DC, Chp. 04-06

[Kim]

Dear Curiosities,

Here we go with the second installment of David Copperfield which originally people had to wait a month for but happily we don't. Chapter 4 is titled "I Fall Into Disgrace" , David has now returned to a home that is very different and not very nice. We are now stuck with not only Mr. Murdstone, who has to be one of my least favorite people in the world of Dickens, and his just as wonderful sister, Jane.  He goes to his new bedroom and cries himself to sleep. I thought it odd that Dickens tells us David's mother and Peggotty come to look for him. They're looking for him? Where did they think he went? It would have made more sense to me if it would have said they came to comfort him. But they are not allowed to do that of course, you have to be firm, everyone knows that. The awful Mr. Murdstone finds them there and reprimands David’s mother for not being firm with her son of course. There was a part here that I found strange because it seemed to me that Mr. Murdstone and David's mother actually did seem to care about each other:

"He drew her to him, whispered in her ear, and kissed her. I knew as well, when I saw my mother's head lean down upon his shoulder, and her arm touch his neck—I knew as well that he could mould her pliant nature into any form he chose, as I know, now, that he did it.

'Go you below, my love,' said Mr. Murdstone. 'David and I will come down, together."

I guess there is someone out there for everyone. So I've been told anyway.Yes, poor David gets to spend a few minutes with the firm Murdstone.  He gets to hear a firm speach on Murdstone beating a obstinate horse or dog which makes me hate him even more, and I don't think that would work on a dog anyway, unless your goal is to make the dog hate you. I thought it was interesting when David would be "hiding out" from the rest of the world that he spent his time up in his room reading, which is exactly what I would have done when I wasn't plotting certain murders. But the books he read ! (I used the exclamation point just for certain grumps). I'm not sure I'll get them all but some of them were: Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, Humphry Clinker, Tom Jones, Gil Blas and The Arabian Nights. Dickens read them all before he was nine. I can't imagine understanding them before the age of nine. Oh, Robinson Crusoe just came to mind.

Soon Miss Jane Murdstone, Mr. Murdstone’s cruel sister, arrives to stay. I'm still trying to decide which one is more horrible. According to Dickens:

"a gloomy-looking lady she was; dark, like her brother, whom she greatly resembled in face and voice; and with very heavy eyebrows, nearly meeting over her large nose, as if, being disabled by the wrongs of her sex from wearing whiskers, she had carried them to that account."

I don't understand either of these people. Do they really enjoy being this horrible to other people or do they really think they are helping them become "firm", although why we have to be firm every minute of every day is beyond me. It's like between the two of them they try to think of ways to hurt other people.  David's mother can't help anymore in any household decision, Miss Murdstone now has the keys to everything and rules over everyone, but her brother I suppose.  So why did he marry her?  He doesn't seem to need her money, he seems slightly fond of her, but only when she is obeying his every command, it certainly isn't for the love of David.  At least Dombey had reasons for getting married.  But the Murdstones are just awful, and Mr. Murdstone's beating David for not knowing his lessons even though it is because of him and his sister that David can't learn is horrible.  He knows the reason David can't remember his lessons is because Murdstone and his sister are in the room, so why don't they leave?  Murdstone at that moment reminded me of Squeers. And when David bit him I was almost cheering. I'm glad David is being sent away, it almost has to be better than being with Murdstone and his sister.

[Kim]

Chaper 5 is titled "I am sent away from Home" and although David doesn't seem to want to leave his home I'm glad of the change. Good riddance to the Murdstones. In the beginning of the chapter as David rides away from home with the carrier, Mr. Barkis, Peggotty comes bursting through a hedge and climbs in the cart hugging David until she loses all her buttons. Every time Peggotty loses a button I wonder why she doesn't make or buy, I'm not sure which one she would do, an a bigger size dress, just one size up should do it. When David and Mr. Barkis continue on Mr. Barkis tells David to write to Peggotty and tell her "Barkis is willing" which David does although he has no idea what it means. I certainly hope she is willing, marrying Mr. Barkis would certainly be better than living with the Murdstones although I'm sure she wouldn't leave David's mother, unless she had no choice that is.

After a rather awful trip to London, during which all kinds of people are once again unkind to David, especially that awful waiter.  He leaves me wondering if he is like that to all his customers or only the ones who are all alone without anyone to help them.  I don't know if he's one of those characters put in to make us laugh, or if I ever found him amusing, but I started hating him long ago and couldn't wait to get David away from him and back on the road. He finally arrives and is taken by Mr. Mell, one of the masters to his new school, Salem House. On the way they stop so David can buy something to eat since after that waiter experience, he is rather hungry.  They take the food to a row of alms-houses, which had been established for twenty-five poor women.  To one of these houses they now go and on entering find two old women, one who calls Mr. Mell "My Charley" and another sitting by the fire, having one of her bad days.  Here the woman makes David's breakfast for him and Mr. Mell play his flute.  I loved the way Mr. Mell plays the flute as I've known people who play almost like him, different instruments though:

The Master, upon this, put his hand underneath the skirts of his coat, and brought out his flute in three pieces, which he screwed together, and began immediately to play. My impression is, after many years of consideration, that there never can have been anybody in the world who played worse. He made the most dismal sounds I have ever heard produced by any means, natural or artificial. I don't know what the tunes were—if there were such things in the performance at all, which I doubt—but the influence of the strain upon me was, first, to make me think of all my sorrows until I could hardly keep my tears back; then to take away my appetite; and lastly, to make me so sleepy that I couldn't keep my eyes open.

They continue on to the school where David finds he is the only one there, except servants for it is the school's holiday and all the boys have gone home.  He has been sent there during the holiday as part as his punishment.  He is also made to wear a sign on his back that reads "Take care of him. He bites." Because of this he dreads the day when all the boys will return to school.  For now it is only he and Mr. Mell to keep each other company.  This line made me curious about Mr. Mell:

"Mr. Mell never said much to me, but he was never harsh to me. I suppose we were company to each other, without talking. I forgot to mention that he would talk to himself sometimes, and grin, and clench his fist, and grind his teeth, and pull his hair in an unaccountable manner. But he had these peculiarities: and at first they frightened me, though I soon got used to them."

The exciting thing about this chapter is that I got to look things up. It seems that the school David attends is based on a real school that Dickens attended:

Dickens was sent to Wellington House Classical and Commercial Academy, run by the sadistic William Jones, who was the original for Mr. Creakle, and whose school was the inspiration for Salem House. Dickens's experiences prompted two other recollections of Wellington House: in his essay "Our School' he noted that Jones ("the Chief") had a penchant for ruling ciphering-books, and then "smiting the palms of offenders with the same diabolical instrument" (Household Words, October 1851); in a speech of 1857 he remarked that Jones was "by far the most ignorant man I have ever had the pleasure to know, who was one of the worst tempered men perhaps that ever lived, whose business it was to make as much out of us and put as little into us as possible". There were, however, positive aspects to Dickens's time at the school: he spoke well of the English teacher, Mr. Taylor, who had features in common with Mr. Mell, and the Latin master, who "took great pains when he saw intelligence and a desire to learn" (Household Words, October 1851). By the time Dickens left in 1827 he had won the Latin prize.

