New Century Reading

David Copperfield

We're in the great wind-down phase now. Much happened in these four chapters, of which the most important feels like the deaths of Ham and Steerforth during that dreadful tempest. Tempest--there's a word that sounds downright lighthearted and not at all like the nightmare it really was, rather like last month in Britain.

Unfortunately this section was bookended with two chapters on the Micawbers, who, by this point, I'm happy to see fading off into the sunset, heading to Australia. I have no doubt they will be no more financially responsible there than they were in their home country. And long-winded. Mr. Micawber is quite fortunate that he chose to do the right thing in terms of Uriah Heep, or he'd be trapped forever in debtor's prison.

Speaking of the Heep of infamy, what's up with him filing all those suits against Micawber? Shouldn't he be hiding somewhere, hoping Davy and Agnes don't haul him to court?

The storm was more than impressive, and the impact of Ham trying to help the person who turned out to have destroyed his life--in more ways than one--was of course tremendously sad. Even Steerforth's loss is sad, as Davy faces the difficulty of first what to do with his body and second notifying his family. Interesting tidbit: At the beginning of chapter 56, there's this line: "They felt as if it were not right to lay [Steerforth] down in the same quiet room." In the footnotes, this: "MS adds, 'While I tried to consider what it would be best to do, the wind plucked at the flag, as if it were eager to get underneath and see its work.'" I wish Dickens had kept that line intact.

And oh my, Miss Dartle! What a picture of vengeance and anger! Yet Mrs. Steerforth, before he tells her about her son's death, clearly knows something is amiss and still finds it in her to say kind things to Davy about his being a widower.

I still feel like there might be more Heep to come. Certainly I hope he meets his "great pulverisation", as Mr. Micawber put it. But clearly ends are wrapping up. Ham, Steerforth, Emily, Martha, the Micawbers, the Peggottys, Mrs. Gummidge--all accounted for. What's left? Davy, Agnes, Aunt Betsey, Mr. Dick, and Heep.

All righty then. One more week. Finish the book.

David Copperfield

Little Em'ly is found, safe, Mr. Peggotty is happy, moving to Australia, former fiance is sad, Davy has become an established author (and I chuckled at Mr. Omer's assessment of his book: "And as to feeling sleepy! Not at all!"), blah blah blah. Let's get to what's really important: the takedown of Uriah Heep.

I have one tiny grumble about the unveiling of the dastardly activities of Mr. Heep (the HEEP of Infamy!!). Fond as I am of Mr. Micawber, and how lovely to see him step up and do the right thing even though he has no reason to believe his own personal circumstances won't improve for it, Lord Almighty but it took him forever to get to his point. I know Dickens was going for humor, but I couldn't help starting to feel impatient. And sad at how little Aunt Betsey was involved. Don't you kind of wish Aunt Betsey had been the one to discover this infamy? Imagine how fun her unveiling would have been!

But no matter. Heep has been unmasked for the dreadful creature his physiognomy has always made him seem to be. I can only hope there will be severe punishment. And that his mother is punished too for her aiding and abetting.

So...Did Dora die at the end of the last chapter, in concert with Jip? And why did she want to talk to Agnes? I don't think it takes a Sherlock to figure out what that conversation was all about.

Dickens is rapidly approaching the end. I hope he doesn't pull an Our Mutual Friend and wrap every loose end up at the speed of light. Two more weeks. Next week, chapters 54-57.

David Copperfield

"Villany is the matter; baseness is the matter; deception, fraud, conspiracy, are the matter; and the name of the whole atrocious mess is -- HEEP!"

I think this is the most satisfying sentence in the entire book so far.

This was a pretty satisfying section overall. It's book-ended with references to suicide: in the opening section, Martha has fallen so far that she wants the river to take her away forever, and at the end, we have the odious Miss Dartle urging Little Em'ly to kill herself. In between, we have the clear sense that Dora isn't long for the world, although she doesn't seem destined to die in childbirth:

"The spirit fluttered for a moment on the threshold of its little prison, and, unconscious of captivity, took wing."

OK, that is an absolutely beautiful and heart-rending description of miscarriage.

We learn the truth about the strange man and Aunt Betsey, which felt sort of anti-climactic along with everything else, although I very much liked her self-described "grumpy, frumpy story". But we also had the wonderfully dramatic story of the Micawbers. We don't know what's happened, exactly, but we know Uriah Heep is at the root of it, and dare we hope that Mr. Micawber actually has some proof to put down this villain once and for all, and release the Wickfields from his evil grasp? Now that's a worthy cliffhanger.

