Corpsey

bandz ahoy
"Then, began one of those extraordinary scenes with which the populace sometimes gratified their fickleness, or their better impulses towards generosity and mercy, or which they regarded as some set-off against their swollen account of cruel rage. No man can decide now to which of these motives such extraordinary scenes were referable; it is probable, to a blending of all the three, with the second predominating. No sooner was the acquittal pronounced, than tears were shed as freely as blood at another time, and such fraternal embraces were bestowed upon the prisoner by as many of both sexes as could rush at him, that after his long and unwholesome confinement he was in danger of fainting from exhaustion; none the less because he knew very well, that the very same people, carried by another current, would have rushed at him with the very same intensity, to rend him to pieces and strew him over the streets."
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
"The new era began; the king was tried, doomed, and beheaded; the Republic of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, declared for victory or death against the world in arms; the black flag waved night and day from the great towers of Notre Dame; three hundred thousand men, summoned to rise against the tyrants of the earth, rose from all the varying soils of France, as if the dragon’s teeth had been sown broadcast, and had yielded fruit equally on hill and plain, on rock, in gravel, and alluvial mud, under the bright sky of the South and under the clouds of the North, in fell and forest, in the vineyards and the olive-grounds and among the cropped grass and the stubble of the corn, along the fruitful banks of the broad rivers, and in the sand of the sea-shore. What private solicitude could rear itself against the deluge of the Year One of Liberty—the deluge rising from below, not falling from above, and with the windows of Heaven shut, not opened!

There was no pause, no pity, no peace, no interval of relenting rest, no measurement of time. Though days and nights circled as regularly as when time was young, and the evening and morning were the first day, other count of time there was none. Hold of it was lost in the raging fever of a nation, as it is in the fever of one patient. Now, breaking the unnatural silence of a whole city, the executioner showed the people the head of the king—and now, it seemed almost in the same breath, the head of his fair wife which had had eight weary months of imprisoned widowhood and misery, to turn it grey.

And yet, observing the strange law of contradiction which obtains in all such cases, the time was long, while it flamed by so fast. A revolutionary tribunal in the capital, and forty or fifty thousand revolutionary committees all over the land; a law of the Suspected, which struck away all security for liberty or life, and delivered over any good and innocent person to any bad and guilty one; prisons gorged with people who had committed no offence, and could obtain no hearing; these things became the established order and nature of appointed things, and seemed to be ancient usage before they were many weeks old."
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
"So strangely clouded were these refinements by the prison manners and gloom, so spectral did they become in the inappropriate squalor and misery through which they were seen, that Charles Darnay seemed to stand in a company of the dead. Ghosts all! The ghost of beauty, the ghost of stateliness, the ghost of elegance, the ghost of pride, the ghost of frivolity, the ghost of wit, the ghost of youth, the ghost of age, all waiting their dismissal from the desolate shore, all turning on him eyes that were changed by the death they had died in coming there."
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
Hints of 'Prufrock' in the peculiar simile in the first paragraph here.

"The night wore out, and, as he stood upon the bridge listening to the water as it splashed the river-walls of the Island of Paris, where the picturesque confusion of houses and cathedral shone bright in the light of the moon, the day came coldly, looking like a dead face out of the sky. Then, the night, with the moon and the stars, turned pale and died, and for a little while it seemed as if Creation were delivered over to Death’s dominion.

But, the glorious sun, rising, seemed to strike those words, that burden of the night, straight and warm to his heart in its long bright rays. And looking along them, with reverently shaded eyes, a bridge of light appeared to span the air between him and the sun, while the river sparkled under it."
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
i read a tale of two cities recently and enjoyed it a lot more than i thought i would. came out of it wishing i could be more like dickens. maybe not in terms of hairstyle (although rn i haven’t had a haircut since before covid so mine’s not much better). but for one, his ability to generate these lively, vivid characters that stay in your mind. the kind of characters where you don't even need for them to have a thematic or narrative reason for interacting, you can just let them bounce off each other for a while and the results are still fun to read.

it’s a quality that sort of slips through the cracks of the Good Writing checklist. it’s not the same thing as being able to write Well Developed characters at all. it's more like being able to write likable or even loveable characters--but not exactly that. but the most popular writers usually have it, while the aldous huxley types look on in frustration. “b-but where are the Ideas????”

