Classics and the Western Canon discussion

The original part 5, Chapters 14 - 16, starts by bringing us back with Esther, and the opportunity to spend some time with her, Ada, Richard, and a nice visit with Miss Jellyby (and Peepy) to meet the Turveydrops. As with Mrs. Jellyby and Mrs. Pardiggle, with the elder Mr. Turveydrop we see a personal characteristic which, if practiced in the Aristotelian moderation might be quite acceptable, but is taken to an absurd and socially destructive level. With Mrs. J and P we can see clearly what Dickens is lampooning; what is he lampooning with Mr. T?

Meanwhile, what of this love story between Miss Jellyby and the younger Turveydrop? Is there a chance that they will make a successful marriage? Is this real love, or simply a desperate attempt by Miss J to escape an intolerable life? In an age of arranged marriages, or at least of marriage only with parental consent, is this marriage which has been set up solely by the two young people sufficiently unusual that Dickens is making a social comment here? And can they be happy as a couple with Mr. T and his demands constantly underfoot?

Then to Miss Flite’s, and the doctor is there clearing her to return to court. [And why does Miss Flite call Caddy Fitz-Jarndyce? What, if anything, does she have to do with the case? Is this another mystery we will have to wait to see solved?]

Mr. Woodcourt on Miss Flite: “"She will be as well in a day or two," said Mr. Woodcourt, looking at her with an observant smile, "as she ever will be. In other words, quite well of course.” Am I the only one who reads something more into this than the words alone convey?

What are we to take from the names of Miss Flite’s birds? Clearly in naming them all, and such names, Dickens must mean something. But what? And all are, at this point, cooped up, but all are to be released on the day JvJ is decided. What is the meaning of having all of those values suddenly let loose into the world?

And now the mystery at the end of Chapter 13 is revealed. The dark stranger is Mr. Woodcourt. Hmmm.

In Chapter 15, we get better acquainted with that Mr. Quayle who is so odious to Miss Jellyby (and no wonder) and his friend Mr. Gusher. Ick to both. Compared to them, Mr. Skimpole seems almost noble. It was suggested in a previous post (sorry I forgot who made it) that Dickens gives us contrasting characters, and it seems that Quale and Gusher v. Skimpole are another excellent example of that, as are, a page or two later, and in a different way, Skimpole and Boythorne.

Indeed, Skimpole seems a very convenient character to play off of, doesn’t he? And Dickens plays off him again in the very different responses of Skimpole and Jarndyce to the death of Coavinses. It is typical of Jarndyce, isn’t it? that his first concern should be for the now orphaned young Coavinses, or as we learn Necketts, for whom Skimpole has no care at all.

Dare anybody here admit to a dry eye as we read about the love and courage of Charley? And here we see, don’t we, true philanthropy at work – a landlady willing to forgo her rents, an otherwise angry and irascible Mr. Gridley sweetly watching over the young children. No committing our concern to distant Africans with these folks, but concern for those who need help here and now, and are being given it.

And we meet at home the Mr. Gridley we met earlier in court, and he meets the fellow sufferers-in-Chancery. So far we have met nobody who has ever received a single benefit from Chancery except the lawyers and judges.

And, at the end of it all, here is Skimpole congratulating himself for his beneficence in having given employment to the parent of these children, as though his being deeply in debt becomes a benificent gift to mankind. Is he for real?

Chapter 16. We leave Esther and her past tense accounting of her story for our unnamed narrator and the present. This is a new picture of the normally indolent Lady Dedlock. She flits – and Dickens makes it clear by using the term several times. This seems not consistent with her habitual boredom. Is something afoot?

What is afoot, at first, is a journey into the dark underbelly of London, to Tom-all-alone’s. And here in this place so far removed from the Court of Chancery, Dickens also uses the language of disease, of illness as he did in the first chapter. What is the connecting between that regal court and this foul place? Why, this property is in Chancery! Was this the abode of the original Tom Jarndyce, the Tom Jarndyce who used to stroll into Krook’s, before he killed himself? Jo don’t know, and for now, at least, neither do we. But whatever, it is a ruin in Jarndyce. But it is also Jo’s humble – not to say miserable – home.

(And Dickens plants another dig into foreign philanthropy as Jo brushes off the door-step of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts when he who sits on their doorstep is in such great need. It is little touches like this that, for me, turn Bleak House from good to great.)

Tulkinghorn at his evening’s work doesn’t see a woman gliding by, but Jo does. A servant, or at least so she says – but is she? A woman fascinated to know all about a dead law writer with the name of No Man. From Cook’s Court to Krook’s house to the place of the inquest and finally to the graveyard. A place of pestilence, of deadly stains contaminating her dress, a loathsome place, but still apparently of fascination to her. But this woman, this servant with a white hand and sparking rings, does indeed give Jo more money than he had ever had before – gold. True gold.

Meanwhile Sir Leicester, alone at Chesney Wold, suffering the gout of his ancestors, doesn’t hear the tread on the Ghost’s Walk. (Another “what does that mean” ending we would once have had to wait another month, at least, to get elucidated.)

