"George Eliot" was the pen name of Mary Ann Evans (22 November 1819 – 22 December 1880), a ground-breaking author, journalist and poet best remembered nowadays for her insightful character-based novels including Silas Marner (1861) and Middlemarch (1871-72) among others.

What would she have made of the TV Soaps such as Dallas and Knots Landing of a century later?

The following essays in Eliot's style were generated using Chat GPT.

 

 

Dallas: A Study in Ambition and the Moral Landscape


In examining a work such as Dallas, a television series that has captured the imagination of the public, we find not a mere spectacle of wealth and intrigue, but a nuanced tableau of human ambition, folly, and moral erosion. Were I, like the ancient philosophers, to dissect the lives of the mighty in order to divine the future of society, I should look to the Ewing family of Dallas as a quintessential representation of the ambitions and contradictions that pervade the modern American character.

At its heart, Dallas is a tale of human desire and conflict—where the pursuit of power, land, and wealth is carried out with a tenacity that is as relentless as it is destructive. The Ewing family, with its patriarch Jock and his sons J.R. and Bobby, stands as a metaphor for a society wherein individual gain is exalted over collective welfare, and where moral compromise is but the natural toll exacted by the god of ambition. In their dealings, their scheming, and their ruthless business machinations, we see the larger societal forces that pit man against man, and indeed brother against brother, in the ceaseless race to accumulate wealth.

J.R. Ewing, the most captivating of all the characters, is emblematic of what might be called a moral dissipation, if not outright moral vacuity. His charm and wit belie an underlying hollowness, for he embodies the consummate businessman who sees all human relationships as mere instruments to his ends. He is a man for whom the world is a chessboard, and whose Machiavellian tendencies recall the darker impulses of humanity that I have encountered in the pages of history as well as in my own Middlemarch. Like Casaubon, J.R. Ewing is a character whose ambition is corrosive, not only to himself but to those around him. His pursuit of power, unchecked by scruples, leaves in its wake the shattered hopes of others, and yet he proceeds, unrepentant.

By contrast, Bobby Ewing stands as the moral center of this familial drama, though he is no saintly figure either. It is Bobby’s struggle to maintain integrity amidst the relentless machinations of the oil business that provides the show with its tension between right and wrong. Yet, one cannot help but observe that even Bobby, in his efforts to resist his brother’s amoral influence, is drawn into the same web of ambition. The land of Texas, with its oil-rich soil, does not easily relinquish its hold on any man who enters the fray. It is a battleground where the best intentions are sullied by the sheer magnitude of the stakes.

What distinguishes Dallas from mere melodrama is its capacity to hold up a mirror to the aspirations and contradictions of American society itself. The Ewings, in their opulence, symbolize the seductive allure of wealth, while their perpetual conflicts and betrayals expose the brittle nature of such success. The show's setting—a vast, sprawling Texas ranch—serves as a poignant metaphor for the seemingly limitless opportunity that America promises, and yet, like all promises, this one is contingent upon the ability to navigate the treacherous waters of human greed.

It would be remiss of me to ignore the central role that women play in this drama, for they are not mere spectators but active participants in the moral and emotional turbulence that defines Dallas. Characters such as Sue Ellen, the long-suffering wife of J.R., are testament to the ways in which societal expectations confine women, even as they exercise their own forms of agency within these constraints. Sue Ellen’s descent into alcoholism is as much a critique of the emotional impoverishment that accompanies wealth as it is a commentary on the limited roles afforded to women in this patriarchal world. Yet, her resilience and ability to survive within such a hostile environment demonstrate the strength of the human spirit, even when tested by forces beyond its control.

In conclusion, Dallas is not simply a tale of oil, money, and familial strife. It is a richly woven narrative that explores the deepest recesses of human ambition and the moral compromises that accompany the pursuit of power. It is a study in the tragic consequences of unchecked desire, where even the victors are left with little but their hollow triumphs. Through the lens of this modern saga, we come to understand that the real question is not whether we succeed in the pursuit of our ambitions, but whether we are able to remain whole in the process.

