When you’re right, Austenacious readers, you are right.
We talked a bit about Elizabeth Gaskell earlier in the summer (check the comments!), and here I am, about a third of the way through North and South. And, you guys, it’s awesome.
I know: this site is not called Gaskellacious. But! The Jane is strong in this one: it’s like a bridge, chronologically and thematically, between Austen and the Victorians. Published by Charles Dickens in his periodical Household Words, I like to think of North and South as a handy metaphor for (early-to-mid-) 19th-century British literature as a whole: drawing room romance, drawing room romance, drawing room romance, and then—BAM!—Industrial Revolution.
(At least, I think this is how it goes. A word about the edition I’m reading: it is one of exactly two copies in the possession of my local public library system, and I am pretty sure somebody—DigiReads, apparently—printed it off the internet and hand-glued it into a vaguely Victorian-print paperback cover, in much the way my junior-high self used to print out X-Files fanfiction and store it in three-ring binders for optimum access at key future moments. It’s riddled with errors, mostly missing punctuation. GoodReads tells me it’s a professional edition, but Penguin Classics, where are you and your air of publishing legitimacy when I need you? [Answer: Checked out.])
Anyway, North and South starts like Austen—in the titular South, with a stroll in a country garden and a surprise proposal. Its heroine is decidedly Austenian: eighteen and a clergyman’s daughter, a lover of nature, unprepared for romantic love and sometimes socially misunderstood. Its primary love story is built around a clearly Pride and Prejudice-esque relationship, in a “Boy, she’s haughty”/”Boy, he’s mean to the poor”/”Wellll, maybe we had it all wrong I love you I love you” kind of way. (I assume I know where this is going. OR DO I?) Then comes the North, and things change. Suddenly the subject matter is far more Dickensian—smoky air, factory girls, death by industrial accident—but only the subject matter. The voice remains all post-Austen, all the time: it’s the third-person narrative of a young lady and her parents, a couple of not-very-interesting suitors, one very interesting eventual-suitor, some impoverished neighbors, and her lucky girl cousin who got married and moved to Corfu instead of the gross but unexpectedly nuanced industrial town. And this is why I like North and South: it isn’t the urban melodrama of Dickens (though I like a wackily-named poorhouse as much as the next girl) and it isn’t the moody saga of the moors, like Gaskell’s pal and biography subject, Charlotte Bronte (though not much beats a crazy wife in the attic). It’s early Victoriana—the voice of the Regency confronted with a whole new modern world, and still working through the repercussions. Do we know what Jane would have done in the face of factory labor and slavish working conditions? We do not. But Gaskell might give us a hint.
Further reports as the story progresses; watch this space.
Better yet, go find yourself a nice social novel/romance and call me in the morning.
austenacious 
I enjoyed North and South, too! Wives and Daughters also reminded me of Austen, but I don’t think that I liked it quite as much as N&S.
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I read North and South with my book club a couple years ago – good read! This is one instance in which I love the movie more, though.
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I’m with you there. I feel like they’re going to revoke my library card for saying this, but I like the movie better than the book in this instance. The book is excellent, of course, but I always feel it would have benefited from a judicious editor who’s not shy with the red pen and who could have tightened the book up a bit, cut out some of the deadwood and a few little ideas that start but then never actually go anywhere; I wonder if those problems come with writing for a serial. And then, of course, the ending of the movie is pretty much the greatest climax to any movie ever (just my opinion, but it’s true). But the book is still great.
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I’ve only seen the miniseries–North and South, as well as Wives and Daughters. I enjoyed them both, so I’m glad you’re reading the book. I will give ’em a whirl!
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North and south and well any of Gaskell’s works are more in depth than Austen. I love them both and have their major works which I read off and on as well as Bronte. The books are a little harder just due to the northern accents etc but well worth the time and effort put into reading them. North and South is one of the only movie versions where I have loved the ending more than the book ending. It is the absolute hands down most romantic ending out there. Cranford too of course is by Gaskell. I think Wives and Daughters moves the slowest but the movie version is brilliant. I’m so glad you are reading it.
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Gaskell is definitely a bridge between Austen and the Brontes, or Eliot, or Dickens. I’m glad you like North and South! You should absolutely watch the miniseries, if you haven’t already – it’s one of the best out there.
I also enjoyed Mary Barton, Gaskell’s first book.
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hahaha X-Files fanfiction! I printed it out too but now I wish I’d thought of putting it in my binder!
And now you do realize that gives me all the more reason that I’ll enjoy North and South too, right?
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I’m so glad you’re reading North and South – Gaskell is the gift that keeps on giving. It’s interesting to compare N&S with Hard Times by Dickens, which was written in the same year (and made Gaskell suspicious that he was stealing her ideas). Personally, I think N&S is much better, since it offers a more balanced view of the conflict between masters and workers, whereas Dickens frequently strays into caricature – compare Nicholas Higgins with Slackbridge, for instance.
Anyway, I love your view on North and South as a gateway between Austen and the Victorian era. As others have said, the miniseries (cough, Richard Armitage, cough) is excellent, but the ending is different from the novel in a historically-inaccurate-but-who-cares sort of way. Cranford and Wives and Daughters are also interesting from a Janeite’s perspective, since a lot of their characters would have been young women in Austen’s time. The industrial revolution is a little farther off for them than it is for Margaret, but it’s still coming, and they’re not ready for that kind of change.
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