The Pickwick Club discussion

Honourable Pickwickians,

with a view to the fact that tomorrow it is Easter Sunday and there will be exquisite revellings around our humble hearth including family members, who have what in German is called Sitzfleisch I hereby break the rule of opening the latest thread on Sundays, doing it now because I might not have any time tomorrow.

So please feel free to share your thoughts on the last few chapters. If you want to talk about the novel as a whole you will find the appropriate thread in the BR folder.

I wish you all a Happy Easter!!!

I found the ending weak and contrived. We never really find out why Barnaby was spared. Is the only reason Joe didn't go overseas again because his father turned the Maypole over to him? (And with Haredale gone, who now owns the Maypole? Emma can't, I think, because I believe that in 1841 women, particularly married women, still couldn't own property.) Tappertit as a legless shoe black? Seems contrived. I'm not sure why Haredale felt he had to flee; dueling was still, I believe, legal in England at that time, and in any case he killed Chester in self defense. So why flee?

All in all, I was (I am) dissatisfied with so many careless loose ends.

Hi Everyman

I agree. I think the story of each individual could have ended a bit stronger, although, I didn't feel emotionally attached to Barnaby as much as I believe I should have been, I'm glad he escaped. I think the storyline of Gabriel Varden and Barnaby's mother could have been an intriguing one, if it went a bit deeper. I presume it is this affection Gabriel had for her that he saves Barnaby.

Anyway, back to the 'weak' ending - perhaps it doesn't help that there was no central character? It don't think that helped the ending from falling flat. I'm still a bit baffled as to why Barnaby Rudge, for the title?

And finally, Sim's legs. I always knew there was something about those legs. LOL. There was enough mention of them by the narrator and others, in a satirical tone of course, to suggest that the weakness of his legs could not uphold his ambitions and bring Sim the triumph he wanted. It seems, Sim's ultimate punishment is having those precious legs taken away from him and without them, he is literally and metaphorically enduring a life in the gutter.

I'll have to try and find my one of my great grandfather's wills. If I recall correctly, he died before 1841, as a landowner and had only daughters. I'll have to dig it out and see what happened to the land they owned.

Kate wrote: "I'll have to try and find my one of my great grandfather's wills. If I recall correctly, he died before 1841, as a landowner and had only daughters. I'll have to dig it out and see what happened to the land they owned. "

That would be really interesting.

According to the Wikipedia article quoted below, Emma would have been allowed to own the property if she remained single, but even if it were left to her, since she was married, it all reverted to her husband.

From the article:

Before 1870, any money made by a woman either through a wage, from investment, by gift, or through inheritance automatically became the property of her husband once she was married. Once a woman became married her property was no longer her own and her husband could choose to dispose of it whenever he thought suitable: “Thus, a woman, on marrying, relinquished her personal property—moveable property such as money, stocks, furniture, and livestock--- to her husband’s ownership; by law he was permitted to dispose of it at will at any time in the marriage and could even will it away at death”.[2] Even in death a woman’s husband continued to have control over her former property. Married women had few legal rights and were by law not recognized as being a separate legal being – a feme sole. In contrast, single and widowed women were considered in common law to be femes sole, and they already had the right to own property in their own names.

Everyman wrote: "I found the ending weak and contrived. We never really find out why Barnaby was spared. Is the only reason Joe didn't go overseas again because his father turned the Maypole over to him? (And wit..."

Grump.

Kim wrote: "Everyman wrote: "I found the ending weak and contrived. We never really find out why Barnaby was spared. Is the only reason Joe didn't go overseas again because his father turned the Maypole over..."

But I notice you didn't say anything to contradict my opinion.

It seems to me as though Dickens just felt it was time to wrap this one up and so quickly tried to get all the characters killed off, married, or gone, with the sole exception of Barnaby, who is none of the above.

In his later works, Dickens planned out his novels fairly carefully, but I think in this he was mostly winging it.

Everyman wrote: "Kim wrote: "Everyman wrote: "I found the ending weak and contrived. We never really find out why Barnaby was spared. Is the only reason Joe didn't go overseas again because his father turned the ..."

In case you don't know by now (and you should) I like it when at the end of the novel, in that "last chapter" good things happen to the good people, bad things happen to the bad people, and everything is all wrapped up nice and neat. Either good or bad, none of that moral ambiguity stuff, remember? Although since loosing an arm isn't a good thing something bad did happen to one of the good guys. :-}

Dickens letter to his illustrator:


Broadstairs, Sunday, September 12th, 1841.