 

Knots Landing: The Domestic Arena and the Burden of Everyday Morality


In turning our attention to Knots Landing, we are invited into a world that does not, at first glance, glitter with the overt opulence and power struggles of its sister series, Dallas. Instead, Knots Landing situates itself within a more intimate sphere, that of the suburban neighborhood. Yet, beneath its unassuming exterior lies a profound study of human relationships, one that echoes with a moral complexity deserving of our deepest attention.

The series, ostensibly a domestic drama, becomes under careful observation a microcosm of broader societal currents, where ambition, deception, and the frailties of human nature play out not on the grand stage of business empires, but within the confines of marriage, friendship, and community. It is here that we glimpse a reflection of the moral fabric of society—torn and mended in small, everyday ways.

At the heart of Knots Landing is a meditation on the choices that define our lives, not in moments of great public consequence, but in the quiet, often unnoticed, decisions of the home. The cul-de-sac on which the characters live is not simply a geographical space; it is a symbolic landscape, one that represents both the closeness of community and the isolating nature of suburban life. The characters, though bound by proximity, are also engaged in a constant struggle for personal fulfillment—caught between the competing demands of individual desire and communal obligation.

Consider the character of Karen Fairgate, a woman who is, in many ways, the moral compass of the show. Karen’s integrity, though admirable, is continuously tested by the complex and often sordid events that unfold around her. Her steadfast commitment to family and her efforts to maintain a sense of justice within her community are reflective of the larger societal expectation placed upon women to act as the moral caretakers of the domestic realm. Yet Karen’s journey is one of quiet heroism, for it is in her that we see the true weight of moral responsibility—one that is often borne in silence, with little recognition or reward.

In contrast, characters like Gary Ewing and his wife Valene offer a study in the fragility of human nature. Gary, ever the prodigal son, oscillates between self-destruction and redemption, a man whose internal turmoil is mirrored by the tumultuous relationships that define his life. His repeated failures, particularly within his marriage, raise questions about the possibility of true transformation. Can a man ever fully escape the shadows of his past, or are we all destined to repeat the patterns of our early failures, despite our best intentions?

Valene, too, is a figure marked by a certain tragic quality. Her devotion to Gary, though steadfast, is emblematic of the kind of emotional sacrifice that women so often make within their personal lives. Valene’s persistence in the face of betrayal, abandonment, and heartbreak reflects a larger societal expectation that women, no matter the cost, must preserve the unity of the family. Yet, one cannot help but sense that Valene’s loyalty, though noble, may also be her undoing. Her enduring love for Gary, while a source of strength, becomes a kind of self-imposed captivity—a reminder that love, when coupled with self-denial, can be as much a burden as a blessing.

What makes Knots Landing particularly compelling is its exploration of the moral ambiguity that lies beneath the surface of suburban life. The characters are not paragons of virtue, nor are they entirely consumed by vice. Instead, they are flawed, often contradictory figures, grappling with the same desires, regrets, and compromises that define the human condition. Whether it is the corrosive nature of ambition, as seen in Abby Cunningham’s manipulative quest for wealth and power, or the quiet resignation that comes with unfulfilled dreams, as evidenced in Sid Fairgate’s unremarkable yet poignant life, each character’s journey is marked by a profound, if often unspoken, moral struggle.

In this way, Knots Landing offers us more than mere entertainment. It is, rather, a mirror held up to the everyday moral decisions that shape our lives. It suggests that the most significant battles are not those fought in the public eye, but those waged in the private, often invisible, corners of domestic life. The quiet discontent, the small betrayals, the moments of forgiveness and reconciliation—these are the threads that weave together the moral fabric of the series, and indeed, of our own lives.

Ultimately, Knots Landing is a work of moral realism, one that refuses to offer simple resolutions or neat conclusions. It reminds us that life is not a matter of stark choices between good and evil, but of navigating the murky waters of human frailty. In this sense, it shares much with the great works of literature, for it is in these quiet, unremarkable moments that the true weight of moral choice is felt. It is here, in the lives of these flawed and relatable characters, that we see the ongoing struggle for goodness, and the deep, often unacknowledged, courage it takes to live a moral life.