The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Mr. Squeers

ThomasOnwhyn

Thomas Onwhyn / 'Peter Palette'

This illustration is by Thomas Onwhyn, signed under his pseudonym Peter Palette. The artist used this name for his etchings in an unauthorized edition of this work.

Text Illustrated:

‘Come back, Mr. Nickleby, do!’ cried Miss Price, affecting alarm at her friend’s threat, but really actuated by a malicious wish to hear what Nicholas would say; ‘come back, Mr. Nickleby!’

Mr. Nickleby came back, and looked as confused as might be, as he inquired whether the ladies had any commands for him.

‘Don’t stop to talk,’ urged Miss Price, hastily; ‘but support her on the other side. How do you feel now, dear?’

‘Better,’ sighed Miss Squeers, laying a beaver bonnet of a reddish brown with a green veil attached, on Mr. Nickleby’s shoulder. ‘This foolish faintness!’

‘Don’t call it foolish, dear,’ said Miss Price: her bright eye dancing with merriment as she saw the perplexity of Nicholas; ‘you have no reason to be ashamed of it. It’s those who are too proud to come round again, without all this to-do, that ought to be ashamed.’

‘You are resolved to fix it upon me, I see,’ said Nicholas, smiling, ‘although I told you, last night, it was not my fault.’

‘There; he says it was not his fault, my dear,’ remarked the wicked Miss Price. ‘Perhaps you were too jealous, or too hasty with him? He says it was not his fault. You hear; I think that’s apology enough.’

‘You will not understand me,’ said Nicholas. ‘Pray dispense with this jesting, for I have no time, and really no inclination, to be the subject or promoter of mirth just now.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Miss Price, affecting amazement.

‘Don’t ask him, ‘Tilda,’ cried Miss Squeers; ‘I forgive him.’

‘Dear me,’ said Nicholas, as the brown bonnet went down on his shoulder again, ‘this is more serious than I supposed. Allow me! Will you have the goodness to hear me speak?’

Here he raised up the brown bonnet, and regarding with most unfeigned astonishment a look of tender reproach from Miss Squeers, shrunk back a few paces to be out of the reach of the fair burden, and went on to say:

‘I am very sorry—truly and sincerely sorry—for having been the cause of any difference among you, last night. I reproach myself, most bitterly, for having been so unfortunate as to cause the dissension that occurred, although I did so, I assure you, most unwittingly and heedlessly.’

‘Well; that’s not all you have got to say surely,’ exclaimed Miss Price as Nicholas paused.

‘I fear there is something more,’ stammered Nicholas with a half-smile, and looking towards Miss Squeers, ‘it is a most awkward thing to say—but—the very mention of such a supposition makes one look like a puppy—still—may I ask if that lady supposes that I entertain any—in short, does she think that I am in love with her?’

‘Delightful embarrassment,’ thought Miss Squeers, ‘I have brought him to it, at last. Answer for me, dear,’ she whispered to her friend.

‘Does she think so?’ rejoined Miss Price; ‘of course she does.’

‘She does!’ exclaimed Nicholas with such energy of utterance as might have been, for the moment, mistaken for rapture.

I don't know the artist.

Text Illustrated:

Mrs. Squeers, being out of breath with her exertions, complied. Squeers caught the boy firmly in his grip; one desperate cut had fallen on his body—he was wincing from the lash and uttering a scream of pain—it was raised again, and again about to fall—when Nicholas Nickleby, suddenly starting up, cried ‘Stop!’ in a voice that made the rafters ring.

‘Who cried stop?’ said Squeers, turning savagely round.

‘I,’ said Nicholas, stepping forward. ‘This must not go on.’

‘Must not go on!’ cried Squeers, almost in a shriek.

‘No!’ thundered Nicholas.

Aghast and stupefied by the boldness of the interference, Squeers released his hold of Smike, and, falling back a pace or two, gazed upon Nicholas with looks that were positively frightful.

‘I say must not,’ repeated Nicholas, nothing daunted; ‘shall not. I will prevent it.’

Squeers continued to gaze upon him, with his eyes starting out of his head; but astonishment had actually, for the moment, bereft him of speech.

‘You have disregarded all my quiet interference in the miserable lad’s behalf,’ said Nicholas; ‘you have returned no answer to the letter in which I begged forgiveness for him, and offered to be responsible that he would remain quietly here. Don’t blame me for this public interference. You have brought it upon yourself; not I.’

‘Sit down, beggar!’ screamed Squeers, almost beside himself with rage, and seizing Smike as he spoke.

John Browdie

Kyd (of course)

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing a quick recovery to Whackford Squeers' legs so that he may soon take pen in hand again. "

Yes, I really, really liked that little detail!

Mary Lou wrote: "Ralph read this letter. Did it cause him to question Squeers' abilities, and therefore, his honesty and ethics? Hmm....."

