This novella is pure Thackeray mischief: part social satire, part mock-memoir, part comedic roast of Victorian greed and glitter. Samuel Titmarsh is the kind of narrator who takes himself far more seriously than anyone should—which makes him the perfect puppet for Thackeray’s humour.
At the centre of the story sits the Hoggarty Diamond, a gaudy, oversized, ostentatious piece of jewellery that embodies everything ridiculous about middle-class dreams of grandeur. As Samuel narrates his misadventures with this dazzling curse of a gem, Thackeray skewers social climbing, office politics, financial scams, and the fragile egos of people who believe proximity to wealth equals importance.
What makes the story stand out is the contrast between Samuel’s earnestness and the narrator’s sly irony. Thackeray keeps winking at readers over Samuel’s head, turning even ordinary moments into comic set pieces. The novella also foreshadows Vanity Fair with its fascination for vanity, illusion, and the follies of ambition.
It’s brisk, funny, and wonderfully constructed — proof that Thackeray didn’t need 900 pages to deliver a knockout commentary on society. Sometimes all he needed was a shiny, ridiculous diamond and one very gullible man.