Children's Literary Houses is a most unusual book, which was originally published in 1984. Two authors have selected eight classic children's books, aChildren's Literary Houses is a most unusual book, which was originally published in 1984. Two authors have selected eight classic children's books, all of which have a strong sense of place. They have then chosen illustrators to convey what it would be like to live in these dwellings. And "dwellings" is the only appropriate word, since they vary between a medieval castle, a deserted island, a boat, and even a rabbit hole.
"As well as the March family's comfortable home, here is a beached boat, a fortified stockade on a desert island, and a cosy sweet-smelling barn. Here also is an eighteenth century Boston silversmith's shop, a vast lonely manor house and a medieval castle."
And now you may have an idea of which books have been selected. They are:
"The Secret Garden" by Frances Hodgson Burnett "The Sword in the Stone" by T.H. White "Little Women" by Lousia May Alcott "Charlotte's Web" by E.B. White "David Copperfield" by Charles Dickens "Johnny Tremain" by Esther Forbes "Robinson Crusoe" by Daniel Defoe and "Alice in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll
The choice of books is interesting, spanning both English and American literature. Perhaps this reflects the inclinations of the authors. I can well believe that these might be their own especial favourites.
Rosalind Ashe is a novelist who was born and brought up in Jamaica and Canada, educated at Oxford University and now lives in England. As well as her novels and articles, short stories and magazine serials, she has also written two companion volumes to this book, called "Literary Houses" and "International Literary Houses".
Her co-author is the award-winning American Science Fiction writer Lisa Tuttle, who has written books with George R.R. Martin, as well as many short stories and novels of her own. She is married to the Science fiction writer Christopher Priest, and again, lives in England, on the outskirts of London.
"A book is like a house. It is only after you open the cover, or open the door, that you discover what it is really like."
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And certainly turning each page of this book is a surprise. The font chosen for the text is unusual; it has a bold, dense, modern look. There are full colour illustrations, line drawing, maps and plans. Sometimes there will be mostly text, with a border of illustrations, or a small picture included in the text. At other times, there may be a double spead of richly detailed art work, an illustration worthy of being pored over for several minutes. Each description of the house or dwelling-place and its setting have been pieced together from the author's original text, but the illustrations reveal much extra research into the period furniture, paintings and architectural detail. The authors and illustrators have evidently gleaned clues from the original text, but there are details of boat-building, weaponry, silversmith's tools and so on, which must have some from elsewhere.
The styles for each set of illustrations to the stories varies. Some are lush and saturated with colour, such as those in "The Secret Garden" and "Alice in Wonderland". Both of these beautiful series of illustrations are by Una Woodruff. I think these are my personal favourites. I loved the pictures of Misselthwaite Manor, marooned on the moors:
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and of course those of the garden itself, abandoned for years behind high, ivy-clad walls. Here we get a chance to see it for ourselves, if we just turn the page ...
These illustrations are unique, owing little or nothing to the illustrators who had come before, not even those to "Alice in Wonderland" which has been illustrated so very many times before; most famously by John Tenniel. Yet the illustrations by Una Woodruff perfectly convey the settings they describe. Una Woodruff has also worked with Lisa Tuttle on the children's story "Catwitch".
"Venturing further in, you can sense the atmosphere and learn from the rooms and how they are furnished something of the people who live there. You may even wonder what it would be like to live there yourself."
"The Sword in the Stone" is also quite detailed, using line and wash illustrations. There is a double page spread of every child's dream medieval castle, plus a plan of the "Forest Sauvage". Those illustrations to "Little Women" and "Charlotte's Web" are watercolours - and a little sketchier perhaps. The drawings illustrating "David Copperfield" use thick crayon, and are too sketchy and full of movement to be to my taste, although there is quite a neat plan of Mr Peggotty's boat-house, and the interior depicted is surprisingly detailed for such an unforgiving medium.
"Johnny Tremain" is illustrated by Denis Ryan's pictures. Now we are back to pen and ink wash, with a spectacular illustrated map: a double page spread of Boston Harbour with Charlestown and Roxbury, showing all the inlets, plus plans of the buildings, and oversize pictures of sailing ships:
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The interior of the workshop is also beautifully detailed, and facinating to study. "Robinson Crusoe" uses crayon again, but with a less bold technique. This time the colours are faded, and shaded to give an impressionistic feel.
Each of the eight chapters relates one of the classic stories, using a fictitional narrator. In "The Secret Garden" it is not Colin, or Mary, or Dickon. It is an Other person; a different visitor. In "David Copperfield," it is not Master Davy as you might expect, but another visitor, come to see Little Em'ly, and who is shown all over the boat - and even shown Davy's own little room. Sometimes, as in these cases, we never learn the name of the narrator. At other times it is clear. It is the rat who narrates "Charlotte's Web". It is Laurie who narrates "Little Women". It is an owl in "The Sword in the Stone".
This is actually a very effective literary device. It gives us an intimate feel. Also, for those who know these stories well, it reminds us happily of the contents of the book, with a faithful rendering of the original writer's style. Quite a lot of the events in each story are covered, so I suspect that it works better as an entertainment for adults, rather than an introduction for children - or for those who have not yet read the books.
"We have tried to capture some of the flavour of each book, a little of the magic which has made these literary houses seem so real. So, turn the page. Open a door."
A lovely and effective idea, presented in an oversize book in order to best show the artwork....more
Martin Chuzzlewit, or “the American one”, as fans of Dickens often refer to it, is “The Inimitable”’s sixth novel, written and published in twenty monMartin Chuzzlewit, or “the American one”, as fans of Dickens often refer to it, is “The Inimitable”’s sixth novel, written and published in twenty monthly parts between January 1843 to July 1844, when its author was between 30 and 32. It is a typical Dickensian romp of a ride, with thrills, passion, savage mockery, suspense - and flashes of absurd humour amidst the despair. The novel lunges between hyperbole and whimsy, switching at a moment’s notice, and it contains some of Dickens’s most memorable characters. There is the seedy but charming schemer Montague Tigg (Tigg Montague), and his associate Chevy Slyme, the eccentrically fey and colourfully attired barber and bird-fancier Poll Sweedlepipe, the staunch ally Mark Tapley, the undertaker Mr Mould, the buxom good-hearted pub landlady Mrs Lupin, the poor addled old clerk Chuffey ... or is he really so confused?
Who could ever forget Mrs Sairey Gamp, the booze-addicted midwife-cum-nurse who has her own mode of speech or idiolect? Who could forget the reported gushing flattery and compliments of her “employer” Mrs Harris, or her devious plots and hilarious squabbles with her associate Betsy Prig? Or who could not fall in love with the noble but naïve Tom Pinch, solid and unswerving in his loyalty, despite suffering gross insults and deprivations, or Mary Graham, of whom the same could be said, or his sister Ruth, a creation with whom it seems crystal clear the author himself fell in love.
Oh, the characters! The names alone are enough to make the reader chuckle, and they were carefully designed by Dickens to do precisely that. He even fiddled about with the main character’s name, trying out Sweezleden, Sweezleback, Sweezlewag, Chuzzletoe, Chuzzleboy, Chubblewig, and Chuzzlewig, before settling on “Chuzzlewit”. The fully fleshed out versions pop into the reader's mind long after the novel has been finished, remaining long after the story itself, fascinating and devious though that is. For mention has still not been made of any characters in the American section, whose whimsical names include Jefferson Brick, General Fladdock, Major Pawkins, Hannibal Chollop, Captain Kedgick, Elijah Pogrom and General Cyrus Choke. (These bogus titles comprise part of Dickens poking fun at the American habit of bestowing honorary military titles, as is his observation that everyone Martin meets in America is “remarkable man”).
