The Pickwick Club discussion

Dear Pickwickians,

We are almost finished!! At this rate it will soon be time to decorate for Christmas. We have only one more installment after this one and David will be on his own without us to keep track of him. The first chapter in this installment, Chapter 54 is titled "Mr. Micawber's Transactions" and begins with David telling us of his grief on the death of Dora, but it seemd to me he talked much more about Agnes than he did Dora:

"When it was first proposed that I should go abroad, or how it came to be agreed among us that I was to seek the restoration of my peace in change and travel, I do not, even now, distinctly know. The spirit of Agnes so pervaded all we thought, and said, and did, in that time of sorrow, that I assume I may refer the project to her influence. But her influence was so quiet that I know no more.

And now, indeed, I began to think that in my old association of her with the stained-glass window in the church, a prophetic foreshadowing of what she would be to me, in the calamity that was to happen in the fullness of time, had found a way into my mind. In all that sorrow, from the moment, never to be forgotten, when she stood before me with her upraised hand, she was like a sacred presence in my lonely house. When the Angel of Death alighted there, my child-wife fell asleep—they told me so when I could bear to hear it—on her bosom, with a smile. From my swoon, I first awoke to a consciousness of her compassionate tears, her words of hope and peace, her gentle face bending down as from a purer region nearer Heaven, over my undisciplined heart, and softening its pain."

Whatever his reasons are for concentrating on Agnes, or perhaps I may be imagining anything odd in it, David does not appear to be going anywhere abroad or otherwise by the end of the chapter so I'm not sure why he mentioned it at all. He does say he must wait until after "the final pulverization of Heep" and until the emigrants leave, but I'm still not sure why he brought it up now.

Anyway, on to the Micawber's. Shortly after this Traddles, who has been at Mr. Wickfield's "labouring ever since our explosive meeting"asks David, Agnes and Aunt Betsey to come to Mr. Micawber's house for a meeting. When they arrive Mr. Micawber tells them the move to Australia may be exactly what his family needs, and he wants to be sure that he arranges the finances between him and Miss Betsey professionally.

'Madam, you do us a great deal of honour,' he rejoined. He then referred to a memorandum. 'With respect to the pecuniary assistance enabling us to launch our frail canoe on the ocean of enterprise, I have reconsidered that important business-point; and would beg to propose my notes of hand—drawn, it is needless to stipulate, on stamps of the amounts respectively required by the various Acts of Parliament applying to such securities—at eighteen, twenty-four, and thirty months. The proposition I originally submitted, was twelve, eighteen, and twenty-four; but I am apprehensive that such an arrangement might not allow sufficient time for the requisite amount of—Something—to turn up. We might not,' said Mr. Micawber, looking round the room as if it represented several hundred acres of highly cultivated land, 'on the first responsibility becoming due, have been successful in our harvest, or we might not have got our harvest in. Labour, I believe, is sometimes difficult to obtain in that portion of our colonial possessions where it will be our lot to combat with the teeming soil.'

'Arrange it in any way you please, sir,' said my aunt.

Mr. Micawber goes on to tell his visitors of all the preparations they have been making for their new lives in Australia:

"My eldest daughter attends at five every morning in a neighbouring establishment, to acquire the process—if process it may be called—of milking cows. My younger children are instructed to observe, as closely as circumstances will permit, the habits of the pigs and poultry maintained in the poorer parts of this city: a pursuit from which they have, on two occasions, been brought home, within an inch of being run over. I have myself directed some attention, during the past week, to the art of baking; and my son Wilkins has issued forth with a walking-stick and driven cattle, when permitted, by the rugged hirelings who had them in charge, to render any voluntary service in that direction—which I regret to say, for the credit of our nature, was not often; he being generally warned, with imprecations, to desist.' "

When the Micawber's leave the room David tells Traddles and Agnes that he is worried about his aunt:

'During the last fortnight, some new trouble has vexed her; and she has been in and out of London every day. Several times she has gone out early, and been absent until evening. Last night, Traddles, with this journey before her, it was almost midnight before she came home. You know what her consideration for others is. She will not tell me what has happened to distress her.'

My aunt, very pale, and with deep lines in her face, sat immovable until I had finished; when some stray tears found their way to her cheeks, and she put her hand on mine.

'It's nothing, Trot; it's nothing. There will be no more of it. You shall know by and by. Now Agnes, my dear, let us attend to these affairs.'

Traddles tells them that now that Uriah is gone Mr. Wickfield has improved, his memory and attention to business have improved so much that he has been able to assist in making certain things clear. Also that Mr. Micawber and Mr. Dick have been extremely helpful:

'I must do Mr. Micawber the justice to say,' Traddles began, 'that although he would appear not to have worked to any good account for himself, he is a most untiring man when he works for other people. I never saw such a fellow. If he always goes on in the same way, he must be, virtually, about two hundred years old, at present. The heat into which he has been continually putting himself; and the distracted and impetuous manner in which he has been diving, day and night, among papers and books; to say nothing of the immense number of letters he has written me between this house and Mr. Wickfield's, and often across the table when he has been sitting opposite, and might much more easily have spoken; is quite extraordinary.'

