Middlemarch unknowabilty

I am less than 200 pages into Middlemarch and am reeling from the beautiful poignant bleakness that George Elliot is showing me. At this point the book is about the complete unknowabilty of other people. For Elliot life is just a tragic series of misunderstandings among people. People are completely unknowable and our illusions about them give us a sugar high to keep going that ultimately comes crashing down when our illusions fall apart under the reality of the other person’s unknowability. But! The beauty of life and the reason to keep on going is the infinitesimal possibility that I will understand you and you will understand me. the dangling of that possibility and the bliss that comes with those moments is really the reason to keep on going. This is how this book is making me feel. i don’t know what the next 700 pages has in store. I to my shame never expected to be so moved by this book. I always kind of wrote it off as a period piece depicting the boring country life of boring people. but this book is magnificent. It’s blowing me away. It’s honestly right up there with Tolstoy for me and I wish I had read it sooner but I’m grateful that I’m finally reading it now.