I feel quite badly for Caddy, for though Mrs. Jellby might be quite the caricature and not very realistic, the situation of older siblings having to play the role of parent to younger siblings is all too common and quite tragic I think when it happens.

I can understand Caddy wanting to escape this situation of neglect, though I worry that her new prospects may not prove to be much an improvement over the Jellby's.

Mr. Turveydrop doesn't seem to be any more responsible or caring for his family than Mrs. Jellby is. But rather he seems to be something of the opposite end of the extreme. Where Mrs. Jellby was too concerned with others (Africa) to pay attention to her own family Mr. Turveydrop is to concerned about himself, and his own ideals of living like a gentleman as he sees it, to the point of making his family sacrifice themselves to support his lifestyle.

One thing I wondered about, why did Caddy think that Esther would be upset with her for becoming better acquainted with Miss Flite?

Another thing I noticed is that Esther does seem to often encounter situations involving children that much like herself have been neglected, badly treated or left to their own devices.

The situation with Charley and her siblings was quite tragic, and I wonder if these encounters also offer some insights into Esther herself. When Mrs. Blinder was telling them of the way in which the children are treated differently and ostracized for their father's profession because he was a Folller (which it took me a while to try and find what that meant, but the best I can deduce it is a debt collector/repossession man) it made me think of the mystery of Esther's own parentage and what a scandal her own birth was.

Also I wondered is there in significance in the fact that Charlotte is called Charley? Considering that after the death of her father she is the one who had to take over working and providing for the family.

Everyman wrote: "The original part 5, Chapters 14 - 16, starts by bringing us back with Esther, and the opportunity to spend some time with her, Ada, Richard, and a nice visit with Miss Jellyby (and Peepy) to meet ..."

I just have to say, Eman, that your summary lent itself to me reading it aloud as if I was reporter sharing the latest gossip. It was a lot of fun! Cheers!

Also, thanks for talking about Jo's job I was wondering what he was talking about.

Silver wrote: "Another thing I noticed is that Esther does seem to often encounter situations involving children that much like herself have been neglected, badly treated or left to their own devices."

Perhaps, as Eman mentioned, Dickens is using these other orphans as a contrast to Esther's situation. However, I feel that as I read more about these other orphans I have less sympathy for the circumstances of Esther's upbringing.

I also thought something similar about Charlotte being called Charley.

Tiffany wrote: "However, I feel that as I read more about these other orphans I have less sympathy for the circumstances of Esther's upbringing..."

Yes, that is interesting, I do notice that in comparison Esther didn't have it that bad. It also seems maybe that Dickens is making a point about the different circumstances of their situations, Esther is being confronted with scenarios that where much more sever than her own.

While Esther was made to live a lonely life and denied friendship of other girls and than her godmother viewed her birth as a misfortune, she did still have someone that raised her, and took care of her, and she was even permitted an education.

Something of which neither Charley or Caddy have the benefits of.

Also another interesting contrast is both Caddy and Charley are in situations where they must be responsible for their younger siblings, while Esther grew up without any siblings, she only had a doll.

Silver wrote: "Tiffany wrote: "However, I feel that as I read more about these other orphans I have less sympathy for the circumstances of Esther's upbringing..."

another interesting contrast is both Caddy and Charley are in situations where they must be responsible for their younger siblings, while Esther grew up without any siblings ..."

Good point. I wonder how Esther's childhood might have been different if she'd had siblings. And since Mr. Jarndyce revealed that he'd been contacted by someone (I'm assuming her godmother) to make Esther a ward, would Mr. Jarndyce have treated her/them differently if there was more than one child? Also, he does seem to treat Ada and Richard differently than Esther. Is this because the differences in how Ada/Richard and Esther became his wards?

Following up on what Mr. Jarndyce reveals to Esther about her upbringing, the maths indicate that Esther is now 21 years old which means that 1-2 years have past since the beginning of the story. Now maybe it's just me missing any reference to the passage of time, but I wouldn't have guessed it to be that long.

I think this is as good a place as any to bring up one of the difficulties I'm having with this novel in particular and with Victorian literature in general - how can we understand the value of money in the text in modern terms? I've read different articles about this and everything I've read suggests it's a notoriously difficult task. It's hard enough to approximate what a pound in 1850 is worth in terms of dollars in 2014, but it can be done. However, that's just one factor to consider. Much harder to calculate is the purchasing power of that pound in 1850 versus an equivalent number of dollars in 2014. Taking an example from the story, Lady Dedlock gives Jo a sovereign. Clearly this is a fortune to Jo and apparently a trifle to Lady Dedlock. But how are we to understand the scale? Would this be like Warren Buffet giving a homeless man $1,000, or $10,000 dollars? It may seem like I'm focusing on minute details too much, but this issue appears over and over. What does it mean in contemporary terms when Skimpole runs up a fifteen pound debt? What does it mean when someone drops half a crown for a meal (small spoiler - this occurs in chapter 20)? Considering how important class distinctions are in the novel and in England in general at the time, I think how we understand the value of money affects how we read the story. How has everyone else been dealing with this aspect of the story?

