I approached Mr. Dickens,he rose (like the Victorian gentleman he was), and I introduced myself.  I noticed that he was holding a small notebook in his left hand into which he had hurriedly stuck a pen.  He asked if I would like to join him, and I had to remind myself not to get giddy and giggle when I accepted the uncomfortable terminal chair next to his.  I told him that I had recently taken a class on some of his lesser read works and that the most recent thing I read was his original Sketches by Boz.  He laughed heartily and informed me that that particular collection was written from moments just like this one.   I asked him how he was able to be so very specific and vivid in his descriptions of characters like those presented in his “Thoughts about People.” He chuckled and pointed to the small notebook in his other hand and then pointed to a young woman seated alone across the way.  He began to weave a story about where she had come from and where she was going.  He noted her dress, accessories, and the things she carried with her.  He pointed out the pin she was wearing on her lapel, a gold star with a box across the middle. He told me that she was a “gold star wife,” the wife of a Marine killed in action, and he began to tell her story.  She had cleaned out the little house she and her husband had on base and that she was headed back home to be with her parents until she figured out what her next step would be.  She and her husband had not had children.  They were waiting until he picked up his next rank and could be a little more financially stable.  This was a regret she would carry with her for the rest of her life.  Returning to her parents’ home as a twenty-five year old widow had never been part of her plan.  This was to have been her husband’s last tour in Iraq, and his next post was to be in intelligence (a nice safe job stateside).  In an additional twist of fate, she found herself sitting alone in the Dallas airport on what would have been her husband’s thirtieth birthday.  He continued to spin his tale of this young widow, and I found myself in tears before he was done.  I was incredibly moved by her story, whether it was fact, fiction, or a combination of both. 

He spun tale after tale for me of the travelers who passed us as we sat in the airport.   Mr. Dickens drew my attention to a young man and began to tell me his story.  This young man was an up and coming banker on his way to a meeting where he would face a choice – maintain his integrity or break a slew of SEC laws and make a ton of money.  He pointed out the three-year-old being dragged by his exhausted father through the airport in a rush to catch the flight which would return the miserable child to his mother who lived in Miami.  I could have sat in that airport forever with this remarkable man and his incredible understanding of human nature and his skills of observation, but Time waits for no one and my flight was finally called. 

I rose, picked up my carry-on, and told Mr. Dickens how much I appreciated his time.  I took few steps and then remembered that my classmates would never forgive me if I didn’t find out how Edwin Drood ended.  I turned back around to ask him who the murderer was… and he was gone.  In the seat he had occupied, there was nothing but the Red Sox cap, the sunglasses, and a beautiful ring – diamonds and rubies in the shape of a rose.

While Dickens isn’t kind to the Mob as a character and does not excuse its behavior in any way, he does offer an explanation as to why so many people became involved in something so tainted.  Dickens’ Mob is made “for the most part of the very scum and refuse of London, whose growth was fostered by bad criminal laws, bad prison regulations, and the worse conceivable police.”  The London of 1780 had many of the same problems that Dickens’ London faced – poverty, corruption, and discontent.  The lower classes had less and less power and less and less influence; this inevitably leads to frustration and ultimately violence.  Dickens does not absolve the individuals for their involvement, but he does explain why so many would join a cause they knew nothing about.

Dickens doesn’t just use the Mob as a character; he uses individual characters to embody the individual elements found within most conflicts.

• George Gordon – a true believer, blinded by his devotion to a cause. 
• Gashford – an opportunist without a scrap of loyalty to anyone or anything but himself; quick to use those around him and discard them when they are no longer of use.
• Joe Grueby – the voice of reason, frank and honest without a political or social agenda; these are few and far between in any uprising
• Barnaby Rudge – those who get caught up in something they don’t understand; these individuals are almost always the casualties of any cause
• Hugh and Dennis – blood thirsty, looking for a reason to do evil; these are the agitators who will join any cause if it provides them a reason to do damage

At the young age of 11, Ellen Woodman was ordered to do 7 days hard labour after being convicted of stealing iron

Crime was on the increase alongn with populations, wealth, and poverty.  The industrialization of England brought a great deal of success to many, but technology and populations grew much faster than regulations and management could keep up.  All too often, the casualties of society’s problems are children.  Many children found themsevles completely alone in the world for a variety of reasons and found themselves crushed under the wheels of Victorian justice. 