'Letters!' cried my aunt. 'I believe he dreams in letters!'

'There's Mr. Dick, too,' said Traddles, 'has been doing wonders! As soon as he was released from overlooking Uriah Heep, whom he kept in such charge as I never saw exceeded, he began to devote himself to Mr. Wickfield. And really his anxiety to be of use in the investigations we have been making, and his real usefulness in extracting, and copying, and fetching, and carrying, have been quite stimulating to us.'

'Dick is a very remarkable man,' exclaimed my aunt; 'and I always said he was. Trot, you know it.'

Traddles then explains that he went over the Wickfield accounts and found that most of Aunt Betsey's money would be returned, but he can't account for three thousand pounds. Aunt Betsey then explains that she had used those three thousand herself, one thousand for David's articles, the other two thousand pounds that she had withdrawn and kept by for a rainy day. Aunt Betsey informs David that she didn't tell him because she wanted to see if he could get along without her financial help and he came out nobly—"persevering, self-reliant, self-denying"!

Agnes decides she will rent out the house and run a school in order to keep herself and her father financially secure and Traddles tells them that Uriah and his mother went away by one of the London night coaches, and he knows no more about him.

The next morning Aunt Betsey asks David to go for a ride and she will tell him the reason she has been so troubled. They drive to a London hospital where a hearse is waiting with the body of her missing husband, he had died a few days before:

'You understand it now, Trot,' said my aunt. 'He is gone!'

'Did he die in the hospital?'

'Yes.'

She sat immovable beside me; but, again I saw the stray tears on her face.

'He was there once before,' said my aunt presently. 'He was ailing a long time—a shattered, broken man, these many years. When he knew his state in this last illness, he asked them to send for me. He was sorry then. Very sorry.'

'Six-and-thirty years ago, this day, my dear,' said my aunt, as we walked back to the chariot, 'I was married. God forgive us all!

I didn't understand why we needed Aunt Betsey's husband in the book in the first place. Why couldn't they just have had him disappeared in India or whatever the story was about him in the beginning? I don't understand what the point was to have him here at all.

Chapter 55 is titled "Tempest" and until I reached this chapter I had not given Steerforth a thought in quite a while. I'm not sure why but he never even entered my thoughts anymore. I think we could have reached the end of the book with Steerforth off in another country (probably Australia), or sailing, or whatever he is doing, and I wouldn't have thought anything of it. Dickens, however, didn't forget him and in this chapter we finish the story of Steerforth and Ham. The chapter begins with Mr. Peggoty coming to David with a letter from Emily to Ham telling him goodbye forever and David decides to deliver it to Ham in person. On his way to Yarmouth a terrible storm hits:

"....as the night advanced, the clouds closing in and densely over-spreading the whole sky, then very dark, it came on to blow, harder and harder. It still increased, until our horses could scarcely face the wind. Many times, in the dark part of the night (it was then late in September, when the nights were not short), the leaders turned about, or came to a dead stop; and we were often in serious apprehension that the coach would be blown over. Sweeping gusts of rain came up before this storm, like showers of steel; and, at those times, when there was any shelter of trees or lee walls to be got, we were fain to stop, in a sheer impossibility of continuing the struggle. "

Even though David tells us it is the worst storm he has ever seen - " great sheets of lead had been ripped off a high church-tower, and flung into a by-street, which they then blocked up, great trees were torn out of the earth" - even though it is the worst storm he has ever seen he still goes down to the beach to watch the waves.

"The tremendous sea itself, when I could find sufficient pause to look at it, in the agitation of the blinding wind, the flying stones and sand, and the awful noise, confounded me. As the high watery walls came rolling in, and, at their highest, tumbled into surf, they looked as if the least would engulf the town. As the receding wave swept back with a hoarse roar, it seemed to scoop out deep caves in the beach, as if its purpose were to undermine the earth."

It reminded me of those weather people on television who bring us reports of hurricanes and such things standing on beaches getting knocked over by the wind and rain and all the time I'm sitting there wondering why they couldn't tell us about the storm from inside a nice safe building. David returns to the inn - an extremely smart thing to do - and after a fitful night he is awakened by shouts from someone outside his door telling him that a ship 'A schooner, from Spain or Portugal, is wrecked down on the beach and will go to pieces at any moment.

He rushes to the scene like the rest of the crazy town and sees the schooner being battered to destruction by the wind and waves and David tells us that the rolling and beating are too tremendous for any man to survive long. One mast had been broken off and the sailors onboard are trying to cut that it away. As they watch several of the seamen are washed overboard to their death until only a single, curly-haired man remains alive on the foundering vessel. The men on the beach had tried to reach the wreck with a life boat but couldn't and now all they could do is watch. I found this strange:

"The wreck, even to my unpractised eye, was breaking up. I saw that she was parting in the middle, and that the life of the solitary man upon the mast hung by a thread. Still, he clung to it. He had a singular red cap on,—not like a sailor's cap, but of a finer colour; and as the few yielding planks between him and destruction rolled and bulged, and his anticipative death-knell rung, he was seen by all of us to wave it."

