The Pickwick Club discussion

Dear Pickwickians,

how time flies! David Copperfield is nearly finished as a group read, and the first few chapters are still so vivid to me that I cannot believe we started in March! However, I don’t know about you but for me Chapter 47 just dragged on and on and on until I could not help thinking that Dickens just stretched it out in order to have enough material – or words – to fill his 16th instalment. Nothing really happens here except that David and Mr. Peggotty meet again and they trace down Martha and ask her help in finding Emily.

We have some melodrama, like here, with the typical suggestions that fallen women have the proclivity to consuming large quantities of stale water:

”'Oh, the river!' she cried passionately. 'Oh, the river!'
'Hush, hush!' said I. 'Calm yourself.'
But she still repeated the same words, continually exclaiming, 'Oh, the river!' over and over again.
'I know it's like me!' she exclaimed. 'I know that I belong to it. I know that it's the natural company of such as I am! It comes from country places, where there was once no harm in it—and it creeps through the dismal streets, defiled and miserable—and it goes away, like my life, to a great sea, that is always troubled—and I feel that I must go with it!' I have never known what despair was, except in the tone of those words.
'I can't keep away from it. I can't forget it. It haunts me day and night. It's the only thing in all the world that I am fit for, or that's fit for me. Oh, the dreadful river!'“

And we have lots of words, and this chapter – I have to admit it and hope you are not going to label me as an inveterate cynic or a disciple of GRUMP – was the first time in the novel I felt tempted to just skim several passages and turn leaves over before I finished the page. Not only did I feel tempted to do so but I also gave in to that temptation. Probably I should write a less subjective summary but I can’t remember anything particular about that Chapter – so if someone wants to rush to its defense and give a proper summary, they are more than welcome to it.

Chapter 48, which is entitled „Domestic“ gives us further insight into David’s not quite satisfactory household matters. It begins with a little remark on how an author feels when his work is praised, and I think that it is Dickens himself who is talking here and who was quite aware of his merits as a writer – so much so that he arose the grudge of some of his contemporaries, like Trollope:

”I was not stunned by the praise which sounded in my ears, notwithstanding that I was keenly alive to it, and thought better of my own performance, I have little doubt, than anybody else did. It has always been in my observation of human nature, that a man who has any good reason to believe in himself never flourishes himself before the faces of other people in order that they may believe in him. For this reason, I retained my modesty in very self-respect; and the more praise I got, the more I tried to deserve.”

This seems like a man who is so much convinced of himself that he does not even deign to blow his own whistle, whereas he would not overstress his show of modesty. The narrator goes on like this:

”Having some foundation for believing, by this time, that nature and accident had made me an author, I pursued my vocation with confidence. Without such assurance I should certainly have left it alone, and bestowed my energy on some other endeavour. I should have tried to find out what nature and accident really had made me, and to be that, and nothing else.”

I find these words quite puzzling because to me they seem to imply that had David not met with (immediate?) success as a writer, he would have left off writing and turned to another field of action – and maybe this is even true of Dickens himself, who hit the public nerve with his first novel and who shaped the following novels closely to what he regarded as the public’s wishes – e.g. by introducing the America episodes into Martin Chuzzlewit when he noticed a waning interest in his novel. I have always thought that an author would feel in himself a calling regardless of what the public may think about his outpourings and that in the worst case he would write for the drawer (as the German phrase goes), with a view to posterity. Here, however, David/Dickens seems to regard the calling – “nature” – as no more powerful an incentive to writing than “accident”, i.e. the reception of his novels by the public.

After these remarks on his successes as an author, David gives a humorous description of some further mishaps that befall their household, and after the plodding preceding chapter I welcomed the comic relief here even though I was appalled to learn that the page was going to be deported for stealing a gold watch, which shows how strict the law was at that time. David’s remonstrance that they must take a more serious outlook on housekeeping because it was not only themselves they were harming but also others by encouraging them to take illegal advantage of them – an interesting thought, by the way –, is met by poor Dora in her usual way, i.e. turning a matter-of-fact argument into an invective against herself – as if she had stolen the watch or told fibs – and so David tries to counter Dora’s childishness with increased seriousness and matter-of-factness. Even Shakespeare is used as a means of educating Dora, but to no avail. Finally it occurs to David

”that perhaps Dora’s mind was already formed.”