Nor has mention been made of members of the large Chuzzlewit family itself: Anthony and Martin, the two feuding elderly brothers who drive the plot, or Jonas, Anthony's bully of a son, or the myriad of minor relatives who bookend the novel - and incidentally provide some of its most amusing moments. Nor of Jonas’s cousin, the young Martin, the namesake of his father, whose adventures we are to follow. And surely it would be a crime against literature to forget the character who arguably makes Martin Chuzzlewit the great novel it undoubtedly is ... the unforgettable ... Mr Pecksniff.
It would be difficult to say who is the most memorable character, Sairey Gamp or Seth Pecksniff, (father of two priggish daughters, Charity and Mercy, cast from the same mould) - a smooth-talking hypocrite with his pious sanctimoniousness, so self-deluded that he seems to be unable to cast off his mask of virtue throughout. The novel is worth reading for these two alone. Any scene with either of them in makes the reader settle down with a smile on their face. The story may continue in its tragedy, the hairs on your neck may stand up at the horror or brutality - but then turn the next page and you may be splitting your sides at some absurd turn of phrase by Mrs Gamp, or the sanctimonious twaddle of Mr Pecksniff. Such is the skill of the author that not only can he write scathingly ironic satire, but he can provide sparks of humour; shafts of light within the powerful and evocative descriptions of the darkest and most dire situations.
So what is the novel about? Put in a nutshell, it is about greed and selfishness. This theme raises its ugly head throughout the novel, being reflected and present in many of the minor characters and episodes, crossing all social classes, occupations and cultures. The primary focus however is on greed in regard to inheritance. John Forster, Dickens’s closest friend, mentor and biographer says,
“The notion of taking Pecksniff for a type of character was really the origin of the book; the design being to show, more or less by every person introduced, the number and variety of humours and vices that have their root in selfishness.”
So in a sense it could be said that Pecksniff is the hero - or anti-hero - of the book, although he is only one of many character strands to this complex story. Seth Pecksniff had his origin in an actual person, Samuel Carter Hall. Carter Hall was an Irish-born Victorian journalist who edited “The Art Journal” and was widely satirised at the time. He made Old Masters (such as Raphael or Titian's paintings) virtually unsaleable, by exposing the profits that custom-houses were earning by importing them. By doing this, he hoped to support modern British art by promoting young artists and attacking the market for unreliable Old Masters. However, he was deeply unsympathetic to the Pre-Raphaelites, and published several attacks upon the movement. Julian Hawthorne says,
“such oily and voluble sanctimoniousness needed no modification to be fitted to appear before the footlights in satirical drama. He might be called an ingenuous hypocrite, an artless humbug, a veracious liar, so obviously were the traits indicated innate and organic in him rather than acquired ... His indecency and falsehood were in his soul, but not in his consciousness; so that he paraded them at the very moment that he was claiming for himself all that was their opposite.”
It is a very short jump indeed from this description of Samuel Carter Hall to one of Seth Pecksniff!
The other arguably strongest character, Mrs Gamp, was also an early inspiration, which came via Dickens’s rich philanthropic friend, Angela Burdett-Coutts. Later Burdett-Coutts was to co-found “Urania Cottage” with the author. “Urania Cottage” was a home for young women who had “turned to a life of immorality”, such as theft and prostitution. Additionally, this novel is dedicated to her. Angela Burdett-Coutts had told Dickens about a nurse who took care of her companion (and former governess) Hannah Meredith. The nurse was an eccentric character, and details such as her yellow nightcap, her fondness for snuff and for spirits, and her strange habit of rubbing her nose along the top of the tall fender were immediately seized on by Dickens, who then immortalised her in the unforgettable character of Mrs. Gamp.
We easily become diverted by the characters, for Dickens is adept at discursiveness. But Dickens always has a huge persuasive element to his novels too, despite their apparent primary desire to entertain. Martin Chuzzlewit was written shortly after Dickens had taken a year off in 1842. During this time Dickens was in financial difficulty. He had borrowed money from his publishers in order to visit the United States of America, and his wife Kate was expecting their fifth child. John Forster notes,
“Title and even story had been undetermined while we travelled” and
“Beginning so hurriedly as at last he did, altering his course at the opening and seeing little as yet of the main track of his design,”
The story which frames Dickens’s message was additionally altered considerably as Dickens wrote, in an attempt to revitalise flagging sales. In the sixth part, desperately hoping to win back his fans, Dickens has our young hero, Martin Chuzzlewit, go off to America, hoping that this would stimulate renewed interest in the book. From now on, he actually planned the events in the story beforehand. His previous novels had just grown and developed as he wrote them, shortly before each serial part was published, but Martin Chuzzlewit represented a difference in approach, and one which he was to continue.
This has a dramatic impact on the novel itself. From a deceptively humorous start, containing some of Dickens’s sharpest satirical observations and wit, the novel switches to passages in America where the humour - at least for this reader - seems to lose its masterly touch. There are a couple of chapters which seem more to be Dickens venting some of his ill feelings for his dislike of the United States. It had been a colony up to less than a hundred years previously - almost within living memory - so he may well have suspected that some of his readers may have shared his feelings. His personal wrath was due mostly to what he saw as an invidious practice there of disregarding copyright.
Dickens’s observation of American habits which he personally disliked, such as incessant tobacco-chewing and spitting, what he saw as greedy and uncouth table manners, plus a tendency to talk things up, which appeared to an outsider as disagreeable boasting - all these were savagely parodied, and the introduction to America afforded by this novel is single-mindedly bad. No character has any redeeming qualities, and an entire family, the Norrisses, is introduced (disappearing from the narrative for ever shortly afterwards) apparently solely to demonstrate the hypocrisy of the nation as a whole, across all strata. Others are characterised as buffoons, and to a man (or woman) they are acquisitive, placing gain and accolades above true worth and honour.
This approach backfired. Not surprisingly it alienated all Dickens’s many American readers, who were outraged. Dickens took note, and the later American episodes, in the ironically named “Eden”, contain both good and bad characters, well portrayed rather than mere grotesque parodies. In addition, for every subsequent edition of the novel in perpetuity, Dickens left instructions to be printed, which offer an apology to the US citizens. This resulted from his second visit there.
It is interesting to wonder, from a modern point of view, whether he would have liked to edit this part. Very possibly, given his Postscript, and it would seem unfair to downgrade an assessment of the book as a whole because of what after all is merely a couple of chapters. The scenes on board ship are graphic, and powerfully described, as well as providing an important indicator to the character development of the two travellers. The descriptions of Eden too, immediately afterwards, are haunting, and expressive. It is clear from a letter he wrote to his mentor and biographer, John Forster, about the mountains near Pittsburgh which he saw from a train when travelling through the area, that they are drawn from life. Forster himself called that area “The Original of Eden”. In addition, the scams to do with selling property - or selling shares in railways - or insurance fiddles - were all very common at the time.
The novel's full name is,
“The Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit His relatives, friends, and enemies. Comprising all His Wills and His Ways, With an Historical record of what he did and what he didn't; Shewing moreover who inherited the Family Plate, who came in for the Silver spoons, and who for the Wooden Ladles. The whole forming a complete key to the House of Chuzzlewit.”
- a typically lengthy Victorian title - and in fact each of the 54 chapters has an equally long and informative preamble of a title. One would assume this made it easier to identify the protagonist, but this is not so.
