The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Hi Fellow-Curiosities,

I’m afraid that this week’s recaps will not afford very much pleasure to you all since Pip’s behaviour is growing more and more despicable – so much so that I was really made to cringe when I read Chapters 27 to 29. It’s quite good that we have a very slow reading space so that you won’t get the recaps of Pip’s shameful behaviour all at once!

Chapter 27 opens with a letter from Biddy addressed to Pip, in which she tells him of Joe’s impending visit in London in the company of Mr. Wopsle. Biddy tells Pip that his sister is not any worse, but neither any better and that they often sit together in the kitchen discussing Pip’s prospects, which she hopes is not too much of a liberty. She also says that Joe wants her to include the words what larks in her letter, which she does now, although she is not too sure about what they are supposed to mean. When reading that letter, I could not help wondering at the quite reverential tone in which it was written, e.g. the passage when Biddy says she hopes talking about Pip will not be considered as a liberty by him, and the fact that she apostrophizes him as “Mr. Pip”.

Do you think that Biddy is really so much in awe of Pip, or that she simply does it for propriety’s sake? Or maybe, that she uses this submissive tone tongue-in-cheek?

Pip’s reaction to her letter and the announcement of Joe’s visit is very ignoble:

”Not with pleasure, though I was bound to him by so many ties; no; with considerable disturbance, some mortification, and a keen sense of incongruity. If I could have kept him away by paying money, I certainly would have paid money. My greatest reassurance was that he was coming to Barnard’s Inn, not to Hammersmith, and consequently would not fall in Bentley Drummle’s way. I had little objection to his being seen by Herbert or his father, for both of whom I had a respect; but I had the sharpest sensitiveness as to his being seen by Drummle, whom I held in contempt. So, throughout life, our worst weaknesses and meannesses are usually committed for the sake of the people whom we most despise.”

However despicable Pip’s reservations seem, the narrator, i.e. Pip the elder, makes no secret of them but lays bare to the reader’s eye even the basest impulses of his soul at that time. What can we infer from the frankness of the narrative voice?

Pip then tells us of Joe’s visit in Barnard Inn, a visit that, all in all, is not very successful and that rather shows Joe as the more noble spirit of the two. As we know Joe from his encounter with Miss Havisham, he is very nervous, which is shown by his putting his hat in awkward places so that it keeps falling to the ground in the middle of their conversation, in his turning his hat in his hands all the time and in his calling Pip sir. While Herbert, who is present during the first part of the meeting, does everything to loosen up any tension that might be in the situation, just by being himself, Pip shows anything but gracious behaviour, and when Herbert has left, he even remonstrates with Joe for calling him sir.

We also learn some news from Joe, e.g. that everybody at home is still the way they used to be, except Mr. Wopsle, who has now taken up acting professionally and left his position in the Church. Joe has been at one of Wopsle’s performances and was not too impressed. Neither is he very impressed with Pip and Herbert’s accommodation in Barnard’s Inn, and he voices his judgment in his typical way:

”’Your servant, Sir,’ said Joe, ‘which I hope as you and Pip’—here his eye fell on the Avenger, who was putting some toast on table, and so plainly denoted an intention to make that young gentleman one of the family, that I frowned it down and confused him more—‘I meantersay, you two gentlemen,—which I hope as you get your elths in this close spot? For the present may be a werry good inn, according to London opinions,’ said Joe, confidentially, ‘and I believe its character do stand it; but I wouldn’t keep a pig in it myself,—not in the case that I wished him to fatten wholesome and to eat with a meller flavor on him.’”

Ironically, but most definitely without any intention, Joe picks up the pig metaphor again, thus reverting to the kind of reference Uncle Pumblechook and Mr. Wopsle made during that memorable Christmas dinner. Do you see any deeper meaning here, or is this just pure coincidence?

Another interesting detail can be seen in Joe and Mr. Wopsle’s visiting the “Blacking Ware’us”, which afforded little interest to them, however. Is this a private joke of Dickens’s, or the trace of a childhood trauma? After all, Dickens was made to work in a Blacking Warehouse as a child, a fact that was only known to his friend John Forster.

Joe also informs Pip that Estella is back at Miss Havisham’s now, and that she has requested to see him again. Pip’s old friend seems to sense that he is not really welcome at Barnard’s Inn, and that’s why he politely, but firmly refuses to return for dinner and says that it’s better for Pip and himself not to be seen together in London because it’s just not right. What do you make of Joe’s behaviour, and especially of the following words, which are taken from his parting speech?

”’[…] It ain’t that I am proud, but that I want to be right, as you shall never see me no more in these clothes. I’m wrong in these clothes. I’m wrong out of the forge, the kitchen, or off th’ meshes. You won’t find half so much fault in me if you think of me in my forge dress, with my hammer in my hand, or even my pipe. You won’t find half so much fault in me if, supposing as you should ever wish to see me, you come and put your head in at the forge window and see Joe the blacksmith, there, at the old anvil, in the old burnt apron, sticking to the old work. I’m awful dull, but I hope I’ve beat out something nigh the rights of this at last. […]’”

Parting, Joe touches Pip gently on his forehead, which leaves our hero so perplexed that it is too late when he recovers from his reveries and tries to keep Joe from going.