So he decides to put a good face on the matter and to humour Dora exactly the way she is. He does not seem to be enchanted by her playful ways any longer, though, but to have resigned himself to them:

”The old unhappy feeling pervaded my life. It was deepened, if it were changed at all; but it was as undefined as ever, and addressed me like a strain of sorrowful music faintly heard in the night. I loved my wife dearly, and I was happy; but the happiness I had vaguely anticipated, once, was not the happiness I enjoyed, and there was always something wanting. In fulfilment of the compact I have made with myself, to reflect my mind on this paper, I again examine it, closely, and bring its secrets to the light. What I missed, I still regarded—I always regarded—as something that had been a dream of my youthful fancy; that was incapable of realization; that I was now discovering to be so, with some natural pain, as all men did. But that it would have been better for me if my wife could have helped me more, and shared the many thoughts in which I had no partner; and that this might have been; I knew.
Between these two irreconcilable conclusions: the one, that what I felt was general and unavoidable; the other, that it was particular to me, and might have been different: I balanced curiously, with no distinct sense of their opposition to each other. When I thought of the airy dreams of youth that are incapable of realization, I thought of the better state preceding manhood that I had outgrown; and then the contented days with Agnes, in the dear old house, arose before me, like spectres of the dead, that might have some renewal in another world, but never more could be reanimated here.”

It’s also quite interesting that he mentions Agnes and her companionship in this context, and he even speculates on what his life would have been like if he had never met Dora. He remembers Annie’s words about the prerequisite of a happy marriage and his resigned conclusion is:

”It remained for me to adapt myself to Dora; to share with her what I could, and be happy; to bear on my own shoulders what I must, and be happy still. This was the discipline to which I tried to bring my heart, when I began to think. It made my second year much happier than my first; and, what was better still, made Dora's life all sunshine.”

However, there seems to be the shadow of death falling on the couple: Not only is Jip becoming rather long in the tooth, but also Dora is growing feebler after a miscarriage.

The following chapter, „I Am Involved in a Mystery“, brings back the Micawbers into focus and already hints at the end of one of the plot strands. David receives a lengthy letter from Mr. Micawber in which Micawber asks him for a meeting. At the same time, Mrs. Micawber writes to Traddles, asking him for help since her husbands behaviour has changed for the worse. At that point I asked myself why David, on the receipt of a similar letter from Mrs. Micawber, has not reacted but David quickly solves this question by adding that at the time he received Mrs. Micawber’s letter he did not take it very seriously.

Mr. Micawber and David and Traddles finally meet, and during their mysterious conversation Micawber implies that he has found out about Uriah Heep’s villainous plots and that it will not be long before he is going to have enough proof to expose Uriah. At this point I was asking myself another question, which the narrator failed to answer: Why would a cunning, devious, secretive blackguard like Uriah Heep, a master-manipulator, make the mistake of letting any other person in on his business transactions? He must surely have anticipated the danger of such a person gathering information that he should better keep to himself. So – why would Uriah lower his guard to such an extent? And then to such a one as Mr. Micawber, whose reliability in business matters must have appeared very small to Uriah?

As the title of the chapter implies – „Mr. Peggotty’s Dream Comes True” –, Chapter 50, too, is one large step towards the resolution of some of the conflicts dealt with in the novel: Here, Martha finally helps re-unite Emily and her uncle. Emily has finally taken refuge in Martha’s humble abode, and Martha has secretly informed David and Mr. Peggotty about this state of affairs. David and Martha rush to Martha’s home, in order to find Miss Dartle in front of them on the staircase and enter into Martha’s room, where Emily has hidden. Miss Dartle has got her knowledge of Emily’s whereabouts through Littimer, and now her desire is to gloat upon the fallen woman and to torture her with her invectives. She also threatens Emily by saying that unless she flees into some obscure corner of the world or openly lives in her quality as a fallen woman, Miss Dartle will mercilessly expose her to her neighbours.

David and Martha are listening to how Miss Dartle derides her female rival and how she transports herself into such a rage that she nearly attacks Emily, who breaks down before her, imploring her for sympathy and mercy. What I could not understand here is that David chose to listen and wait for Mr. Peggotty’s arrival on the scene rather than interfere and throw Miss Dartle out of the room. After all, this violent and passionate woman not only tortures Emily with words but there is also the danger of her getting physically rough. David says that he feels that Mr. Peggotty should be the first person to meet Emily, but there might also be his fear of setting Miss Dartle to carry out her threat if he throws her out of the house. Yet there is a lot of passivity in David, not only in this situation but also in another one: How can he bear the thought of leaving Agnes to the machinations of somebody like Uriah Heep for – is it months, is it years? – without putting a stop to the situation? Questions, questions, questions …

Finally Mr. Peggotty’s footsteps are heard outside, and Miss Dartle hurriedly takes her leave. The chapter closes with Mr. Peggotty holding Emily in his arms – and with me thinking about the limitations of the first-person-narration.

Tristram wrote: "Dear Pickwickians,

how time flies! David Copperfield is nearly finished as a group read, and the first few chapters are still so vivid to me that I cannot believe we started in March! However, I d..."

Tristram

While you are neither a cynic nor a grump, I must respectfully disagree with you.

