All About Books discussion

Still, we don't expect balance from Dickens, do we? He's clearly unfair to the legal and court system, and lawyers, in books from Pickwick, Bleak House and others, whereas there was a constant improvement throughout the century, staring well before Dickens. But still fun!

Oh always! I usually really enjoy all his hyperbole. I'm just not sure the American part hits the spot for me just yet.

I'm sure your knowledge of specific history about the legal improvements is better than mine, John. But I think Dickens's heart was in the right place, and sometimes he managed to alter public opinion and in turn that sometimes fed into and influenced legal changes.

I've just met Mrs Gamp now. Ho ho ho!

I suspect Dickens thought a tirade against Americans would be popular - we were at war with them within living memory (1815?).

Yes, I'm sure he had the effect you suggest.

I wonder how many memorable characters like Mrs Gamp Dickens created. More than anyone else, I bet.

I'm just amazed that he could be so bitter and sarcastic when they had welcomed him with open arms and he was such a celebrity there!

Just seen that I saw comment 750, but missed 751. Chapter 18, eh. I must crack on. No, clearly the American interlude is clumsy, but done to up the sales, they say. And by knocking the 'enemy'. I must say I read the American stuff with wicked enjoyment rather than laughter. Any people who spit, and don't use a meal for conversation have it coming to them!

Reminds me a bit of the American passages in at least two of the Sherlock Holmes long stories, and others. Makes for a clumsy structure, and is very critical of the Mormons. But clearly done with that purpose.

Oh that rings a vague bell ... it's clearly time for a reread of all the Sherlock Homes short stories!

I shouldn't be surprised at all the sarcasm, should I? Dickens was never one for half-measures, and I doubt whether he ever compromised on anything.

Bleak House is my favourite, at least it has been up to now. Who knows whether it still will be when I get there though! All these rereads have been an absolute delight :)

Bleak House or Little Dorrit for me, but I haven't read all the books yet. And I really enjoyed Pickwick last year. And .....

A Study In Scarlet, and The Valley Of Fear, two of the four long stories, are the ones. Not The Sign Of Four, or The Hound Of The Baskervilles.

I listened to the whole lot, including the 56 (?) short stories last summer while gardening. They hold up really well.

I think I preferred the first and last of those, and not the middle two!

Yes, Little Dorrit is also in my mind. Some don't like the split narration, but that doesn't bother me.

I am looking forward to his greats, but enjoying the skill of these earlier one too. It strikes me that Martin Chuzzlewit is far more about character than story, but then the early part of Barnaby Rudge was also like that. You wondered when the story was going to begin, but thoroughly enjoyed the incidentals. The descriptions of the various forms of greed, avarice and selfishness masquerarding as benevolence are masterly.

A lot of people talk about Dickens's great stories, which is odd in a way, as I wouldn't have said it was his main thing!

Yes, split narration is OK with me. Bleak House has Esther's narrative as well as the narrator, and The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which we've spoken about in the past, is really 'split', but is now firmly in my top ten of all time!

Yes! Also The Moonstone as I remember is fragmentary with different viewpoints.

But isn't Little Dorrit in two discrete parts? I don't remember Bleak House being quite like that. It seems more ... layered. But I could be wrong.

Yes, Esther's narrative is just interwoven.

Having read a couple more of the American chapters, I'm thinking you are on to something with your idea that he was trying to appeal to recent grudges by the British population. There's an awful lot about how hypocritical he thinks the Americans are with their regard to Liberty and Independence.

Jean wrote: "I'm just about to start chapter 18. I'm reserving judgement about the American scenes so far. Part of me think they're just too over-blown to be funny. Did you enjoy them, John? I'm wondering if Di..."

John wrote: "Just seen that I saw comment 750, but missed 751. Chapter 18, eh. I must crack on. No, clearly the American interlude is clumsy, but done to up the sales, they say. And by knocking the 'enemy'. I m..."