Do you think Twaddles will ever get married? And why didn't Davy rush in to protect Little Em'ly from the demonic Dartle? Why wait for Mr. Peggotty? What was the point of that?

Only three more weeks--chapters 51-53 for next week. Or maybe four weeks, if I get around to reading the introduction to my edition (Penguin Classic) and want to talk about it.

David Copperfield

Well, this set of chapters had a little bit of everything. The first chapter, Housekeeping, was hilarious. But it also showed what I think is the beginning of marital problems, and some excellent common sense on the part of Aunt Betsey when she refuses to become involved. We all know "that" relative who sticks her nose in where it doesn't belong. Aunt Betsey is wise to simply be a friend, not a nag.

But just a few paragraphs into the housekeeping drollery, we have this sentence: "It was such a wonderful thing, at first, to have her coming softly down to talk to me as I ate my supper." That "at first" is rather ominous.

Then Mr. Dick proves that a simple man can be the perfect conduit for re-establishing marital harmony. Take that, Uriah Heep! In fact, I might go so far to say that not only did Heep not firmly ruin the Strongs' marriage, his interference, thanks to Mr. Dick, probably made the marriage better and (sorry) stronger. But, sadly, Mrs. Strong's statement that "There can be no disparity in marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose" clearly resonates with Davy. He may still be infatuated with his little Dora, but I think he's starting to realize that she may not have been the best choice for him for wife. He's already seen what a bad marriage looks like, thanks to Mr. Murdstone. Now he may be realizing bad marriages come in different forms.

Then, oh, that awful visit to the Steerforth home. Miss Dartle, what a wench, am I right? Yet Mrs. Steerforth, still so angry, finds it in her heart to tell Davy that his mother would have been proud of him. That scene ends with Dickens at his best in incorporating visuals and emotions:

"As I moved away from them along the terrace, I could not help observing how steadily they both sat gazing on the prospect, and how it thickened and closed around them. Here and there, some early lamps were seen to twinkle in the distant city; and in the eastern quarter of the sky the lurid light still hovered. But, from the greater part of the broad valley interposed, a mist was rising like a sea, which, mingling with the darkness, made it seem as if the gathering waters would encompass them. I have reason to remember this, and think of it with awe; for before I looked upon those two again, a stormy sea had risen to their feet."

The chapter ends with Davy and Mr. Peggotty hot on the trail of Little Em'ly by way of the fallen Martha. I suspect Little Em'ly will be found soon.

Something that struck me in this section was how I get a firm sense that Davy's marriage isn't going to last long, yet, looking back from many years, he still speaks of Dora with love and fondness. Whatever happens, it doesn't seem like it's going to sour him on her.

Some great lines in this section too. About Mrs. Strong's mother: "She was one of those people who can bear a great deal of pleasure". All of Aunt Betsey's asides during the scene at the Strongs. And this gem, about one of the many housekeeping Incapables: "Who was one of the most amiable of women, but who generally made a point of falling either up or down the kitchen stairs with a tray, and almost always plunged into the parlor, as into a bath, with the tea-things."

Next week: Chapters 47-50.

David Copperfield

Let's just cut right to the chase. Was I the only person who ended this section expecting one of two things: Either Uriah Heep would somehow ruin the wedding, or the wedding was just a dream?

I've been puzzled a little by Davy's ongoing infatuation with Dora, who seems rather vacuous, but a comment Peggotty makes in the last chapter, that she had seen Davy's mother's wedding, made me think: did Davy unconsciously marry his mother?

And I am the only one who wishes we'd have had a detailed scene of Aunt Betsey and the misses Clarissa and Lavinia, rather than a summary?

For whatever missed expectations or disappointments, the middle chapter, with the odious Mr. Heep, really gripped me. His eeliness/oiliness has never been so reprehensible, and the little power play with Dr. Strong was despicable. Dickens does a lovely job describing the aftermath. Whatever Mrs. Strong's faults and misdirected affections, we have never seen her be unkind to her husband, and as she realizes something is wrong, her increased despair says that even if he is not her first choice, she does have some feeling for him. It's touching. And all to keep Mrs. Strong from being too close to Agnes.

The chapter's title, Mischief, seems like the understatement of the year.

Why on earth does Agnes like Dora? And what about that ominous letter from Mrs. Micawber?

We only have five weeks left. While the wedding itself seems happy, the final sentences of this section seems to be full of foreboding: "I have stood aside to see the phantoms of thsoe days go by me. They are gone, and I resume the journey of my story."

Next week, chapters 44-46.