"Nothing really happens." Well, you did mention melodrama, and who is better than Dickens in full flight writing melodrama? Even if he does go "over the top" what a wonderful top it is. I thought the night scene, the tracking of Martha, the sensation as we move through the foul streets of London and the phrasing of the details were all grand. Who could not enjoy an atmospheric line as "decomposed into that nightmare condition." Dickens comments on Martha as a person who "writhed" "stiffen[ed] and twist[ed]" because her movements are from "insupportable recollections." I have no sympathy for the writhings and twisting of Uriah Heep, but I do believe Dickens wants the reader to have sympathy for the world of deprivation that Martha has endured.

We see David's tenderness towards Martha when "he put her shawl carefully about her." Here again, Dickens draws a very clear distinction between the revulsion that David feels as he does not want to be close to the motions of Uriah Heep to David's sincere desire to be kind and comforting towards the similar motions of Martha.

I think this chapter also functions as a very clear parallel to Ch. 50 where Dickens once again has David and Peggotty out at night, this time not in pursuit of Martha, but in pursuit with Martha as they finally find Little Em'ly.

These two chapters work in tandem to heighten the drama of the discovery of Emily, strengthen the bonds among Peggotty, David and Martha and prepare us for further links and bonds that will emerge because of the events of the two separate nights.

While I am happy that Micawber is fed up with Uriah Heep, I hope no one sees me as a grump. I confess to finding Mr. Micawber rather tedious. I don't find him amusing either. In fact, I don't get why he is seen as one of Dickens's signature creations. The only times I have been tempted, and the only times I have skimmed paragraphs or sections of DC, have occurred whenever Micawber has appeared on the page.

Ah, I feel better having made that confession.

Kim wrote: "

Mr. Peggotty's dream comes true

Chapter 50

"Mas'r Davy," he said, in a low tremulous voice, when it was covered, "I thank my Heav'nly Father as my dream's come true! I thank him hearty for hav..."

Kim

Thank you, once again, for the illustrations. Phiz has become, to me at least, an integral part of our weekly discussions and commentaries.

Chapter 50 delivers another wonderful example of Dickens's writing style. First we have the continual building of Peggotty's saintly character. We read that Peggotty "must do his own part faithfully." Dickens also uses the word "steadfast" to describe Peggotty. That word is similar to the word "Steerforth" and yet how strikingly different those two men are.

Dickens continues to evolve and develop symbolism through yet another reference to leaves. While David awaits news from Peggotty and Micawber "[the] leaves were thick upon the trees, and heavy with wet."

As the pursuit of Emily grows intense and draws itself to Martha's lodging Dickens comments on how the "once fair dwellings in the occupation of single families ...[have] long degenerated into poor lodgings." The once grand house where Emily huddles has only "tokens of past grandeur" and is now "miserably decayed and dirty." The lodging reflects its inhabitants. Both Martha and Emily, through circumstance and fate, like the house, have become altered and worn out. Dickens comments that there were "some common pictures of ships upon the walls" and Phiz also puts the ship in his illustration. Kim's commentary gives us further insight into the illustration.

Emily, who fled by way of the sea, has now returned from the sea. As readers, we would do well to keep the previous mentions of ships by Dickens and the illustrations by Phiz In mind. I feel we are not yet finished with the sea and ships.

Did anyone else get a little flashback to Jane Eyre? The mysterious top floor in a home, the ravings and actions of a deranged and angry woman over a lost lover/husband, the young, innocent, duped girl desired by a less-than-honest admirer? In Jane Eyre, Rochester continually refers to Jane in terms of a fairy. In DC, Rosa calls Emily a "fairy spirit." I don't mean to compare Emily to Jane, but there does seem to be some interesting points of comparison at times.

Kim wrote: "Peter wrote: "Thank you, once again, for the illustrations. Phiz has become, to me at least, an integral part of our weekly discussions and commentaries."

In my ever interesting search for Dicken..."

Your continuing search for illustrations has just uncovered another gem, another way of depicting what happened to Emily, the moment she realizes that she must end her time with Steerforth.

This painting by Hunt contains much symbolism. From the glove that lies on the floor, to the white dress of the woman, to the languid pose of the man not playing the piano (their relationship now no longer being engaged) to the reflection of the woman's back by the window, this painting is very reminiscent of Emily's "awakening conscience" as well.

It was interesting to note in Phiz's illustrations that Martha was depicted as wearing a dark dress when rescued by David and Peggotty. In contrast, Emily was depicted as wearing a white dress, as the lady does in the Hunt picture. One generally thinks of "fallen women" as being depicted as wearing bright, even gaudy clothes.

The colour white plays an important role in the novels and art of the mid 19c. Wilkie Collins famous novel The Woman In White comes to mind. Whistler's "white series" of paintings also comes from this time period.

As we read through Dickens many rabbit holes appear. It is a treat to fall down them and see what wonderlands we find. Thank you for all your insights.

Peter wrote: "While you are neither a cynic nor a grump, I must respectfully disagree with you.

