We're not anywhere near getting a full picture at this point, but there have been definite developments.
Lady Dedlock continues to be a difficult woman to entertain. Most recently, she showed
that she is also hilariously bad at undercover work (“I am but a lowly servant
woman. DON’T TOUCH ME, PEASANT.”)
Richard has his hands full sorting out what he wants to
be when he grows up.
 |
| We've ruled out priest and surgeon, but little black rain cloud is still a viable option. |
And what of our dear Esther? As practical as she is in the matters of
the Jarndyce household and other people’s lives in general, she can’t seem to
afford herself the same no-nonsense treatment everyone else gets. Guppy is stalking her. Brazenly. And yet she
says, “It was at the theatre that I began to be made uncomfortable again by Mr.
Guppy.” Never has there been a more telling use of passive voice. Repeat
after me, Esther: Guppy is making me
uncomfortable.
She still seems to be in love with Ada (“It was so
pretty to have her clinging to me in that way . . . that I would not help her
just yet”; “To see Ada lift up her flushed face in joyful surprise, and hold me
round the neck, and laugh, and cry, and blush, was so pleasant!”), but now Mr. Woodcourt, the young dark surgeon (who I think is the same young dark
surgeon present at Nemo’s death scene) has entered the picture. I'm not sure how Esther feels about him. She gets a bit squirrelly on the
subject of Woodcourt, talking out of the corner of her mouth about his
participation in the events of her narrative, if she talks about him at all.
Dickens is providing plenty of commentary on the disparity
between the upper and lower classes, but along with that, he seems to be
showing us that children are the most vulnerable casualties of this system, even
below unattached women. Just look at Tom and Charley.
It was the first time since our entry that a tear had been shed among these children. The little orphan girl had spoken of their father and their mother as if all that sorrow were subdued by the necessity of taking courage, and by her childish importance in being able to work, and by her bustling busy way. But now, when Tom cried, although she sat quite tranquil, looking quietly at us, and did not by any movement disturb a hair of the head of either of her little charges, I saw two silent tears fall down her face.
 |
| Not crying. Not . . . crying. |
And then there’s Jo, who is even more alone in the world
than Tom and Charley, because he doesn’t have a Tom or a Charley. And he is further victimized by his keen awareness
that society considers him more an animal than a human, and also that he quite
agrees with that judgment in the end. But what can he do to improve his
standing? Nothing whatsoever, because the system is stacked against him. Even
when he’s given money—the great equalizer—the more powerful rob him of it in one way
and another, and then nobody believes his story about how he obtained the
little he has left. He cannot win.
In other developments . . .
- My fondness for Boythorn grows, helped along by his outspoken distaste for one Harold Skimpole and one Harold Skimpole’s continued lack of principle, and sealed by his extreme commitment to this dispute with Sir Leicester. The man posted cheeky “No Trespassing” signs and set up an elaborate bell-and-bulldog attack plan. He’s my hero.
- I think that Mrs. Chadband is Mrs. Rachael Chadband. This gives me hope that we may yet see her get her comeuppance for being an evil hag to little Esther. Regardless, she’s married to Mr. Chadband, so her suffering has just begun.
- Guppy and Smallweed are up to no good. I don’t know exactly what they’re up to just yet, but they’ve put Mr. Jobling in Krook’s open room and connected him with work law-writing for Snagsby and introduced him to Krook by a made-up name (Mr. Weevle? At least let the man choose his own alias). It feels as though Nemo’s mysterious history may be repeating itself with a new mark. And Guppy may be even worse than he already seems.
 |
| We can ALL see your bad-guy costume under that top hat. |
