The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Chapter 13

Curiosities

Well, we are moving our way through the novel and working our way through some longish chapters - at least they seem longer to me than what we have encountered before. I will try to separate this week’s chapters into manageable chunks. The epigraph to this chapter gives us four distinct sections to this chapter.

We begin with Martin heading towards London in a miserable rain storm. The weather matches his mood and we are told that Martin ‘had no very agreeable employment either for his moral or his physical perceptions.’ He is alone in the muddy rain and his desolate mood matches his desolate surroundings. He is about to throw away the book that Tom Pinch gave him when he discovers a page folded down and a piece of paper that contains the half-sovereign. An accompanying note from Tom says he does not need it. Such kindness stands out in stark contrast with the lack of generosity and thoughtfulness of both Pecksniff and old Chuzzlewit. Next, we learn a bit more about young Martin, and it is not too flattering. Dickens tells us that Martin believes that he must be a winning person to have made such an impression on Tom Pinch. Chuzzlewit then concludes that he was superior to Tom, and was much more likely to ‘make his way in the world’ than Tom ever could. At this point I balked. It seems that young Chuzzlewit has an inflated opinion of himself. It appears that Dickens is sharpening his focus on young Martin Chuzzlewit more closely, and the person who is coming into focus is both pompous and myopic. We need to pay attention to what follows.

Martin stops at a little road-side ale-house for rest, food, and to dry out. Into this inn comes a man who is also on his way to London and he has a cart. After a bit of verbal sparring, Martin secures a ride with this man whose name is William Simmons. It is in his conversation with William that Martin first hears about the wonders, magic, and promise of the United States. William tells Martin that ‘all men are alike in the U-nited States’ and that a friend of his has made a fortune there.

Thoughts

We have picked up some subtle hints as to the deeper nature of young Martin’s personality in earlier chapters but in this chapter his character is developed more sharply. What is revealed about Martin from his comments about Tom Pinch and his conversation with Bill?

What exactly is it that would attract Martin to the potential of the United States?

How would you characterize Martin’s character and personality from this chapter?


Once in London Martin heads for a pawn shop in order to raise some money for his living expenses. He goes to the shop with the intention of pawning his watch only to find out that Montague Tigg is also in the shop pawning some clothes. It is apparent that Tigg and the shop owner David are familiar with each other and this is obviously not Tigg’s first trip to the pawn shop. Tigg takes over the negotiation for the watch, strikes a deal, and then attempts to charge Martin a fee for his part in the transaction. He tells the shopkeeper that Martin's name is Chicken Smivey. Martin wants nothing to do with Tigg who, in a long-winded fashion, continues his attempt to get a commission for helping pawn the watch. Tigg tells Martin that Slyme is no longer a friend of his.

With the money from the pawned watch Martin is able to secure a lodging but his attempts to find a job in London are fruitless. Martin’s money slowly wastes away. He constantly thinks about the promise of America. Martin receives a letter with unknown handwriting and inside the envelope is £20. Next he hears footsteps on his stairs.

Thoughts

The fact that Martin met Tigg in a pawn shop and Tigg is familiar with the man in the shop tells us much about Tigg’s circumstances. We learn from Tigg that he and Slyme have parted ways. First, I wonder if we can believe much of what Tigg says and second since we have bumped into Tigg and heard about Slyme again I think they will both be part of the longer narrative of the novel. What do you make of Tigg and the absent Slyme. How might Dickens incorporate them in the remainder of the novel?

Martin has received two gifts of money, one from Tom and a much larger one from a mystery person. Who do you think is Martin’s mystery benefactor? Why might this person want to make such a generous gift to Martin?

Do you think there is any symbolism in Martin pawning his watch? What could it represent?



As Martin is enjoying a decent meal thanks to the mysterious money hears a knock on his door and it is none other than Mark Tapley. Mark explains that he has seen Martin in the streets a couple of times and just recently observed Martin buying his dinner. Martin receives this information and is less than pleased. It seems that a jolly face and a warm friendly personality causes suspicion in Martin's mind. In any case, Mark says he wants to attend on a gentleman and Martin seems to be just the man. Mark Tapley likes grumpy people. What’s not to like with a somber soul like young Martin Chuzzlewit? No matter how hard Chuzzlewit tries to dislike Mark, he can’t. Mark thinks that America will be a great place to be jolly in. Is this not a perfect arrangement for the two men? Mark Tapley says he knows nothing about the mysterious envelope that held the £20.

Martin explains his backstory to Mark which covers his relationship with Mary. After the story Mark tells Martin that Mary is presently in London. Martin tells Mark that he has not seen Mary since he left his grandfather’s house. Martin makes arrangements with Mark to deliver a letter to Mary and thus the relationship between Martin and Mark Tapley is established. Mark then sets out to make their residence as pleasant as possible.


Thoughts


We now have Mark Tapley, a man of eternal optimism, and young Martin Chuzzlewit linked. One a jolly man, one a morose one. What do you think Dickens has in mind for these two in the coming chapters?

Again, what is up with the £20?

We have had a couple of coincidences in this chapter. Do you think Dickens puts too much reliance on this plot device?

Chapter 14

Martin has finished his letter and given it to Mark to deliver to Mary. Mary agrees to meet with Martin the next morning in Saint James Park. The day begins with dreary weather and Martin is quick to grumble. That said, once he sees Mary his emotions change quickly and Martin quickly realizes how beautiful Mary is. Dickens gives us some of Mary’s backstory. She “had her nature strengthened by the hands of hard endurance and necessity; had come out from her young trials constant, self-denying, earnest, and devoted.” When Mary sees Martin she notices how he looks anxious and more thoughtful. I don’t know about you but their conversation leads me to believe that Mary is the one whose feet are planted most firmly on the ground whereas Martin has a slight martyr’s complex. True, it may well be that Martin has earned that emotion, but his attitude still grates with me. What do you think of their conversation and what it reveals about their individual characters?

Martin tells Mary about his plan to go to America as cheerfully “as if [Mary] were my little wife already.” Ouch. How do you respond to Martin calling Mary his “little wife”? Mary reveals to Martin that old Chuzzlewit and Pecksniff are becoming closer friends and “it is likely we may come to know him, if not to visit and reside with him and - I think - his daughters.” Martin tells Mary that “Pecksniff is a scoundrel.”

Thoughts

This chapter gives us the opportunity to see Mary and Martin together at length for the first time. What is your opinion of them both during their meeting?

What could be some possible outcomes of old Chuzzlewit going to live near or with the Pecksniff’s.

Do you have any doubt that Martin will go to America? If he does, what is the probability that he will remain faithful to Mary? That he will remain in America? Do you think he will return to England? If he does return to England, do you think he will come back a different man? What leads you to that opinion?


Martin tells Mary that he has made arrangements to have the letters he sends from America given to her through Mrs Lupin. Martin tells Mary that after he returns from America he will reward Tom for his support. Mary sees Martin’s offer to help Tom as an indication of his “old kind nature.” I wonder who is fooling who here? At this point in the novel should we think that Martin is that sensitive towards Tom? Martin tells Mary that “[Tom’s] very grateful and desirous to serve me.” I believe that is true, but does Tom want to help nurture the relationship between Martin and Mary, does Tom want the opportunity to see Mary more often, is Martin, in any way, aware of Tom’s interest in Mary and is simply using Tom? So many ways to consider this arrangement. What are your thoughts and opinions?

Mary is told that Mark Tapley will accompany Martin to America. I am finding myself disliking Martin more and more. His self-centred importance is further displayed when he tells Mary that it will be a consolation to talk to anyone “no matter how simple, with whom you can speak about me; (my italics) and the very first time you talk to Pinch, you’ll feel at once that there is no more occasion for any embarrassment or hesitation in talking to him, than if he were an old woman (again, my italics). For her part, Mary reveals that she is both more mature and more sensitive towards others in her response.