I just can't imagine how in a storm this bad the curly-haired man managed to keep his red cap on at all. Suddenly Ham appears out of nowhere and insists on going out into the water with a rope around his waist to try to save the last sailor. David attempts to restrain him, but Ham says:

'Mas'r Davy,' he said, cheerily grasping me by both hands, 'if my time is come, 'tis come. If 'tan't, I'll bide it. Lord above bless you, and bless all! Mates, make me ready! I'm a-going off!'

He has some men tie rope around him and he swims out to the wreck. Ham never makes it aboard, however, for a huge wave breaks up the ship. When they draw in the rope, Ham gets all the way out, but a gigantic wave sweeps the ship and Ham under and kills him. Ham's body is carried to a nearby house, and David stays there until a fisherman comes and tells him to look at the other body of the other man that has washed ashore. The chapter ends with this:

"And on that part of it where she and I had looked for shells, two children—on that part of it where some lighter fragments of the old boat, blown down last night, had been scattered by the wind—among the ruins of the home he had wronged—I saw him lying with his head upon his arm, as I had often seen him lie at school."

In Chapter 56, "The New Wound and The Old" David goes to Mrs. Steerforth to tell her that her that her son is dead. He finds that she never sees visitors anymore and "keeps to her room". She is an invalid and David finds her not in her room but in Steerforth’s room. Miss Dartle is present when David relays the news. She lashes out at Mrs. Steerforth, challenging her right to mourn her son, whom she made the monster he was, saying she should moan and groan for what she made him. Miss Dartle says she loved Steerforth and would have been devoted to him. Mrs. Steerforth becomes completely rigid and finally Miss Dartle begins to cry and tries to comfort Mrs. Steerforth, but she does not recover from the shock of learning of the death of her son.

"Later in the day, I returned, and we laid him in his mother's room. She was just the same, they told me; Miss Dartle never left her; doctors were in attendance, many things had been tried; but she lay like a statue, except for the low sound now and then.

I went through the dreary house, and darkened the windows. The windows of the chamber where he lay, I darkened last. I lifted up the leaden hand, and held it to my heart; and all the world seemed death and silence, broken only by his mother's moaning.

This chapter didn't really interest me and I don't have much to say about it. It just seemed to be there to wrap up the Steerforth story. I suppose Dickens had to have David tell Mrs. Steerforth of the death of her son or the Steerforth story wouldn't have been finished and Dickens usually finished all his little plots in a novel. You know, all the good people have good things, all the bad people get bad things, and everyone is accounted for. As for Rosa Dartle's ranting and ravings, I do see her point that maybe if Steerforth would have been raised differently he would have been a different person, I don't think it was Rosa Dartle who would have brought the best out of him. On the other hand now that I'm thinking about it, it seems as if her life became bitter because she lost the love of Steerforth:

'I tell you,' she returned, 'I WILL speak to her. No power on earth should stop me, while I was standing here! Have I been silent all these years, and shall I not speak now? I loved him better than you ever loved him!' turning on her fiercely. 'I could have loved him, and asked no return. If I had been his wife, I could have been the slave of his caprices for a word of love a year. I should have been. Who knows it better than I? You were exacting, proud, punctilious, selfish. My love would have been devoted—would have trod your paltry whimpering under foot!'

With flashing eyes, she stamped upon the ground as if she actually did it.

'Look here!' she said, striking the scar again, with a relentless hand. 'When he grew into the better understanding of what he had done, he saw it, and repented of it! I could sing to him, and talk to him, and show the ardour that I felt in all he did, and attain with labour to such knowledge as most interested him; and I attracted him. When he was freshest and truest, he loved me. Yes, he did! Many a time, when you were put off with a slight word, he has taken Me to his heart!'

So perhaps if she and Steerforth would have married she wouldn't be the bitter, angry person she seems to me now.

The last chapter in this installment, Chapter 57 is titled "The Emigrants" and you can tell our book is coming to an end. At the beginning of the chapter David decides not to tell Mr. Peggotty or Emily about the deaths of Ham and Steerforth and he confides in Mr. Micawber who agrees with David and promises to intercept any newspaper through which this news might, without such precautions, reach them. While I see why David wouldn't want them to know, I think he, or someone, will have to tell them eventually, they can't keep the death of Mr. Peggotty's own nephew a secret from him forever can they? We have another description of the Micawber's preparations for their journey:

"He had provided himself, among other things, with a complete suit of oilskin, and a straw hat with a very low crown, pitched or caulked on the outside. In this rough clothing, with a common mariner's telescope under his arm, and a shrewd trick of casting up his eye at the sky as looking out for dirty weather, he was far more nautical, after his manner, than Mr. Peggotty. His whole family, if I may so express it, were cleared for action. I found Mrs. Micawber in the closest and most uncompromising of bonnets, made fast under the chin; and in a shawl which tied her up (as I had been tied up, when my aunt first received me) like a bundle, and was secured behind at the waist, in a strong knot. Miss Micawber I found made snug for stormy weather, in the same manner; with nothing superfluous about her. Master Micawber was hardly visible in a Guernsey shirt, and the shaggiest suit of slops I ever saw; and the children were done up, like preserved meats, in impervious cases. Both Mr. Micawber and his eldest son wore their sleeves loosely turned back at the wrists, as being ready to lend a hand in any direction, and to 'tumble up', or sing out, 'Yeo—Heave—Yeo!' on the shortest notice."

