The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Dear Curiosities,

This installment begins with Chapter 14, titled "Strong of Purpose" and we begin with John Rokesmith burying his other self, John Harmon never to be seen again:

"The sexton-task of piling earth above John Harmon all night long, was not conducive to sound sleep; but Rokesmith had some broken morning rest, and rose strengthened in his purpose. It was all over now. No ghost should trouble Mr and Mrs Boffin’s peace; invisible and voiceless, the ghost should look on for a little while longer at the state of existence out of which it had departed, and then should for ever cease to haunt the scenes in which it had no place."

This sounds to me like Rokesmith is planning to disappear from the scene shortly, taking both John Harmon and Julius Hanford with him. But for now he is still here and this day when he arrives at the Boffin home he finds Betty Higden waiting for him. Betty is worried about Mr. Sloppy she tells him.

‘’Tis just this, sir. It can’t be reasoned out of his head by any powers of mine but what that he can do right by your kind lady and gentleman and do his work for me, both together. Now he can’t. To give himself up to being put in the way of arning a good living and getting on, he must give me up. Well; he won’t.’

‘I respect him for it,’ said Rokesmith.

‘Do ye, sir? I don’t know but what I do myself. Still that don’t make it right to let him have his way. So as he won’t give me up, I’m a-going to give him up.’

‘How, Betty?’

‘I’m a-going to run away from him.’

With an astonished look at the indomitable old face and the bright eyes, the Secretary repeated, ‘Run away from him?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Betty, with one nod. And in the nod and in the firm set of her mouth, there was a vigour of purpose not to be doubted.

Yes, Betty plans to leave Sloppy, going away, being not sure of where she will go, but still determined to go:

"There’s a deadness steals over me at times, that the kind of life favours and I don’t like. Now, I seem to have Johnny in my arms—now, his mother—now, his mother’s mother—now, I seem to be a child myself, a lying once again in the arms of my own mother—then I get numbed, thought and sense, till I start out of my seat, afeerd that I’m a growing like the poor old people that they brick up in the Unions, as you may sometimes see when they let ‘em out of the four walls to have a warm in the sun, crawling quite scared about the streets. I was a nimble girl, and have always been a active body, as I told your lady, first time ever I see her good face. I can still walk twenty mile if I am put to it. I’d far better be a walking than a getting numbed and dreary. I’m a good fair knitter, and can make many little things to sell. The loan from your lady and gentleman of twenty shillings to fit out a basket with, would be a fortune for me. Trudging round the country and tiring of myself out, I shall keep the deadness off, and get my own bread by my own labour. And what more can I want?’

Betty saying she doesn't want to end up in the Unions, brings to my mind the people I see every Wednesday when we sing at one of our nursing homes, the nursing homes in our area that is. I am still amazed at how many nursing homes there are within a half hours drive from where we live. The people there are old, and some are ill, and all have trouble with one thing or another, those places are sad to me, I can't imagine what I would feel if I had to see someone in one of Dickens Union Workhouses. Dickens wrote this about Union Workhouses in Household Words in the 1850s:

"In a room opening from a squalid yard, where a number of listless women were lounging to and fro, trying to get warm in the ineffectual sunshine of the tardy May morning – in the “Itch Ward,” not to compromise the truth – a woman such as HOGARTH has often drawn, was hurriedly getting on her gown before a dusty fire. She was the nurse, or wardswoman, of that insalubrious department – herself a pauper – flabby, raw-boned, untidy…But, on being spoken about the patients whom she had in charge…sobbing most bitterly, wringing her hands…Oh, “the dropped child” was dead! Oh, the child that was found in the street, and she had brought up ever since, had died an hour ago, and see where the little creature lay, beneath this cloth! The dear, the pretty dear!…

Rokesmith tries to talk her out of it, but Betty says while she knows the Boffins would be happy to take care of her, she has never taken charity and doesn't want to as long as she can take care of herself. Something that got me wondering what a person in this year would say and do. Once Rokesmith is certain of her decision, he goes to Mrs. Boffin telling her about Betty and her plan:

"The Secretary felt that there was no gainsaying what was urged by this brave old heroine, and he presently repaired to Mrs Boffin and recommended her to let Betty Higden have her way, at all events for the time. ‘It would be far more satisfactory to your kind heart, I know,’ he said, ‘to provide for her, but it may be a duty to respect this independent spirit.’ Mrs Boffin was not proof against the consideration set before her. She and her husband had worked too, and had brought their simple faith and honour clean out of dustheaps. If they owed a duty to Betty Higden, of a surety that duty must be done."

They then decide when she will go, what she needs to begin her new life, and what will happen to Sloppy. They find that she wants to leave as soon as possible, by the next day hopefully. Bella is called to write down the things needed for Betty to begin her new trade. When she sees the look on Bella's face she tells her:

‘Don’t ye be timorous for me, my dear,’ said the stanch old heart, observant of Bella’s face: ‘when I take my seat with my work, clean and busy and fresh, in a country market-place, I shall turn a sixpence as sure as ever a farmer’s wife there.’

As to Sloppy, according to Betty he is good at wood working, or repairing just about anything:

"He would have made a wonderful cabinet-maker, said Mrs Higden, ‘if there had been the money to put him to it.’ She had seen him handle tools that he had borrowed to mend the mangle, or to knock a broken piece of furniture together, in a surprising manner. As to constructing toys for the Minders, out of nothing, he had done that daily. And once as many as a dozen people had got together in the lane to see the neatness with which he fitted the broken pieces of a foreign monkey’s musical instrument. ‘That’s well,’ said the Secretary. ‘It will not be hard to find a trade for him.’

And now Mr. Rokesmith fills the rest of his day, first by clearing the name of Gaffer Hexam with a declaration signed by Rogue Riderhood and sent to Lizzie. He also decides to have Sloppy attend the school where Bradley Headstone was schoolmaster, hearing that Lizzie's brother also was there. A poor choice I think, but he doesn't know that yet. Of course, just because I dislike Mr. Headstone I suppose doesn't make him a bad school teacher. He writes to Mr. Headstone and the school master visits him that evening. Mr. Headstone is willing to have Sloppy as a student, but asks where Rokesmith had heard of him, and finding that it was through Mr. Ligthwood becomes angry:

‘‘No,’ interposed the Secretary, smiling, ‘it was not he who recommended you. Mr Boffin heard of you through a certain Mr Lightwood. I think you know Mr Lightwood, or know of him?’

‘I know as much of him as I wish to know, sir. I have no acquaintance with Mr Lightwood, and I desire none. I have no objection to Mr Lightwood, but I have a particular objection to some of Mr Lightwood’s friends—in short, to one of Mr Lightwood’s friends. His great friend.’

He could hardly get the words out, even then and there, so fierce did he grow (though keeping himself down with infinite pains of repression), when the careless and contemptuous bearing of Eugene Wrayburn rose before his mind.

The Secretary saw there was a strong feeling here on some sore point, and he would have made a diversion from it, but for Bradley’s holding to it in his cumbersome way.

‘I have no objection to mention the friend by name,’ he said, doggedly. ‘The person I object to, is Mr Eugene Wrayburn.’

Finally, with everything being arranged for Sloppy, the conversation ends, and Rokesmith carries out his plan to clear Gaffer's name. The next morning Betty is ready to leave, and Rokesmith tells her he thinks it would be a good idea for her to take a letter with her with the name of the Boffins, in case she falls sick, which she agrees to do. And now that she is ready to leave the chapter, so will we:

‘I wouldn’t let you go, now it comes to this, after all,’ said Mr Boffin, ‘if I didn’t hope that it may make a man and a workman of Sloppy, in as short a time as ever a man and workman was made yet. Why, what have you got there, Betty? Not a doll?’

It was the man in the Guards who had been on duty over Johnny’s bed. The solitary old woman showed what it was, and put it up quietly in her dress. Then, she gratefully took leave of Mrs Boffin, and of Mr Boffin, and of Rokesmith, and then put her old withered arms round Bella’s young and blooming neck, and said, repeating Johnny’s words: ‘A kiss for the boofer lady.’

The Secretary looked on from a doorway at the boofer lady thus encircled, and still looked on at the boofer lady standing alone there, when the determined old figure with its steady bright eyes was trudging through the streets, away from paralysis and pauperism.

Chapter 15 is titled "The Whole Case so far" and we find ourselves with some of the characters I like the least, Bradley Headstone and Charley Hexam. The two are on their way to see Lizzie. Charley is certain that Lizzie will do whatever he wants her to do, and since Headstone told him of his feelings for Lizzie, and his desire to marry her, Charley knows she will do what he says and marry Headstone. Mr. Headstone, however doesn't seem as confident as Charley as to what Lizzie will do. Smart man.

‘You are still sanguine, Hexam.’

‘Certainly I am, sir. Why, we have everything on our side.’

‘Except your sister, perhaps,’ thought Bradley. But he only gloomily thought it, and said nothing.

‘Everything on our side,’ repeated the boy with boyish confidence. ‘Respectability, an excellent connexion for me, common sense, everything!’

‘To be sure, your sister has always shown herself a devoted sister,’ said Bradley, willing to sustain himself on even that low ground of hope.

