You can easily see that Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South is a novel that presents us with many dualities, sets of corresponding or opposing pairs. Not only does the title suggest it, but a quick glance at the chapter titles will say the same thing: “Roses and Thorns,” “Masters and Men,” “Likes and Dislikes,” “Comfort in Pain,” “False and True,” to mention only the most obvious. Of course, opposing or complexly intertwined pairs also figure largely thematically as well. One of the most salient pairs is male and female, but Gaskell combines it with another pair, moral force versus political force. These two couples are embodied in its two protagonists, Margaret Hale and John Thornton. The two are perfectly matched in their diametrical clash, with Margaret Hale from the female moral point of view and John Thornton from the political male point of view. 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 Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Margaret's identification with morality and Thornton's with politics is clear from almost all of their conversations (or debates) with each other. In a crucial discussion where their two major ideologies clash, Thornton tries to justify how he views and treats his workers. He compares them to children who "require a wise despotism to govern them" (120), telling the Hales that "I must necessarily be an autocrat... to make wise laws and make right decisions in the conduct of my affairs... I will neither be forced to give my reasons, nor retreat from what I once declared to be my resolution. He sees his factory as a primarily political machine; his relationship with his workers is that of governor to governed personal obligation; it is a God with mysterious and blameless reasons. On the other hand, Margaret subverts her initial analogy with the workers as children to argue that Thornton must have an almost parental moral responsibility towards them as well son in ignorance, failing to educate him in any way. The son then "did not distinguish good from evil" because the father had mistakenly attempted to govern him to "save him from temptation and error" (121). The parallel, of course, is that producers cannot keep their workers ignorant to “save them” from the economic chaos that producers think they are causing for themselves and others, but must educate workers to distinguish “good from bad ”. Although Thornton responds by stating that he is respecting his workers' right to independence outside of the factory, Margaret counters with an almost moral argument in her tone, suggesting that such political talk about “rights” forces “every man to stand in a position non-Christian and non-Christian”. isolated position, separated and jealous of his brother: constantly fearful that his rights will be trampled upon?” (122). In this key statement, Margaret sums up the opposition. He values ​​Christianity, brotherhood, compassion, and sees the politically nuanced “rights” Thornton emphasizes as obstacles. The waters become murky, of course, because the point of the novel is not to maintain such clear-cut differences, but to let them collide, interact, and influence each other. As a result, Margaret, Mr. Thornton, and their respective worlds influence each other; as a result, Margaret crosses the boundaries of femininity and masculinity, morality and politics. It does not remain confined within itself; Instead,he is a dynamic character who adapts to his environment and plays in the required arenas. The most compelling scene in the novel is when Margaret launches her femininity into the political world. The horde of strikers are lined up in front of Mr. Thornton's house, ready to erupt in violenceMargaret “has made her body a shield against the ferocious people of the afterlife” (177). She explains it as "just a natural instinct" and that every woman "would feel the sanctity of our sex as a great privilege when we see danger" (192). This is the epitome of border crossing; the feminine entered the forbidden political world none other than to protect a political figure. The female sex becomes a possible resource in the dangerous political and male world. Ultimately, her action fails to prevent the violence, because “if she thought her sex would be a protection… from 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 is still a powerful symbol of her forbidden passage into the masculine and political arena. In a sense, that forbidden crossing is what drives Mr. Thornton to ask her to marry him, as he is "honor-bound" (186) to redeem what he misunderstands as a shameless public display of feminine feelings. His sexual and moral reputation is compromised because this bold act cannot be interpreted on his own terms; his act cannot be perceived as a political move to protect himself from violence; because of his sex, Mr. Thornton must perceive the gesture as a “personal act” (193). The novel's audience cannot stomach a woman who is too strongly masculine or too political; not even Gaskell's Victorian readers would. She will therefore have to be careful not to compromise Margaret's femininity too much; furthermore, the