My dear George,

Here is a business letter, written in a scramble just before post time, whereby I dispose of loves to cousin in a line.

Firstly. Will you design, upon a block of wood, Lord George Gordon, alone and very solitary, in his prison in the Tower? The chamber as ancient as you please, and after your own fancy; the time, evening; the season, summer.

Secondly. Will you ditto upon a ditto, a sword duel between Mr. Haredale and Mr. Chester, in a grove of trees? No one close by. Mr. Haredale has just pierced his adversary, who has fallen, dying, on the grass. He (that is, Chester) tries to staunch the wound in his breast with his handkerchief; has his snuffbox on the earth beside him, and looks at Mr. Haredale (who stands with his sword in his hand, looking down on him) with most supercilious hatred, but polite to the last. Mr. Haredale is more sorry than triumphant.

Thirdly. Will you conceive and execute, after your own fashion, a frontispiece for "Barnaby"?

Fourthly. Will you also devise a subject representing "Master Humphrey's Clock" as stopped; his chair by the fireside, empty; his crutch against the wall; his slippers on the cold hearth; his hat upon the chair-back; the MSS. of "Barnaby" and "The Curiosity Shop" heaped upon the table; and the flowers you introduced in the first subject of all withered and dead? Master Humphrey being supposed to be no more.

I have a fifthly, sixthly, seventhly, and eighthly; for I sorely want you, as I approach the close of the tale, but I won't frighten you, so we'll take breath.

Always, my dear Cattermole,
Heartily yours.


P.S.—I have been waiting until I got to subjects of this nature, thinking you would like them best.

Everyman wrote: "Kim wrote: "Everyman wrote: "I found the ending weak and contrived. We never really find out why Barnaby was spared. Is the only reason Joe didn't go overseas again because his father turned the ..."

Everyman

I also feel the end of the novel was especially weak, and unlike the earlier novels where Dickens ties up the loose ends, prescribes justice as need be, and rewards the faithful foot soldiers, BR seems to dash about, bounce around and scurry to an end. As Kate notes in message 3 the bit with Sims' legs is too contrived, even for an early Dickens novel. Dickens did spend a great deal of time earlier in the novel commenting on Sims' beautiful legs, but it seems almost too easy to end Sim's character off as Dickens did.

Kim wrote: "Dickens letter to his illustrator:


Broadstairs, Sunday, September 12th, 1841.


My dear George,

Here is a business letter, written in a scramble just before post time, whereby I dispose of loves..."

Kim

Thanks for digging up this letter. This entire thread seems to be leaning towards the hasty resolve Dickens perhaps exhibits in these last chapters. From your letter I note Dickens says the letter was "written in a scramble" and that is exactly the way I feel about the ending chapters of BR.

Dickens "fifthly, sixthly and seventhly and eighthly" comments lends more suggestion to a hurried exit, a quick sweeping up of all the bits and pieces.

Kate wrote: "Hi Everyman

I agree. I think the story of each individual could have ended a bit stronger, although, I didn't feel emotionally attached to Barnaby as much as I believe I should have been, I'm gla..."

Hi Kate

Ah yes, the title of the novel. I don't know why it is Barnaby Rudge. It seems illogical to me, especially when we consider the titles of Oliver Twist, Nicholas Nickleby, and, of course The Pickwick Papers. Now those titles do fit with the focus and the character who is front and centre in the entirety of the novel.

I think "Varden, The Honest Tradesman" or "The Riots," or even "Innocence Lost" would be some suggestions that might work.

Here is what Dickens friend John Forster said about who he thought was the greatest villian in the book:

There is poor brutish Hugh, too, loitering lazily outside the Maypole door, with a storm of passions in him raging to be let loose; already the scaffold's withered fruit, as he is doomed to be its ripe offering; and though with all the worst instincts of the savage, yet not without also some of the best. Still farther out of kindly nature's pitying reach lurks the worst villain of the scene: with this sole claim to consideration, that it was by constant contact with the filthiest instrument of law and state he had become the mass of moral filth he is. Mr. Dennis the hangman is a portrait that Hogarth would have painted with the same wholesome severity of satire which is employed upon it in Barnaby Rudge.

Peter wrote: "Kate wrote: "Hi Everyman

I agree. I think the story of each individual could have ended a bit stronger, although, I didn't feel emotionally attached to Barnaby as much as I believe I should have ..."

Hi Peter

Yes, maybe the name indicates a change of direction, as the novel developed?

