The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Dear Curiosities,

In Chapter 42 we can witness what happens when Jonas and Montague are on their way to Salisbury in ”one of those hot, silent nights, when people sit at windows listening for the thunder which they know will shortly break; when they recall dismal tales of hurricanes and earthquakes; and of lonely travellers on open plains, and lonely ships at sea, struck by lightning.” The setting is undoubtedly ominous in that a thunderstorm is gathering, and the silence prevailing now is just the lull before that very storm, whose signs cannot be overlooked. Our narrator uses quasi-Shakespearean language to describe that kind of weather:

”and the prevailing stillness was the more solemn, from the dull intelligence that seemed to hover in the air, of noise and conflict afar off.

It was very dark; but in the murky sky there were masses of cloud which shone with a lurid light, like monstrous heaps of copper that had been heated in a furnace, and were growing cold. These had been advancing steadily and slowly, but they were now motionless, or nearly so. As the carriage clattered round the corners of the streets, it passed at every one a knot of persons who had come there — many from their houses close at hand, without hats — to look up at that quarter of the sky. And now a very few large drops of rain began to fall, and thunder rumbled in the distance.”

I hesitate to underline or italicize certain expressions in these two paragraphs, but they really struck me with their sense of foreboding. – What might their function be in this context?

Our two inside travellers – the coachman and young Bailey are obviously outside – don’t try to while away the time by conversation but each one keeps his own counsel. About Jonas, we learn that ”[i]nstinctively attracted by the night, he had laid aside the pack of cards upon the cushion; and with the same involuntary impulse, so intelligible to both of them as not to occasion a remark on either side, his companion had extinguished the lamp.” Which brings me on to the next question: Why would Jonas “instinctively” shun the light?

Although the weather is bad and the atmosphere inside the coach is dismal, the two people are carried forth ”as if they were led on by an invisible attraction.” It's getting darker, and only flashes of lightning shed some bizarre and intense light on what is outside and inside the coach from time to time, and in some of these spells of light, Jonas sees people outside and has the feeling that they are watching him, an impression which makes him sullenly draw down the blinds of the window. Montague, in one of these spells of lightning, has the impression of seeing his fellow-traveller in a menacing posture right in front of him, and he is so terrified that he orders the coach to stop, asking himself whether he had become drowsy and closed his eyes or whether what he saw was real. He doesn’t ask Jonas, though, which would probably not have been a clever idea, anyway. When they resume their journey, Montague thinks about having young Bailey inside the coach with them, as he says, because of the rain – but Jonas scoffs at the idea and expresses his hopes that Bailey should get really soaked. Strangely, for all his morose comments, Jonas seems to be getting more and more exuberant, in a grim sort of way, and Montague is more and more cowed by Jonas – it seems more and more that the tables are turned now and that it is no longer Montague who holds Jonas at his mercy, but rather the other way around, and Jonas even starts singing an eerie song whose chorus ends like this,

”And it [the lightning] won’t save the head
That is doom’d to be rifled and riven.”

Montague is more and more overwhelmed by his cowardice, thinking that if Jonas could kill him by a wish, he’d certainly do it, and he comforts himself with the thought that before long, he, Montague, will abscond across the water with the company’s money. Then, all of a sudden, the carriage comes to grief because one of the horses slips, and all is lost and topsy-turvey. Jonas is able to get out of the coach, and seeing Montague lying on the road, apparently unconscious, he tries to get one of the restive horses nearer the other man’s head, tugging and tearing at the animals rein, making it more and more jumpy. Before he can execute his fateful plan, however, the coachman interferes and gets Montague out of the way, not suspecting that Jonas wanted to kill a man but thinking he was simply careless in his attempts at freeing the horse.

Montague recovers and it soon becomes known to the men that young Bailey has suffered most from the accident: He is obviously at death’s door. Jonas wants to send the coachman off on a horse to get some help for the injured boy – or rather, to be alone with Montague, but our cowardly mountebank will not hear of being left alone with Jonas. Even though every minute saved might be valuable with regard to getting Bailey round again, he insists that they all walk to the next town and carry the injured boy with them. When they finally get a doctor and the medical man tells them that it might be too late to save Bailey, Montague grieves – not so much at losing the boy at all but at losing him right now.

In the following night, Montague has a very strange dream, which is so mysterious that it deserves being quoted in full length here:

”There was another door in the room, but it was locked on the outer side; and with what place it communicated, he knew not.

His fears or evil conscience reproduced this door in all his dreams. He dreamed that a dreadful secret was connected with it; a secret which he knew, and yet did not know, for although he was heavily responsible for it, and a party to it, he was harassed even in his vision by a distracting uncertainty in reference to its import. Incoherently entwined with this dream was another, which represented it as the hiding–place of an enemy, a shadow, a phantom; and made it the business of his life to keep the terrible creature closed up, and prevent it from forcing its way in upon him. With this view Nadgett, and he, and a strange man with a bloody smear upon his head (who told him that he had been his playfellow, and told him, too, the real name of an old schoolmate, forgotten until then), worked with iron plates and nails to make the door secure; but though they worked never so hard, it was all in vain, for the nails broke, or changed to soft twigs, or what was worse, to worms, between their fingers; the wood of the door splintered and crumbled, so that even nails would not remain in it; and the iron plates curled up like hot paper. All this time the creature on the other side — whether it was in the shape of man, or beast, he neither knew nor sought to know — was gaining on them. But his greatest terror was when the man with the bloody smear upon his head demanded of him if he knew this creatures name, and said that he would whisper it. At this the dreamer fell upon his knees, his whole blood thrilling with inexplicable fear, and held his ears. But looking at the speaker’s lips, he saw that they formed the utterance of the letter ‘J’; and crying out aloud that the secret was discovered, and they were all lost, he awoke.”

I’m curious about your interpretations of this dream. Some elements seem rather obvious, others don’t, at least to me. Why would the narrator include Montague’s dream in the first place?

When waking up from this dream, Montague wakes up to even more horrors for he finds none other but Jonas staring down at him. Apparently, the second door of his room is directly connected with Jonas’s room, a state of affairs Montague later corrects by getting the key and securing the door from his own side.

QUESTIONS
What do you think of the atmosphere of this chapter? How is mood created? What do we learn about the two scoundrels who are at loggerheads with each other? What does Montague’s treatment of Bailey show about him? – Does this chapter remind you of similar scenes from Dickens?

Chapter 43

This is the longest chapter from this week’s instalment but it can be divided into two bits, one of which can be summarized very quickly. In the first part of Chapter 43, the setting is the Blue Dragon where Mrs. Lupin is spending the evening of the thunderstorm in a thoughtful mood. What struck me as odd is the following passage:

“As a mark of her respect for the lightning, Mrs Lupin had removed her candle to the chimney–piece. Her basket of needle–work stood unheeded at her elbow; her supper, spread on a round table not far off, was untasted; and the knives had been removed for fear of attraction.“

Apparently, Victorians thought that cutlery and lit candles attracted lightning. It would be interesting to learn more about Victorian notions of danger during a thunderstorm, wouldn’t it? But we are not given any more particulars. Instead, Mark Tapley – in a form of disguise, though – appears on the scene and plays a harmless trick on Mrs. Lupin before giving her the delightful surprise of making himself known to her. He tells her that Martin, who is still waiting outside, and he will enter the inn as soon as the guests in the kitchen parlour have cleared out – for they don’t want to attract general notice yet.