Martin tells Mary that he and Mark leave for Liverpool immediately and then sail in three days. Mary asks Martin to not forget his grandfather to which Martin answers in a prideful manner. Here, I think, we see the divide in maturity and sensitivity between Mary and Martin. Martin exclaims that he was “not born to be the toy and puppet of any man.” Interesting comment and one that further reveals the nature of young Martin. Before they part Mary asks Martin if he has enough money for the voyage and he assures her he does. After they part we find out that Mary gave a ring to Mark to give to Martin “for a parting keepsake.”

Martin sees the world and even Mary through his own prideful glasses and believes that he is the one who is making the greatest sacrifices. Though all this Dickens tells us that Mark Tapley has been observing young Martin and seems rather pleased with himself. Indeed, the chapter ends with Mark Tapley smiling and pronouncing to himself one word:

“Jolly!”


Thoughts


As the chapter ends we learn even more clearly the differences on the characters of Mary and young Martin. As you read the final few paragraphs did your opinion of Mark and Mary alter or did it become more entrenched? Why?

Do you think there was any hidden significance to Mary's question to Martin regarding his finances for the voyage to America? What would it be?

Mark Tapley has been very attentive to the meeting of Mary and Martin. At the end of the chapter we see that he is smiling and then speaks what appears to be the rather enigmatic word “Jolly.” What do you think the meaning is behind this word?

The name of Dickens’s sister-in-law was Mary. Upon her sudden and unexpected death when a teenager Dickens was distraught. He took a ring from her finger, placed it on his own finger, and wore it until the day he died. The scene in this chapter where the teenaged character Mary gives Martin a ring has fascinated some Dickens scholars for years. To what extent do you believe this scene between Mary and Martin could, in any way, be linked, related or psychologically reflective to the events and parting in Dickens’s own life?

Chapter 15

This chapter takes us across the Atlantic Ocean with Mark and Martin. For Mark, it is a pleasant voyage where he gets to help others and bolster their spirits. On the other hand, Martin has a rather uncomfortable voyage even with Mark’s cheerful presence. Martin enjoys being miserable and selfish. There is no question that Martin does feel himself superior to his fellow emigrants.

Our chapter begins with six delightful paragraphs of description. We begin with a dark and dreary night where Dickens cleverly personifies the wind. His language is powerful, evocative, creative, and energetic. He manages to put the reader aboard the ship The Screw . Did you note how Dickens places an emphasis on two consecutive paragraphs with the phrase “A ship!”?

The tossing of the ship upon the sea slightly disorients Mark Tapley. Still, when Martin, feeling very miserable, calls to Mark he responds with a hopeful, positive tone and comments that “Virtue’s its own reward. So’s jollity.” As Mark reflects on the miserable crossing, and the discomfort of those board the ship, especially those in steerage, “his spirits rose proportionately.” Dickens notes how those in steerage were complaining less and offering mutual assistance more than the other passengers with more preferable accommodations. Dickens also notes how sour Martin is. There is little question that Dickens has set Mark and his “imperturbable good humour” up as a binary opposite to Martin.

Martin says that he chooses to remain in bed in steerage because he does not want to be recognized as a person who came over among the steerage passengers and thus be thought of as “poverty-stricken” when he arrives in America. The cranky Martin concludes his pouting by commenting that there is no one aboard the ship who has undergone as much hardship as he has. As the ship approaches America there is some talk about the freedom the country offers and some comment about slavery.

The chapter ends with Mark looking far ahead and commenting that “any land will do for, after so much water.”


Thoughts

This chapter focuses on Mark Tapley and Martin Chuzzlewit. Does it in any way add to our knowledge of their characters?

Is there anything in this chapter that hints as to what will unfold for Mark and Martin now they are in America?

To what extent do you find Mark believable, or is he one of Dickens’s stock of characters who are too unbelievable to identify with or enjoy?

Do you remember the song “Always Look on the Bright Side” from Monty Python? It rumbles around my mind whenever Mark is part of a chapter. As we move through the novel do you think his attitude towards life could become annoying?


Reflections


We now have Martin and Mark in America, we have established how he will stay in contact with Mary, and we have learned that Pecksniff and old Chuzzlewit seem to becoming closer ... or should I say Pecksniff has worked his hypocritical magic on Chuzzlewit? I’m worried that Tom Pinch's contact with Mary will lead to him being more heartbroken.

I can’t help but believe young Chuzzlewit’s self-centred and annoying character will get worse. Will Mark Tapley be able to keep his cheerful disposition?

Finally, with Martin in America, we have to wonder how much of Dickens’s own experiences in America during his first reading tour will play themselves out in the novel. If the trans-Atlantic voyage is in any way suggestive, we are in for some fireworks. Dickens own voyage across the Atlantic with is wife Catherine and their servant was a rough one, so rough that when their ship The Britannica arrived in the United States Dickens took up a collection from the other passengers and bought the ship’s captain a present.

My apologies -- life has gotten in the way of my reading, and I'm woefully behind. Regretfully, I don't see that changing much until mid-November, but I do hope to catch up with all of you eventually. I hate missing out on the discussions in "real time" though! In the immortal words of Arnold Schwarzenegger (or at least his script writers) "I'll be Bach."

Mary Lou wrote: "My apologies -- life has gotten in the way of my reading, and I'm woefully behind. Regretfully, I don't see that changing much until mid-November, but I do hope to catch up with all of you eventual..."

Mary Lou

No worries. Life does often get in the way of reading. You are missed. We plan a cosy night at the Blue Dragon upon your return.

Well, I did keep up, but I'm a bit tired, so not sure if I'm up to some really deep things just now. I might reconsider some things tomorrow.

To start, the further we get into the book, the more I dislike Martin Chuzzlewit Jr. I also wonder in what way Martin could've gotten a better price for his watch if not for Tiggs - we know he and the pawnbroker knew each other, but I got a vibe that the pawnbroker was quite weary of Tiggs. It occured to me that Martin might've gotten way more for his watch without the meddling of a known vagabond. He also really does not seem to have a head for business at all in these chapters, so I expect him to only lose money on his American adventures off course.

While Mary gave the ring to Martin, I believe, as Tapley does, that it probably has cost her most if not all of her savings. So I do not believe the 20 pounds come from her. She might know where they came from though.

I really, really like Mark Tapley. He is weird and over the top in his search for the worst place possible to be jolly in, but in these chapters he also gave quite a lot of much needed balance and realism - despite his disposition, he seemed to be realistic and know what he got himself into - to the grumpyness and whining of Martin Jr. If things go south like I expect they will, it will be Mark Tapley's actions that have given Karma the turn that gives them a good(ish?) ending I bet. For if it all depends on Martin, who only takes without questioning, well, he'd be fish food already.

Jantine wrote: "Well, I did keep up, but I'm a bit tired, so not sure if I'm up to some really deep things just now. I might reconsider some things tomorrow.

To start, the further we get into the book, the more I..."

Hi Jantine

I agree with you about both Mark and Martin. I have no doubt that in the short run Martin will become increasing unlikeable and petty. That I can accept since it seems many people in real life enjoy being miserable. On the other hand, while I really enjoy Mark’s attitude and wish more people were like him in life, I wonder how far Dickens will have to go to have Mark counterbalance miserable Martin.

Those 20 pounds were enclosed in a letter with a handwriting unknown to Martin, and therefore I don't think it could have been written by Mary. First of all, he would know her writing, and secondly, she has already given him that ring.

I also considered that maybe, Martin's grandfather could have sent him the 20 pounds because he was responsible for his grandson's having to leave Mr. Pecksniff's house, and it might just be possible that the old man somehow felt responsible for the young man and therefore sent him the money to help him on his way. The letter is anonymous, and so the old man did not have to own up to what he might regard as a weakness - and who knows if young Martin would have accepted any money from his grandfather -, but then still the writing on the envelope was unknown to young Martin, and he would surely have recognized the handwriting of his own grandfather, wouldn't he?