 

David Copperfield

Well. We are hopping right along now. Mr. Spenlow learns of Davy's and Dora's engagement, and makes his opinion known, much to everyone's dismay. Then he dies! Did anyone but me find his death sort of hilarious? What, he had a heart attack and pitched off the side of his carriage? Not very creative, Mr. Dickens!

Miss Murdstone makes a brief but memorable appearance--hurray for this line: "Miss Murdstone gave me her chilly finger-nails", which I will remember every time I'm forced to shake hands with someone I don't like in the future.

But now Dora is a complete wreck, and I fear Miss Mills is not going to be of much help now. Even worse, in his frantic desire to get to Dora and re-establish communication and their engagement, Davy revisits the Wickfields, where it is clear just how completely Uriah Heep is taking hold of things. Even Mr. Micawber is under his spell. Heep has become a truly sinister character, along with his mother (and what is the deal with Dickens and knitters? He really has a thing about making them evil), and one of the best quotes in that chapter is when Dickens describes mother and son as "like two great bats hanging over the whole house." That scene where Davy wants to talk to Agnes, but can't shake the Heeps, is chilling. OTOH, "can't shake the Heeps" may be a new expression to designate times when you feel something bad is about to happen, although you have no reason to think that.

Then there is the sad appearance of Mr. Peggotty--and of fallen Martha. Where do you think that money has come from--as in where did Little Em'ly come by the cash to send to her family? Seems rather ominous to me.

And what will Dora's aunts say to Davy's plea? Will they stay firm? Or, since it sounds like they weren't exactly close with Mr. Spenlow, will they allow the romance to continue? I guess (maybe) we'll find out next week, in chapters 41-43.

David Copperfield

Oh, my. We get a full boatload of Dickensian character glory in this section. We finally meet the dreaded Mr. Jorkins, he who controls the purse strings with steely resolve--or not. We finally get more of Aunt Betsey, and don't we all rejoice for that? I know I do. It comes as no surprise that she makes short work of Mrs. Crupp's bullying:

"My aunt had obtained a signal victory over Mrs Crupp, by paying her off, throwing the first pitcher she planted on the stairs out of window, and protecting in person, up and down the staircase, a supernumerary whom she engaged from the outer world. These vigorous measures struck such terror to the breast of Mrs Crupp that she subsided into her own kitchen, under the impression that my aunt was mad. My aunt being supremely indifferent to Mrs Crupp's opinion and everybody else's, and rather favoring than discouraging the idea, Mrs Crupp, of late the bold, became within a few days so faint-hearted, that rather than encounter my aunt upon the staircase, she would endeavour to hid her portly form behind doors...This gave my aunt such unspeakable satisfaction, that I believe she took a delight in prowling up and down, with her bonnet insanely perched on the top of her head, at times when Mrs Crupp was likely to be in the way."

There were a certain number of "awww" moments. Poor Mr. Dick, upon finally realizing what "ruin" meant, trying to figure out how he could help, and thanks to Traddles, finding a way. Mr. Micawber *not* hitting up Davy for money. (Although there was the moment of him giving Traddles the IOU and behaving as if that was the end of the matter.) Davy's sweet efforts to dive headfirst into the world of work to keep everything afloat.

But then there were the less-sweet moments. The indolent Jack Maldon and Dr. Strong's obliviousness. The decline of Mr. Wickfield and the continued odiousness of Uriah Heep. And, finally, Dora's reaction to Davy's news. This does not bode well, not at all. Oh, Davy, Miss Mills appears to be the far better choice for life's companion than the vain and silly Dora.

So, it was an OK section for me. Next week, chapters 38-40. Stay warm!!

David Copperfield

OK. After last week's disappointing (to me) section, I'm back on board with Davy & Co. This was a better section. It's neatly bookended by dire actions: Mr. Peggotty's off to find Little Em'ly, which seems a mostly hopeless venture (although what a turnaround for Mrs. Gummidge!), following the hideous encounter at the Steerforth home (Dickens does a beautiful job of drawing the class lines in this chapter), and ends with Aunt Betsey's shocking revelation.

In the middle we have the deliriously happy Davy, who finally expresses his devotion to his darling Dora, and they are engaged. What a silly, glorious chapter, with its over-the-top excesses. And yet, are there hints of problems to come? Dora says she cannot be married without her father's permission, and at the end of the section, we don't yet know if he's granted it. Also, they have a big fight, over what we're not told, and although they make up quickly, you have to wonder what drove Davy from his extreme bliss to being angry so quickly.