Chapter 28 again finds Pip in his newly-acquired arrogance, and so when he starts preparations for his journey, he begins to invent thousands of reasons why he should not stay at Joe’s but rather at the Blue Boar. He also ponders on whether to take his page – interestingly, he refers to his servant as an Avenger – with him, or not. On the one hand, he pictures how impressed everyone would be by seeing his servant, and he thinks that he might even intimidate Trabb’s boy but then he also fears that Trabb’s boy might strike up a friendship with his page and tell him about his master’s earlier years at the forge. Pip’s primary reason for leaving the Avenger at home, though, is his apprehension that Miss Havisham, on hearing about the page, might not like the expense Pip runs into.

What do you think Pip’s reasoning betrays about the change his character has undergone?

While we have been asking ourselves this question, Pip’s journey has started, and to his dismay, he finds that two convicts are on the coach as well, as at that time, convicts were sometimes transferred from one place to another on passenger coaches. Pip’s memories are stirred by the fact that once again, he is brought into contact with convicts, but his terror really starts when he notices that one of the two convicts is none other but the mysterious stranger that once sat with Joe and himself in the Three Jolly Bargemen and gave the two one-pound-notes to him. He is quite happy that Herbert, on parting, calls him by his new name of Handel, for the stranger has not yet recognized him, but all the way, he is sitting right behind Pip, ”with his breath on the hair of my head.” Pip also listens to the man telling his fellow-convict the story of how he once gave a little boy two pound-notes from a fellow-convict, who was sentenced for life for having, again, tried to flee. Pip is so distraught by his fears of the convict recognizing him that he prematurely leaves the coach and walks the rest of the way. Arriving at the Blue Boar, he is recognized by the waiter, who is taken slightly aback by Pip’s refusing to sending for Mr. Pumblechook first and who shows him an old and tattered copy of a newspaper article in which Mr. Pumblechook is praised for having founded the fortunes of young Pip.

Tristram wrote: "Do you think that Biddy is really so much in awe of Pip, or that she simply does it for propriety’s sake? Or maybe, that she uses this submissive tone tongue-in-cheek?"

I'd say propriety's sake. My thought is that she was just following the social etiquette of the times.

Without going into detail (I'm pleading the 5th and refusing to incriminate myself!) Recent events have caused me to feel some kinship with Pip these days, and have a better understanding of what it's like to dread a meeting between people whose opinions one values with family members who are an embarrassment. In my case, a few of my in-laws are not just poor and simple, but good people like Joe. They are dishonest, unethical, and a whole list of other unflattering adjectives. So that's how I justify it. But my feelings are just the same as Pip's - ashamed. Funny how Dickens has a way of smacking a person in the face with her own short-comings.

Tristram wrote: " he is very nervous, which is shown by his putting his hat in awkward places so that it keeps falling to the ground in the middle of their conversation, in his turning his hat in his hands all the time and in his calling Pip sir. ."

Surely I'm not the only one who immediately thought of this while reading about Joe's hat! I can't help but think that Frank Capra and Jimmy Stewart had Joe's hat scene in mind when they filmed this!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLHwS...

I was struck by the way Pip discusses his boy servant: "I had even started a boy in boots -- top boots--in bondage and slavery:....I had made this monster (out of the refuse of my washer-woman's famiy",

This young boy, a "avenging phantom" "haunts" Pip's existence.

I wonder if he's an apparition of guilt. Pip is struggling between his awareness of the disparity between his past and his present.

Note that when Pip eats with Joem Joe mentions the inn where he's staying and says that "I wouldn't keep a pig in it myself---not in the case that I wished him to fatten wholesome and to eat with a meller flavour on him".

Pip as pig again! I recall that he's compared to one in a very early chapter.

Chapter 27

Tristram, you are so right. After reading this chapter it is hard for me to like Pip at all. When Pip says that if he "could have kept [Joe] away by paying money, I certainly would have paid money" it was the low point of my respect for Pip. And to think that the idea of paying money is mentioned twice in such a short span of time. Pip is now seeing money as the way to solve problems; little does he yet know that money can be the cause of even more problems in life than poverty. Consider the characters in the novel so far. Joe is happy but certainly neither wealthy or desiring to be wealthy. Miss Havisham has wealth. It does her little good. Pumblechook is successful but money has not improved his personality. Rather it has shown how much of toady he is. From the dinner party at Jaggers home it appears that he is at least comfortable, and yet a main concern of his is whether he has been paid. Money is a central focus in life. True, Wemmick councils Pip to always seek portable property, but the Walworth Wemmick is, to a degree, a man of a different mindset. Ironically, it is Jaggers who also tells Pip that money can be a curse, and predicts Pip will spend too much and fall into debt.

Money. Does it equal power, or does it lead to an impoverished personality? I have the feeling much is yet to come.

Peter wrote: "Money. Does it equal power, or does it lead to an impoverished personality?"

Which brings us to the frequently misquoted Bible verse, "Money is the root of all evil."

