During the era of the expanding Empire, the Hindu practice of suttee emerged as a frequent subject of comparison (Morley 68). While English widows were spared from the extreme act of self-immolation, they were instead required to relinquish their sartorial freedom, a sacrifice that, in comparison, seemed minor even if it entailed a year or more in mourning weeds. The dynamic evolution of mourning customs, especially within the realm of widows' experiences, constitutes a complex interplay of societal norms, individual agency, and the commercialization of rituals and aesthetics. The 19th-century English tradition of donning black attire during mourning, depicted in Middlemarch, laid the foundation for a commodification process that peaked in the Victorian era. This cultural practice, juxtaposed with extreme rituals like suttee, illustrates the transformation of the widow's sacrifice from acts of self-immolation to the more restrained imposition of sartorial restrictions (Puckle 37). Implicit in all facets of the prescribed mourning behaviours is the unquestioned assumption that the widow's husband and marriage were worthy of mourning. In addition to the "duty of wearing depressing, and often in their eyes, ugly clothes for many years of their lives" (Taylor 134), widows faced up to a year of social isolation, turning widowhood into "a final destiny, an involuntary commitment to a form of social exile" (Jalland 231). This transformation reflects the intricate interplay between history, fiction, and societal expectations.

Chapman's advertisement for silk products seamlessly aligns with this historical narrative, presenting a diverse array of fabrics that transcend mere garments to become symbolic tokens of mourning. The Imperial Black Silks, Japanese Silks, and other offerings metamorphose into commodities through which individuals navigate their emotions, societal expectations, and personal identities. The tension between historical realities and fictional depictions of widows, as dissected in scholarly perspectives, resonates in the advertised silks, where the act of acquiring and adorning oneself with these fabrics becomes a commodified ritual, shaping perceptions of widowhood.

The Victorian era, with its heightened mourning expectations, further underscores the commodification of societal values and propriety. Prescribed regulations for both social conduct and attire elevated widows to central figures of mourning rituals. The advertisement at Chapman's, mirroring these Victorian expectations, underscores the commodification of grief through carefully curated silk products. Despite the emphasis on mourning rituals, widows faced formidable challenges, creating a dissonance between societal ideals and the lived experiences of loss. The scholarly discourse on Victorian widows' experiences introduces a nuanced understanding of mourning practices, reflecting diverse ways in which widows navigated societal norms. The advertisement at Chapman's, with its emphasis on a variety of silks and fabrics, aligns with this nuanced discourse, acknowledging the complexity of individual agency within the confines of societal expectations.

The symbolic role of mourning attire, explored in both historical accounts and the advertised silk products, extends beyond grief to signify moral fortitude. The dichotomy of emotions— anxiety challenging the seriousness of grief for some, and relief providing a distraction from the weight of loss for others—mirrors the complexities introduced in the scholarly discourse and fictional representations. In Middlemarch, Dorothea's beauty is heightened by the austere cuts and colours she favours in dress. However, it is her black mourning clothes that, according to the rector's wife, truly enhance her beauty. Her mourning dress not only signifies the loss of her husband but also signals the potential for future happiness (Mitchell 602). Her mourning dress becomes a commodified representation of her transition from grief to the possibility of a renewed future. This mirrors the commodification of ritual articles and aesthetics, where clothing transcends its utilitarian purpose and transforms into a tangible expression of complex emotions and societal expectations. The charming young widow, made more appealing by external signs of mourning, is a common and pervasive trope in Victorian fiction and popular press.

This widow, especially the young widow who consciously avoids looking good, contrasts with the merry widow of the eighteenth century and the impoverished or devoted Victorian widow described by sociologists and historians. These young, beautiful, and often newly-rich women challenge the reality of the invisible plight of the typical, older Victorian widow. They also function as fantasy by embodying two qualities that would otherwise be contradictory in a Victorian woman—maintaining dignity and status as an angelic, devoted wife while having a clothed body that can be read as sexually experienced, desiring, and desirable. These figures thus maintain the sanctity of the idealized Victorian wife while acknowledging the ambivalence of the widow's status and experience.