When they have finally installed themselves, Mrs. Lupin tells them about all the new developments that have taken place during their absence, and we also learn that Mr. Pinch has sent back the 5 pound bill, unbroken, to Mrs. Lupin, telling her that he is doing fine in London. At hearing about how Pecksniff has managed to increase his control over old Mr. Chuzzlewit and how he dares to pursue Mary Graham, Martin is about to lose his temper and do something rash – but a few words from Mark suffice to calm him down and recover his self-control. All in all, Mark’s words and advice seem to go a long way with Martin now, and his attitude towards others seems to have changed considerably in that he has become more caring. Just consider the following passage with the Martin of yore:

“‘[…]I told you not to keep on the windy side, Mark, but to let us change and change about. The rain has been beating on you ever since it began.’

‘You don’t know how it pleases me, sir,’ said Mark, after a short silence, ‘if I may make so bold as say so, to hear you a–going on in that there uncommon considerate way of yours; which I don’t mean to attend to, never, but which, ever since that time when I was floored in Eden, you have showed.’“

QUESTIONS
What do you think about Mark and Martin’s relationship and how it has changed? Do you think that Mark’s new influence over Martin is realistic – or, if so, long-lasting? What do you think of the advice Mark gives his friend with regard to his course of action concerning Mary and how to treat Pecksniff?

In a way, Martin comes back like the Prodigal Son in the Gospel. What might this show about his inner development? Where are the parallels between Martin and the Prodigal Son?

When Mrs. Lupin speaks of the United States and of how Mark might get himself into all sorts of trouble there, she also says,

“‘[…] How could he ever go to America! Why didn’t he go to some of those countries where the savages eat each other fairly, and give an equal chance to every one!’“

Why does the narrator carry on his criticism of the U.S. through this character, who cannot have any first-hand-experience of the country she is deriding? What is the effect of this procedure?


The second part of the chapter tells us about the meeting between Martin and his grandfather. A first attempt at establishing contact is thwarted by Mr. Pecksniff, when this worthy man tears a letter that Mark wants to have delivered to old Mr. Chuzzlewit to pieces, thus denying Martin any access to his grandfather. He clearly has no right to this course of action.

Undaunted, Mark and Martin go for another try, and this time they storm past the unsuspecting household maid and find old Mr. Chuzzlewit, Mary Graham and Pecksniff in the parlour. Their appearance makes the old man hide his face in his hands, and Martin feels very moved by this sign of ancient love. Pecksniff does not lose a moment but places himself between the old Chuzzlewit and the young professing to shelter the first with his very body and life if necessary. In the following conversation in which Martin pleads his case – asking his grandfather for forgivenness of past offenses and of support in finding him a place where he can earn his own life so as not to live on his grandfather’s means; but still saying that his mind is not changed with regard to Mary, although he is willing to wait until he is in a position to marry her –, Mr. Pecksniff takes on the role of the Greek Chorus, telling the grandfather how he should interpret the words of his grandson, and always shedding the worst light possible on the grandson’s motives and thoughts. Martin, for all the ire Pecksniff’s words arouse in him, stalwartly ignores that creep, which actually vexes and humiliates Pecksniff quite a lot, by speaking to his grandfather as though there were no Pecksniff in the room. Nevertheless, the old man cannot shift his eyes from Pecksniff, the Beacon of Respectability and Good Advice, and eventually, he even begs him to answer Martin’s pleas for him, thus giving Pecksniff the opportunity of casting more scorn on the younger man. There is only one particular in which the old man makes his will known himself – and that is his determination to reimburse Mr. Bevan, who helped Martin to go back to Europe by advancing the necessary money. Mr. Pecksniff, greedy as he is, is not too fond of that intention but the old man seems to cling to it although he says that they can talk the matter over later.

After that Pecksniff leads the grandfather away, and Martin has a few moments together with Mary Graham, who has been a silent – well, of course, she was crying, in order to comply with Dickens’s standards – bystander up to now. Martin learns that his grandfather is now wax in Pecksniff’s hands but that there is one exception: As far as she is concerned, the grandfather, who had talked matters over with her, pointing out Pecksniff’s moderate wealth and his respectability as a potential husband, gives her free choice whether to marry Pecksniff or not, and since her answer is in the negative, he has always respected this.

When Mark and Martin wend their way back to the Blue Dragon, not far from Pecksniff’s house, they see Jonas Chuzzlewit coming up to the place and staring at them with impertinence. Not heeding him, they go back to the inn, where they see Montague’s carriage, and hear of Montague himself having ordered the best food of the place. – Martin, reflecting on his own situation, now comes to the conclusion that it might be him who should now ask for Tom’s advice as to how to earn his bread and make a living. We see that Martin has developed a great appetite for humble pie.

QUESTIONS
Do you think that Pecksniff’s hold on the old man is really as great and unshakeable as he thinks? Why does old Chuzzlewit, before leaving the parlour with Pecksniff, stop him and ask him, twice, whether he has anything to add to what he said to young Martin, a question that Pecksniff answers in the negative? What could old Martin have thought worth adding?

What will Tom and Martin’s next meeting be like – in the light of the new information we have gained in this chapter?

Chapter 44

At the beginning of this chapter, the narrator enlightens us again with some commentary on Mr. Pecksniff’s habits and ways, saying that whenever he has been exposed as a hypocrite or failed to make the impression he wanted, he increases his efforts at soapiness in other quarters. This is why he practises the art of flattery and unctuousness on the next arrival, i.e. Jonas, his son-in-law although both men should know each other. The following part of their conversation is quite creepy, if you ask me:

”‘Jonas. My child — she is well! There is nothing the matter?’

‘What, you’re at it again, are you?’ replied his son–in–law. ‘Even with me? Get away with you, will you?’

‘Tell me she is well then,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Tell me she is well my boy!’

‘She’s well enough,’ retorted Jonas, disengaging himself. ‘There’s nothing the matter with HER.’

‘There is nothing the matter with her!’ cried Mr Pecksniff, sitting down in the nearest chair, and rubbing up his hair.”

Considering that Mr. Pecksniff knew what husband he helped his daughter tie herself to, this play of question and answer is extremely disturbing, and when Mr. Pecksniff goes on saying that parents are often extremely selfish, he is probably right with regard to himself, but in a different sense than he puts on. What follows now is how Jonas strings old Pecksniff along, and we must give him credit by saying that he plays his cards very well, based on his knowledge on Pecksniff’s nature. First of all, Jonas mentions that he has stopped here because he is travelling with a friend of his, a man who ”’is a little too near the top of the tree for’” being taken to Pecksniff’s house and taking tea there. Instead of being insulted, Pecksniff’s curiosity is aroused, and he wants to make the acquaintance of and look up to such a great man as that. When Pecksniff keeps questioning Jonas, the son-in-law lets on that his friend is an incredibly rich person and that his wealth by far exceeds that of Pecksniff and Jonas combined. Pecksniff decides that he must accompany Jonas back to the Blue Dragon in order to make that man’s acquaintance. He does not suspect any foul play on Jonas’s part because his son-in-law’s behaviour is coarse and gruff, and Pecksniff says to himself that if he wanted something from him, he would be more suave and obsequious:

”For it is in the nature of a knave to think the tools with which he works indispensable to knavery; and knowing what he would do himself in such a case, Mr Pecksniff argued, ‘if this young man wanted anything of me for his own ends, he would be polite and deferential.’“

On their way to the inn, Jonas little by little gives out particulars about the Anglo-Bengalee, always just enough to make Mr. Pecksniff’s curiosity wax, and he is actually enjoying this because of his wish to make his father-in-law suffer the same financial loss that he is about to suffer. During his dinner, later, with Mr. Montague and Jonas, Pecksniff is at his most genial and edifying. Other than that Mr. Montague seems a little bit worried when he learns that old Martin Chuzzlewit is staying at Mr. Pecksniff’s, the triumvirate have a jolly dinner in the course of which Mr. Montague often says,

”’[…] There is nothing like building our fortune on the weaknesses of mankind.’”

