The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Dear Fellow-Curiosities,

Although our reading pace is rather slow this time – something I actually enjoy –, we have already reached the Second Stage of Pip’s Expectations. And, strangely, these expectations appear in quite bleak a light at first sight. When Pip arrives in London, Mr. Jaggers is not in his office yet, but the first impression Pip gets is that the solicitor, who is going to be his guardian, is not to be trifled with because the cabman is anxious not to charge Pip too much when he is told the young man’s destination. There is quite a funny scene:

”’How much?’ I asked the coachman.

The coachman answered, ‘A shilling—unless you wish to make it more.’

I naturally said I had no wish to make it more.

‘Then it must be a shilling,’ observed the coachman. ‘I don’t want to get into trouble. I know him!’ He darkly closed an eye at Mr. Jaggers’s name, and shook his head.”

Then there is Mr. Jaggers’s office, which is lighted by one single skylight – just remember the famous opening scene in Bleak House, where the Lord Chancellor is introduced – and described as a dismal place. I’ll let you have the full description here because it is abounding in meaningful detail:

”Mr. Jaggers’s room was lighted by a skylight only, and was a most dismal place; the skylight, eccentrically pitched like a broken head, and the distorted adjoining houses looking as if they had twisted themselves to peep down at me through it. There were not so many papers about, as I should have expected to see; and there were some odd objects about, that I should not have expected to see,—such as an old rusty pistol, a sword in a scabbard, several strange-looking boxes and packages, and two dreadful casts on a shelf, of faces peculiarly swollen, and twitchy about the nose. Mr. Jaggers’s own high-backed chair was of deadly black horsehair, with rows of brass nails round it, like a coffin; and I fancied I could see how he leaned back in it, and bit his forefinger at the clients. The room was but small, and the clients seemed to have had a habit of backing up against the wall; the wall, especially opposite to Mr. Jaggers’s chair, being greasy with shoulders. I recalled, too, that the one-eyed gentleman had shuffled forth against the wall when I was the innocent cause of his being turned out.”

What does this strange office tell us about its owner?

Pip, after a while, is so depressed with the place that he decides to go for a little walk and call again later, but lo! what are his first impressions of London? One of the first places he happens to find himself in is the vicinity of Newgate Prison, and here he avails himself of the services of a drunken gaoler, who

”was so good as to take me into a yard and show me where the gallows was kept, and also where people were publicly whipped, and then he showed me the Debtors’ Door, out of which culprits came to be hanged; heightening the interest of that dreadful portal by giving me to understand that ‘four on ‘e’” would come out at that door the day after to-morrow at eight in the morning, to be killed in a row. This was horrible, and gave me a sickening idea of London”.

Is it a coincidence merely – after all, Dickens often relies heavily on them – or does it have some deeper meaning that Pip’s first London sightseeing tour begins in Newgate? What does this place suggest to the reader in connection with Pip?

Pip, rather relieved to get rid of his shabby guide for a shilling, drops in at Jaggers’s again, where the clerk tells him that his employer has not yet returned, and so our hero goes for another walk, which this time leads him into a throng of people who seem to be waiting for Jaggers. And then this great man appears among them, dealing with them swiftly and imperiously, thus showing to Pip, and to us, what a sought-for lawyer he is. One of the sentences Jaggers keeps repeating to nearly all of his clients, whom he treats like a master, though, is, “Have you paid Wemmick?” When Pip and Jaggers return to the office, there is a one-eyed man waiting for Jaggers who apparently had the task to procure a witness in a case. In the course of their conversation, we learn about Jaggers’s duplicity when the lawyer clearly wants to buy a witness but not even to his business partner own to buying a witness. Eventually, though, Jaggers refuses to accept the witness brought before him because the man does not look respectable enough.

What do you think of this indirect way in which Jaggers is characterized?

Jaggers then disposes of Pip by telling him how he is going to spend the few days before he is going to be taken to Mr. Pocket’s house – namely by lodging at Barnard’s Inn, in young Mr. Pocket’s rooms. He quickly refers him to his chief clerk Mr. Wemmick for further details.