‘Naturally, Mr Headstone, I have a good deal of influence with her. And now that you have honoured me with your confidence and spoken to me first, I say again, we have everything on our side.’

And Bradley thought again, ‘Except your sister, perhaps.’

This particular day, the day these two plan to settle all of Lizzie's remaining days. They wait for her, knowing when she will walk by, and when she does see them her glance seems rather troubled. She agrees to walk with them in a nearby churchyard; a paved square court, surrounded by a iron rails. Here it is that Charley tells her Mr. Headstone has something to say to her that he approves of:

‘Lizzie, Mr Headstone has something to say to you. I don’t wish to be an interruption either to him or to you, and so I’ll go and take a little stroll and come back. I know in a general way what Mr Headstone intends to say, and I very highly approve of it, as I hope—and indeed I do not doubt—you will. I needn’t tell you, Lizzie, that I am under great obligations to Mr Headstone, and that I am very anxious for Mr Headstone to succeed in all he undertakes. As I hope—and as, indeed, I don’t doubt—you must be.

And though Lizzie tries to make him stay with them, of course he doesn't, and although Lizzie tries to stop Mr. Headstone from proposing to her, he doesn't, going on and on, and really he must have known what she would say when he began. She does say it, and of course it makes him angry, but not at her, at Eugene Wrayburn. He is convinced that Eugene is the reason for her refusal.

"His head bent for a moment, as if under a weight, and he then looked up again, moistening his lips. ‘I was going on with the little I had left to say. I knew all this about Mr Eugene Wrayburn, all the while you were drawing me to you. I strove against the knowledge, but quite in vain. It made no difference in me. With Mr Eugene Wrayburn in my mind, I went on. With Mr Eugene Wrayburn in my mind, I spoke to you just now. With Mr Eugene Wrayburn in my mind, I have been set aside and I have been cast out.’

‘If you give those names to my thanking you for your proposal and declining it, is it my fault, Mr Headstone?’ said Lizzie, compassionating the bitter struggle he could not conceal, almost as much as she was repelled and alarmed by it.

‘I am not complaining,’ he returned, ‘I am only stating the case. I had to wrestle with my self-respect when I submitted to be drawn to you in spite of Mr Wrayburn. You may imagine how low my self-respect lies now.’

Finally they come back to Charley who is furious when he finds what Lizzie's answer had been. He tells her she is trying to bring him down again, and he will not be disgraced by her, saying he will have nothing to do with her anymore. He leaves her there where she then breaks down crying, when Mr. Riah passing by, sees her and comes to her. He asks her to come home with him until she is feeling better and she has dried her eyes and then he will take her home. She has just agreed when Eugene shows up and this is the first time I have disliked Eugene. I like nothing he does during this. Seeing that Lizzie is upset he does manage to ask her what is wrong, but jumps right into how long he has waited for her to pass by. And when she says in words he can't mistake:

‘Mr Wrayburn, pray, pray, leave me with this protector. And one thing more. Pray, pray be careful of yourself.’

But does he listen to her? No, he even goes on with;

‘If Mr Aaron,’ said Eugene, who soon found this fatiguing, ‘will be good enough to relinquish his charge to me, he will be quite free for any engagement he may have at the Synagogue. Mr Aaron, will you have the kindness?’

But the old man stood stock still.

‘Good evening, Mr Aaron,’ said Eugene, politely; ‘we need not detain you.’ Then turning to Lizzie, ‘Is our friend Mr Aaron a little deaf?’

Since Mr. Riah refuses to just hand her over to Eugene, they both walk her home. Eugene insists on it. And even when Lizzie is safely home, it is Mr. Riah we find still watching over her an hour later, Eugene has left long ago;

"‘Mr Aaron,’ said Eugene, when they were left together in the street, ‘with many thanks for your company, it remains for me unwillingly to say Farewell.’

‘Sir,’ returned the other, ‘I give you good night, and I wish that you were not so thoughtless.’

‘Mr Aaron,’ returned Eugene, ‘I give you good night, and I wish (for you are a little dull) that you were not so thoughtful.’

But now, that his part was played out for the evening, and when in turning his back upon the Jew he came off the stage, he was thoughtful himself. ‘How did Lightwood’s catechism run?’ he murmured, as he stopped to light his cigar. ‘What is to come of it? What are you doing? Where are you going? We shall soon know now. Ah!’ with a heavy sigh.

The heavy sigh was repeated as if by an echo, an hour afterwards, when Riah, who had been sitting on some dark steps in a corner over against the house, arose and went his patient way; stealing through the streets in his ancient dress, like the ghost of a departed Time."

And now our final chapter for this installment titled, "An Anniversary Occassion", and we find ourselves back with a group of people that I haven't thought of for a long, long, time. So long that I'm wondering what we need them at all for in the first place. The two storylines have little to do with each other, not that I can think of anyway. But here they are and so here we will be with them. We find that our loving couple, the Lammles' have now been married a year - time flies - and are having an anniversary breakfast. A breakfast rather than a dinner because "a dinner on the desired scale of sumptuosity cannot be achieved within less limits than those of the non-existent palatial residence of which so many people are madly envious."

At this breakfast we find Twemlow, (remember him?) as he arrives, the carriage of Lady Tippins pulls up, (remember her?). Also at the breakfast are Mortimer Lightwood and Eugune Wrayburn, it just occurred to me that they are two links to the other story line, perhaps there are more, I feel like I'm getting into that "six degrees of separation" thing again. Of course the Veneerings are there, Georgiana, Boots and Brewer, and Fledgby, all there. I think I have them all. And now that they've all arrived breakfast can begin;

"Breakfast announced. Everything on table showy and gaudy, but with a self-assertingly temporary and nomadic air on the decorations, as boasting that they will be much more showy and gaudy in the palatial residence. Mr Lammle’s own particular servant behind his chair; the Analytical behind Veneering’s chair; instances in point that such servants fall into two classes: one mistrusting the master’s acquaintances, and the other mistrusting the master. Mr Lammle’s servant, of the second class. Appearing to be lost in wonder and low spirits because the police are so long in coming to take his master up on some charge of the first magnitude."

During this breakfast Lady Tippins asks Mortimer about another disappearance, saying Mr. Boffin had told her to ask him for the details. He then tells the story of Lizzie receiving a letter retracting all the charges made against her father by Riderhood. She then forwarded this retraction to Mr. Boffin. As for the rest;

‘‘The natural curiosity which forms the sole ornament of my professional museum,’ he resumes, ‘hereupon desires his Secretary—an individual of the hermit-crab or oyster species, and whose name, I think, is Chokesmith—but it doesn’t in the least matter—say Artichoke—to put himself in communication with Lizzie Hexam. Artichoke professes his readiness so to do, endeavours to do so, but fails.’

‘Why fails?’ asks Boots.

‘How fails?’ asks Brewer.

‘Pardon me,’ returns Lightwood, ‘I must postpone the reply for one moment, or we shall have an anti-climax. Artichoke failing signally, my client refers the task to me: his purpose being to advance the interests of the object of his search. I proceed to put myself in communication with her; I even happen to possess some special means,’ with a glance at Eugene, ‘of putting myself in communication with her; but I fail too, because she has vanished.’

‘Vanished!’ is the general echo.

‘Disappeared,’ says Mortimer. ‘Nobody knows how, nobody knows when, nobody knows where. And so ends the story to which my honourable and fair enslaver opposite referred.’

After this totally unexpected by me story ends we return to the happy couple. The Lammles are still madly in love with each other, perhaps the feelings they have for each other have even grown, I know the feelings they have for the Veneerings has. Here is part of what Lammle had to say on this occasion;

He will never forget that at Veneering’s he first saw Sophronia. Sophronia will never forget that at Veneering’s she first saw him. ‘They spoke of it soon after they were married, and agreed that they would never forget it. In fact, to Veneering they owe their union. They hope to show their sense of this some day (‘No, no, from Veneering)—oh yes, yes, and let him rely upon it, they will if they can! His marriage with Sophronia was not a marriage of interest on either side: she had her little fortune, he had his little fortune: they joined their little fortunes: it was a marriage of pure inclination and suitability. Thank you!

How different those words sound to those of us who know the truth. Once breakfast is over Mrs. Lammle asks to speak to Twemlow saying she knows she can trust him. When they sit pretending to look at a book of portraits she tells him her reason for this meeting is Georgiana. She asks him to warn Georgiana's father about her, that there is a scheme against Georgiana.

‘Tell him I am a match-maker; tell him I am an artful and designing woman; tell him you are sure his daughter is best out of my house and my company. Tell him any such things of me; they will all be true. You know what a puffed-up man he is, and how easily you can cause his vanity to take the alarm. Tell him as much as will give him the alarm and make him careful of her, and spare me the rest. Mr Twemlow, I feel my sudden degradation in your eyes; familiar as I am with my degradation in my own eyes, I keenly feel the change that must have come upon me in yours, in these last few moments. But I trust to your good faith with me as implicitly as when I began. If you knew how often I have tried to speak to you to-day, you would almost pity me. I want no new promise from you on my own account, for I am satisfied, and I always shall be satisfied, with the promise you have given me. I can venture to say no more, for I see that I am watched. If you would set my mind at rest with the assurance that you will interpose with the father and save this harmless girl, close that book before you return it to me, and I shall know what you mean, and deeply thank you in my heart.—Alfred, Mr Twemlow thinks the last one the best, and quite agrees with you and me.’