Mr. Pecksniff always pretends to think that Montague must be joking, but by and by his question “How can you?” seems to take on the tone of an inquiry as to how Mr. Montague succeeds in building his fortune on the weaknesses of mankind, and that worthy gentleman shows him the same green pastures of profit that he showed to Jonas not long ago. In the end, Mr. Pecksniff agrees to invest the bulk of his own fortune – he cannot yet invest Martin Chuzzlewit’s money, but he is sure that he will come into the inheritance sooner or later – into the project of building your fortune on the weaknesses of other people, little thinking that … well …

As soon as he has finished his negotiations with Mr. Montague, he leaves the Dragon, not without stopping by Mrs. Lupin, who is outside, gazing at the stars, and delivering a moral lecture on the transience of earthly riches in comparison to the stars (and similar trite cud). In the meantime, Jonas and Montague are inside, and Montague tells his business partner, or rather, dupe, that from now on he can manage Pecksniff alone and therefore, Jonas can already go back to London. Montague will, as he says, also go to Salisbury in order to look after Bailey. There is some little commotion when Jonas is dismayed at finding that the ink with which he signs some documents is red, like blood, but in the end, Jonas complies with Montague’s wishes and says that he will travel to London early next morning.

QUESTIONS
Unlike Mr. Pecksniff, we all know that Montague is playing a trick on him and that by joining the Anglo-Bengalee, Pecksniff has as good as thrown all his money into the gutter. How does the narrator’s decision of letting the reader in on the secret affect you when you read this lengthy description of three fraudulent people trying to get the better of each other?

We have talked of it before, but Mr. Pecksniff’s sermon about the stars makes me ask it again, all the more so since in Chapter 43 we witness Mrs. Lupin saying that she cannot believe Mr. Pecksniff really being guilty of all the things Mark and Martin reproach him with. So my question is: Can people really be so gullible and naïve as not to see through Pecksniff from the very first moment he opens his mouth?

It's so good to be caught up and participating in the current discussion, rather than one that's weeks old! Life's simple pleasures. :-)

The foreshadowing of dire things to come to which we are treated in chapters 42 and 44 is about as subtle as being conked on the head with a cinder block. Still, Dickens succeeds in whetting our appetites for whatever calamity is ahead. Between the stormy night, Tigg's dream, Jonas's escalating rage, the "bloody" ink, etc. there's no shortage of bad omens in this week's segment.

Which makes Mark and Martin's homecoming at the Blue Dragon all the more pleasant. Martin's character transformation would appear to be genuine, and Mark, at least for now, seems to have gotten the annoying need to be jolly in the face of adversity out of his system. I quite enjoyed their reunion with Mrs. Lupin.

Poor Bailey! I trust he'll be okay, but who will help him in his convalescence? What role will he play going forward?

Dickens is definitely starting to set up his denouement. Jonas and Pecksniff's true colors are showing more and more; Tiggs seems to be rethinking some of his choices, at least where Jonas is concerned; Martin and Mary are reunited, as are Mark and Mrs. Lupin.

Martin, Sr. seems to blindly follow Pecksniff, but draws the line when it comes to Bevin, and Mary marrying Pecksniff. Mary tells us Martin, Sr. changes noticeably when Pecksniff comes into the room. Is it fear, as Mary speculates, or an act? If the latter, to what end?

Tiggs reminds me a bit of Alfred Jingle from Pickwick. It will be interesting to see if they come to similar fates. Or will he end up like Mr. Merdle in Little Dorrit? Either way, his sins will surely catch up with him, don't you think?

Jonas is a combination of Bill Sikes, Orlick, Henry Gowan... who else? Churlish, with a chip on his shoulder, and abusive to women. A prince among men.

Tristram wrote: "Does this chapter remind you of similar scenes from Dickens?..."

Quite reminiscent of Barnaby Rudge, for me.

Mary Lou wrote: "Churlish, with a chip on his shoulder, and abusive to women. A prince among men...."

Commenting on my own post... sheesh! But I couldn't help but think that "Churlish" would make a great name for a Dickens character. :-)

Things are certainly moving right along. I am anxious to see Pecksniff give a great deal of money to Montague. It would be a joyful occasion to see Pecksniff lose a lot of money and also his reputation, maybe especially his reputation. I certainly hope to see Martin Sr.'s eyes opened and Martin, Jr. returned to the fold.

Poor Bailey!
Still, I think chapter 42 especially shows that Tiggs is a crook, but not as bad at heart as Jonas. He does still seem to have eye for those depending on them, wanting Bailey to come into the carriage, etc. To be honest, I read his thing about 'losing [Bailey] right now more like an 'at the moment I might have to choose between his life and mine', with some remorse about not putting his foot down to Jonas and getting Bailey into the carriage included, than 'woo me, I still need Bailey'. However, I might be a bit deceived by Tiggs' evilness. He does strike me as the type who is a nasty bugger when it comes to squeezing money from those who have it though, and going at great and mean lengths for it, but he seems to be contrasted to Jonas, who is evil and dark for the sake of being evil and dark. Tiggs notices there are boundaries to his evilness, while Jonas stomped over whatever boundaries there might have been to his evilness around the time his father died, and went on and on without remorse.

I couldn't help but laugh about Pecksniff falling into the trap with his eyes open. Wonderful! Again, here is Tiggs as a means to give Jonas and Pecksniff their due, not as an evil person on it's own, as is the case with them. I must admit, I am anxious for and with him, I think Jonas can be up to very nasty things indeed. I do believe it is either Jonas kills Tiggs, or someone kills Jonas, and I do hope the latter. 'Cause that would at least mean the whole scamming Pecksniff could go on.

And it might be because I'm following the anti-MLM-reddit, but the Anglo Bengalee really sounds like a piramid scam to me, including the 'as long as people keep joining we're good'. xD

I do start to like Martin Jr. more, and Mary less. If Martin Sr. had wanted it, she might as well have married Pecksniff ... Somehow I do think it's a kind of way of Martin Sr. to see how things go with her; will she attach herself to Pecksniff for the money he seems to have/might get from Martin Sr. or does she stay true to Martin Jr. now he is out of luck?

Jantine wrote: "I think chapter 42 especially shows that Tigg is a crook, but not as bad at heart as Jonas. ..."

I felt the same way, Jantine. Put next to Jonas's violence, Tigg seems like pussycat. I read another book - can't quite remember what it was now* - in which one of the characters went around defrauding people. For him (and, I think, for Tigg) it was all about the money - not hurting people. The character never stopped to think of the impact bankrupting people would actually have. In the other book, he met a woman whose family was devastated by his actions and he was changed. I wonder if Tigg will have such a moment. But, like you, Jantine, I'm sensing a bit of softening in his character.

*I want to say this was a Terry Pratchett novel. Going Postal, perhaps?