"Nothing really happens." Well, you did mention melodrama, and who is better than Dickens in full flight writing melodrama? Even if he does go "over the top" what a wonderful top it is. I thought the night scene, the tracking of Martha, the sensation as we move through the foul streets of London and the phrasing of the details were all grand. Who could not enjoy an atmospheric line as "decomposed into that nightmare condition." Dickens comments on Martha as a person who "writhed" "stiffen[ed] and twist[ed]" because her movements are from "insupportable recollections." I have no sympathy for the writhings and twisting of Uriah Heep, but I do believe Dickens wants the reader to have sympathy for the world of deprivation that Martha has endured."

Peter,

as Jonathan wrote somewhere in this group, "Disagreement is the breeding grounds for growth" - and while we both seem to agree that Dickens is such a good writer that even melodramatic scenes in his books are often gripping to read - just think of Bill Sikes's flight into the country -, Chapter 47 was too exaggerated in many ways to my taste. In the first place, I have difficulty accepting Martha as an integral character in the story: She suddenly appeared in the middle of the novel and she never really played an important role; I have the impression that she is just a plot device that came into Dickens's mind later on when he was trying to figure out how he might solve the Emily quest. Of course, her story foreshadows Emily's fall, and it also serves to show the attitudes of "respectable people" towards "fallen women" - even Mr. Peggotty would look down his nose at Martha at the beginning - and so there is ample justification for Martha as a character in the story. And yet, to me she seemed to be some kind of patching-up device.

As to Chapter 47, the urge to drown herself and all the surroundings ... I don't know, all that was so full of pathos that I felt rather inclined to be annoyed at this instance of what I regard as message-mongering - but, as I said, I still can see your point.

As to Mr. Micawber, I actually enjoy his rambling prose and grandiloquence, especially from the point of view of a foreign language speaker, who marvels at Micawber's periods and use of bathos. I would not regard him as one of Dickens's most comic creations but he was still one of the things I remembered most vividly from my first reading of the novel, which had taken place more than 20 years ago.

Kim wrote: "

Mr. Peggotty's dream comes true

Chapter 50

"Mas'r Davy," he said, in a low tremulous voice, when it was covered, "I thank my Heav'nly Father as my dream's come true! I thank him hearty for hav..."

Thanks again for your information on the illustrations, Kim! One of the things I like best about writers is if they take a lot of care to make their texts deep and rich in detail, and with regard to Phiz, one can say, that he is a worthy match of Dickens as to detail, meaning and depth!

Peter wrote: "I thought the night scene, the tracking of Martha, the sensation as we move through the foul streets of London and the phrasing of the details were all grand. Who could not enjoy an atmospheric line as "decomposed into that nightmare condition."..."

I agree with you here, Peter, in that the atmosphere created in these passages was impressive, despite the melodrama. Similar to the illustration's commentary (thank you, Kim), for me it also recalled Trotty's vision of his daughter's contemplation of suicide in The Chimes. While Martha doesn't have a baby, the dismal place she chooses gives an awful sense of her despair, and of being discarded. And the detail about the mass grave from the Plague, leaves me with the impression that she represents countless hopeless women over centuries.

I was a bit surprised by the end of Chapter 47, especially if this confrontation between Aunt Betsey and her husband is the last, and Dickens is tying this thread up. My suspicion that her husband was able to extort money from her, because she didn't have a choice, legally, was off... (She seems confidant she could have easily gotten a separation, since he was so "cruel" to her.) Not sure how this fits in with her earlier fear of him, but it turns out she's been giving him money "for the sake of what I once believed him to be." So she's been soft-hearted all along :)

Tristram wrote: "Peter wrote: "While you are neither a cynic nor a grump, I must respectfully disagree with you.

"Nothing really happens." Well, you did mention melodrama, and who is better than Dickens in full fl..."

Tristram

There is so much in Dickens, and so many ways to approach each chapter, that it is a wonder we scratch the surface at all. I really enjoy all the points of view. At the conclusion of the novel I am especially looking forward to hearing everyone's view on the use of the first person narrator.

Tristram wrote: "for me Chapter 47 just dragged on and on and on.........I felt tempted to just skim several passages and turn leaves over before I finished the page. Not only did I feel tempted to do so but I also gave in to that temptation.

Tristram, I felt the same way about Chapter 47 concerning Martha and also Chapter 49 concerning the Micawbers. Actually, I have found the Micawber story a bit boring throughout the entire book, and then this last chapter about them I just about skimmed. I was completely puzzled by what they were trying to convey in their letters to David and Traddles, and was relieved to find out that David and Traddles had the same puzzlement.

I find these words quite puzzling because to me they seem to imply that had David not met with (immediate?) success as a writer, he would have left off writing and turned to another field of action.....I have always thought that an author would feel in himself a calling regardless of what the public may think about his outpourings...

I was also surprised by this, Tristram. I had been under the impression that David wrote because it was a creative outlet for him, or that it was a relaxing pastime, and the success of his writing and the potential to bring in income was a bonus.