I hadn't considered the sales aspect (appealing to the Brits who love to hate America). I found these scenes disappointing. I don't mind him bashing the U.S. but expected something better. I think the American parts of the story are part of why I didn't care for this one as much as some other Dickens.

So far I am of the same opinion Leslie. I think Dickens allowed his resentment against the copyright issue to cloud his judgement as to precisely how far he could go in order to make something or someone ridiculous. In these scenes so far he's strained my credibility. It's more as if he's on his soapbox, yet he usually does the satire so well.

Still, they're just embarking on the voyage to Eden, so I have all that to come before I can judge properly for myself.

I've just read the first American passage, then Jonas' proposal to Merry.

I thought, second time around, that there was a fair amount of effective comedy, with the gluttonous meal chapter, and the meeting with Bevans' relations. The criticism of a pretentious stratum of society, or of any other group, though often unfair, is typical Dickens. Would one be offended if the criticism were of a similar part of society in London or elsewhere in England. I think not.

He makes clear that Bevans likes the rural, normal community in Massachusetts that he comes from, and we are meant to do so too.

It's a judgement call, I think. The next American episode I found far more entertaining, and we have clear signals that these two agents are (view spoiler)[crooks and confidence tricksters (hide spoiler)]. Here is a description of Mr Scadder,

""He was a gaunt man in a huge straw hat, and a coat of green stuff. The weather being hot, he had no cravat, and wore his shirt collar wide open; so that every time he spoke something was seen to twitch and jerk up in his throat, like the little hammers in a harpsichord when the notes are struck. Perhaps it was the Truth feebly endeavouring to leap to his lips. If so, it never reached them.

Two grey eyes lurked deep within this agent's head, but one of them had no sight in it, and stood stock still. With that side of his face he seemed to listen to what the other side was doing. Thus each profile had a distinct expression; and when the movable side was most in action, the rigid one was in its coldest state of watchfulness. It was like turning the man inside out, to pass to that view of his features in his liveliest mood, and see how calculating and intent they were."

He is quite literally (view spoiler)[two-faced (hide spoiler)]!

But the earlier passages, such as those about the Norris family, lack this depth and level of subtlety. In my view, they just seem full of hyperbole. I'm still not sure what function the Norrises serve anyway. I think it would have been easier to believe in their hypocrisy, if it had been demonstrated, rather than just rhetoric coming out of their mouths. Or at least if they did something else other than spout opinions and then disappear from the story.

No, John, what I say has nothing to do with a current reader being sensitive to criticism of America or England! It is merely an opinion about his writing, and how Dickens's own perceptions seemed to overly influence and feed into these passages. To me, it seems to be to be a mark of the earlier Dickens. He did much the same with Oliver Twist - sacrificed good writing to rather too many protestations on the part of the narrator - who was hardly ever omniscient. That's why I gave the book just 4*, although I've read it over and over again and love it! But I think it's representative of his immature work, and flawed.

Martin Chuzzlewit is supposed to be the start of better work. It's the only one he planned beforehand, for a start (although he quickly jettisoned that with the American insertions, and I think you can tell.)

The descriptions of Eden are phenomenally powerful though. I really think his writing is superb in these passages. I may quote some later ...

It's also better, I think, that we don't seem to have long between the American and English episodes. (I haven't done a word count comparison - it's just an impression.) Each part leaves you wanting more about what's happening there, and that has to be good :)

Thank you for such a well-argued and thoughtful reply, Jean. I agree with almost all.

But isn't Dickens generally full of hyperbole, lack of depth and subtlety, and that's part of his greatness. He's unfair about the education system, about workhouses, about the law, about Utilitarianism, about the clergy, usually to make a point, and improvements? That's OK, so why should readers at the time, or now, think he shouldn't be unfair about the Americans to make a point?

Yes, I agree, very much so! And as I have now read further, and am enjoying the American parts just as much as those set in England, I am wondering if part of what hits the reader with the previous section is that this was his first description of America. Usually he leads his reader in more gently before unleashing his wrathful sarcasm!