I must say that my interpretation of Tigg's character is much sterner than yours: When he talks about letting Bailey into the coach, I don't think this is because he worries about the cold and the rain the young man has to bear outside, but simply because he does not want to be alone in the compartment with Jonas. Just remember what Tigg fancies he sees (and actually does see, I'd say) when waking up from a light drowse, viz. Jonas in a menacing posture right in front of him.

That Tigg is not so much worried about Bailey than about himself becomes clear beyond a doubt to me when later he refuses to have the coachman go on into the next town before them. This going on before would have made things better for Bailey (in that a doctor could have been alerted and things prepared for an operation or whatever would be needed), but it would mean for Tigg to be alone with Jonas. And that's why Tigg won't have it, even though the delay might cause Bailey's death.

Tigg, to me, is on the same level of depravity as Jonas - both men are slinking cowards, but Jonas feels himself cornered, and like a rat, when you have cornered it, he will resort to any means. His is the courage of despair, which is short-lived and seldom resorts to noble means. I wonder, though, if we could ever find signs of courage in Tigg.

The Tigg - Jonas conversation is really interesting. There is much merit on both sides of the issue as to who is worse.

I certainly have a clear dislike for Jonas. He is both verbally and physically abusive to his wife. He is openly consumed with his love of money over any love of an individual other than himself. He did auction himself to Pecksniff to get more money by marrying Merry.

Tigg is a crafty, dishonourable man who would steal pennies from a dead man’s eyes. He works in the shadows and presents a false front. Indeed, Dickens makes it quite clear that he has altered his appearance in order to pursue his ill-gotten gains.

So, who is worse? Is it Jonas who makes little attempt to hid his odious character or Tigg’s who may not be unctuous but is, nonetheless, rather ugly in nature?

Tristram wrote: "Chapter 43

This is the longest chapter from this week’s instalment but it can be divided into two bits, one of which can be summarized very quickly. In the first part of Chapter 43, the setting i..."

Tristram

Yes indeed, Martin is learning the taste of humble pie. I found it interesting in this chapter that Dickens makes a point of letting the reader know that Tom sent the £5 back to Mrs Lupin because he had found employment in London. Meanwhile we have Martin and Mark at Mrs Lupin’s door and the reader is aware that Martin has sold the ring Mary gave him before he went away. Here, we have Tom who would not accept the charity of another person contrasted to Martin who sold a ring given to him by his fiancée.

Yes, we could argue that the circumstances were far more dire in America than in London but I would maintain that there is also a rather subtle comment from Dickens about the characters of Tom and Martin. What the final purpose of this will be remains to be seen.

Peter wrote: "...Tom who would not accept the charity of another person contrasted to Martin who sold a ring given to him by his fiancée. ..."

Good observation, Peter. Assuming Martin, Jr. stays on this path of redemption, though, one might argue, in keeping with the prodigal son comparison that Tristram suggested, that Martin's character is more worthy of celebration because it doesn't come naturally to him. He's had to fight his natural inclinations in order to be as thoughtful as Tom is. Not fair, necessarily (I always had trouble with that particular parable in the Bible), but one can make an argument for it.

Re: Tigg v. Jonah, I would argue (as would Tigg, but that's not much of an endorsement) that physical violence is worse than financial ruin, but if one is destitute and doesn't have the helpful friends that seem to abound in this story, starvation and homelessness may have farther reaching effects than even physical and verbal abuse. I don't know. I guess the bottom line is that both Jonah and Tigg are pretty awful and each do plenty of damage in their own way.

Peter wrote: "The Tigg - Jonas conversation is really interesting. There is much merit on both sides of the issue as to who is worse.

I certainly have a clear dislike for Jonas. He is both verbally and physical..."

Hmmm, neither of them can hold a candle to Ebenezer Scrooge before his mind was twisted by those ghosts.

Peter wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Chapter 43

This is the longest chapter from this week’s instalment but it can be divided into two bits, one of which can be summarized very quickly. In the first part of Chapter ..."

An interesting thought, Peter, which did not occur to me. But that's the advantage of many people reading the same chapters every week. I feel I get a more nuanced view every time I read a Dickens novel with you all.

Mary Lou wrote: "Re: Tigg v. Jonah, I would argue (as would Tigg, but that's not much of an endorsement) that physical violence is worse than financial ruin, but if one is destitute and doesn't have the helpful friends that seem to abound in this story, starvation and homelessness may have farther reaching effects than even physical and verbal abuse. I don't know."

Maybe, it's also a matter of perspective: We have known Merry for quite a while now and also witnessed how her marriage to Jonas has turned her into a more thoughtful and mature person - sadder and wiser, as Coleridge might say -, and so we might feel inclined to despise Jonas more than Tigg. Had the narrator given us an example of a family thrown into misery and starvation by Tigg's machinations, we might also regard Tigg in an even less favourable light.

I'm putting this here in this thread because I know it's past the chapters in question. I thought a few of you might find it interesting.

I'm currently reading David McCullough's non-fiction book The Pioneers about the settling of the Northwest territory here in the US, and this bit was so familiar I had to share it with all of you. I know the passage is long, but those of you who are willing to read it may find it as familiar and interesting as I did. I tried to edit it to keep it pithy:

For some unknown reason, Duer put in place as the company's sales agent a gentlemanly lawyer, Joel Barlow [who] went off to France to market the Scioto land and there took on a business partner named William Playfair. As it turned out, Playfair did not play fair.  In France, Barlow and Playfair prepared a "prospectus" on the rivers Ohio and Scioto and including Cutler's earlier pamphlet along with numerous additions and embellishments.  Playfair's "good imagination" had been put to work.  Not surprisingly, no mention was made of freezing winters or starvation or smallpox or the threat posed by the native tribes.  Instead, it was a climate altogether "wholesome and delightful, frost even in winter almost entirely unknown."  There was "venison in plenty, the pursuit of which is uninterrupted  by wolves, foxes, lions, or tigers."  Added to that, there were "no taxes to pay, no military services to be performed." 

Sales of Scioto land went fast, and in February 1790, some 600 French emigrants - men, women, and a few children - believing they owned land in the Ohio paradise, sailed for America... only to discover they had been defrauded.  William Playfair had made off with the money and disappeared.... [George] Washington intervened to tell Duer something must be done at once.
After an arduous journey overland and downstream on the Ohio... the French pilgrims arrived [in the Ohio territory].  Putnam brought in a crew to make a clearing and build eighty rough log cabins [which] had dirt floors only.  The emigrants were hardly prepared.  They were city people from Paris and Lyon. Hardly any had ever held an ax or a gun before, or skinned an animal .... The Scioto Company left the French settlers largely to fend for themselves. Duer would wind up in debtors' prison until his death in 1797.

Not that I doubted it, but obviously Martin's story was not far-fetched. Dickens surely heard stories about swindles like this and made good use of them. McCullough goes on to tell his readers that the French settlers (those who stayed... and lived) were "grateful for the new life, given what they had left behind [the Revolution], and confident, even optimistic about the future. As one wrote, "To some the surrounding woods might appear frightful deserts; to me they are the paradise of nature; no hosts of greedy priests; no seas of blood to wade through; all is quiet." Dickens left that bit out. :-)

Tristram wrote: "Mary Lou wrote: "Re: Tigg v. Jonah, I would argue (as would Tigg, but that's not much of an endorsement) that physical violence is worse than financial ruin, but if one is destitute and doesn't hav..."