[Kim]

In Chapter 6 " I enlarge my Circle of Acquaintance" all the other students and the headmaster return to the school from their separate homes where they had been during the holiday-time. We meet Mr.Creakle who terrifies David and shows what type of character he is just by this:

'I have the happiness of knowing your father-in-law,' whispered Mr. Creakle, taking me by the ear; 'and a worthy man he is, and a man of a strong character. He knows me, and I know him. Do YOU know me? Hey?' said Mr. Creakle, pinching my ear with ferocious playfulness.

I wonder why so many people find it fun to terrorize little children?  The headmaster’s wife and daughter are quiet and thin women, and it seems that they sympathize with the boys. Apparently there was a son who dared to argue with his father over his cruel treatment of the students and of his mother. His father had thrown him out and Mrs. Creakle and her daughter are still "in a sad way ever since". David is worried about the boys returning because of the sign he must wear on his back. Tommy Traddles is the first boy to return from holiday and befriends David, which helps David befriend the other boys as they return. And that brings me to something else I got to look up. Tommy Traddles was based on a real person:

"Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd (1795-1854) — barrister, jurist, Member of Parliament for Reading, Berkshire), and playwright. Although the pair met in 1836 through the agency of novelist Harrison Ainsworth, their relationship was cemented by their common interest in the May 1837 draft of his copyright bill, which finally passed into law five years later. In his copyright suit against Peter Parley's Illuminated Library for its piracy of A Christmas Carol, Talfourd represented Dickens, who beat the pirate but found it was a mere Pyrrhic victory as Talfourd was unable to collect any damages from the bankrupt publishers.

Despite any substantive evidence to support the identification, it is universally recognized that the novelist based the character of Tommy Traddles on Talfourd, for whom Dickens published a laudatory obituary in Household Words on 25 March 1854. In Tommy Traddles Dickens did indicate something of the fine pathetic quality of his friend, Judge Talfourd. Although Dickens and Talfourd were not contemporaries or schoolmates as were David Copperfield and Tommy Traddles, in his personal diligence, gentle disposition, and journalistic output, Talfourd does indeed seem to resemble Traddles.

Talfourd held a place of some prominence in the legal, political, and literary world when Dickens became acquainted with him and, in 1837, dedicated to him the book publication of Pickwick. The dedication, wrote Dickens, was in tribute to Talfourd's important work in the matter of copyright legislation; it was also a token of Dickens's "fervent admiration" of Talfourd's fine qualities of head and heart, and "a memorial of the most gratifying friendship I have ever contracted." Dickens had no friend, wrote Forster, to whom he was more attached than he was to Talfourd. The association of the two men was frequent. Talfourd was vice-chairman at the Pickwick celebration dinner and took part also in celebrations commemorating the publication of other of Dickens's books."

One more thing, or maybe two, in the part of the chapter that we are told that Creakle had thrown his son out, after the line "Mrs. and Miss Creakle had been in a sad way, ever since" there was in the original manuscript this passage:

"I heard that Mr. Creakle, on account of certain religious opinions he held, was one of the Elect and Chosen - terms which certainly none of us understood in the least then if any body understands them now - and that the man with the wooden leg (whose name was Tungay) was another. I heard that the man with the wooden leg had preached (Traddles' father, according to Traddles, had positively heard him) and had frightened women into fits by raving about a Pit he said he saw, with I don't know how many billions and trillions of pretty babies born for no other purpose than to be cast into it. I heard that Mr. Creakle's son doubted the clear-sightedness of the man with the wooden leg and had once held some remonstrance with his father about the discipline of the school on an occasion of its being very cruelly exercized, and was supposed to have objected, besides, that the Elect had no business to ill-use his mother. I heard that Mr. Creakle had turned him out of doors in consequence, and that it had nearly broken Mrs. and Miss Creakle's hearts."

And finally, because of Traddles befriending him, things with the other boys go much smoother than David had thought it would.  And when Steerforth returned and took him under his wing, things for David were definately looking up.  I find the last paragraph to be important, we'll find out why later:

I thought of him very much after I went to bed, and raised myself, I recollect, to look at him where he lay in the moonlight, with his handsome face turned up, and his head reclining easily on his arm. He was a person of great power in my eyes; that was, of course, the reason of my mind running on him. No veiled future dimly glanced upon him in the moonbeams. There was no shadowy picture of his footsteps, in the garden that I dreamed of walking in all night.


Ok, I am off in search of illustrations, have fun discussing things. 

[Mary Lou]

First, Kim, it's been ages since I've read one of your summaries, and I've missed them! So good to hear your voice here again.

I take back all the excuses I made for Clara in that discussion about the cloying Jessie Wilcox Smith illustration. I don't care how young and naive she is, Clara should have never scolded David, and in such a self-centered way ("In my honeymoon, too"!) as she did at the beginning of chapter 4. High praise to Pegotty for standing up to Clara and Mr. Murdstone to the extent she was able.

I agree with you, Kim, about the books in David's library. Before starting DC I had some time and, knowing Dickens' fondness for the Tales of the Arabian Nights, I pulled it off the shelf to read a few. It was like reading a foreign language. Admittedly, I only attempted the first one, but I was lost, even reading it out loud. I can't find where David's age was finally revealed, but I believe it said he was 8 years old. Can you imagine any 8-year-old today reading on that level?

We've talked about the importance of being Keeper of Keys in several other Dickens novels. Keys signify a certain amount of status, power, freedom, etc. Clara turning over her keys to Jane is a significant moment.

Barkis comes along just in time to offer us some warmth after those horrible Murdstones. One of the few things I remember from my past readings of this novel is the line, "Barkis is willin'." What a delightfully understated romance! As to Pegotty popping her buttons, I imagine she, like so many women, won't buy the next largest size because she has every intention of losing those extra few pounds. Not that I'd know anything about that.....

The waiter at the inn was a jerk, surely, but I admit to enjoying that scene, and the crafty and friendly way he manipulated poor David. (Why didn't Peggoty or someone travel with David to make sure he got to school safely? I'd think Murdstone would have been happy to have her out of the house for a couple of days.) When we met Steerforth in Chapter 6, I couldn't help but compare him to the waiter. It gave me an ominous feeling. I'm not sure we can trust Steerforth's intentions.

What are we to make of Mrs. Fibbitson? This passage startled me a bit:

I have reason to know that she took its impressment into the service of boiling my egg and broiling my bacon, in dudgeon; for I saw her, with my own discomfited eyes, shake her fist at me once, when those culinary operations were going on, and no one else was looking.