A modern interpretation of this novel would probably focus on the coming-of-age journey of a young man. Young Martin Chuzzlewit starts out as an unlikeable, selfish, arrogant young cad, who thinks the world owes him a living. The novel details all the experiences he goes through as he matures; life-threatening experiences which teach him a lesson and make him a far better person. So it is about a young man’s personal and moral development, just as the earlier novel “Nicholas Nickleby” had been. It also conforms to the ancient traditional story of the hero's journey. When we think of Martin Chuzzlewit, the novel, it is this particular young man whom we naturally think of.
Yet the plural use of “Wills” in the title does not then make sense, for young Martin did not have a will in the legal sense of the word, and as we have learned, there is another, older Martin, his father. Thus it can be said to have developed a double meaning, reflecting the changing perspective of the author as the writing proceeded. It is partly about the transformation of the self-concern of the younger Martin into something more noble, and also about the selfishness of the older Martin, receiving help from an unexpected quarter, so that he too transforms into a worthy individual. Dickens loved to write about moral improvements; about people who genuinely strive to be better.
So who is the hero? It is difficult to say. Possibly one of these two, or possibly Dickens’s original thought, Seth Pecksniff. It could even possibly be a character who is ever-present, and prominent in the frontispiece, playing his beloved church organ, with scenes and characters floating around him as thoughts in his mind as he plays, the noble but naïve Tom Pinch.
It is a true masterpiece. Reading earlier novels, one can trace the origins of this one. The humour of “The Pickwick Papers” is tweaked to perfection. The brutality and bloody murder - and the subsequent horror felt by the murderer - are all there in prototype in “Oliver Twist”. Dickens had cautiously explored some romantic elements in “Nicholas Nickleby”, but here we have an abundance of three romances, amongst the young characters, plus a fourth very poignant romantic strand which runs through the entire novel. All are destined for happiness; Dickens loves to “reward” his good characters with a happy ending and his bad ones with their comeuppance and an appropriate punishment. We are anticipating both good and bad endings, even though we cannot predict them, throughout the book.
And the bad endings? Oh my goodness. There are foul deeds and a murder described so powerfully that it may well cause shivers of revulsion and terror. Some of Dickens’s finest writing to date accompanies this event, with an evocative vivid description of a storm, lightning and dashing rain accompanying the episode. If you thrilled to (view spoiler)[Nancy’s murder (hide spoiler)] in “Oliver Twist”, you will be swept up in the horror of this. The perpetrator is very reminiscent of (view spoiler)[Bill Sikes (hide spoiler)].
There are disguises, there are doubles, subterfuges and bluffs. There is mystery, confusion and duplicity, as in both “Nicholas Nickleby” and "Barnaby Rudge”. Things, and characters, are not always what they seem. Dickens is an adept at this, carefully referring to “The Man” or “The Stranger” so as not to give the game away. Dramatisations always miss this aspect, of course, as they do the evocative imagery. Read the book!
Yet even now Dickens had not yet written his truly great novels; they were yet to come. But in my view this represents a growth on the part of the author. Dickens was planning a small book for the Christmas season of 1843 - one which would continue the theme of greed he was writing about in Martin Chuzzlewit.
The result was a great classic, a favourite story loved by millions worldwide. It was published in December 1843, before the concluding episodes of Martin Chuzzlewit had even been published.
And its name? It was “A Christmas Carol”.
From then on, there was no stopping Mr. Charles Dickens....more
On 25th March 1837, a year after his wedding and flushed with his recent literary success, a young author moved into a rather nice Georgian terraced hOn 25th March 1837, a year after his wedding and flushed with his recent literary success, a young author moved into a rather nice Georgian terraced house in London, with his wife and young baby son. This house in Doughty Street was later to become the “Charles Dickens Museum”. Yes, the young man was called Charles Dickens, and the popular serial which had enabled him to rent this desirable house was called “The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club”. It was shortly to be published as Charles Dickens’s first novel. He had also just begun another serial, called “The Adventures of Oliver Twist”, and was writing the second installment even as the young family moved in. Charles Dickens was just 25 years old.
Charles’s wife Catherine and their baby (also called Charles after his father, following the English tradition) were helped in the home by Catherine’s younger sister Mary Hogarth, who lived with them. Tragically though, Mary suddenly died the same year, at the age of 17. Charles Dickens, who had idolised her, never got over the shock, and wrote Mary into many of his stories. Catherine was soon to have another baby, a girl, whom the couple named after her aunt Mary. This then was “Mamie Dickens”. Many years later, Mary was to write this book of fond recollections.
The family only stayed in this house for two years, although by then there was another baby: “Catherine” called Katey (later to become Kate Perugini, the English painter) before moving on to Devonshire terrace. This is the house of which Mamie has her strongest memories.
Charles and Catherine were to have a lot of children. In fact they had ten living offspring: 8 sons and 2 daughters. Another daughter had died when she was a baby, and the two remaining ones, Mamie and Kate, were obviously very precious to Charles Dickens. They even went to live with him after he had separated from Catherine, although they were frowned on socially as a result.
These then are Mamie Dickens’s own early memories, published as My Father As I Recall Him in 1896. Sadly she was never to see her book in print, as she died shortly after she had completed it. There is a note at the beginning, penned by her sister Kate, to say that the manuscript had been typed, ready for her to edit, but that Mamie:
“grew too feeble to hold a pen, and before the proofs of her little volume could be submitted to her for revision, my dear sister died”.
Kate and Mamie had already worked together to edit three volumes of Charles Dickens’s letters, which had been published in 1880. Then five years later, in 1885, Mamie Dickens wrote a biography of her father for children, called “Charles Dickens By His Eldest Daughter”. It seems particularly poignant that after spending her whole life looking after her father, Mamie did not live to see My Father as I Recall Him, her dearest memories of him, in print.
Nevertheless, it seems unlikely that Mamie would have changed very much in her memoirs, as she clearly idolised her father, saying here:
“My love for my father has never been touched or approached by any other love. I hold him in my heart of hearts as a man apart from all other men, as one apart from all other beings.”
Although many biographers of Charles Dickens used, and still use, Mamie’s account as a source, this is not where you will find anything untoward or controversial. It does not mention Charles Dickens’s shabby treatment of his wife Catherine, or his affair with a young actress Nelly, or even of his own forbidding of Mamie to marry a man he considered unsuitable. Nor does Mamie tell us of the time in 1860, when her father decided to burn all his letters in the field behind their house, “Gads Hill Place”. All were unique and irreplaceable, including correspondence from Alfred Lord Tennyson, Thomas Carlyle, William Makepeace Thackeray, Wilkie Collins and George Eliot. Mamie asked her father to keep some of these treasures, but he refused. Instead he instructed Mamie and two of her brothers to carry them out of the house in basketfuls, before burning everything. Why Charles Dickens did this, has never been established. We can only speculate.
No, this is a eulogy to a much-loved and respected father. On what Mamie considered to be private family business, she kept a tactful silence. If you believe Mamie’s account, you would consider her childhood and later life to be idyllic; My Father As I Recall Him is almost a hagiography.
So why should we read this, if it is such a biased portrayal? The simple answer is that it is a delight to read, for any admirer of Charles Dickens’s writing. It has no passages of critique or analysis, but what it has in abundance are many little domestic details, and anecdotes. We get a great sense of what fun it must have been to have been part of the large Dickens family—at least for some of the time. Mamie is thought to have been her father’s favourite daughter, but she denies this here, saying that if anything he preferred Katey, whom the family called “Lucifer Box” because of her wildness and hasty temper. Mamie, on the other hand was nicknamed “Mild Glo’ster” by her father, presumably because of her comparative equable temperament—and after the cheese!