In Chapter 21, we get more details about this Mr. Wemmick, who has briefly appeared in the previous chapter. When Wemmick and Pip start for Barnard’s Inn, Pip takes a good look at him and gives the following description:

”[…] I found him to be a dry man, rather short in stature, with a square wooden face, whose expression seemed to have been imperfectly chipped out with a dull-edged chisel. There were some marks in it that might have been dimples, if the material had been softer and the instrument finer, but which, as it was, were only dints. The chisel had made three or four of these attempts at embellishment over his nose, but had given them up without an effort to smooth them off. I judged him to be a bachelor from the frayed condition of his linen, and he appeared to have sustained a good many bereavements; for he wore at least four mourning rings, besides a brooch representing a lady and a weeping willow at a tomb with an urn on it. I noticed, too, that several rings and seals hung at his watch-chain, as if he were quite laden with remembrances of departed friends. He had glittering eyes,—small, keen, and black,—and thin wide mottled lips. He had had them, to the best of my belief, from forty to fifty years.”

Like his master, Wemmick has a non-committal and forbidden way of dealing with people and also exudes the air of knowing something detrimental about everybody around him. What Pip took to be a smile at first, soon reveals itself to be the mechanical set of Wemmick’s muscles. He answers Pip’s questions curtly, and when Pip wants to shake hands with him, he reacts like this:

”I put out my hand, and Mr. Wemmick at first looked at it as if he thought I wanted something. Then he looked at me, and said, correcting himself,—

‘To be sure! Yes. You’re in the habit of shaking hands?’

I was rather confused, thinking it must be out of the London fashion, but said yes.

‘I have got so out of it!’ said Mr. Wemmick,—‘except at last. Very glad, I’m sure, to make your acquaintance. Good day!’

He also implies, on parting, that they are probably going to see a lot of each other since it is he who holds the cash.

What do you make of this strange clerk? And what might Wemmick’s opinion on Pip be?

Pip’s disappointing impression of London is even increased by the appearance of Barnard’s Inn and for the first time he begins to doubt the promise of his new expectations. In fact, he has to spend his time waiting again, because young Pocket had not expected him so early and is out. When he finally arrives, there is a big surprise in store for Pip – because Herbert Pocket is none other but the pale young gentleman he gave a jolly good thrashing at Miss Havisham’s.

Jaggers reminds me a bit of an Indian, collecting scalps. He certainly does like to collect trinkets associated with his clients' cases.

Prisons, prisons everywhere! On ships, in Satis House, in bodies, in minds, and now in London. Will the story end in a prison, or will those imprisoned finally be set free? And, if set free, in what manner?

I quite like Herbert. He seems to be such a natural, self-effacing type - perhaps in contrast to what we've seen of Pip's darker side.

Well. So much for Pip finding an Eldorado in London. If the marsh-world of the forge is distinguished by the quiet of graveyards and flat lines of endless landscape with a few stray cows, London is a mass of noise, filth and jumbled buildings that allows no vistas at all.

Each physical structure in this novel seems to reflect its occupant/owner. Joe's forge is a place of honest work, physical strength and warmth. Satis House reflects Miss Havisham. It is decrepit, worn out, aged and hollow. And now we have Jaggers's office. There is death in the office, and instruments of pain and evidence of fear. How perfect is the description of the wall where it is described as being "greasy with shoulders." When we recall the aggressive and assertive finger of Mr Jaggers and the way he challenged some of the patrons of the Three Jolly Bargemen, there is no doubt that his London office reflects his agressive personality.

When the London tour of Pip begins with Newgate Prison we are looped back to Chapter 1 of GE where the novel opened with a criminal. I do not think this is a coincidence but another instance of Dickens creating a clear and persistent motif of crime, criminals, violence and punishment in the novel. In his early introduction London Pip also sees where people "were publically whipped" and comes to the conclusion that "this was horrible, and gave me a sickening idea of London." Pip learns that London has a gallows and that hangings are a routine event. Again, if we reflect back to the opening chapters, we recall Pip as he watched the escape convict run into the mists he was framed by a beacon and a gibbet. Good and evil. Light and death. Again and again these images come swirling into our awareness. Consider as a last example when Pip steps out of Jagger's office and into Smithfield's in Chapter 20. Pip tells us "I saw the great black dome of Saint Paul's bulging out at me from behind a grim stone building which a bystander said was Newgate Prison." The church and the prison are the London manifestations of the beacon and the gibbet of the earlier chapters. Pip has aged in years, but it seems that his world is still encased within the same symbols.