This quote, as I'm sure many of you know, is taken out of context. The full sentence from 1 Timothy 6:10 is: "For the LOVE OF money is the root of all evil" (emphasis mine).

Of course, one can be a great philanthropist with money, and help innumerable people and causes (as Mr. Dickens did). Pip has learned neither frugality, nor altruism. He's providing a job for someone, but it's all with the intent of puffing up his own ego. There's no real need, and I feel sure the Avenger doesn't feel as if his job provides anything useful to the world, or even to Pip.

In message 5 above Natalie mentions that Pip has been referred to as a pig again. It is one of Dickens's traits to draw a symbol or an emblem throughout a novel and thus allow his readers to experience such references and create a heightened reading experience.

Another emblem is emerging in Chapter 27. Dickens writes that Pip "heard Joe, on the staircase. I knew it was Joe by his clumsy manner of coming up-stairs -- his state boots being always too big for him." First, this passage is interesting in that we now have Pip judging another by the state of their boots, just as Estella once judged Pip on the basis of his boots.

Equally important is the act of ascending the stairs in Pip's residence because we have seen this occur before. In Chapter XXI as Pip awaits his first meeting with Matthew Pocket Dickens writes "...I heard footsteps on the stairs. Gradually there arose before me the hat, head, neck-cloth, waistcoat, trousers, boots, of a member of society of about my own standing." (my italics.). There are two important events here. The first is we see how Pip now initially judges people by their clothing. The second, and equally important, is how Dickens is formulating a pattern of introducing characters to Pip by coming up the stairs and entering into his room. Pip watches and judges both Herbert and Joe by their clothes as they move towards him. In each of the staircase incidents Pip, through conversation, comes to a new realization of the character in his chambers. In the first incidence it is the fact that Pip has already met Herbert who is the pale young gentleman of his past. In the second incidence, Joe is introduced by Pepper, the avenging boy, as Mr Gargery. This scene reinforces to the reader that both Pip and Joe have new roles in terms of each other.

And so we have clothes, people ascending staircases to meet with Pip, and new revelations about characters Pip has already met in different circumstances in the past occurring twice.

Dickens does love patterns ...

Peter wrote: "And so we have clothes, people ascending staircases to meet with Pip, and new revelations about characters Pip has already met in different circumstances in the past occurring twice."

Nicely spotted, Peter!

Chapter 28

I am continuously fascinated with how Dickens moves among different narrative voices. At times we have the evolving Pip who has become very unlikeable. Then we have the mature Pip who is reflective, ironic, and, at times, even judgemental about his younger self. On occasion, tucked in between these two first person voices, is an omniscient narrator. Cool and detached, this voice secures our attention, and increases our worry about Pip's life.

I'm still trying to figure out if there is a pattern and a reason to explain why and when each voice is heard. As we move through the novel, and Pip becomes more unlikeable, we must remember that we are also closing the gap between the voice that is recounting his life as it unfolds, and the voice that is commenting on the events of his life in a retrospective manner. What will occur when these two focal points occur? What voice will carry us to the end of the novel? Will it be the omniscient voice or the mature voice of Pip?

As we move further into the London chapters we must be moving closer and closer to a catastrophic event. Much like an oncoming thunderstorm, the clouds are gathering, the early lightning beginning to flash.

Mary Lou wrote: "Tristram wrote: " he is very nervous, which is shown by his putting his hat in awkward places so that it keeps falling to the ground in the middle of their conversation, in his turning his hat in h..."

Thanks for linking that scene, Mary Lou! Jimmy Stewart is one of my favourite actors (although I like him better when he got a bit older), and the hat scene is probably really akin to what is happening here in the novel.

Natalie wrote: "Pip as pig again! I recall that he's compared to one in a very early chapter."

This time, however, it's not done by one of Pip's former adversaries of the Pumblechook stamp, but by Pip's only friend of childhood days - by Joe. Of course, there is no direct comparison but still the link is being made. Does this pig imagery, brought up by one of the good characters now, reflect a change in Pip's character - a lack of thankfulness on Pip's part? I certainly think so because when the pig simile was used the first time, during that Christmas dinner, it came up in connection with young people's (and Pip's) lack of gratefulness, as seen by Uncle P. and company.

There were also allusions made to swine wallowing in the lap of luxury, and the like.

Peter wrote: "In message 5 above Natalie mentions that Pip has been referred to as a pig again. It is one of Dickens's traits to draw a symbol or an emblem throughout a novel and thus allow his readers to experi..."

Brilliant point!

Peter wrote: "When Pip says that if he "could have kept [Joe] away by paying money, I certainly would have paid money" it was the low point of my respect for Pip. And to think that the idea of paying money is mentioned twice in such a short span of time. Pip is now seeing money as the way to solve problems"

What makes Pip even more descipable, at least in my eyes, is not only that he is willing to pay money to avoid seeing Joe and that he thinks he can solve a whole lot of problems by spending money - but that he never even earned that money in the first place. In fact, he does not even know for sure where his money comes from, the continuing of his allowance being dependent on Pip's ignorance as to the source of all that money.