• Some parents fell into addiciton (alcohol or drugs) and were useless to their children.
• Parents were often in the justice system themselves and were either imprisoned or transported.
• Mothers were seperated from their children to prevent negative influence from a criminal parent.
• Brothers and sisters were seperated to prevent what was thought to be a natural inclination toward incest among the poor.
• Many paupers’ children ended up in workhouses surrounded by individuals suffering from mental illness, those dying from illness, and weeping of broken mothers. 

It is no surprise that many of the older children turned to a life of petty crime to try and survive.  They had no sense of right and wrong except what the streets and elder criminals taught them.  Some were taken in by “thief-trainers” like Fagin in Oliver Twist who fed and clothed them and taught them to be professional pickpockets. 

Punishment was swift and harsh.

Punishments were swift and harsh.  In 1814, five children under the age of fourteen were hanged at the Old Bailey.  One was a young man named William Potter who was hanged for ‘cutting down an orchard.’  Many other received months of hard labor for petty crimes.  George Davey, age ten, was sentenced to a month’s hard labor for stealing two tame rabbits.  Other found themselves in jail for stealing food and blankets.  One eight year old young man identified by his sleeve number, No. 6, was asked by he was imprisoned, “for not moving on, Sir”  was his answer.  Sounds like Joe in Bleak House, only No. 6 didn’t even have Tom-all-Alone’s.  No. 6 had no one and nothing. 

 While punishment was carried out promptly, trials were often delayed for weeks, and children (young girls and boys) sat in prison with the general population – a worthy group of characters I am sure.  Conditions were deplorable and dangerous.  Disease was rampant and abuse was common.  Not until 1820 were children imprisoned in seperate facilities. By 1851, things were looking better.  According to the census of that year, only twenty children under the age of ten were in British prisons; however, the numbers of older children (ten to fifteen) had rised.  England still had work to do. 

Bibliography

http://www.jubileecampaign.co.uk/child-prisoners-in-victorian-times-and-the-heroes-of-change

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-326545/Hard-times-child-convicts.html

I am also fascinated by the connections between Poe and Dickens.  I am an unapologetic Poe fan; I mean who doesn’t love the grisly and grotesque?  Not you, you say… you would never pay money to see a movie entitledThe Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  I will call you a liar!  You might not go see Saw XIV,but if there is a dead opossum on the side of the road on your way to work, you will examine it daily to see what has deteriorated, blown up, or otherwise altered in the aftermath of said opossum’s pavement poisoning.  We love it!  

Here is a link to an article about Dickens’ raven who later became Poe’s much more famous raven.  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2097090/The-raven-inspired-Edgar-Allan-Poes-haunting-poem-goes-display.html

Charley escapes a perfectly constructed opportunity for redemption.  My moment of hope for him is destroyed when Dickens reveals that Charley is not disturbed by the fact that his mentor has committed cold-blooded murder.  He is not disturbed by the fact that he almost sacrificed his sister to a man capable of committing cold-blooded murder.  He is bent out of shape due to the suggestion that Bradley Headstone’s committing cold-blooded murder in his deranged love for his sister might reflect poorly upon him!  I was totally disgusted that Charley’s only concern was that Headstone’s actions might corrupt his standing and attempts to rise in society.  I was furious when Charley ranted about refusing to be “dragged down by others.”  I want to take his scrawny shoulders and shake him.  He is worried about his sister dragging him down… REALLY!  This is the same sister who scraped together every cent she could find for him.  This is the same sister who ensured that he was educated to start with.  This is the same sister who endured the wrath of their drunken, abusive father when Gaffer became infuriated with Charley’s attempts to better himself.  Wait… maybe Gaffer had a point.  Charley’s attempts to better himself have turned him into the worst sort of man.  Is  really “better” for his education and the improvement of his station?  I think not.   It turns out that Charley is exactly the same sort as his father – selfish, egotistical, abusive, small-minded, and a failure as a man.  No matter how I hoped, Dickens refuses to let this apple fall far from the tree.