However, there seems to be the shadow of death falling on the couple: Not only is Jip becoming rather long in the tooth, but also Dora is growing feebler after a miscarriage.

Oh. I somehow missed that she had had a miscarriage. I'll have to go back and review this section. I was confused as to what could be ailing her.

What I could not understand here is that David chose to listen and wait for Mr. Peggotty’s arrival on the scene rather than interfere and throw Miss Dartle out of the room.

I wondered at this too. I think Mr. Peggoty would have not minded if David had jumped in to save Emily from the humiliation that Miss Dartle was putting her through.

Peter wrote: "I hope no one sees me as a grump. I confess to finding Mr. Micawber rather tedious. I don't find him amusing either. In fact, I don't get why he is seen as one of Dickens's signature creations."

Peter, I'm glad I am not the only one who feels this way. So, if you are seen as a grump, then so am I. Every time the Micawbers enter the scene, I find myself wondering at the snippet on the back of my book that declares that Mr. Micawber is "one of literature's great comic creations".

Kim wrote: "The River

Chapter 47"

Thank you for the illustrations, Kim. They fit nicely with one of my marked passages that I liked:

"...the ground was cumbered with rusty iron monsters of steam-boilers, wheels, cranks, pipes, furnaces, paddles, anchors, diving-bells, windmill-sails, and I know not what strange objects, accumulated by some speculator, and grovelling in the dust, underneath which - having sunk into the soil of their own weight in wet weather - they had the appearance of vainly trying to hide themselves."

Peter wrote: "Did anyone else get a little flashback to Jane Eyre? The mysterious top floor in a home, the ravings and actions of a deranged and angry woman over a lost lover/husband, the young, innocent, duped girl desired by a less-than-honest admirer? In Jane Eyre, Rochester continually refers to Jane in terms of a fairy. In DC, Rosa calls Emily a "fairy spirit.""

It's been a few years since I've read Jane Eyre, but now that you mention it I can see the similarities you point out, Peter. And I had forgotten that Rochester refers to Jane as a fairy.

Vanessa wrote: "I was a bit surprised by the end of Chapter 47, especially if this confrontation between Aunt Betsey and her husband is the last, and Dickens is tying this thread up."

I was surprised as well, Vanessa, mostly because I had forgotten about Aunt Betsey's unknown visitor. When it turned out to be her husband, I wondered how I had not guessed that it could have been him in the first place.

Linda wrote: "Vanessa wrote: "I was a bit surprised by the end of Chapter 47, especially if this confrontation between Aunt Betsey and her husband is the last, and Dickens is tying this thread up."

I was surpri..."

Linda

It was good to read your posts. With Everyman nursing his back and not posting much The Victoria connection of Vanessa and myself were starting to feel lonely : -)

Peter wrote: "It was good to read your posts. With Everyman nursing his back and not posting much The Victoria connection of Vanessa and myself were starting to feel lonely : -) "

Thank you, Peter. I'm sorry I have not been consistent in my DC posts. Springtime brings on more responsibilities outside the house, along with year end school-related and other activities the kids are involved in. But with only 3 weeks left in DC, I'm determined to be more active.

Peter wrote: "While I am happy that Micawber is fed up with Uriah Heep, I hope no one sees me as a grump. I confess to finding Mr. Micawber rather tedious. I don't find him amusing either. In fact, I don't get..."

I could really never see you as a grump Peter, even if you tried your best at grumpiness certain people are so very good at it not one of the rest of us could ever hope to catch up to either of them. :-)

Tristram wrote: "I have to admit it and hope you are not going to label me as an inveterate cynic or a disciple of GRUMP –"

Grump. :-)

Tristram wrote: "What I could not understand here is that David chose to listen and wait for Mr. Peggotty’s arrival on the scene rather than interfere and throw Miss Dartle out of the room."

I could not understand this either, and his reason made no sense. Why would you just stand and listen to someone treating a person you care about - or a person you don't care about for that matter - that way and do nothing?

"For this reason, I retained my modesty in very self-respect..."

As for when David is telling us how modest he is it reminded me of the verse in the Bible (Numbers 12:3) where Moses says:

"Now the man Moses was very humble, more than any man who was on the face of the earth."

And it was Moses who wrote that book. I've always been a little puzzled by that.

The great variety of illustrations attest to the popularity of Dickens and the different ways artists have taken the written word and turned those words into images.

We all read Dickens in our own unique ways, and highlight our own impressions in differing visual patterns.

Great detective work Kim.

Tristram wrote: "Chapter 48... I find these words quite puzzling because to me they seem to imply that had David not met with (immediate?) success as a writer, he would have left off writing and turned to another field of action – and maybe this is even true of Dickens himself, who hit the public nerve with his first novel and who shaped the following novels closely to what he regarded as the public’s wishes..."