I appreciated the way Dickens had David arrive at school during the vacation. It eased us into the new setting, and allowed us to meet the new cast of characters in a slower, more memorable way.

Thanks, Kim, for the research you included, as well. I wondered when we were going to get to the autobiographical bits, and it seems they're already making their way into the story, by way of Creakle and Traddles.

Can't wait to see this week's illustrations!

[[deleted user]]

Mary Lou wrote: "When we met Steerforth in Chapter 6, I couldn't help but compare him to the waiter. It gave me an ominous feeling. I'm not sure we can trust Steerforth's intentions."
I had the same feeling about Steerforth. He has a way of making David feel small in a friendly 'let me do this, since you cannot'-way. On the other hand, could the things he bought have helped with easing David into the group; they had a kind of brotherly feast, working around Creakle, because of it, and David learned a lot about the school's inhabitants that way.

I certainly disliked Clara the more in chapter 4, because she scolded David for being a kid and missing her affection. I mean, hey, you're the one marrying and then listening to that brute instead of taking care of your child lady, it's all your own fault! It does get more clear that David is just a burden for her. She loves him in a way, but not enough to care for him. Like one of those people who want a puppy, until they realise they have to train him not to pee in the house.

I had the impression, and Kim's added paragraph confirms it for me, that mr. Murdstone and his sister were some kind of religious fundies. A bit like Joseph in Wuthering Heights. It could explain why they were so bent on being firm and miserable and beating children into compliance. They also went to another church or had house meetings or such I believe?

[[deleted user]]

Mary Lou, I copied this from the other topic, because I don't want to steer into spoilering things there ;-)

Mary Lou wrote: "Reminds me of my visit to Graceland, which was lavish, but very tacky. Money doesn't always translate to good taste. This observation really does make me wonder what Murdstone saw in Clara. He wasn't getting a lot of money, especially with a stepson to support. And she didn't have any lineage to brag about. She has shown herself to be vain, and the comments of the other men show that she was considered to be physically appealing, and he must have thought she was easily controlled and would be suitable arm candy. What a skunk."

This would fit into the mold of Fundies too - for Murdstone it probably was extra important to have a woman being moldeable and obeying his wishes, and Clara was exactly that. A woman with a name or money or anything to bring into the marriage apart from good looks and meekness, probably wouldn't have listened and obeyed like Clara did. A wife who listens and obeys seems to have been his sole goal for marriage. David even gave him some extra leverage, because when Clara didn't obey he could hurt her son instead of her (beating a kid was way more socially accepted than beating your wife is my guess), and the other way around he could use her tears to hurt David into compliance too.

[Peter]

Mary Lou wrote: "First, Kim, it's been ages since I've read one of your summaries, and I've missed them! So good to hear your voice here again.

I take back all the excuses I made for Clara in that discussion abou..."

Mary Lou

I have never read, or even attempted to read the Tales of the Arabian Nights. You have saved me the effort. :-)

David constantly refers to Robinson Crusoe. Two people who feel alone and isolated in the world and yet realize that to survive they must use all their wits. I wonder if David will find his Friday?

[Peter]

Kim wrote: "In Chapter 6 " I enlarge my Circle of Acquaintance" all the other students and the headmaster return to the school from their separate homes where they had been during the holiday-time. We meet Mr...."

Hi Kim

Steerforth has a somewhat mesmerizing effect on David. Without Peggotty, young David must feel very alone being away from his home and her. Steerforth seems to feed - both literally and figuratively - off David. Could this mean anything? There does seem to be a respect, or is it fear that others have of Steerforth. Did anyone else feel any uneasiness when Steerforth asks if David has a sister? Steerforth’s comment that if David did have a sister he imagined she would have “been a pretty, timid, little, bright-eyed sort of girl. I should have liked to know her.” The last few sentences of a chapter in Dickens are often unsettling, and meant to tweak the reader’s interest for future chapters or instalments. Hmmm.

[[deleted user]]

I agree, the last few sentences in this particular chapter are quite unsettling. It almost reads as if David had fallen in love with Steerforth in a romantical way.

[Ulysse]

Interesting to read all your comments.

Mary Lou and Peter, don't give up on the idea of reading Arabian Nights! It is a wonderful book, a treasure trove of stories from the Middle-East, such an influence on countless authors, poets and thinkers, not the least of which wrote the book we are reading. Check out the Sir Richard Burton translation. It's the best one in English, IMHO.

Back to Copperfield. Chapter 4 was an intense reading experience. So dark and melancholy. Did you notice how the initial description of miss Murdstone as a metallic woman foreshadows David's imprisonment? She is like a walking prison. So great!

I found the keyhole scene with Peggotty to be extremely moving.

Reading these chapters we can easily see why David Copperfield was Freud's favorite novel. So much material to work with here. It is like a reader's manual of the Oedipus complex.

I agree with Peter and Jantine that there are slight homosexual undertones in the relationship between David and Steerforth. But hasn't that always been the case in all-boys boarding schools since the birth of that institution? Couldn't we also see in Steerforth, in stark contrast to Murdstone and Creakle, a positive father figure for David?

[[deleted user]]

Hm, yes, that's an option too.
After Murdstone and his sister being too strict, David did have to learn again that he is allowed to spend his spending-money too, and if Steerford had not spent it for him on things that brought them a feast - and David did seem to like this evening and the bonding with his peers it provided, while it also is a very good thing he finally bonds with peers instead of being with grown-ups, and bleak ones at that, all the time - David might have hoarded those coins.

It's been too long since I read DC, so I don't recollect a lot. But assuming things will turn out allright for our hero somehow, what if this hadn't happened, and his biggest financial influence remained his mother who had to work hard keeping her own books, let alone teaching her son financial prowess (even if she did okay, and I'm sure Peggotty helped her so she did), or the Murdstones who will probably be sitting on their money?

All in all I think money will be a motif in this book, like the sea was in D&S. After all, this novel is said to be the most autobiographical of Dickens' novels, and we all know how financial (in-)stability has formed his younger years. Seeing how Steerforth immediately takes over David's money, he is bound to have a big influence on David. But in what way is yet to be seen.

[Tristram]

Kim wrote: "But the books he read ! (I used the exclamation point just for certain grumps)."

Once again, you have me wondering whom you might be referring to, Kim!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Tristram]

As to the books, I have only read Tom Jones and Roderick Random, enjoying the first more than the latter, but I think that for a nine-year old they must be pretty hard to understand. I agree with Ulysse that The Arabian Nights in the translation by Richard Burton are quite a treat, especially the footnotes, but then again, there are lots of details in those tales I would not like my children to read about - probably, Dickens read a bowlderized version of the Nights, because there is quite some sex involved in some parts.

What I like, and can subscribe to, is the notion that you may find solace and relief in books when life treats you hard and unfair.