quite frankly i’m not sure it’s a type of creativity that anyone around here specializes in. you typically need to be very viscerally in touch with human emotions, not interested in them in a weird detached or esoteric way.

it’s a subcategory of a broader distinction luka made one time. revealing the map vs. fancy. having a compelling perspective and approach vs. just making shit up, being able to pull specifics that you know people will like out of a top hat. i’ve always been envious of people who are extremely gifted at the latter.
I swear sometimes mvuent is the cleverest bastard of all time

(n/B apart from all the other clever bastards on here ;)
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
@jenks I know this is a vulgar thing to request but could you rank your top 10/5 dickens novels? You seem to have read them all and know them well.

When I read Dickens, as a prose stylist, I feel that not only can I not write but that most people can't write at all.

He drops all these clangers and howlers and cringers but most of the time I'm in a state of mild awe, knowing I could never write so well, at all, and certainly not so consistently.
 

jenks

thread death
@jenks I know this is a vulgar thing to request but could you rank your top 10/5 dickens novels? You seem to have read them all and know them well.

When I read Dickens, as a prose stylist, I feel that not only can I not write but that most people can't write at all.

He drops all these clangers and howlers and cringers but most of the time I'm in a state of mild awe, knowing I could never write so well, at all, and certainly not so consistently.
Give me a few hours

But yes, he managed to get away with some bizarre and clunky moments because so much else is so impressive
 

Benny Bunter

Well-known member
I think that banging mvuent post you just quoted is quite like Harold Bloom's thing of Shakespeare "inventing the human" - that ability to create characters you fall in love with, not necessarily 'well developed' as mvuent says, but are actually more 'real' than we ourselves are, they invent the human by expanding humanity, as far as we are a literary culture (maybe we aren't any more)

And the list of writers who can actually achieve that is quite short - Shakespeare's got loads obviously, but then there's Cervantes's Don Quijote/Sancho Panza, Joyce's Bloom (which is why I laughed at Luka the other day when he said Bloom "wasn't real" - of course he is!), Chaucer's pilgrims, Dickens probably has quite a few (not sure who cos I haven't read much Dickens) and...who else?
 

jenks

thread death
  • A chronological list - purely subjective and probably subject to change as i get round to re-reading the less favoured again - rattled off in fifteen minutes or so. I've read them all (plus the non fiction, Sketches from Boz, Christmas Stories and other bits and pieces) and re-read about half of them. Obviously others will want to disagree