I do think that our Mrs. Lammle does have some good feelings. It seems like she cares for Georgiana if for no one else. I don't understand the plot against the Podsnaps anyway, especially against the daughter. So hopefully things will turn out alright for Georgiana. And now we not only end this week's installment, we end the second book, and even the first volume. So, on to Book three next week.

Haven't reached this one yet, but I'm glad Twemlow is back. I didn't want my last thought of him to be an impression that he was an insert for a dining room table. ;)

Kim wrote: "Dear Curiosities,

This installment begins with Chapter 14, titled "Strong of Purpose" and we begin with John Rokesmith burying his other self, John Harmon never to be seen again:

"The sexton-task..."

"Strong of Purpose." What a fine chapter title. It was while reading this chapter that all my grumbling about the novel's apparent meanderings were swept away.

In Betty Higden, Dickens has created an incredible minor character. By creating a plot line where Betty decides to run away from Sloppy, Dickens presents the reader with much to think about.

First, there are two people who fit into the title "Strong of Purpose." Both Betty and John Harmon decide what path they will choose going forward in the novel. For Betty, her act is one of altruism as she realizes Sloppy best future lies without her presence. Betty is a proud woman and, in spite of her age, will proudly work to earn her way in life. Even the very small loan she obtains from Boffin she fully intends to repay. Similarity, John Harmon decides to bury his past. He has come to realize that Bella does not care for him and that she is rather materialistic. Harmon's easy route would be to reveal who he is and claim the money and Bella. Like Betty, Harmon decides to take the honourable path, not the easy one.

Second, Harmon sees to it that Gaffer Hexam name is cleared, and that Lizzie will receive the necessary documents. Then Harmon makes sure that Sloppy will receive an education and contracts Headstone.

Third, in a subtle but telling comment, Betty reveals that "writing of all sorts hadn't come up for such as me." While Betty is apparently somewhat illiterate, Sloppy will not be. A Dickensian nod to the importance of education for the young. The Elementary Education Act came into law in 1870.

I was interested to note how Boffin seems to be becoming a tad weary of the pressures and demands on the wealthy. His grumbling about always being patronized is a new twist to his character. As Betty takes her leave of everyone, and we see her trudging through the streets, "away from paralysis and pauperism," the reader sees the best in the human spirit. Self-respect, self-worth and self- motivation. Betty casts a huge shadow on the Lammles, Fledgeby, the Veneerings, Silas Wegg and others like them in the novel.

Dickens wrote: "The Secretary looked on from a doorway at the boofer lady thus encircled, and still looked on at the boofer lady standing alone there."

I feel compelled to say it: the use of "boofer" when not directly quoting a 3 year old is just annoying, and it needs to stop.

Kim wrote: "Chapter 15 is titled "The Whole Case so far" and we find ourselves with some of the characters I like the least, Bradley Headstone and Charley Hexam. The two are on their way to see Lizzie. Charley..."

With all of the violence and darkness in Dickens, it surprised me that I found this chapter to be incredibly intense. Headstone may not be as outwardly mean as Bill Sikes or as pure evil as Rigaud, but the fact that he's a "regular guy" - a teacher who is obsessive and becoming unhinged, is truly frightening. How many women have had to deal with narcissists like Headstone? Psychologically, he's delicious. Poor Lizzie, having to stand there and watch as Jekyll started turning into Hyde before her very eyes!

For me, Headstone is not a favorite character (as you know, I lean more towards the sunshine and lollipops of families like the Boffins, the Cratchits, the Plornishes, etc.), but he's the character I love to hate, and I devour the chapters he appears in. The closest other character to compare is Miss Wade in Little Dorrit -- she, too, was someone who made me sit up and really pay attention.

Mary Lou wrote: "Kim wrote: "Chapter 15 is titled "The Whole Case so far" and we find ourselves with some of the characters I like the least, Bradley Headstone and Charley Hexam. The two are on their way to see Liz..."

Mary Lou

When you pointed out how like a Jekyll and Hyde character Headstone is I nodded my head in complete agreement. He is one very strange character. When Dickens says that "[t]he wild energy of the man, now quite let loose, was absolutely terrible" and then later that Headstone's agitation on a gravestone created "powdered mortar" we are dealing with a person that seems to be unhinged. How the name fits. Gravestone - Headstone.

Next, Charley is very cruel when he says to Lizzie "[d]o you know that he is worth fifty of you?" Wow. I need to take a deep breath. You and Kim have a third partner in your dislike of these characters.

I'm worried too. Last chapter we saw the well-meaning Harmon arrange for Sloppy to be educated by Headstone. I certainly believe that Dickens will champion the character and the actions of Harmon, but this chapter puts Sloppy's safety and kindness in danger. What is Dickens planning to do with the innocent Sloppy? Clearly, Headstone has not made Charley a better person.

Three cheers for Lizzie. She held up with both grace and fortitude against the assault of passion from Headstone. Charley almost strikes her twice and then tells his sister "I have nothing to do with you, and I will have nothing to do with you in the future." Charley and Headstone are both toxic people. I fear for Sloppy's future.

The kindness Lizzie earlier showed to both her brother and father is balanced by a strong dose of pride, fortitude and self-worth. Can she continue to hold up her point of view?

The cruelty of the first part of this chapter is somewhat counter-balanced by Lizzie's meeting with Riah, who is kind and supportive. It is interesting that he refers to Lizzie with the words "[m]y daughter ... I will bear you company through the streets." While not her biological father, we see Riah here, and have seen him earlier at Pubsey and Co, in the role of a protective and caring parent. Lizzie certainly needs the care and support of someone who truly cares for her. And then, from the shadows, Eugene Wrayburn emerges and admits that he has been "lingering about."

This chapter has dealt with evening walks in graveyards, angry male suitors, mercurial and threatening brothers, lingering lovers and passive, gentle, caring father figures. No wonder Dickens gives a nod of recognition to the Gothic style of writing by having Wrayburn exclaim " Mystery of Udolpho!"

After some jockeying for prime position, Riah and Wrayburn both escort Lizzie to her lodging. A busy night for Lizzie with an angry brother, a semi-deranged lover, a lurking suitor and a kindly old man. Lizzie has seen and experienced enough for one night.

Peter wrote: " I fear for Sloppy's future."

I agree, in that I fear for what Sloppy may find himself unwittingly wrapped up in, But I don't worry about Headstone's influence on Sloppy. Many of us were ambivalent about Charley before he even met Bradley. Certainly, Bradley's brought out the worst in him but, frankly, I think it was already there, waiting to come out. Only Lizzie's goodness kept Charley's moral compass pointing North for as long as it did.

Alternatively, Sloppy seems to be the best sort of person - simple, but kind, loyal, dedicated - not a mean or selfish bone in his body. I don't think there's anything Headstone can do to corrupt this good boy, who grew up under the kind influence of Betty Higden.

Kim wrote: "Dear Curiosities,

This installment begins with Chapter 14, titled "Strong of Purpose" and we begin with John Rokesmith burying his other self, John Harmon never to be seen again:

"The sexton-task..."

I'm sad to say, after this chapter ended, all I could come away thinking was that Mr. Headstone will clearly speak to just about anybody who will stand still regarding Mr. Eugene Wrayburn.

Peter wrote: "Kim wrote: "Dear Curiosities,

This installment begins with Chapter 14, titled "Strong of Purpose" and we begin with John Rokesmith burying his other self, John Harmon never to be seen again:

"The..."

Ah, Peter...You put this chapter in such perspective for me! I failed to see any of this while reading. Good! :)

Peter wrote: "Mary Lou wrote: "Kim wrote: "Chapter 15 is titled "The Whole Case so far" and we find ourselves with some of the characters I like the least, Bradley Headstone and Charley Hexam. The two are on the..."

I wish she would have held her ground better by telling Wrayburn "exactly" why she was telling him to take care of himself against anybody with whom he may have jilted recently. She should have just remained quiet and not said a word like originally planned.

The kindness Lizzie earlier showed to both her brother and father is balanced by a strong dose of pride, fortitude and self-worth.
Peter, I could be misreading your post here, but are you saying Lizzie's kindness is balanced by pride, fortitude and self-worth?

The Whole Case So Far

Like Mary Lou, I was completely engrossed in this chapter. Dickens describes Charley and Headstone's walk before Lizzie joins them with words of an ominous air, it couldn't have ended well for Lizzie, unfortunately...

A grey dusty withered evening in London city has not a hopeful aspect. The closed warehouses and offices have an air of death about them, and the national dread of color as has air of mourning.The towers and steeples of the many house-encompassed churches, dark and dingy as the sky that seems descending on them, are no relief to the general gloom; a sun-dial on a church-wall has the look, in its useless black shade, of having failed in its business enterprise and stopped payment for ever; melancholy waifs and strays of housekeepers and porter sweep melancholy waifs and strays of papers and pins into the kennels, and other more melancholy waifs and strays explore them, searching and stooping and poking for anything to sell. The set of humanity outward from the City is as a set of prisoners departing from gaol, and dismal Newgate seems quite as fit a stronghold for the mighty Lord Mayor as his own state-dwelling (382-383).