The Murdstones are a riddle, and I think that their description is influenced by David's perspective to a degree: We can, for instance, only guess as to their motivation for getting the whip-hand on Clara and her son. Miss Murdstone in her quality as an iron lady somewhat reeks of sadism to me, or of suppressed sexual desire. Why should she constantly be looking for a mysterious man she suspects the servants of hiding on the premises? All that iron about her, the chains and manacles - she is certainly a grotesque freak. Strangely, her constant admonitions to Clara to be firm reminded me of Mrs. Chick's obsession with people around her having to make an effort.

As she herself, her brother, too, is a textbook sadist, a psychopath who lust for power over other people - and that is why the Murdstones stay in the room, to purposely make David fail in his lessons and to have an excuse for abusing him, and through him, Clara. Even though David as a first-person narrator does not provide any explanation for the gross cruelty of Murdstone - and how could he, seeing it all through his traumatized childhood eyes -, Dickens cleverly offers a slight hint, when Mr. Murdstone says, prior to his chastisement of David, that he, too, was often beaten as a child and that it did no harm to him. No harm? How ironic - it has probably turned him into the crank he is. I also suspect that the Murdstones would not look half as intimidating to any person with a normal amount of self-confidence and independence.

I don't know if I can excuse David's mother for betraying her son to such an extent, but I have the feeling that Dickens shared this sense of parental betraying because his mother did not do anything about his having to work at Warrens Blacking when the father was imprisoned for debt. Some element of Dickens's own mother might possibly be in Clara Copperfield.

[Tristram]

Peter wrote: "Kim wrote: "In Chapter 6 " I enlarge my Circle of Acquaintance" all the other students and the headmaster return to the school from their separate homes where they had been during the holiday-time...."

Yes, Steerforth's question as to David having a sister and his reaction to David's answer surely made my hair stand on edge. There is something ghoulish in it.

[Peter]

Ulysse wrote: "Interesting to read all your comments.

Mary Lou and Peter, don't give up on the idea of reading Arabian Nights! It is a wonderful book, a treasure trove of stories from the Middle-East, such an i..."

Hi Ulysse

I really should take a run at the Arabian Nights. Thank you for the recommending the Burton translation. A good translator can make or break a book.

Yes. The metallic Murdstone. Great phrase and the image works perfectly. I recall that DC was Freud’s favourite Dickens. In my mind I very faintly recall that Freud gave his wife-to-be a copy of DC. Can anyone shed some light on my fading memory? Thanks.

[Peter]

Tristram wrote: "As to the books, I have only read Tom Jones and Roderick Random, enjoying the first more than the latter, but I think that for a nine-year old they must be pretty hard to understand. I agree with U..."

I agree with your comments on the Murdstone's. As a tag team they inject a great deal of tension and more than a bit of terror into the opening chapters. They represent something murky and evil that exists within some people. Their presence in this novel shows how much more complex Dickens’s writing and character creation has evolved. In earlier novels characters such as Squeers or a Quilp were more cartoonish. Now, characters like the Murdstone’s ooze believability to me.

[Kim]

Tristram wrote: "As to the books, I have only read Tom Jones and Roderick Random, enjoying the first more than the latter, but I think that for a nine-year old they must be pretty hard to understand. I agree with U..."

I read The Arabian Nights and remember almost nothing at all about it. Well, except some girl keeps telling stories to some guy to stay alive. I don't remember loving it, or hating it for that matter.

I forgot about Miss Murdstone trying to sneak up on mysterious men being hidden in closets. Why is she doing that? At least she's not tormenting David while she's chasing imaginary men around.

And as to Mr. Murdstone being beat when he was young, why is it when awful things happen to people they often do the same thing when they are adults, it makes no sense. If you are beat as a child wouldn't that teach you not to do that to a child you may have in the future? I don't get it. It's like saying "well my childhood was horrible so I'm going to make your's horrible too". It makes no sense to me.

[Kim]

I have been trying to imagine what the Murdstones did before Mr. Murdstone married David's mother. Do you think he and his sister lived together? If they didn't, where were they and why was it so easy for Miss Murdstone to drop whatever she may have been doing to come help abusing the Copperfields. Before he married, who did they torture by making firm?

[Tristram]

Kim wrote: "Tristram wrote: "As to the books, I have only read Tom Jones and Roderick Random, enjoying the first more than the latter, but I think that for a nine-year old they must be pretty hard to understan..."

Maybe, being beaten as a child made Murdstone experience feelings of helplessness, shame, inferiority and the like - and that is how he decided to become firm, to make himself a master of others when he was strong enough. In beating David, he might tell himself that it is for the boy's own good - after all, he might think, he was beaten, too, and it helped him become such a determined and superior character, a firm man, as he envisages himself - but in reality, he might just be enjoying the opportunity to vent his frustrations stemming from the treatment he received as a child on another child, who is defenseless and weak. Murdstone is nothing but a schoolyard bully, imposing but pathetic.

[Kim]

I wish Dombey and Son could meet David Copperfield, then we could marry Mr. Murdstone to Edith Granger and see what she does to him.

[Kim]

Thinking more on the evil Murdstone, I thought perhaps he would somehow manage to be pleasant when he is trying to win a woman, and his "firmness" comes out the minute the woman marries him. The problem I have with this idea is I have no hint that he may have actually managed to win over a woman before, firm or not.

[Kim]

OK, illustration time, let's see if I get them all:






"And when we came at last to the five thousand cheeses (canes he made it that day I remember), my mother burst out crying."

Chapter 4

Fred Barnard

1872 Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

‘Now, David,’ he said—and I saw that cast again as he said it—‘you must be far more careful today than usual.’ He gave the cane another poise, and another switch; and having finished his preparation of it, laid it down beside him, with an impressive look, and took up his book.

This was a good freshener to my presence of mind, as a beginning. I felt the words of my lessons slipping off, not one by one, or line by line, but by the entire page; I tried to lay hold of them; but they seemed, if I may so express it, to have put skates on, and to skim away from me with a smoothness there was no checking.

We began badly, and went on worse. I had come in with an idea of distinguishing myself rather, conceiving that I was very well prepared; but it turned out to be quite a mistake. Book after book was added to the heap of failures, Miss Murdstone being firmly watchful of us all the time. And when we came at last to the five thousand cheeses (canes he made it that day, I remember), my mother burst out crying.

‘Clara!’ said Miss Murdstone, in her warning voice.

‘I am not quite well, my dear Jane, I think,’ said my mother.

I saw him wink, solemnly, at his sister, as he rose and said, taking up the cane:

‘Why, Jane, we can hardly expect Clara to bear, with perfect firmness, the worry and torment that David has occasioned her today. That would be stoical. Clara is greatly strengthened and improved, but we can hardly expect so much from her. David, you and I will go upstairs, boy.’