Anyway, as a whole, I did enjoy the writing, particularly the characters, the settings and all the tension. Now that I'm reading NN, I can see how his writing has developed, for example, in his caricatures. I can sense his experimentation of this in Vincent Crummles (I'm up to chapter 25 so far) and clearly he has been able to show more expertise as he extends it to numerous characters in BR.

Everyman wrote: "It seems to me as though Dickens just felt it was time to wrap this one up and so quickly tried to get all the characters killed off, married, or gone, with the sole exception of Barnaby, who is none of the above."

Could illness have been the reason Barnaby wraps up the way it does? The following is from "The Life of Charles Dickens" by John Forster:


On the 11th September he (Dickens) wrote, "I have just burnt into Newgate, and am going in the next number to tear the prisoners out by the hair of their heads. The number which gets into the jail you'll have in proof by Tuesday." This was followed up a week later: "I have let all the prisoners out of Newgate, burnt down Lord Mansfield's, and played the very devil. Another number will finish the fires, and help us on towards the end. I feel quite smoky when I am at work. I want elbow-room terribly." To this trouble, graver supervened at his return, a serious personal sickness not the least; but he bore up gallantly, and I had never better occasion than now to observe his quiet endurance of pain, how little he thought of himself where the sense of self is commonly supreme, and the manful duty with which everything was done that, ailing as he was, he felt it necessary to do. He was still in his sick-room (22d October) when he wrote, "I hope I sha'n't leave off any more, now, until I have finished Barnaby." Three days after that, he was busying himself eagerly for others; and on the 2d of November the printers received the close of Barnaby Rudge.

He suffered more than he let any one perceive, and was obliged again to keep his room for some days. On the 2d of November he reported himself as progressing and ordered to Richmond, which, after a week or so, he changed to the White Hart at Windsor, where I passed some days with him, Mrs. Dickens, and her younger sister Georgina; but it was not till near the close of that month he could describe himself as thoroughly on his legs again, in the ordinary state on which he was wont to pride himself, bolt upright, staunch at the knees, a deep sleeper, a hearty eater, a good laugher, and nowhere a bit the worse, "bating a little weakness now and then, and a slight nervousness at times."

Kim wrote: "Here is what Dickens friend John Forster said about who he thought was the greatest villian in the book:

There is poor brutish Hugh, too, loitering lazily outside the Maypole door, with a storm o..."

Kim

Dennis, "The mass of moral filth." Gee, Forster didn't hold back, did he? That phrase is positively Dickensian, but definitely not Pickwickian.

Kim wrote: "Everyman wrote: "It seems to me as though Dickens just felt it was time to wrap this one up and so quickly tried to get all the characters killed off, married, or gone, with the sole exception of B..."

Kim

Your research certainly presents much valuable insight into the twilight chapters of BR. It certainly sounds like Dickens was "down for the count" for awhile. As always, thank you for finding the missing parts of a puzzle.

Are you in the process of reading Forster's biography of Dickens?

Kate wrote: "Yes, maybe the name indicates a change of direction, as the novel developed?"

That's likely, since he had the first chapters, including the title, in print long before he had finished writing the novel.

Everyman wrote: "Kate wrote: "I'll have to try and find my one of my great grandfather's wills. If I recall correctly, he died before 1841, as a landowner and had only daughters. I'll have to dig it out and see wha..."

Hi Everyman

I got confused. The Will I have is from my ancestor who died in 1810 and had, at that time, a son to pass on his land to. Although his daughters did get GBP600 each, with specific instructions that it was for their personal spending and should not be used to pay off the husbands debts. LOL. I like him. Good man!

Peter wrote: "Kim wrote: "Everyman wrote: "It seems to me as though Dickens just felt it was time to wrap this one up and so quickly tried to get all the characters killed off, married, or gone, with the sole ex..."

No, I'm not reading it right now. I have it and read through it a few times and look things up in it pretty often, and I had a vague memory of something wrong when Dickens was writing Barnaby so I looked in there. I didn't see what was wrong with him though and I'm pretty sure it was a stomach problem so I must have read that somewhere else.

Our new music director asked me not long ago why we (people from Pennsylvania) use the word "pretty" when we do, such as "that looks pretty ugly". He says we make no sense. I see I used it above. :-}

Joy wrote: "I still don't get all that happened with Barnaby's father, even though that was many chapters ago. I thought I would understand it better by the end but I don't."