The ephemeral nature of clothing, emphasized in the argument, further complicates efforts to document and understand the nuanced sentiments of women towards mourning. The elusive stories hidden beneath societal expectations find echoes in the shadows of the commodified mourning articles offered by Chapman's.

Mitchell proposes a compelling examination of the Rosamond plots in George Eliot's novel, challenging prevalent interpretations. She contends that Middlemarch, in contrast to Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, stages a radical revision of the concept of subjectivity and self-awareness. She argues that Eliot's narrative goes beyond showcasing beauty as a counterpoint to plainer heroines and explores the complexities of self-knowledge, intersubjective relationships, and the unknowability of others. The author asserts that Eliot shifts the focus from self-absorption to a more nuanced understanding of the differences between oneself and others, presenting empathic extension as an outcome of recognizing these distinctions. This scholarly perspective lays the groundwork for my exploration, delving into how an advertisement for Rowland's Odonto intersects with the social and aspirational themes in Middlemarch, providing a distinctive lens to comprehend the characters' desires and the cultural context of the novel. The advertisement for Rowland's Odonto weaves itself into the intricate fabric of Middlemarch, transcending the conventional realm of product endorsement. Rather than merely promoting a dental product, the advertisement aligns itself strategically with the social aspirations and delicate nuances of characters such as Rosamond Vincy, creating a profound resonance.

The assertion that Rowland's Odonto has been favoured by sovereigns and nobility directly taps into the social hierarchy explored in the novel. This connection becomes particularly poignant when considering characters like Rosamond, who embodies a relentless pursuit of social status. Her aversion to reminders of her family's humble origins, as evidenced by "[s]he disliked anything which reminded her that her mother’s father had been an innkeeper" serves as a striking parallel to the advertisement's claim of aristocratic patronage (93). The implicit suggestion that using Rowland's Odonto is associated with an exclusive, high-class lifestyle mirrors Rosamond's own aspirations to elevate herself above her current social station.  Her dreams of achieving social prominence through marriage not only serve as a poignant backdrop but also provide a psychological gateway for the advertisement to weave its narrative. The relentless pursuit of social status highlights how commercial narratives can align with and amplify the themes of a literary work. The implied promise that using Rowland's Odonto is associated with an exclusive, high-class lifestyle mirrors Rosamond's own aspirations, providing a commercialized pathway to the societal ascent she seeks through marriage.

This alignment between the product and Rosamond's desires creates a compelling narrative that resonates on a psychological level with potential consumers. It capitalizes on the innate longing for a life that transcends the mundane, echoing Rosamond's aspiration for a world where “she would have nothing to do with vulgar people”. The promise of a more refined existence becomes intertwined with the product, subtly suggesting that, like Rosamond's pursuit of an elevated social status, the use of Rowland's Odonto can lead to a more sophisticated and desirable life.

Furthermore, the ad cleverly exploits Rosamond's acute sensitivity to matters of aesthetics and refinement. Her pursuit of the finest goods and residence in the most prestigious house in Middlemarch finds an echo in the ad's subtle implication that using Rowland's Odonto is not just about oral care but is an element of refinement synonymous with the aspirations of characters like Rosamond. The emphasis on aesthetics of beauty, a recurring theme in both the novel and the advertisement, becomes pivotal. This interplay between commercialization and aesthetic aspirations reinforces the idea that the product transcends its utilitarian purpose, becoming a tool for achieving a sophisticated and desirable life, echoing Rosamond's own yearning for a world of elegance and exclusivity. Rosamond's preoccupation with “the very highest taste" aligns with the implied promise of Rowland's Odonto to enhance not only dental hygiene but also the overall aesthetic appeal of the consumer. By linking the product to the elite class, the advertisement subtly communicates that using Rowland's Odonto is not merely a practical necessity but a statement of refined beauty. This resonates with Rosamond's own desire for sophistication and elegance, creating a powerful connection between the advertised product and the novel's themes.