Surprises of the night…

1. I heard Esther’s narrative as a woman without ever questioning the fact that a man penned her words.
2. The fog was a sort of bleak house because it surrounded and clogged everything.
3. Dickens was much more miserable in his latter years that I had realized. 
4. Others swept through the ending as I did (and nobody knows what happened to Smallweed – miserable man that he was!)
5. Nobody really discussed the murderess or what prompted her to kill the lawyer.  I figured that would be a hot topic, but we all seemed to take that little portion of the story in stride.
6. Chris (ponderingdickens)  was responsible for all the blogs anybody mentioned… Oh, wait!  That’s not a surprise…

Anyway, there’s always lots of silliness and goofing off to accompany the serious work we do, and I for one, am glad to have been a part of it.

Thank you so much for including Mrs. Bucket in the solving of the murder mystery ofBleak House.  My grandmother used to say behind every successful man is a tired woman.  She worked as hard or harder than Detective Bucket to catch the killer!  She was judicious and careful, sincere and tenacious… I love that she was the key to catching a killer!

Thank you again.

Revisiting Dickens

To the Admirable Mr. Dickens,

I finished your latest novel, Bleak House, last night.  When I picked it up at around 8:00pm, I didn’t have the intention of finishing it.  However, once you left off of berating the court system, the upper classes, and society in general (as I asked you to do in my last letter – I’m sure your remember it) and reengaged the story and your characters, I found myself unable to put it down.  It turned out to be an excellent example of the balance between romance and realism so many writers seek. 

As per my last letter, I was quite frustrated with your diatribes that seemed to go on and on about the “bleak house” that was London; however, as I look back, I realize the fault was probably mine in my impatience to uncover the fates of your characters and clear up the remaining mysteries.

I see and appreciate your revealing society as a collection of bleak houses.  I love that the only setting which is NOT bleak is the home titled Bleak House.  Here there was happiness and peace. 

In the end, I was very pleased with the fates of most of your characters. While Richard’s death saddened me, I was fully prepared for it due to the parallels you drew between Richard and Gridley.  A life obsessed may only end one way, unhappily.  I was also terribly saddened by the fates of Lady Dedlock and Nemo (Hawdon), but I love that Lady Dedlock retreated to the cemetery where he lay to die herself – nicely done.  Leicester Dedlock certainly came down in the world – clearly as a result of his highhanded and antiquated ideas; however, the fact that George was able to find a place for himself (and Philip) brought me a great deal of joy.  After all, George was one of my favorite characters.

I am also happy with Ester’s marriage to Allan Woodcourt – it absolutely broke my heart when she burned the flowers that he had given her, and I’m not sorry she didn’t marry a man she continually referred to as her “guardian.”  Thank you for avoiding that uncomfortable and significantly icky ending. I was also thrilled to find that Detective Bucket was not the villain I had feared.  He was actually one of the good guys… you fooled me again.  (I also love that his wife was his trusty sidekick!)

The ending of the court case, Jarndyce and Jarndyce was also very fitting.  It reminded me of a children’s book that is one of my son’s favorites – Eric Carle’s The Greedy Python.  It is a story of a snake that gobbles up everything in sight and eventually bites his own tail and swallows himself… sounds like a Chancery Court case to me.

I very much appreciate your efforts to tie up loose ends when concluding your story, but I am left with several questions. 1) Does Jarndyce remain alone or is there some sort of connection forming between him and the elder Ms. Woodcourt? – I do hope so.  2) Does Mrs. Jellyby get a one way trip to her beloved Africa as I so hoped she would? 3) What happened to Grandfather Smallweed? Such a despicable character surely got his just desserts.