It's the only thing that hits a jarring note so far in this wonderful book. I was going to quote a bit about Eden, but how about this, which is his inspiration for Eden? It's 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,

""The scenery, before you reach the mountains, and when you are on them, and after you have left them, is very grand and fine; and the canal winds its way through some deep, sullen gorges, which, seen by moonlight, are very impressive: though immeasurably inferior to Glencoe, to whose terrors I have not seen the smallest approach. We have passed, both in the mountains and elsewhere, a great number of new settlements and detached log houses. Their utterly forlorn and miserable appearance baffles all description. I have not seen six cabins out of six hundred, where the windows have been whole. Old hats, old clothes, old boards, old fragments of blanket and paper, are stuffed into the broken glass; and their air is misery and desolation. It pains the eye to see the stumps of great trees thickly strewn in every field of wheat; and never to lose the eternal swamp and dull morass, with hundreds of rotten trunks, of elm and pine and sycamore and logwood, steeped in its unwholesome water; where the frogs so croak at night that after dark there is an incessant sound as if millions of phantom teams, with bells, were traveling through the upper air, at an enormous distance off. It is quite an oppressive circumstance, too, to come upon great tracks, where settlers have been burning down the trees; and where their wounded bodies lie about, like those of murdered creatures; while here and there some charred and blackened giant rears two bare arms aloft, and seems to curse his enemies. The prettiest sight I have seen was yesterday, when we - on the heights of the mountain, and in a keen wind - looked down into a valley full of light and softness; catching glimpses of scattered cabins; children running to the doors; dogs bursting out to bark; pigs scampering home, like so many prodigal sons; families sitting out in their gardens; cows gazing upward, with a stupid indifference; men in their shirt-sleeves, looking on at their unfinished houses, and planning work for to-morrow; - and the train riding on, high above them, like a storm. But I know this is beautiful - very - very beautiful!"

Ring a bell? Forster called it "The Original of Eden".

You know though, I've been to Glencoe, and it didn't strike me like that at all! ;)

Yes, I can see your point.

Now I'm really looking forward to the Eden section, as I remember it being so frightful and moving. And what a great character Mark is!

What a great quotation!

Hilary and I spent some of June 1977, during the Queen's Silver Jubillee, in Glencoe, camping. And we had bad snow! And wind making us hold onto the tent poles during the night.

Thinking back to your comments about 'who is the eponymous hero' of the book, I had forgotten (shame on me) about Martin senior's meeting with Pecksniff as the reason for junior leaving, and the subsequent revelation of his motives for this, etc, etc. much later on. I think senior remains the title name, despite the American interlude.

It was sunny when we were in Glencoe! But I remember my parents saying it was more like you describe when they were there. Sounds like Dickens had a similar experience!

I think Mark Tapler must be my favourite person in all Dickens's novels so far. What a heart of oak he has :)

Will have to think about your final point tomorrow. Happy reading!

Mrs Gamp

Sarah or "Sairey" Gamp was based on a real person! So many of Dickens's best characters seem to be ...

When Dickens was writing Martin Chuzzlewit his sales began to flag, and he quickly switched tack to include all the American scenes, as I noted before. He also brought in some new characters to spice it up, and increase his sales, much as he had done with Sam Weller in The Pickwick Papers.

The inspiration for Mrs Gamp apparently came via his rich philanthropic friend, Angela Burdett-Coutts. He was later to to co-found "Urania Cottage" with her, of course, a home for young women who had "turned to a life of immorality", such as theft and prostitution. And this novel is also dedicated to her.

Angela Burdett-Coutts told Dickens about a nurse who took care of her companion (and former governess) Hannah Meredith. The nurse was an eccentric character, and things like her yellow nightcap, her fondness for snuff and for spirits were immediately seized on by Dickens, who then created the unforgettable horror Mrs. Gamp.

Priceless!

The Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Insurance Company

I suppose it's Dickens's background as a parliamentary reporter which made him so keen to use real people and events. In Nicholas Nickleby, we learnt that the monstrous Dotheboys Hall was based on an actual school in North Yorkshire. Then the one just before this, which I've just read - Barnaby Rudge - is of course based on the Gordon Riots. And the legal case the story hinges on, in the one you're reading John, Bleak House, was based on an actual case (as you probably know.)

Now it turns out that Montague Tigg (aka Tigg Montague)'s "Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Insurance Company" was based on an actual fraudulent "company", the "West Sussex Assurance Company". It was launched in 1836 by so-called "directors" with almost no capital. They absconded four years later with £300,000, which they had collected in insurance premiums.

Jean wrote: "The Anglo-Bengalee Disinterested Loan and Life Insurance Company

I suppose it's Dickens's background as a parliamentary reporter which made him so keen to use real people and events. In ..."

I had assumed that there was some basis for this but hadn't bothered to look up the facts. Thanks Jean!

I find it both sad and heartening to know that Ponzi schemes or insurance fraud are not a new invention! It is sad that we haven't figured out how to protect people from such schemes but heartening to know that people today aren't more greedy and corrupt than in the past, even if they aren't less so. :P

Leslie - unfortunately, I don't think one can conclude from this that people are more, less, or similarly greedy/corrupt than before. If someone would pay me, I'd do a PhD study over ten years to fail to answer such a question! I'd need a lot of international travel to carry out the study properly!

The case was being reported in Parliament at the time Dickens was writing Martin Chuzzlewit, apparently.

It reminds me very much of Augustus Melmotte in Anthony Trollope's The Way We Live Now.

John wrote: "Leslie - unfortunately, I don't think one can conclude from this that people are more, less, or similarly greedy/corrupt than before. If someone would pay me, I'd do a PhD study over ten years to f..."

LOL!!

I'll rephrase to say that it shows that this type of scam existed prior to the 1980s rash of securities frauds :P

'Nothing new under the sun' maybe the phrase!

Oooo you absolute bounder Pecksniff! Poor Tom Pinch!! :(

Yes, agreed.

I'm on ch 39 now, so have got on well. The chapters from 33 (where Martin jun becomes a mensch) onwards seem to be of the very best: for character, descriptions, and plot development. Reading it for the second time is very different, because one can see the clues and their meanings, when one couldn't before. It shows how well it's constructed.

Am I alone in getting very tired of Mrs Gamp?

You have shot ahead again John!

I'm about to start chapter 34, so have been in Eden for a while, a long way away from Mrs Gamp. I very much like the maturity Martin Junior is developing now :)

Yes, a reread always reveals more, doesn't it? From what you say it's probably cleat that this one was the first for which Dickens actually planned the story in advance.

I've been enjoying the illustrations by Phiz as I read. It's clear from Dickens's diaries that he was always very particular about his illustrations for all his works, often specifying exactly what he wanted, and at very short notice for the poor illustrator. Hablot Browne (Phiz) must have been a saint!

I always like the caricatures, but also think these two are also very evocative:

The thriving City of Eden as it appeared on paper



The thriving City of Eden as it appeared in fact




And have you noticed with the first illustration, the two big clues to the reader, in the top centre? The spider catching flies in her web, and the mouse about to enter a mousetrap? Clear instances of foreshadowing there, I think!

What a genius Phiz was! Still, what material he had to work with. The idea of putting up the sign 'Chuzzlewit & co, Architects and Surveyors' is marvellous - and as Phiz shows in the second of your illustrations.

With four days watching cricket in the sunshine in Nottingham, I've finished Martin Chuzzlewit and Bleak House, so am now deciding whether to re-read Little Dorrit, which I read and loved just before the BBC version, or read Great Expectaions and Our Mutual Friend (neither previously read) first (having read Tale of Two Cities earlier, out of order). Edwin Drood as a very last read, I think.

I think I'll start Great Expectations first.

Going back to MC, I continued to enjoy it thoroughly, with the plot threads coming together very nicely, with the occasional ....... - no spoilers from me!

But I would say that the remaining illustrations continue to delight. In particular, I loved 'Mrs Gamp propoges a Toast' in ch49. The background illustrates a nice point in the text very well.