Joy,

Barnaby's father was executed before the execution of the rioters took place. At the beginning of Chapter 76, there is a passage in which Gabriel recollects how Rudge was taken to the scaffold:

"As the locksmith walked slowly away from Sir John Chester's chambers, he lingered under the trees which shaded the path, almost hoping that he might be summoned to return. He had turned back thrice, and still loitered at the corner, when the clock struck twelve.

It was a solemn sound, and not merely for its reference to to-morrow; for he knew that in that chime the murderer's knell was rung. He had seen him pass along the crowded street, amidst the execration of the throng; and marked his quivering lip, and trembling limbs; the ashy hue upon his face, his clammy brow, the wild distraction of his eye—the fear of death that swallowed up all other thoughts, and gnawed without cessation at his heart and brain. He had marked the wandering look, seeking for hope, and finding, turn where it would, despair. He had seen the remorseful, pitiful, desolate creature, riding, with his coffin by his side, to the gibbet. He knew that, to the last, he had been an unyielding, obdurate man; that in the savage terror of his condition he had hardened, rather than relented, to his wife and child; and that the last words which had passed his white lips were curses on them as his enemies.

Mr Haredale had determined to be there, and see it done. Nothing but the evidence of his own senses could satisfy that gloomy thirst for retribution which had been gathering upon him for so many years. The locksmith knew this, and when the chimes had ceased to vibrate, hurried away to meet him."

There were some things I liked, and others that I did not take to very gladly in these last six chapters.

One of the good things was that Hugh at last showed some pangs of conscience about having dragged Barnaby into the riots, thus being guilty of his friend's execution. I also liked him - though this may make me seem reckless - for his indifference to the terrors of hanging. He looked infinitely better than Dennis, who is downright despicable, in that respect. It was also a fitting trait of his character that he was worried about what was going to happen to his dog. Of course, none of this makes Hugh a saint or even tones down his actions, but he becomes more believable as a character.

As to Dennis, I hardly see him as a character at all but as Dickens's vehicle of expressing his contempt for and abhorrence of the death penalty.

I also actually liked that Simon lost his legs, the main source of his pride and overbearing airs. Metaphorically, one might say that this was the author's way of showing that Sim has been all the time more meant as a caricature than a real villain. (Although kidnapping the ladies and all that was doubtless villainous).

There were some things, however, that did not really seem well-balanced to me. Why, for instance, have Varden appeal to Chester's fatherly feelings? I remember when I read this I said to myself, "The riots have been put down, and most of the miscreants have been punished. Why not just call it a day and clear the stage as quickly as possible?"

I was also tempted to just leaf through, and did so, the pages when Joe and Dolly are re-united, because as lovers Joe and Dolly, as well as young Chester and Emma are just plain boring. Dolly's promises, e.g. her not knowing any concern outside the house any more, do make my hair stand on end. As sons, however, Joe and Edward are much more interesting.

What I do find striking is that the father-son relationship between the two Willets can only be turned towards peace and reconciliation when the father has suffered such a shock that mentally he has become a child. Another noticeable thing ist that in the last chapter, when all the characters' lives are summarized (like Kim, I just love that), John Willet is the only among the "good" characters whose death is mentioned. A coincidence? Or has it got a deeper meaning?

One thing I am puzzling over, at the end of my novel there are some reviews listed, in the one review is the comment:

"Essentially Barnaby Rudge contemplates only one kind of personal relation - that of father and son. The novel presents five filial pairs. Each of them suffers from a profound disorder, and in each a father and a son confront one another in a dispute over power and authority."

Not only can I not come up with five pairs of fathers and sons, but only four, but even these four don't all confront one another over power and authority. My four are:

Barnaby and his father - who don't dispute over power and authority, at least not that I remember

Edward and his annoying father

John and Joe Willet

Chester and Hugh - who don't confront one another at all, not as father and son anyway

I can't come up with a fifth.

Tristram wrote: "There were some things I liked, and others that I did not take to very gladly in these last six chapters.

One of the good things was that Hugh at last showed some pangs of conscience about having ..."

I too liked Hugh, as much as you can like Hugh, for defending Barnaby as they were about to be executed; and for worrying about his dog. I too would be extremely worried about my dog.

Tristram wrote: "I was also tempted to just leaf through, and did so, the pages when Joe and Dolly are re-united, because as lovers Joe and Dolly, as well as young Chester and Emma are just plain boring".

Grump. Dolly running to Joe was sweet. I will admit though that Edward and Emma didn't interest me much.

Kim wrote: I can't come up with a fifth"

He was probably meaning Chester and Hugh.