Mamie splits her memoir into 6 chapters, which are roughly chronological. This is not to say though, that they cover Charles Dickens’s life from the earliest time Mamie could remember. Rather, they are snippets of memories; anecdotes such as you might hear from her if you visited for tea, told randomly, with evident enjoyment. It is full of nostalgia.
Mamie begins by saying that although there are many biographies of her father, there is only one which she will trust. This is the one sanctioned by him, and written by his great friend and mentor John Forster from 1872-1874. She then writes a few paragraphs about her father’s childhood dreams; of “Gad’s Hill Place” a house he had longed to own as a child, and his abiding love for the county of Kent. Of course he was to do just that, living at Gad’s Hill for the last years of his life, and by that time Mamie was effectively acting as his housekeeper. But that was a long way off. Mamie is thinking back to when she and her sister and brothers were children, and how attentive her father always was, insisting:
“his nature was home-loving. He was a “home man” in every respect.”
This seems strange, since we know what a great traveller Charles Dickens was, sometimes spending two or three years at a time in another country. Presumably then, at those times his rented house abroad truly became his “home”. She also talks of his constant letters, when he was apart from them.
Mamie then tells us that her father insisted on punctuality at all times, and gives us a startling picture of how neat and tidy her father was:
“There never existed, I think, in all the world, a more thoroughly tidy or methodical creature than was my father.”
It was so extreme, checking the furnishings of the house every day, as well as his own papers, desk and so on, that it seems quite likely that he had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
“he made a point of visiting every room in the house once each morning, and if a chair was out of its place, or a blind not quite straight, or a crumb left on the floor, woe betide the offender.”
She tells us that he had the same attitude towards his duties as a host, and quickly makes this into a virtue. He was the perfect attentive host; the perfect caring father when they were ill. She talks of his interest in mesmerism, and skill at it, before finishing the chapter with her father’s attachment to Mary, his “ideal of what a young girl should be”. A year after her death, he wrote of her to Catherine:
“Is it not extraordinary that the same dreams which have constantly visited me since poor Mary died follow me everywhere? After all the change of scene and fatigue I have dreamt of her ever since I left home, and no doubt shall until I return.”
We think of Charles Dickens above all other authors, as the one who created many of the Victorian Christmas traditions we now follow. And in chapter 2, Mamie talks about the enthusiasm her father had for this time of year. From buying Christmas presents, where he was keen that every single one should be just right, to a dance where he was the merriest of them all. Charles Dickens was keen that his children should be taught to dance, and was very enthusiastic about it himself, although he was hopeless at it:
“My father insisted that my sister Katey and I should teach the polka step to Mr. Leech and himself. My father was as much in earnest about learning to take that wonderful step correctly, as though there were nothing of greater importance in the world.”
“Mr. Leech” was of course John Leech, Charles Dickens’s chosen illustrator of his most famous work “A Christmas Carol”. The idea of the two of them galumphing around attempting to perform a polka, instructed by two little girls, is irresistible! Tiny Katey partnered John Leech, who was over six feet tall, and Mamie danced with her father. She tells us that she remembers him regularly practising in a corner by himself, and once:
“I remember one cold winter’s night his awakening with the fear that he had forgotten the step so strong upon him that, jumping out of bed, by the scant illumination of the old-fashioned rushlight, and to his own whistling, he diligently rehearsed its “one, two, three, one, two, three” until he was once more secure in his knowledge.”
Mamie tells several anecdotes about her father’s dancing, as well as his conjuring and magic tricks, each more delightful than the previous one. I particularly enjoyed reading about a prank he must have told her, of when he was courting her mother. A sailor suddenly appeared in the company, having jumped through his future parents-in-law’s French windows—and performed a hornpipe:
“A few minutes later my father walked in at the door as sedately as though quite innocent of the prank, and shook hands with everyone; but the sight of their amazed faces proving too much for his attempted sobriety, his hearty laugh was the signal for the rest of the party to join in his merriment.”
Christmas at “Gad’s Hill” was a notable occasion with lavish Christmas dinners, although Mamie says he was quite abstemious himself. She describes a New Year’s Eve frolic and New Year on the Green, followed a few days later by the Twelfth Night festivities, all full of great jollity. This sense of good feeling produced the Fezziwigs, and also the Christmas episode in the Pickwick papers. Mamie finishes her detailed descriptions with:
“I can see now the anxious faces turned toward the beaming, laughing eyes of their host. How attentively he would listen, with his head thrown slightly back, and a little to one side, a happy smile on his lips. O, those merry, happy times, never to be forgotten by any of his own children, or by any of their guests. Those merry, happy times!”
After the festivities, Mamie moves to quieter mode in chapter 3. Mamie tells us how completely absorbed her father was when he was writing, and how a strict silence had to be observed throughout out the house. He would normally be left quite alone when he was working but, after Mamie had been ill, her father asked her if she would like to lie on the sofa in his study while she convalesced. She happened to witness something most extraordinary:
“On one of these mornings, I was lying on the sofa endeavouring to keep perfectly quiet, while my father wrote busily and rapidly at his desk, when he suddenly jumped from his chair and rushed to a mirror which hung near, and in which I could see the reflection of some extraordinary facial contortions which he was making. He returned rapidly to his desk, wrote furiously for a few moments, and then went again to the mirror. The facial pantomime was resumed, and then turning toward, but evidently not seeing, me, he began talking rapidly in a low voice. Ceasing this soon, however, he returned once more to his desk, where he remained silently writing until luncheon time … for the time being he had not only lost sight of his surroundings, but had actually become in action, as in imagination, the creature of his pen.”
For those few moments at least, Charles Dickens was so intensely involved with the world he created, that he had actually become, in his mind, the characters whose actions he was playing out!
Mamie describes in detail the rooms in which he wrote, in each house, finishing with Gad’s Place:
“It is this room which Mr. Luke Fildes, the great artist and our own esteemed friend, made famous in his picture “The Empty Chair,” which he sketched for “The Graphic” after my father’s death. The writing table, the ornaments, the huge waste paper basket, which “the master” had made for his own use, are all there, and, alas, the empty chair!”
She then moves on to talk about the characters he created, who became so very real to him, that their fortunes and tragedies affected her father emotionally. To lighten the mood, she includes a long reply he sent to a fan letter from a little boy. It is delightful!
Again, Mamie must be partly recording what her father or others had told her, as she talks about the “popularity of “Pickwick” … known to the world long before it was realised by its anxious young author”. She describes his writing habits, such as that he would only ever use a quill pen and blue ink. Even if it was a simple list or menu, he would never use a lead pencil. She further says that the only amanuensis he would ever trust was her aunt Georgina, who wrote to her:
“The book which your father dictated to me was ‘The Child’s History of England.’ The reason for my being used in this capacity of secretary was that ‘Bleak House’ was being written at the same time, and your father would dictate to me while walking about the room, as a relief after his long, sedentary imprisonment.”
Mamie finishes this chapter by recording how sad and sorry her father was, on learning of the death of William Makepeace Thackeray, on Christmas Eve, 1863.
Chapter 4 describes an active Charles Dickens. From being a weak and sickly child, he was determined as an adult, to be as fit as he could be:
“Athletic sports were a passion with him in his manhood … Bar leaping, bowling and quoits were among the games carried on with the greatest ardour, and in sustained energy Dickens certainly distanced every competitor. Even the lighter recreations of battledore and bagatelle were pursued with relentless activity.”