By the way, Jean, I'll follow you in reading Dombey & Son in the summer, if I may. I found it very intriguing (and marvellous), and there seem to be quite divergent views, so your insights will be fascinating, I think, and a re-read very enjoyable. Whereas I often think Dickens is Shakesperean, in Dombey I thought more of Hardy!

I would be honoured, yes, John! It's always better reading alongside you - and others too. I value the discussions :)

Before then I thought it was time for another of my "reading around Dickens" choices, The Victorian City: Everyday Life in Dickens' London by Judith Flanders (on my Kindle) so will add that to comment 1 shortly.

Gosh - a comparison with Thomas Hardy though? I would never have thought it! I shall look forward to seeing what you mean there!

I have just got past the (view spoiler)[horrible murder by Jonas (hide spoiler)]. Oddly the character of Jonas Chuzzlewit has been reminding me of Bill Sykes all along - and now even more so. The scenes where he is (view spoiler)[almost consumed by guilt (hide spoiler)] remind me very much of similar imagery in Oliver Twist. I think this is altogether a better book though.

But how very odd. When I was posting those illustrations I very nearly posted the one you mentioned!

Is Seth Pecksniff actually deluding himself with all this simpering false piety and sincerity? He just never lets up!

""a moral man; a grave man, a man of noble sentiments, and speech...Perhaps there never was a more moral man... Mr Pecksniff's manner was so bland, and he nodded his head so soothingly, and showed in everything such an affable sense of his own excellence, that anybody would have been, as Mrs Lupin was, comforted by the mere voice and presence of such a man; and, though he had merely said 'a verb must agree with its nominative case in number and person, my good friend,' or 'eight times eight are sixty-four, my worthy soul,' must have felt deeply grateful to him for his humanity and wisdom.

Primed in this artful manner, Mr Pecksniff presented himself at dinner-time in such a state of suavity, benevolence, cheerfulness, politeness, and cordiality, as even he had perhaps never attained before. The frankness of the country gentleman, the refinement of the artist, the good-humoured allowance of the man of the world; philanthropy, forbearance, piety, toleration, all blended together in a flexible adaptability to anything and everything; were expressed in Mr Pecksniff, as he shook hands with the great speculator and capitalist."

There seem to be quite a few scenes when both Jonas and his father Anthony object and tell Pecksniff off, because he carries on pretending, having this hypocritical virtuous air even with them. They say he should know better than to imagine them being taken in. But he does not react to these criticisms - he seems to wear his "mask" all the time.

Yet here,

"It was a special quality, among the many admirable qualities possessed by Mr Pecksniff, that the more he was found out, the more hypocrisy he practised. Let him be discomfited in one quarter, and he refreshed and recompensed himself by carrying the war into another. If his workings and windings were detected by A, so much the greater reason was there for practicing without loss of time on B, if it were only to keep his hand in."

that makes me think he knows very well what it is he's doing, and it is all quite deliberate!

Oh - and I loved this bit!

"'But I have ever,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'sacrificed my children's happiness to my own—I mean my own happiness to my children's—and I will not begin to regulate my life by other rules of conduct now.'"

Whenever I try to work out the subtleties of a character, I always end up just laughing because Dickens has distracted me with a bit of entertaining nonsense! :D

Jean,

Comment 788. How kind. Re Dombey and Hardy, yes let's wait and see. Re JonasC and Sykes, yes, now you mention the comparison, and yes.

Comment 789. Yes, I reckon Pecksniff is a genuine, self-knowing hypocrite who has played the part for so long it's second nature, and, to him, it seems the most advantageous thing to maintain his stance in all circumstances. If not, he would have to admit his failings to others, and to himself. When playing the part, he almost believes he is a good man, but not quite! If he once admitted the truth, maybe he could achieve some redemption, and I don't think Dickens wants there to be anything good about, and for, him.

Tying myself in knots there, maybe, so I'll shut up.

