Lifted from Dingle Foot's Intro to Hard Times
Yes, he lists his name as Dingle Foot:
Of course, Dickens was himself a snob. As George Orwell pointed out, nothing in any of his novels is more convincing than his description in David Copperfield of his shame and humiliation at having to work in the blacking factory with Mick Walker and Mealy Potatoes. ... Yet nowhere in David Copperfield does he exhibit the slightest sympathy for Mick Walker and Mealy Potatoes. It never seems to have crossed his mind that they also were unfortunates, or that someone should be indignant on their behalf. His only feeling was one of acute self-pity at having been obliged to associate with them. This does not mean, of course, that he had no sympathy for the working classes. But he did not expect to live with them.
His snobbery was, however, the snobbery of the English commercial middle class -- a class which in DIckens's formative years had a pride all its own. It did not desire to ape the aristocracy, and nothing is more striking in Dickens's work than his general contempt for titles, office-holders, and almost any kind of uniform.
No one would dare suggest that Dickens could not portray the working classes. But, except in David Copperfield, nearly all his working-class characters are comic characters.
Dickens disliked trade unions in much the same way that he disliked the work-house, or the Circumlocution Office, or the House of Commons, or the Courts of Law. They were all of them great, or potentially great, organizations, and Dickens displays a marked bias against every form of organized institution. The only unit in which he is interested is the family. ... His favourite ending is a kind of enormous household re-union. Pickwick, Nicholas Nickleby, and Martin Chuzzlewit all conclude in much the same way, The virtuous characters settle down to a state of perpetual, unbroken domesticity.
As has been frequently remarked, there is an obvious lacuna in Dickens's social philosophy. He was passionately on the side of anyone who was weak or oppressed, and he succeeded in communicating his tremendous indignation to his contemporaries. He supplied the impetus which led to many of the reforms which marked the second half of the nineteenth century. The system of judicature was thoroughly overhauled. The Civil Service was established on a new foundation. ... Although Dickens was himself largely responsible for all these changes he never suggested the shape which they should take. To do so would necessarily have taken him into the sphere of politicians, civil servants, and judges, that is to say, of all those persons in official positions whom he so cordially disliked.
The lesson which Dickens persistently teaches -- and indeed it is almost the whole of his creed -- is the value of human kindness. Almost every happy ending in his novels is the result either of a change of heart or of the exercise of sheer philanthropy. Scrooge is changed overnight. Mr. Winkle, senior, relents at the appropriate moment and welcomes Arabella as his daughter-in-law. For no clearly apparent reason the kindly Mr. Brownlow takes Oliver Twist into his home. Nicholas Nickleby is saved from penury by his opportune meeting with the Cheeryble Brothers, who are philanthropists in the guise of employers. The sum total of happiness can only, it seems, be maintained by an unfailing supply of benevolent old gentlemen with ample means.
There is, I think, a still further explanation of Dickens's philosophy -- or lack of it. He lived in an age of melodrama. It is obvious that he was intensely interested in the stage, and indeed in every form of then existing entertainment. ... And nearly all his plots are essentially melodramatic. It has been remarked that his characters (always, of course, with the exception of the autobiographical David Copperfield) never develop. They are fully formed from the beginning. Now this is the essential characteristic of melodrama. The hero must be forever above reproach. The villain must be a monster of iniquity. The comic characters must always remain comic except for the occasional moment when they are allowed to relapse into pathos.
Being essentially a purveyor of melodrama in novel form, and having therefore to work with unchangeable characters, Dickens is very little concerned with human psychology. His genius lay in the description of things seen. He was the greatest reporter that England has ever produced.
Of course, Dickens was himself a snob. As George Orwell pointed out, nothing in any of his novels is more convincing than his description in David Copperfield of his shame and humiliation at having to work in the blacking factory with Mick Walker and Mealy Potatoes. ... Yet nowhere in David Copperfield does he exhibit the slightest sympathy for Mick Walker and Mealy Potatoes. It never seems to have crossed his mind that they also were unfortunates, or that someone should be indignant on their behalf. His only feeling was one of acute self-pity at having been obliged to associate with them. This does not mean, of course, that he had no sympathy for the working classes. But he did not expect to live with them.
His snobbery was, however, the snobbery of the English commercial middle class -- a class which in DIckens's formative years had a pride all its own. It did not desire to ape the aristocracy, and nothing is more striking in Dickens's work than his general contempt for titles, office-holders, and almost any kind of uniform.
No one would dare suggest that Dickens could not portray the working classes. But, except in David Copperfield, nearly all his working-class characters are comic characters.
Dickens disliked trade unions in much the same way that he disliked the work-house, or the Circumlocution Office, or the House of Commons, or the Courts of Law. They were all of them great, or potentially great, organizations, and Dickens displays a marked bias against every form of organized institution. The only unit in which he is interested is the family. ... His favourite ending is a kind of enormous household re-union. Pickwick, Nicholas Nickleby, and Martin Chuzzlewit all conclude in much the same way, The virtuous characters settle down to a state of perpetual, unbroken domesticity.
As has been frequently remarked, there is an obvious lacuna in Dickens's social philosophy. He was passionately on the side of anyone who was weak or oppressed, and he succeeded in communicating his tremendous indignation to his contemporaries. He supplied the impetus which led to many of the reforms which marked the second half of the nineteenth century. The system of judicature was thoroughly overhauled. The Civil Service was established on a new foundation. ... Although Dickens was himself largely responsible for all these changes he never suggested the shape which they should take. To do so would necessarily have taken him into the sphere of politicians, civil servants, and judges, that is to say, of all those persons in official positions whom he so cordially disliked.
The lesson which Dickens persistently teaches -- and indeed it is almost the whole of his creed -- is the value of human kindness. Almost every happy ending in his novels is the result either of a change of heart or of the exercise of sheer philanthropy. Scrooge is changed overnight. Mr. Winkle, senior, relents at the appropriate moment and welcomes Arabella as his daughter-in-law. For no clearly apparent reason the kindly Mr. Brownlow takes Oliver Twist into his home. Nicholas Nickleby is saved from penury by his opportune meeting with the Cheeryble Brothers, who are philanthropists in the guise of employers. The sum total of happiness can only, it seems, be maintained by an unfailing supply of benevolent old gentlemen with ample means.
There is, I think, a still further explanation of Dickens's philosophy -- or lack of it. He lived in an age of melodrama. It is obvious that he was intensely interested in the stage, and indeed in every form of then existing entertainment. ... And nearly all his plots are essentially melodramatic. It has been remarked that his characters (always, of course, with the exception of the autobiographical David Copperfield) never develop. They are fully formed from the beginning. Now this is the essential characteristic of melodrama. The hero must be forever above reproach. The villain must be a monster of iniquity. The comic characters must always remain comic except for the occasional moment when they are allowed to relapse into pathos.
Being essentially a purveyor of melodrama in novel form, and having therefore to work with unchangeable characters, Dickens is very little concerned with human psychology. His genius lay in the description of things seen. He was the greatest reporter that England has ever produced.
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