Adding insult to injury, Dickens does not relent with these dreadful descriptors as Headstone and Lizzie continue walking together with Charley into what appears to be a graveyard! Really, you want to profess your love and ask this beautiful woman to marry you in a church graveyard...What was Headstone thinking?! I cannot believe how he unraveled in front of her in this manner. It reminded me of a scene in Thomas Hardy's, "Far from the Madding Crowd;" where another jilted and deranged lover, a Mr. William Boldwood comes undone over his jealousy of Sergeant Troy over beautiful Bathsheba...Well, I'm sure most of us know how that scenario ends?

Peter we were talking about Headstone's name in the previous chapter, and after reading this chapter, do you think there's any merit to blunt force trauma to the head with a stone of somebody, or maybe even a foot? Dickens writes,

Far better that I never did! The only one grain of comfort I have had these many weeks,’ he said, always speaking passionately, and, when most emphatic, repeating that former action of his hands, which was like flinging his heart’s blood down before her in drops upon the pavement-stones...He stopped and laid his hand upon a piece of the coping of the burial-ground enclosure, as if he would have dislodged the stone...“He said no more until they had regained the spot where he had broken off; there, he again stood still, and again grasped the stone. In saying what he said then, he never looked at her; but looked at it and wrenched at it...'Then,’ said he, suddenly changing his tone and turning to her, and bringing his clenched hand down upon the stone with a force that laid the knuckles raw and bleeding; then I hope that I may never kill him! The dark look of hatred and revenge with which the words broke from his livid lips, and with which he stood holding out his smeared hand as if it held some weapon and had just struck a mortal blow, made her so afraid of him that she turned to run away. But he caught her by the arm.

Is somebody about to get bonked...I don't know?

Another Question
Why does Wrayburn refer to Riah as Mr. Aaron...Is it yet another slight on his being Jewish?

Ami wrote: "Peter wrote: "Mary Lou wrote: "Kim wrote: "Chapter 15 is titled "The Whole Case so far" and we find ourselves with some of the characters I like the least, Bradley Headstone and Charley Hexam. The ..."

Hi Ami

Perhaps I was unclear. Oops! What I meant to say is that Lizzie has shown two sides to her character. She is kind, thoughtful, self-sacrificing and loving. She is also, and I also see these qualities as both positive and remarkable, a person who has pride ( she will not do what another person such as Headstone or her brother wants, or demands, as many of Dickens's faint-of-heart young ladies would) she has fortitude in that I can see her standing up to further verbal/physical assaults from others, and she has self-worth. I do not see Lizzie, in any way, egotistical. I do see her as a young lady who values her own person, her own values, and her own aspirations. Overall, a major step forward in Dickens's portrayals of young female characters.

Sorry if my post was vague or unclear. As you can see, I really enjoy her character in the novel.

An Anniversary Occasion
All of a sudden, or has this been in the making...Mrs. Lammle's conscience surfacing? Although I loved the interaction between Twemlow and her, again, I felt as if this was another means to propel another plot forward similar to Chapter 12 in the previous reading.

Mrs. Tippins makes me laugh out loud, as does Twemlow's exasperated countenance!

Peter wrote: "Ami wrote: "Peter wrote: "Mary Lou wrote: "Kim wrote: "Chapter 15 is titled "The Whole Case so far" and we find ourselves with some of the characters I like the least, Bradley Headstone and Charley..."

Ah, yes...I see. Thank you, Peter. I just wanted to make sure because I saw this moment for her, similar to her standing her ground with Miss Potterson, that it was more about having dignity in truth than it being a matter of pride. She doesn't appear to me as getting any great satisfaction from any of this adversity she encounters...Instead she is met with continued disappointment and loss.

Lizzie like Jenny Wren, are both taken by the fire, as they are able to see within its flames more than the average eye is able. Perhaps, their strength of character is built by being raked over the coals by adversity? Neither shirk from fear, taking into account both women (one with an affliction Dickens is relentless in his criticism for) take a stand when necessary and continue to endure because they've been through worse.

Re ch 15.

I was moved by the final exchange between Riah and Eugene -- one "so thoughtful " and one "so thoughtless"-- to go back and compare how each approaches Lizzie. Dickens seems to be making a point in that trading of retorts.

Riah says, after looking and considering for a while and finally coming to Lizzie:

“My daughter,' said the old man, 'I stand amazed! I spoke as to a stranger. Take my arm, take my arm. What grieves you? Who has done this? Poor girl, poor girl!”

He didn't even recognize her. I spoke as to a stranger. The fact that he thinks about the wisdom of approaching a stranger shows a very thoughtful man indeed.

Eugene is loitering and watching for Lizzie, and when he sees her, he pays no attention to her troubled demeanor or company, but speaks flippantly:

“They [Riah and Lizzie] were in the act of emerging into the main thoroughfare, when another figure loitering discontentedly by, and looking up the street and down it, and all about, started and exclaimed, 'Lizzie! why, where have you been? Why, what's the matter?”

Where have you been?!!? Oh Eugene, you who do not like to be serious, you have much to learn!

I was reading in my Dickens A-Z that T.S. Eliot took inspiration for his famous poem The Wasteland from OMF.

Sorry to return to the last part of Ch15, but I'm trying to figure out why Eugene is so rude to Riah and flippant to Lizzie , and then, alone, he refers to playing a part.

For instance, why does he use the first person plural here, as if to a child?

“Our brother the matter?' returned Eugene, with airy contempt. 'Our brother is not worth a thought, far less a tear. What has our brother done”

Why does Dickens describe him as an actor?

“But now, that his part was played out for the evening, and when in turning his back upon the Jew he came off the stage, he was thoughtful himself. 'How did Lightwood's catechism run?' he murmured, as he stopped to light his cigar. 'What is to come of it? What are you doing? Where are you going? We shall soon know now. Ah!' with a heavy sigh.”

The Boofer Lady

Book 2 Chapter 14

Marcus Stone

Commentary:

Stone's illustration for Book 2, Chapter 14, "Strong of Purpose," recalls the adopted orphan Johnny's dying from a respiratory ailment, and his final words in the Children's Hospital, to which Mrs. Boffin, Bella Wilfer, and John Rokesmith had taken him. The moment the illustrator has chosen to realise is the end of a passage in Part 10 (the monthly number for February 1865):

'I wouldn't let you go, now it comes to this, after all,' said Mr. Boffin, 'if I didn't hope that it may make a man and a workman of Sloppy, in as short a time as ever a man and workman was made yet. Why, what have you got there, Betty? Not a doll?'

It was the man in the Guards who had been on duty over Johnny's bed. The solitary old woman showed what it was, and put it up quietly in her dress. Then, she gratefully took leave of Mrs. Boffin, and of Mr. Boffin, and of Rokesmith, and then put her old withered arms round Bella's young and blooming neck, and said, repeating Johnny's words: 'A kiss for the boofer lady.'

The Secretary looked on from a doorway at the boofer lady thus encircled, and still looked on at the boofer lady standing alone there, when the determined old figure with its steady bright eyes was trudging through the streets, away from paralysis and pauperism.

The phrase, a variation of which made it famous for a later generation of Victorians famous in Bram Stoker's Dracula (May, 1897) as the "Bloofer Lady" (a child-like description of Lucy Westenra, a nineteen-year-old beauty), is the title of this illustration, "The Boofer Lady," In Our Mutual Friend, little Johnny Higden, dying at the Children's Hospital, refers to Bella Wilfer, as "The boofer lady" when in Book 2, Chapter 9, "In Which The Orphan Makes His Will," he bequeaths to other suffering children in his ward his horse, Noah's ark, guardsman, and other toys lavished upon by the Boffins, and then asks Bella for a parting kiss:

With a weary and yet a pleased smile, and with an action as if he stretched his little figure out to rest, the child heaved his body on the sustaining arm, and seeking Rokesmith's face with his lips, said:

'A kiss for the boofer lady.'

As Betty Higden leaves the Boffins', she recalls these pathetic words, shaped by a child so young as to be unable to pronounce "beautiful." However, instead of realising Betty's departure, Marcus Stone focuses on Bella's subsequent introspective moment just afterward. As John Harmon ("Rokesmith") observes her from the door of the drawing-room, Bella does regard the signs of her affluence, the drawing portfolio and the books on the writing table; rather, she seems to be looking inward, pondering her own shortcomings, including her acquisitiveness, and debating with herself whether she was wise to reject the Secretary's offer of marriage at the conclusion of the ninth monthly part.

Thus, the illustration acts as an extension of Dickens's text rather than a realisation of it, since the author's focus at this moment is the consciousness of the Secretary and not of Bella Wilfer. This illustration leads the reader to believe that Bella is experiencing regret; thus, the illustration of an apparently a minor moment in the tenth monthly part (February, 1865) in fact prepares the reader for a significant plot gambit.