" I could not but observe that he had been peeling the lemons with his own clasp-knife, which, as became the knife of a practical settler, was about a foot long; and which he wiped, not wholly without ostentation, on the sleeve of his coat. Mrs. Micawber and the two elder members of the family I now found to be provided with similar formidable instruments, while every child had its own wooden spoon attached to its body by a strong line. In a similar anticipation of life afloat, and in the Bush, Mr. Micawber, instead of helping Mrs. Micawber and his eldest son and daughter to punch, in wine-glasses, which he might easily have done, for there was a shelf-full in the room, served it out to them in a series of villainous little tin pots; and I never saw him enjoy anything so much as drinking out of his own particular pint pot, and putting it in his pocket at the close of the evening."

More than once during this time when they are getting ready to depart Mr. Micawber is served with papers with the heading "Heep vs. Micawber" and is arrested for debt, the last time actually being on the deck of the ship. Each time David pays the money to have him released. Mrs. Micawber gives one of her speeches saying that now Mr. Micawber is going to a country that will appreciate him and honor him, a place where he will say:

"This country I am come to conquer! Have you honours? Have you riches? Have you posts of profitable pecuniary emolument? Let them be brought forward. They are mine!"'

As David is leaving his friends on the ship Mr. Peggotty asks him if there is anything else that they had forgotten and David asks what should he do about Martha. When he asks that Martha comes forward and David realizes that Mr. Peggotty is taking her with him:

'Heaven bless you, you good man!' cried I. 'You take her with you!'

She answered for him, with a burst of tears. I could speak no more at that time, but I wrung his hand; and if ever I have loved and honoured any man, I loved and honoured that man in my soul. "

Reading these chapters gave me an idea of why this book is almost at an end. It isn't that Dickens has told us all he could have about David, it's that at the rate we are now going soon there won't be anyone left in the book. It seems to me like most of our characters have now died - David's mother, her child, Barkis, Dora, Dora's father, Aunt Betsey's husband, Ham, Steerforth - all dead; or are going to Australia - Mr. Peggotty, Emily, Martha, Mr. Micawber, Mrs. Micawber, all their children and Mrs. Gummidge. I'm not sure if I missed anyone who is either in a grave or on a ship, but I'll give it more thought while I go get the illustrations. Perhaps Australia is where Uriah and his mother have run off to.

Kim wrote: "Dear Pickwickians,

We are almost finished!! At this rate it will soon be time to decorate for Christmas. We have only one more installment after this one and David will be on his own without us to..."

That's a good question, Kim. Aunt Betsey's husband does seem rather meaningless in the story. I imagine he adds some mystery, aids in making David more self-reliant and helps further the plot, but all those reasons could be accomplished in other ways. Often, I suspect, characters arrive in Dickens's novels only to be faded away by Dickens when he either discovers the public has little interest in them, or worse, he himself doesn't know what to do with them himself.

Your list of characters who either die or sail away in the novel was extensive. I think DC must have the most "exits" of any novel to date. I eagerly await Micawber sailing off into the sunset.

Kim wrote: "This is my favorite illustration in the novel:



The Emigrants

Chapter 57

The commentary says:

"In this illustration Phiz focuses on the figures of Wilkens Micawber, Daniel Peggotty, and David ..."

Kim wrote: "Chapter 55 is titled "Tempest" and until I reached this chapter I had not given Steerforth a thought in quite a while. I'm not sure why but he never even entered my thoughts anymore. I think we c..."

This was a great chapter of atmosphere and suspense. A character as bad as Steerforth must die, and Dickens does ensure this is during a wicked storm. That Ham must die too makes some sense. With Emily going to Australia, the noble and long-suffering Ham must be given a hero's send off by Dickens. The death of both of Emily's suitors on the very beach where David and Emily played as children completes the circle. There were three men in Emily's life. The innocent puppy-love of David, the noble and faithful love of Ham and the lustful destructive love of Steerforth all are combined in this one tempestuous scene.

David's visit to Steerforth's mother is a rather strange one. It is almost as if Dickens wanted his readers to see Mrs. Steerforth and Rosa Dartle finally put in their places, finally humbled and finally left alone together with a shared grief with no redemption possible. It borders on Sartre's comment that "hell is other people." These two women are doomed to be each other's companions in a very confined world.

Kim: As always, thank you for providing the illustrations and your comments regarding them. It is a much richer experience doing these chapters.

I wonder why the illustration of The Emigrants does not contain Martha and Emily. Surely Micawber's children could have been left out instead.