20 pounds were a lot of money in those days, and so the question is still rearing its hoary head, Who sent that money?

For a moment I thought it might have been Mark, who had observed Martin's progress for some days and who wanted to provide him with the means of emigrating and of taking him with him. Still, there are the following two questions:

1) Mark might have had some savings from his time at the Blue Dragon, as he himself said, but would they amount to 20 pounds?

2) Why would he want to join Martin so much that he would concoct such a plan as the one I sketched above? He could go to America quite on his own.

The riddle of the 20 pounds will probably remain for quite a while.

Martin is really becoming more and more unpleasant in these chapters. His attitude towards Tom Pinch is very revealing of self-centredness, but he also fails to see the generosity and thoughtfulness of Mary. When he receives the ring as a gift from her, he assumes that Mary must have got this piece of jewelry from his grandfather. The idea that she could have invested her own savings into buying a ring and so provide him with a solid nest-egg does not even occur to him.

Tristram wrote: "Martin is really becoming more and more unpleasant in these chapters. His attitude towards Tom Pinch is very revealing of self-centredness, but he also fails to see the generosity and thoughtfulnes..."

Indeed, that was one of the moments I realized Mark was way more realistic in his jollidity, he did notice other angles more.

I think it's not his grandfather either who sent the money. He would have either written himself, or let Mary write (because she's probably the only one he trusts with it, and possibly because he'd find some petty joy in having her do something that sends her lover on a long and dangerous journey). Martin would likely know either of their handwritings, as you pointed out. And would Mark Tapley have sufficient funds to both give Martin those 20 pounds and pay for his own travels towards the new world? I expect not to be honest, although I wouldn't be surprised if he still is a richer man than Martin with all his bravado.

I wondered at Anthony Chuzzlewit and/or Jonas, to get Martin out of the way, but it would be a lot of expence for basically a gamble, because the absense of Martin Jr. wouldn't mean they'd benefit from Martin Sr. as things are now.

The only other person I can think of that might have the money and/or the inclination to help Martin might be John Westlock due to his friendship toward Tom and wanting to assist Tom's friend, although I do not see this as very likely. But somehow I am expecting another coincidence along the way, with a possible meeting of Martin with John in America.

As for Martin's character, this reminds me of the way I felt about Jane Austen's Emma, total annoyance. When I expressed this to my daughter (regarding Emma), she said that the author wanted to show the growth of the character. So, I am hoping that we will see growth and change in Martin.

It would be like John Westlock to send the money in such a discreet way, but how should he have got wind of Martin's eviction from the Pecksniff nest? I hope that Dickens will not have forgot about the 20 pounds when it comes to clearing up mysteries and unanswered questions in some later chapter.

Me too. Although it would be a stretch (but aren't we used to things being a stretch with Dickens?), I think John Westlock is indeed another option. Funny, I never thought about Westlock in this mystery, but now Bobby mentioned it ... he at once seems to be the most likely (or least unlikely) option.

I feel the same about Emma, Bobby. Although she did seem to have something nice over her, probably because she had at least a veneer of niceness over her, and someone who dared stop her when he saw her acting too self-centered.

Tristram wrote: "It would be like John Westlock to send the money in such a discreet way, but how should he have got wind of Martin's eviction from the Pecksniff nest? I hope that Dickens will not have forgot about..."

Tom Pinch knew about Martin's troubles, so he told both his sister and John Westlock of Martin's woes. I will assume his sister doesn't have any money laying around to give to an annoying person she doesn't even know, so I would think it was John Westlock. How does that sound? It should be Pecksniff, that would surprise us all.

Peter wrote: "Chapter 15

This chapter takes us across the Atlantic Ocean with Mark and Martin. For Mark, it is a pleasant voyage where he gets to help others and bolster their spirits. On the other hand, Martin..."

No! Don't let the ship cross the Atlantic Ocean, we don't want Martin here. Mark can stay though.

My favorite lines in this week's chapters:

Mr Tapley set himself to obey these orders with great alacrity, and pending their execution, it may be presumed his flagging spirits revived; inasmuch as he several times observed, below his breath, that in respect of its power of imparting a credit to jollity, the Screw unquestionably had some decided advantages over the Dragon. He also remarked that it was a high gratification to him to reflect that he would carry its main excellence ashore with him, and have it constantly beside him wherever he went; but what he meant by these consolatory thoughts he did not explain.

I'm going up," observed the driver; "Hounslow, ten miles this side London."

Chapter 13

Fred Barnard

Young Martin contemplates going up to London, and from thence emigrating to America to seek his fortune as an architect. Dickens considered this expedient as monthly sales began to fall.

Text Illustrated:

He was a red-faced burly young fellow; smart in his way, and with a good-humoured countenance. As he advanced towards the fire he touched his shining forehead with the forefinger of his stiff leather glove, by way of salutation; and said (rather unnecessarily) that it was an uncommon wet day.

‘Very wet,’ said Martin.

‘I don’t know as ever I see a wetter.’

‘I never felt one,’ said Martin.

The driver glanced at Martin’s soiled dress, and his damp shirt-sleeves, and his coat hung up to dry; and said, after a pause, as he warmed his hands:

‘You have been caught in it, sir?’

‘Yes,’ was the short reply.

‘Out riding, maybe?’ said the driver

‘I should have been, if I owned a horse; but I don’t,’ returned Martin.

‘That’s bad,’ said the driver.

‘And may be worse,’ said Martin.

Now the driver said ‘That’s bad,’ not so much because Martin didn’t own a horse, as because he said he didn’t with all the reckless desperation of his mood and circumstances, and so left a great deal to be inferred. Martin put his hands in his pockets and whistled when he had retorted on the driver; thus giving him to understand that he didn’t care a pin for Fortune; that he was above pretending to be her favourite when he was not; and that he snapped his fingers at her, the driver, and everybody else.

The driver looked at him stealthily for a minute or so; and in the pauses of his warming whistled too. At length he asked, as he pointed his thumb towards the road.

‘Up or down?’

‘Which is up?’ said Martin.

‘London, of course,’ said the driver.

‘Up then,’ said Martin. He tossed his head in a careless manner afterwards, as if he would have added, ‘Now you know all about it.’ put his hands deeper into his pockets; changed his tune, and whistled a little louder.

Martin Meets an Acquaintance at the House of a Mutual Relation

Chapter 13

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

The shopman was so highly entertained by this piece of humour that Mr. Tigg himself could not repress some little show of exultation. It vented itself, in part, in a desire to see how the occupant of the next box received his pleasantry; to ascertain which he glanced round the partition, and immediately, by the gaslight, recognized Martin.

"He wants money, sorely!" cried Mr. Tigg with excessive sympathy. "David, will you have the goodness to do your very utmost for my friend, who wants money sorely. You will deal with my friend as if he were myself. A gold hunting-watch, David, engine-turned, capped and jewelled in four holes, escape movement, horizontal lever, and warranted to perform correctly, upon my personal reputation, who have observed it narrowly for many years, under the most trying circumstances" — here he winked at Martin, that he might understand this recommendation would have an immense effect upon the shopman; "what do you say, David, to my friend?

The Ever-lively Montague Tigg Encountered Unexpectedly:

Lacking ready money, Martin has to visit his "uncle," the local pawnshop in London; thus, his meeting the perpetually indigent cadger Montague Tigg, confidant of Chuzzlewit scion Chevy Slyme, is not mere coincidence. The moment realized occurs in Chapter Thirteen: "I have removed my town establishment from thirty-eight Mayfair, to number fifteen-hundred-and-forty-two Park Lane," said Mr. Tigg; desiring to see how the occupant of the next box received his pleasantry, he glanced round the partition and recognized Martin." As Michael Steig noted in his Dickens Studies Annual article of 1972, the plate is closely based on George Cruikshank's "The Pawnshop" from Sketches by Boz (1838): the same door, the symbol of the three balls; the division of counter and private boxes, and the two clerks, a young woman with her elbows planted on the counter, concentrating on the transaction, and a workman in his cap leaning against the outer partition. Phiz's treatment of the subject, however, is freer and my dynamic, in part as the result of the injection of the ever-lively Montague Tigg. — Chapter 13.