It is an extraordinary portrayal! I understand exactly what you mean.

This evening I have been falling about reading the argument between Sairey Gamp and her "partner in crime" Betsy Prig. Oh my! The descriptions of the room itself had me giggling - and the bedstead is a real character all on its own, deliberately tripping people up and entangling them in its drapery ...

What mastery Dickens has shown in this novel. He's kept me intrigued with the mystery, rooting for the downtrodden worthy characters, laughing but indignant at the self-righteous ones, my heart in my mouth at the devastating scenes - the tragedy - the brutality - and oh boy the humour to lighten it all. The balance seems perfect (except for that one little slip, and the sour taste left in the mouth at the commencement of the American section).

I do wonder how often Dickens would have liked to rewrite something - but then he probably never bothered, always being too keen to get on with new projects. He did edit odd words, and the grouping of chapters for new editions, didn't he, but that's not really the same as altering great chunks of the text.

Oh, do you really like Dickens? I didn't realise!

All so true, although we disagree about the American stuff, I know.

I wonder what Dickens' intentions were before he decided to send Martin and Mark to the USA! Presumably to give them adventures that would teach Martin the lessons about himself and life that he learned in Eden? London, Kent? Or somewhere really out-of-the-way? Say abroad (did he know France well by then?), or even Yorkshire? Tough!

Mixed, I should think, which is why (for me at least) some comes off and some doesn't. Whatever else it's partly a hero's journey, a picaresque novel, a coming-of-age novel, as well as all those other aspects of mystery and characterisation I tried to enumerate in my enthusiastic third paragraph.

C'mon John - I try to be more objective in my reviews, but mayn't I be a leetle partisan here!? ;)

He dotted around a bit didn't he? London was his focus, but also the Home Counties - and he'd had shot at Yorkshire already. But I think he had ulterior motives (to do with copyright) for choosing the US. It worked well once he'd got his indignation off his chest and gone on to use his persuasive writing techniques to expose all the business scams that were going on at that time. I think the scenes in Eden were heart-rending. But then so are those in the Yorkshire schools ...

The more I think about your point, the more I think it actually worked better, sending him to the US. Martin Junior was so unbearable smug and arrogant at the beginning - a selfish young upstart - that we are made to unconsciously feel he had to go "to the ends of the earth" before anything could make a difference in his character. It adds to the drama; Dickens exaggerating as usual, for effect.

LOL! I really wasn't making any 'not objective' point, just expressing delight in the pleasure in Dickens that shone through in your para. 3.

So, you mean, say, Martin being sold an unlucky prospectus on arriving in America, and going straight to the horrors of Eden? Maybe smoother, but I liked it all.

Yes, and oh the delicious irony of that name! :)

I've just been reading one of John Sutherland's marvellous literary puzzles, entitled "Mysteries of the Dickensian Year" which focuses entirely on the calendar of events in Martin Chuzzlewit. He cites many specific instances, and basically you can't get away from the fact that ... it just doesn't add up! I'll paraphrase his analysis:

(view spoiler)[Martin leaves Pecksniff on a "dark winter's morning", and from the description, Martin and Mark set sail for America on a cold dark winter's night (ch. 15 starting "a dark and dreary night"). Sutherland deduces from the description that it is mid-winter, early Feb at the latest.

Martin tells Jeffersen Brick that it is "five weeks" since they left England. They then spend a few more weeks in the city before setting off for Eden. Back in England (in ch. 18) Anthony Chuzzlewit observes "What a cold spring it is" - early April? Meanwhile Pecksniff and Jonas call the weather "lovely ... fine and warm" as they travel back from the funeral - late April?

That's ch. 20 and immediately after that we switch back to America, with Dickens implying it is the same time, but it seems to be high summer, "a fetid vapour, hot and sickening as the breath of an oven, rose up from the earth, and hung on everything around". Apparently it is June and July when Illinois gets hot like this.

Pecksniff's attempt to woo Mary is in midsummer, by the flowery descriptions, and Tom Pinch's dismissal happens shortly afterwards, "one sultry afternoon". Tom's journey describe an English summer - he sees cricket being played.