vital contrast of balance between Thornton and Margaret would disappear. Margaret can't be too masculine, otherwise the love story becomes quite absurd, like a love story between Mr. and Mrs. Thornton. “The opposition of character… seemed to account for the attraction which [Margaret and Thornton] evidently felt towards each other” (81). Therefore, to make the novel subtly push genre boundaries, Gaskell masterfully manipulates Margaret's tears. Margaret lets herself cry, a classic sign of femininity, on average once every twenty pages, which seems excessive. However, her feminine tears somehow highlight rather than detract from her strength. She cries over her father's dissent from the church, over the doctor's visit announcing her mother's fatal illness, over his lie about Frederick, and over the various deaths of her family and friends. No reason is silly or sentimental, and in the end he manages to overcome all these terrible crises. In stark 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 regarded her as a friend...": in short, making such a big fuss over nothing that we only feel annoyance for her (399). Edith's tears are just for show; they must persuade Margaret to take back her words: Margaret ultimately ends up “being Edith's slave for the rest of the day” (399). Margaret is always honest about her tears and suffering; her tears are only allowed to make their way “finally, after the rigid self-control of the whole day” (48). Therefore, they can never be manipulative for show or set up as absurdly as Edith's are.In this way, Margaret shows her strong moral core, being both feminine and strong. Although Margaret's morality is her strength, but she is once again unique in this trait because she can take moral strength one step further to combine it with practical action. She can be feminine, cry honestly and still organize all the details of the family move and her mother's funeral. Even after her mother's death "her eyes were continually blinded by tears, but she did not have time to indulge in regular crying. Her father and brother depended on her; while they gave in to the pain, she had to work, plan, consider…” (247). While the male members of her family are incapacitated by grief, Margaret immediately takes practical action by reversing gender roles without diminishing her feminine moral sensibility. The other characters who possess Margaret's strong moral core – Bessy and Mr Hale – cannot really act or accomplish anything in the tangible world. Sick little Bessy dwells on the Bible day and night, longing for death. She is not a fighter like Margaret is, who encourages Bessy to talk about “something about what you used to do when you were well” (102). Margaret dwells on the good and positive possibilities, while Bessy is simply resigned to her illness, looking forward to death. “'Neither spring nor summer will do me any good,'” he says at their first meeting, and he lives by this motto of resignation and inaction. Likewise, Mr. Hale is strong enough to wrestle with his dark internal objections to the church and even give up his livelihood because of them, but then Margaret has to finish dealing with the consequences of her decision. He is paralyzed, unable to speak to his wife or deal with the details of the family's move. Thus, Margaret possesses both introspective morality and piety, and the external capacity for practical action. It therefore appears to be uniquely positioned to have a positive moral impact on the political arena. However, some sudden turn in the way Milton's society is run does not come through Margaret's direct moral action. His action during the riot may have prevented a tremendous amount of violence, but ultimately only its romantic consequences last, and even those are bitter; politically nothing really changes. Indeed, Margaret also risks what seemed to be her strength; morality. His real crisis concerns the lie he tells the police inspector to buy time for his outlaw brother to leave the country. Mr. Thornton not only discovers the lie, but also exerts his political influence as a magistrate to save her, although he knows nothing of the existence of a brother and believes that she has compromised her morality by lying to protect a lover. Unexpectedly, she “suddenly found herself at his feet, and was strangely distressed at her fall” from “her imaginary heights” (278). Her moral superiority and strength vanish, leaving her prostrate at the feet of Mr. Thornton's political might. The language of her moral fall is strangely also sexual, for a “fall” from innocence is almost always associated with sex, and her position at his feet is strangely suspect. Therefore, at this turning point in the novel, Margaret loses both her moral power and her purely feminine sexual status. We wonder, then, what Margaret can bring to the clash between her and Mr. Thornton and how, in the bigger picture of things, Gaskell intends to resolve the issues between the two paired concepts we have pursued. Victorian novels must have their happy union. endings, and although the relationship is jeopardized by Margaret's lie, the two of them, 1995.