Kei Nijibayashi's exploration of George Eliot's admiration for John Ruskin in Middlemarch sets the stage for the analysis of the intricate interplay between societal expectations, individual aspirations, and the convergence of aesthetics and morality during the Victorian era. This study, building upon Nijibayashi's examination of Dorothea's character evolution, draws a compelling parallel with a contemporaneous hair product advertisement, shedding light on the nuanced dynamics of Victorian societal values.

By closely scrutinizing the claims of the advertisement—such as preventing hair loss and enhancing glossiness—I uncover connections between external appearances and the prevailing ideals of virtue. Dorothea's transformative journey, intricately mirrored in the promises of the advertisement, serves as a microcosm reflecting the profound impact of societal expectations on personal choices. This comparative approach not only enriches our understanding of navigating societal norms but also illuminates the intricate relationship between aesthetics and morality in the Victorian consciousness.

In the realm of Middlemarch, where characters grapple with the complexities of beauty and virtue, the advertisement emerges as a metaphorical device offering valuable insights into the delicate interplay between individual aspirations and societal expectations within the Victorian milieu. The advertisement's assurances to prevent hair loss, strengthen fragile hair, and endow it with exquisite softness, flexibility, and sheen echo the societal fixation on physical appearance during the Victorian era. This aligns seamlessly with Dorothea's pursuit of aesthetic virtue, skillfully navigating the expectations of her time that intricately link outward presentation with moral character.

Dorothea's quest for wisdom and intellectual fulfillment, notably through her marriage to Mr. Casaubon, stands as a profound reflection of the societal values upheld during the Victorian era. She chooses Casaubon for his "wide embrace of conception," and the ambitious scope of his work mirrors the societal reverence for individuals pursuing intellectual depth and contributing to humanity's collective knowledge (21). In a manner reminiscent of the promises found in beauty product advertisements, where beauty and virtue intertwine, Dorothea perceives in Mr. Casaubon's work a harmonious fusion of "complete knowledge with devoted piety" (22). This union symbolizes the deeply rooted belief that the pursuit of knowledge, akin to the promises made in the advertisement, was not merely a personal decision but a noble and virtuous pursuit. The commercialization of marriage is evident in the strategic alliances and financial considerations that underpin many matrimonial decisions in Middlemarch. Dorothea's own marriage to Mr. Casaubon exemplifies this, as it is initially driven by a sense of duty and a desire for intellectual fulfillment. The societal expectation of a respectable union aligns with the economic and social advantages associated with such marriages. The marriage, in this context, becomes a transaction with societal implications, reflecting the broader commercialization of personal relationships.

In the hair product advertisement, the emphasis on preventing hair issues and enhancing beauty aligns with Victorian societal standards that placed significance on physical appearance. Furthermore, the commercialization aspect of the advertisement adds a critical dimension to the exploration of aesthetics. The commodification of beauty and the promise of physical enhancement reflect the growing influence of consumer culture during the Victorian era. Dorothea's struggle with societal expectations, mirrored in the commercialized promises of the ad, highlights the impact of market-driven ideals on individual lives. The advertisement, much like Dorothea's own journey, becomes a manifestation of the broader commercialization of aesthetics, where beauty is not only a personal virtue but a product to be sold and consumed.

Dorothea's evolution into a philanthropist introduces a transformative layer to this resonance. Her philanthropic endeavors become a metaphorical "hair product" for societal improvement. The shift from superficial concerns to a genuine commitment to the welfare of others mirrors the promises made in the advertisement but on a more profound and meaningful level. Dorothea's actions become a remedy for societal ailments, just as the advertised product claims to be a remedy for hair-related issues. Philanthropy in Middlemarch is not exempt from the commercialized influences of the time. Dorothea's philanthropic endeavors, while driven by a genuine desire for societal improvement, are also influenced by societal expectations and the prevailing ethos of the Victorian era. The act of philanthropy becomes a societal currency, a means through which individuals can enhance their reputation and adhere to the expected norms of benevolence. The commercialization of philanthropy is reflected in the societal recognition and validation that individuals receive for their charitable acts. Dorothea's philanthropy is not merely a selfless pursuit; it becomes a way to navigate and conform to societal expectations, garnering a form of social capital that aligns with the commercialization of virtue.