Yes. It is interesting that Tigg escapes Dickens’s direct condemnation through an exploration of how Tigg has directly harmed an investor.

Jonas is always front and centre in our reading. An author really can control our thoughts due to what is included or excluded in the narrative.

Mary Lou wrote: "I'm putting this here in this thread because I know it's past the chapters in question. I thought a few of you might find it interesting.

I'm currently reading David McCullough's non-fiction book..."

Mary Lou

Thanks for this. You are right. There are very clear similarities. Human nature does not seem to change does it?

Martin and Mark were certainly much better off in comparison to the French. When I read information like this I always wonder if there could be a connection.

I would have enjoyed a chapter or two where the arch hypocrite Pecksniff faced the master con man Tiggs. What an opportunity for Dickens to let loose with some wonderful ironic dialogue, nasty characterization and sleazy comments.

Mary Lou wrote: "I'm putting this here in this thread because I know it's past the chapters in question. I thought a few of you might find it interesting.

I'm currently reading David McCullough's non-fiction book..."

Thanks for sharing this example here, Mary Lou. I was reading Verner's Pride a few weeks ago, a novel by Ellen Woods, who - according to Wikipedia - was extremely well-known in Australia and the U.S. in her time, and in that novel she has a Mormon missionary from Salt Lake City proselytize among the villagers of a rural place. The missionary, Brother Jarrum, evokes pictures of plenty, of a carefree life, where everyone is a well off as the masters in England, and he also finds people to believe him. One of the zealots later comes back into the village and tells them that tales of material wealth and an easy life were grossly exaggerated.

Maybe, this kind of thing was a popular motif in English literature at the time?

Chapter 42

I'm not sure I understood the point of this chapter, except maybe to show the differences between Montague and Jonas, and get Bailey hurt for some reason. I wonder what kind of showdown Tom Pinch and Jonas are going to have?
c
Gunfight at the O.K. Corral! Or maybe a Cage Fight.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Chapter 42

I'm not sure I understood the point of this chapter, except maybe to show the differences between Montague and Jonas, and get Bailey hurt for some reason. I wonder what kind of showdown..."

Tom is too nice to do any direct harm to Jonas -- he might stand up to him, but Jonas would always get the better of him. I envision a Disney type ending with Tom and Jonas arguing on the edge of a cliff or balcony and Jonas losing his footing. Whatever happens, it won't be at Tom's (or any of the "good guys'") hands.

Tom knocked Jonas flat last time they met. Just need the right strings pulled.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Tom knocked Jonas flat last time they met. Just need the right strings pulled."

I stand corrected. I knew there had been an altercation, but had forgotten that rather significant part.

Yes. It is interesting to see how the novel is unfolding for Tom and Jonas. Knowing Dickens, we can predict that being the good guy, Tom will prevail, but how is yet to be determined. As for Jonas, Dickens must be brewing something suitable for him too.

I am interested in Mary Lou’s comment that Jonas will not meet his fate at the hands of one of the good guys. How will Dickens stage manage our ending?

Peter wrote: "Yes. It is interesting to see how the novel is unfolding for Tom and Jonas. Knowing Dickens, we can predict that being the good guy, Tom will prevail, but how is yet to be determined. As for Jonas,..."

Here's a list of what happened to the other Dickens antagonists - don't peek if you haven't read all the novels yet! (view spoiler)[

Bradley Headstone, Quilp, Compeyson - drowned
Bill Sikes - accidental hanging
Fagin - hanged
Ralph Nickleby - suicide by hanging
Rigaud - house collapsed on him
Carker - hit by train (that was a fun one!)
Madame Defarge - shot by her own pistol in a struggle
Chester - killed in duel
Tulkinghorn - murdered by another antagonist
Orlick, Heep, Hortense - jailed
Scrooge, Jingle, Dombey - reformed (hide spoiler)]

I honestly don't remember what happens to Jonah, and didn't look it up. The nice thing about having a terrible memory is that I can read the same book several times and still be surprised. :-) (view spoiler)[But this list shows that the good guys rarely have to sully themselves in order for the bad guys to get their just desserts. (hide spoiler)]

Mary Lou wrote: "Peter wrote: "Yes. It is interesting to see how the novel is unfolding for Tom and Jonas. Knowing Dickens, we can predict that being the good guy, Tom will prevail, but how is yet to be determined...."

Here are some more antagonists, and their comeuppances:

(view spoiler)[Steerforth - another one drowned
Sir Mulberry Hawk - got away unscathed, unless I' much mistaken
Arthur Gride - murdered in his bed
Sim Tappertit - loss of legs
Miggs - ended up a spinster turnkey, or a turnkey spinster?
Riderhood - cf. Headstone
Mr Casby - loss of hair, due to scissors
Mr Merdle - suicide, I think pistol

Seems to me that a Dickens villain had better stay clear off the water, especially rivers and the sea (hide spoiler)]

Chapter 43

Mrs. Lupin, out of respect for the lightning, removes the candlestick from the Chimney shelf. Who among us would know enough to do this?

A large barrel between his legs as he walks. Ouch!

The narrator calls Pecksniff the chorus. Perfect!

Still confused as to what old Chuzzlewit's game is.

Tristram wrote: "Apparently, Victorians thought that cutlery and lit candles attracted lightning. It would be interesting to learn more about Victorian notions of danger during a thunderstorm, wouldn’t it?"

I assume the abode is no grounded. I also assumed the candlestick (not the candle) was made of an attracting material. With something as important as lightning, you would think accurate word of mouth would spread. Maybe this is not the case, though, and it is more superstition than anything.

As I said, I found the behaviour shown by Mrs. Lupin during the thunderstorm very interesting. In a way, it reminded me of my grandmother, who also took a lot of precautions when thunder and lighting were haunting the skies: She switched off all the lights and told us not to go near the window, and she would just sit and wait till it was over. As a child, I just picked up the fear, but now I know there was also an attitude of humility in it that most of us, including me, have lost: I would not interrupt my daily business for a thunderstorm, but my grandmother did, and while she did it was probably thinking about her position as a single human soul in this world. Who knows?

Mr. Jonas exhibits presence of mind

Chapter 42

Phiz

Passage Illustrated: Jonas Misses a Sterling Opportunity

The travellers had opened the carriage door, and had either jumped or fallen out. Jonas was the first to stagger to his feet. He felt sick and weak, and very giddy, and reeling to a five-barred gate, stood holding by it; looking drowsily about as the whole landscape swam before his eyes. But, by degrees, he grew more conscious, and presently observed that Montague was lying senseless in the road, within a few feet of the horses.
In an instant, as if his own faint body were suddenly animated by a demon, he ran to the horses’ heads; and pulling at their bridles with all his force, set them struggling and plunging with such mad violence as brought their hoofs at every effort nearer to the skull of the prostrate man; and must have led in half a minute to his brains being dashed out on the highway.
As he did this, he fought and contended with them like a man possessed, making them wilder by his cries.
"Whoop!" cried Jonas. "Whoop! again! another! A little more, a little more! Up, ye devils! Hillo!"
As he heard the driver, who had risen and was hurrying up, crying to him to desist, his violence increased.
"Hiilo! Hillo!" cried Jonas.
"For God's sake!" cried the driver. "The gentleman — in the road — he'll be killed!"
The same shouts and the same struggles were his only answer. But the man darting in at the peril of his own life, saved Montague's, by dragging him through the mire and water out of the reach of present harm. That done, he ran to Jonas; and with the aid of his knife they very shortly disengaged the horses from the broken chariot, and got them, cut and bleeding, on their legs again. The postillion and Jonas had now leisure to look at each other, which they had not had yet.

