It is easy to see that North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell is a novel that presents us with many dualities, sets of corresponding or opposing pairs. Not only does the title suggest so, but a quick glance through the chapter titles will say the same thing: “Of Roses and Thorns,” “Masters and Men,” “Loves and Loves Not,” “Comfort in sorrow”, “False and true”. » to name only the most obvious ones. Of course, opposing or intricately intertwined pairs also feature heavily thematically. One of the most prominent pairs is that of masculine and feminine, but Gaskell joins it with another pair, moral force versus political force. These two couples are embodied by its two protagonists, Margaret Hale and John Thornton. The two are perfectly matched in their diametric clash, with Margaret Hale the feminine morality and John Thornton the masculine politics. Through their interactions with each other and Margaret's personal changes, Gaskell explores the possible combinations of influences between these four aspects. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essayMargaret's identification with the moral and Thornton's with the political is clear in almost all of their conversations (or debates) with each other. In a crucial discussion where their two main ideologies clash, Thornton attempts to justify the way he views and treats his workers. He compares them to children who "need a wise despotism to govern them" (120), telling the Hales that "I must necessarily be an autocrat...to make wise laws and make just decisions in the conduct of my business… I will neither I will be obliged to give my reasons, nor to back down from what I once declared to be my resolution. He considers his factory as an essentially political machine; his relations with his workers are those of governor to governed. There is no personal obligation; he is a God of mysterious and irreproachable reasons. On the other hand, Margaret reverses her initial analogy of workers as children to argue that Thornton must also have a quasi-parental moral responsibility towards them. She brings up the example of a man who raised his son in ignorance, without educating him in any way. The son then “did not distinguish between good and evil” because his father had mistakenly tried to rule him to “save him from temptation and error” (121). The parallel, of course, is that manufacturers cannot keep their workers in the dark to "save" them from the economic havoc they think they would cause to themselves and others, but they must educate the workers so that they can distinguish “good from evil”. Although Thornton responds by asserting that he respects his workers' right to independence outside the factory, Margaret counters with an almost moral argument in her tone, suggesting that such political talk of "rights" compels “every man to adopt an unchristian and unchristian attitude”. isolated position, aloof and jealous of his brother: constantly afraid that his rights will be violated? (122). In this crucial statement, Margaret sums up the opposition. She values ​​Christianity, brotherhood, compassion and considers as obstacles the politically nuanced “rights” that Thornton highlights. The waters become murky, of course, because the point of the novel is not to keep differences so clear-cut, but to let them confront, interact, and influence each other. Accordingly, Margaret, Mr. Thornton andtheir respective worlds influence each other; as a result, Margaret crosses the boundaries of femininity and masculinity, morality and politics. She does not remain confined to herself; on the contrary, he is a dynamic character who adapts to his environment and plays in the required arenas. The most gripping scene in the novel is when Margaret throws her femininity into the political world. The horde of strikers is lined up outside Mr. Thornton's house, ready to erupt in violence, when Margaret "made her body a shield against the fierce people beyond" (177). She explains it as “only a natural instinct” and that any woman “would feel the sacredness of our sex as a great privilege when she sees danger” (192). This is the very example of crossing borders; the feminine has entered the forbidden political world to protect a political figure, nothing less. The female sex becomes a possible asset in the dangerous political and masculine world. Ultimately, her action fails to prevent violence, because “if she thought that her sex would be a protection… against the terrible anger of these men… she was wrong” (177). At this point in the novel, femininity is still relatively powerless as a practical force, although her gesture remains a powerful symbol of its forbidden passage into the masculine and political arena. In a way, this forbidden crossing is what prompts Mr. Thornton to propose to her, as he is "honor-bound" (186) to redeem what he wrongly sees as a shameless public display of feminine feelings . His sexual and moral reputation is compromised because this daring act cannot be interpreted on his own terms; his act cannot be seen as a political step aimed at protecting himself against violence; because of his gender, Mr. Thornton must perceive this gesture as a “personal act” (193). The novel's audience cannot stand a woman who