couldn't but notice its similarity to the final paragraph of Middlemarch, and the introduction by Stephen Gill confirmed this is not accidental. In case somebody doesn't remember it, here it is:
'Her finely touched spirit had still its fine issues, though they were not widely visible. Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.'
What a difference, right? :)

Plateresca wrote: "I think we agree that Sidney's marriage makes his life miserable, but what about Clara? Do you think she would have committed suicide if he didn't marry her? Do you think she might still commit suicide?."

Yes, and yes. :-) I think she might have, and she might still. I think Sidney wants to save everyone, and he can't, and won't, so he's setting himself up for misery. Whereas Jane, as you say, does some good. Jane with her simpler thinking does more than Sidney who maybe thinks too much.

Love reading all your comments. I can’t add much to this already in-depth discussion except no one (that I saw) mentioned the role of fate. I did think often about Thomas Hardy’s characters, especially in Tess and Jude; no matter how well intentioned they were, it wasn’t possible for them to succeed. I think Gissing probably attributes the mournful state of his characters to social inequalities, and yet I see Kirkwood and Michael as two characters who were perhaps “fated” to fail in their idealistic attempts. Not to mention Clara, Jane, and even Clem. What role do you think fatalism plays in the nether world?

I'm glad to see you here Sandra, and think that is an excellent question. I definitely see the connection with Hardy.

I don't know about fatalism, but I certainly think Gissing is coming from a belief in economic determinism, that the poverty these people faced made it almost impossible to succeed. Even when there was talent and good will and even some luck, some aspect of being in this social class could and often did doom their attempts.

Kathleen, I agree with what you say about economic determinism. So many of the young adult and younger characters in the novel are actively ill or spent much time during childhood and beyond sick. As in the case of Jane, this led to personality and intellectual deficits that lasted through her life. We see this is Amy Hewet too. Of course all the poor we meet lived without adequate food and housing for most if not all of their lives. It’s definitely difficult to obtain anything when you have had.

Kathleen, I agree with your interpretation of Sidney. If we think that this character was based on Gissing himself, who seems to have married for similar reasons, this is poignant, isn't it?

I also agree with the definition of 'economic determinism'. It is natural to suppose that if a person knows no kindness in their childhood, receives no education, and is given no opportunities, their outlook cannot but be grim.
Still, Jane is rescued - if not from poverty, then at least from degradation - by a change in her conditions that is far from radical. I mean, she doesn't receive a good education, and she has to work, but she receives kindness and her surroundings are a bit more pleasant, so she grows up into a very nice person.
So why doesn't this work for Amy Hewett? Is she so nasty just because the author wanted to punish Sidney, or are there other reasons?

I can’t remember the ages of each exactly, but was Jane’s rescue perhaps more complete and total once it happened than Amy’s ever was. Sidney’s rescue of the family came after years of ups and downs and only after her father was finally unable to work at all. Also, she had never really been cared about….her father only really loved Clara. Once Sidney and Clara moved in to the household the atmosphere already was on its way to toxic. And Clara made no attempt to help. Sidney had to work, unlike Michael Snowden so he couldn’t be a constant teacher and example.

Lots of insightful comments here, which stretched my thinking beyond just the plot and the story.

Plateresca shared, "But I do think there is certain justice - in an utterly unjust world, mind you - in that the money that was got by ill means does not bring anything good."

Ah, I hadn't thought of this. Very likely, Gissing is making a point about honesty and justice, and how in the nether world, these virtues remain important but elusive for the dastardly poor and destitute to attain them. This ties in to the discussion on economic determinism. The vicious cycle of poverty is a trap that is hard to break, with the damage becoming greater the longer a character is mired in merciless hardship, As Sue observed, Jane Snowden was delivered sooner than Amy Hewett, and her deliverance was 'more complete.' Perhaps, this contributed to Jane's capacity to extend kindness to others.

Excellent reflections and conversation here — thanks all for the rich offerings.
Has anyone ever read Jacob Riis’ How the Other Half Lives? I haven’t for some decades, but the thought of it keeps coming up for me as I’ve read this and I think it might be a good follow up for me to reread after this one, just to see how a different author from a different time period approaches & discusses the same topic.

There are authors who appreciate the complexities in making statements about "the poor," and then there are those who charge in with generalizations they consider "truth."