P.S. Adding to my confusion, I read further and a sovereign probably isn't worth anything near $1,000, let alone $10,000. I think food, especially meat, was more expensive then (in terms of purchasing power) than it is now, but comparisons are difficult.

Jeremy -- Usually there are commentaries around that can help one understand the money/economic issues. Usually Norton Editions are good for that sort of thing -- however, I haven't looked for BH. You might try a search in the .edu domain for perhaps someone's thesis on the topic.

Susanna wrote: "Jeremy wrote "how can we understand the value of money in the text in modern terms?... "

Good question. For me, it is enough to know that a sovereign is a fortune to Jo and a trifle to Lady Dedloc..."

I'll be back tomorrow to participate more - I've been madly working to finish our company financials. Anyway, I found this site that provides some help with the value of currency over time. I think it's a little conservative but close enough for our purposes.

www.likesbooks.com/money.html

Lol about the celebrated deportment of the elder Mr. Turveydrop who must, after witnessing his son's sincere endeavors, must show himself to the other few remaining gentlemen! ha! Talk about doing things for appearances…ONLY….and having his son (and earlier his wife) do the work for him to be able to conduct in such fine decorum…as Dickens said, "with an air that was an example to mankind". So it appears Dickens is making further note of how some people do things without airs and solely for the good …and then there are the others…sigh…
It is so much fun reading Dickens…e.g. how indeed Esther did agree that Mr. Quayle was a great creature…"flabbily speaking"….how Mr. Skimpole grants that Boythorn has a "sledge hammering sort of merit in him"..ha! How Jo notices of the woman he is guiding about: "what a jolly servant she must be to wear such sparkling rings" ..Oh, what a fun it is to read Dickens! I find myself chuckling a lot with the clever language he uses in descriptions and everything!

Tiffany wrote: "However, I feel that as I read more about these other orphans I have less sympathy for the circumstances of Esther's upbringing."

I'm curious as to why. Is it because, even bad as it was it was so much better than the other orphans, it doesn't deserve as much sympathy? Or something else?

Jeremy wrote: "I think this is as good a place as any to bring up one of the difficulties I'm having with this novel in particular and with Victorian literature in general - how can we understand the value of mon..."

You're right, that's always an issue in Victorian (and earlier) novels.

It's not only translating into modern currency, but it was a much less egalitarian society than ours (even with the current changes in equity).


This website might be a bit helpful. See especially the related materials, and follow links freely:
http://www.victorianweb.org/economics...

But it's also important to keep in mind that living costs, after rent, food, and coal, were very low. There was no electric bill to pay, no phone or internet or cable or dish bill to pay, no water, sewage, and trash bill, no computers, TVs, washers, dryers, refrigerators, microwaves, or other kitchen appliances to buy, repair, and replace, no light bulbs, sponges, paper towels, or any of a myriad of other expenses which even people living in poverty in this country today expect to incur as a matter of course. If you take out of your own monthly budget all the things that weren't available in 1862 you would find that you didn't need nearly as much to live on (if you call it living!) as you do today.

On the other hand, at the upper end spending was lavish. Very few people today can afford both a town house and a country house both fully equipped with servants -- in some houses as many as a hundred servants, plus of course a stable of horses to maintain and dozens or even hundreds of acres of lawns, gardens, and ponds to maintain (without any lawn mowers or power tools of any kind!)

Does anybody know what Richard means by calling Esther "Mrs. Shipton" in Chapter 17? The notes to my edition don't say anything about that. Is he meaning Mother Shipton, who was an alleged prophet in the 1600s?

Indeed, Richard calls Esther all sorts of things in this conversation. Mother Hubbard, Mrs. Shipton, Minerva. And JJ also has his pet names for her -- my rosebud, little woman, Dame Durden. Nobody else seems to be the subject of so many pet names. Why is Esther?

Everyman wrote: "Tiffany wrote: "However, I feel that as I read more about these other orphans I have less sympathy for the circumstances of Esther's upbringing."

I'm curious as to why. Is it because, even bad as..."

When I first read Esther's story, I had only my own experiences (which was a pretty good) to compare hers with. Also Esther is presented as a protagonist in the story and her POV is written in first person. Therefore I feel that Esther's story is my story. But as Dickens introduces us (the readers and Esther and Co.) to more tragic orphans, I start to compare the situations. And Esther's childhood doesn't seem so bad. Honestly, if I had to choose any of the orphans I would like to be, I'd choose Esther. Also, if I had had Esther's upbringing and was then confronted with the others, I'd have less sympathy for myself.

Nevertheless, there's a phrase I've heard - 'it's small potatoes'. And seems easy to dismiss Esther's upbringing as equally unimportant or less worthy of sympathy. However, a few years ago a friend of mine said to me that 'your problem may be small potatoes but they are your potatoes.' As such, Esther's story is still tragic and not an upbringing I would wish on anyone. All the stories are worthy of sympathy but some of them provoke in me a stronger urge to want to fix it. (The frustrations of reading!)