As he took me out at the door, my mother ran towards us. Miss Murdstone said, ‘Clara! are you a perfect fool?’ and interfered. I saw my mother stop her ears then, and I heard her crying.

I really hate this guy. And his sister.

[Kim]

The Murdstones

Chapter 4

Sol Eytinge Jr.

1867 Diamond Edition

Commentary:

The subject of this second illustration is the parental figures in David's childhood: the cruel stepfather, Mr. Murdstone, his cold, unfeeling sister, Jane Murdstone, and David's well-meaning but weak-willed mother, Clara Copperfield. Although the grouping might suggest any one of a number of moments in the first-person, retrospective narrative, an interchange of the facing page may have been what the publisher hadin mind when inserting Eytinge's illustration:

"It's very hard," said my mother, "that in my own house —"

"My own house?" repeated Mr. Murdstone. "Clara!"

"Our own house, I mean," faltered my mother, evidently frightened, — "I hope you must know what I mean, Edward, — it's very hard that in your own hose I may not have a word to say about domestic matters." [Ch. 4]

[Kim]

"I saw to my amazement, Peggotty burst from a hedge and climb into the cart."

Chapter 5

Fred Barnard

1872 Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

We might have gone about half a mile, and my pocket-handkerchief was quite wet through, when the carrier stopped short. Looking out to ascertain for what, I saw, to My amazement, Peggotty burst from a hedge and climb into the cart. She took me in both her arms, and squeezed me to her stays until the pressure on my nose was extremely painful, though I never thought of that till afterwards when I found it very tender. Not a single word did Peggotty speak. Releasing one of her arms, she put it down in her pocket to the elbow, and brought out some paper bags of cakes which she crammed into my pockets, and a purse which she put into my hand, but not one word did she say. After another and a final squeeze with both arms, she got down from the cart and ran away; and, my belief is, and has always been, without a solitary button on her gown. I picked up one, of several that were rolling about, and treasured it as a keepsake for a long time.

[Kim]

Barkis Drives David to Yarmouth

Harold Copping

1924

Harold Copping's realistic style is perhaps a little unsuitable for depicting the enigmatic carrier, Mr. Barkis, as he drives David away from Blunderstone on the first leg of the boy's journey to London. The moment depicted occurs in installment two (chapter 5, "I Am Sent Away from Home"), June 1849.

[Kim]

Barkis is Willin'

Chapter 5

Wiliam Henry Charles Groome

[Kim]

My friendly waiter and I

Chapter 5

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

He brought me some chops, and vegetables, and took the covers off in such a bouncing manner that I was afraid I must have given him some offence. But he greatly relieved my mind by putting a chair for me at the table, and saying, very affably, ‘Now, six-foot! come on!’

I thanked him, and took my seat at the board; but found it extremely difficult to handle my knife and fork with anything like dexterity, or to avoid splashing myself with the gravy, while he was standing opposite, staring so hard, and making me blush in the most dreadful manner every time I caught his eye. After watching me into the second chop, he said:

‘There’s half a pint of ale for you. Will you have it now?’

I thanked him and said, ‘Yes.’ Upon which he poured it out of a jug into a large tumbler, and held it up against the light, and made it look beautiful.

‘My eye!’ he said. ‘It seems a good deal, don’t it?’

‘It does seem a good deal,’ I answered with a smile. For it was quite delightful to me, to find him so pleasant. He was a twinkling-eyed, pimple-faced man, with his hair standing upright all over his head; and as he stood with one arm a-kimbo, holding up the glass to the light with the other hand, he looked quite friendly.

‘There was a gentleman here, yesterday,’ he said—‘a stout gentleman, by the name of Topsawyer—perhaps you know him?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t think—’

‘In breeches and gaiters, broad-brimmed hat, grey coat, speckled choker,’ said the waiter.

‘No,’ I said bashfully, ‘I haven’t the pleasure—’

‘He came in here,’ said the waiter, looking at the light through the tumbler, ‘ordered a glass of this ale—WOULD order it—I told him not—drank it, and fell dead. It was too old for him. It oughtn’t to be drawn; that’s the fact.’

I was very much shocked to hear of this melancholy accident, and said I thought I had better have some water.

‘Why you see,’ said the waiter, still looking at the light through the tumbler, with one of his eyes shut up, ‘our people don’t like things being ordered and left. It offends ‘em. But I’ll drink it, if you like. I’m used to it, and use is everything. I don’t think it’ll hurt me, if I throw my head back, and take it off quick. Shall I?’

I replied that he would much oblige me by drinking it, if he thought he could do it safely, but by no means otherwise. When he did throw his head back, and take it off quick, I had a horrible fear, I confess, of seeing him meet the fate of the lamented Mr. Topsawyer, and fall lifeless on the carpet. But it didn’t hurt him. On the contrary, I thought he seemed the fresher for it.

[Kim]

David and the Friendly Waiter

Chapter 5

Harold Copping

1924

The scene chosen to those times in the protagonist's life when he deceived and manipulated or exploited by those who are apparently his friends, "David and The Friendly Waiter," occurs when David leaves his home in Blunderstone near Yarmouth for Salem House in London, an institution based upon Dickens's memories of Wellington House Academy. The moment realized occurs in instalment two (chapter 5, "I Am Sent Away from Home")

[Kim]

David and the Friendly Waiter

Chapter 5

Frank Reynolds

[Kim]

David and the Friendly Waiter

Chapter 5

F.M.B. Blaikie

Illustration for David Copperfield retold for children by Alice F Jackson 1920

[Kim]

The Friendly Waiter

Chapter 5

Thomas Archer

[Kim]

David Copperfield goes to school

Chapter 5

Fortunino Matania

Text Illustrated:

It was a little disconcerting to me, to find, when I was being helped up behind the coach, that I was supposed to have eaten all the dinner without any assistance. I discovered this, from overhearing the lady in the bow-window say to the guard, ‘Take care of that child, George, or he’ll burst!’ and from observing that the women-servants who were about the place came out to look and giggle at me as a young phenomenon. My unfortunate friend the waiter, who had quite recovered his spirits, did not appear to be disturbed by this, but joined in the general admiration without being at all confused. If I had any doubt of him, I suppose this half awakened it; but I am inclined to believe that with the simple confidence of a child, and the natural reliance of a child upon superior years (qualities I am very sorry any children should prematurely change for worldly wisdom), I had no serious mistrust of him on the whole, even then.

I never heard of this illustrator so I looked him up:

Chevalier Fortunino Matania (16 April 1881 – 8 February 1963) was an Italian artist noted for his realistic portrayal of World War I trench warfare and of a wide range of historical subjects.
Born in Naples, the son of artist Eduardo Matania, Fortunino Matania studied at his father's studio, designing a soap advertisement at the age of 9 and exhibiting his first work at Naples Academy at 11. By the age of 14 he was helping his father produce illustrations for books and magazines. His talent was recognised by the editor of the Italian periodical L'Illustrazione Italiania and Matania produced weekly illustrations for the magazine between 1895 and 1902.