Trouble is, when it comes to poverty and the two sides of money, truths are few and far between. Or maybe too many in number. I was reading Camus' Journals this morning and came across this quote:

"For rich people, the sky is just an extra, a gift of nature. The poor, on the other hand, can see it as it really is: an infinite grace."

Camus was hailing back to his own impoverished childhood. He was raised in a rural setting (Algiers), setting quite a contrast to Gissing's London setting. In The Nether World, the poverty is handcuffed to the city -- what Blake called those "dark Satanic mills" of the Industrial Era (fertile romping ground for Dickens' moral outrage, too).

Still, it should be noted that there are many versions of what he's calling a "nether" world, some of them worthy of nostalgia and romanticism (as seen in Camus, a man not noted for capital-R Romanticism).

I agree, though, that Jane seems to be the key character here (i.e. the author's compass).

I want to thank everybody who has participated in this discussion - I've enjoyed talking to you about this book much more than I enjoyed the actual book %)

Thanks for your great insights, Plateresca. As is always true on any discussions of last book segments here, readers can weigh in whenever they finish the book, whether that's tomorrow, next week or the end of the month.

I realize I am quite late to the game, but just completed The Nether World and had a couple thoughts to share. Hoping it will be worth your time and also that I’m not repeating any insights already shared by another member!

First, I would like to thank the group for introducing me to an author whose writing I had not yet experienced. Great discussion! I always learn a lot in reviewing the commentary on the books this group reads. Second, I agree the book is grim (for starters, it both opens and closes in a cemetery), but I really enjoyed the story, particularly the historical accounts of the region. Most readers of Classics have a good grasp of the way of life of working class London, but Gissing opened my eyes to aspects of history I was not yet aware (“housing farmers,” “bank holiday” celebrations, etc.) and/or made things that were obvious more tangible (industry’s negative impact on the skilled craftsman through Bob Hewett’s story). Next, I know some group members thought the novel read like Dickens, but I felt Gissing’s writing style really resembled Thomas Hardy. The manner in which the story opens and the detailed character description in the first couple paragraphs was especially reminiscent to me of the opening scene of The Mayor of Casterbridge, which drew me in immediately. Along these lines, I also appreciated the level of detail that went into establishing the setting and almost feel this was done with more skill than developing the characters of the story. This led me to do some research of Gissing online and I learned that he wrote from personal experience, having lived near the area and married an alcoholic prostitute named Nell with whom he later had a falling out and divorced. Writing in his diary about his estranged wife’s death after viewing the body, which was presumably the catalyst to writing The Nether World, Gissing shares…

“Linen she had none; the very covering of the bed had gone save one sheet and one blanket. I found a number of pawn tickets, showing that she had pledged these things during last summer, - when it was warm, poor creature! All the money she received went in drink …
  She lay on the bed covered with a sheet. I looked long, long at her face, but could not recognize it. It is more than three years, I think, since I saw her. And she had changed horribly. …
  Came home to a bad, wretched night. In nothing am I to blame; I did my utmost; again and again I had her back to me. Fate was too strong. But as I stood beside that bed, I felt that my life henceforth had a firmer purpose. Henceforth I never cease to bear testimony against the accursed social order that brings about things of this kind. I feel that she will help me more in her death than she balked me during her life. Poor, poor thing!”

In response to the comments on the title, I learned this may have been a throwback to Dante’s Inferno, which Gissing read to learn Italian and that the Cary’s translation with which he was familiar contained the phrase ‘the nether world.’ It is also said that Gissing was not the first to make the connection between Dante’s Inferno and Clerkenwell. “A local clergyman had, in the mid-1880s, likened the noises emanating from the deep trench built for the underground railway to ‘the shrieks and groans of the lost souls in the lowest circle of Dante’s Inferno’. “

Finally, while bleak overall, for me the story ends in a bit of hope (“She looked up, with no surprise, and gave her hand for a moment”). It is true that Sidney and Jane were both victims of Michael Snowdon’s idealism, but they were also beneficiaries and neither fully succumb to the vileness of The Nether World.

Nice thoughts, Dawn. Did it open and end in a cemetery? I don't recall that interesting fact. Of course, Great Expectations opens similarly with the Magwitch scene. Not sure if there's a Hardy start by a grave. Seems as good a place to start as to end, in books and other matters.