The bourgeois virtue of the Pecksniffs is only temporarily defeated in the last of the first five monthly parts, for the subsequent travels of young Martin represent what is to him the severe humiliation of having to make his way in the world on his own, without name or connection. Dickens stresses this humiliation with the appearance of the odious Montague Tigg in the pawnshop where Martin seeks anonymity, and in depicting the scene Browne has used both an external allusion and emblematic details. George Cruikshank's etching for The Pawnbroker's Shop; in Sketches by Boz is surely the source for Browne's design in "Martin meets an acquaintance at the house of a mutual relation" (ch. 13). In each there is an open door decorated with the pawnbroker's emblem of three balls, and a desk counter with private cubicles. Even the arrangement of figures is the same, down to a workman in a shapeless cap. Phiz's design reverses Cruikshank's as one would expect if he had drawn directly in imitation of the original and transferred the drawing to the steel by his usual method. [Steig, Chapter 3, page 68]

The illustrator deploys the pawned family portraits to create a sense of dislocation for customers such as Tigg and Martin, who must abandon their personal connections with their pasts, with family and friends, in order to convert portable property into ready cash. The ancestral figures seem to look down from their frames in distaste at the sordid transactions occurring beneath them. As he pops his head around the cubicle, violating the line between pawnbroker and client, Tigg momentarily loses his beaver, so that the light-coloured hat momentarily takes on a life of its own, eerily floating above Tigg's hairy visage. His intrusive movement towards the right throws the viewer's attention to the next cubicle, in which a sombre Martin waits his turn.

The pawnbroker's show by George Cruikshank:

​Martin meets Tigg at the Pawnbroker's.

Chapter 13

Harry Furniss

1910

Text Illustrated:

He passed more Golden Balls than all the jugglers in Europe have juggled with, in the course of their united performances, before he could determine in favour of any particular shop where those symbols were displayed. In the end he came back to one of the first he had seen, and entering by a side-door in a court, where the three balls, with the legend "Money Lent,"​were repeated in a ghastly transparency, passed into one of a series of little closets, or private boxes, erected for the accommodation of the more bashful and uninitiated customers. He bolted himself in; pulled out his watch; and laid it on the counter.

"Upon my life and soul!"​said a low voice in the next box to the shopman who was in treaty with him, "you must make it more; you must make it a trifle more, you must indeed! You must dispense with one half-quarter of an ounce in weighing out your pound of flesh, my best of friends, and make it two-and-six."

Martin drew back involuntarily, for he knew the voice at once.

You're always full of your chaff,' said the shopman, rolling up the article (which looked like a shirt) quite as a matter of course, and nibbing his pen upon the counter. [. . .​.]

"You may put down what you please, my friend," quoth Mr Tigg. "The fact is still the same. The apartments for the under-butler and the fifth footman being of a most confounded low and vulgar kind at thirty-eight, Mayfair, I have been compelled, in my regard for the feelings which do them so much honour, to take on lease for seven, fourteen, or twenty-one years, renewable at the option of the tenant, the elegant and commodious family mansion, number fifteen-hundred-and-forty-two Park Lane. Make it two-and-six, and come and see me!"

The shopman was so highly entertained by this piece of humour that Mr​.​Tigg himself could not repress some little show of exultation. It vented itself, in part, in a desire to see how the occupant of the next box received his pleasantry; to ascertain which he glanced round the partition, and immediately, by the gaslight, recognized Martin.

"I wish I may die,"​said Mr.​Tigg, stretching out his body so far that his head was as much in Martin's little cell as Martin's own head was, "but this is one of the most tremendous meetings in Ancient or Modern History! How are you? What is the news from the agricultural districts? How are our friends the P.'s? Ha, ha! David, pay particular attention to this gentleman immediately, as a friend of mine, I beg."

"Here! Please to give me the most you can for this,​"said Martin, handing the watch to the shopman. "I want money sorely." [. . . .]

"I can lend you three pounds on this, if you like,"​said the shopman to Martin, confidentially. "It is very old-fashioned. I couldn't say more."

"And devilish handsome, too," cried Mr. Tigg. "Two-twelve-six for the watch, and seven-and-six for personal regard. I am gratified; it may be weakness, but I am. Three pounds will do. We take it. The name of my friend is Smivey: Chicken Smivey, of Holborn, twenty-six-and-a-half B: lodger."​Here he winked at Martin again, to apprise him that all the forms and ceremonies prescribed by law were now complied with, and nothing remained but the receipt for the money.

In point of fact, this proved to be the case, for Martin, who had no resource but to take what was offered him, signified his acquiescence by a nod of his head, and presently came out with the cash in his pocket. He was joined in the entry by Mr. Tigg, who warmly congratulated him, as he took his arm and accompanied him into the street, on the successful issue of the negotiation.​

Commentary: ​Coincidental Meeting at Uncle's:

​Even on his way to America, Dickensian coincidence plays a role in Martin's life as he encounters the decommissioned, disgraced officer Montague Tigg with his characteristic swagger and humorous bombast, who will shortly reinvent himself as the financier Tigg Montague. The node of all orbits for the indigent and desperate is the sign of the three balls, the pawnbroker's in London, an interior scene realistically described in the June 1843 steel-engraving Martin Meets an Acquaintance at the House of a Mutual Relation (Chapter ​13). In the Household Edition, however, Fred Barnard dramatizes the conclusion of the dialogue outside the pawnbroker's shop, after the completion of their respective transactions. The shop itself (especially in Phiz's version) and the manner in which negotiations are conducted in the cubicles recalls the shabby-genteel world of Sketches by Boz, Dickens's breakout work, a collection of essays, observations, and short stories about life in London's lower-middle class neighbourhoods. We have met Tigg before, of course, with his characteristic military swagger, his catch-phrase "upon my soul," and a pleading, persuasive manner reminiscent of that of Wilkins Micawber in David Copperfield:

They were both very busy on the afternoon succeeding the family's departure — Martin with the grammar–school, and Tom in balancing certain receipts of rents, and deducting Mr. Pecksniff's commission from the same; in which abstruse employment he was much distracted by a habit his new friend had of whistling aloud while he was drawing — when they were not a little startled by the unexpected obtrusion into that sanctuary of genius, of a human head which, although a shaggy and somewhat alarming head in appearance, smiled affably upon them from the doorway, in a manner that was at once waggish, conciliatory, and expressive of approbation.

"I am not industrious myself, gents both," said the head, "but I know how to appreciate that quality in others. I wish I may turn grey and ugly, if it isn't in my opinion, next to genius, one of the very charmingest qualities of the human mind. Upon my soul, I am grateful to my friend Pecksniff for helping me to the contemplation of such a delicious picture as you present. You remind me of Whittington, afterwards thrice Lord Mayor of London. I give you my unsullied word of honour, that you very strongly remind me of that historical character. You are a pair of Whittingtons, gents, without the cat; which is a most agreeable and blessed exception to me, for I am not attached to the feline species. My name is Tigg; how do you do?"