At the age of 20, Matania began working in Paris for Illustration Francaise and, in 1902, was invited to London to cover the Coronation of Edward VII for The Graphic. Matania would subsequently cover every major event – marriage, christening, funeral and Coronation – of British royalty up to the coronation of Queen Elizabeth in 1953.

In 1904, Matania joined the staff of The Sphere where some of his most famous work was to appear, including his illustrations of the sinking of the Titanic in 1912. Around 1906 to 1910 he painted the life in the lobby of the Hotel Excelsior in Rome.

At the outbreak of the First World War, Matania became a war artist and was acclaimed for his graphic and realistic images of trench warfare. His painting for the Blue Cross entitled Goodbye, Old Man, showing a British soldier saying farewell to his dying horse, is a fine example of his emotive work. His painting of the Green Howards including Henry Tandey is a central part of a famous story.

But it was after the war, when he switched to scenes of ancient high life for the British woman's magazine, Britannia and Eve, that Matania found his real career. He filled his London studio with reproductions of Roman furniture, pored over history books for suitably lively subjects. Then, with the help of models and statues, he began to paint such subjects as Samson & Delilah, the bacchanalian roisters of ancient Rome, and even early American Indian maidens—all with the same careful respect for accuracy and detail he had used in his news assignments.

Generally he managed to include one or two voluptuous nudes in each picture. "The public demanded it," says Matania. "If there was no nude, then the editor or I would get a shower of letters from readers asking politely why not." He was a standard in Britannia and Eve for 19 years.

Matania exhibited regularly at the Royal Academy and Royal Institute of Painters in Water Colours, in 1917 he was elected a member of the latter. From 1908 and his work appearing in most of the principal magazines in Britain and America, including Illustrated London News, London Magazine, Nash's, Printer's Pie and others. When Britannia and Eve was launched in 1929, Matania became one of its first contributors. For 19 years, he wrote and illustrated historical stories for the magazine. His talents made him a popular illustrator for advertising, posters and catalogues, working for the LMS (designing posters for Southport and Blackpool), Ovaltine, Burberry's (the sporting outfitters) and many others. Matania was also recommented to Hollywood director Cecil B. DeMille and produced a number of paintings of Rome and Egypt from which authentic designs could be made for the movie The Ten Commandments. In 1933, Matania applied his very realistic style to illustrations for Edgar Rice Burroughs' "Pirates of Venus" and in 1933–24 to Burrough's "Lost on Venus."

Towards the end of his life, Matania illustrated features for the educational weekly Look and Learn and was working on the series A Pageant of Kings at the time of his death.

[Kim]

Still nobody appeared to claim the youngester

Chapter 5

Albert Jnr. Ludovci

Postcard, early 20th century

Text Illustrated:

The guard’s eye lighted on me as he was getting down, and he said at the booking-office door:

‘Is there anybody here for a yoongster booked in the name of Murdstone, from Bloonderstone, Sooffolk, to be left till called for?’

Nobody answered.

‘Try Copperfield, if you please, sir,’ said I, looking helplessly down.

‘Is there anybody here for a yoongster, booked in the name of Murdstone, from Bloonderstone, Sooffolk, but owning to the name of Copperfield, to be left till called for?’ said the guard. ‘Come! IS there anybody?’

No. There was nobody. I looked anxiously around; but the inquiry made no impression on any of the bystanders, if I except a man in gaiters, with one eye, who suggested that they had better put a brass collar round my neck, and tie me up in the stable.

A ladder was brought, and I got down after the lady, who was like a haystack: not daring to stir, until her basket was removed. The coach was clear of passengers by that time, the luggage was very soon cleared out, the horses had been taken out before the luggage, and now the coach itself was wheeled and backed off by some hostlers, out of the way. Still, nobody appeared, to claim the dusty youngster from Blunderstone, Suffolk.

More solitary than Robinson Crusoe, who had nobody to look at him and see that he was solitary, I went into the booking-office, and, by invitation of the clerk on duty, passed behind the counter, and sat down on the scale at which they weighed the luggage. Here, as I sat looking at the parcels, packages, and books, and inhaling the smell of stables (ever since associated with that morning), a procession of most tremendous considerations began to march through my mind. Supposing nobody should ever fetch me, how long would they consent to keep me there? Would they keep me long enough to spend seven shillings? Should I sleep at night in one of those wooden bins, with the other luggage, and wash myself at the pump in the yard in the morning; or should I be turned out every night, and expected to come again to be left till called for, when the office opened next day? Supposing there was no mistake in the case, and Mr. Murdstone had devised this plan to get rid of me, what should I do? If they allowed me to remain there until my seven shillings were spent, I couldn’t hope to remain there when I began to starve. That would obviously be inconvenient and unpleasant to the customers, besides entailing on the Blue Whatever-it-was, the risk of funeral expenses. If I started off at once, and tried to walk back home, how could I ever find my way, how could I ever hope to walk so far, how could I make sure of anyone but Peggotty, even if I got back? If I found out the nearest proper authorities, and offered myself to go for a soldier, or a sailor, I was such a little fellow that it was most likely they wouldn’t take me in. These thoughts, and a hundred other such thoughts, turned me burning hot, and made me giddy with apprehension and dismay. I was in the height of my fever when a man entered and whispered to the clerk, who presently slanted me off the scale, and pushed me over to him, as if I were weighed, bought, delivered, and paid for.

[Kim]

My Musical Breakfast

Chapter 5

Phiz

Commentary:

The second illustration for the second monthly number, containing chapters 4, 5, and 6, again realizes a moment from the fifth chapter. Again, (as in all the previous plates featuring the child-protagonist) David is seated as he observes an apparently benevolent adult male— however, as Dickens continues to explore the limitations of the child's retrospective point of view, unlike the "Friendly Waiter" of the previous illustration, the Salem House master, Mr. Mell, is sincere in his ministrations. As in the letterpress accompanying the initial illustration, "Our Pew at Church," David is drowsing, thereby escaping his present circumstances. The boy, having arrived in London by coach, has been met by Mr. Mell, one of the masters at his new school, Salem House [Dickens's own Wellington House Academy, thinly disguised], who takes the boy for breakfast at his mother's. The illustration captures the moment when, after preparing and serving the boy a generous breakfast, Mrs. Mell requests that her son play his instrument:

"Have you got your flute with you?"

"Yes," he returned.

"Have a blow at it," said the old woman, coaxingly. "Do!"