So, all the security and the social rise that Pip thinks he ensures for himself with that money is, frankly speaking, a sham - because he does not know to whom he stands indebted and, secondly, how reliable that source of income is. If I remember correctly, another stipulation made by the unknown benefactor was that Pip was not meant to learn any trade or business but was to be brought up a gentleman - i.e. an idle fellow - so that Pip cannot even use the unexpected money shower to make himself independent and learn to stand on his own feet. Quite on the contrary, Pip is trained to depend on money that was evidently earned by somebody else, trained to be (when all is said and done) some sort of cadger.

Tristram wrote: "Peter wrote: "When Pip says that if he "could have kept [Joe] away by paying money, I certainly would have paid money" it was the low point of my respect for Pip. And to think that the idea of payi..."

Reading this I'll take Mrs. Joe over Pip any day. Unless there is a big change in his behavior which I doubt. And why does it seem to be that to be a "gentleman" you can't learn to do anything? It's silly.

"Pip, how are you, Pip?"

John McLenan

1861

Text Illustrated:

"When at last he stopped outside our door, I could hear his finger tracing over the painted letters of my name, and I afterwards distinctly heard him breathing in at the keyhole. Finally he gave a faint single rap, and Pepper—such was the compromising name of the avenging boy—announced “Mr. Gargery!” I thought he never would have done wiping his feet, and that I must have gone out to lift him off the mat, but at last he came in.

“Joe, how are you, Joe?”

“Pip, how AIR you, Pip?”

With his good honest face all glowing and shining, and his hat put down on the floor between us, he caught both my hands and worked them straight up and down, as if I had been the last-patented Pump.

“I am glad to see you, Joe. Give me your hat.”

But Joe, taking it up carefully with both hands, like a bird’s-nest with eggs in it, wouldn’t hear of parting with that piece of property, and persisted in standing talking over it in a most uncomfortable way. "

"Do you take tea, or coffee, Mr. Gargery?"

F. A. Fraser

1877

Text Illustrated:

"Having borne this flattering testimony to the merits of our dwelling-place, and having incidentally shown this tendency to call me “sir,” Joe, being invited to sit down to table, looked all round the room for a suitable spot on which to deposit his hat,—as if it were only on some very few rare substances in nature that it could find a resting place,—and ultimately stood it on an extreme corner of the chimney-piece, from which it ever afterwards fell off at intervals.

“Do you take tea, or coffee, Mr. Gargery?” asked Herbert, who always presided of a morning.

“Thankee, Sir,” said Joe, stiff from head to foot, “I’ll take whichever is most agreeable to yourself.”

“What do you say to coffee?”

“Thankee, Sir,” returned Joe, evidently dispirited by the proposal, “since you are so kind as make chice of coffee, I will not run contrairy to your own opinions. But don’t you never find it a little ‘eating?”

“Say tea then,” said Herbert, pouring it out.

Here Joe’s hat tumbled off the mantel-piece, and he started out of his chair and picked it up, and fitted it to the same exact spot. As if it were an absolute point of good breeding that it should tumble off again soon.

“When did you come to town, Mr. Gargery?”

“Were it yesterday afternoon?” said Joe, after coughing behind his hand, as if he had had time to catch the whooping-cough since he came. “No it were not. Yes it were. Yes. It were yesterday afternoon” (with an appearance of mingled wisdom, relief, and strict impartiality).

“Have you seen anything of London yet?”

“Why, yes, Sir,” said Joe, “me and Wopsle went off straight to look at the Blacking Ware’us. But we didn’t find that it come up to its likeness in the red bills at the shop doors; which I meantersay,” added Joe, in an explanatory manner, “as it is there drawd too architectooralooral.”

Sorry guys, but I guess the illustrators didn't care for Pip's behavior these two chapters because it seems like they all - with the exception of the above two that is, skipped these chapters.

Kim wrote: "And why does it seem to be that to be a "gentleman" you can't learn to do anything?"

That was just the custom of those days, a gentleman was not really dependent on earning his living but lived of rents and revenues his landed property gave him. I think that was also the problem Mr. Bounderby actually suffered from: He knew he would not really pass as a gentleman amongst the members of the gentry, and that's why he probably went one step further by exaggerating the hardships he had to go through in order to increase the alleged merits of his being a selfmade man.

Fraser did a very good job, though: Just look at the moody expression on Pip's face, which is not even turned to Joe but looks down and away from his old friend. Joe, while not exactly sitting on the edge of the chair, is not using the back of the chair, either, and his posture seems to be expressive of nervousness and a lack of comfort. - The interiors of their apartment are not as scanty as the first description given by Pip would imply. Maybe, Pip's hard-earned money has done something towards furnishing the rooms - but then I don't really understand why Joe should be so critical of the rooms as to say that he would not even raise pigs in them.