If Dickens is writing about himself here, I have a hard time believing him. How can he know what he might have done, if he hadn't met with quick success -- would he really have given up so easily?

Oddly, the 'nature vs. nurture' debate also came to mind when David attempts unsuccessfully to form Dora's character. Interesting twist that David is the more pliable of the two.

Linda wrote: "Tristram wrote: "However, there seems to be the shadow of death falling on the couple: Not only is Jip becoming rather long in the tooth, but also Dora is growing feebler after a miscarriage.

Oh. I somehow missed that she had had a miscarriage. I'll have to go back and review this section. I was confused as to what could be ailing her."

I nearly missed this too, Linda, it was so sanitized in an airy way, when the 'spirit... took wing'.

Peter wrote: "There is so much in Dickens, and so many ways to approach each chapter, that it is a wonder we scratch the surface at all. I really enjoy all the points of view. At the conclusion of the novel I am especially looking forward to hearing everyone's view on the use of the first person narrator. "

I am sure that there will be a lively discussion. As far as I am concerned I see some weak points in the first person narrator, but also one strength - notice how I'm building up suspense for our final discussion on the book? ;-)

Linda wrote: "Peter wrote: "Did anyone else get a little flashback to Jane Eyre? The mysterious top floor in a home, the ravings and actions of a deranged and angry woman over a lost lover/husband, the young, in..."

Would it be a good idea to put Jane Eyre on my to-be-read-list?

Kim wrote: "Tristram wrote: "I have to admit it and hope you are not going to label me as an inveterate cynic or a disciple of GRUMP –"

Grump. :-)"

Oh you should hear me in the morning before I had my first cup of coffee! That is grumpiness in its purest form.

Kim wrote: "Here's what Fred Barnard thought of Martha in Chapter 47:

"Oh, the river!" she cried passionately. "Oh, the river!" "

Is there another woman in the background?

Vanessa wrote: "Linda wrote: "Tristram wrote: "However, there seems to be the shadow of death falling on the couple: Not only is Jip becoming rather long in the tooth, but also Dora is growing feebler after a misc..."

I think there is indeed only the following short passage in Chapter 48 hinting at the miscarriage:

"I had hoped that lighter hands than mine would help to mould her character, and that a baby-smile upon her breast might change my child-wife to a woman. It was not to be. The spirit fluttered for a moment on the threshold of its little prison, and, unconscious of captivity, took wing."

Maybe David as the narrator remains so vague here because it must have been a doubly traumatic experience to him not only to have lost his first child but also to find his wife not able to recover after childbirth.

Linda wrote: "'What I could not understand here is that David chose to listen and wait for Mr. Peggotty’s arrival on the scene rather than interfere and throw Miss Dartle out of the room.'

I wondered at this too. I think Mr. Peggoty would have not minded if David had jumped in to save Emily from the humiliation that Miss Dartle was putting her through. "


Although we might leave the discussion on the first person narration aside for later on, I hope I will not seem rash in saying that in my eyes Chapter 50 suffers in various ways from the first person perspective: The author clearly needs this final (?) clash between Emily and Rosa Dartle for dramatic reasons since Rosa has always regarded Emily with inveterate hatred as her rival. In this clash, he can show us how forbearing and modest and pure Emily is - by the way, she has not lost any of her beauty, unlike Martha, to the chagrin of Rosa - and how wickedly revengeful Miss Dartle is on the other hand. In real life these two rivals would probably never have met but an author like Dickens, with his penchant for drama, could not have withstood the temptation of bringing them together - since that was also what readers might have expected.

The only problem was that the story is told by the first person narrator David, who has to be on the scene - and so the author has to overcome three difficulties, which he does but awkwardly:

1) He has to introduce the strange coincidence that Miss Dartle would visit Emily at the very evening when David would be led there by Martha. Okay, since it was probably the first evening of Emily being there, this coincidence is not too out-of-the-way.

2) He has to consider that David was eavesdropping and could not see what was going on. This limitation to the spoken word would have impaired the dramatic effect - so that in the course of the conversation the characters conveniently move to positions in which they can at least partly be seen by the narrator. How good of them to do this!

3) The author had to live with the contradiction that Emily's childhood swain David would witness how Miss Dartle tortures and abuses Emily without interfering. Had he interfered, Miss Dartle could not have shown herself in all her vengeful spite, and we would have been disappointed. The decision not to interfere, however, would have made the narrator seem callous. Therefore the author makes the narrator come up with the strange feeling that it is not for him but for Mr. Peggotty to be the first one to meet Emily. Now that is not very convincing to me.

I think that the awkwardness clinging to Chapter 50 is directly due to the first person point of view.

Yes. The first person narrative does contain shortcomings. If David had interfered with Rosa's rant then her venom most likely would have been directly onto David, at least for a short period of time. The confrontation between the manic Rosa and the innocent Emily needed to be direct and completely focussed.