The Master, upon this, put his hand underneath the skirts of his coat, and brought out his flute in three pieces, which he screwed together, and began immediately to play. My irnpression is, after many years of consideration, that there never can have been anybody in the world who played worse. He made the most dismal sounds I have ever heard produced by any means, natural or artificial. I don't know what the tunes were—if there were such things in the performance at all, which I doubt—but the influence of the strain upon me was, first, to make me think of alI my sorrows until I could hardly keep my tears back; then to take away my appetite; and lastly, to make me so sleepy that I couldn't keep my eyes open. They begin to close again, and I begin to nod, as the recollection rises fresh upon me. Once more the little room, with its open corner cupboard, and its square-backed chairs, and its angular little staircase leading to the room above, and its three peacock's feathers displayed over the mantelpiece—I remember wondering when I first went in what that peacock would have thought if he had known what his finery was doomed to come to— fades from before me, and I nod, and sleep. The flute becomes inaudible, the wheels of the coach are heard instead, and I am on my journey. The coach jolts, I wake with a start, and the flute has come back again, and the Master at Salem House is sitting with his legs crossed, playing it dolefully, while the old woman of the house looks on delighted. She fades in her turn, and he fades, and all fades, and there is no flute, no Master, no Salem House, no David Copperfield, no anything but heavy sleep.

Phiz has had no difficulty in capturing every textual detail of the scene, including the curmudgeonly elder, Mrs. Fibbitson, a pile of rags warming herself before the fire, and has even extended the letterpress in conveying Mrs. Mell's obvious delight with her son's playing and pride in his having become a school master. However, the illustrator cannot convey the decrepit senior's "unmelodious laugh" or her antipathy towards the child who has suddenly seized her companion's attention. But, most of all, Phiz has been unable to capture the effect of the shift in tense from perfect to present, through which the writer signals the shift from the real to the dream world of the young narrator. The sunny, cheerful little room is hardly how one might imagine a paper's residence, one of a series of alms-houses that David has learned by reading the inscription above the arch have been established for twenty-five "poor women." Little does the viewer-reader realize at this point that being in possession of this knowledge of Mr. Mell's personal background will precipitate the event depicted in the ensuing illustration.

[Kim]

Everybody that came to the house of a morning read that he was to be taken care of, as he bit.

Chapter 5

F.M.B. Blaikie

Illustration for David Copperfield retold for children by Alice Jackson 1920

Text Illustrated:

What I suffered from that placard, nobody can imagine. Whether it was possible for people to see me or not, I always fancied that somebody was reading it. It was no relief to turn round and find nobody; for wherever my back was, there I imagined somebody always to be. That cruel man with the wooden leg aggravated my sufferings. He was in authority; and if he ever saw me leaning against a tree, or a wall, or the house, he roared out from his lodge door in a stupendous voice, ‘Hallo, you sir! You Copperfield! Show that badge conspicuous, or I’ll report you!’ The playground was a bare gravelled yard, open to all the back of the house and the offices; and I knew that the servants read it, and the butcher read it, and the baker read it; that everybody, in a word, who came backwards and forwards to the house, of a morning when I was ordered to walk there, read that I was to be taken care of, for I bit, I recollect that I positively began to have a dread of myself, as a kind of wild boy who did bite.

[Kim]

"He knows me, and I know him. Do you know me? Hey? said Mr. Creakle, pinching my ear with ferocious playfulness.

Chapter 6

Fred Barnard

1872 Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

‘So!’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘This is the young gentleman whose teeth are to be filed! Turn him round.’

The wooden-legged man turned me about so as to exhibit the placard; and having afforded time for a full survey of it, turned me about again, with my face to Mr. Creakle, and posted himself at Mr. Creakle’s side. Mr. Creakle’s face was fiery, and his eyes were small, and deep in his head; he had thick veins in his forehead, a little nose, and a large chin. He was bald on the top of his head; and had some thin wet-looking hair that was just turning grey, brushed across each temple, so that the two sides interlaced on his forehead. But the circumstance about him which impressed me most, was, that he had no voice, but spoke in a whisper. The exertion this cost him, or the consciousness of talking in that feeble way, made his angry face so much more angry, and his thick veins so much thicker, when he spoke, that I am not surprised, on looking back, at this peculiarity striking me as his chief one. ‘Now,’ said Mr. Creakle. ‘What’s the report of this boy?’

‘There’s nothing against him yet,’ returned the man with the wooden leg. ‘There has been no opportunity.’

I thought Mr. Creakle was disappointed. I thought Mrs. and Miss Creakle (at whom I now glanced for the first time, and who were, both, thin and quiet) were not disappointed.

‘Come here, sir!’ said Mr. Creakle, beckoning to me.

‘Come here!’ said the man with the wooden leg, repeating the gesture.

‘I have the happiness of knowing your father-in-law,’ whispered Mr. Creakle, taking me by the ear; ‘and a worthy man he is, and a man of a strong character. He knows me, and I know him. Do YOU know me? Hey?’ said Mr. Creakle, pinching my ear with ferocious playfulness.

‘Not yet, sir,’ I said, flinching with the pain.

‘Not yet? Hey?’ repeated Mr. Creakle. ‘But you will soon. Hey?’

‘You will soon. Hey?’ repeated the man with the wooden leg. I afterwards found that he generally acted, with his strong voice, as Mr. Creakle’s interpreter to the boys.

I was very much frightened, and said, I hoped so, if he pleased. I felt, all this while, as if my ear were blazing; he pinched it so hard.

‘I’ll tell you what I am,’ whispered Mr. Creakle, letting it go at last, with a screw at parting that brought the water into my eyes. ‘I’m a Tartar.’

‘A Tartar,’ said the man with the wooden leg.

‘When I say I’ll do a thing, I do it,’ said Mr. Creakle; ‘and when I say I will have a thing done, I will have it done.’

[[deleted user]]

Thank you, Kim!

I think it's quite telling that the picture of the Murdstones and Clara could be anywhere in the chapters they were in. It also shows how the power is placed in that household: Murdstone is standing upright, then miss Murdstone is sitting upright, and Clara is practically cowering before them.

[Peter]

Kim wrote: "

David Copperfield goes to school

Chapter 5

Fortunino Matania

Text Illustrated:

It was a little disconcerting to me, to find, when I was being helped up behind the coach, that I was supposed t..."

Kim

Thank you for the detailed information on Fortunino Matania. What an interesting and broad-based life he led. His placement of David in the middle of the illustration and his diminutive height compared to the adults who all look at him created a very interesting composition.

[Peter]

Kim wrote: "

My friendly waiter and I

Chapter 5

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

He brought me some chops, and vegetables, and took the covers off in such a bouncing manner that I was afraid I must have given him s..."

The placement of the world map above David’s head is a perfect way to suggest that David is beginning his journey into the world.

[Peter]

Jantine wrote: "Thank you, Kim!

I think it's quite telling that the picture of the Murdstones and Clara could be anywhere in the chapters they were in. It also shows how the power is placed in that household: Mur..."

Jantine

I absolutely agree with you. The placement and the relative height of the characters clearly suggests the alignment of power in the house.