To me, the fate and the future of Emily and Martha is a very key element of the story. While Emily may be "little" in stature, she plays a vital role in the novel. Both Emily and Martha, as fallen women, serve as a counterbalance to Dora and Agnes, the plot's central pure women. With David as the central hub among these women, Dickens is able to create and then contrast a courtship and properly sanctioned marriage such as the one between David and Dora to the illicit union of Emily and Steerforth. Further, we have the contrast of Agnes to Martha. Agnes, to this point in the novel, is single, but has been able to demonstrate the proper restraint of a Victorian woman. She is kind, considerate, cares for her father, and is self-motivated to create work as a school mistress. On the other hand, Martha has taken, or been forced, to take a different route to survive as a single woman. While Martha's background may not be as advantaged as Agnes's, the single female and her choices in society are clearly in evidence.

Caught up again, and just in time for the final section of the book. I absolutely loved reading about the Explosion, and I admit that Dora's dying made me cry--I was surprised at the level of emotion that I felt for her and David, especially since I knew it was coming. Dickens really knew how to wring emotion from a scene, and I think this one was all the more poignant for being off stage.

I enjoyed Heep vs. Micawber, and the wild swings that Mr. M undergoes with each arrest. I remember our early discussion about the macabre aspect of the Micawbers, and I have to say that they did become truly comic characters for me. Not without pathos, but isn't that a key ingredient in classical comic characters?

I liked the comment about the story needing to end because every character except David, Peggotty, Agnes, and Traddle have either died or emigrated.

I'm firm in my opinion that DC really is Dickens' masterpiece. I haven't read it in decades, but it stands up to the place it holds in my affection.

Now, on to the end!

As I read this week’s section, I felt the various threads coming together and slowly being tied off, but sadly I didn’t find myself that engrossed in the story overall. Perhaps because two of the chapters dealt with so much of the Micawbers, Mr. Micawber’s “transactions” and upcoming emigration. I thought we were done with Micawber for the most part during last week’s section.

Kim, I also don’t understand why Aunt Betsy’s husband had to appear mysteriously in the book. When she revealed to David that he had just died, I wondered what it was all for, except to make Aunt Betsy lose money to him which led her to living close to David in the end.

Kim wrote: It reminded me of those weather people on television who bring us reports of hurricanes and such things standing on beaches getting knocked over by the wind and rain and all the time I'm sitting there wondering why they couldn't tell us about the storm from inside a nice safe building.

I just can't imagine how in a storm this bad the curly-haired man managed to keep his red cap on at all.

Kim, you have me totally cracking up reading your synopsis. I just had to say that. Lol. Anyway, the storm scene – it was a completely magnificent storm. However I almost found myself starting to skim this section as it seemed to last forever. As for Ham’s death, I was very much surprised. The possibility of him dying didn’t even cross my mind. Steerforth’s death came less as a surprise, though. He had to show up near the end of the book somehow. My favorite passage related to this scene was when David was near Steerforth’s covered body: While I tried to consider what it would be best to do, the wind plucked at the flag, as if it were eager to get underneath and see its work.

Kim, I agree with you on Chapter 57, I wasn’t that interested in it. I guess this week’s section just didn’t grab me. Anyway, the entire time I was reading of David’s trip to break the news of Steerforth’s death to his mother, I couldn’t help but wonder who was taking care of Ham’s body and preparations besides the undertakers. Especially since David wanted to keep Ham’s death a secret. This just didn’t feel right to me. It felt like Ham was left all alone in death, apart from everyone he had grown up with and loved. But, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself and we will hear more of what happens regarding him in the remainder of the book.

Mr. Micawber’s multiple arrests, releases, and speeches by the time they were ready to embark on their trip were tiresome to me and I was ready to be rid of him already. Even as I write this I find myself entering into “grump” territory, but I don’t mean to give that impression. I'm anxious to get back to David's story while Micawber is sailing on the great blue yonder.

Peter wrote: "Often, I suspect, characters arrive in Dickens's novels only to be faded away by Dickens when he either discovers the public has little interest in them, or worse, he himself doesn't know what to do with them himself."

That's a good point, Peter. Written in serial format, Dickens didn't have the luxury of refining his story and characters from cover to cover before publication. And taking the public's reaction into consideration while writing each installment is another wrench in the works.

Your list of characters who either die or sail away in the novel was extensive. I think DC must have the most "exits" of any novel to date. I eagerly await Micawber sailing off into the sunset.

I was also impressed by the two lists. One character needs to be added to the death list, though. That of poor Jip, who played more than a minor role in the book.

**Edited - "roll" to "role". I must have been hungry when typing my post!!

Peter wrote: "The death of both of Emily's suitors on the very beach where David and Emily played as children completes the circle. There were three men in Emily's life. The innocent puppy-love of David, the noble and faithful love of Ham and the lustful destructive love of Steerforth all are combined in this one tempestuous scene."

Ah...I like your interpretation of this scene, Peter. Very nice!

Linda wrote: "One character needs to be added to the death list, though. That of poor Jip, who played more than a minor role in the book."