Interesting that Gissing took Italian for the sake of Dante. I can relate, having read my share of poetry in translation. I'm always asking myself if the poor poet is being shortchanged by the language change. How can it help but be, especially in poetry?

Re: your final thought. Interesting (but true to life) that people can be victims of idealism. When you think about it, this occurs more frequently than you'd expect. Idealism, as Snowden proves, is a trickly thing and hardly an absolute. Definitions. They're so important (and not just to authors of dictionaries!).

Ken, thanks so much for the response.

In fact it did! At the start, Snowdon stopped at the cemetery gate, peered inside, and “fixed his eyes half absently on the inscription of a gravestone near him” before walking toward the detention facility and, at the end, Jane and Sidney meet at the cemetery near Snowdon’s grave to pay their respects. Regarding my Hardy comment, that was more with respect to writing style. If you compare the first paragraphs of Nether World to Mayor of Casterbridge, there is a definite pacing and form used by both authors that struck me.

Nether World:
“In the troubled twilight of a March evening ten years ago, an old man, whose equipment and bearing suggested that he was fresh from travel, walked slowly across Clerkenwell Green, and by the graveyard of St. James’s Church stood for a moment looking about him. His age could not be far from seventy, but, despite the stoop of his shoulders, he gave little sign of failing under the burden of years; his sober step indicated gravity of character rather than bodily feebleness, and his grasp of a stout stick was not such as bespeaks need of support. His attire was neither that of a man of leisure, nor of the kind usually worn by English mechanics. Instead of coat and waistcoat, he wore a garment something like a fisherman’s guernsey, and over this a coarse short cloak, picturesque in appearance as it was buffeted by the wind. His trousers were of moleskin; his boots reached almost to his knees; for head-covering he had the cheapest kind of undyed felt, its form exactly that of the old petasus. To say that his aspect was Venerable would serve to present him in a measure, yet would not be wholly accurate, for there was too much of past struggle and present anxiety in his countenance to permit full expression of the natural dignity of the features. It was a fine face and might have been distinctly noble, but circumstances had marred the purpose of Nature; you perceived that his cares had too often been of the kind which are created by ignoble necessities, such as leave to most men of his standing a bare humanity of visage. He had long thin white hair; his beard was short and merely grizzled. In his left hand he carried a bundle, which probably contained clothing.”

Casterbridge:
“One evening of late summer, before the nineteenth century had reached one-third of its span, a young man and woman, the latter carrying a child, were approaching the large village of Weydon-Priors, in Upper Wessex, on foot. They were plainly but not ill clad, though the thick hoar of dust which had accumulated on their shoes and garments from an obviously long journey lent a disadvantageous shabbiness to their appearance just now.
The man was of fine figure, swarthy, and stern in aspect; and he showed in profile a facial angle so slightly inclined as to be almost perpendicular. He wore a short jacket of brown corduroy, newer than the remainder of his suit, which was a fustian waistcoat with white horn buttons, breeches of the same, tanned leggings, and a straw hat overlaid with black glazed canvas. At his back he carried by a looped strap a rush basket, from which protruded at one end the crutch of a hay-knife, a wimble for hay-bonds being also visible in the aperture. His measured, springless walk was the walk of the skilled countryman as distinct from the desultory shamble of the general labourer; while in the turn and plant of each foot there was, further, a dogged and cynical indifference personal to himself, showing its presence even in the regularly interchanging fustian folds, now in the left leg, now in the right, as he paced along.”

A story of a man from the past, intricately described, both travelers.

You are so right about translations! I often feel mood is impacted. This is particularly true of idioms, as all cultures use them.

So glad you chimed in here, Dawn. I'm with you on the comparison with Hardy, and as with Hardy, I thought the grimness was well done.

I appreciate the detail about Gissing's wife. This struck me: "In nothing am I to blame; I did my utmost; again and again I had her back to me. Fate was too strong." And he goes on to explain that it's the "accursed social order" that brings this fate about, but the frustration was enough to inspire his work.

And I really like your last thought too. Sidney and Jane were helped, certainly, if not completely saved.

And the idea of Gissing reading Dante ... now there's a grim picture!