Commentary:

Although the illustrations correspond, sometimes in amazing detail, with the text, in notable several instances Phiz and Dickens’s text part company. Sylvère Monod, who notes several trifling instances, then focuses on the differences between Dickens's narrating the coach accident and Phiz's depiction of Jonas's presence of mind in dealing with the terrified horses immediately after the accident, when he attempts to use the coaching accident to cover the murder Tigg Montague (the latest avatar of Montague Tigg), the swindling life-assurance magnate and blackmailer:

Jonas is said, in the text, to have run to the horses' heads, and pulled at their bridles, in order to brings their hoofs nearer to the skull of Montague, who is lying senseless on the road. On the plate, Browne shows one horse lying on its back, entangled in the ruined chariot, while Jonas holds the bridle of the other horse, already free from the carriage, standing on its hind legs and backing towards Montague. Admittedly, there is a certain lack of coherence in the story itself, which seems to imply that Jonas is pushing both horses, still harnessed to the overthrown vehicle and not yet having found their legs. For, a little later, the driver will disengage the horses from the broken chariot and get them, 'cut and bleeding, on their legs again', and the driver will admonish Jonas. . . . The text, in fact, tells two stories, but the plate tells a third, independent of both.


Monod might have added that the viewer finds Phiz's version of the accident more visually engaging as Jonas wrestles to control the fractious carriage horse apparently without fear for his own safety as the driver comes running to take charge (upper left). One passenger's legs are sticking up, as if the accident has turned him upside down, and Montague's left leg is caught in the hedge at the side of the road as he lies on his back, within inches of the horse's hooves. However, until readers familiarize themselves with the text, the Jonas's intentions in the picture are ambiguous: is he trying to save the unconscious financier, or is he deliberately pushing the rearing steed towards the head? Montague's head is vulnerable, for it lacks even the protection of a hat, which Phiz has placed prominently in the middle of road. This plate, one of the most vigorous and dynamic in the entire series, keeps the reader in suspense as to both the outcome of the carriage accident and whether Jonas will lose his best chance of eliminating his adversary. As Michael Steig in Dickens and Phiz remarks of the scenes leading up to Tigg's murder,

Tigg appears in a more sinister form in Mr. Nadgett breathes, as usual, an atmosphere of mystery (ch. 38), in which Jonas is the central figure. As Nadgett and Tigg reveal to Jonas their knowledge of his (apparent) poisoning of his father, the glove on the floor appears to be reaching for his throat. The consequence of this revelation, Jonas' first attempt to murder Tigg, is dealt with by Browne in a style different from that of the other etchings in this novel: in Mr. Jonas exhibits his presence of mind (ch. 42) he has created a circular composition with Jonas at the center of a whirling vortex, the positions of Tigg and Jonas almost exactly reversed from those in the plate just discussed. The composition here is dynamic, yet compact and formal. although Browne may have been influenced by George Cruikshank's book illustrations, Cruikshank's oval or circular designs usually freeze the action rather than achieving the tension Browne creates. In addition, Browne once again uses visual parallels, making Tigg's gesture echo Anthony's, also on the edge of death, in The dissolution of Partnership. This parallel is ironic because Jonas' mistaken belief that he has killed his father leads him here to attempt, and later to accomplish, the murder of Tigg.

Phiz's handles the design for this illustration in a freer manner than the others in the series because he does not rely on the built environment for its context. The rutted road and decayed fencing subtly contribute to the suspense, especially since the two crossbars in the right foreground resemble grave-markers. In masterful use of perspective Phiz carries the viewer's eye to the escarpment in the distance, suggesting the remoteness of the locale — and therefore one ideally suited to Jonas's despatching Tigg, but for the inconvenient presence of the driver (upper left), who appears not to have been hurt in the accident and therefore would bear witness at an inquest if Jonas were to use the horse to crack open Tigg's skull, so full of plots and strategems.

Mr. Pecksniff announces himself the shield of virtue.

Chapter 43

Phiz

Text illustrated:

He hurriedly advanced to seize the old man's hand in his, when Mr. Pecksniff interposed himself between them.
"No, young man!" said Mr. Pecksniff, striking himself upon the breast, and stretching out his other arm towards his guest as if it were a wing to shelter him. "No, sir. None of that. Strike here, sir, here! Launch your arrows at me, sir, if you'll have the goodness; not at Him!"
"Grandfather!" cried Martin. "Hear me! I implore you, let me speak!"
"Would you, sir? Would you?’ said Mr Pecksniff, dodging about, so as to keep himself always between them. "Is it not enough, sir, that you come into my house like a thief in the night, or I should rather say, for we can never be too particular on the subject of Truth, like a thief in the day-time; bringing your dissolute companions with you, to plant themselves with their backs against the insides of parlour doors, and prevent the entrance or issuing forth of any of my household" — Mark had taken up this position, and held it quite unmoved — "but would you also strike at venerable Virtue? Would you? Know that it is not defenceless. I will be its shield, young man. Assail me. Come on, sir. Fire away!"

Commentary: "Shield of Virtue" Indeed!

If Pecksniff is to succeed in his plan to supplant young Martin as the patriarch's heir, he must ensure that the young protagonist does not effect a reconcilliation with the curmudgeonly grandfather. Consequently, when he discovers young Martin talking to Martin Chuzzlewit, Senior, the devious hypocrite acts with alacrity and determination to make himself a "shield of virtue" — in other words, as a blocking figure in a stage comedy. Only by safeguarding the exclusivity of his relationship with the patriarch whom he has taken under his own roof can Pecksniff hope to bring his plans, including marrying Mary Graham, to fruition. Phiz uses the juxtaposition of the figures to make plain their relationship as Pecksniff comes between the gradndfather and grandson as Mark Tapley observes the confrontation. Pecksniff may even be provoking a physical altercation that will demonstrate the young man's rash temper and unsuitability as Old Martin's heir. If we may judge by Old Martin's demeanour, Pecksniff is succeeding. However, the greenery intruding at the window implies that a renewed intimacy between the grandchild and grandparent will develop, and that Pecksniff cannot keep Mary and Old Martin to himself. His flamboyant gesture underscores the false melodramatic note that Dickens strikes in the accompanying text. Phiz has once again placed the architectural drawings on the wall to establish to setting as Pecksniff's parlour.

commentary: the greenery intruding at the window implies that a renewed intimacy between the grandchild and grandparent will develop..."

Sometimes I think they just make this stuff up.

Me too.

As we move through this novel it is evident how Browne’s eye for the stated detail of the written narrative combines with his own creative touches to make a very interesting illustration.

"Awoke to find Jonas standing at his bedside watching him. And that very door wide open." 

Chapter 42

Forty-seventh illustration by Fred Barnard for Dickens's Martin Chuzzlewit Chapter 42.

[Mr. Montague, after a particularly disturbing dream, is shocked when he awakes to find Jonas Chuzzlewit in his bedroom, although he had meticulously checked that every possible entry was secure before he went to bed.]