Perhaps this was what Dickens was attempting to do when he presents us with other orphans; The idea that no matter how bad it seems it can always be worse. (Rather depressing thought really...) And perhaps some people need help more than others.

Everyman wrote: " Nobody else seems to be the subject of so many pet names. Why is Esther? ..."

I've noticed that some people in the right circumstances seem to gain nicknames. A friend of mine in high school at least 4 that I can recall. And at a previous job of mine, no one called me by my proper name, it was always some kind of nickname. Although, most of my nicknames were variations or shorter forms. Esther's nicknames all seem to convey age or motherhood, etc. I also wonder if 'little woman' as a nickname meant wife in Dickens' time the way if often does now.

Tiffany: "I also wonder if 'little woman' as a nickname meant wife in Dickens' time the way if often does now."

Well, now that you mention it, Mr. Snagsby calls his wife "my little woman." Perhaps the nickname signifies Esther's importance in the household. She does perform all of the duties that a Victorian wife of her social class would perform. She oversees the housekeeping, pours out the tea, etc., as well as being a sort of emotional caretaker for everyone in the house. Moreover, all of them seem to give her "lady of the household" status without even thinking about it. Richard and Ada, who are around her age, both interact with her as if she were older and wiser than they are, and Mr. Jarndyce, who is old enough to be her father, talks to her as an equal. It seems to be one of those names that's given in jest, but used only half-facetiously.

Tiffany: "I feel that as I read more about these other orphans I have less sympathy for the circumstances of Esther's upbringing."

I had never thought about it in those terms, but now I'm beginning to think that that may have been part of the point. Esther is introduced to us in such a way that we can't help but pity her. When she talks about her childhood without apparent malice towards Mrs. Rachel and her godmother, we chalk it up to her sense of duty and propriety, or to Dickens needing to make her a model of feminine devotion and stoicism. You almost want to reach through the pages and shake her and yell "You were emotionally abused as a child! You don't have to and shouldn't praise the people involved in that!" But at this point in the story, you really start to come around more to her point of view. All of a sudden, it's not just Esther being perfect that diminishes her pain. It's the greater pain of so many other people in the story. And that makes an incredibly powerful point. When Esther doesn't have it so bad, comparatively speaking, there's something dreadfully wrong with society.

Oops, sorry -- I forgot to make this post at the beginning of the week, with the first section of this week's readings. My bad, but here it is, I hope better late than never.

The sixth monthly number consisted of chapters 17-19. In Chapter 17, we return to Esther’s narrative, and her interesting observation about Richard that “though I liked him more and more the better I knew him, I still felt more and more how much it was to be regretted that he had been educated in no habits of application and concentration.”
We get reacquainted with Mrs Badger (and Mr. Badger, though he barely counts except as an approving counterpoint, does he?) when she comes to call on Esther and Ada. She is a stitch to read about, but perhaps less so to be in the same room with for an extended period. But slipped into the conversation is the concern that Richard “has not chosen his profession advisedly.” And indeed, he is ready to move from medicine to law. Will he do any better at that? Find it any less “monotonous”?
And now, at last, we learn why John Jarndyce is in Esther’s life in the first place. It’s an incomplete story, in part because we don’t know why her aunt even knew of JJ’s existence to ask him. But why does he react as he does when she calls him her substitute Father. Is it possible that he is in fact her father??? But if so, why hide it now? It seems mysterious.
And Mr. Woodcourt is to leave for a trip to China and India. No chance to hop a quick 777 for this trip – would he be going by sailing ship, or by one the still newfangled steamships? At any rate, he brings his mother, who pains Esther by stressing her son’s need to marry a woman of birth.
And in this is a chapter of visits to Esther, there is one more, from Caddy, who brings a nosegay left for Esther by – Somebody.

Although Chapter 18 is titled Lady Dedlock, it is still written by Esther. Hmmm. What do these two woman have to do with each other?
But first, having returned to Bleak House from London, we have to deal with Richard’s dithering about medicine or law, when all he really wants to do is drift until Chancery makes him a rich man. His character, I fear, does not improve with time, particularly when he seems, in the matter of the waistcoat, to be very akin to Skimpole in his thinking about money. But is Dickens overemphasizing his weaknesses and will Richard turn out well in the end? Or is there indeed a likelihood of a shipwreck on the horizon?
But now the delayed visit to Mr. Boythorn comes about, with Skimpole, speak of the __, also one of the party. And Boythorn is very much himself, overjoyed to see them, effusive in both his welcome and his claim that for being twenty-five – no, twenty-six – minutes late the coachman should be put to death. But soon, despite the need to detour two miles around Dedlock park, they are settled comfortably in a delightful old house.
The next day being Sunday, they go to the little church in the park, where they see the pretty Rosa and the not so pretty Frenchwoman. And then Lady Dedlock enters, and this strange response of Esther – rapid beating of heart even at the momentary look into the eyes of Lady Dedlock. Why is this? What is so upsetting to our normally eventempered Esther? And why should this momentary glimpse of those handsome proud eyes carry her memory back to her lonely childhood? Why this sudden strange emotion?
Fortunately we get some comic relief in the delightful exchanges between Boythorne and Skimpole. What a contrast of characters!
JJ, Esther, and Ada have been enjoying their rambles around the park when a sudden storm drives them into a keeper’s lodge where, it happens, Lady Dedlock has also take refuge. During their conversation we find that JJ and Lady Dedlock have known each other in the past, and indeed were “in the habit of meeting,” although he knew her sister even better. Another mystery here? And then that curious episode of Rosa and the Frenchwoman both coming in the carriage which only holds two, and the Frenchwoman having to walk back (barefoot, by her choice) in the wet grass, as Lady Dedlock takes graceful leave of Ada, but none of Esther.