Furniss's version of the slinky vagabond and cadger is decidedly more slender and angular than previous iterations, but here are the same frogged military jacket, Satanic moustache and goatee, eye-glass and top-hat. Martin recoils within his respectable greatcoat about even being seen in a pawnbroker's. Behind the figures is a corpulent, middle-aged woman of masculine visage (Furniss's invention — since she is holding a gigantic hatbox, this might well be our first glimpse of Mrs. Gamp) about to enter one of the cubicles. In fact, he is fortunate in having an expert to guide him through this particular maze of Vanity Fair. Phiz's more dynamic view of the pawnbroker's shows us the business side of the operation as two different shopmen deal with Tigg and Martin simultaneously, whereas Furniss leaves the business end in obscurity and focuses on the two contrasting customers.

"Stuck his hands in his skirt-pockets and swaggered round the corner."

Chapter 13

Fred Barnard

Young Martin encounters the inveterate cadger Montague Tigg, outside "uncle's", a London pawnbroker with whom he has just struck a bargain in order to finance his expedition to America. Dickens considered this expedient as monthly sales began to fall.

Mr. Tapley Acts Third Party With Great Discretion

Chapter 14

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

"Fine weather indeed," Martin bitterly soliloquised, "to be wandering up and down here in, like a thief! Fine weather indeed, for a meeting of lovers in the open air, and in a public walk! . . . But he was stopped on the road to this reflection, if his thoughts tended that way, by her appearance at a short distance, on which he hurried forward to meet her. Her squire, Mr. Tapley, at the same time fell discreetly back, and surveyed the fog above him with an appearance of attentive interest.

"My dear Martin," said Mary.

"My dear Mary," said Martin; and lovers are such a singular kind of people that this is all they did say just then, though Martin took her arm, and her hand too, and they paced up and down a short walk that was least exposed to observation, half-a-dozen times.

Commentary:

In the dynamic moment realized, Mark with suitable discretion pretends to be intent upon the fog while Martin takes a letter he has written from his pocket, and reads it aloud to Mary, presumably to enjoy her praising his noble treatment of Tom Pinch: "'My dear Tom Pinch.' That's rather familiar perhaps, but I call him my dear Tom Pinch, because he likes it, and it pleases him" (Ch. 14). Since scene takes place in St. James' Park, London, the towers in the background probably belong to Westminster Abbey.

Dickens avoids any suggestion of impropriety in Martin's courtship of the chaste Mary Graham, his grandfather's nurse and companion, by underscoring the public nature of the site and making Mark's presence obvious. While he is away making his fortune in America, Martin entrusts Tom Pinch with the care of Mary, despite the fact that he has not known Tom very long — but perhaps such an egoist as Martin Chuzzlewit has made few true friends in school or among the extended Chuzzlewit clan.

"Seeing that there was no one near"

Chapter 14

Fred Barnard

Text Illustrated:

‘I have heard, to my surprise, that he is a better man than was supposed.’

‘I thought so,’ interrupted Martin.

‘And that it is likely we may come to know him, if not to visit and reside with him and—I think—his daughters. He has daughters, has he, love?’

‘A pair of them,’ Martin answered. ‘A precious pair! Gems of the first water!’

‘Ah! You are jesting!’

‘There is a sort of jesting which is very much in earnest, and includes some pretty serious disgust,’ said Martin. ‘I jest in reference to Mr Pecksniff (at whose house I have been living as his assistant, and at whose hands I have received insult and injury), in that vein. Whatever betides, or however closely you may be brought into communication with this family, never forget that, Mary; and never for an instant, whatever appearances may seem to contradict me, lose sight of this assurance—Pecksniff is a scoundrel.’

‘Indeed!’

‘In thought, and in deed, and in everything else. A scoundrel from the topmost hair of his head, to the nethermost atom of his heel. Of his daughters I will only say that, to the best of my knowledge and belief, they are dutiful young ladies, and take after their father closely. This is a digression from the main point, and yet it brings me to what I was going to say.’

He stopped to look into her eyes again, and seeing, in a hasty glance over his shoulder, that there was no one near, and that Mark was still intent upon the fog, not only looked at her lips, too, but kissed them into the bargain.

Fred Barnard's nineteenth illustration is of St. James' Park, London, between Bird Cage Walk and The Mall, Young Martin experiences a bitter-sweet parting from Mary Graham, hopeful of returning from America having made his fortune in architecture and ready to claim her as his bride.

Mark Tapley's Sympathetic Sneeze

Chapter 14

Harry Furniss

Text Illustrated:

"The half-hour's a-going!" cried Mr. Tapley.

"Good-bye a hundred times!" cried Mary, in a trembling voice.

But how cold the comfort in Good-bye! Mark Tapley knew it perfectly. Perhaps he knew it from his reading, perhaps from his experience, perhaps from intuition. It is impossible to say; but however he knew it, his knowledge instinctively suggested to him the wisest course of proceeding that any man could have adopted under the circumstances. He was taken with a violent fit of sneezing, and was obliged to turn his head another way. In doing which, he, in a manner fenced and screened the lovers into a corner by themselves.

"There was a short pause, but Mark had an undefined sensation that it was a satisfactory one in its way. Then Mary, with her veil lowered, passed him with a quick step, and beckoned him to follow. She stopped once more before they lost that corner; looked back; and waved her hand to Martin. He made a start towards them at the moment as if he had some other farewell words to say; but she only hurried off the faster, and Mr. Tapley followed as in duty bound.

Commentary:

While Martin and Mary say their good-byes under the cover of darkness in St. James's Park, London, Mark Tapley stands guard. As a gift that he may redeem if in dire financial need, Mary Graham gives Martin a diamond ring. The 1910 Furniss illustration is his re-interpretation of a similar illustration in the original monthly serilisation by Hablot Knight Browne, Mr. Tapley Acts Third Party With Great Discretion Jolly Under Creditable Circumstances for Chapter 14 (Part Six, June 1843 ). However, whereas Phiz focusses in the park scene on the lovers, placing lounging figure of Mark Tapley to one side, Furniss has foregrounded the yawning lookout who seems oblivious to the romantic tryst transpiring between Martin and Mary (right rear). Although Furniss is utilizing the visual conventions for Mark established by Phiz, he reinterprets the scene as a dark plate which shows evidence of a ruling machine and throws the trees in the background into blurred obscurity, in contrast to the more clearly seen tree trunks, iron railings, and distant towers of Westminster Abbey in the 1843 original. And his subject is now the comedian rather than the lovers.

Ticknor-Fields mid-nineteenth-century American illustrator Sol Eytinge, Jr., depicted Mark with young Martin as a dual character study that Furniss may not have seen, but which also embodies the visual traditions for the novel established by Phiz. The second American Household Edition frontispiece by Felix Octavius Carr Darley (1863), however, diverges somewhat from the figure of Mark one sees throughout Phiz's steel-engravings as he is more lithe, better dressed, and less whimsical, as one sees in "Jolly sort of lodgings," said Mark, in which Darley has created a different Mark Tapley. Heree, Martin's Sancho Panza-like guide and companion is a sharper dresser, his sporting clothing contrasting the more sober, professional and bourgeois clothing of his partner in misery, young Martin. The "flash" waistcoat and top-boots reference his having served as an hostler at the Blue Dragon Inn, but Darley may also be alluding to the kind of waistcoat young Dickens himself favoured.

However, the direct source for Furniss's realisation of the lovers' tender farewell in the metropolitan park (civilised nature) which Mark and Martin are about to exchange for the backwoods of America is Fred Barnard's Household Edition wood-engraving Seeing that there was no one near, and that Mark was still intent upon the fog, he not only looked at her lips, but kissed them into the bargain (1872) — the emphasis here being the activities of the lovers rather than of Mark as the lookout. Having, like Harry Furniss and other later illustrators, read the entire text in advance and therefore having realized the importance of the jovial Mark to the subsequent narrative, the social realist and humorist Fred Barnard divides the focus of the composition between the seated Mark Tapley, feigning to be unaware of what is transpiring in the left-hand register. Barnard subtly changes the location of the park by placing the Baroque dome of St. Paul's Cathedral in the upper-right quadrant, but continues with the early evening temporal setting with deepening shadows in the background. Furniss clearly consulted this scene, although he engulfs the park in darkness, and provides no such landmarks to situate the scene in London. Phiz's interpretation, incidentally, is preferable to Barnard's, as St. James's Park is located in the City of Westminster. Its remodeling in 1826–27, commissioned by the Prince Regent (later, King George IV), was directed by landscape gardener John Nash, but it had been popular as a public park since the mid-eighteenth century, and therefore was a logical rendezvous for the lovers on the even of Martin's departure for "Columbia." Uncertain as to what landmark would be appropriate, Furniss has avoided the problem entirely by offering no such contextual building profile.