He used to ride frequently, but Mamie says that a passion for walking had taken its place after his marriage. Other sports he enjoyed were shuttlecock and bowls, and he had a passion for bathing in the cold sea, in America or Italy or even off the coast at Broadstairs. At home: “cold baths, sea baths and shower baths were among his most constant practices”.
The rest of this chapter talks of all the family pets, such as Charles Dickens’s series of pet ravens. This started with one who became immortalised as “Grip” in “Barnaby Rudge”. She then tells several anecdotes about their many and various dogs, saying that dogs were by far their father’s favourite pets. It has to be said that 21st century readers may find some parts of this and the next chapter upsetting. The way we care for pet birds, cats, dogs and ponies is quite different now.
Chapter 5 continues with Mamie’s anecdotes about her father’s interest in wild birds, specifically the clever behaviour of many birds in London. There are stories about whole families of birds, plus ones about a canary, and a goldfinch, which fascinated him. She goes on to talk of other dogs, including one whom her father had brought back from his first trip to America. Finally moving from the family pets and wild birds befriended by Charles Dickens, Mamie talks of her father’s visit to America, and his public readings. This part has been heavily drawn on by later biographers.
We know much of the information in Mamie’s final chapter 6, from Charles Dickens’s other biographers, who have lifted parts from her or from John Forster’s account. Mamie tells of her father’s heroism in the Stapleford railway accident in 1865, coyly referring, as he did to his fellow-passengers, as “an old one and a young one”. We now know that this was his mistress Nelly Ternan, and her mother, and that they were travelling as a party of three. But ever afterwards Charles Dickens felt a sense of dread, whenever he had to travel by train. Mamie describes how badly he was affected:
“… on one occasion, which I especially recall, while we were on our way home from London to our little country station, Higham, where the carriage was to meet us, my father suddenly clutched the arms of the railway carriage seat, while his face grew ashy pale, and great drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead, and though he tried hard to master the dread, it was so strong that he had to leave the train at the next station. The accident had left its impression upon the memory, and it was destined never to be effaced.”
Mamie’s account details Charles Dickens’s gradual decline in health from this time. In his last years Charles Dickens was plagued by illness, both physical and mental. His last reading tour of the United States was made through sheer willpower, against his doctor’s advice, and it almost killed him. The readings took so much emotional energy, especially the sensational scenes such as (view spoiler)[the murder of Nancy (hide spoiler)] from “Oliver Twist” that Charles Dickens himself wondered how he would ever get through the tour, saying:
“It likewise happens, not seldom, that I am so dead beat when I come off the stage, that they lay me down on a sofa after I have been washed and dressed, and I lie there extremely faint for a quarter of an hour. In that time I rally and come right again.”
Mamie tells us of his last performance, and the love and support of his audience, as he spoke his last words in public. She finishes with the very affecting closing days and moments of his life, and his subsequent burial at Westminster.
All this is familiar territory for keen readers of Charles Dickens, but it is particularly interesting to see it expressed by his daughter, and to remember that this simple, affectionate account is the source material for many more scholarly later works. Despite its omissions and understandable bias, it is a lively, entertaining read....more
The Chimes, or to give it its full title, The Chimes, a Goblin Story of Some Bells That Rang an Old Year Out and a New Year In, is the second ChristmaThe Chimes, or to give it its full title, The Chimes, a Goblin Story of Some Bells That Rang an Old Year Out and a New Year In, is the second Christmas book by Charles Dickens. It was written in 1844, a year after his phenomenally successful "A Christmas Carol", and continued the burgeoning tradition of an annual Christmas book in what he called the "Carol philosophy". He was to write five of these short novels, all of which have a strong social and moral message. He then discontinued them in favour of shorter stories with a Christmassy feel in his weekly magazines, "Household Words" (1850-1858) and "All the Year Round" (1859-1867). Eventually there were to be over twenty of these shorter pieces.
The Chimes does not have quite the same London-based feel as many of Dickens's stories, and Dickens himself said that he missed having London as his inspiration. The idea for it came whilst he was spending a year in Italy, with his wife Kate, their five children, Kate's sister Georgina, and all their servants. Soon after they arrived in Genoa, Dickens became aware of the incessant ringing of the church bells. His biographer Forster recorded Dickens having said that in writing The Chimes he was, "striking a blow for the poor". When he had completed the novel, he rushed back to England, to read it to Forster and his other friends, and organise publication before returning to his family in Genoa just before Christmas 1844.
Dickens had great hopes of The Chimes, and employed four artists to provide illustrations, even though the work is so short. This confident extract is from a letter to his wife,
"The little book is now, as far as I am concerned, all ready. One cut of Doyle's and one of Leech's I found so unlike my ideas, that I had them both to breakfast with me this morning, and with that winning manner which you know of, got them with the highest good humour to do both afresh. They are now hard at it. Stanfield's readiness, delight, wonder at my being pleased with what he has done is delicious. Mac's frontispiece is charming. The book is quite splendid; the expenses will be very great, I have no doubt."
There are several parallels to be drawn with "A Christmas Carol" in this novel. Just as the earlier story is about Scrooge learning a lesson in humanity from the spirits, The Chimes also has a character for the reader to focus on, Toby or "Trotty" Veck. Trotty works as a ticket-porter, waiting all day outside the door of St. Malackey's bell tower for odd jobs. He is a poor, simple, "weak, small, spare old man". Yet it is Trotty Veck, with whom (unlike Ebenezer Scrooge) we have a lot of sympathy, who is to be taught a lesson. This time it is much harder to deduce what he can have done wrong. Trotty has a daughter, "Meg", whom he idolises. Dickens has created his favourite type of heroine here - young, virtuous, beautiful and kind. She has a sweetheart, a worthy blacksmith called Richard, and they want to marry. As Trotty patiently stands outside the church, musing on the bells and unnoticed by all the passers by, Dickens introduces us to the two young people, and we begin to get a picture of the dire poverty by which all subsist, and also the misgivings about the young couples' future which Trotty himself has.
To pile on the pathos, we are introduced the pompous Alderman Cute, who thinks nothing of poking fun at Trotty's situation and stealing his scant food, as he shows off to his two companions, Mr. Filer, a rigid political economist and another overly nostalgic, "red-faced gentleman in a blue coat", who bemoans,
"The good old times, the good old times ... what times they were!"
The three continually "put down" the engaged couples' plan to marry, drumming into them how selfish and irresponsible it would be.
"They have no earthly right or business to be married, ... they have no earthly right or business to be born!"
says Alderman Cute. Here, from later in the story, is a barbed, cynical thumbnail sketch of his arrogance, imbued with true Dickensian sarcasm,
"Seen the Alderman? Oh dear! Who could ever help seeing the Alderman. He was so considerate, so affable; he bore so much in mind the natural desires of folks to see him; that if he had a fault, it was the being constantly On View. And wherever the great people were, there, to be sure, attracted by the kindred sympathy between great souls, was Cute."
Eventually, after all three poor folk have been castigated and made to feel even more wretched, Trotty is given a note to take to a local MP, Sir Joseph Bowley, who makes a great show of dispensing charity to the poor. As we meet Bowley, we become aware through Dickens's facetious portrayal, that he is cast in the same mould as the Alderman - that of a pontificating dictator. Bowley makes a point of chastising Trotty for his debts, whilst ostentatiously paying off his own debts before the new year, completely ignoring the fact that Trotty has no way of paying off what he owes to his local shop. He drums into Trotty his one great moral lesson, which he says the poor need to learn,
"entire dependence on myself!"
Trotty is in despair by this point,
"No, no. We can't go right or do right ... There is no good in us. We are born bad!"
