Bleak House
I have a war-time edition of this Dickens classic, which means that it's printed on very thin paper - so while it looks like a slim volume, it's actually nearly a thousand pages. Not only that, but it bursts with richness, in characters, plot twists, passionate language, humour and drama. It's more like a world than a book.
Basically, there's a law case, Jarndyce vs Jarndyce, which has been going on for generations. All these people get caught up in the case and their lives are ruined by uncertainty and bitterness, or by the avarice of others. Only those who choose to stay right out of it manage to salvage their lives.
It's told from two points of view; one is Esther, who is a companion to one of the Jarndyce wards, a woman who never knew her parents and who was born out of wedlock, but a woman universally loved because of her (overly unrealistic) kindness and thoughtfulness. Her sections are too sentimental for modern tastes. And then the narrator, Dickens, tells the rest of the story with his characteristic swings from irony to humour to pathos.
There are many memorable characters: Mrs Jellaby, who neglects her own family to worry about a mission in Africa; her daughter who marries a dance-master; cold, beautiful, tortured Mrs Deadlock and her oblivious husband who is obsessed with the Coodles and Doodles ruling England (I must say I found that passage hysterically funny); Jo, a poor waif who spends his whole life being told to "move on", with nowhere to go, and the terrifying villain of the piece, Mr Tulkinghorn who blackmails and threatens without compunction, causing death after death, until someone shoots him.
So there's a murder mystery, there's the mystery of Esther's birth, there's the drama of court, there's people dying left right and centre, there's the suffering of the poor and the callousness of the rich; it's all pure Dickens. There's even a bit of obvious book-jumping; Thursday Next must have stepped in by mistake because Michael Jackson is referred to, completely gratutiously.
It's definitely not his best. It goes on and on. The recent BBC version dragged, even though it cut out a lot of characters in the hope of creating a more coherent story, but that didn't work. It's less of a book than a soap opera, but with the depth, richness, and power of Dickens. It's why most modern books seem so bland and flat; they haven't the guts to be angry the way he's angry or to laugh as loudly as he laughs.
Basically, there's a law case, Jarndyce vs Jarndyce, which has been going on for generations. All these people get caught up in the case and their lives are ruined by uncertainty and bitterness, or by the avarice of others. Only those who choose to stay right out of it manage to salvage their lives.
It's told from two points of view; one is Esther, who is a companion to one of the Jarndyce wards, a woman who never knew her parents and who was born out of wedlock, but a woman universally loved because of her (overly unrealistic) kindness and thoughtfulness. Her sections are too sentimental for modern tastes. And then the narrator, Dickens, tells the rest of the story with his characteristic swings from irony to humour to pathos.
There are many memorable characters: Mrs Jellaby, who neglects her own family to worry about a mission in Africa; her daughter who marries a dance-master; cold, beautiful, tortured Mrs Deadlock and her oblivious husband who is obsessed with the Coodles and Doodles ruling England (I must say I found that passage hysterically funny); Jo, a poor waif who spends his whole life being told to "move on", with nowhere to go, and the terrifying villain of the piece, Mr Tulkinghorn who blackmails and threatens without compunction, causing death after death, until someone shoots him.
So there's a murder mystery, there's the mystery of Esther's birth, there's the drama of court, there's people dying left right and centre, there's the suffering of the poor and the callousness of the rich; it's all pure Dickens. There's even a bit of obvious book-jumping; Thursday Next must have stepped in by mistake because Michael Jackson is referred to, completely gratutiously.
It's definitely not his best. It goes on and on. The recent BBC version dragged, even though it cut out a lot of characters in the hope of creating a more coherent story, but that didn't work. It's less of a book than a soap opera, but with the depth, richness, and power of Dickens. It's why most modern books seem so bland and flat; they haven't the guts to be angry the way he's angry or to laugh as loudly as he laughs.
posted by Carly at 3:46 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home