I can't believe I forgot Jip! And he was a spaniel too, every time I thought of what was to come for Jip I had tears in my eyes - of course it didn't help that when I'm reading I usually have a cocker spaniel of my own on my lap.

Peter wrote: " It borders on Sartre's comment that "hell is other people."

My oldest sister used to say that, I thought that was her own thought I didn't realize it came from Sartre.

Hmm..I just reread what I wrote and it makes my sister sound like she's dead which she isn't. At least if she is no one called. :-)

Jane wrote: "Caught up again, and just in time for the final section of the book. I absolutely loved reading about the Explosion, and I admit that Dora's dying made me cry--I was surprised at the level of emot..."

I also cried when Dora died and I even read the book before! I always liked Dora so maybe that made it more emotional to me. Even though she was annoying with that "child-wife" stuff and all, she also seemed rather kind in her own way to other people. I don't think she was ever upset with David when he went here and there in the novel - something he had to do I suppose in order to tell us who said what - even when she was sick she still encouraged him to go. I wasn't thrilled with David leaving her home in bed, but as I already said, I guess he had to be at those places to tell us what happened. Dickens wrote this to John Forster:

"I have been very hard at work these three days, and have still Dora to kill. But with good luck, I may do it to-morrow.

I also liked the Micawbers. No matter what they did as the novel went on I still remembered they were kind to David when he was a young boy with no friends put in that awful blackening factory.

I'm firm in my opinion that DC really is Dickens' masterpiece. I haven't read it in decades, but it stands up to the place it holds in my affection.

In the preface to the 1867 edition, Dickens wrote,

"like many fond parents, I have in my heart of hearts a favourite child. And his name is David Copperfield."

Peter wrote: "The death of both of Emily's suitors on the very beach where David and Emily played as children completes the circle."

This is what Dickens wrote to Forster about Ham and Steerforth:

"I have been tremendously at work these two days; eight hours at a stretch yesterday, and six hours and a half to-day, with the Ham and Steerforth chapter, which has completely knocked me over—utterly defeated me!"

"I am within three pages of the shore; and am strangely divided, as usual in such cases, between sorrow and joy. Oh, my dear Forster, if I were to say half of what Copperfield makes me feel to-night, how strangely, even to you, I should be turned inside out! I seem to be sending some part of myself into the Shadowy World."

Kim wrote: "Jane wrote: "Caught up again, and just in time for the final section of the book. I absolutely loved reading about the Explosion, and I admit that Dora's dying made me cry--I was surprised at the ..."

Dickens's comment about still having to kill Dora, and with any luck "he may do it to-morrow" was quite something. It is strangly humorous, which I presume was his intent. Still, it does suggest that his characters do take on their separate lives in his mind. Dickens seems to become personally attached to many of his creations. David being his favourite child is very interesting, and his labours over the end of Steerforth and Ham sound rather dramatic.

Linda wrote: "As I read this week’s section, I felt the various threads coming together and slowly being tied off, but sadly I didn’t find myself that engrossed in the story overall. Perhaps because two of the ..."

As I read this week’s section, I felt the various threads coming together and slowly being tied off, but sadly I didn’t find myself that engrossed in the story overall. Perhaps because two of the chapters dealt with so much of the Micawbers, Mr. Micawber’s “transactions” and upcoming emigration.
You hit the nail on the head for me. I'm afraid, I too am no longer as engaged as I have been throughout this novel. I would have thought, at this point, there would still be some more excitement; but like you, I am not remotely interested in the Micawbers and so much content is dedicated to them in these chapters. I wasn't expecting this, which is probably the issue...I had expectations! LoL!

Hillary made some great points for Mr. Micawber in a previous thread, he's one of her favorite characters; and while I loved what she wrote, I found myself thinking "God, I wish I liked him as much as she does..." I just couldn't get into his character for the life of me! :)

Mr. Micawber’s multiple arrests, releases, and speeches by the time they were ready to embark on their trip were tiresome to me and I was ready to be rid of him already. I'm anxious to get back to David's story while Micawber is sailing on the great blue yonder.
I hope I'm not being a dud because you're saying "everything" I would have wanted to say. Yes, please go to Australia and let's be done with it already, Mr. Dickens...Please? :)

Even as I write this I find myself entering into “grump” territory, but I don’t mean to give that impression.
I understand how you feel, and "no," you're not being a "grump..." Far from it! I think it's been a long and wonderful journey, but maybe these latter chapters aren't...Well, I don't know...They just aren't. I'll leave it at that.

Ham's death...Steerforth...Aunt Betsy's husband
Ham's death did come as a surprise, and yes, Steerforth's not so much. I would have thought we would have had a lot more from Steerforth's character than we ended up with. Rosa Dartle sounded like a raging lunatic when dealing with the news of Steerforth's passing...She was "in love" with him, that's what her issue has been? It's almost as if Dickens is cheating me on the ending? I mean, characters are either dying, or they are being shipped off to go abroad. Speaking of, what "was" the point of bringing back Aunt Betsey's husband...Again, only to die?