How much of a stretch is it to see the world of the forge and the world of London as being more similar than dissimilar? Crime and criminals, punishment and death. How different is the aggressive "bringing up by hand" of Mrs Joe towards Pip and Joe from that of Jaggers and the way he intimidates and bullies his clients? In fact, when we consider the articles and artifacts of Miss Havisham's room that mark and preserve her past how different are they really than the death masks, a rusty pistol and a sword that are markers of Jaggers past life and career.

It is initially evident that London will not be the answer to Pip's desire to break from his past. To what extent he can find within London the answers as to how to become a gentleman remains to be seen.

Mary Lou wrote: "I quite like Herbert. He seems to be such a natural, self-effacing type - perhaps in contrast to what we've seen of Pip's darker side."

That's an intriguing idea: Herbert as a foil of Pip, and an idea of what Pip could have been like if only his childhood had been filled with more love and understanding. I venture to say that Pocket senior is probably a better father than Mrs. Joe was as a mother figure.

In this context, it's also interesting that the first fight Pip and Herbert had went in favour of Pip.

I really love the detailed introductions to the chapters by Tristram and Kim. They make me look at details I had missed on my initial reading.

I also am pleased that we decided on a slow reading so I can re-read sections and savor the language and the details as other posters here bring them to my attention. There's so much I find that I have missed and would have stayed missed but for the wonderful comments so many people here make that focus me on all the fine points of Dickens.

I had, for example, skimmed over the description of Jaggers's office, but when Tristram copied it in above I read it slowly and careful, and with that and Peter's comment the details start to have much greater meaning.

And Mary Lou and then Peter pulling together the criminal/prison aspects of this and the earlier sections, the gibbet against the hangings in Newgate, the prisoner escaped against the prisoners confined in Newgate, the hulks and the hulking walls of the London prison, and Mary Lou's point about prisons in Satis house and in so many minds, the loops and whirls in this book are just astonishing once people help me see them.

And these are only the beginning comments on Pip's new London adventure!

What a fantastic group we have here.

Thank you so much! And as for us being a fantastic group, I so, so, so agree.

Thanks for your post, Everyman, because I was actually asking myself whether I am not giving too much away in my recaps. But your words set me at rest again.

The same for me.

I too look forward to coming to the Three Jolly Bargemen every day to met unique, interesting, and good people. You all make me laugh, think, and reflect on both our readings and my own life.

To be honest, I worried that in my retirement my world would shrink. Just the opposite. I now have new friends from around the world who share my loves and passions. Thank you all.

Peter wrote: "To be honest, I worried that in my retirement ..."

And now you have so much more time to get ready for Christmas! :-)

"You infernal scoundrel, how dare you tell me that?"

Chapter 20

John McLenan

1861

Harper's Weekly

Text Illustrated:

“Here’s Mike,” said the clerk, getting down from his stool, and approaching Mr. Jaggers confidentially.

“Oh!” said Mr. Jaggers, turning to the man, who was pulling a lock of hair in the middle of his forehead, like the Bull in Cock Robin pulling at the bell-rope; “your man comes on this afternoon. Well?”

“Well, Mas’r Jaggers,” returned Mike, in the voice of a sufferer from a constitutional cold; “arter a deal o’ trouble, I’ve found one, sir, as might do.”

“What is he prepared to swear?”

“Well, Mas’r Jaggers,” said Mike, wiping his nose on his fur cap this time; “in a general way, anythink.”

Mr. Jaggers suddenly became most irate. “Now, I warned you before,” said he, throwing his forefinger at the terrified client, “that if you ever presumed to talk in that way here, I’d make an example of you. You infernal scoundrel, how dare you tell ME that?”

The client looked scared, but bewildered too, as if he were unconscious what he had done."

"Say another word — one single word — and Wemmick shall give you your money back"

Chapter 20

F. A. Fraser

c. 1877

Text Illustrated:

"At length, as I was looking out at the iron gate of Bartholomew Close into Little Britain, I saw Mr. Jaggers coming across the road towards me. All the others who were waiting saw him at the same time, and there was quite a rush at him. Mr. Jaggers, putting a hand on my shoulder and walking me on at his side without saying anything to me, addressed himself to his followers.

First, he took the two secret men.