In Chapter 19 we are back in London, back at Chancery, but a very different Chancery from Chapter 1. Then, it shivered and sickened in the miasmatic fog but still carried on its business in the full majesty of the court. Now it bakes in summer heat, closed down except for the unfortunate judge who must come in twice a week to sweat and deal with matters which cannot await the return of the legal profession from its long vacation. But if law is on vacation, religion isn’t, at least not in the person of Rev. Chadband with his “gift of holding forth for four hours at a stretch” (and his exclusion from those he praises for enjoying their meal in moderation). He is another of those wonderful Dickensian characters – but is he merely here for comedic relief, or does he have a more significant role to play in the accumulating mysteries? Well, if not he, at least Mrs. Chadband, who it turns out was once “left in charge” of Esther. But which “in charge” woman is this? And does she know more than she is, at this point, letting on?
Eventually, into this pleasant dinner party intrudes the much less pleasant (one must assume, from the lack of a bathtub and the daily activity of sweeping horse droppings) Jo, who, being told he must move on, reasonably asks to where? But the law affords no answer; it requires that he move on, but is unconcerned about where, or even whether there is any place he can move on to.

Tiffany wrote: "Honestly, if I had to choose any of the orphans I would like to be, I'd choose Esther."

In preference to Ada? Of course, we don't know much about Ada's upbringing, but she seems prettier than Esther, and very sweet and loving. Of course, you would have to choose also to fall in love with Richard, which might not be all that great, but are there other reasons to prefer Esther over her, if one were choosing?

Audrey wrote: " Richard and Ada, who are around her age, both interact with her as if she were older and wiser than they are,"

Certainly older than Ada, and very certainly wiser than Richard!

I do agree with you that she seems to have become the center around which the household revolves. Makes one wonder what the household was like before the three young people arrived. Was there a center? Who entertained John Jarndyce in the long winter evenings? How did he get to be the kind of man he is?

Audrey wrote: "When Esther doesn't have it so bad, comparatively speaking, there's something dreadfully wrong with society. "

And indeed for much of society, at least city society, it was dreadfully wrong. For the other side -- the judges and lawyers in Chancery, in particular, who get to take their long vacations in Switzerland and in French watering-places -- it is pretty good.

Esther really experiences three levels of society, doesn't she? In her first 19 years she lives a psychologically unpleasant but physically quite acceptable, though not wealthy, life, where at least she has comfortable housing, food, and clothing. Then she moves into Bleak House and experiences the upper class (though not upper crust) life. But she also encounters the life of Charlie and Caddy, whose father is about to go bankrupt. So through her eyes we see the range of English society (and through the book's eyes, an even wider range, from Jo all the way up to Sir Leicester Dedlock.)

I was interested that episode 6, ending with Chapter 19, doesn't seem to have a cliffhanger closing paragraph that makes me eager to grab the next episode to find out what comes next.

"And there he sits, munching and gnawing, and looking up at the great cross on the summit of St. Paul's Cathedral, glittering above a red-and-violet-tinted cloud of smoke. From the boy's face one might suppose that sacred emblem to be, in his eyes, the crowning confusion of the great, confused city—so golden, so high up, so far out of his reach. There he sits, the sun going down, the river running fast, the crowd flowing by him in two streams—everything moving on to some purpose and to one end—until he is stirred up and told to "move on" too."

But I do like the idea of the busy crowd moving on by intent compared to Jo being forced to move on from his apparently relatively pleasant place, but with no good place to go to.

I assumed mrs Chadband was Miss Donny, but I'm not sure if that is right. I guess we will find out. And who is Lady Dedlock's sister? Now, that is a mystery. Surely she can't be Esther's godmother? Would that make Lady Dedlock Esther's mother? But something has stirred in Esther's memory, that much is certain.

I have not read any further, so this is idle speculation. I did, in fact, begin Bleak House many years ago, but think this is about as far as I got. I don't remember anything beyond this anyway.

Everyman wrote:

"Meanwhile, what of this love story between Miss Jellyby and the younger Turveydrop? Is there a chance that they will make a successful marriage? Is this real love, or simply a desperate attempt by Miss J to escape an intolerable life?"