Hmmm, Ralph might probably see a connection between the lack of writing abilites and honesty, wouldn't he? Because in Ralph's universe, honesty would surely be put down to stupidity, and in that case, the letter may not be one of recommendation for the Squeerses in Ralph's eyes.

Kim wrote: "I couldn't have said it better. "

Oh Kim, I am sure you could if you only tried hard enough ;-)

Kim wrote: "This letter beginning "Respected Sir" was an answer to a little boy (Master Hastings Hughes), who had written to him as "Nicholas Nickleby" approached completion, stating his views and wishes as to..."

That is such a wonderful letter. Imagine a writer like Dickens, with all his instalments waiting for him to complete them, taking his time to answer the letter of a child. Three cheers to the Inimitable!

Kim wrote: "'I meant to have written you a long letter, but I cannot write very fast when I like the person I am writing to, because that makes me think about them, and I like you, and so I tell you..'"

That's lovely.

Oh wow, can I say how happy I was that Nicholas's anger towards Mr. Squeers boiled over to the point of him lashing out at him? I know it's not good to condone violence, but if there was ever a time or place, this was it. I was so taken aback that Nicholas acted in this way, it caught me by surprise. Also, I thought that we would spend more time at the Squeers school before Nicholas left, but I'm glad that he has left that wretched place.

It was nice to spend some time with Newman Noggs. Count me in on his fan club!

The Kenwigs scene was perhaps a little drawn out for me, but contrasted with spending time with Squeers, I would much prefer the Kenwigs.

My favorite bit with the Kenwigs was this scene because I could relate only too well the sudden emotion that comes at times when looking upon your children:


Mr. Lillyvick being stationed in a large armchair by the fireside, and the four little Kenwigses disposed on a small form in front of the company with their flaxen tails towards them, and their faces to the fire; an arrangement which was no sooner perfected, than Mrs. Kenwigs was overpowered by the feelings of a mother, and fell upon the left shoulder of Mr. Kenwigs dissolved in tears.

‘They are so beautiful!’ said Mrs. Kenwigs, sobbing.

‘Oh, dear,’ said all the ladies, ‘so they are! it’s very natural you should feel proud of that; but don’t give way, don’t.’

‘I can—not help it, and it don’t signify,’ sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs; ‘oh! they’re too beautiful to live, much too beautiful!’

On hearing this alarming presentiment of their being doomed to an early death in the flower of their infancy, all four little girls raised a hideous cry, and burying their heads in their mother’s lap simultaneously, screamed until the eight flaxen tails vibrated again; Mrs. Kenwigs meanwhile clasping them alternately to her bosom, with attitudes expressive of distraction, which Miss Petowker herself might have copied.

This my first time reading this and I'm enjoying it very much. It's been awhile since I read a new Dickens and I am so glad I found this group. I am loving the discussion and the wonderful insights. And as always, the Dickens characters are wonderful and the comments on the illustrations are great.

Bobbie wrote: "This my first time reading this and I'm enjoying it very much. It's been awhile since I read a new Dickens and I am so glad I found this group. I am loving the discussion and the wonderful insights..."

I'm glad you are enjoying this group! Feel free to recommend us ;-)

I just found this:



MRS. KENWIGS AND THE FOUR LITTLE KENWIGSES

Chapter 14

Jessie Willcox Smith

1912

"Oh! they're too beautiful to live, much too beautiful!" sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs. On hearing this alarming presentiment . . . all four little girls raised a hideous cry, and burying their heads in their mother's lap simultaneously, screamed until the eight flaxen tails vibrated again."

Kim wrote: "I just found this:



MRS. KENWIGS AND THE FOUR LITTLE KENWIGSES

Chapter 14

Jessie Willcox Smith

1912

"Oh! they're too beautiful to live, much too beautiful!" sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs. On hearing t..."

Kim, that is so horrible and so perfect.

I've always been fond of Jessie Willcox Smith's illustrations. They're a lot different than most of those we see here, and she focused on children usually. I doubt she ever took on Bill Sikes or Squeers!

I've only ever seen her paintings of Dickens children, if she painted any adults I haven't come across them. Here are the children:

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32372...

What do you think of this? I am puzzled.





It says:

Nicholas Nickleby Collector Plate, 1981, by Konrad Hack from the Series The Remarkable World of Charles Dickens, Wedgwood of Etruria.

If that is Squeers and Nicholas, what they are wearing is beyond me.

Kim wrote: "What do you think of this? I am puzzled.



It says:

Nicholas Nickleby Collector Plate, 1981, by Konrad Hack from the Series The Remarkable World of Charles Dickens, Wedgwood of Etruria.

If that..."

Kim

Oh, my. First we had a Kyd and now we have a Hack. The many dimensions and reach of Dickens. Could he have come up with better names himself?

But how can those two be Squeers and Nicholas? Maybe, incognito?

Kim wrote: "I just found this:



MRS. KENWIGS AND THE FOUR LITTLE KENWIGSES

Chapter 14

Jessie Willcox Smith

1912

"Oh! they're too beautiful to live, much too beautiful!" sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs. On hearing t..."