I have other concerns, but those are my most pressing.  If you could get back to me on these questions, I would be most grateful. 

Best Regards,

Samantha Vance

Recently I wrote a note of apology to you for having maligned some of your works based on my limited understanding.  I stand firmly by that apology but would like to express some additional thoughts to you about Bleak House.

One of the things that I love about Our Mutual Friend is that you deliver your social commentary without beating us over the head with it.  Even your rants about the Nuevo Riche are related to the plot.  You skillfylly tie your commentary into some details or at least use characters from the rest of the story.  In Bleak House,  you don’t even bother to make the commentary really relevent to any of the action.  

At this point, I have been bashed over the head with commentary on the Chancery Court until I am sick of it- okay, Mr. Dickens, I get that the legal system is a convoluted mess… you can move on.  I have been bashed over the head with the Doodle, Coodle, and Toodle and familial elements of the government – okay, Mr. Dickens, I get that the government is a convoluted mess… you can move on.  In addition, I don’t need to be continually reminded that this book is allegorical – as a matter of fact, the painted individual referred to as “Allegory” is overkill at best. 

I find myself “lightly reading” (I don’t dare say skimming due to Skimpole’s role) the parts which involve these long diatribes about the social system.  Is your personal life filled with events involving judicail or governmental interference?  That is the only explanation for this novel that is so full of vitriol that it makes an otherwise enjoyable and pleasant read turn into something tedious and distracting.

Mr. Dickens, please climb down off your high horse about the court and government systems and get back to the story…

Sincerely,

Samantha Vance

The Victorian Era saw a boom in philanthropic projects.  Here is a great article outlining some of the efforts at the time – http://www.philanthrocapitalism.net/bonus-chapters/victorian-giving/

Dickens himself was involved in several projects designed to help those in need; Urania Cottage is probably his most famous.  Dickens worked to help those in his “backyard” rather than spending his efforts helping those in distant lands.  Mr. Jarndyce is a great example of the kind of philanthropy that Dickens would have respected.  He has given of himself to help Esther, Ada and Richard, and now Charley and what’s left of her small family. I am not naïve enough to think that all these individuals aren’t somehow connected (I’m wise to Mr. Dickens’ tricks); however, there is a spirit of giving and sincerity represented here that is ENTIRELY missing in characters like Mrs. Jellyby.

Mrs. Jellyby’s family is falling down around her ears, and she is blindly devoted to some random cause in Africa which has nothing to do with benefiting her own family. Her own children are hungry and half-clothed; she has driven her husband into bankruptcy; and now, she has refused her blessing to her own child! She disgusts me, just as I think Dickens intends her to disgust me.  She is a shining example (one I am sure Mr. Dickens knew well) of an individual immersing himself in a distant cause when his own world could use his help.  London of the time was in desperate need of benefactors, much more so than distant causes which attracted a great deal of attention like cotton gins in Nigeria.      

There, of course, is Mrs. Pardiggle’s type of philanthropy which is so full of “moral determination” that it is brutal and demanding of those she seeks to help.  Mrs. Pardiggle dragged her own children (resentful and miserable) all over creation and exposed them to no telling what horrors; however, she never brought anything with her on her charity visits.  This is highlighted in her visit to the brick-maker’s cottage.  Pardiggle barges in and insinuates herself into the little house, but she offers them nothing tangible – only scolding and chiding remarks.  This contrasts sharply with Esther and Ada’s visit the following day during which they brought food for the family and comfort for the mother whose child was dead.  Esther and Ada, like their guardian, offer something tangible and useful in a time of crisis for those in need.

The characters of Bleak House are proving to be as telling as Dickens’ other characters.  I am beginning to enjoy it more and more… I just wish Dickens would stop introducing new characters and plot lines… we are half way through the book for pity’s sake!  Come on, Mr. D – give me a break!