I was bored silly by much of the "local color" description in the story, which was often so local in time and place as to be incomprehensible to the 21st century reader without reference to the copious footnoting. I suppose that in a time before television, all this detail would have been prized for its role in setting the scene with precision, but I found that it mired the book a bit too much in its own era.
Nonetheless, as the pages flowed along, evidence gradually accumulated that George Eliot (the pseudonym of Mary Ann Evans, 1819-1880) was an exceptionally sharp observer of the human condition. She painted complex characters, full of life, with descriptions like this of one of the main characters, Dorothea:
"And how should Dorothea not marry? Nothing could hinder it but her love of extremes, and her insistence on regulating life according to notions which might cause a wary man to hesitate before he made her an offer, or even might lead her at last to refuse all offers... Such a wife might awaken you some fine morning with a new scheme for the application of her income which would interfere with political economy and the keeping of saddle-horses: a man would naturally think twice before he risked himself in such fellowship."In brief, this is the intertwining, not-quite-Peyton Place story of several familes in the English town of Middlemarch. All of the main characters are filled with pride in themselves of one sort or another. Dorothea is a strong-minded young woman who foolishly insists on marrying a joyless older man. She displays admirable intestinal fortitude in sticking it out till he dies. Dr. Lydgate, a newcomer to Middlemarch, is proud of his reputation and his knowledge. His wife, Rosamond, is proud of her feminine perfection, which turns out not to be much of a comfort to her husband when the chips are down. Mr. Bulstrode is proud of the position and wealth he has achieved --- and is in danger of losing. Fred Vincy is perhaps not proud, but merely oblivious. His intended, Mary, is proud of her rectitude, though it changes Fred's life both for better and for worse. Each of these characters is humbled in some way during the course of the novel. For some, the experience shattered their lives, while others learned and grew.
Whose narrative was most compelling? Perhaps that depends on what the reader brings to the book. What are your secret faults, your strength which doubles as a weakness, your secret aspirations?
Since no one else finished Middlemarch, it falls to me to rate it. I can hardly think of any book which merits the five stars of the "must read" endorsement --- certainly not this one. But comparing it to Dean Koontz's The Good Guy, an airport read-and-chuck, made the quality of Eliot's writing more obvious. Middlemarch deserves 4 stars. It is too long and ponderous, and its characters not quite as deep and complex as in the very greatest of stories. If you have the time, read it. Otherwise, don't sweat it. There are plenty of other fine novels out there which are just as good.