Ami wrote: "Hillary made some great points for Mr. Micawber in a previous thread, he's one of her favorite characters; and while I loved what she wrote, I found myself thinking "God, I wish I liked him as much as she does..." I just couldn't get into his character for the life of me! :)"

Well, you took the thoughts right out of my head, Ami! I swear, I thought the exact same thing when I read Hilary's post about Mr. Micawber.

I mean, characters are either dying, or they are being shipped off to go abroad.

I didn't realize how many characters were in these two camps until Kim listed them earlier!

I think it's been a long and wonderful journey, but maybe these latter chapters aren't...Well, I don't know...They just aren't. I'll leave it at that.

I thought maybe I was too tired the evening I read this week's section, but I'm glad I'm not the only one having these feelings.

I am anxious to get back to David now. And since so many people are dead or gone and the book needs to conclude with his history, I'm assuming this is where we are headed in the last installment. And assuming that the Micawber ship headed to Australia doesn't need to turn around and return to England due to a ripped sail or some such unfortunate event. :)

Linda wrote: "Ami wrote: "Hillary made some great points for Mr. Micawber in a previous thread, he's one of her favorite characters; and while I loved what she wrote, I found myself thinking "God, I wish I liked..."

I am anxious to get back to David now. And since so many people are dead or gone and the book needs to conclude with his history, I'm assuming this is where we are headed in the last installment. And assuming that the Micawber ship headed to Australia doesn't need to turn around and return to England due to a ripped sail or some such unfortunate event. :)
yes, me too...Perhaps it is a device to quickly rid the narrative of these characters so we can focus our energies on David? At least that's what I'm hoping. :)

While I can't consider him a great comic creation, I must admit that Micawber finally made me laugh, too, when he reentered the story a few chapters ago. The first time was in his letter summoning David, using a string of repetitive sentences ("The canker is in the flower. The cup is bitter to the brim." etc) ending with "But I will not digress." (!) Then there is the irony that he finally finds something he excels at -- unravelling the mess Heep created -- and instead of pursuing these legal/accounting skills, he decides to farm in Australia? I also enjoyed his exchanges with Aunt Betsey; she is so forthright that she makes a great foil for Micawber. Having said that, I like her much more, and found her funnier.

Betsey's story did not end as I suspected. When David became an articled clerk to Spenlow, I thought he would eventually help her, with his legal training, get some relief from her husband's extortion (as well as sort out Wickfield's predicament). But others help Wickfield, and Betsey's husband eventually dies. For me, this touches on the question Peter has referred back to, about whether David is the hero of his own life. Perhaps Betsey's relationship serves as another example of how difficult marriage is, and the need for forgiveness, even 36 years later.

The build-up of the Tempest had a Wrath-of-God feeling, for me. I felt really sorry for Ham -- he didn't even get to read Emily's letter to him before drowning. And that he can face the prospect of his death "cheerily", reminds me of how tired he was of his life, and also, oddly reminds me of Martha's desperation by the river. I'm glad Dickens showed her more mercy than Ham.

It did seem a very fitting end to the chapter, however, that Steerforth washed up amongst the ruins of the old houseboat home he destroyed for so many others. And how ironic his body is covered with a flag -- isn't this a mark of honour? (Linda, I missed the passage about the wind plucking at the flag?) I also felt Ham's remains were abandoned, with none of his loved ones there to keep a vigil over them.

Vanessa wrote: "The build-up of the Tempest had a Wrath-of-God feeling, for me. I felt really sorry for Ham -- he didn't even get to read Emily's letter to him before drowning. And that he can face the prospect o..."

I agree with you. Ham seemed abandoned too much in his death. Steerforth deserved his death, but David's reflection on his death is softened when David remarks on how Steerforth's death pose reminds him of how Steerforth looked as he slept at school.

Ham deserved a more personal and respectful commentary on his death.

Vanessa wrote: " (Linda, I missed the passage about the wind plucking at the flag?)"

Chapter 56, third paragraph. In my copy of the book, this sentence is put in brackets, which means it was edited out of the original publication in order for the word count to fit. All of the edited out bits were put back in in my edition (Signet Classics).

I felt really sorry for Ham -- he didn't even get to read Emily's letter to him before drowning. And that he can face the prospect of his death "cheerily", reminds me of how tired he was of his life...

I didn't catch this, that Ham didn't even get to read Emily's letter before dying. That makes his death even sadder. Thanks for pointing that out, Vanessa.

What a lively discussion, friends! I also felt that Ham was treated rather - as we say in German - stepmotherly, both by fate and by the narrator. I always wondered if he knew whom he was going to save and if he really wanted to save Steerforth if he had recognized him.

About Kim's very good question why David went out despite the terrible weather: Had he not done so, we would not have witnessed the poetic-justice scene about Steerforth's death, it's as simple as that :-) This also explains why Steerforth should turn up in Yarmouth again, of all places. Apart from the conventions of the novel - i.e. that the villain has to meet punishment at the end - Steerforth's presence here did not make a whole lot of sense to me.