I have one more question before I put this book away. In chapter 81 Chester and Haredale meet for the final time. During this meeting Mr. Haredale says the following:

"With hints, and looks, and crafty words, which told again are nothing, you set on Gashford to this work--this work before us now. With these same hints, and looks, and crafty words, which told again are nothing, you urged him on to gratify the deadly hate he owes me--I have earned it, I thank Heaven--by the abduction and dishonour of my niece."

The part I marked in bold sounds to me like Mr. Haredale did something to Gashford to earn his hate. What was it? I must have either missed something or forgot something.

Kim wrote: "I have one more question before I put this book away. In chapter 81 Chester and Haredale meet for the final time. During this meeting Mr. Haredale says the following:

"With hints, and looks, and..."

Maybe Haredale thwarted one of Gashford's sinister plans long ago when they still knew each other very well? The passage in bold print can certainly not refer to Haredale's clash with Gashford in Chapter 43 because Gashford's hatred was already burning in that situation. Unless someone find a answer to this question, I would say it is one of those blanks Dickens left in the text to make his readers fill them at their own discretion.

Kim wrote: "One thing I am puzzling over, at the end of my novel there are some reviews listed, in the one review is the comment:

"Essentially Barnaby Rudge contemplates only one kind of personal relation - t..."

I would say the fifth father-and-son-pair is Gabriel Varden and Simon Tappertit. Of course, Simon is not really Gabriel's son, but in a way, Simon being an apprentice, he lives in the Varden household, has his meals at the Varden table and is also, theoretically, at least, obliged to acknowledge Varden's authority and act accordingly. This makes him some kind of son to Varden, and his behaviour makes him one of the various sons suffering under their father's authority. Although, unlike the other fathers in the novel, Gabriel Varden is a good one; he even tries to keep Sim out of harm's way more than once, and he does his best to secure this culprit's well-being later.

Joy wrote: "Tristram, Thank you. I'm sure my mind wandered during that passage because I didn't know what the heck they were talking about."

You're welcome, Joy. It is quite striking that Dickens does not make more of the ending of this villain since the whole Reuben Haredale murder story was given so much attention to at the beginning and in the middle of the novel. Somehow Dickens neglected the mysterious stranger after his identity has been uncovered.

Kim wrote: "The part I marked in bold sounds to me like Mr. Haredale did something to Gashford to earn his hate. What was it? I must have either missed something or forgot something.
"

I'll have to go look it up, but I have a vague memory, when they met on the Thames steps (or somewhere around there?) that they were at school together and something happened.

Hmmm.

Ah,yes. Chapter 43. Mr. Chester, Haredale, and Gashford were at school together (" in a remarkably dull and shady seminary at Saint Omer's, where you, being Catholics and of necessity educated out of England, were brought up; and where I, being a promising young Protestant at that time, was sent to learn the French tongue from a native of Paris!'). But Gashford apparently switched from being Catholic to being not only a Protestant but a supporter of Gordon's anti-Catholic program.

"'Add to the singularity, Sir John,' said Mr Haredale, 'that some of you Protestants of promise are at this moment leagued in yonder building, to prevent our having the surpassing and unheard-of privilege of teaching our children to read and write—here—in this land, where thousands of us enter your service every year, and to preserve the freedom of which, we die in bloody battles abroad, in heaps: and that others of you, to the number of some thousands as I learn, are led on to look on all men of my creed as wolves and beasts of prey, by this man Gashford. Add to it besides the bare fact that this man lives in society, walks the streets in broad day—I was about to say, holds up his head, but that he does not—and it will be strange, and very strange, I grant you.'

It also goes,

"'This man,' said Mr Haredale, eyeing him from top to toe, 'who in his boyhood was a thief, and has been from that time to this, a servile, false, and truckling knave: this man, who has crawled and crept through life, wounding the hands he licked, and biting those he fawned upon: this sycophant, who never knew what honour, truth, or courage meant; who robbed his benefactor's daughter of her virtue, and married her to break her heart, and did it, with stripes and cruelty: this creature, who has whined at kitchen windows for the broken food, and begged for halfpence at our chapel doors: this apostle of the faith, whose tender conscience cannot bear the altars where his vicious life was publicly denounced—Do you know this man?'"

So it seems that Gashford actually has a lot to answer for and that Haredale knows about it all, and maybe it is because of that that Gashford harbours an inveterate grudge against Haredale.

