A landmark book in my reading life. It rumbles away in the background long after the end. George Eliot is an incomparable writer. She was well ahead of the field in the English Novelists Stakes.
A great historical novel about a turbulent time among the Italian states. Soundly researched wherein the reader is left in no doubt about her thoroughness. Expertly plotted, providing tension through 700 pages. I was riveted from the start, just as I was when I read Daniel Deronda.

Welp, I finally had to give up at page 395. Many pages left to go, and I just couldn't bring myself to finish. I was bored. I found myself inadvertently skimming, and then having to go back and reread because I couldn't remember the last five pages. It's too slow, and the Victorian wifely submissiveness was just getting on my nerves. It was only Eliot's pointed and sculpted prose which got me that far. And the thought of another notch on my bookcase wasn't enough to give up the amount of life it would take for me to finish.

Here's what I wrote about this read in 2008: "Remember as a great read. MGA's first introduction into the powerful Medici family of Florence." ( )

Before I critique this book, I have to critique this cover. Eliot could not make it clearer that Romola is a blonde. Her golden hair is referenced over and over again. Who is the dufus who chose this cover photo? Sorry, but all Italians must be raven-haired? I’m not thinking Eliot would have been impressed.

I have decided to DNF [b:Romola|835508|Romola|George Eliot|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1352311525l/835508._SY75_.jpg|1581651] after 238 pages of forced reading. I cannot believe I am ditching a George Eliot novel, but this is

nothing like any of her other novels,
set in Italy and it would appear Eliot wanted to impress upon people that she had seen it, but I never got the feeling she knew it,
contains chapter after chapter of description and political exposition that doesn't move the plot forward even an inch,
has yet to present a single character for which I give a fig.

I was more than willing to give Eliot leaway in making a slow start, she generally does and then presents one with gold, making all those details count. I think [b:Middlemarch|19089|Middlemarch|George Eliot|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1568307771l/19089._SY75_.jpg|1461747] and [b:The Mill on the Floss|20564|The Mill on the Floss|George Eliot|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1394285531l/20564._SY75_.jpg|3277447] would number among the greatest books ever written. Perhaps if I had the patience and endurance to finish I would see some major revelation in this novel, but I am reminded of how much I had to push to get through some parts of [b:Daniel Deronda|304|Daniel Deronda|George Eliot|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1320432000l/304._SY75_.jpg|313957], and I could see what she was trying to achieve there. The world will not stop spinning if I fail to like an Eliot novel--I know it will not--it really will not. Okay, permission to quit granted. ( )

The last quarter was good, the middle half reasonable, and the first quarter a slog. Overall, the narrative is muddled. The stories of Tito Melema, Romola de' Bardi, and the Dominican friar Girolamo Savonarola (a real historical figure) are intertwined, but in a way that feels awkward rather than illuminating. The discussions of Florence, both its history and its physical setting, drag on. I kept reading because it did get better as it went along. Overall though, the good wasn't quite enough to make up for the bad. ( )