Furniss reiterates the jaunty figure of Mark in this later chapter without reference to any particular context, an example of character portraiture not unlike that of turn-of-the-century commercial artist Clayton J. Clarke (otherwise, "Kyd"), who provided a fetching portrait of the jolly ostler, again without reference to any particular textual moment, in number 34 of the Players' Cigarette card series, Mark Tapley (1910).

Might as well give it to you since the previous commentary mentioned it:





Commentary:

Of the set of 50 cigarette cards, initially produced in 1910 and reissued in 1923, fully 13 or over 25% concern a single novel, The Pickwick Papers, attesting to the enduring popularity of the picaresque comic novel and also suggesting that the later, darker novels such as Our Mutual Friend and The Mystery of Edwin Drood offered little for the caricaturist, the only late characters in the series being the singularly unpleasant Silas Wegg and Rogue Riderhood from Our Mutual Friend, and Turveydrop, Jo, Bucket, and Chadband from Bleak House. The popular taste was clearly still towards the earlier farce and character comedy of Dickens. The series includes a total of just three character cards from the cast of Martin Chuzzlewit (1843-44), or 6% of the total: Seth Pecksniff, no. 23; Sairey Gamp, no. 24; and the indefatigibly ebullient and "jolly" Mark Tapley, no. 34 — characterisations based on the original serial illustrations of Dickens's regular visual interpreter in the 1840s, Phiz, who produced forty steel-engravings and the wrapper design for the Chapman and Hall serial, as well as two vignettes for the two-volume Library Edition: Meekness of Mr. Pecksniff and his Charming Daughters and Mrs. Gamp 'Propoges' a Toast.

Although Kyd's representations are largely based on the original illustrations by Hablot Knight Browne (Phiz), the modelling of the figures is suggestive of those of celebrated Dickensian illustrator Fred Barnard for the Household Edition volume of the 1870s. The anomaly, of course, is that Kyd should elect to depict minor figures from the first Dickens novel such as the Dingley Dell cricketers Dumkins and Luffey and the minor antagonist Major Bagstock in Dombey and Son, but omit significant characters from such later, still-much-read novels as A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations. Five of the fifty cards or 10% of the series come from the cast of The Adventures of Oliver Twist; or, The Parish Boy's Progress (1837-39): Oliver himself, asking for more; Fagin with his toasting fork, from the scene in which he prepares dinner for his crew; Sikes holding a beer-mug, and the Artful Dodger in an oversized adult topcoat and crushed top-hat, as he appeared at his trial. Surprisingly, some of the other significant characters, including Nancy and Rose Maylie, are not among the first set of fifty characters, in which Kyd exhibits a strong male bias, as he realizes only seven female characters: only the beloved Nell, the abrasive Sally Brass, and the quirky Marchioness from The Old Curiosity Shop, Sairey Gamp from Martin Chuzzlewit, Aunt Betsey Trotwood from David Copperfield, the burly Mrs. McStinger from Dombey and Son, and the awkward Fanny Squeers from Nicholas Nickleby appear in the essentially comic cavalcade.

The 1843-44 picaresque novel contains several brilliant comic creations, including the peripheral slatternly sick-room nurse Sarah ("Sairey") Gamp and Mark Tapley, the steadfast companion and foil to the story's pallid protagonist, young Martin Chuzzlewit. In the Kyd series, Mark Tapley is designated by his Christian name, implying that he is not a member of the middle class. Unlike the other significant working-class comic character, Sairey Gamp, Mark makes his appearance relatively early in the nineteen-month serial, in Chapter 5. In the original set of forty illustrations, the indefatigibly jolly Sancho Panza figure appears prominently in a number of the steel engravings, beginning with the March 1843 installment's Mark Begins to be Jolly Under Creditable Circumstances (Chapter 8). Although he is a secondary character in the novel's rambling plot, the stout-hearted Cockney ostler has a less prominent role in the new series of illustrations in the Chapman and Hall reissue of the novel in the Household Edition. The project's lead illustrator, Fred Barnard, recognizing Mark's importance as a foil to hypocritical characters, makes him a significant presence in the new illustrations in a manner which is both consistent with Phiz's original conception and which makes Mark more than a mere comic servant of Plautan comedy. In Barnard's illustrations, a more dashing Mark appears early in the sequence in "He turned a whimsical face and a very merry pair of blue eyes on Mr. Pinch" (Chapter 5), and thereafter three times. Kyd's interpretation has much in common with both Phiz's and Barnard's. The 1867 Diamond Edition volume, which Kyd is not likely to have seen, contains a paired character study entitled Martin Chuzzlewit and Mark Tapley, in which Ticknor Fields' house illustrator, Sol Eytinge, Junior, provides the lineaments of the healthy, cheerful Mark, but adds the full sideburns and a bow-tie. Assimilating all of these, Kyd's interpretation is closer to the original than the dapper figure in Felix Octavius Carr Darley's frontispiece, "Jolly sort of lodgings," said Mark (1863), in which his smart waistcoat and riding-crop suggest a "horsey" and sporting background, in contrast to Martin's professional dress and pen which make him look like young Charles Dickens.

"I am going," he added slowly, looking far into the deep wonder of her bright dark eyes, "abroad."

Chapter 14

Charles Edmund Brock

Text Illustrated:

‘Why, as to that, my love,’ said Martin as he drew her waist within his arm, first looking round to see that there were no observers near, and beholding Mr Tapley more intent than ever on the fog; ‘it would be strange if I did not; for my life—especially of late—has been a hard one.’

‘I know it must have been,’ she answered. ‘When have I forgotten to think of it and you?’

‘Not often, I hope,’ said Martin. ‘Not often, I am sure. Not often, I have some right to expect, Mary; for I have undergone a great deal of vexation and privation, and I naturally look for that return, you know.’

‘A very, very poor return,’ she answered with a fainter smile. ‘But you have it, and will have it always. You have paid a dear price for a poor heart, Martin; but it is at least your own, and a true one.’

‘Of course I feel quite certain of that,’ said Martin, ‘or I shouldn’t have put myself in my present position. And don’t say a poor heart, Mary, for I say a rich one. Now, I am about to break a design to you, dearest, which will startle you at first, but which is undertaken for your sake. I am going,’ he added slowly, looking far into the deep wonder of her bright dark eyes, ‘abroad.’

‘Abroad, Martin!’

‘Only to America. See now. How you droop directly!’

‘If I do, or, I hope I may say, if I did,’ she answered, raising her head after a short silence, and looking once more into his face, ‘it was for grief to think of what you are resolved to undergo for me. I would not venture to dissuade you, Martin; but it is a long, long distance; there is a wide ocean to be crossed; illness and want are sad calamities in any place, but in a foreign country dreadful to endure. Have you thought of all this?’

‘Thought of it!’ cried Martin, abating, in his fondness—and he was very fond of her—hardly an iota of his usual impetuosity. ‘What am I to do? It’s very well to say, “Have I thought of it?” my love; but you should ask me in the same breath, have I thought of starving at home; have I thought of doing porter’s work for a living; have I thought of holding horses in the streets to earn my roll of bread from day to day? Come, come,’ he added, in a gentler tone, ‘do not hang down your head, my dear, for I need the encouragement that your sweet face alone can give me. Why, that’s well! Now you are brave again.’