The people in the picture are extremely well-dressed, and the place - as far as one can judge from the background - does not look half the shambles that Dickens makes the Kenwigs' house out to be. JWS surely has a good heart and allowed the Kenwigses to climb a lot on the social ladder.

Tristram wrote: "But how can those two be Squeers and Nicholas? Maybe, incognito?"

I can't imagine. The artist wasn't picturing the same Squeers and Nicholas I am.

Probably, our way of picturing most Dickens characters is invariably influenced by those wonderful Phiz illustrations. Phiz's figures are out-and-out Dickens for me, and that's why I find it so much harder to picture Pip or Silas Weggs than Squeers or Paul Dombey.

Yes. Three cheers for Phiz.

"Wretch," rejoined Nicholas, fiercely, "Touch him at your peril!"

Chapter 13

Charles Edmund Brock

1931

Text Illustrated:

Mrs. Squeers, being out of breath with her exertions, complied. Squeers caught the boy firmly in his grip; one desperate cut had fallen on his body—he was wincing from the lash and uttering a scream of pain—it was raised again, and again about to fall—when Nicholas Nickleby, suddenly starting up, cried ‘Stop!’ in a voice that made the rafters ring.

‘Who cried stop?’ said Squeers, turning savagely round.

‘I,’ said Nicholas, stepping forward. ‘This must not go on.’

‘Must not go on!’ cried Squeers, almost in a shriek.

‘No!’ thundered Nicholas.

Aghast and stupefied by the boldness of the interference, Squeers released his hold of Smike, and, falling back a pace or two, gazed upon Nicholas with looks that were positively frightful.

‘I say must not,’ repeated Nicholas, nothing daunted; ‘shall not. I will prevent it.’

Squeers continued to gaze upon him, with his eyes starting out of his head; but astonishment had actually, for the moment, bereft him of speech.

‘You have disregarded all my quiet interference in the miserable lad’s behalf,’ said Nicholas; ‘you have returned no answer to the letter in which I begged forgiveness for him, and offered to be responsible that he would remain quietly here. Don’t blame me for this public interference. You have brought it upon yourself; not I.’

‘Sit down, beggar!’ screamed Squeers, almost beside himself with rage, and seizing Smike as he spoke.

‘Wretch,’ rejoined Nicholas, fiercely, ‘touch him at your peril! I will not stand by, and see it done. My blood is up, and I have the strength of ten such men as you. Look to yourself, for by Heaven I will not spare you, if you drive me on!’

‘Stand back,’ cried Squeers, brandishing his weapon.

‘I have a long series of insults to avenge,’ said Nicholas, flushed with passion; ‘and my indignation is aggravated by the dastardly cruelties practised on helpless infancy in this foul den. Have a care; for if you do raise the devil within me, the consequences shall fall heavily upon your own head!’

The four little girls clasped their uncle's drab shorts in their arms.

Chapter 15

Charles Edmund Brock

1931

Text Illustrated:

‘I am very sorry, sir,’ said Mr. Kenwigs, humbly.

‘Don’t tell me you’re sorry,’ retorted Mr. Lillyvick, with much sharpness. ‘You should have prevented it, then.’

The company were quite paralysed by this domestic crash. The back-parlour sat with her mouth wide open, staring vacantly at the collector, in a stupor of dismay; the other guests were scarcely less overpowered by the great man’s irritation. Mr. Kenwigs, not being skilful in such matters, only fanned the flame in attempting to extinguish it.

‘I didn’t think of it, I am sure, sir,’ said that gentleman. ‘I didn’t suppose that such a little thing as a glass of punch would have put you out of temper.’

‘Out of temper! What the devil do you mean by that piece of impertinence, Mr. Kenwigs?’ said the collector. ‘Morleena, child—give me my hat.’

‘Oh, you’re not going, Mr. Lillyvick, sir,’ interposed Miss Petowker, with her most bewitching smile.

But still Mr. Lillyvick, regardless of the siren, cried obdurately, ‘Morleena, my hat!’ upon the fourth repetition of which demand, Mrs Kenwigs sunk back in her chair, with a cry that might have softened a water-butt, not to say a water-collector; while the four little girls (privately instructed to that effect) clasped their uncle’s drab shorts in their arms, and prayed him, in imperfect English, to remain.

‘Why should I stop here, my dears?’ said Mr. Lillyvick; ‘I’m not wanted here.’

Is it sacrilege to say that I enjoy these more than the busy pen and ink drawings of Phiz and others? I love the chubby Wackford, Jr. In the background of the first illustration. :-)

Kim wrote: ""Wretch," rejoined Nicholas, fiercely, "Touch him at your peril!"

Chapter 13

Charles Edmund Brock

1931

Text Illustrated:

Mrs. Squeers, being out of breath with her exertions, complied. Squeers..."

This is how I imagine Smike to look. To me, a great illustration.