  • The Pickwick Papers (1836) - a lot of fun, no real attempt at a plot and probably his most in debt to earlier novelists - more of a picaresque than a fully formed work - some say every novel he goes on to write has its seed in here 6/10
  • Oliver Twist (1837) - much better, darker and harder than the musical (obvs) it feels like a very long short novel - the early fascination with the energy and danger of dark characters is here plus the central character being a bit wet 6/10
  • Nicholas Nickleby (1838) Found this one quite hard going as i really didnt like Nicholas that much and it feels like it's written specifically to address a social problem 5/10
  • The Old Curiosity Shop (1840) recent re-read, here he starts to really hit his stride - the Little Nell tour of England accompanied by giants, punch and judy shows and assorted odd bods is contrasted with the world of Quilp and his sordid and corruption 8/10
  • Barnaby Rudge (1841) weird one, a first go at writing an avowedly historical novel and an attempt to dissect the mob - full of energy and violence but a bit of dud overall 5/10
  • Martin Chuzzlewit (1843) Dickens takes on America - a big baggy and capacious novel which doesn't quite work but you can see he needed to write it before hitting his stride. Great characters are pouring out of him at this stage - Mrs Gamp, amongst others 7/10
  • Dombey and Son (1846) first of the great novels - the first third is a study of the coldness of a single parent. Carker is one of the great villains and i remember having to put the book down when i read how Dickens dealt with him at the end 8/10
  • David Copperfield (1849) the shadow autobiography - the re-read a while back (aided by the discussion here) promoted this up the rankings. It's the start of the high wire act Dickens, lots of plotlines, multiple characters pulling at multiple sympathies but alos a willingness to.mine some of the dark and mucky stuff that motivates us 10/10
  • Bleak House (1852) Peerless - if i had to pick one of the 900 page books to spend time with, it would be this - he could have made Esther another Nell but he avoids the easy sentimentality. The layering of what someone called the 'old streaky bacon' ( the constant contrast of high and low, tragedy and comedy) is constant and the architecture of the novel is just astonishing 10/10
  • Hard Times (1854) good solid Dickens, a bit too obvious in the polemic, you don't want to read Germinal by Zola before this. i liked it enough on the re-read - descriptions of Coketown are righty used to show his skill but plotting and characterisation is thin. Years ago i was set an essay on 'who learns most in Hard Times?' one of my classmates submitted a one sentence response - Merryweather, the dog. 6/10
  • Little Dorritt (1855) the great prison novel - it's a very good but i think it suffers from Dorritt herself who is too good, too saintly - all the action that revolves around her is much more interesting, the crime and double dealing and the interplay between the City money and ordinary working people of Bleeding Heart Yard is well done 8/10
  • A Tale of Two Cities (1859) again the recent re-read moved this one up for me - tightly plotted and a great thriller - genuinely gripping and economically written - Dickens' contempt for the violence the revolution unleashed is savage - again that theme of redemption that he built into Dick Swiveller in Old Curiosity returns but to much great effect 8/10
  • Great Expectations (1860) one of my favourite novels ever, a book that grows as you re-read it. A novel about loss of identity, social embarrassment, mateship, sex and the past. 10/10
  • Our Mutual Friend (1864) this was the novel that got me into Dickens, definitely underrated - the golden dustman and Silas Wegg, the doubles of Headstone and Harmon like some kind of Jekyll and Hyde - aspects of Dickens' own conflicted attitudes towards to sex and love. Rogue Ridnghood the last great Dickens villain. Thick with plot like London fog 10/10
  • The Mystery of Edwin Drood (1870) a curio, not much to say except the scenes in Limehouse signals taht he was prepared, once again to go deep into the psychologically disturbing stuff 5/10
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
Fucking fantastic, thanks!

I've found reading him a mixed bag as I keep saying but there's a strong element of "I need to read more of him" always there.

I read "Great Expectations" probably over a decade ago and like everything else I've ever read it's sunk into oblivion for the most part.
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
Finished "A Tale" last night. Ignore how flagrantly improbable it all is and it has a great ending.

He actually "got" me, too, with the whole guillotine scene. I was genuinely moved, where previously I'd been rolling my eyes and snorting at his attempts at jerking tears from my cynical postmodern face.
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
The bolded below is an acute observation and I assume at least subconsciously the inspiration for Orwell's "A Hanging".

Of the riders in the tumbrils, some observe these things, and all things on their last roadside, with an impassive stare; others, with a lingering interest in the ways of life and men. Some, seated with drooping heads, are sunk in silent despair; again, there are some so heedful of their looks that they cast upon the multitude such glances as they have seen in theatres, and in pictures. Several close their eyes, and think, or try to get their straying thoughts together. Only one, and he a miserable creature, of a crazed aspect, is so shattered and made drunk by horror, that he sings, and tries to dance. Not one of the whole number appeals by look or gesture, to the pity of the people.

Stuff like this shows that Dickens had as penetrating an understanding of psychology as the more respected realists, it's just he is more interested in creating caricatures. In fact, I think you're best off understanding Dickens stuff as akin to fairy stories, with dream logic, some hidden magician orchestrating all the coincidences behind the scenes.
"No; the great magician who majestically works out the appointed order of the Creator, never reverses his transformations. “If thou be changed into this shape by the will of God,” say the seers to the enchanted, in the wise Arabian stories, “then remain so! But, if thou wear this form through mere passing conjuration, then resume thy former aspect!” Changeless and hopeless, the tumbrils roll along."
 

jenks

thread death
Finished "A Tale" last night. Ignore how flagrantly improbable it all is and it has a great ending.

He actually "got" me, too, with the whole guillotine scene. I was genuinely moved, where previously I'd been rolling my eyes and snorting at his attempts at jerking tears from my cynical postmodern face.
Yes. There is a strong sense of sincerity in how he does it which draws the reader in, almost despite themselves. I really felt this in DC when Barkis dies. Or the schoolchild in OCS
 
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