Back in America, Martin's fever lasts "many weeks" with a further "three crawling weeks" before the steamboat returns for them. It's obviously still high summer though, as someone is sitting under a sunshade on deck. The arrival back in England is also in good weather, yet we are told "a year had passed".

Er... how? It might feel like a year, but just doesn't add up. And it can't be 18 months - to take us to the next summer, or the counterpart back in England with the Pecksniff and Pinch strand has a year missing.

There's a great summer storm in ch. 42, when Mark and Martin arrive at the Blue Dragon. As Sutherland observes,

"some six hectic months have passed in Tom Pinch's life, bringing him from February to August. A 'year' has passed in Mark and Martin's life bringing them to the same August. Clearly, if Dickens had been precise about his chronology, Martin and Mark would have missed the great summer storm by six months, arriving back in gloomy winter January or February following. Nor could their stay in America be abbreviated by half-a-year, given all the events and experiences it had to contain. 'There are some happy creeturs,' Mrs Gamp observes to Mr Mould, 'as time runs back'ards with.' Martin Chuzzlewit seems to be just such a happy creetur." (hide spoiler)]

Just brilliant!

I think what we can deduce from this is not that Dickens couldn't be bothered to get his dates right, but he sacrificed them for mood. Its important for Dickens that some events happen with dark depressing weather to accompany them - or a terrific storm to accompany violent actions - and others, light-hearted or optimistic events, are enhanced by the depiction of summer.

Sutherland makes the point that you can easily check a calendar with George Eliot, Anthony Trollope or William Thackeray and find the events match it precisely, but that's not really where Dickens's focus lies.

I've found this an interesting idea to ponder, wondering how much verisimilitude matters. It has to be believable ... and yet this twisting of time which Dickens does, seems to work!

Fascinating, Jean. But since I read the whole thing twice without noticing, that gives me my answer!

Still, it's an interesting topic to waste (while away) the hours. Another puzzle is where is Blandings Castle exactly, given PG Wodehouse's words about train timetables, time to get to London by train and by car, etc. but not really important.

So we need someone to write about conundrums in 20th century literature now! (John Sutherland's three books are all about 19th century puzzles.) Tempted, John?

I gave a big cheer for Martin senior this evening. I do love the way Dickens always makes his baddies get their come-uppance. Wonderful writing too :)

Yes, yes.

But presumably Pecksniff will just carry on his life in the same way, if impoverished? Maybe somewhere else?

Loved the dismissal note to Cherry at the church, too.

So, Pecksniff and Cherry will become a team again? What about Merry?

Finally finished *sigh*

This is the episode which made me cheer:



Warm Reception of Mr. Pecksniff by His Venerable Friend

It sounded as if Pecksniff was destined to (view spoiler)[write begging letters to Tom, amongst others.

I too loved how Cherry was jilted in front of all those relatives, in front of whom she intended to gloat. I liked the way Dickens bookended the novel there.

It seemed a bit contrived, that Bailey should "return from the dead", but the delightful humour of that episode, with him being all topsy-turvy, more than made up for it!

Maybe we are meant to wonder if poor Augustus will not drown, as he protested that he hoped, but return to find his one true love Merry. If not, she will be looked after by Martin senior, who seems to have taken it upon himself after years of selfishness, to act as a bountiful kind old gentleman (another character conversion of the type beloved by Dickens).

I am sad about Tom Pinch though. Dickens always ties things up neatly at the end, and rewards his good characters, but although we are assured that Tom's life is a fulfilled one, I felt he deserved better, and personally wanted more for him. (hide spoiler)]

Yes, re Tom P.

There were no ladies in the cast-list for him, were there? Perhaps John Westlock or Mary Graham should have had sisters?

Maybe Mrs Gamp's Mrs Harris, if a widow, might have been suitable - or maybe not!

Wasn't she a figment of Mrs Gamp's imagination?

Indeed she was! LOL!