From "Charles Dickens, A Critical Study" by George Gissing:

"The "gentleman" Dickens loved to contemplate was -- in echo of Burns's phrase -- he who derives his patent of gentility straight from Almighty God. These he found abundantly among the humble of estate, the poor in spirit; or indulged his fine humanity in the belief that they abounded. A broken squire, reduced to miserly service, but keeping through all faults and misfortunes the better part of his honest and kindly nature; grotesque in person, of fantastic demeanour, but always lovable; -- of this dream comes Newman Noggs. A city clerk, grey in conscientious labour for one house, glorying in the perfection of his ledger, taking it ill if his employers insist on raising his salary; -- the vision is christened Tim Linkinwater. A young man of bumpkinish appearance, shy, ungainly, who has somehow drifted into the household of a country architect; who nourishes his soul at the church organ; who is so good and simple and reverential that years of experience cannot teach him what everyone else sees at a glance -- the hypocritical rascality of his master: he takes shape, and is known to us as Tom Pinch. A village blacksmith, with heart as tender as his thews are tough; delighting above all things in the society of a little child; so dull of brain that he gives up in despair the effort to learn his alphabet; so sweet of temper that he endures in silence the nagging of an outrageous wife; so delicate of sensibility that he perspires at the thought of seeming to intrude upon an old friend risen in life; -- what name can be his but Joe Gargery? These, and many another like unto them, did the master lovingly create, and there would be something of sacrilege in a cold scrutiny of his work. Whether or no their prototypes existed in the hurrying crowd of English life, which obscures so much good as well as evil, these figures have fixed themselves in the English imagination, and their names are part of our language. Dickens saw them, and heard them speak; to us, when we choose to enjoy without criticising, they seem no less present. Every such creation was a good deed; the results for good have been incalculable. Would he have been better occupied, had he pried into each character, revealed its vices, insisted on its sordid weaknesses, thrown bare its frequent hypocrisy, and emphasized its dreary unintelligence? Indeed, I think not. I will only permit myself the regret that he who could come so near to truth, and yet so move the affections, as in Joe Gargery, was at other times content with that inferior idealism which addresses itself only to unripe minds or to transitory moods.......

It may be noted, however, with what frankness Dickens accepts the conventionality of a story told in the first person. David relates in detail conversations which take place before he is born, and makes no apology for doing so. Why should he? The point never occurs to the engrossed reader. In Bleak House, where the same expedient is used (in part), such boldness is not shown, though the convention still demands abundant sacrifice of probability in another way. Finally, in Great Expectations we have a narrative in the first person, which, granting to the narrator nothing less than Dickens's own equipment of genius, preserves verisimilitude with remarkable care, nothing being related, as seen or heard, which could not have been seen or heard by the writer. This instance serves to show that Dickens did become conscious of artistic faults, and set himself to correct them. But, in the meantime, he had touched the culmination of his imaginative life, and a slight improvement in technical correctness could not compensate the world's loss when his characteristic strength began to fail and his natural force to be abated.......

Of an average middle-class family in Dickens's earlier time -- decent, kindly, not unintelligent folk -- we have the best example in the Meagles group, from Little Dorrit. This household may be contrasted with, say, that of the Maylies in Oliver Twist, which is merely immature work, and with the more familiar family circles on which Dickens lavishes his mirth and his benevolence. The Meagles do not much interest us, which is quite right; they are thoroughly realized, and take their place in social history. Well done, too, is the Pocket family in Great Expectations, an interesting pendant to that of the Jellybys in Bleak House; showing how well, when he chose, Dickens could satirize without extravagance. Mrs. Pocket is decidedly more credible than Mrs. Jellyby; it might be urged, perhaps, that she belongs to the Sixties instead of to the Fifties, a point of some importance. The likeness in dissimilitude between these ladies' husbands is very instructive. As for the son, Herbert Pocket, he is a capital specimen of the healthy, right-minded, and fairly-educated middle-class youth. Very skillfully indeed is he placed side by side with Pip; each throwing into relief the other's natural and acquired characteristics. We see how long it will take the blacksmith's foster-child (he telling the tale himself) to reach the point of mental and moral refinement to which Herbert Pocket has been bred.........

It was not by computing the density of the common brain, by gauging the force of vulgar prejudice, that Charles Dickens rose to his supreme popularity. Nature made him the mouthpiece of his kind, in all that relates to simple emotions and homely thought. Who can more rightly be called an artist than he who gave form and substance to the ideal of goodness and purity, of honour, justice, mercy, whereby the dim multitudes falteringly seek to guide their steps? This was his task in life, to embody the better dreams of ordinary men; to fix them as bright realities, for weary eyes to look upon. He achieved it in the strength of a faultless sympathy; following the true instincts which it is so unjust -- so unintelligent -- to interpret as mere commercial shrewdness or dullness of artistic perception. Art is not single; to every great man his province, his mode. During at least one whole generation, Charles Dickens, in the world of literature, meant England. For his art, splendidly triumphant, made visible to all mankind the characteristic virtues, the typical shortcomings, of the homely English race."

Kim wrote: "From "Charles Dickens, A Critical Study" by George Gissing:

"The "gentleman" Dickens loved to contemplate was -- in echo of Burns's phrase -- he who derives his patent of gentility straight from A..."

Thanks Kim

This is a bold, no nonsense argument that places Dickens firmly into the rank of a great author.