On board the "Screw"

Chapter 15

Fred Barnard

Text Illustrated:

Mark looked about him wistfully, and his face brightened as he looked. Here an old grandmother was crooning over a sick child, and rocking it to and fro, in arms hardly more wasted than its own young limbs; here a poor woman with an infant in her lap, mended another little creature’s clothes, and quieted another who was creeping up about her from their scanty bed upon the floor. Here were old men awkwardly engaged in little household offices, wherein they would have been ridiculous but for their good-will and kind purpose; and here were swarthy fellows—giants in their way—doing such little acts of tenderness for those about them, as might have belonged to gentlest-hearted dwarfs. The very idiot in the corner who sat mowing there, all day, had his faculty of imitation roused by what he saw about him; and snapped his fingers to amuse a crying child.

‘Now, then,’ said Mark, nodding to a woman who was dressing her three children at no great distance from him—and the grin upon his face had by this time spread from ear to ear—‘Hand over one of them young ‘uns according to custom.’

‘I wish you’d get breakfast, Mark, instead of worrying with people who don’t belong to you,’ observed Martin, petulantly.

‘All right,’ said Mark. ‘She’ll do that. It’s a fair division of labour, sir. I wash her boys, and she makes our tea. I never could make tea, but any one can wash a boy.’

The woman, who was delicate and ill, felt and understood his kindness, as well she might, for she had been covered every night with his greatcoat, while he had for his own bed the bare boards and a rug. But Martin, who seldom got up or looked about him, was quite incensed by the folly of this speech, and expressed his dissatisfaction by an impatient groan.

‘So it is, certainly,’ said Mark, brushing the child’s hair as coolly as if he had been born and bred a barber.

‘What are you talking about, now?’ asked Martin.

‘What you said,’ replied Mark; ‘or what you meant, when you gave that there dismal vent to your feelings. I quite go along with it, sir. It is very hard upon her.’

‘What is?’

‘Making the voyage by herself along with these young impediments here, and going such a way at such a time of the year to join her husband. If you don’t want to be driven mad with yellow soap in your eye, young man,’ said Mr Tapley to the second urchin, who was by this time under his hands at the basin, ‘you’d better shut it.’

Barnard may well have had such emigrant illustrations as The Emigrants in mind when highlighting the social utility of Mark Tapley's jolliness in steerage, where the affable Cockney assists the adult passengers with their children.



The Emigrants

Phiz

For Chapter 57 of David Copperfield.

Kim wrote: "My favorite lines in this week's chapters:

Mr Tapley set himself to obey these orders with great alacrity, and pending their execution, it may be presumed his flagging spirits revived; inasmuch as..."

Yes, that's a very good quotation. It quite sums up the relationship between Martin and Mark at this point, and also the motive Mark might have for sticking around a pompous ass like Martin. Looking at it from this point of view, i.e. seeing how much importance Mark attaches to the idea of making himself miserable in order to prove his capacity for jollity, one might even assume that Mark sent the money to Martin in order to enable him to go on that adventure and to take Mark with him. Still the question remains: Where would Mark have got so much money?

Kim wrote: "





On board the "Screw"

Chapter 15

Fred Barnard

Text Illustrated:

Mark looked about him wistfully, and his face brightened as he looked. Here an old grandmother was crooning over a sick chil..."

Kim

What a cornucopia of pictures this week. Many treats from your Halloween bag of goodies.

I was struck by the two repeated images. One was the collection of illustrations featuring Mary and Martin. In these illustrations we have the two lovers meeting alone while Mark stands on the lookout. This collected group of illustrations speak of partings, love, and a potential future. To me, there is a feel of isolation in each of the illustrations.

The other collection of illustrations deal with the accommodations aboard “The Screw.” You have added the Cruikshank plate of The Emigrants from David Copperfield as well. Here, we have images of partings, love, and hope for the future. The difference is these illustrations show crowded groups of men, women, and children. Both images, those of Mary and Martin alone in an isolated park and the second group representing not only Mark and Martin but countless others who seek a better future for themselves and those they love.

The interplay of a similar theme represented by two lovers in one set of illustrations and then again of the masses in search of a better future in the other plates was striking to me. I have never realized the connection and juxtaposition that weaves throughout these chapters concerning people and their futures.

EXTRA! EXTRA!

TIGG AND SLYME SEPARATE, DIVORCE TO FOLLOW.

In other news . . .

-- Far from home, Martin and Tigg fall over one another in a pawn shop somewhere in the vastness that is London. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. Play it again, Tom.

-- Martin strolls the streets of London thinking he might next have the good fortune to fall over Westlock. No Westlock is found, but while Martin is out searching for his prey the tooth fairy visits his home and leaves a big fat present under his pillow.

Next!

-- Jolly Mark Tapley steps up to the batter's box and hits a home run on the first pitch.

-- It's getting quite crowded in London.

-- And the crowd grows. It seems Mary too is here. And Mark is going to write her a letter???? My good man, Mark, you are usually quicker than this. Go for a walk and fall over her.

-- Stay tuned to see what happens next to our hero. Will or will not Sir Martin have the good fortune to find a little mercy and charity on Charing Cross Road?

Kim wrote: "

I'm going up," observed the driver; "Hounslow, ten miles this side London."

Chapter 13

Fred Barnard

Young Martin contemplates going up to London, and from thence emigrating to America to seek ..."

I love this illustration;; it is so well done.

Kim wrote: "

On board the "Screw"

Chapter 15

Fred Barnard"

More great illustrating, and I like the black and white better than the color.

Bobbie wrote: "The only other person I can think of that might have the money and/or the inclination to help Martin might be John Westlock due to his friendship toward Tom and wanting to assist Tom's friend, alth..."

I also suspect John Westlock. Besides old Martin Chuzzlewit, John is the only character that we've met so far that has the means to send this money. As to why he would want to do this. . . no clue. Maybe Westlock has seen the self-centered-ness of Martin's character and thinks a trip to America would sort him out? Why he would feel the need to become responsible for Martin's character, I couldn't guess. As Tristram says, I do hope this mystery is solved!

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "EXTRA! EXTRA!

TIGG AND SLYME SEPARATE, DIVORCE TO FOLLOW.

In other news . . .

-- Far from home, Martin and Tigg fall over one another in a pawn shop somewhere in the vastness that is London. Of ..."

Xan,

A very funny newspaper style recap of this week's events! Yes, people tend to fall over each other in Dickens's London, which must be a village in a way. It reminds me of the detective stories by Francis Durbridge, where people also run into each other in London, or see each other and remember it for ages.

"Mrs. Jenkins told you she was in Sweden? That must be a lie because I distinctly remember seeing her alight from a taxi in Pall Mall on 06 September, at 2.35 p.m. She wore a blue dress at the time."

That's a typical Durbridge sentence ;-)

I'm going to have to read Durbridge. At least one.

Chapter 14

So someone tell me why I feel Mary and Martin are a bad match?

Mark Tapley is a strange dude!

Mark and Martin are a strange couple!

Neither have any money, yet one hires himself out to the other, and both leave for America without a spare shilling. This should be a jolly trip. Just what Mark thinks he is looking for. I guess America was where one went to make one's fortune.

How much did passage to America cost for two people back then?

Martin strikes me as one of those chaps who impress you in conversation, except for some little mannerism or some offhand remark that warns you things are not as they first appear. There's something wrong with Marin, but what?

I think Mary gives Martin the ring so he can pawn it, because she knows he needs money, and I'm betting he does pawn it. She sees right through Martin, so what gives? Why the devotion? Love? Or kindness shown a troubled lad? His grandfather took care of her, so she thinks she owes his grandson?

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "I'm going to have to read Durbridge. At least one."