I think their chances are excellent. There is an emotional and spiritual commonality between the two of them: They adore their fathers. Neither have a mother's love (alhough Mrs. Jellyby is alive, she is not a mother figure to Caddy). They are hard-working. They are selfless. They are full of love looking for someone to give it to and receive it from. They are both nurturers. They are both capable of deep devotion. They are both givers, not takers - and because of this, they will doubly receive...1st, by the simple act of receiving from the other, and 2nd, in the act of giving to the other.

If all pairings shared such deep, strong bonds, it's possible the divorce rate would not be what it is.

"Seeing" the two of them together, there is no doubt they make each other happy. They make each other glow.

I'd bet a year's salary on that marriage surviving, not only the test of time, but also Mr. Turveydrop Sr. :).

Everyman wrote: "Then to Miss Flite’s, and the doctor is there clearing her to return to court. [And why does Miss Flite call Caddy Fitz-Jarndyce? What, if anything, does she have to do with the case? Is this another mystery we will have to wait to see solved?]

I remember researching this years ago because it was such a curious thing to me (notice, Miss Flite uses the same name for Esther). I read that "Fitz" is the Norman version of the French "fils", meaning "son of". I think the way Miss Flite uses it is to indicate that Caddy and Esther are from the family of Jarndyce. Easy to understand since, to Miss Flite, everything eventually makes its way back to the lawsuit. Kind of like the six degrees of separation joke where everything can be related back to Kevin Bacon :).

Everyman wrote: "Indeed, Skimpole seems a very convenient character to play off of, doesn’t he?"

Ugh, Skimpole. I think you are absolutely right that Dickens uses Skimpole to sharply illustrate his points. I mean really, Skimpole referring to himself as a child does a disservice to every child in the book. He says he doesn't understand money, or where things come from, or why can't he be allowed to just enjoy and appreciate his life and his "simple" pleasures, but what about the real children in Bleak House? Are they allowed the luxury of not thinking about money, or how they will feed themselves? No. Have they ever been allowed the luxury of actually being children? Ask Charley what money equates to in terms of how much washing she has to do. Ask Jo if he has any friends who bale him out of his misfortune.

Certainly Esther was not in such dire straits. She did not physically starve, but she was emotionally starved. She has an understanding of what it's like to carry a burden of awareness far in advance of her years. That's why she is able to see Skimpole so clearly and why he disturbs her.

Yuck, how disgusting to see an adult playacting as a child. But, as you say, he serves his purpose. By contrasting this "mock child" with the real children in Bleak House, their plights are all the more heart-wrenching.

Was it Audrey who made the astute observation that neighborhoods and houses almost seem alive in Bleak House? I think nowhere is this so true as in Tom-All-Alones.

Wasn't it T.S. Eliot who wrote a poem about death and the skull beneath the skin? That's how I think of Tom-All-Alones. It's the dead thing hidden under the pomp and circumstance of Chancery.

Everyman wrote: "Tiffany wrote: "Honestly, if I had to choose any of the orphans I would like to be, I'd choose Esther."

... but are there other reasons to prefer Esther over her, if one were choosing?"

I think at this point there are reasons to choose Esther over Ada but that's due more to me identifying more with Esther than with Ada. Therefore, people who better identify with Ada would probably choose her upbringing instead.

Everyman wrote: "I was interested that episode 6, ending with Chapter 19, doesn't seem to have a cliffhanger closing paragraph that makes me eager to grab the next episode to find out what comes next.

"And there..."

I agree that there's not a strong cliffhanger here. But I still found myself wanting to read more (not because I wanted to know about the dead body or the mysterious stranger, etc.) because when we first encountered Jo, I felt like his story was over and now Dickens brings him back. So is his story really done now? Or will he come back? Or perhaps the question that really grabs me is- will Jo every get another benefactor like he had in Nemo (No One)? (Although 'benefactor' may be too strong a word for Nemo's role in Jo's life)

Paula wrote: "Was it Audrey who made the astute observation that neighborhoods and houses almost seem alive in Bleak House? I think nowhere is this so true as in Tom-All-Alones.

Wasn't it T.S. Eliot who wrote ..."

I like your image of Tom-All-Alones being the death and rot that Chancery hides. Like the skeleton in the closet idea.

I went and read T.S. Eliot's poem Whispers of Immortality and I think the imagery Eliot creates fits in well with the relationship between Tom-All-Alones and Chancery.

There seems to be some foreshadowing going on when Esther and Co visit Charley and meet Mr. Gridley. He spoke of his case with the Court of Equity and how drawn out that was. What's interesting is that Mr. Gridley's case is explained in greater detail about what happened and why and how it got dragged out. 17 witnesses were not enough?! Why do I feel like the lawyers are 'milking the system' in order to make money? Although to be fair that still happens today. Perhaps that's why Dickens referred to lawyers as maggots...

Mr Gridley's case is explained in great detail, and yet we are still none the wiser as to anything more that a brief summary sketch of Jarndyce v Jarndyce.

Chadband is another extraordinarily exaggerated Dickens character. He sees himself as a preacher, and can't stop preaching even in the most inappropriate of circumstances, and yet his 'sermons' are not meant to persuade, as one might expect, but merely to show off his great eloquence. Who would listen to such a thing? Yet Mrs. Snagsby seems quite taken.