I have never read the Gissing biography of Dickens. Yet another treat to get.

Peter wrote: "Kim wrote: "From "Charles Dickens, A Critical Study" by George Gissing:

"The "gentleman" Dickens loved to contemplate was -- in echo of Burns's phrase -- he who derives his patent of gentility str..."

I read it - what I could of it - on gutenberg, but I found it hard to read because there were so many words in so little type, in so many long paragraphs my eyes couldn't take it all in. :-) It must be there somewhere where it is easier on the eyes. Mine anyway.

Kim,

Thanks for these quotations! I just noticed that I have the whole book on my Kindle because I once downloaded the Delphi Collection of Gissing, and this study of Dickens, as yet another one by Gissing, are included.

It made me smile to read that apparently we were not the first ones to see some kind of connection between the Pockets and the Jellybys, although I would not share Gissing's conclusion that Mrs Pocket is more realistic than Mrs Jellyby. If you take Dickens's obvious anti-feminist jab aside, Mrs Jellyby is a good example of the do-gooder activist who makes a lot of noise but achieves very little that our world abounds in.

What I also found interesting is the parallel Gissing draws between Joe Gargery and characters like Tom Pinch, or Newman Noggs - this has never before occurred to me. I think, however, that what Mr. Pocket says - that being a gentleman is dependent on some inner quality - reverberates in any of these characters. I think, all in all, I'll put that study on my reading list.

Tristram wrote: "Do you think that Biddy is really so much in awe of Pip, or that she simply does it for propriety’s sake?."

Propriety. He's now a gentleman, and the working classes call gentlemen "Mr." She's definitely, as far as I'm concerned, not in awe of him, but indeed sees him more clearly than he sees himself.

It's only that Biddy uses the Mr. so often that I couldn't help suspecting she wanted to make fun of him in an arch way ... but it's probably out of character for her.

Tristram wrote: "It's only that Biddy uses the Mr. so often that I couldn't help suspecting she wanted to make fun of him in an arch way ... but it's probably out of character for her."

Well, it's always, as far as I can tell, Mr. Wopsle, never just Wopsle or his first name, so not surprising it would, once he's a gentleman and above even Mr. Wopsle, always Mr. Pip.

Even Mr. Jaggers, from the first time after he tells him he has great expectations, calls him Mr. Pip. That's just what you call gentlemen.

I started reading What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew the other day, and found out that indeed it was only proper for a gentleman to be addressed with Mr., except by his close relatives - and as Biddy was no close relative of Pip's, it's only right for her to call him Mr.

To my modern ears, this sounds ridiculous, though - pretending there never was such a thing as Biddy and Pip learning at school together and the like.

I'm fascinated by all the references back we have in these two chapters - the pig reference Natalie mentioned, and the emblematic boots of Peter - (brilliant post by the way) It also strikes me that the stairs are a metaphor for his rise in society.

We have convicts again - and shackled, just as Pip is shackled in his new life. Joe's high collar is constraining and imprisoning him. We have the same dreary, gloomy weather during the coach ride which conjures up the early marsh scenes. Pip has taken on "the Avenger" Pepper, and set him up as a servant he can lord it over, and who is compared with Trabb's boy, who used to snub and laugh at him. To cap it all Miss Havisham is set to reappear! These two chapters seem to deliberately throw this new, unlikable Pip, back into the scenes of his origins.

I find Joe's visit so hard to read. Yes, the parts with the hat are as funny a scene as Dickens ever writes, but ... the unbearable pathos tops it somehow. I don't feel quite as condemnatory about Pip as others though, as I feel the narrator is feeling mortified by his earlier priggish self.

Like Peter, I am enjoying the switching and blending of the different voices very much.

I'm not sure of the meaning of "their ironed legs, apologetically garnered with pocket handkerchiefs" in respect of the two convicts. The only other time I can remember pocket handkerchiefs is when Fagin was teaching his boy pickpockets how to steal them. Any ideas?

Kim - Isn't there a way of expanding the default print size on your computer itself? I regularly have mine set at 150%, and if any sites slip back automatically then I can alter it. It means more scrolling, but it's worth it!

This is the section I finished a couple of weeks ago and then failed to post. So, I appreciate your detailed summary, Tristram, so I can have a reminder of where I left off.

Like others have mentioned already, I was disheartened to see the change in Pip in these chapters, especially during his meeting with Joe. Poor Joe, who was Pip's closest and only friend for the most part when he was young. Even though Pip has climbed the ladder to a position of gentleman-in-training, he really is still the same Pip except for the fact that some unknown benefactor has decided to give him wealth. I honestly can't understand how he could be so cold to Joe, reading this scene really just put a big pit in my stomach regarding Pip. At least Herbert tried to put Joe at ease.

I also like the illustration by Fraser. Tristram pointed out some great details that were captured perfectly in that scene.

There have been some really great insights in the comment above regarding recurring themes and imagery. The boot, the stair case its comparison to a rise in society, and I especially appreciated the pig comment and how it seemed to relate to being ungrateful.