On the road to Salisbury

Chapter 42

Harry Furniss

Text illustrated:

"When I said to-night, that I wished I had never started on this journey," cried his master, "I knew it was an ill-fated one. Look at this boy!"
"Is that all?" growled Jonas. "If you call that a sign of it —"
"Why, what should I call a sign of it?" asked Montague, hurriedly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," said Jonas, stooping down over the body, "that I never heard you were his father, or had any particular reason to care much about him. Halloa. Hold up there!"
But the boy was past holding up, or being held up, or giving any other sign of life than a faint and fitful beating of the heart. After some discussion the driver mounted the horse which had been least injured, and took the lad in his arms as well as he could; while Montague and Jonas, leading the other horse, and carrying a trunk between them, walked by his side towards Salisbury. 

Commentary

The sense of dread anticipation intensifies as Jonas attempts to murder his business partner, making the death of "Mr. Montague" look like a traffic accident. As Dickens moves towards the resolution of the Anglo-Bengalee swindle, Dickens maintains a high degree of suspense after Tigg's preventing Jonas and Mercy Chuzzlewit from catching the Antwerp steamer in London, and Jonas's growing more and more determined to free himself from his partner's grip.

Once he has made his last big score, defrauding Seth Pecksniff, Montague Tigg intends to "decamp across the water", enjoying his ill-gotten gains on the Continent, living the high life on the funds of numerous Anglo-Bengalee investors, while his partner, Jonas, suffers the legal consequences. He resolves to be wary of his partner, however, as he knows that "If he could kill me with a wish . . . I should not live long". Their plan is to travel by chaise to Salisbury, then cross to Pecksniff's village the next morning. However, a lightning storm frightens the horses and leaves the carriage in a ditch, with both Jonas and Tigg temporarily unconscious. Awakening first, Jonas grabs the bridles of both steeds, hoping that in their anxiety they will trample his companion, lying senseless in the road.

However, the driver's coming to consciousness foils Jonas's plan. However, although the three adults have survived with minor cuts and bruises, it appears that the accident has taken the life of Bailey, Montague's servant; mounting the horse that is uninjured, the driver takes the body of the boy in his arms, leaving Montague and Jonas to carry their heavy trunk as best as they can to Salisbury four miles away, leading the second horse. Jonas suggests that the driver ride off with Bailey to get him medical assistance, but Tigg is determined not to be left alone with his desperate partner. All three make their way slowly to their inn at Salisbury, where the tense mood of watchful suspicion intensifies.

The Furniss illustration is extremely low-key, as if, in contradiction to the violent action of Phiz's Mr. Jonas Exhibits his Presence of Mind (see below) for the same chapter in the original serial, Furniss means to let the text create the suspense and the illustration merely to set the scene, with a muddy, rain-soaked road and a gate to the right to suggest the London-to-Salisbury turnpike road. Far more dramatic is the April 1844 illustration of "Montague was lying senseless on the road when Jonas ran to the horses' heads; and, pulling at their bridles, set them struggling and plunging with such violence as brought their hoofs at every effort nearer to the skull of the prostrate man, and must have led in half a minute to his brains being dashed out on the highway" (Chapter 42, p. 670). Moreover, Furniss has chosen a much less engaging scene when, the three adults having recovered from the accident, Bailey's life hangs in the balance as Tigg (left) and Jonas (right), holding the trunk between them, trudge towards Salisbury, accompanied by the postillion on horseback (upper left). The artist creates considerable depth of field through the relative sizes of the horses along a lower-right-to-upper-left diagonal, with Jonas's head in the very centre of the composition.

The illustrator's challenge is to convey the inner tension between the two characters beneath the scene's tranquil surface. In the Household Edition, thirty-eight years prior to The Charles Dickens Library Edition, Fred Barnard aroused the reader's expectation that Jonas will be looking for an opportunity to murder his blackmailing partner in "Now, could you cut a man's throat with such a thing as this?" demanded Jonas (see below), thereby avoiding the possibility of competing with Phiz by attempting to deal with the carriage accident, for he knew that his old friend was a brilliant hand at drawing vigorous, prancing horses. Significantly, although Furniss reveals Jonas's expression in profile, he keeps from us the complicated emotions that the near-death experienced has aroused in Tigg.

Pecksniff leaving the Dragon

Chapter 44

Harry Furniss

Text illustrated:

"Look up there, with me!' repeated Mr Pecksniff, stretching out his hand; "With me, a humble individual who is also an insect like yourselves. Can silver, gold, or precious stones, sparkle like those constellations! I think not. Then do not thirst for silver, gold, or precious stones; but look up there, with me!"
With those words, the good man patted Mrs Lupin's hand between his own, as if he would have added "think of this, my good woman!" and walked away in a sort of ecstasy or rapture, with his hat under his arm.
Jonas sat in the attitude in which Mr. Pecksniff had left him, gazing moodily at his friend; who, surrounded by a heap of documents, was writing something on an oblong slip of paper.
"You mean to wait at Salisbury over the day after to-morrow, do you, then?" said Jonas.

Commentary

The narrative continues with the trip undertaken to southwestern England by Jonas Chuzzlewit and Montague Tigg to defraud Seth Pecksniff, whom they seduce to the enterprise with prospect of immense returns from his investment (nearly the whole of his capital) in the Anglo-Bengalee. Furniss's illustration conveys well the architect's sense of satisfaction in having secured a "proprietorship in this sung concern".

While Jonas and Tigg congratulate themselves on the fleecing of so fatuous a sheep, Pecksniff strolls out into the moonlight after leaving The Blue Dragon, completely self-satisfied that he will make a fortune by investing with the Anglo-Bengalee. Although Fred Barnard in the Household Edition illustration "Oh fie, fie!" cried Mr. Pecksniff. "You are very pleasant. That I am sure you don't! That I am sure you don't! How can you, you know?" (see below), attempted to realize the scene in which the swindlers hook their prey over dinner at The Blue Dragon, Phiz in the April 1844 serial instalment had focussed in Mr. Pecksniff Announces Himself as the Shield of Virtue (see below) on the plot strand involving the return of Mark (left) and Martin (centre) from America. Desperate to maintain his control over Old Martin, Pecksniff tries to prevent the reconcilliation of the grandfather and grandson, blocking the petitioner's access to the old man as Mary Graham hovers beside the pathetic Martin, Senior: "'No, young man!' said Pecksniff, striking hiumself upon the breast, and stretching out his other arm towards his guest as if it were a wing to shelter him. He interposed between them as Martin advanced to seize his grandfather's hand. 'No, Sir. None of that. Strike here, Sir, here! Launch your arrows at Me, Sir, if you'll have the goodness; not at Him!'".

Pecksniff's selfish and callous behaviour here contributes to the reader's conviction that he deserves to be defrauded by Montague Tigg and Jonas Chuzzlewit in the following chapter. Although Pecksniff is always posing, putting on a pious front for others, in this Furniss illustration of the architect by himself after he has left the dinner at the Dragon he does not have to hide his smug self-satisfaction with his having joined a scheme to increase his "horde."