To go back to Mr. Turveydrop, one of the things I find interesting about him is the way he fits in with some of the commentary earlier on sexism with regard to Mrs. Jellyby. That contrast illuminates, I think, some gender role norms in regard to family duties. Mrs. Jellyby shirks hers by being a financial drain on her husband, completely neglecting the household work, and letting her many children grow up unsupervised and uncared for. In Mr. Turveydrop, we see what the neglect of family obligations looks like for men. The woman Esther speaks to is particularly harsh in regard to the fact that his wife was expected to keep him, rather than the other way round. While Mrs. Jellyby pushes her family ever closer to bankruptcy, Mr. Turvedrop, if report is to be believed, worked his wife to death providing him with his "simple" luxuries. (Given his treatment of his son, I see no particular reason to disbelieve the theory.) Having thus worked his wife to death, he
continued the reversal with his son, forcing his son to care and provide for him, rather than vice versa.


Moreover, like Mrs. Jellyby, Mr. Turveydrop uses constant activity to keep himself emotionally distant from his child. Mrs. Jellyby always has more letters to write. Mr. Turveydrop always has some other work site to send his son to. In both cases, this almost completely precludes confidences on the part of their children. I must admit to being a bit surprised that they had bothered to keep their engagement a secret. I'm not sure when their parents would find the time to talk to them about it in the first place.

To be honest, I am struggling a bit with this book. At 270 pages in, should I feel more attached to the characters? So far, it seems that the "good" characters are extremely so, with no flaws; and the "bad" characters are completely flawed with absolutely no redeeming qualities. In the extravagance of their ridiculousness, they are very humorous, and make certain points about society, but...is that it? They don't feel realistic.

As for the good charatcers, they certainly have an air of mystery about them....but other than that, seem flat. Is it too early to feel like this? Or am I just in a heartless mood? :-)

On the other hand, I completely agree with those who have expressed their delight with Dicken's use of the language in descriptions and such. His prose is wonderful...I just can't seem to get into the characters...:-(

Genni, if you don't think the characters are realistic, it is only because you have never met me.

I am Richard.

I think I'll be a truck driver. Nah, too much lifting. a firefighter! Nah, too many night shifts. A concert violinist! You mean I'd have to practice?

Zippy wrote: "Genni, if you don't think the characters are realistic, it is only because you have never met me.

I am Richard.

I think I'll be a truck driver. Nah, too much lifting. a firefighter! Nah, too many..."

Lol! :-) Well, yes, I concede that Richard is an exception, but Ada? Esther? Jarndyce? They all strike me as very idealistic....but in keeping with contrasting characters, maybe that is a role Richard plays against the other "perfect" companions?

David wrote: "Chadband is another extraordinarily exaggerated Dickens character. He sees himself as a preacher, and can't stop preaching even in the most inappropriate of circumstances, and yet his 'sermons' are not meant to persuade, as one might expect, but merely to show off his great eloquence. Who would listen to such a thing? Yet Mrs. Snagsby seems quite taken. "

It is tempting to think that Dickens was lampooning some person or movement, though I don't recognize any such. But is he really so different from some of the cult leaders of the past fifty years?

Genni wrote: "To be honest, I am struggling a bit with this book. At 270 pages in, should I feel more attached to the characters? So far, it seems that the "good" characters are extremely so, with no flaws; and ..."

That is not an unusual criticism of Dickens, that his characters are often fascinating and beautifully crafted, but not all that complex. I think perhaps that here that the interactions of the characters, which are gradually becoming exposed, are more interesting than any individual characters.

Some people, it seems, criticise Dickens for being too realistic, while others for being not realistic enough, and creating characters that are too fantastical to be believable.

I think this helps shine a light on his genius. Yes, he creates realistic characters and situations that his original readers would have been familiar with, and in many cases we can still recognise today. But he also gives most of his characters an exaggerated personality, emphasising one aspect of their character. This is where the element of fantasy comes in, which seems to cause problems for some people, who expect, I think, realist fiction to be true to life in every detail.

Although he is rightly classed as a realist writer, within the tropes of the genre he gives his fantasy and imagination full rein.

I think Chesterton has good observations about Dickens's realism. Here is a quote from Chesterton's critical study:

"Herein is the whole secret of that eerie realism with which Dickens could always vitalise some dark or dull corner of London. There are details in the Dickens descriptions - a window, or a railing, or the keyhole of a door - which he endows with demoniac life. The things seem more actual than things really are. Indeed, that degree of realism does not exist in reality; it is the unbearable realism of a dream. And this kind of realism can only be gained by walking dreamily in a place; it cannot be gained by walking observantly."

Chesterton argues that Dickens is actually more real than the realists because he gets to the essence of a thing - past the surface details. Personally, I feel like I've met more people out of Dickens novels than Dreiser novels.

I am sick of the birds, the bird references, the bird names, all of it. Ha.