Jean wrote: "I'm not sure of the meaning of "their ironed legs, apologetically garnered with pocket handkerchiefs" in respect of the two convicts."

I'm wondering if the handkerchiefs were tucked into the irons so they could have easy access since with their hands chained up they probably would not be able to reach into their pockets? It seems a silly explanation, but it was the only one I could come up with. :)

I thought those handkerchiefs were more in courtesy to the fellow passengers who should be spared the rude sight of chains. You know, à la Ambrose Bierce:

"HANDKERCHIEF, n. A small square of silk or linen, used in various ignoble offices about the face and especially serviceable at funerals to conceal the lack of tears. [...]"

I really don't know! Both interesting ideas though. Yet I can't somehow see the officials bothering about whether convicts had something about them to blow their noses with, Linda. It seems too genteel! And I don't know what "ironed legs" are anyway. Are they little tucks?

Perhaps they could be to conceal the offensive sight of chains as you say Tristram - that seems more plausible. Funny that we've never come across it anywhere before in this context -with Dickdens or any of his contemporaries.

Jean wrote: "I'm fascinated by all the references back we have in these two chapters - the pig reference Natalie mentioned, and the emblematic boots of Peter - (brilliant post by the way) It also strikes me tha..."

I've been thinking about your question concerning the handkerchiefs and the phrase "their ironed legs, apologetically garnered ... " I think we are on the right track. Here is an additional thought. The word "garnered" is an interesting descriptive word. Could the prisoners have stuffed or wrapped handkerchiefs in between the leg iron and their skin? In this way the friction of iron constantly rubbing on bare flesh would be greatly reduced. To an observer, it would appear - who would still know that the prisoner was shackled - that the prisoner's legs were rather colourfully arrayed with cloth.

Linda wrote: "Jean wrote: "I'm not sure of the meaning of "their ironed legs, apologetically garnered with pocket handkerchiefs" in respect of the two convicts."

I'm wondering if the handkerchiefs were tucked i..."

I think your explanation makes lots of sense.

Jean wrote: "I'm fascinated by all the references back we have in these two chapters - the pig reference Natalie mentioned, and the emblematic boots of Peter - (brilliant post by the way) It also strikes me tha..."

Ah, Jean. You have set my mind a-working. I've gone back to the passage with the handkerchiefs and discovered what is (at least to me) some interesting things.

Pip tells us that "more than once" he had seen prisoners dangle "their ironed legs over the coach roof." A few sentences further into the chapter Pip comments that the two convicts he sees at the coach station "had irons on their legs - iron of a pattern that I knew well." Here, we have a definite confirmation that Pip is recalling his own experience with a convict. Later in the chapter comes the reference to the "ironed legs" with the handkerchiefs. Dickens records that the prisoners had a course mangy ungainly outer surface, " as if they were lower animals " (my italics) Later in the chapter we learn that one of the shackled prisoners was the person who gave Pip the two one-pound notes.

So what does all this mean? Well, first, I'm going to suggest that the constant reference to leg shackles first mentioned when Pip meets his convict on the marshes and now in this chapter with other prisoners draws attention to their feet. As suggested, it is possible to see a person's boots as emblematic of their social status. If we consider the constant references to shackles we now have another layer to our analysis of people and their status. Convicts, the lowest strata mentioned in this novel, are shackled, their feet held imprisoned. They are, in Pip's own words, "lower animals." What Pip's own convict wanted more than anything was a file so that he could remove his leg irons, and thus free himself and gain unrestricted movement. Is this all too much speculation?

We shall see ...

Ah it's a play on words perhaps? "Ironed legs" in the sense you are describing, Peter, is of being shackled by iron manacles, but I'd been thinking of "ironed" in the sense of being smoothed out - as implied by the handkerchiefs. But I can't see the significance there really, so I think it's probably mostly the shackled sense. Thanks for finding all those other references too - not to mention the additional insight!

Is "garnered" from the same root as "garnished"? Is it another pig reference? You "garnish" pork, and perhaps the convicts' legs were "decorated" with handkerchiefs as a consequence of fabric being stuffed in there to stop the irons chafing? Maybe not ...

Tristram wrote: "I thought those handkerchiefs were more in courtesy to the fellow passengers who should be spared the rude sight of chains."

OK, that actually makes much more sense than making sure that the convicts could blow their noses! It seemed kind of silly that the people in charge would be sensitive to ensuring they had access to hankies for that reason.

Jean wrote: "Yet I can't somehow see the officials bothering about whether convicts had something about them to blow their noses with, Linda. It seems too genteel!"

Ha ha! I know, it didn't seem right to me when I offered my suggestion. :)

Jean wrote: "Is "garnered" from the same root as "garnished"? Is it another pig reference? You "garnish" pork, and perhaps the convicts' legs were "decorated" with handkerchiefs as a consequence of fabric being..."

Garnered:

verb (used with object)

1. to gather or deposit in or as if in a granary or other storage place.

2. to get; acquire; earn:
He gradually garnered a national reputation as a financial expert.

3. to gather, collect, or hoard.

noun

4. a granary or grain bin.


5. a store or supply of anything.