In the Barnard illustration, Pecksniff is the public persona, self-depracatory, modest, and hiding his genuine delight at participating in questionable investment practices, but still — at least, for the constant poser — natural. In the Furniss illustration, everything about him is hyperbolic, over-the-top, caricature rather than character. He is in the limelight, on stage, soliloquizing "in a sort of ecstasy or rapture" on the insignificance of other human beings against the immensity of the stars, but Furniss captures his self-aggrandizing pomposity as he regards the moon as fixed in its sphere for him especially. There is no equivalent textual passage that describes the old humbug after he leaves the Blue Dragon and Mrs. Lupin; he really seems to be seduced by his own cant in this illustration. Clayton J. Clarke's portrait of Pecksniff on the Player's Cigarette card, by comparison, seems natural and unaffected. As J. A. Hammerton remarks in the prefatory "Story of This Book," much of the action is built around the story's strongest character, a hypocrite not so much drawn from life as inspired by English puritanical insincerity, "the embodiment of British cant and hypocrisy", who dominates the action of Martin Chuzzlewit as Wilkins Micawber anchors the comic action of David Copperfield: "Pecksniff and Micawber, utterly dissimilar, are two of the greatest comic characters in all literature. They are conceived in the grand style, and of the two, of course, Pecksniff the subtler study. He is a great figure of English comedy, as Tartuffe is of French, though less seldom compared with Molière's masterpiece than Meredith's Sir Willoughby is so compared, but Willoughby is not so eminently an English type, and infinitely less real than Pecksniff".

In the original serial's forty steel-engraving, we find Seth Pecksniff present in some fifteen (counting his bust as a theatrical "appearance"); in Furniss's twenty-eight illustrations he appears ten times, including in the lower-right corner of the final plate with Tom at the organ — and against is one of the twin focal points in the climactic Fall of Pecksniff as he is in Phiz's Warm Reception of Mr. Pecksniff by His Venerable Friend (Chapter 52, July 1844). Young Martin appears as frequently in each narrative-pictorial sequence, but is consistently far less interesting. Moreover, in the Furniss sequence Pecksniff is one of just a handful of characters (including Mark Tapley, Tom Pinch, Sairey Gamp, and Old Chuffey) who merit solo appearances. The eponymous character​appears on ten occasions in the twenty-eight illustrations, there being no single character study, a technique that Furniss reserves for five other characters. Mark Tapley appears on seven separate occasions, including the climactic Fall of Pecksniff (Chapter 52).

Familiar Faces

Chapter 43

Forty-eighth illustration by Fred Barnard for the Household Edition of Dickens's Martin Chuzzlewit

[Sam the hostler (left), the light of an open door behind him, comes out of the inn as the rain-soaked Mark and Martin (right foreground) watch the nocturnal scene. Mark is about to be reunited with Mrs. Lupin, a comely widow who is the proprietress of the Blue Dragon in Wiltshire.]

Text illustrated:

The company soon came tumbling out: insisting to each other that the Dragon clock was half an hour too fast, and that the thunder must have affected it. Impatient, wet, and weary though they were, Martin and Mark were overjoyed to see these old faces, and watched them with delighted interest as they departed from the house, and passed close by them.
"There's the old tailor, Mark!" whispered Martin.
"There he goes, sir! A little bandier than he was, I think, sir, ain't he? His figure's so far altered, as it seems to me, that you might wheel a rather larger barrow between his legs as he walks, than you could have done conveniently when we know'd him. There's Sam a-coming out, sir."
"Ah, to be sure!" cried Martin: "Sam, the hostler. I wonder whether that horse of Pecksniff's is alive still?"
"Not a doubt on it, sir," returned Mark. "That's a description of animal, sir, as will go on in a bony way peculiar to himself for a long time, and get into the newspapers at last under the title of 'Sing'lar Tenacity of Life in a Quadruped.' As if he had ever been alive in all his life, worth mentioning! There's the clerk, sir, — wery drunk, as usual." Chapter 43, "Has an Influence on the fortunes of several people. Mr. Pecksniff is exhibited in the plenitude of power, and wields the same with fortitude and magnanimity"

Kim wrote: "

Pecksniff leaving the Dragon

Chapter 44

Harry Furniss

Text illustrated:

"Look up there, with me!' repeated Mr Pecksniff, stretching out his hand; "With me, a humble individual who is also an..."

What a great illustration by Furniss. Pecksniff is so puffed up, pompous and full of himself in the illustration and yet the shadow he casts is so thin and faded. It is a perfect way to illustrate the person and his inner self.

"Oh fie, fie!" cried Mr. Pecksniff. "You are very pleasant. That I am sure you don't! That I am sure you don't! How can you, you know?" 

Forty-ninth illustration by Fred Barnard for the Household Edition of Dickens's Martin Chuzzlewit.

[Convinced that the Anglo-Bengalee is a money-making proposition, Pecksniff over dinner with Montague and Jonas at the Blue Dragon agrees to invest substantially.]

Text illustrated:

"No, no" said that gentleman, clapping his son-in-law playfully upon the shoulder. "You must not believe all that my young relative says, Mr. Montague. You may believe him in official business, and trust him in official business, but you must not attach importance to his flights of fancy."
"Upon my life, Mr. Pecksniff," cried Montague, "I attach the greatest importance to that last observation of his. I trust and hope it's true. Money cannot be turned and turned again quickly enough in the ordinary course, Mr. Pecksniff. There is nothing like building our fortune on the weaknesses of mankind."
"Oh fie! oh fie, for shame!" cried Mr. Pecksniff. But they all laughed again — especially Mr. Pecksniff.
"I give you my honour that we do it," said Montague.
"Oh fie, fie!" cried Mr. Pecksniff. "You are very pleasant. That I am sure you don't! That I am sure you don't! How can you, you know?"
Again they all laughed in concert; and again Mr. Pecksniff laughed especially. — Chapter 44

Mary Lou wrote: "commentary: the greenery intruding at the window implies that a renewed intimacy between the grandchild and grandparent will develop..."

Sometimes I think they just make this stuff up."

And that's part of the fun of it all, isn't it? The joys of interpretation :-)

Peter wrote: "Kim wrote: "

Pecksniff leaving the Dragon

Chapter 44

Harry Furniss

Text illustrated:

"Look up there, with me!' repeated Mr Pecksniff, stretching out his hand; "With me, a humble individual wh..."

Yes, indeed. I usually feel no real warmth toward Furniss's illustrations because I think that his figures often look like willowy elves and that there is more of a lack of stillness in the pictures than the story demands, but this time, with his presentation of Pecksniff, he hits the nail on the head. I would interpret the extremely thin legs of Mr. Pecksniff's shadow as a hint that his future fortune is resting on very thin and brittle pillars. It is, all in all, the perfect embodiment of hubris in my eyes.

I was thinking of that Furniss illustration as a literal depiction of the idiom "casting a long shadow" meaning to have a long-lasting, negative effect of something. Pecksniff surely cast a long shadow on the people around him.

Kim wrote: "On the road to Salisbury
Chapter 42 Harry Furniss ..."

As this is mostly just a picture of a horse's ass, I'd speculate that Furniss is obviously making a derogatory statement about Tigg's judgment in getting himself mixed up with Jonas.

Mary Lou wrote: "Kim wrote: "On the road to Salisbury
Chapter 42 Harry Furniss ..."

As this is mostly just a picture of a horse's ass, I'd speculate that Furniss is obviously making a derogatory statement about T..."

Mary Lou

Nice interpretation. Furniss is my second favourite illustrator after Browne. I totally missed the irony of the picture.

Kim wrote: "

Familiar Faces

Chapter 43

Forty-eighth illustration by Fred Barnard for the Household Edition of Dickens's Martin Chuzzlewit

[Sam the hostler (left), the light of an open door behind him, come..."

Although I just mentioned above to Mary Lou that Browne’s and Furniss are my favourite illustrators of Dickens I do really like this one by Barnard. To me it is full of atmosphere and anticipation. The darkness of the image is striking.