Thanks, Kathleen! Agreed on the quote from Gissing’s diary. You can definitely see how his tragic life influenced his characters and what the impetus is for his social commentary/soapboxing. Knowing Gissing walked the same streets and that this novel is essentially a firsthand account of life in the slums is meaningful.

Art definitely imitates life here. Gissing didn’t have far to look for models of his characters and their behaviors. He knew all about the costs of alcohol first hand.
Your summaries and ideas are really interesting, Dawn. I haven’t read Hardy for a while but I agree with the parallels you’ve noted. Mayor of Casterbridge is one of my favorites.

I just finished the second half, all in all I really enjoyed this book. There were some truly great characters and a good deal of suspense. My thoughts on Ken's questions:

1. Clara vs. Jane. Which character is more realistic? More sympathetic? Did you, like me, learn that "vitriol" was more than an abstract thing?

Clara was much more realistic and sympathetic. She really worked hard to overcome her station, whereas Jane was more of a passive receptor. I love the word vitriol! I should use it more often.

2. Jos. Snowden -- the Good, the Bad, or the Ugly? Make your own spaghetti western with this guy. I didn't know what to make of him.

Ugh. Not a fan, he wasn't completely heartless but was perfectly content to be a user.

3. Kirkwood. He sort of lost me down the stretch of this book. Or maybe Gissing's use of his character lost me. I said, "Really?" when he married "a family," so to speak.

The switch from Jane was pretty heartbreaking. It was realistic, but still heartbreaking. I think Kirkwood never truly loved Jane but he wanted so much to be 'the good guy'. It ended up burying him with Clara and family. And to top it all off, Clara never loved him, and it doesn't seem like she was particularly fond of being a mother to their child.

4. Bob Hewitt. Pitiful or pitiable? I always have to look up the difference, but he's as good a poster boy for Nether Worlds as you could want.

He descended into the abyss the most. He was likeable enough in the beginning of the book, and turned into an abusive brute. His weaker traits overwhelmed his personality by the end.

5. Clem. To me, she took on less and less significance, even though I'm almost sure Gissing intended the opposite. Am I wrong on this?

She definitely petered out, but she was acerbic and nasty throughout. Perhaps there was not too much more to flesh out with her, she was so one-dimensional.

6. Theme. I mean, on the Nether World, as seen through the lens of Michael Snowden's unusual will, Jane's reaction to it (or ability to execute it), Kirkwood's take on it, etc. This hit me in interesting ways, right down to how I feel when I see a homeless person begging on the street. I want to help, but also feel like money might feed a habit that isn't called "food." Is Gissing going after this vibe or something bigger, like you can't help people who won't help themselves (or, better yet, you're a fool to make such generalizations about the poor)?

There is a lot to unpack here about the author's messaging. It would have been interesting to see if Jane had accepted the experiment and if it would have worked. Poverty can become so entrenched that it can be hard to get a leg up, even with support. Addiction, mental illness, lack of education, all of these compound to keep people in the nether world.

Plateresca wrote: "Kathleen, I agree with your interpretation of Sidney. If we think that this character was based on Gissing himself, who seems to have married for similar reasons, this is poignant, isn't it?

I als..."

That is so sad if Gissing based Sidney on himself! He sacrificed himself completely, and not just to his wife. I wonder if he would have done that anyways though, he seemed to have a compulsion to be that way.

I think the difference with Amy is that she didn't experience the love and nurturing that Michael offered Jane. The only child that was loved was Clara, and she probably never would have appreciated it if she had not been injured.

Dianne, I agree with your last sentiment about poverty. I often wonder how far money could put a dent in it -- or is it like cancer research, where gains only seem to be limited.

My fantasy is that all the money poured into political campaigns be diverted to social causes: housing and food for the poor/hungry, education along with before and after care plus respecting teachers with professional-grade pay. treatment for the mentally ill and those addicted to drugs, alcohol, gambling and all that nether world kind of stuff.

Really. Have you seen the dollar amounts that companies, lobbyists, and political action committees dole out? And for what? Mostly politicians who are useless as legislators and use their positions to grandstand for the camera (think monkeys in front of mirrors).

OK, off my soap box. Nether Worlds come in many flavors, I fear. I wonder if Gissing was politically-minded, too, in his battle.