Tristram wrote: "Linda wrote: "Peter wrote: "Did anyone else get a little flashback to Jane Eyre? The mysterious top floor in a home, the ravings and actions of a deranged and angry woman over a lost lover/husband,..."

For what it's worth, I think Jane Eyre is one of best novels I have ever read. It contains layers upon layers of style, technique and motifs. Charlotte Bronte's other novels, to my mind, do not even come close to Jane Eyre. Her sisters' novels, yes even Wuthering Heights, are well in the shade of Jane Eyre as well.

Kim wrote: "

Mr. Peggotty's dream comes true

Chapter 50

"Although published in early August, this scene was radically re-written at the end of July, giving the illustrator little time to make the necessary adjustments since Rosa Dartle was originally in the scene and David accompanied by Mr. Peggotty. As the scene now stands, Rosa has just departed and Mr. Peggotty has just arrived, with David as the first-person narrator hidden with Martha throughout."

I just finished this chapter, and agree that the first-person narration is problematic, especially as it puts David in such an unfavourable light for witnessing the scene without taking action. Perhaps Dickens' original version was better! If I understand Rosa, her diatribe includes trying to goad Emily into suicide. Considering that David just intervened with Martha, and that Rosa loses physical control of herself, I just can't believe he could justify doing nothing and putting Emily at risk.

I am also puzzled by Rosa's character. I no longer understand her motivation, when we met her, for extracting Steerforth's views on the working class. I thought she was sarcastically exposing his superiority and lack of compassion. Now her views on these "traders" appear worse than his. Is the implication that her obsession has somehow reversed her? This also doesn't feel plausible to me.

Tristram wrote: "Kim wrote: "Here's what Fred Barnard thought of Martha in Chapter 47:

"Oh, the river!" she cried passionately. "Oh, the river!" "

Is there another woman in the background?"

It looks that way to me. Accumulated misery...

Kim wrote: ""Now the man Moses was very humble, more than any man who was on the face of the earth."

And it was Moses who wrote that book. I've always been a little puzzled by that. "

That is very funny :)

Tristram wrote: "He has to consider that David was eavesdropping and could not see what was going on. This limitation to the spoken word would have impaired the dramatic effect - so that in the course of the conversation the characters conveniently move to positions in which they can at least partly be seen by the narrator. How good of them to do this!

Had he interfered, Miss Dartle could not have shown herself in all her vengeful spite, and we would have been disappointed. The decision not to interfere, however, would have made the narrator seem callous. Therefore the author makes the narrator come up with the strange feeling that it is not for him but for Mr. Peggotty to be the first one to meet Emily. Now that is not very convincing to me."

Very convincing arguments of why the first person narrative can be limiting, Tristram. I had not thought of these points while reading, only that I could only shake my head at David for not interfering.

I chuckled at your "how good of them to do this!" comment. :)

Vanessa wrote: "I nearly missed this too, Linda, it was so sanitized in an airy way, when the 'spirit... took wing'."

Vanessa and Tristram, thank you for pointing out this passage. I went back and reread it, now I can see how all the little clues add up to a lost baby.

Tristram wrote: "Kim wrote: "Here's what Fred Barnard thought of Martha in Chapter 47:

"Oh, the river!" she cried passionately. "Oh, the river!" "

Is there another woman in the background?"

I'm not sure, it looks like one to me but so far I haven't been able to find any commentary on it or any one of those people who seem to see all kinds of things in the illustrations, whether they are there or not.

Kim wrote: "Is there another woman in the background?"

I'm not sure, it looks like one to me but so far I haven't been able to find any commentary on it or any one of those people who seem to see all kinds of things in the illustrations, whether they are there or not. "

I don't think it's another person. I can see how it might look like one at first glance, but I think it's just piled up junk and what looks like could be a woman's long hair, is probably just some fishing net draped over the junk, or something like that.

Linda wrote: "Tristram wrote: "He has to consider that David was eavesdropping and could not see what was going on. This limitation to the spoken word would have impaired the dramatic effect - so that in the cou..."

Thanks for chuckling, Linda ;-) This scene in fact reminded me of the German author Karl May, who was very prolific in the 19th century as a writer of adventure stories set in the Wild West or the Middle East. In most of his stories, the hero Old Shatterhand would sneak up on the villains around their campfire to eavesdrop on them and find out about their plans. Old Shatterhand had to do this because he was the first person narrator in most of the stories, so unless he knew what was going on the readers wouldn't know, either. Old Shatterhand would take his time sneaking up on the villains to avoid the slightes noise but whenever he had settled in a position from which to overhear the baddies, these would invariably start talking about their plans, probably to oblige the invisible listener. Old Shatterhand would never come in the middle of a powwow but his enemies would always start discussing their plans as soon as he had arrived, which was all the more surprising since they all knew very well what they were going to do. Their only purpose in talking about their plans was to fill in the reader and the protagonist without knowing it.