“Now, I have nothing to say to you,” said Mr. Jaggers, throwing his finger at them. “I want to know no more than I know. As to the result, it’s a toss-up. I told you from the first it was a toss-up. Have you paid Wemmick?”

“We made the money up this morning, sir,” said one of the men, submissively, while the other perused Mr. Jaggers’s face.

“I don’t ask you when you made it up, or where, or whether you made it up at all. Has Wemmick got it?”

“Yes, sir,” said both the men together.

“Very well; then you may go. Now, I won’t have it!” said Mr Jaggers, waving his hand at them to put them behind him. “If you say a word to me, I’ll throw up the case.”

"Mr. Jaggers and his Clients"

Chapter 20

Frederic W. Pailthorpe

1900

Garnett Edition
Text Illustrated:

Very well. Then you have done all you have got to do. Say another word—one single word—and Wemmick shall give you your money back.”

This terrible threat caused the two women to fall off immediately. No one remained now but the excitable Jew, who had already raised the skirts of Mr. Jaggers’s coat to his lips several times.

“I don’t know this man!” said Mr. Jaggers, in the same devastating strain: “What does this fellow want?”

“Ma thear Mithter Jaggerth. Hown brother to Habraham Latharuth?”

“Who’s he?” said Mr. Jaggers. “Let go of my coat.”

The suitor, kissing the hem of the garment again before relinquishing it, replied, “Habraham Latharuth, on thuthpithion of plate.”

“You’re too late,” said Mr. Jaggers. “I am over the way.”

Commentary:

Once Jaggers has announced that Pip has come into "Great Expectations," and Pip has prepared for his coach ride to London by purchasing a made-to-measure suit at Trabbs' shop in the village, he bids farewell to Joe and Biddy at the forge. His introduction to the metropolis through the characters of Jaggers, his clerk, Wemmick, and several suspicious-looking street people who are clients initiates Pip and the reader into the second phase of the novel. Pailthorpe had plenty of precedents upon which to draw, although he is not likely to have seen either McLenan's Harper's Weekly or Eytinge's Diamond Edition (1867) versions.

Jaggers

Chapter 20

Sol Eytinge

Fifth illustration for Dickens's Great Expectations in A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations in the Ticknor & Fields (Boston, 1867) Diamond Edition.

Commentary:

"Arriving in London from his village on the Marshes, Pip begins to understand the arcane ways of the "Modern Babylon," his initiation to "the immensity of London" beginning through Smithfield Market to Jaggers' offices in Little Britain via a brief carriage ride. In the office and in Batholomew Close, prospective clients of none too savoury aspect await Jaggers' return from court. He is of a peculiar class of English lawyers known until 1873 as "attorneys"; that is, although he is not a barrister, he is permitted to advocate for petty criminals in the lower courts. According to the red-eyed Jew loitering in the Close and muttering to himself, Jaggers is a superior advocate, other attorneys being mere "Cat's meat-men," that is, purveyors of old meat of the kind fit only only for cats. Jaggers, crossing the street into Little Britain, encounters several clients before he meets the agent for his cousin, a pawnbroker accused of knowingly having received stolen property ("plate") named Abraham Lazarus.

Although Harper's illustrator John McLenan dramatises a scene between a client ("a man in a velveteen fur cap") and the attorney in his offices in "You infernal scoundrel, how dare you tell me that!" (23 February 1861), the small scale of that illustration does not give nearly so strong a sense of the criminal attorney as Eytinge's study of Jaggers in his "supreme indifference" as he leaves the supplicant "dancing on the pavement as if it were red hot." Clearly, then, this is the moment that Eytinge is realising in the illustration:

.........'I don't know this man!' said Mr. Jaggers, in the same devastating strain: 'What does this fellow want?'

'Ma thear Mithter Jaggerth. Hown brother to Habraham Latharuth?'

'Who's he?' said Mr. Jaggers. 'Let go of my coat."

The suitor, kissing the hem of the garment again before relinquishing it, replied, 'Habraham Latharuth, on thuthpithion of plate.'

'You're too late,' said Mr. Jaggers. 'I am over the way.'

"Holy father, Mithter Jaggerth!' cried my excitable acquaintance, turning white, 'don't thay you're again Habraham Latharuth!'

