Every so often I mention in a review that this or that writer is one of those I can't forget long enough to enjoy the story. Sometimes the problem is affected diction or a literary style I find more distracting than innovative or lovely. Other times it's a teacherly stance the author takes and I feel that I'm sitting in a lecture hall instead of in the corner of my ugly, late 90's, blue plaid sofa, tucked up with what I had hoped was a good novel.

So, why do I love Dickens? "There's a wisdom of the head and a wisdom of the heart," he says, and shows me which kind he has by taking a seat next to me on the sofa. As if we're going to find out together if that nasty lawyer Tulkinghorn will get what he deserves.