The story has clearly indicated where our sympathies should lie, but just to hammer the point home, Dickens introduces two more characters in desperate need. They are Will Fern, a poor countryman, and his orphaned niece, Lilian. (view spoiler)[Because Trotty had overheard a conversation at Alderman Cute's house, he is able to warn Will that he is likely to be arrested and put in prison for vagrancy. (hide spoiler)]
This is where the reader discovers what Trotty's lesson is to be. The bells of the church have always seemed to have a fascination for Trotty. Now one night, he feels as if they are calling him. He goes there, finds the church tower door unlocked and climbs up to the bellchamber. There follows one of Dickens's most whimsical atmospheric passages, describing the spirits' goblin helpers and then the spirits of the bells themselves,
"swarming with dwarf phantoms, spirits, elfin creatures of the Bells ... He saw them ugly, handsome, crippled, exquisitely formed. He saw them young, he saw them old, he saw them kind, he saw them cruel, he saw them merry, he saw them grim; he saw them dance, and heard them sing; he saw them tear their hair, and heard them howl ... Mysterious and awful figures! Resting on nothing; poised in the night air of the tower, with their draped and hooded heads merged in the dim roof; motionless and shadowy. Shadowy and dark, although he saw them by some light belonging to themselves - none else was there - each with its muffled hand upon its goblin mouth."
Trotty's "crime", he is told, is in not taking personal responsibility, in not having any inner convictions, and in losing confidence, faith in a higher power, and hope and determination that life would improve. He is reprimanded for his condemnation of people less fortunate than himself, offering them neither help nor pity. On his walk to Sir Joseph Bowley's house he had condemned a "cutpurse" (thief), and ignored the plight of a prostitute in the power of her pimp. He had read the account in a newspaper of a woman, driven from her home by poverty and misfortune, who had killed her child and herself. Trotty had seen this as final proof of the badness of the working class, and had cursed the woman as "unnatural and cruel". The goblins and spirits tell him that he has begun to emulate the behaviour of those such as Alderman Cute,
"Who turns his back upon the fallen and disfigured of his kind; abandons them as vile; and does not trace and track with pitying eyes the unfenced precipice by which they fell from good - grasping in their fall some tufts and shreds of that lost soil, and clinging to them still when bruised and dying in the gulf below; does wrong to Heaven and man, to time and to eternity."
He is also told to try to improve conditions in the here and now, not to sorrowfully remember a fictitiously "better" time in years past.
Just as we have "staves" in "A Christmas Carol", The Chimes is divided into four parts entitled "quarters", after the quarter chimes of a striking clock. And just as in "A Christmas Carol", Ebenezer Scrooge learns his lesson from the spirits by being shown a series of visions, including images of what might be to come, Trotty Veck is now shown a series in the same vein; visions of what may be to come.
These parts of the story are very downbeat. (view spoiler)[We learn the future troubled lives of Meg, Richard, Will and Lilian, who nine years later have all been driven beyond endurance. They have the friendship of Mrs. Chickenstalker, once a great friend to Toby, who is now married to Mr Tugsby, a general grocer. But despite their help, Richard becomes an alcoholic,
"A slouching, moody, drunken sloven, wasted by intemperance and vice, and with his matted hair and unshorn beard in wild disorder; but, with some traces on him, too, of having been a man of good proportion and good features in his youth."
and Meg becomes even more worn down. She eventually marries Richard, to try to rescue him, but he dies leaving her with a baby. Mrs Tugby laments their fate, although Dickens spouts the inevitability of it all through her,
"I hoped that such prophecies as parted them when they were young, may not often fulfil themselves as they did in this case ..."
Will Fern is in and out of prison, unable to abide by petty laws. He turns up during the annual New Year's Day Banquet and turns on Sir Joseph Bowley, hailed as "the Poor Man's Friend". Will gives an impassioned lengthy speech, detailing the unfairness and inevitability of his life, and against the treatment of the working classes,
"To jail with him, for he's a vagrant, and a jail-bird known; and jail's the only home he's got ... don't set Jail, Jail, Jail 'afor us everywhere we turn."
Lilian turns to prostitution, saying she can no longer,
"... bear to live in such helpless, hopeless poverty."
Eventually, suffering from tuberculosis and delirious, she dies in Meg's arms. And Meg, desperate and destitute, contemplates drowning herself and her child. She debates whether risking her soul would be better than the workhouse, which may be worse than death, but it would mean committing the dual sins of murder and suicide. Although the readers knows this is a dream, in this way Dickens has emphasised grim reality too, with the real-life case of the woman in the newspaper killing her baby. (hide spoiler)] Because of the length of time these episodes take, and the lack of a light touch - although there is much sarcasm and hyperbole - the novella becomes increasingly bleak and difficult to read.
Like "A Christmas Carol", The Chimes was an immediate success. Almost 20,000 copies were sold in the first three months and within weeks of publication five different stage productions had been mounted. The critics were divided, as the social and political message was thought to be dangerously radical. Yet now, the only Christmas story by Dickens which captures the public's imagination year after year is its predecessor, the very first novel, "A Christmas Carol". The Chimes is not particularly well-known nowadays, except to Dickens enthusiasts. Why could that be?
The early stories all "strike a sledgehammer blow", as Dickens put it, for the disadvantaged in society; for the poor, the uneducated and - particularly in The Chimes - the repressed. They all prick our consciences, at a time of year when more of us are likely to be approachable. All are full of drama, have elements of whimsy and humour, plus a satisfactorily happy ending, often with someone seeing the error of their ways, or learning a valuable moral lesson.
Perhaps one difference might be that although this one has many of the same factors as "A Christmas Carol", it overplays the social problems more, and they are specific to the 1840's. Referred to as the "Hungry Forties" the 1840's were a time of great social and political unrest. This is a campaigning novel; a novel urging social change, as so many of Dickens's novels are. In addition to "A Christmas Carol" his early novels such as "Oliver Twist" are full of criticisms of Utilitarianism. According to Jeremy Bentham, man's actions were governed by the will to avoid pain and strive for pleasure, so the government's task was to increase the benefits of society by punishing and rewarding people according to their actions. In "Oliver Twist" it was clearly depicted that consequent institutions such as the workhouse led to denial of all civil liberties and any human dignity. In The Chimes, Dickens is taking to task the English cleric and scholar, the political economist Thomas Robert Malthus. Malthus disagreed with short-term expediency, fearing that there were no acceptable measures to population growth other than virtuous behaviour. Otherwise misery, starvation, disease and war were inevitable. He wrote,
"The power of population is indefinitely greater than the power in the earth to produce subsistence for man".
The character of Mr. Filer is clearly a satirical view of Thomas Malthus. This is indicated by his constant spouting of statistics, and instances such as telling Richard he had no business to marry. Other characters are also satirical portrayals of other topical figures, who embodied political or philosophical ideas of the time. Dickens dwelt on their vices - the condescension and patronising attitude of Sir Joseph Bowley; the pomposity and high-handedness of Alderman Cute.
Apparently Alderman Cute is a satirical portrait of Sir Peter Laurie, whom Dickens considered had a very dismissive attitude towards the poor people in London. Laurie had publicly denied that Jacob's Island existed at all, even though Dickens had written about the slum in "Oliver Twist". In the first cheap edition of the novel in 1850, Dickens wrote a new preface ridiculing Laurie's denial.