Ken wrote: "Dianne, I agree with your last sentiment about poverty. I often wonder how far money could put a dent in it -- or is it like cancer research, where gains only seem to be limited.

My fantasy is tha..."

aagh, the obscene amounts of money spent on political campaigns! I could not agree with you more, Ken. And the requirement for obscene wealth in order to be successful (most of the time, anyways) really just entrenches deep-seated inequalities. I do like the recent trend of those with extreme wealth pledging to give a good chunk of it away, it seems like these initiatives have had a real impact when the money and projects are managed carefully.

Would money cure one of Gissing's pet concerns, alcoholism? It is a vicious circle - alcoholism can cause poverty just as much as poverty can cause alcoholism. If you take the one example of Gissing's wife, how could she have been saved? She was an alcoholic, but also a prostitute. She may have been what Jane would have become without intervention. Maybe this book was his way to 'save' his wife through a loving and renewed rendering of her.

Dawn, thank you for your insights!
Indeed, these passages from Gissing and Hardy are very similar in style.

Dianne, speaking about Michael's plan for Jane, I think she definitely would have done her best, but she probably would have been very unhappy if she had to practice charity in ways that didn't suit her character (the soup kitchen made her unhappy).

By the way, the more I think about it, the more I find Pennyloaf's ending the most satisfying. She is doing what she knows how to do, she has formed a family with her friend, and I think she's better off this way than she ever could be with her husband.

...I find Pennyloaf's ending the most satisfying. She is doing what she knows how to do, she has formed a family with her friend, and I think she's better off this way than she ever could be with her husband."

Agreed!!

And yes, Jane would have been miserable having to make decisions about how to "wisely" spread the money about. No one ever taught her about money, about management, about supervision, about big-picture thinking, etc. It would have entirely overwhelmed her, even with Kirkwood's assistance as was originally planned.

I'm so glad you brought up Pennyloaf, Plateresca. I agree with you and Sara. Her ending did feel satisfying, like even with limited choices, some successful problem-solving was done to reach a good outcome.

I share Ken’s fantasy. All this greed for money and power is a contemptible trait of man. It never ceases to amaze me how similar our lives really are to those who lived over a century ago despite the human advancements that have taken place. While change is constant, some things never really do change, especially social issues like poverty. A fittingly bleak end to the discussion on a book whose author despaired of identifying any viable solutions himself.

Dawn wrote: "I share Ken’s fantasy. All this greed for money and power is a contemptible trait of man. It never ceases to amaze me how similar our lives really are to those who lived over a century ago despite ..."

Any old book that is deemed "classic" depends on the sameness you point out. Sameness in a world of constant change.

I've said it once and I'll say it again: Ours is a God of Irony.

Plateresca wrote: "Kathleen, I agree with your interpretation of Sidney. If we think that this character was based on Gissing himself, who seems to have married for similar reasons, this is poignant, isn't it?

I als..."

I just finished the novel and am late in replying. Interesting. I did not perceive Amy as nasty. She was given a bad role in this novel. First, her sister, Clara leaves the family. Whatever Clara had contributed as the eldest girl--those responsibilities shifted to Amy. On top of that, the second Mrs. Hewett was constantly ill. Amy had to take care of her siblings. It was clear that her father only thought of Clara. How that must have hurt Amy! Is it any wonder she rebels? What hope is there that she will ever have a life of her own in that household? Sidney mentions that Amy's health is not the best. So we have a sick teenager expected to go out and contribute to the upkeep of the family. While I'm sure this was a common occurrence, it makes it all the more tragic. When did this girl ever enjoy a childhood? Anyway, I felt sorry for Amy.

Cindy wrote: " I did not perceive Amy as nasty. She was given a bad role in this novel."

These are really good examples of Amy's tragic lot, Cindy, and I think you're right. And you've described in particular for Amy maybe what Gissing was trying to say about all or at least most of them. Each dealing with their different tragic experiences, how can we blame them for their faults?

