Discussion about this post

User's avatar
Bren's avatar

At this point, I haven't a clue what is going to happen next. Grandfather and Little Nell going who-knows-where? while Quilp, and Fred Trent and Dick Swiveller are plotting who-knows-what? There are so many possibilities - most of them disturbing. Are we going to hear more of Abel Garland and his family? (I hope so!) And I reckon that gold piece will have its part to play.

We're definitely at 'Dickensian' meaning poverty-stricken at this point - and the description of the poorer areas that Grandfather and Nell pass through really hits the mark. It's definitely a David Lean / monochrome approach. Sadly, much of it feels relevant today.

I was reminded of Sam Weller as well - although the relationship between Nell and Kit also brought to mind Oliver and Nancy, where somebody from the wrong side of the tracks is looking after someone vulnerable. I think I'm hoping that in the same way that Mr Micawber sorted out Uriah Heep, Kit may sort out Quilp.

And Quilp! There's an illustration of him in the edition I have where he is sitting on the back of the chair - and he definitely looks like he's modelling for a gargoyle.

I rather liked Brass as a character (but not as an individual). He's a bit shambolic and you can't imagine him on the right side of the law, but he adds some levity to the mix. Quilp and Brass remind me of a pantomime double act, although Quilp is a bit more sinister.

You can't help worrying about Grandfather's and Little Nell's safety - I'm not sure if it would have been more dangerous then than now. They seem to have struck lucky so far, but I can see their luck running out at some point.

Expand full comment
Sandra's avatar

Thanks Henry. The section you read from was probably my favorite part of this month's reading. The description of the new day in particular stood out to me because it's the sort of description I don't normally associate with Dickens:

The town was glad with morning light; places that had shown ugly and distrustful all night long, now wore a smile; and sparkling sun-beams dancing on chamber windows, and twinkling through blink and curtain before sleepers' eyes, shed light even into dreams, and chased away the shadows of the night....The flowers that sleep by night, opened their gentle eyes and turned them to the day. The light, creation's mind, was everywhere, and all things owned its power.

Really lovely, and a jarring contrast to the description of poverty that follows.

Expand full comment
9 more comments...

No posts