I loved these books when I was 12 or 13 but even at that tender age I couldn't help wondering at the hero's serendipity - and the author's lack of imagination.

Tristram wrote: " This scene in fact reminded me of the German author Karl May, who was very prolific in the 19th century as a writer of adventure stories set in the Wild West or the Middle East."

Now I have to go and find this guy.

Tristram wrote: "Old Shatterhand had to do this because he was the first person narrator in most of the stories, so unless he knew what was going on the readers wouldn't know, either.....Old Shatterhand would never come in the middle of a powwow but his enemies would always start discussing their plans as soon as he had arrived"

How very considerate of Old Shatterhand's enemies! lol. That's pretty funny, Tristram. I'll have to look this guy up as well.

Peter wrote: "While I am happy that Micawber is fed up with Uriah Heep, I hope no one sees me as a grump. I confess to finding Mr. Micawber rather tedious. I don't find him amusing either. In fact, I don't get..."

Peter wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Dear Pickwickians,

how time flies! David Copperfield is nearly finished as a group read, and the first few chapters are still so vivid to me that I cannot believe we started in Ma..."

Peter wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Dear Pickwickians,

how time flies! David Copperfield is nearly finished as a group read, and the first few chapters are still so vivid to me that I cannot believe we started in Ma..."

Tedious chapters...Yes. I didn't find it so much these chapters weren't full of happenings, but more so happenings that seem to "drag" on...Dora's health spiraling down slowly, Mr. Micawber's cyclical cycle in life of high hopes and failed attempts? Dora's miscarriage, her weak little body, the loss of mobility in her legs, it keeps getting worse...Put this poor child out of her misery already? It's so painful to read about and David's reflection of this time period is absolutely heartbreaking. However, not to sound callous, David seems to have realized Dora is not fulfilling his soul as a married couple. There is nothing worse than surrounding yourself with people who make you feel like you're still alone. Although they are a couple and not physically alone, he is in this type of relationship. He dearly loves her, I know, but I can't help to think Dora's sickness is a blessing in disguise...An occurrence in his life where he will grow and no longer feel held back, a real turning point-At least this is what I would want for him.

Although these chapters are real gems to read, I did feel slightly disengaged with the storylines Dickens chose to expand upon at this point in the novel. I would like to see Steerforth back in to mix of characters. :)

I have no sympathy for the writhings and twisting of Uriah Heep, but I do believe Dickens wants the reader to have sympathy for the world of deprivation that Martha has endured.
Uriah, it seems, may be coming to the end of his rope, at least I hope this is the case? To your (Paul) point about Martha..I agree with your statement about Dickens intentions towards her character. I thought her remark comparing herself to the Thames river is a great parallel to how both flow clean at the start and end up dirty. We all begin life in the purest form not knowing where the ebbs and flows will bring us. Despite her lot in life, her intentions were always good.

Mr. Micawber
I too am not entertained by this man any more. In fact, I'm bored of his fantastical superfluous speeches, passionate diatribe, and long winded letters at the end of most of his chapters! LoL. I want some closure for this cat...Immediately! :) I too hope you do not see me as a grump either. While this post may reflect a slight disinterest in the narrative, currently, I am drawn to reading this novel...I keep coming back to it like bees to purple flowers, and I attribute it to Dickens' writing style as many of you have already mentioned. So, slow deaths and monotonous Micawber aside, this novel is still "damn" good!

Yes. Regardless of my personal soft spots in DC I think it is a masterful novel. It's funny how each reading brings new highlights (and lowlights) to my reading experience.

Peter wrote: "Yes. Regardless of my personal soft spots in DC I think it is a masterful novel. It's funny how each reading brings new highlights (and lowlights) to my reading experience."

It's my first reading, Peter...I'm sure each reading would bring new highs and lows. There's one question that's been gnawing at me since we started reading "DC", and I think it was Everyman who posted about it...The unreliable narrator argument? I want to wait and answer the question after reading the novel in its entirety, but you, having read it more than once, do you find DC any less or more reliable during the different times you've read it?

Ami wrote: "Peter wrote: "Yes. Regardless of my personal soft spots in DC I think it is a masterful novel. It's funny how each reading brings new highlights (and lowlights) to my reading experience."

It's m..."

Ami

The reliability of the narrator has been gently hovering over many posts as we have read through the novel. I, for one, do have more/final comments to make as I'm sure many Pickwickians do. Would you mind if I hold off answering your question fully now? Soon we will be at the end of the novel and then we can open the floodgates for all to comment with the benefit of having completed the novel. I'm sure Tristram and Kim will give us lots of time to reflect back on the novel and all its parts.

Peter wrote: "Ami wrote: "Peter wrote: "Yes. Regardless of my personal soft spots in DC I think it is a masterful novel. It's funny how each reading brings new highlights (and lowlights) to my reading experien..."

No, of course not.. That is just fine :)