I've found myself growing angrier and angrier at the senior Mr. Snowden (Michael) as he wants to shape and craft (i.e. manipulate) Jane and Sidney into living the life he apparently can't live himself. He has this big dream of using all his inherited wealth to help the poor, but why doesn't he just help the poor, period. If he had the wherewithal to do the deeds himself, Jane may have learned from his experience and modeling and actually developed the skills to continue his mission by watching him, but instead, he just lays it all on her, not giving her a choice to choose and/or discover what is the best, most noble life for her to live. I feel like he is actually a subtle villain here, just as manipulative as Clem & Mrs. P, but in a more socially acceptable patriarchal guise. Sure, he was personable and kind, but not a stellar parent/grandparent at all, just as self-serving as many of the more obviously selfish characters.

Sara wrote: "I've found myself growing angrier and angrier at the senior Mr. Snowden (Michael) as he wants to shape and craft (i.e. manipulate) Jane and Sidney into living the life he apparently can't live hims..."

Sara, great point about Michael being manipulative. I found Michael Snowdon's character exasperating. If he wanted to use his wealth to help the poor, then do it directly. Why delegate the responsibility to someone else? Even though Michael was trying to atone for how he treated his wife, he should not have expected other people to take on his mission. The only stumbling block to him helping the poor was his attitude that someone else should be in charge of the enterprise. I suppose it wouldn't be much of a story if the characters weren't flawed and everyone did what they were supposed to do.

Cindy, I see your point.
I thought Amy should have been grateful to Sidney for being kind to their family and trying to do at least something for them. But then, of course, Clara isn't and everybody adores Clara, - this is probably what she thought.

Sara, I agree, Michael is not the best of grandparents. On learning the news that Sidney was not, after all, marrying Jane his thoughts were that this would be better for the noble cause, - he didn't consider her broken heart at all. It's a weird form of compassion when one feels for the poor but not for one's own granddaughter. I think Gissing understands that when he talks about his idealism.

Sara wrote: "Sara wrote: "I feel like he is actually a subtle villain here, just as manipulative as Clem & Mrs. P, but in a more socially acceptable patriarchal guise. Sure, he was personable and kind, but not a stellar parent/grandparent at all, just as self-serving as many of the more obviously selfish characters...."

I am very late to the party, but better late than never, right? I agree, Sara, that while Michael's intervention in Jane's life probably saved her, his intentions are to use her for his personal goals without a thought of what she wants or what would make her happy. Gissing even refers to his behavior as fanaticism when he really gets going on his grand plan for her. It is clear, after her pathetic plea to "let this cup pass from [her]" that his affection is dependent on her compliance. Poor Jane is the sacrificial lamb.

Both of the kind, more selfless people (Jane and Kirkwood) end up being taken advantage of by others and never achieving happiness.

Other than the focus on the plight of the poor and the injustice of the social systems, I did not detect much similarity to Dickens. Gissing is darker and more unrelenting with the misery. He definitely does not have Dickens' comedic touch! I did enjoy the book, though, and would like to read more of his work.

Cindy wrote: "Sara wrote: "Sara wrote: "I feel like he is actually a subtle villain here, just as manipulative as Clem & Mrs. P, but in a more socially acceptable patriarchal guise. Sure, he was personable and k..."

Cindy, I felt Gissing's writing was more realistic and pessimistic than Dickens. I think the humor was there on occasion but it was of a much darker variety than Dickens. I returned the book to the library so I can't search for more specific examples of it.

Better late than never definitely, Cindy! I agree Gissing took a heavier hand than Dickens to this subject matter. And I'm not sure about humor, but the very name Pennyloaf may have been an attempt. And there was some dark irony, like Clem working in an artificial flower factory.

Cindy wrote: "Cindy, I felt Gissing's writing was more realistic and pessimistic than Dickens...."

I think Gissing did an excellent job of conveying the savagery and hopelessness of the existence of the extremely poor. While Dickens took us into the inside of debtors' prison and the slums peopled with pickpockets, thieves, and other unsavory characters, I never felt that crushing sense of hopelessness. I suppose that can be due to the fact that Dicken's protagonists often escape their drear surroundings, and also to the comic relief that he includes in some of the direst circumstances.

Almost everyone in The Nether World is fighting just to survive, and even when they believe they have a leg up or a chance, it doesn't pan out. Even Joseph Snowdon, who absconds with the inheritance he lucked into, loses it all and dies penniless. As mentioned before, only Pennyloaf ends up in a tolerable situation. For most, it is impossible to escape the web of poverty. I love Dickens, but I do feel that Gissing's grim take on the human condition is, unfortunately, more realistic.