'I am,' said Mr. Jaggers, 'and there's an end of it. Get out of the way.' [Chapter 20]

Pip and the reader have already been introduced to Jaggers some chapters previous, when the attorney interrogates the "Boy of the neighbourhood" (ch. 11) whom Miss Havisham has invited to play with Estella at Satis House:

'Whom have we here?' asked the gentleman, stopping and looking at me.

'A boy,' said Estella.

He was a burly man of an exceedingly dark complexion, with an exceedingly large head and a corresponding large hand. He took my chin in his large hand and turned up my face to have a look at me by the light of the candle. He was prematurely bald on the top of his head, and had bushy black eyebrows that wouldn't lie down but stood up bristling. His eyes were set very deep in his head, and were disagreeably sharp and suspicious. He had a large watchchain, and strong black dots where his beard and whiskers would have been if he had let them. He was nothing to me, and I could have had no foresight then, that he ever would be anything to me, but it happened that I had this opportunity of observing him well." [Chapter 11]

Whereas McLenan's Jaggers is tall, lighter-haired, and somewhat full in the face, Eytinge's is much more faithful to this description in that he is "burly" and stolid, with deep-set eyes, extensive eyebrows, and a conspicuous watch-fob. More significantly, Eytinge gives him a determined, interior gaze that betokens the enigmatic attorney's singular ability to shut out entirely whatever and whomever he does not wish to deal with as with his left hand he dismisses the supplicant without expending much energy or emotion. Here, indeed, is a fully self-contained pillar of a man capable of keeping a great many secrets, and of employing information to his own advantage. Unfortunately, young Marcus Stone chose not to include Jaggers in his illustrations for the 1862 Library Edition, and F. A. Fraser in his twenty-eight illustrations for the Household Edition included only two rather mediocre renderings of the criminal attorney who knits together so many strands of the complex plot. One of these scenes makes an interesting vehicle for contrasting the greater — and more prosaic — realism of Fraser with the telling character study of Eytinge, "Say another word — one single word — and Wemmick shall give you your money back", since it dramatizes a moment very close to the one which the earlier illustrator has realized so effectively, despite the comparative lack of detail."

Kim wrote: ""Mr. Jaggers and his Clients"

Chapter 20

Frederic W. Pailthorpe

1900

Garnett Edition
Text Illustrated:

Very well. Then you have done all you have got to do. Say another word—one single word—an..."


Again, thanks for the illustrations Kim!

With words, it is hard to get the full impact of this scene. To see someone actually kissing the coat is truly distressing.

Tristram wrote: "Thanks for your post, Everyman, because I was actually asking myself whether I am not giving too much away in my recaps. But your words set me at rest again."

Not at all, Tristram; I love the recaps! They not only help to jog my memory but, like Everyman said, you all mention things that I may not have necessarily noticed. For example, I somehow completely zoned out during the mention of all Wemmick's mourning rings, until that segment was quoted in the chapter summary. I definitely appreciate the time and effort you all put in.

Tristram wrote: "Thanks for your post, Everyman, because I was actually asking myself whether I am not giving too much away in my recaps. But your words set me at rest again."

Since we all have the option to have read the chapters before starting to read the comments, I don't see how you can give anything away that shouldn't be given away. And for those who have read a bit ahead, in addition to the super recap, it's a great reminder of what was covered in those particular chapters so we can avoid inadvertent spoilers.

And of course this applies to Kim's introductions as well as yours; I just happened to post on your day instead of hers. But both are one of the main things (the other being the great group of people assembled) that makes this such a wonderful group.

I never even noticed who's day it was. Thanks, a lot.

Kim wrote: "Peter wrote: "To be honest, I worried that in my retirement ..."

And now you have so much more time to get ready for Christmas! :-)"

No, with the exception of leap years, there is always the same amount of time to get ready for Christmas ;-)

Peter wrote: "I now have new friends from around the world who share my loves and passions. Thank you all. "

I do feel the same way!

I think that Pailhorpe's Jaggers is the most convincing one since he seems to have the right age, is not too stout and not too feeble and altogether appears like a man who is very sure about himself. I am quite appalled by Eytinge's picture because he does not really give a proper face to the client, and his Jaggers is somehow too "burly" for me. I have not pictured Jaggers that way. Apart from that, I like about Pailthorpe that he really gives us the whole surroundings, throngs of people, street and everything, which produces a very lively effect. The same could be said with reference to the Fraser illustration, unless those characters were so much like wax figures.

