Some years ago, I was at a dinner with a couple of other priests I had not seen in a while. In conversation I mentioned that I was reading through all the novels of Dickens. Their disgust was almost palpable, and a complete surprise to me. Theirs was not the "I was made to read Dickens at school and hated it" kind of dislike, it was a cultural distaste; some of Dickens' works were published weekly and were the soap operas of the day (O tempora! O mores!) My guess was that he was also seen as a kind of socialist, though they explicitly objected to his sentimentality. Apparently nowadays too, according to a commenter over at WDTPRS, literary modernists don't like him for various reasons, principally related to his style of writing.
Well I did read through most of the novels and thoroughly enjoyed them. It was while reading one edition in a rather small print "complete works" collection which my sister gave me, that I realised that I should go and get my eyes tested: I have worn spectacles for reading ever since. That interrupted me, I did not get back to the great man and so I have not yet read the American Notes or Martin Chuzzlewit. Now I will look out for a collected works edition for the Kindle and probably start reading them all again.
People who like Dickens vary in their reasons for doing so. One of my own is his wit, the way that he gently lampoons many of his characters. Since reading him, I have never been much attracted to films or television adaptations of his stories (much less the tedious "Oliver" musical) because they cannot capture the observational humour of his descriptions of people and their foibles; and those are often the best parts of his books.
I just took a few volumes from the bookcase to look, more or less at random, at passages I marked. Here is one from Barnaby Rudge that made me chuckle again:
... they sat down to tea in the bar, where there was an uncommon display of buttered toast, and - in order that they might not grow faint for want of sustenance, and might have a decent halting-place or halfway house between dinner and supper - a few savoury trifles in the shape of great rashers of broiled ham, which being well cured, done to a turn, and smoking hot, sent forth a tempting and delicious fragrance.If you want to start on Dickens, Barnaby Rudge is a good choice for Catholics because it involves Lord Gordon and the riots in London against the Papist Act of 1778 which relieved some of the penalties imposed upon Catholics.
Mrs Varden was seldom very Protestant at meals, unless it happened that they were underdone, or overdone, or indeed that anything occurred to put her out of humour. Her spirits rose considerably on beholding these goodly preparations, and from the nothingness of good works, she passed to the somethingness of ham and toast with great cheerfulness. Nay, under the influence of these wholesome stimulants, she sharply reproved her daughter for being low and despondent (which she considered an unacceptable frame of mind), and remarked, as she held her own plate for a fresh supply, that it would be well for Dolly, who pined over the loss of a toy and a sheet of paper, if she would reflect upon the voluntary sacrifices of the missionaries in foreign parts who lived chiefly on salads.
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I agree what you say about TV adaptations Father, the One exception I would make is be the recent (2008) adaptation of Little Dorrit. Although they had to excise several of the subplots the producers managed to capture the feeling of the book perfectly.
Unfortunatly many people these days seem not to have the attention span required to read Dickens, a few chapters can take an hour to read so going through an entire novel can seem intimidating if you don't have the commitment to read it.
Thanks, Father, I think I will read Barnaby Rudge again. At the moment I am listening to an unabridged audio-book of Edwin Drood – miles better than the recent BBC version, but still very weird!
When I first began researching the life of William Theodore Cardinal Heard and discovered that his first recorded contact with the Catholic Church had been his working with the people who opened the Fisher Club (now Downside Club) attached to Most Holy Trinity, Dockhead, Bermondsey, I was quite amused. I had heard of Dockhead having read Oliver Twist!
"In such a neighbourhood, beyond Dockhead in the Borough of Southwark, stands Jacob’s Island...the warehouses are roofless and empty; the walls are crumbling down; the windows are windows no more; the doors are falling into the streets; the chimneys are blackened, but they yield no smoke. Thirty or forty years ago, before losses and chancery suits came upon it, it was a thriving place; but now it is a desolate island indeed. The houses have no owners; they are broken open, and entered upon by those who have the courage; and there they live, and there they die. They must have powerful motives for a secret residence, or be reduced to a destitute condition indeed, who seek a refuge in Jacob’s Island.”
The parish church for the area within which the Fisher Club operated early in the century, and the Downside Settlement operates today, The Most Holy Trinity, lies about a quarter of a mile from Jacob’s Island, although it is no longer the original church building in which Cardinal Heard served.
Forgive me for saying so, but those two fellow priest diners of yours sound like a couple of snobs!
I never realised priests could be snobs, yet now on thinking about it, why on earth shouldn't they?
I fear I've been living in a very idealistic bubble, regarding clergy in general.
I love 'A Christmas Carol'. My favourite TV adaptation was the one with the guy out of Star Trek, the Next Generation, in it.
That one really got me thinking about Judgment Day, in a way that still sends shivers through me old timbers!!!
My Nan used to get me to read Dickens to her, at night. She had a whole row of rusty red books, with all his works, I remember.
Mindyou, she also used to get me to read Barbara Cartland novels out loud to her as well, so I reckon I would have caused your two priest fellas to choke on thier grub(food), had I been present at the dinner recalling memories hahahahaha!!!!
The old David Lean film of 'Great Expectations' (1946) is a masterpiece, though.
Will you go on to Trollope after Dickens?
Strange! GK Chesterton regarded Dickens as representing the surviaval of traditions of a pre-reformation England.
Father, I started reading Dickens a couple of years ago (after about a 20 year gap).He has his faults but I'm frequently astonished at his powers of imagination and description. Read the description of the boys at Dotheboys Hall in Nicholas Nickleby, if you want Dickens at his best.
I've not read Barnaby Rudge but I'll add it to my list .(Currently on Little Dorrit). I know he didn't care much for Popery but he seems to dislike Evangelicals even more.
Father, can anyone - contumacious Dickens-avoiding female photographer parishioners excepted, of course - get through the first 100 pages of, say, David Copperfield and not want to read the entirety of the canon?
Chesterton said: "Dickens didn't write what the people wanted. He wanted what the people wanted."
I discovered Dickens a few years ago and have never failed to be astonished at his ability to captivate the imagination by descriptive writing.
To read any of his magnificent novels is akin to watching the Victorian era through a microscope. The description of everyday Victorian life is complete. One could almost be there in person.
My favoritr work of fiction is David Copperfield.
As you said, Fr, it is full of great wit humor and love of man.
Mr Macawber is my fovorite character.
Dickens is my favoritr non Catholic British author.
Father, Father! Maybe it's our "Americanness", but my wife and I absolutely love Sir Carroll Reed's "Oliver" - and the TV adaptations as well. (Sometimes I wonder, though, if it's just that we are in thrall to British drama and British actors in general). And I certainly agree with Just another mad Catholic on the 2008 Little Dorrit!
Hughie - in the London migration, the traditional place for people from Holy Trinity Dockhead to move to is Blackfen. When I went up to Dockhead to celebrate the funeral of a relative of a parishioner (obviously Albins were the funeral directors) I told the parish priest that I regarded Holy Trinity as the Mother Church for Blackfen :-)
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