I also liked Peter's pointing out that all three of Emily's "lovers" were united in the tempest once more. Interestingly, it is David again who remains a mere spectator and refrains from taking any action: This seems to be what David is really good at - watching other people act rather than act himself. That is probably also why, unlike many other Pickwickians, I am not too fond of and neither even too interested in David himself. His smug passivity puts me off, but that is probably something I had better leave for our final discussion of the novel.

I am also with Hilary in liking Mr. Micawber, especially his grandiloquence and his tendency to oscillate between emotional extremes.

As to grumpiness, you cannot learn it: It is a natural gift! ;-)

Tristram wrote: "What a lively discussion, friends! I also felt that Ham was treated rather - as we say in German - stepmotherly, both by fate and by the narrator. I always wondered if he knew whom he was going to ..."

In a previous thread, you mentioned...

They start with a bang and keep up pace but then the ending just seems to go on and on and on, like in our novel here: The last seven chapters are very hard-going, I think.
The narrative is dragging, for me, partly because the majority of the story lines are ending up being packaged too simplistically...It's either death, or moving the lott of them abroad. I would have liked a standoff between Steerforth and Ham, maybe even David (wishful thinking, I know). Yes, and even Ham's passing, as many of you have mentioned, was nothing but an afterthought.

Perhaps, I missed the point of Steerforth because his character truly fizzled out as we gained some ground in DC ...Or even Mr. Micawber and his family who never did peter off, boy they just kept coming back with vengeance in so many of these chapters?

Tristram wrote: "I am not too fond of and neither even too interested in David himself. His smug passivity puts me off. I am also with Hilary in liking Mr. Micawber, especially his grandiloquence and his tendency to oscillate between emotional extremes."

Ami wrote: "Perhaps, I missed the point of Steerforth because his character truly fizzled out as we gained some ground in DC ...Or even Mr. Micawber and his family who never did peter off, boy they just kept coming back with vengeance in so many of these chapters?"

I agree, Ami. I would have liked to have swapped much of the Micawber's storyline with that of Steerforth and Ham in the end.

I also agree with you and Tristram that the last several chapters have been a bit of a drag, and I'm sad to have to admit it since the book did start out with a bang and I was so enthusiastic about it in the beginning.

Tristram, if you couldn't tell from my earlier posts, I have opposite feelings regarding Micawber and David. For me, Micawber took away some of my enjoyment from the book, while I would have liked to have been present in more of David's thoughts. I don't see the smugness in David that you point out, but yes, let's save this discussion for the last thread.

Linda,

we might indeed save the discussion about David as a protagonist for the last thread because it is, to my mind, as central as the question whether the first person narration here is a successful approach or not. Maybe it's no coincidence that Dickens's next novel (view spoiler)[has two different narrators, an omniscient one and a first person narrator (hide spoiler)]. I'm looking forward to discussing these two questions.

Linda wrote: "Vanessa wrote: " (Linda, I missed the passage about the wind plucking at the flag?)"

Chapter 56, third paragraph. In my copy of the book, this sentence is put in brackets, which means it was edit..."

Thanks, Linda! My edition omits this. I agree, what a great line -- edited out, for the sake of a word count! :(

The description of the storm and its build-up went on so long - over several pages. Yet I felt it was totally gripping. The drama of the description really took hold of me, it was so powerful. I cannot remember feeling such intensity and vividness in his writing since the horrific descriptions of the riots in Barnaby Rudge.

I've read an interesting essay by John Sutherland about whether Miss Trotwood was technically a spinster. John Forster always refers to the character as "Mrs Trotwood" and since, as we know, he was privy to Charles Dickens's thoughts as he was writing David Copperfield, he should really know. Here is my review of the book, which contains several "literary conundrums".

Now I've read chapter 54 again though, where Aunt Betsey "comes clean"to David, I really think I must add an edit to it! I don't get the impression that she is dissembling here, but that she is perfectly straightforward. And I partly share your view Kim, that in a way he's just a waste of space. All the way through we've had this tempting thread of mystery dangled in front of us, and the explanation, when it comes, is really just a bit of a let-down.

It seems more likely to me than anything, that Aunt Betsey's husband was a sort of potential back-up plot. He was a flexible non-character who could be expanded as Dickens saw fit- or treated as a loose end which he could just tie up - as he has done.

Dickens liked to leave himself a bit of "wiggle room" didn't he? :D

Jean wrote: "The description of the storm and its build-up went on so long - over several pages. Yet I felt it was totally gripping. The drama of the description really took hold of me, it was so powerful. I ca..."

I felt that too Jean. What fantastic imagery. It really drew me into the action, emotional and all, and I was reading faster and faster to find out what was going to happen. Ha ha.

Jean wrote: "I've read an interesting essay by John Sutherland about whether Miss Trotwood was technically a spinster. John Forster always refers to the character as "Mrs Trotwood" ..."

I felt that it was a let down too. It was like Dickens almost forgot to tie the end with Miss Trotwood and her husband and quickly finished it off without thinking too hard about it.