I also very much appreciate the recaps, for two main reasons. One, because it makes me focus on areas I maybe had noticed when reading, but now, when I read them again, appreciate even more - especially with the comments made by either Tristram or Kim. Two, more mundanely, because it reminds me of exactly which parts we are discussing, so I don't inadvertently reveal a spoiler or discuss something from far earlier! I too am appreciating this slow contemplative pace, and try to keep to it. But I may well read a chapter on a different day from this thread!

What I additionally noticed about chapter 20, was the grime and squalor of London which impresses itself upon Pip. First of all, he is overcome by the heat and oppression of Mr. Jaggers's stuffy office on a hot summer day, and takes a turn in Smithfield of all places!

You may remember from an earlier novel, the description of Smithfield Market with all the slaughtering of the animals, suffering in such a sorry state. The press reports from the time talked of routine cruelty, but here Dickens just refers to it as a "shameful place, being all asmear with filth and fat and blood and foam" and he turns from this in relief to find himself in .... Newgate prison! A "minister of justice" describes various scenes there with considerable relish, which Pip find "horrible" and he has begun to have "a sickening idea of London".

I had forgotten all this! There certainly is a side of London which Victorian novelists too often gloss over - and many adaptations prettify it too - but not Dickens himself!

I'd forgotten too, the rather unfortunate depiction of a Jewish man. I know Dickens attempted to conciliate people who had been averse to his portrayal of Fagin, by making a positive Jewish character in Our Mutual Friend, but this figure of fun seems far more pathetic to me. Far from laughing I was wincing, and yes, the kissing of the gown was disturbing.

Jean wrote: "What I additionally noticed about chapter 20, was the grime and squalor of London which impresses itself upon Pip. First of all, he is overcome by the heat and oppression of Mr. Jaggers's stuffy of..."

I'm not sure there is anything to this but Jean's comments have me thinking back to the early forge chapters. There, the cows seem to go about their cow-like lives. Yes, they see Pip, but each goes their own way. Peace and tranquility exists.

When Pip goes to London his first experiences are seeing where men are whipped and hanged and then he experiences all the distress of Smithfield Market Which is a place of " filth and fat and blood and foam." The rural somewhat languid world of the forge extends even to its cows. In London, however, there is blood, foam, and death. Is this Dickens offering us a caution and a warning of what Pip will experience in the next stage of his expectations?

Peter wrote: "here, the cows seem to go about their cow-like lives. Yes, the see Pip, but each goes their own way. Peace and tranquility exists.

When Pip goes to London his first experiences are seeing where men are whipped and hanged and then he experiences all the distress of Smithfield Market Which is a place of " filth and fat and blood and foam."."

Yes, even when cows are butchered in the country, it seems as though it would be a lot cleaner and, somehow, nicer.

London is really a nasty place, as Dickens presents it (even though he loved it as a city), and in reality it was, with all the coal smoke in the air, ash everywhere, raw sewage dumped into the Thames (and wait until we get to the opening scene of Our Mutual Friend), and basically noise, filth, and squalor almost everywhere.

I, too, see the countryside and Pip's first impressions of London as slightly contrasting, although we should maybe not forget that the first glimpse of the marshes we get is the graveyard and later the vista of horizontal lines of different colours that were only interrupted by two vertical lines, the gallows and the beacon. Nevertheless, Pip's London impressions are clearly disheartening and disappointing and they may foreshadow that his expectations might not be really very great after all. It might even be meaningful that one of the first places Pip visits is a cattle market.

The river will have bodies too. This is mentioned in BH.

The comparison between the marshes with its gibbet and London with its gallows, whippings, and hordes of people is interesting. The Marshes are bleak and surreal and ghostly and quiet, while London is savage, noisy, and a perversion of the human spirit.

When Wemmick, who like Pip is a London immigrant but one who has had time to adjust and transform to his surroundings, tells Pip one may get "cheated, robbed, or murdered in London," Pip thinks the cause is bad blood which Wemmick quickly and matter-of-factly corrects: "They'll do it if there is anything to be got by it," and worse, Wemmich sees no difference between the two. Nothing personal about London; it's all business. Pip has definitely gone from bad to worse. Will he be transformed as Wemmick was?