is too masculine or too political; neither did Gaskell’s Victorian readership. She must therefore be careful not to compromise Margaret's femininity too much; moreover, the vital contrast between Thornton and Margaret would disappear. Margaret can't be too masculine, otherwise the romance becomes rather absurd, like a romance between Mr. and Mrs. Thornton. “The opposition of character… seemed to explain the attraction [Margaret and Thornton] evidently felt towards each other” (81). Thus, for the novel to subtly push the boundaries between the sexes, Gaskell masterfully manipulates Margaret's tears. Margaret gives in to tears, a classic sign of femininity, on average once every twenty pages, which seems excessive. However, her feminine tears emphasize rather than detract from her strength. She cries over her father's dissidence from the church, the doctor's visit with news of her mother's fatal illness, his lie about Frederick, and various deaths of her family and friends. No reason is stupid or sentimental, and she eventually overcomes all these disastrous crises. In contrast, her cousin Edith Shaw's tears at the end of the book could hardly be more different. When Margaret makes a somewhat haughty comment to her, "Edith began to sob so bitterly and declare so vehemently that Margaret had lost all love for her and no longer considered her a friend...": in short, making such a comment big fuss for nothing that we only feel annoyance for her (399). Edith's tears are for show; they must persuade Margaret to go back on her words: Margaret ends up "being Edith's slave for the rest of the day" (399). Margaret is always honest about her tears and her suffering; her tears can “finally make their way only after the strict control ofself all day” (48). Thus, they can never be manipulative for show or presented in an absurd way like Edith's are. In this way, Margaret demonstrates her own strong moral core, being both feminine and strong. Although Margaret's morality is her strength, she is once again unique in this trait as she can take moral strength a step further to combine it with practical action. She can be feminine, cry honestly, and still organize all the details of the family's move and her mother's funeral. Even after her mother's death, "her eyes were continually blinded by tears, but she had no time to cry regularly." The father and brother depended on her; while they gave in to grief, she had to work, plan, think…” (247). As the male members of her family are incapacitated by grief, Margaret immediately takes charge of practical action to reverse gender roles without harming her feminine moral sensibilities. The other characters who possess Margaret's strong moral core – Bessy and Mr. Hale – cannot act or actually accomplish anything in the tangible world. Little Bessy, sick, lingers day and night on the Bible, longing for death. She is not a fighter like Margaret is, who encourages Bessy to talk about "something about what you did when you were well" (102). Margaret dwells on the positive and the good possibilities, while Bessy is simply resigned to her illness, looking forward to her death. “Neither spring nor summer will do me any good,” she says from their first meeting, and she lives by this dictum of resignation and inaction. Likewise, Mr. Hale is strong enough to fight his dark objections to the Church and even give up his livelihood, but then Margaret must finish dealing with the consequences of her decision. He is paralyzed, unable to talk to his wife or handle the details of the family's move. Thus, Margaret possesses both introspective morality and piety as well as the outward capacity for practical action. She then seems to be in a unique position to have a positive moral impact on the political scene. However, a sudden turn in the way Milton's society is run does not occur through Margaret's direct moral action. His action during the riot may have prevented a massive amount of violence, but ultimately only its romantic consequences endure, and even those are bitter; politically, nothing really changes. In fact, Margaret even risks what seemed to be her strength; morality. Her real crisis concerns the lie she tells the police inspector to give her outlaw brother time to flee the country. Mr. Thornton not only discovers the lie, but even exerts his political influence as a magistrate to save her from it, although he knows nothing of the existence of a brother and believes that she has compromised his morals by lying to protect a lover. Unexpectedly, “she found herself suddenly at his feet and was strangely distressed at her fall” from “her imaginary heights” (278). Her moral superiority and strength evaporate, leaving her prostrate at the feet of Mr. Thornton's political force. The language of his moral fall is also strangely sexual, as a "fall" from innocence is almost always associated with sex, and his position at his feet is strangely suspicious. Thus, at this turning point in the novel, Margaret loses both her moral power and her pure female sexual status. We then wonder what Margaret can bring to the conflict between her and Mr. Thornton and how, in a broader context, Gaskell plans to resolve the issues between the two concepts we have been pursuing. The novels, 1995.