Garnish
gar·nished, gar·nish·ing, gar·nish·es
1.
a. To enhance in appearance by adding decorative touches; embellish: a coat that was garnished with a fur collar.

b. To decorate (prepared food or drink) with small colorful or savory items: garnished the potatoes with parsley.

2. Law
a. To seize (property such as wages) by garnishment.

b. To serve (someone) with papers announcing the garnishment of that person's property in order to satisfy a debt.

n.
An ornamentation or embellishment, especially one added to a prepared food or drink for decoration or added flavor.

Hope this helps.

Thanks Kim - so it's not really likely then. Which make me wonder why he used "garnered" which doesn't seem to make nearly as much sense. Could Dickens *shock horror* have got the wrong word? Or, more likely, could his editor have altered it?

I didn't understand it either. The word garnered doesn't make sense to me at all.

Jean wrote: "I'm not sure of the meaning of "their ironed legs, apologetically garnered with pocket handkerchiefs" in respect of the two convicts. The only other time I can remember pocket handkerchiefs is when Fagin was teaching his boy pickpockets how to steal them. Any ideas?."

I thought maybe they were srapped around the ankle irons to keep them from rubbing too much and making sores on their ankles. The ironed legs, I assume, meant iron shackles on their legs.

Tristram wrote: "I thought those handkerchiefs were more in courtesy to the fellow passengers who should be spared the rude sight of chains. ."

But Pip sees them several times and comments on them.

Pip sees them, and so do the other passengers, and I think nobody in their right senses on that stage would have failed to notice that the two men were convicts.

But maybe, it was still polite to cover the crudest signs of their status from the eyes of the other passenger, by courtesy, even though everybody saw the obvious. It's like when you come to a place and ask people where you can wash your hands, or freshen up. They all know what you really are asking for and send you to that place.

Tristram wrote: "Chapter 28 again finds Pip in his newly-acquired arrogance, and so when he starts preparations for his journey, he begins to invent thousands of reasons why he should not stay at Joe’s but rather a..."

the quite reverential tone in which it was written, e.g. the passage when Biddy says she hopes talking about Pip will not be considered as a liberty by him, and the fact that she apostrophizes him as “Mr. Pip..."
My thoughts on this reverential tone is same for both Biddy and Joe...They know he no longer fits with the Gargery household. Pip made Biddy aware of how terribly bad he wanted to become a gentleman, and the black current leaf interaction was revealing in the shame Pip felt for Joe as well as Biddy...I don't think that moment was lost on Biddy. Joe must also be aware of the growing distance between Pip and he since Joe is quite in-tuned to people. Joe is probably also aware that he must let Pip do what he will treating him differently because he "is" changed, and "wants" to be changed. Ultimately, both Joe and Biddy are just overtly proud of Pip and his fortunate circumstances ...They are genuinely happy for him and are willing to sacrifice familial niceties for those more reverential.

Parting, Joe touches Pip gently on his forehead, which leaves our hero so perplexed that it is too late when he recovers from his reveries and tries to keep Joe from going.
Oh, Pip, you dolt!! There's something to this reoccurring process for Pip...the act like a fool, realize you've been a fool, and make amends only to realize you're too late act. It's not the first time Pip misses out on being noble, but he's also not listening to himself either. When he left the forge, he wouldn't look back at Joe, then he's at the station and wishes Joe were there with him as his eyes are filling with tears...Why won't this kid share and accept love with those who want to share their love for him? It's painstaking to read.

There were carved garlands on the panelled walls, and as he stood among them giving us welcome, I know what kind of loops I thought they looked like.(Ch 26)

And,

The two convicts were handcuffed together, and had irons on their legs - irons of a pattern that I knew well (Ch 28).

In Ch 26, I didn't know what Pip had likened the carved garlands to, but it seems Mr. Jaggers unlike Wemmick, has brought the essence of his work home as the details of the craftsmanship of his carving resembles the irons worn by convicts?

Ami wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Chapter 28 again finds Pip in his newly-acquired arrogance, and so when he starts preparations for his journey, he begins to invent thousands of reasons why he should not stay at J..."

The passage you cite is painstaking and on the surface it is difficult to find much sympathy for Pip. It is, however, a human mistake and so I do feel sorry for humanity because we are all Pip.

The end of Chapter IX is perhaps too often referred to, but I think with good reason. This is the voice of the mature Pip/ narrator speaking about those moments of iron or gold, thorns or flowers we all face.

Thanks for pointing out the loops and patterns of Ch 26 and iron patterns in Ch 28. I am entrigued with how Dickens weaves his symbols and reflections throughout his novels.

Peter wrote: "Ami wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Chapter 28 again finds Pip in his newly-acquired arrogance, and so when he starts preparations for his journey, he begins to invent thousands of reasons why he should n..."

Peter, Pip's in his 20's now? He's still too influenced by the external diminishing any internal strengths and insights from surfacing. Those thoughts that guide us, his intuition being feeble cannot stand up against the external stimuli Pip's persuaded by, currently. He's troubled, definitely.

I'm going to reread IX again... I'll be back.