However, these satirical representations of actual public figures are not at all recognisable today. We might recognise the types even now; the blustering and deeply hypocritical stances of various individuals in power at any one time. But we are not quite so aware of the particular parallels drawn. Neither are we so aware of the details of the political and social unrest of that era. One instance of this is when Will Fern, eaten up by hatred and a desire for revenge, promises, "there will be fires tonight". Here Dickens is referring to the rick burnings during riots by agricultural workers in the 1830's. "The Swing Riots", which started initially in Kent, were caused by the working class public perception of the new threshing machines putting people out of work. Rioters objected to the tithe system, the Poor Law guardians, and the rich tenant farmers who lowered wages whilst introducing agricultural machinery. But rioting could be punished by death. Only a present-day reader who is also an historian, may nowadays have the insight to easily pick up references such as this in The Chimes.
Also, although both stories offer a hint of the supernatural, one seems less alien to a contemporary audience than the other. The Chimes features goblins, whereas "A Christmas Carol" has abstract ethereal spirits which remain timeless. But goblins? Dickens was enamoured of his goblins. They crop up all over the place in his writings. Yet now they are consigned to Fantasy fiction and the mention of them in a novel about social conditions and conscience makes us look askance. We are not quite so engaged, and more likely to look for external reasons for a character's being beset by goblins.
The passages starting,
"Heaven preserve us, sitting snugly round the fire! It has an awful voice, that wind at Midnight, singing in a church!"
describing the wind in the church in winter are very atmospheric, and there is some evidence of Dickens's trademark whimsical humour. But the balance of this story is not right. It is not nearly as enjoyable as "A Christmas Carol". Dickens seems too overly concerned with his moral points, and his indignant attempts to highlight the current social ills, to appeal to a modern audience. There is rather too much acrimony, satire and grim description. Perhaps he was aware of this even at the time it was written. Initially the story was apparently a big success, but by the time it appeared with the other four novels, Dickens had written this apologetic preface, which seems to be him excusing himself for any - or perhaps all - little stylistic defects,
"The narrow space within which it was necessary to confine these Christmas Stories when they were originally published, rendered their construction a matter of some difficulty, and almost necessitated what is peculiar in their machinery. I could not attempt great elaboration of detail, in the working out of character within such limits. My chief purpose was, in a whimsical kind of masque which the good humour of the season justified, to awaken some loving and forbearing thoughts, never out of season in a Christian land."
There is a happy ending of sorts. After all, we have been assured by the bells that this was a dream. But contrast it with the dream of "A Christmas Carol". With that story we delight along with Ebenezer Scrooge in his changed character, Bob Cratchit's fortune, and Tiny Tim not dying after all. But in The Chimes we are more circumspect; more likely to feel apprehensive and rather sober. It is not an uplifting tale, and we do not feel that the characters in it will be able to fulfil both their and the author's hopeful - but unrealistic - expectations. But to finish, here is Trotty Veck's optimism,
On New Year's Day, the best and brightest day in the year!
Cheer up! Don't give way. A new heart for a New Year, always!
I know that our inheritance is held in store for us by Time. I know there is a sea of Time to rise one day, before which all who wrong us or oppress us will be swept away like leaves. I see it, on the flow! I know that we must trust and hope, and neither doubt ourselves, nor doubt the good in one another. I have learnt it from the creature dearest to my heart....more
This is the Classics Illustrated edition of Charles Dickens's perennially popular story, A Christmas Carol. Published nowadays, it would be called a gThis is the Classics Illustrated edition of Charles Dickens's perennially popular story, A Christmas Carol. Published nowadays, it would be called a graphic novel, although at the time it was called a comic. This is one of the earlier titles published between 1948 and 1951. In 1948 the rising cost of paper had reduced the books to 48 pages, which is the length of this one, and in 1951 the line-drawn front covers were replaced by painted covers. This edition's cover is a coloured line drawing of a cheerful Ebenezer Scrooge, giving Tiny Tim a piggyback. The captions and speech bubbles in the story proper are drawn individually; each letter in a section having its own character and style, which adds to the early, hand-drawn charm of the book.
The front page shows all the characters in the book in a very nice frontispiece reminiscent of the original 1843 etchings - but in cartoon style. The accompanying text explains the theme of the book, and takes us into the story.
[image]
The artist of this work is the illustrator Henry C. Kiefer, who was one of several artists who worked on this series. The illustrations are very good indeed; expressive, competently drawn and colourful, with imaginative depictions of the spirits. It is suitable either for an adult, wishing to revisit the story but with limited time, or by a younger person as their first introduction to the works of Dickens. But a word of caution ...
These are not the words of Dickens. Although the adaptation does include quite a lot of the dialogue, there are also some truly cringe-worthy parts. I cannot believe Dickens would ever pen the words, "The cold is unbearable! Guess I'll replenish the fire!" for Bob Cratchit. There are several points where the vernacular of the writing seems decidedly American, although this is the British version. It has "Great Britain" printed on the cover, and the price is 1/3, or one shilling and three pence. There is a useful one page biography of Dickens at the back, ideal for those new to Dickens, who would like to read further.
All the main points of the story are covered faithfully, and the continuity passages ensure a smooth consistent read. It is an enjoyable, one-sitting, read, but because of the wince factor of the narration, it merits a middle star rating.
Please Note: - this is a review for this particular version of the story. For my review of Charles Dickens's original 5* read, link here....more
Who Betrays Elizabeth Bennet? Further Puzzles in Classic Fiction, is is another book in the series by John Sutherland, of literary conundrums, ideal fWho Betrays Elizabeth Bennet? Further Puzzles in Classic Fiction, is is another book in the series by John Sutherland, of literary conundrums, ideal for brainboxes to get their teeth into. The author is a British academic, a Professor of English literature with a distinguished record. These are further puzzles; here Sutherland has widened his purview to include more than his favourite Victorian age. The conundrums still all have their source in classic novels, but this time a couple are from an earlier time, and two or three are not English. The puzzles remain far more stimulating and satisfying for a reader who is conversant with the novels themselves. However, John Sutherland writes so entertainingly that each piece could act as a trigger to read an unknown work.
The premise here is that a novel should be authentic and believable; both internally consistent and also true to the times. Thirty-three novels are chosen, and for each one there is a separate essay, plus another general one entitled "Name Games". John Sutherland carefully analyses the text, highlighting apparent inconsistencies, anachronisms and oversights. He explains historical references, which a modern reader may not know, and also points out the context within the author's body of work. Sometimes it becomes clear though, that the author probably just forgot a minor detail.
One chapter entitled "Is Betsey Trotwood a spinster?" is about the character "Aunt Betsey" in Charles Dickens's novel "David Copperfield". John Sutherland focuses entirely on the events as they unfold through the action and reported action. We learn right at the start of the novel that Aunt Betsey had been married to a man considerably younger than herself, who was "strongly suspected of having beaten Miss Betsey", and - unusually for a female at that time - that she had managed to free herself from him by paying him off. He then went to India, and she moved to the coast and reverted to her maiden name. Interestingly we are also told later (in chapter 47) that Aunt Betsey believed her husband had married another woman, presumably bigamously. Word then reached Aunt Betsey "within ten years" that he had died. Hence, we deduce she is a widow.
Add into the mix the fact that living in Aunt Betsey's house is another man, Mr. Dick, described by Sutherland as an "amiable lunatic". Aunt Betsey seems to have sole change of this man. She even changed his name from "Richard Babley". (Even more interestingly, he is actually based on the real-life artist Richard Dadd ... but that is not pertinent here!) Yet given the conventions of the day, he is a valuable commodity, possessing £100 a year of his own, plus about £3000 in savings. Why should a court happily "give away his adoption to an eccentric old woman who felt sorry for him and had no near connection with him"? Why did she ever even come across him in an asylum - what was she doing there? Was it possible that she was incarcerated herself, after her first disastrous marriage?