[Kim]

Peter wrote: I recall that DC was Freud’s favourite Dickens. In my mind I very faintly recall that Freud gave his wife-to-be a copy of DC. Can anyone shed some light on my fading memory? Thanks.

Peter, I didn't see this until now. Here you go:

Freud read and admired Dickens; his first gift to his fiancée, in 1882, was a copy of David Copperfield. Freud had attempted to create in his fiancee, Martha Bemays, an idealised Dora-like double of his mother. In an accompanying letter to Benays, Freud wrote that of all Dickens's books, Copperfield included the least stereotypical characters, because they were “individualized” and “sinful without being abominable.” Dickens's tragedy captivated Freud, and the loneliness that seeps from its pages was spellbinding to the neurologist. 

[Peter]

Kim wrote: "Peter wrote: I recall that DC was Freud’s favourite Dickens. In my mind I very faintly recall that Freud gave his wife-to-be a copy of DC. Can anyone shed some light on my fading memory? Thanks.

P..."

Kim

Thank you. My mind is at rest since it knows some of it is still working. :-)

[Tristram]

Kim wrote: "I wish Dombey and Son could meet David Copperfield, then we could marry Mr. Murdstone to Edith Granger and see what she does to him."

A splendid idea! Mr. Murdstone would probably have turned into a lapdog. Why not marry his sister to Mr. Dombey?

[Tristram]

Peter wrote: "Kim wrote: "

David Copperfield goes to school

Chapter 5

Fortunino Matania

Text Illustrated:

It was a little disconcerting to me, to find, when I was being helped up behind the coach, that I wa..."

You are voicing my thoughts to a T here, Peter: That picture actually made me breathless because it made me aware of how David must have felt. Imagine a young boy who has hardly ever left his narrow domestic sphere and who now has to undertake such a long journey to a destination he does not know - and that, all on his own. The utter isolation!

[Tristram]

Kim wrote: "Thinking more on the evil Murdstone, I thought perhaps he would somehow manage to be pleasant when he is trying to win a woman, and his "firmness" comes out the minute the woman marries him. The pr..."

Oh, I think that Mr. Murdstone does know how to charm a woman and that he can be very fascinating and captivating to an artless woman. It is not his real nature, though, and he is just using this image of himself in order to spin his web around his victim: In fact, in Mr. Murdstone Dickens has given us the model of a scheming psychopath.

[Kim]

Keys, key holes, locked doors, chains, this place is a prison. Obviously for David since we find him locked in a room, but for his mother who must stay where they want, do what they want, say what they want, and her house has become his. Peggotty, for it seems now she is locked away from everything but the kitchen, but even for the Murdstones who must lock away any good, kind feelings they may once have had to bring out the firmness and nothing but firmness.

[Kim]

In just a few chapters David has gone from the relative harmony of life with his widowed mother and Peggotty to the wonderful days in Mr. Peggotty's boathouse and then back to a gloomy and foreboding home where his mother is now totally controlled by Murdstone. Then he is off to school where David, while ashamed of the sign on his back, finds what I hope will be another family when he meets his new schoolmates. Steerforth's taking all of David's money does turn out to be a good thing when it ends up being a shared feast so I'm hoping David will now be part of a group of caring people, students anyway, I'm not so sure about the adults. I can't believe I'm saying this, but school has to be better than home right now.

[[deleted user]]

Kim, thanks to your post I now realize what we did see here.
What happened in school - Steerforth taking all of the money, and buying what the family of school boys need to be the comfortable, sharing family might be a kind of ... not sure if I use the term right ... allegory. Of course, in a marriage, the husband takes all of the wife's money. He is supposed to spend it wisely to support the family, feed them and bring them closer to each other, like Steerforth did with David's money. It contrasts heavily with how Murdstone takes all of Clara's money and uses his power not to support and connect the family, but to tear it apart. So in a way David also gets a lesson of what marriage and the power inequality that is so normal in a Victorian household should be like.

[Mary Lou]

So many interesting observations.

First, Ulysse, I'll definitely look at my library for a better translation of Arabian Nights. Another version can't help but be superior to the one I own.

I love that Kim found some new artists for this week's scenes. Nice to see some different perspectives. All but Archer portrayed the waiter as being much older than I imagined him to be. I was picturing someone maybe 18 or 19 years old. These illustrations show middle-aged men. Which would make the waiter's treatment of David all the more cruel, it seems to me.

Like you, Kim, I don't understand the cycle of violence. I guess it has to do with those who are bullied wanting to have the upper hand for a change. But it seems counter-intuitive to me, too.

Have any of you seen the movie, "Giant" with Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, and James Dean? It was based on a book by Edna Ferber, but I haven't read that, so I must just refer to the movie. In it, Elizabeth Taylor marries Rock Hudson and he brings her back to the ranch he shares with his gruff, spinster sister in Texas. There's a bit of a power struggle as Liz tries to politely take her place as the lady of the house. Unlike Clara, though, Liz has a backbone and manages to put the sister in her place. The Benedicts remind me a lot of the Murdstones, but Rock is much nicer than Mr. Murdstone is (does he have a first name?). Elizabeth Taylor didn't bring a son into the marriage, but if I remember correctly, there was a reminiscent scene with the treatment of a horse. And Murdstone tells David how he gets horses and dogs to do what he wants. I wonder if Ferber was a Dickens fan?

Jantine - I like the dichotomy you pointed out with David's money caring for his "new family" while Murdstone is not at all caring about his. It does make me wonder if Steerforth had been smart enough to see how that would make David feel immediately welcomed. But Steerforth still makes me feel a bit creepy, so I don't think I'll give him the benefit of the doubt just yet.

Finally, the text from Ch. 5 under the Barnard illustration :

Peggotty burst from a hedge ... squeezed me to her stays ...she crammed into my pockets...After another and a final squeeze with both arms... without a solitary button on her gown.

Everything Peggoty does is bigger than life. Refreshingly, nothing "little" or "dainty" about her. If my knowledge of future novels didn't prove me wrong, I'd wonder if Dickens was finally learning that being petite and pretty, like Clara, didn't necessarily make the ideal woman. Alas, Lucie Manette and others dispel that hope. But I love that Peggoty bursts through the hedge in the same way that she bursts through the buttons on her dress. :-)

[Ashley]

The narrator is still recalling childhood memories. How reliable are they? The Murdstones are pretty terrible. Is any of that exaggeration from a child’s poor of view? Pretty hard to justify their actions even if they are not as extreme as presented, but I wonder. And also, does it matter if their actions are exaggerated because their impact was obviously terrible.

Also the way David presents his acceptance of Steerforth and others makes me wonder if he sees his naivety. He must looking back, so does that make him more trustworthy that he doesn’t change the situation to make himself look better? He just tells it like it was and let’s himself look naive.