Such a single-subject illustration (which, but for the lightly sketched in figure of Rokesmith in the background, right, this certainly is) is rare both in Stone's narrative-pictorial sequence for Our Mutual Friend in particular — for Stone tends to favour two-person scenes — and in nineteenth-century illustrated fiction generally because such "character studies" do little to engage the reader because they rarely advance the plot or realise a significant action. However, the revolutionary illustrators of the 1860s were prepared to challenge the status quo in order to study the psychology of significant characters in the narrative, a feature of their work which distinguishes it from that of the previous generation of illustrators — George Cruikshank, John Leech, Hablot Knight Browne ("Phiz"), George Cattermole, and others — whose focus seems to have been to provide readers a detailed and faithful realisation of the poses, postures, juxtapositions, and physical contexts (especially furnishings) of characters. However, here, as in "Waiting for Father", Marcus Stone chooses to dwell on the state-of-mind of a single female character.

A Friend in Need

Book 2 Chapter 15

Marcus Stone

Commentary:

Riah Proves Himself — Once Again — A Good Samaritan

Stone's city churchyard at night and eerily lit by several small gas lamps is merely an atmospheric backdrop for the chance meeting of the benevolent Jew, Riah, Fascination Fledgeby's front man at Pubsey & Co., and Lizzie Hexam in the second illustration for part ten (February 1865). The textual moment occurs just after Lizzie's brother, Charley, has reprimanded her for refusing to renounce her interest in Eugene Wrayburn in favour of Bradley Headstone, his mentor:

'I'll not unsay them. I'll say them again. You are an inveterately bad girl, and a false sister, and I have done with you. For ever, I have done with you!'

He threw up his ungrateful and ungracious hand as if it set up a barrier between them, and flung himself upon his heel and left her. She remained impassive on the same spot, silent and motionless, until the striking of the church clock roused her, and she turned away. But then, with the breaking up of her immobility came the breaking up of the waters that the cold heart of the selfish boy had frozen. And 'O that I were lying here with the dead!' and 'O Charley, Charley, that this should be the end of our pictures in the fire!' were all the words she said, as she laid her face in her hands on the stone coping.

A figure passed by, and passed on, but stopped and looked round at her. It was the figure of an old man with a bowed head, wearing a large brimmed low-crowned hat, and a long-skirted coat. After hesitating a little, the figure turned back, and, advancing with an air of gentleness and compassion, said:

'Pardon me, young woman, for speaking to you, but you are under some distress of mind. I cannot pass upon my way and leave you weeping here alone, as if there was nothing in the place. Can I help you? Can I do anything to give you comfort?'

She raised her head at the sound of these kind words, and answered gladly, 'O, Mr Riah, is it you?'

'My daughter,' said the old man, 'I stand amazed! I spoke as to a stranger. Take my arm, take my arm. What grieves you? Who has done this? Poor girl, poor girl!'

'My brother has quarrelled with me,' sobbed Lizzie, 'and renounced me.'

'He is a thankless dog,' said the Jew, angrily. 'Let him go.' Shake the dust from thy feet and let him go. Come, daughter! Come home with me — it is but across the road — and take a little time to recover your peace and to make your eyes seemly, and then I will bear you company through the streets. For it is past your usual time, and will soon be late, and the way is long, and there is much company out of doors to-night.'

She accepted the support he offered her, and they slowly passed out of the churchyard.

A figure through whom Dickens contradicts popular nineteenth-century prejudices against Jews, Riah is instantly recognizable by his staff, long coat, long hair, patriarchal beard, and broad-brimmed hat. Although Riah seems neither amazed or indignant, Stone's Riah gesticulates, as if inviting Lizzie Hexam to accompany him home through not entirely tranquil streets. Lizzie, too, is not quite as the text presents her, for she is not sobbing or distraught. The text indicates that the meeting occurs amidst tombstones, "a paved square court, with a raised bank of earth about breast high, in the middle, enclosed by iron rails". Stone has added a full moon slightly obscured by clouds, dim gas lamps, and spectral outlines of buildings in the background — but the grave-markers are almost entirely on the other side of the wrought-iron fence, and there is no embankment such as Dickens describes.

"The dark look of hatred and revenge with which the words broke from his livid lips, and with which he stood holding out his smeared hand as if it held some weapon, and had just struck a mortal blow, made her so afraid of him that she turned to run away. But he caught her by the arm."

Book 2 Chapter 15

James Mahoney

Household Edition

1875

Text Illustrated:

"Stop! I implore you, before you answer me, to walk round this place once more. It will give you a minute's time to think, and me a minute's time to get some fortitude together."

Again she yielded to the entreaty, and again they came back to the same place, and again he worked at the stone.

"Is it," he said, with his attention apparently engrossed by it, "yes, or no?"

"Mr. Headstone, I thank you sincerely, I thank you gratefully, and hope you may find a worthy wife before long and be very happy. But it is no."

"Is no short time necessary for reflection; no weeks or days?" he asked, in the same half-suffocated way.

"None whatever."

"Are you quite decided, and is there no chance of any change in my favour?"

"I am quite decided, Mr. Headstone, and I am bound to answer I am certain there is none."

"Then," said he, suddenly changing his tone and turning to her, and bringing his clenched hand down upon the stone with a force that laid the knuckles raw and bleeding; "then I hope that I may never kill him!"

The dark look of hatred and revenge with which the words broke from his livid lips, and with which he stood holding out his smeared hand as if it held some weapon and had just struck a mortal blow, made her so afraid of him that she turned to run away. But he caught her by the arm.

"Mr. Headstone, let me go. Mr. Headstone, I must call for help!"


Commentary:

Despite the fact that it was his visual antecedent, Mahoney sometimes chose to diverge from the illustrations provided by Marcus Stone ten years earlier in collaboration with Charles Dickens himself. For example, whereas the second February 1865 illustration depicts Lizzie Hexam assisted by Riah after her dismissal of Bradley Headstone, Mahoney for the same chapter has elected to show that emotional confrontation. As is typical of the Mahoney series, the scene in the street is more realistic and less impressionistic than that by Dickens's original serial and volume illustrator, A Friend in Need, in the tenth monthly part in the British serialization.

The context of the scene, that is, Headstone's proposal in a quiet byway in the vicinity of Leadenhall Street, is rendered far more specific through the text that precedes the dialogue:

"The court brought them to a churchyard; a paved square court, with a raised bank of earth about breast high, in the middle, enclosed by iron rails. Here, conveniently and healthfully elevated above the level of the living, were the dead, and the tombstones; some of the latter droopingly inclined from the perpendicular, as if they were ashamed of the lies they told. "

Whereas Stone had provided a panoramic view of the cemetery and its area railing, Mahoney has moved in for a close-up of Lizzie and Bradley, so that the area behind the rails might be a park — until one notices a grave-marker. The foregrounded figures are obvious: Headstone, the schoolmaster, to the left, and to the right, dressed in highly respectable, middle-class mourning, Lizzie Hexam. Bradley Headstone's demeanor is anything but respectful, and Lizzie struggles to get away from him.

"Mrs. Lammle, on a sofa by the table, invites Mr. Twemlow's attention to a book of portraits in her hand"

Book 2 Chapter 16

James Mahoney

Household Edition

1875

Text Illustrated:

Mrs. Lammle has sat quite still, with her eyes cast down upon the table-cloth. As Mr. Lammle's address ends, Twemlow once more turns to her involuntarily, not cured yet of that often recurring impression that she is going to speak to him. This time she really is going to speak to him. Veneering is talking with his other next neighbour, and she speaks in a low voice.

"Mr. Twemlow."

He answers, "I beg your pardon? Yes?" Still a little doubtful, because of her not looking at him.

"You have the soul of a gentleman, and I know I may trust you. Will you give me the opportunity of saying a few words to you when you come up stairs?"

"Assuredly. I shall be honoured."

"Don't seem to do so, if you please, and don't think it inconsistent if my manner should be more careless than my words. I may be watched."

Intensely astonished, Twemlow puts his hand to his forehead, and sinks back in his chair meditating. Mrs. Lammle rises. All rise. The ladies go up stairs. The gentlemen soon saunter after them. Fledgeby has devoted the interval to taking an observation of Boots's whiskers, Brewer's whiskers, and Lammle's whiskers, and considering which pattern of whisker he would prefer to produce out of himself by friction, if the Genie of the cheek would only answer to his rubbing.

In the drawing-room, groups form as usual. Lightwood, Boots, and Brewer, flutter like moths around that yellow wax candle — guttering down, and with some hint of a winding-sheet in it — Lady Tippins. Outsiders cultivate Veneering, M. P., and Mrs. Veneering, W. M. P. Lammle stands with folded arms, Mephistophelean in a corner, with Georgiana and Fledgeby. Mrs. Lammle, on a sofa by a table, invites Mr. Twemlow's attention to a book of portraits in her hand.

Mr. Twemlow takes his station on a settee before her, and Mrs. Lammle shows him a portrait.

"You have reason to be surprised," she says softly, "but I wish you wouldn't look so."

Disturbed Twemlow, making an effort not to look so, looks much more so.

"I think, Mr. Twemlow, you never saw that distant connexion of yours before to-day?"

"No, never."

"Now that you do see him, you see what he is. You are not proud of him?"

"To say the truth, Mrs. Lammle, no."