Why is Jaggers at Satis House? Is he Miss Havisham's solicitor? Given all we know about him and her, why would she permit his presence? Even without Miss Havisham's misandry, I find it difficult for her to accept him. Havisham likes to surround herself with sycophants, and I can't see him being one. But I haven't seen his behavior in the presence of a wealthy client yet. Still, I wonder if there isn't something more sinister going on with those two.

Tristram wrote: "we should maybe not forget that the first glimpse of the marshes we get is the graveyard and later the vista of horizontal lines of different colours that were only interrupted by two vertical lines,."

Whereas London is almost all vertical lines of uniform (black soot) color.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Why is Jaggers at Satis House? Is he Miss Havisham's solicitor? Given all we know about him and her, why would she permit his presence? Even without Miss Havisham's misandry, I find it difficult fo..."

Jaggers is definitely too independend of mind and manners to curry much favour with Miss Havisham, and so my only idea is that he must be the lady's solicitor. We have seen how good a solicitor he seems to be, and therefore it's very likely for Miss Havisham to employ him.

I echo many of thoughts posted in this thread for chapters 20-21. Pip has come to London under the pretense that along with his new and improved appearance and education, an upscale life was soon to follow. Unfortunately, this is not the case currently. Pip arrives within city limits only to be surrounded by: city filth, visible hay on the streets to silence the hooves of the horses, tight knit buildings, inhabitants of London's underbelly, etc. Pip, has migrated from the open air of country life to the dirty and suffocating air of city death.

Mr. Jaggers's own high-backed chair was of deadly black horse-hair, with rows of brass nails round it, like a coffin;...Death and finality is what I gathered from Mr. Jagger's office and its aesthetics. He's a man who deals in extremes...Guilt vs Innocence...Death sentence vs Life and Freedom. In general, Mr. Jaggers is a no nonsense man, he does not have the time or patience for idle chit chat, a man on a mission to do his job well and get handsomely rewarded for it.

As I read about Wemmick's physical description, I couldn't make heads or tails of his appearance. Obviously, he looks as if he's been carved out of a piece of wood with dull features, but what does it mean to have post office of a mouth...a mechanical appearance of smiling? I'm picturing Pinnochio...

Tristram wrote: "Dear Fellow-Curiosities,

Although our reading pace is rather slow this time – something I actually enjoy –, we have already reached the Second Stage of Pip’s Expectations. And, strangely, these ex..."

...because Herbert Pocket is none other but the pale young gentleman he gave a jolly good thrashing at Miss Havisham’s.
I loved it when they caught each other by surprise, taking a few minutes to realize who one another is...Dickens' is a small world, after all?!

Ami wrote: "what does it mean to have post office of a mouth...a mechanical appearance of smiling? I'm picturing Pinnochio.."

I had trouble with that one, too, but I think a marionette or ventriloquist's dummy is probably a good guess! Maybe he has those lines people get down from the corners of their mouths, but I think of him as being a younger man (30s?) so maybe not.

Mary Lou wrote: "Ami wrote: "what does it mean to have post office of a mouth...a mechanical appearance of smiling? I'm picturing Pinnochio.."

I had trouble with that one, too, but I think a marionette or ventrilo..."

You hit the nail on the head for me...thank you! I can "see" him! :)

Ami wrote: "I'm picturing Pinnochio... "

I'm picturing an at first sight less inviting version of Mr. Bagnet from Bleak House ;-)

Mary Lou wrote: "Ami wrote: "what does it mean to have post office of a mouth...a mechanical appearance of smiling? I'm picturing Pinnochio.."

I had trouble with that one, too, but I think a marionette or ventrilo..."

I actually thought him a bit older, at least in his forties, but later events make it likely for him to be younger. Reading Dickens sometimes makes me feel like a child, who also gives most people a much higher age than they actually have - because most Dickens characters are so quirky.

I tried looking up "post office of a mouth" and got a surprised amount of links to "Mouth Of Wilson Post Office".

"Mouth of Wilson is an unincorporated community, in Grayson County in the U.S. state of Virginia, just north of the North Carolina state line. The name Mouth of Wilson originates from a young surveyor named Wilson, who died and was buried in a creek while surveying the line between Virginia and North Carolina in 1749. The creek was henceforth known as the Wilson Creek, the mouth of which empties into the New River where the town was established."

I never heard of the place before, although there would be many, many places in America I have never heard of before. I had never heard of Friday Harbor until I joined here.