I actually smirked at Dickens's mischievous irony in having 'Simmon' become a legless shoeblack. He loses his prize possessions only to be confronted with others' admirable 'pins' on a daily basis.

In Ch 79, on Mrs Rudge's receiving word of Barnaby, Mrs V rushes to Haredale : "She knows it all, dear sir! - she knows it all! We broke it out to her by degrees, and she is quite preparec

Hilary wrote: "I actually smirked at Dickens's mischievous irony in having 'Simmon' become a legless shoeblack. He loses his prize possessions only to be confronted with others' admirable 'pins' on a daily basis..."

How did I miss that point about dealing daily with other peoples' legs? Duh. Obvious, now that you point it out, but I had totally missed it.

Posted prematurely! Having said that Mrs R is quite prepared, we are informed that Mrs V 'according to the custom of matrons on all occasions of excitement, fainted away directly.'

In Ch 80, we see the return of Miggs the delightful. Her tears flow profusely, thus extracting the otherwise sympathetic Mr Varden's remark: "she was born to be a damper, this young woman! Nothing can prevent it!"

I just love the little twists and turns of Dickens's humour. Thanks for all your comments. I, like Joy, was befuddled as to the end of Barnaby's father. Thanks for clearing that up. Fini!!!!!

Everyman, you have no idea how delighted I am to have been of use. My living has not been in vain!

It is also interesting that both Simon and Joe, who are those two characters that rebel openly against their father or father figure, respectively, end up losing a limb or two. It's some form of punishment, I think.

The loss, or impairment, of legs also carries a slight overtone of impotence. At least, this is often the case in film noir, which abound in usually older and wealthy men that have lost the use of their legs and are married to younger women.

In the case of Simon, one can say that he surely feels the need to assert himself as a man in all situations and that his legs used to be one of his best assets, giving him a lot of pride and self-confidence. It's also interesting that in the last chapter it says that Sim's wife would sometimes take off his artificial legs to expose her husband to the derision of the neighbourhood.

Everyman wrote: "Kate wrote: "I'll have to try and find my one of my great grandfather's wills. If I recall correctly, he died before 1841, as a landowner and had only daughters. I'll have to dig it out and see wha..."

After marriage,a woman's property belonged to her husband and she was denied of all rights and husband owned the right. To put in a nutshell isn't a stringent law? A crude event in history.

That's right, Tristram! I forgot about poor old Joe's arm. Yes, Sim certainly found his match in his wife!

Tristram wrote: "In the case of Simon, one can say that he surely feels the need to assert himself as a man in all situations and that his legs used to be one of his best assets, giving him a lot of pride and self-confidence."

Perhaps then his loss of legs was punishment for being so narcissistic? From what I understood, the narrator, and some of the other characters (especially Stagg), thought it was funny that Sim thought so much of his legs, because they were rather pathetic. I think it was the description of Sim at the meeting, in the cellars where Stagg worked, that made me think this. Did anyone else get his impression?

Update: Just looked at our conversations for chapters 6 - 10. We discussed Stagg's comment about Sim being a "duck-legged idiot". I'll have to go back (when I have time) to the earlier part of that scene, to see what the narrator said.

Radhamani wrote: "Everyman wrote: "Kate wrote: "I'll have to try and find my one of my great grandfather's wills. If I recall correctly, he died before 1841, as a landowner and had only daughters. I'll have to dig i..."

However, if a woman happened to survive her husband - there were probably ways - she would have full access to the property and legal control of it again.

Kate wrote: "Tristram wrote: "In the case of Simon, one can say that he surely feels the need to assert himself as a man in all situations and that his legs used to be one of his best assets, giving him a lot o..."

It is definitely the case that Mr. Tappertit's legs were probably not anything to brag about. He also had a very high opinion on the commanding power on his eye, which was equally mocked by Stagg, who said that he could feel the Captain's eye on him.

In a way, Sim corresponds to the stereotype of vertically challenged men, who are generally supposed to be given to the need of compensation through their behaviour.

Tristram wrote: "Kate wrote: "Tristram wrote: "In the case of Simon, one can say that he surely feels the need to assert himself as a man in all situations and that his legs used to be one of his best assets, givin..."

LOL. You make me laugh Tristram. Yes, I've had my experiences of vertically challenged men and their 'macho' and often bullying personas. LOL.

I love this book! And what a journey it's been, reading all your comments alongside :) May I take back any hint of suggestion that Dickens couldn't really write historical novel very well? It obviously needed a second reading to appreciate all the threads and layers.

My review is here