Commentary:

The Harper and Brothers woodcut for sixteenth chapter, "An Anniversary Occasion," in the second book, "Birds of a Feather," realizes the moment in the Lammles' parlor when, Twemlow having dropped by to congratulate his host and hostess on their first anniversary, the social gossip turns to the disappearance of Lizzie Hexam. The picture flags an important ​point, however, since Mrs. Lammle is employing the portrait book as a ruse to fool her husband (standing nearby, beside the Veneerings) as to the true subject of her conversation with Twemlow: she asks her guest to warn Podsnap about the Lammles' plot to marry off Georgiana Podsnap to Fascination Fledgeby. Mahoney gives Twemlow a thoroughly puzzled expression, for he cannot fathom why she is betraying her plan to him, or how precisely he is to alert Podsnap to the danger — "But warn him against whom?"

Despite the fact that it was his visual antecedent, Mahoney ten years later deviated from the choices for illustration made by Dickens and his original illustrator Marcus Stone, so that, for the February, 1865 installment, the tenth monthly part in the British serialization, there is no counterpart to this illustration of the Lammles' anniversary party. And, although they had access to the Stone series, American illustrators Sol Eytinge, Jr. (1867) and Felix Octavius Carr Darley (1866) chose other scenes, so that Mahoney's depiction of drawing-room society is without parallel or precedent. Mahoney's depiction of the Lammles, Twemlow (center), and the Veneerings (right rear), however, is consistent both with his own earlier illustrations and with such Marcus Stone illustrations as The Happy Pair (July 1864)​ and Mahoney's own series such as "One thing, however, that I can do for you," says Tremlow; "and that is, work for you", which contains a Twemlow with the same idiosyncratic hair-style.

LindaH wrote: "Re ch 15.

I was moved by the final exchange between Riah and Eugene -- one "so thoughtful " and one "so thoughtless"-- to go back and compare how each approaches Lizzie. Dickens seems to be making..."

Hi Linda

May I offer a possible answer to your question?

We know that Lizzie has two suitors. In this chapter she has been in the presence of each of them. Headstone was horrid to her. Abusive, threatening, and physical to the extent he hurts his hand on a gravestone in anger, he is unable to move - or threaten - Lizzie into compromising her principles.

Next, out of the shadows comes Eugene Wrayburn. I think the words "part being played out for the evening" is suggestive of the way he sees his evening's activity ending. He was lurking and waiting for Lizzie, but when he is in her presence, in this and prior incidences, he is incapable of properly, or with any sense of occasion, expressing his emotional feelings for her. as a gentleman should. Thus, he is an actor who is doomed, time and again, to play a part rather than express his own self.

Wrayburn realizes his emotional shortcomings. When he and Riah part for the evening, Riah points out that Wrayburn lacks social propriety when he says to Wrayburn "I give you good night, and I wish that you were not so thoughtless." The key to unlocking the scene I believe rests with Wrayburn's response: " I give you good night, and wish ( for you are a little dull) that you were not so thoughtful." To me, this response, which Dickens has structured to be a mirror image and yet opposite of Riah's comment, shows that Wrayburn is aware of his lack of social grace, is aware of his character flaws, and yet has not the inclination or the ability to rectify them.

I see Wrayburn as the successor to Sydney Carton. Both contain potential, both are in love with a woman, but both are unable to step off the stage upon which they are playing out their lives and assume the role that could possibly win the woman they love.

Kim wrote: "A Friend in Need

Book 2 Chapter 15

Marcus Stone

Commentary:

Riah Proves Himself — Once Again — A Good Samaritan

Stone's city churchyard at night and eerily lit by several small gas lamps is me..."

Kim. This week's crop of illustrations. They are all very interesting. I enjoyed them. Thank you.

My favourite is the Stone churchyard scene. Dark, errie, and flavoured with a Gothic touch. As mentioned in the commentary there is a partially obscured moon, misty street lamps, and the buildings are distinguishable, but not clearly defined. Yes, indeed great mood.

But to me the most striking, most obvious, and central focus of the illustration is Lizzie's face. It is so clear, so white, so pure and yes, even so radiant amid the surroundings. Lizzie has just endured a horrid meeting with he brother and the slightly deranged Headstone. She has just been approached by a stranger who thankfully turns out to be Riah, but no doubt his emerging from the night would have rattled most young ladies. Still, in the midst of this upsetting vortex, she radiates a small island of light which is white, clear, and distinguishable. While Riah is good, Stone has placed him so we do not get a clear image of him.

Notice how they both seem to be standing in a weak pool of light which is no doubt shed from a streetlight on the left that is outside the frame of our illustration. There is another such pool of light on the ground from the visable lamps on the left middle space. The image suggests they are centre stage, which they are, but only Lizzie radiates a light or glow from her face.

One could argue that the illustration suggests Lizzie is white from fear. I think not. She is a beacon.

Peter,

I think you're right. Wrayburn cannot express his real feelings to Lizzie and so he must play a part. Your explanation makes me realize just how much emotion he has been carrying around since he first set eyes on Lizzie. We haven't seen much of them together so I guess Dickens trusts us to know that Eugene has won her confidence and love. In their meeting in ch15, Lizzie implores Eugene to be careful, but perhaps, even though he is light-hearted and disrespectful to Riah, Eugene is trying to be protective of Lizzie. Since he immediately thinks of the third degree about his intentions by Mortimer when alone, he must have been troubled by it.

Before seeing Eugene in this new way, I read the paragraph below not believing he could be so arrogant. Now he seems fully aware of his responsibility:

“He knew his power over her. He knew that she would not insist upon his leaving her. He knew that, her fears for him being aroused, she would be uneasy if he were out of her sight. For all his seeming levity and carelessness, he knew whatever he chose to know of the thoughts of her heart.”

Kim wrote: ""Mrs. Lammle, on a sofa by the table, invites Mr. Twemlow's attention to a book of portraits in her hand"

Book 2 Chapter 16

James Mahoney

Household Edition

1875

Text Illustrated:

Mrs. Lammle..."

I've been puzzling over this picture and trying to link it to my thoughts on the chapter. In the meantime, of course, I've enjoyed the Twemlow "flip." Any hairstyle of such magnitude needs a name, don't you think?.

Mrs. Lammle is showing Twemlow a book of portraits. Why would Dickens be so specific as to the type of book? Well, I think it is because a portrait suggests a person, but a portrait is also just a two-dimensional static representation of who a person really is. To me, the portrait book in Mrs. Lammle's hand works as a wonderful symbol.

The chapter's title is "An Anniversary Occasion." Near the end of the chapter Mrs Lammle and Twemlow discuss the concept of portraits and how and what can be discerned from a portrait. As Mrs Lammle shows different portraits to Twemlow she also presses into his mind how each portrait is "almost a caricature" and uses each portrait to punctuate another urgent request for Tremlow to help save Georgiana from the Lammle's plans. Twemlow is "in a stunned condition" as a result of this revelation.

Mrs Lammle confesses that she is "a match-maker ... and a designing woman" and that Georgiana is "best out of my house and my company." Thus, through the rouse of looking at a portrait, Mrs. Lammle reveals her true self as well as that of her husband. We are told that as the party breaks up Mr. Twemlow " remains looking at Alfred's portrait through his eye-glass." Here we have a wonderful double symbol. Armed with the new knowledge of what the Lammles are like, we have Twemlow looking with new, clearer eyes, symbolized by the mention of his eye-glasses, at a portrait of Alfred Lammle.

OMF has been so far a novel of characters with double identities, hidden identities and misunderstood identities. Here we have another reveal of who and what people are really like. Mrs. Lammle does have a conscious. Mr Tremlow is a man to be trusted - and if not we will certainly see him turn on Mrs. Lammle soon.

Thus, as this chapter and this section ends, we as readers also celebrate an anniversary occasion. Yet another character has been revealed, and thus have, symbolically, come out of the state of being a simple portrait and into the text as a more fully revealed person.

These three chapters seem to reveal such noble motives - and such base ones too. Will John Rokemith really be able to subsume his real self for ever, despite whatever provocation he experiences? Perhaps not, but he intends to at this moment. We see his moral fibre, and self-control, and it's in stark contrast to most of the other young men in this novel!

We also see the upright and independent Betty Higden, determined not to "take charity" from anyone, and Sloppy, desperately trying to pull his weight and do right by both his employers/benefactors. And Riah, who has been courteous and kindly from the start, and resists all the jibes thrown his way.

The biggest surprise for me was in Sophronia Lammle, whom I thought was fairly mercenary, if not quite as much as Alfred, but possibly a little in thrall to him. And Twemlow! Who would have thought he would turn out to have a brain in his body - and a conscience too! Great stuff!

The baddies? Charley, of course, although perhaps he will improve, as he is still very young. "Mephistophilian" Alfred Lammle, although there's nothing new there. And there are two more ...

From the start I've disliked Eugene Wrayburn, and feel Dickens portrays him in a bad light using words like languid, indolent, lazy, etc., although most here seem to like him. I think I've probably given examples before from earlier chapters. Here's how he looked at Bradley Headstone:

"It was a cruel look, in its cold disdain of him, as a creature of no worth."