The reappearance of Mr. Murdstone is never a good omen. I'm beginning to think he and his sister are going to pop up periodically forever, and they always bring a cloud of doom when one or the other of them appears. Interesting that he's remarrying--sad that he's remarrying someone clearly a lot younger than he is, and what now of Miss Murdstone? Will she move back with him and torment the new wife to her grave?

Then there's Aunt Betsey: she's lost almost everything. What will this mean for Davy? And his proposed marriage? It's entirely likely that Dora's father will not look kindly on a match with Davy, if Davy's fortune has evaporated. And we don't know yet what happened, but I'd bet dollars to donuts it has something to do with the strange man Aunt Betsey has been giving money to.

Oh--and poor Miss Mills. What's her story? Dickens has a great line about her: "What time Miss Mills sat looking at the moon, murmuring verses and recalling, I suppose, the ancient days when she and earth had anything in common." And she sits there, copying a song called Affection's Dirge. Oh dear.

I'm back on board, although still hold my opinion that I'm likely to prefer Bleak House when all is said and done. Kristin noted in last week's comments that Dickens viewed Copperfield as his favorite, not his best, and there is a difference in the two. That makes sense. I think the problem I'm having overall is that Davy, other than his early years, really hasn't suffered much. When you think of Esther and Lady Dedlock, tied by Esther's birth and both greatly affected by it throughout both of their lives, Davy has it pretty easy overall. That's not just as compelling.

Next week, chapters 35-37.

David Copperfield

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that, as we've reached the halfway point of Davy's story, I predict I'm going to prefer Bleak House.

Because, dayum, it is taking FOREVER for anything of any note to happen. Finally, finally, we have Steerforth spiriting Little Em'ly away, something that's been easy to see coming for a very long time. But the last chapter of this section itself, where we finally learned of this event, dragged on and on. I guess it's a good thing Mr. Barkis kicked the bucket, or Davy would have missed the entire event.

I don't know. My enjoyment is wavering. I've got enough time invested in the book to want to see how it all plays out (I honestly don't know), but my patience is wearing thin. This could be because I'm in the middle of two other books that are much livelier. Whatever. This section pretty much left me yawning. Oh, Mr. Micawber is making big financial mistakes again? Yawn. Miss Dartle is the weirdest conversationalist ever? Snore.

I didn't even mark any particular passages that tickled me. So--is it just me, or are you feeling less than enthralled?

And Dickens thought of this as his best book. I guess, unless something drastically happens in the second section, I would have to attribute that to a fondness on his part for remembering his past.

David Copperfield

And we're back! I hope you all had a lovely holiday season. This week's section started off most appropriately, with Davy ruing his recent dissipation. That was timely, coming on the heels of the excesses of the holidays. (That said, my excesses were done before New Year's Eve; while some carouse wildly, in my house, DH was in bed by 9, and I sat up long enough to watch the documentary on Jonestown I had on the DVR because, well, I'm wild and crazy like that.)

So. Davy starts out as a mess and has to go humble himself to Agnes, who (rightly) points a finger at Steerforth. Davy claims that his own opinion of Steerforth darkens a bit because of Agnes's opinion, but he sure seems willing to defend him.

But no matter, because there are worse problems on the horizon. Namely, the odious Uriah Heep is not only being brought into partnership with Agnes's father, but Heep tells Davy that he has designs on Agnes. Dickens's continual descriptions of Heep as some kind of deranged snake or eel lead to some uncomfortable feelings about this potential union.

But then Davy is distracted from this worrying train of thought by meeting the love of his life, Dora. And! Her father has hired none other than the dreadful Miss Murdstone to be her "confidential companion"! Dora's right--he didn't hire well. Interesting that Miss Murdstone is the one to broach the topic of keeping the past in the past with Davy--perhaps she realizes some of her actions, along with her brother, could jeopardize her current employment? And why is she employed? Did the Murdstones fall into hard times after the death of Davy's mother? Hmmm.

And then there's Tommy Traddles, whose woes only start with his name. Rooming with the Micawbers doesn't bode well for him, nor does his engagement under such meager circumstances. Oy.

I'm getting the sense that this book, like pretty much everything I've read by Dickens, is about the importance of money in life, and the desperation its lack can cause.

Favorite line: [Traddles:] "'However, I began, with the assistance of the son of a professional man, who had been to Salem House--Yawler, with his nose on one side. Do you recollect him?'"

"No. He had not been there with me; all the noses were straight in my day."

Next week, four chapters, 28-31, although in my edition it's about the same page count as most of the other sections. Stay warm, Midwesterners! It could be worse! You could be the Micawbers and have your heat and electricity shut off!