Durbridge used to be very popular in Germany, and there were a lot of TV movies based on his books and I think even scripted by him. There were also lots of Paul Temple radio plays in the 50s or 60s. When I was a teenager, I listened to lots of them and always enjoyed them but could not help noticing that everybody ran into everybody else in Durbridge's London.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Martin strikes me as one of those chaps who impress you in conversation, except for some little mannerism or some offhand remark that warns you things are not as they first appear. There's somethin..."

I know too little about Mary Garth to figure out why she is in love with Martin. Or maybe, I know too much about Martin to figure this out ;-)

Kim wrote: "My favorite lines in this week's chapters:

Mr Tapley set himself to obey these orders with great alacrity, and pending their execution, it may be presumed his flagging spirits revived; inasmuch as..."

I love those, too. I also like how Martin is reduced in that quote to an "it."

Kim wrote: "Tristram wrote: "It would be like John Westlock to send the money in such a discreet way, but how should he have got wind of Martin's eviction from the Pecksniff nest? I hope that Dickens will not ..."

It could be John Westlock, who might also feel some responsibility for giving Martin the America idea. But I'm not ruling out Martin Senior, as I think he's playing a deep game with Pecksniff. Or at least I want to think he's playing a deep game with Pecksniff, as this would be far more entertaining that him being hoodwinked.

It's a puzzle to me how anyone could be hoodwinked by Pecksniff, and the fact that Tom Pinch is kind of leaves me feeling Tom makes virtue look bad. I know we're supposed to love him and all, but I am very glad to be leaving him behind and having much brighter, much more ironically-inclined Mark take Tom's place as the counter to Martin the younger's selfishness.

Also I didn't anticipate Mark assuming such a central role, and I kind of wonder if this is part of the possible adjustment to counter low sales that's been discussed here before. Mark has a kind of Pickwick Sam feel to him, though Martin is no Pickwick.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Martin strikes me as one of those chaps who impress you in conversation, except for some little mannerism or some offhand remark that warns you things are not as they first appear. There's somethin..."

Yes. There is not much to recommend Martin to Mary yet.

Chapter 15

-- "... ship in gallant combat with the elements ..."

-- Love the introductory narrative to this chapter. Sets up the wretchedness of the voyage. (Well chosen word, Martin, even though you are petulant.) Glad I never had to do it. Steerage anyone?

-- "I never could make tea." Hahahaha!! I bet Mark can't make spaghetti either. Throw it against the wall!! Mark, the Jolly Chef.

-- Oooh, Martin is seasick. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. But if he's seasick why does he want breakfast? How can he think about food?

-- Tapley is impressive. Maybe I should practice being jolly.

-- "I lie here because I don't wish to be recognized." Where the hell has Mark been hanging out? He's in Steerage on the Screw. Perhaps he thinks he will meet Chuzzlewit relatives.

Julie wrote: "Kim wrote: "Tristram wrote: "It would be like John Westlock to send the money in such a discreet way, but how should he have got wind of Martin's eviction from the Pecksniff nest? I hope that Dicke..."

Yes, how anyone can be led up the garden path by someone like Pecksniff is difficult to figure out. Most of the characters in the novel aren't: John Westlock isn't, Mark Tapley isn't, Young Martin isn't but that's maybe because he is too self-centred to believe in anyone's claim to altruism - remember how he scoffs at Tom for playing the organ without charging for it -, and Anthony Chuzzlewit isn't, either. Neither is his son, probably.

The only people who are hoodwinked by that old hypocrite are the Pinches, and Mrs. Lupin. I can't remember anyone else. Apparently even Mrs. Todgers is able to see through Pecksniff.

Considering all this, it is difficult to believe that Mr. Pecksniff is all too successful an impostor.

Julie wrote: "Also I didn't anticipate Mark assuming such a central role, and I kind of wonder if this is part of the possible adjustment to counter low sales that's been discussed here before. Mark has a kind o..."

Yes, Julie, that's a good point. Mark might not originally have been such a prominent character. His intention to leave The Dragon arose nearly at the same time when Martin's departure was on the cards, I think.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: " "I lie here because I don't wish to be recognized." Where the hell has Mark been hanging out? He's in Steerage on the Screw. Perhaps he thinks he will meet Chuzzlewit relatives"

Yes, this shows how snobbish Martin is, doesn't it? The idea of having to travel in steerage is odious to him, but the idea of anyone knowing of this - even though these are doubtless all anyones that neither know him nor care for him - is apparently an utter humiliation to him. He was not so proud when he accepted an anonymous person's gift of 20 pounds.

Peter wrote: "Chapter 13

We have had a couple of coincidences in this chapter. Do you think Dickens puts too much reliance on this plot device?..."

Not yet. History tells us that may be the case as we progress, but I'm hoping Dickens is maturing as an author and won't rely on it quite so much. Hope springs eternal!

Like Peter, I'm done making excuses for Martin's selfishness, pride, and arrogance. If it ever was considered charming, it certainly is no more.

This is the second time that Martin has paid off Tigg, ensuring that Tigg will continue to show up. Why is the Chuzzlewit relative, Slyme, off-stage so much of the time, while his (former?) friend, Tigg, is getting so much attention? And is Martin just being naive, or does he want Tigg gone for reasons we aren't yet aware of?

If we're taking a poll, I think Mark is responsible for the £20. My theory is that he was looking out for Tom, i.e. making sure Martin didn't try to go to him for more money, as well as being charitable, but knowing Martin might not accept charity (though we may suspect otherwise). Just a theory -- perhaps this mystery has been solved for the rest of you by now.

London does seem to be a small town in Dickens' novels, but I tell myself that it actually WAS smaller at the time, and that people had no cars, so most everyone was out and about on foot, where they could see and be seen. Plus, class differences being what they were, people of the same socio-economic status probably frequented the same locations more so than today. So finding people in London IS a stretch, but one I'm willing to accept.

Peter wrote: "Chapter 14
The scene in this chapter where the teenaged character Mary gives Martin a ring has fascinated some Dickens scholars for years. ..."

Ooh... I'd love to hear a symposium on this subject!

Someone mentioned earlier the similar immaturity between Nicholas Nickleby and Martin. Both had/have a lot of growing to do. But Chuzzlewit and Ralph are not the same. As far as I can tell, Chuzzlewit isn't cruel, heartless, or selfish - and the more we get to know Jr, the more I think Sr. is wise to have cut him off! Nicholas matured. Will Martin?

Peter wrote: "At the end of the chapter we see that he is smiling and then speaks what appears to be the rather enigmatic word “Jolly.” What do you think the meaning is behind this word?..."

I think Mark realized that there is a great deal of credit in being jolly around a narcissist like Martin.

PS I had the same thought as Xan re: Mary's ring. I believe she gave it to Martin not only as a keepsake, but as something valuable that could be sold if need be. It says a lot for Mary's character, but perhaps not much for her opinion of Martin, or her good judgment in choosing a husband.

Peter wrote: "Chapter 15
Mark ... responds with a hopeful, positive tone and comments that “Virtue’s its own reward. So’s jollity.”.."

Mark is, undoubtedly, a fine fellow. But, honest to God, I'm getting really tired of him TALKING about being jolly ALL THE TIME. Just do it, man! Just as it gets harder to be sorry for someone the more they feel sorry for themselves, it's getting more and more difficult to appreciate Mark's Pollyanna attitude as he continues to point it out to all of us. I kind of hope something happens now that they're in the US that will wipe the smile off Mark's face for a bit. One needs occasional darkness to appreciate the light. With luck, it will involve taking Martin down a peg.

Mary Lou wrote: "Peter wrote: "Chapter 13

We have had a couple of coincidences in this chapter. Do you think Dickens puts too much reliance on this plot device?..."

Not yet. History tells us that may be the case ..."

Mary Lou.

OK. That’s one vote for Mark as the person behind the £20. Your logic is solid.