And even with his best friend, the most he can do is fire off witty comments, and plead:

"'You know how dreadfully susceptible I am to boredom...'"

and other throwaway lines about riddles, to divert and obfuscate.

His behaviour towards Lizzie is surely his greatest - and basest - mask. His intentions are clear to all around him - Mortimer Lightwood, Jenny Wren, Riah, Charley, and Bradley Headstone. None of them trust him an inch.

Bradley Headstone is a conundrum to me, though several here dislike him intensely. So I started again, looking at these two, and how they got to where they now are.

Class and social standing

Bradley Headstone is not very bright, and knows it. He has had to work very hard, from impoverished beginnings, for his post as a teacher - and continues to do so. So when he sees someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth (Eugene Wrayburn) who is lazy and arrogant, his hackles, his honour, and his sense of what is fair, rise. Eugene can run rings around him in intelligence, and has (so far) no moral scruples sacrificing all for a witty comment.

Eugene thoroughly enjoys showing off his talents, putting this impertinent (as he sees it) young fellow in his place, and that place is far below him on the social scale.

Bradley assumed before he was introduced to Lizzie, that she would regard him as a "catch". He was looking for a wife, to complete his new hard-won image of himself, and thought that his brightest pupil's sister might fit the bill. So this was just an idea - he only knew of her as Charley's sister - and we all remember how surprised he was when he finally met her. She is portrayed as one of those Dickens' characters, often female, who rises above their lowly situation by their intelligence, kindness and general demeanour. She has tried to both cope with and love a dubious father, and better both herself and those around her. Most of this is apparent at a glance to Bradley Headstone, and although he still anticipated that she may care for him, he has been well and truly quashed now, and I feel for him!! His strong sense of honour made him want to warn her about Eugene, who in Bradley's estimation, and probably that of society, had stepped outside what is respectable.

As Charley's teacher, he would feel entitled to help find a teacher for Lizzie - but would wait until it was appropriate to say. As Bradley Headstone sees it, Eugene Wrayburn has come from nowhere, and "taken over" the job, just because he has the power and influence. In doing this, Eugene did not appear to consider anyone else, nor inform them, so did not obey the proprieties. It seemed to be done covertly, with no consideration for how this might make Lizzie look in the eyes of the world.

Bradley and Jenny suspect that Eugene has ulterior motives in this. They also suspect the gentle and obliging way Eugene treats Lizzie, which is a stark contrast to the way he treats everyone else. Even his closest friend Mortimer Lightwood never gets a straight answer from him, but only cheap jokes, or a possibly assumed lazy indolence.

Eugene's attitude to Lizzie is less easy to pin down, which makes me suspect that he may be one of those characters who goes through a "journey", much like Pip in Great Expectations, who thinks and behaves appallingly for about 3 quarters of the book only to makes a remarkable moral improvement by the end, to turn into our hero!

Anyway, Eugene is confused by Lizzie. Yes, he is in love with her, although he would not admit it to anyone (yet?) But she is way below him in the social scale - and even below Bradley Headstone himself, so he is struggling with his feelings as she is not an obvious "match".

He also cleverly recognises, as Bradley does not, that he will have to work on her (persuade her, or seduce her, in a way) to bring her to love him. He does this by being so attentive, and working towards being indispensable as the organiser of her education, although it is not his place. He is very careful never to overstep the mark, as to what Lizzie herself would consider respectable from a man. He is not a cad. Although the fact that he, a single man, calls on Lizzie in secret, is in itself enough to raise an eyebrow at that time. Again, his cleverness makes him realise that Lizzie, who is proud to think for herself, would have no truck for those restrictive sort of social conventions, but is more independent and "modern" in her outlook.

Jenny and Bradley both see that this persuasive technique is working. Neither can do anything about it. (And neither can the reader!) Bradley Headstone in this recent chapter shows such a violent nature that he has turned Lizzie, and some readers, away from him even more. But look at his speech which begins:

"'Yes! you are the ruin--the ruin--the ruin--of me. I have no resources in myself, I have no confidence in myself, I have no government of myself when you are near me or in my thoughts. And you are always in my thoughts now. I have never been quit of you since I first saw you. Oh, that was a wretched day for me! That was a wretched, miserable day!' ...

'You know what I am going to say. I love you. What other men may mean when they use that expression, I cannot tell; what I mean is, that I am under the influence of some tremendous attraction which I have resisted in vain, and which overmasters me. You could draw me to fire, you could draw me to water, you could draw me to the gallows, you could draw me to any death, you could draw me to anything I have most avoided, you could draw me to any exposure and disgrace. This and the confusion of my thoughts, so that I am fit for nothing, is what I mean by your being the ruin of me. But if you would return a favourable answer to my offer of myself in marriage, you could draw me to any good--every good--with equal force. My circumstances are quite easy, and you would want for nothing."

Is this really so different from the "heroic" Mr Darcy of Pride and Prejudice's first disastrous proposal of marriage? The only difference perhaps is that Mr Darcy had had the advantage of a good education and stable family background, so that he knew how to control his feelings better!

In this latest chapter, Bradley's rash honest avowal played right into lurking, "loitering discontentedly by" (I shouted at this "happy" coincidence!) smooth-talking Eugene's hands. He appears at his most concerned, even though Riah is not fooled, "having taken in the whole of Eugene at one sharp glance". And I'm not sure why Lizzie does not see all the insults Eugene flings at Riah, taunting him with being a clothesman, and having to go to the synagogue, and calling him "Mr Aaron" rather than asking his name.

He does nearly go too far:

"'Our brother the matter?' returned Eugene, with airy contempt. 'Our brother is not worth a thought, far less a tear. What has our brother done?'"

but checks himself. No harm was done, and "his part was played out for the evening,"

He is dazzling poor Lizzie:

"his lightest touch, his lightest look, his very presence beside her in the dark common street, were like glimpses of an enchanted world,"

And chapter 16 - in among all the revelations from Sophronia Lammle, we also got Eugene making sure that his friend Mortimer told the news about Lizzie. What a puppet-master!

So we have Eugene's bad-boy attractiveness versus Bradley's over-earnest priggishness. Whom, if anyone, do we trust as a beau for Lizzie?

Jean wrote: "From the start I've disliked Eugene Wrayburn, and feel Dickens portrays him in a bad light using words like languid, indolent, lazy, etc., although most here seem to like him. I think I've probably..."

Jean

Great analysis and commentary. There is certainly much more depth, and thus unresolved questions in this novel than the earlier novels that seemed set in stone from the early chapters.

Now as to where Lizzie's heart will go. Since I see Eugene as a later novel Sydney Carton, I'm cheering for him, but the road won't be straight or smooth. Could Dickens leave her unmarried?

Kim wrote: "
‘Everything on our side,’ repeated the boy with boyish confidence. ‘Respectability, an excellent connexion for me, common sense, everything!’ "

I wonder whether he will still, when he contemplates marriage, think that liking, affection, maybe even love, have nothing to do with marriage.

Peter wrote: "Could Dickens leave her unmarried? ..."

I wondered this, and Charley certainly would like to see Miss Peecher wedded to Bradley Headstone, but I think she is destined to be one of Dickens's feisty Old Maids. Sometimes characters (in 18th and 19th century literature) such as Lizzie do not marry - I'm thinking of a couple of novels by Anthony Trollope and George Eliot (and avoiding saying which, in case of disappointment!)

And of course I hope Lizzie "saves" that arrogant snake Eugene Wrayburn, and that he becomes a reformed character, as may be Dickens's whim. He does like his happy endings after all. But I think Eugene Wrayburn and Bradley Headstone are both very poor specimens of manhood, and Lizzie deserves better.

Still, I suppose it's better than Silas Wegg, or Rogue Riderhood, and Dickens isn't past matching beautiful honourable young girls with avaricious and revolting old crocks, (such as Madeline Bray's apparent destiny in Nicholas Nickleby). What a novel that would make!

Ami wrote: "An Anniversary Occasion
All of a sudden, or has this been in the making...Mrs. Lammle's conscience surfacing? ."

And what's going to happen to her when Mr. Lammle and Fledgeby find out.

Halfway through the novel, and so far I still haven't seen a coherent plot, just a series of interlacing interactions among a large group of characters.

It's been so long since I first read the book that I have no memory at all of what happens. So can pose what I consider some unresolved questions for those who don't know the work the speculate on if they wish.

Will Lizzie marry, and if so who?
Will Eugene turn out to be a good guy or a bad guy, and if good, what will turn him that way?
Will Bella marry, and if so who?
Will John Harmon really disappear, or will Rokesmith change his mind and reveal his true self, perhaps because Boffin will be so corrupted by his money that Rokesmith will, for Mrs. Boffin's sake, take back most of the money and "cure" Boffin of his greed?
Will we find out what happens to Charlie, or will he drift off into obscurity now that he has cast off his sister and so is not needed in the story any more?

I am mildly interested in some of these questions. Not to the point that I look forward eagerly to reading on, but enough that I will soldier on for the sake of the good sharing and insights going on here.

But that this is considered by some his best novel still completely baffles me.

Everyman wrote: "Halfway through the novel, and so far I still haven't seen a coherent plot, just a series of interlacing interactions among a large group of characters.