About a third of the way through the novel we become aware that this first husband is not dead after all. David refers to him as "my aunt's persecutor", a mysterious man who frightens Betsey and preys on her for money.
We learn as the novel proceeds that Betsey's former husband had gambled away all her money - and yet in a couple of interchanges it is clear that he has still has some hold over her. There seems to have been a separation, but no actual divorce, despite his remarriage. Sutherland points out that as a bigamist he would be, "in no position to apply any blackmailing pressure at all on his abused former wife. He would be in mortal fear of criminal prosecution." Betsey is an independent, formidable plucky woman. She is not cowed by the Murdstones, or by Uriah Heep. Why then does she fear this man? Is it because, according to the law at that time, if they had never gone through an actual divorce (which was a very unusual circumstance needing an Act of Parliament in those days) then her property should revert to her husband?
The book isn't only about "catching the author out" however. Interestingly Dickens's mentor and biographer John Forster refers to Betsey Trotwood as "Mrs Trotwood" which implies that he was aware of Dickens's intentions as to the storyline - and also the legal implications of what had actually happened in the novel.
Also in doubt is whether Betsey Trotwood's first husband (who remains nameless throughout) ever actually went to India, and what, if anything other than a vain hope, had led her to believe that he had died.
Sutherland speculates about an apparent digression in chapter 33, about "Thomas Benjamin" a bigamist with a scam involving routinely entrapping and marrying eligible young women. He would use only part of his name so as to be able to prove in the future - when he had tired of them - that the marriage had never been legal. If a woman like Betsey Trotwood had been taken in in this manner, she would hardly be likely to own to it. If such a scenario pertained, then one could argue that Betsey Trotwood may never have been anything other than a spinster.
So are these mistakes on the part of the author, as to property, inheritance, marital status and widowhood, changing of names - even the duration of the assumed time in India? Sutherland suggests that this might well be a case where Dickens used his common ploy of having several "back-up" plot lines up his sleeve, which he never actually used.
This overview is just of one essay. Other tempting conundrums in this collection include "Why Is the Monster Yellow?" ("Frankenstein") "How Long is Alice in Wonderland For?" ("Alice's Adventures in Wonderland"), "Heathcliff's toothbrush" ("Wuthering Heights") and the riveting answer to "Why are there no Public Conveniences in Casterbridge?" ("The Mayor of Casterbridge").
In each of the 34 chapters, or essays, John Sutherland quotes extracts of other authors' novels, explaining how they can sometimes be seen as evidence that something else is going on below the surface of the book; something which is not explicitly described. It's a fascinating read for those who have a certain type of mind. For others, it might prove frustrating, seem to miss the point, or be merely irrelevant. If like me you enjoy these "brainteasers", you will be pleased to hear that there are two more in the series. They are nice to dip into just after you have read a particular novel, although some puzzle fanatics with good memories might enjoy reading the book straight through.
Here is an alphabetical list of authors, each of whom have an essay devoted to one or more of their novels in this particular volume:
Jane Austen (3) Charlotte Bronte Emily Bronte Lewis Carroll Wilkie Collins (2) Daniel Defoe Charles Dickens (8) Arthur Conan Doyle George Eliot (2) Henry Fielding Elizabeth Gaskell (2) Thomas Hardy Walter Scott Mary Shelley Bram Stoker W.M. Thackeray (2) Leo Tolstoy Anthony Trollope Mark Twain Jules Verne
Edit:
As to Dickens's own conclusion about whether it was Miss or Mrs Trotwood, in "David Copperfield"'s chapter 54, Aunt Betsey explains about her husband to David, and we finally have a conclusive answer. She asks him to go for a ride and tells him the reason she has been so troubled. (view spoiler)[Driving to a London hospital they find a hearse waiting outside. Inside, we understand, is the body of her missing husband, who had died a few days before:
"'He was there once before,' said my aunt presently. 'He was ailing a long time—a shattered, broken man, these many years. When he knew his state in this last illness, he asked them to send for me. He was sorry then. Very sorry.'
'Six-and-thirty years ago, this day, my dear,' said my aunt, as we walked back to the chariot, 'I was married. God forgive us all!"(hide spoiler)]
All the way through this had been one of the many tempting threads of mystery dangled in front of us, and the explanation, when it comes, is really just a bit of a let-down. Perhaps this is final proof that in cases of writers of serial fiction at least, conundrums are often just the result of flexible non-characters, which may be developed or not, as necessary....more
Is Heathcliff a Murderer? Puzzles in Nineteenth-century Fiction, is a book of literary conundrums, ideal for brainboxes to get their teeth into. The aIs Heathcliff a Murderer? Puzzles in Nineteenth-century Fiction, is a book of literary conundrums, ideal for brainboxes to get their teeth into. The author, John Sutherland, is a British academic, a Professor of English literature with a distinguished record, and a yen for the Victorian age. The conundrums here all have their source in classic novels from around that time, hence it is far more stimulating and satisfying topic for a reader who is conversant with the novels themselves. However, he writes so entertainingly that each piece could act as a trigger to read an unknown work.
The premise here is that a novel should be authentic and believable; both internally consistent and also true to the times. Thirty-two novels are chosen and for each one, there is a separate essay. John Sutherland carefully analyses the text, highlighting apparent inconsistencies, anachronisms and oversights. He explains historical references to the Victorian age, which a modern reader may not know, and also points out the context within the author's body of work. Sometimes it becomes clear though, that the author probably just forgot a minor detail.
The book isn't only about "catching the author out" however. In one chapter about "Martin Chuzzlewit" entitled "Mysteries of the Dickensian Year", Sutherland focuses entirely on the calendar of events in the book. He cites many specific instances throughout the book, and basically you can't get away from the fact that the timings of the different story threads just don't coincide. Even though Dickens carefully refers to seasons rather than specific dates, the timings are impossible. In one particular case, a whole year seems to be missing.
So are these mistakes on the part of the author? Sutherland cites examples by other authors from the time, such as George Eliot, Anthony Trollope and William Thackeray, where the reader can track events using a calendar and find that the events in the novel match it precisely. Could Dickens just not be bothered to get his dates right?
John Sutherland points out that mood is key in all of Dickens' novels. It is important for Dickens that some events happen with dark, depressing weather to accompany them, or a terrific storm to accompany violent actions and murder. It adds to their emotional resonance. Other events, light-hearted, optimistic or humorous events, are enhanced by the depiction of Spring or Summer. Dickens's focus does not lie in verisimilitude of a nit-picking type; he sacrifices that for mood.
This is just one instance. In each of the 32 chapters, or essays, John Sutherland quotes extracts of other authors' novels, explaining how they can sometimes be seen as evidence that something else is going on below the surface of the book; something which is not explicitly described. It's a fascinating read for those who have a certain type of mind. For others, it might prove frustrating, seem to miss the point, or be merely irrelevant. If like me you enjoy these "brainteasers", you will be pleased to hear that the author went on to write two more in the series. They are nice to dip into just after you have read a particular novel, although some puzzle fanatics with good memories might enjoy reading the book straight through.
Here is an alphabetical list of authors, each of whom have one or more essays devoted to one or more of their novels in this particular volume:
Jane Austen Anne Bronte Charlotte Bronte Emily Bronte Wilkie Collins Arthur Conan Doyle Charles Dickens George Eliot Elizabeth Gaskell Thomas Hardy Henry James Rudyard Kipling Walter Scott Mary Shelley R.L. Stevenson Bram Stoker W.M. Thackeray Anthony Trollope H.G. Wells Oscar Wilde...more
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