Paula wrote (#26):"I'd bet a year's salary on that marriage surviving, not only the test of time, but also Mr. Turveydrop Sr. :)... "

I agree with everything that Paula said about Miss Jellyby and young Turveydrop. I think they have been well-shaped by their parents (inadvertently!!) to be a great pair. Awesome vengeance on the parents too, what will either do without their children, though Dickens tends to forgive dumb parents and allow them to remain annoying their children.

Tiffany wrote (#4): "However, I feel that as I read more about these other orphans I have less sympathy for the circumstances of Esther's upbringing..."

Silver wrote (#5): "Yes, that is interesting, I do notice that in comparison Esther didn't have it that bad. It also seems maybe that Dickens is making a point about the different circumstances of their situations, Esther is being confronted with scenarios that where much more sever than her own. "

I do believe Esther had it harder then she has admitted. Remember she is narrating her own story, and she seems to be reflecting mostly on good things. Notice the line from Mrs Chadband about Esther:

"I call her Esther Summerson," says Mrs. Chadband with austerity. "There was no Miss-ing of the girl in my time. It was Esther. 'Esther, do this! Esther, do that!' and she was made to do it."

(I am guessing that Mrs. Chadband was one of the Miss Donnys, or I have missed a reference). The harshness with which Mrs Chadband describes the expectations placed on Esther, and her attitude toward her, is different to what we might believe if we rely only on Esther's own narratives.

Silver wrote (#2): "Another thing I noticed is that Esther does seem to often encounter situations involving children that much like herself have been neglected, badly treated or left to their own devices."

I wonder if Esther is just observant of these things because of her own upbringing (again, she is the narrator here). I wonder if Richard or Ada were narrating the story whether the children would have warranted much of a mention. I know Ada noticed the children, but I think she only did because of Esther's interactions with them.

On the other hand, Jarndyce seems to attract orphans and seems to be so concerned for them. I mean he had absolutely no need or requirement to go visit the Neckett children, but he did.

Audrey wrote (#18): "Richard and Ada, who are around her age, both interact with her as if she were older and wiser than they are, and Mr. Jarndyce, who is old enough to be her father, talks to her as an equal. "

My younger brother and I were discussing this the other day. Why is it that I (the eldest) act and am treated as both an equal to my parents, and the wiser sibling for my younger siblings to turn to. If my younger brother ever tried to counsel me, to steer me in the right direction so-to-speak, I would look at him with confusion, it would be odd, strange - but only a few years seperate us. We both pondered on why those few years seem to give me the wisdom over my siblings. No answer that can be explain in a single paragragh, but just an incredible understanding that it would be perfectly natural for Ada and Richard to look to Esther.

Paula wrote (#28): "Ugh, Skimpole. I think you are absolutely right that Dickens uses Skimpole to sharply illustrate his points. I mean really, Skimpole referring to himself as a child does a disservice to every child in the book. He says he doesn't understand money, or where things come from, or why can't he be allowed to just enjoy and appreciate his life and his "simple" pleasures, but what about the real children in Bleak House? Are they allowed the luxury of not thinking about money, or how they will feed themselves? No. Have they ever been allowed the luxury of actually being children? Ask Charley what money equates to in terms of how much washing she has to do. Ask Jo if he has any friends who bale him out of his misfortune. "

I loved and agreed with everything that you said here.

David wrote (#34): "Chadband is another extraordinarily exaggerated Dickens character. He sees himself as a preacher, and can't stop preaching even in the most inappropriate of circumstances, and yet his 'sermons' are not meant to persuade, as one might expect, but merely to show off his great eloquence. Who would listen to such a thing? Yet Mrs. Snagsby seems quite taken. "

Ugh... I know!

I like the way Dickens has concluded the "lampooning" (to borrow the term from Everyman) of philanthropic organisations and people by showing the way the people quietly go about looking after the children. In many ways they are looked after better than Mrs Jellyby's own children.

Regarding money. Try this website (http://www.measuringworth.com/austral...) it lets you enter in the amount and the year and it will convert it into different years.

Cass wrote: "I am sick of the birds, the bird references, the bird names, all of it. Ha."

Hilarious!!!

David wrote: "Some people, it seems, criticise Dickens for being too realistic, while others for being not realistic enough, and creating characters that are too fantastical to be believable."

For me, it gets back again to the theatrical aspects of Dickens' writing. When I was undergoing my own training as an actor/singer, we were constantly reminded of the old adage to "play to the back of the house", which means of course that your acting, as well as your voice, have to be exaggerated so that people on the very back row can feel the impact of what you are trying to portray with every movement and gesture. It was an uncomfortable practice to put into place because you have to get over the awkwardness of feeling like a total dork doing it. And...even if you are in the audience, if you are sitting right on top of the actors, it can seem overdone...a bit much :).

Dickens wanted to get his story and his more detailed points across. To do that, he had to play to the back of the house, meaning, he had to keep the attention of his many diverse readers as engaged and entertained as possible. That way, readers who appreciated the nuances of his stories could enjoy them, but readers who wanted more of the sheer entertainment could be kept involved as well. Just my thought.