It's been so long since I first read the bo..."

Everyman

Yes, I agree with you. Could it be we have become so accustomed to the more predictable novel arc and ending that when Dickens does offer up something fresh we balk at it? I think back to GE where Dickens's original intention was to leave the hero and heroine unattached or chastened individuals. Only the urging of friends (and perhaps the paying public) made him write the second semi-resolved and more hopeful ending.

Perhaps he just thought enough was enough and here's something new.

Peter wrote: "Everyman wrote: "Halfway through the novel, and so far I still haven't seen a coherent plot, just a series of interlacing interactions among a large group of characters..."

I'm much of the same mind. It reminds me of his beginnings, and The Pickwick Papers, in its feelings of linked episodes. But then each episode seems to be more developed, and part of a much greater whole. I'm wondering if this discursiveness is more in keeping with 18th century literature, and the authors whom Dickens himself admired, but don't know novels from that period well enough. I know some here do, so what do you think? Is he indeed "trying something new", but attempting to employ his novelist's skills, which he has honed, to develop the literature from his youth, which he loved? He had begin to be ill when starting this one, so did he have a vague premonition that he may not have much time left to write as he wished? Or is this all too fanciful?

I'm of the opinion that what came naturally to Dickens was the episodic format.

He developed it in Sketches, found great success in it with Pickwick, and perhaps given this book came near the end of his career, felt a harkening back to what seemed his natural strength -- that particular format.

In the biographies I've read, OMF was one of his greatest challenges "to let it out" based on his age, what had happened in his life, and his health. The episodic format played to a natural strength and thereby he built upon that to write and complete one of his more difficult works.

A much more succinct way of putting what I was fumbling towards, thanks John :)

Jean wrote: "Peter wrote: "Everyman wrote: "Halfway through the novel, and so far I still haven't seen a coherent plot, just a series of interlacing interactions among a large group of characters..."

I'm much ..."

Hi John and Jean

Yes. I think Dickens wanted a change in his writing style. Why, I guess, is the big question.

It could have been the need for a new challenge, or even to find a way to accomodate his failing health, or perhaps the residue of his split with Catherine Dickens and his new life with Ellen Ternan that put him into a different mindset. We know that he was with Helen during the writing of OMF because of the Staplehurst train disaster. Dare we say he was bored and simply wanted new personal and literary horizons and challenges? And, of course, the financial angle that is always present.

What I believe is that GE was a departure from his earlier, more predictable endings and that George Silverman's Explanation and The Mystery of Edwin Drood, both which came after OMF, were departures from his earlier writing style and focus. Why is the big question.

It's at times like these that I wish we could be at the Fellowship Porters and enjoy an evening of discussion.

Indeed! And thanks for the forward-looking angle Peter - I've never read George Silverman's Explanation. Perhaps as a finished work, that will reveal more of an answer than his last novel? This novel is raising so many more questions than I remember from earlier ones at this stage.

Jean wrote: "Indeed! And thanks for the forward-looking angle Peter - I've never read George Silverman's Explanation. Perhaps as a finished work, that will reveal more of an answer than his last ..."

Hi Jean

George Silverman's Explanation was one of our mini-reads a while ago so I felt I could mention it. A rather somber, depressing little read. Not the best of Dickens to be sure and he wrote it for an American publication for £ 1000.00. Interesting that it was published in the US before England.

I certainly agree with you about the many questions that OMF is presenting us with.

Peter wrote: "Jean wrote: "Peter wrote: "Everyman wrote: "Halfway through the novel, and so far I still haven't seen a coherent plot, just a series of interlacing interactions among a large group of characters....."

That's very interesting. From what I've read of some biographies, Dickens was worried that he was slowing up. The creative output that he had felt in earlier years may not have been the same to him. It is also possible he was worrying about nothing, just natural anxiety over matters of creativity.

Peter wrote: "She is also, and I also see these qualities as both positive and remarkable, a person who has pride ( she will not do what another person such as Headstone or her brother wants, or demands, as many of Dickens's faint-of-heart young ladies would) she has fortitude in that I can see her standing up to further verbal/physical assaults from others, and she has self-worth. I do not see Lizzie, in any way, egotistical. I do see her as a young lady who values her own person, her own values, and her own aspirations. Overall, a major step forward in Dickens's portrayals of young female characters."

I missed this thread for a long time, and have just discovered it. Yesterday I wrote in another discussion that as Dickens' heroines go, I quite like Bella and Lizzie, though I couldn't quite put my finger on why Lizzie doesn't irritate me the way some others have. But now Peter has put his finger right on it! You've managed to sum up the feelings I couldn't quite get a grasp on. Thanks!

Ami wrote: "An Anniversary Occasion
All of a sudden, or has this been in the making...Mrs. Lammle's conscience surfacing? Although I loved the interaction between Twemlow and her, again, I felt as if this was ..."

I think what we, as readers, are missing in this novel is the character development. We see characters change, but Dickens doesn't really walk us through how or why. Mrs. Lammle changes -- my assumption is that she's actually grown close to Georgiana, and feels guilty for trying to dupe her into an unhappy marriage, but I can't know that for sure. You may have other theories. Same with another person in a later chapter. (view spoiler)[ (Boffin) (hide spoiler)]

So the question is, is Dickens just being lazy in his storytelling, by jumping ahead and not addressing the metamorphoses, or is there another reason for approaching it this way? Perhaps he's just giving his readers the benefit of the doubt and letting them put two and two together, but I have a theory it's something else. I hope I'll remember to address this again when future revelations are made and the time comes in the plot to do so. :-)

Peter wrote: "I've enjoyed the Twemlow "flip." Any hairstyle of such magnitude needs a name, don't you think?.."

Hahaha! I didn't notice Twemlow's hair in that drawing until you pointed it out - what a riot! It looks kind of like what they call a "faux hawk" - held up with gel (or raw egg?) instead of actually shaved on the sides like a mohawk. We can't use "flip" -- that's already taken to describe a woman's bob that is curled out on the bottom (those of a certain age, think of Marlo Thomas in the early "That Girl" episodes).

Twemlow and his hair are quickly becoming two of my favorite characters in this novel.

Mary Lou wrote: "Ami wrote: "An Anniversary Occasion
All of a sudden, or has this been in the making...Mrs. Lammle's conscience surfacing? Although I loved the interaction between Twemlow and her, again, I felt as ..."

Hi Mary Lou

I too remain somewhat perplexed in Dickens's style in OMF. Earlier there has been some speculation but I'm sure we will discuss it at length at the end of the novel. With both of us thinking we should discuss style, one of us will surely remember.

Thanks also for the correction on Twemlow's hair style. My hair falls (literally) under the definition of thinning. :-))

Peter - "I see Wrayburn as the successor to Sydney Carton. Both contain potential, both are in love with a woman, but both are unable to step off the stage upon which they are playing out their lives and assume the role that could possibly win the woman they love."

Yes, I like this interpretation of his character, and will attempt to see him in this rather more kindly light than I have hitherto. Poor misguided would-be creator of his own doomed destiny :)

Mary Lou wrote: "I think what we, as readers, are missing in this novel is the character development. We see characters change, but Dickens doesn't really walk us through how or why. ."

That puts a finger on something that has been bothering me also. Why, as you point out, does Mrs. Lammle have this about face? It's never explained. Why does Charley turn on his sister so severely? Okay, so she doesn't want to marry his friend, but why call her a bad sister for that and claim that it disgraces him. I don't think it's justified by anything I've seen in the text.

Jean wrote: "Is this really so different from the "heroic" Mr Darcy of Pride and Prejudice's first disastrous proposal of marriage? The only difference perhaps is that Mr Darcy had had the advantage of a good education and stable family background, so that he knew how to control his feelings better!..."

I, too, thought that Bradley must be a graduate of the Darcy School for Romance. Their proposals were so similar! To be honest, though, I think I would have been more touched by Bradley's. Even though he was claiming ruination as a result of his feelings, he at least expressed remorse for expressing himself in such a negative fashion. Some of the things he said were rather romantic, actually, such as when he tells her that she draws him to her, that he would break through the wall of a prison for her, that he would rise from his sickbed to fall at her feet. Of course, having these romantic ideas flung at you in a graveyard in the dead of night by a dangerously distraught young man whom you are not at all attracted to kind of takes the romance out of them, I suppose.

I don't dislike Bradley; I feel sorry for him. I think he's a decent enough person, but I think his decision to keep his passions repressed makes him an emotional powder keg, and he also seems to be one of those socially awkward people who is constantly doing and saying the wrong things. Even when he is right about a situation, such as that Eugene is his rival for Lizzie, he goes about it completely wrong and starts talking trash about Eugene to whomever will listen. This backfires and only serves to make Bradley seem even more strange and makes his audience start sidling toward the door!

I haven't read this book before and have no idea how it turns out, but I also can't help but like Eugene. I was much struck by your observation, Linda, about his presentation as an actor playing a part as he leaves Lizzie and Mr. Riah. I must bow to Peter's superior knowledge of the book, but Eugene's musing about "Lightwood's catechism" at that moment would make me believe that he's playing a deeper game that involves more than just his feelings for Lizzie.