Oliver Twist: Chapters 44 - 53

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Kathleen said: "Jean, your summary was beautifully written. I can imagine it was difficult! And the background is fascinating--about the bridge but even more, about the ultimate sacrifice Dickens made, a sacrifice similar to Nancy's."

Thank you Kathleen! And the post about Charles Dickens's obsession; how he was consumed by the thoughts of the characters he had created was equally difficult emotionally to write. Observers of his performances at the time said Charles Dickens mesmerised" his audience, with a "hypnotic" performance. Now where have we heard those words before ...

Sue - and others whose memories are being challenged by this - I think the story outline has seeped into the collective memory, but very much watered down and changed. When we read the original text of Oliver Twist it still comes across as deeply shocking, and almost unbearably tragic in places.

Bridget - 🤗

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

You know the phrase which I can't get out of my mind? “It is you, Bill!” said the girl, with an expression of pleasure at his return."

Moving on now, but the emotional tension does not let up for an instant ...

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Chapter 48:

“The flight of Sikes”

“Of all bad deeds that, under cover of the darkness, had been committed within wide London’s bounds since night hung over it, that was the worst. Of all the horrors that rose with an ill scent upon the morning air, that was the foulest and most cruel.”

The glare of the morning sun streams into the room with the murdered woman, and Sikes desperately tries to shut it out. He is haunted by the eyes of the dead woman, and throws a rug over the body, but can still see it in his imagination, and “the reflection of the pool of gore that quivered and danced in the sunlight on the ceiling.”

Sikes burns the murder weapon and then washes himself, but there are spots of blood that he cannot remove from his shirt and so he cuts those bloodied pieces out from his clothes and burns those pieces too. He feels he will never get rid of the blood: “The very feet of the dog were bloody.” Finally Sikes backs out of the room, dragging the dog with him, and softly locks the door. He looks back at the window:

“God, how the sun poured down upon the very spot!”



"He moved, backwards, towards the door: dragging the dog with him." — James Mahoney 1871

Finally Sikes escapes from the room and wanders aimlessly around North London: Islington, Highgate Hill, and Hampstead Heath: “wandering up and down in fields, and lying on ditches’ brinks to rest”, sometimes retracing his steps.

“Where could he go, that was near and not too public, to get some meat and drink? Hendon. That was a good place, not far off, and out of most people’s way.”

But people look at him suspiciously, so he continues on. That evening he stops for a meal in a village pub in Hatfield. Bill Sikes feels safe and has almost dropped asleep, when he is startled by the noisy entrance of a newcomer. This is a peddler keen to demonstate his wares.



"The antic fellow​ and Sikes" - Frederic W. Pailthorpe 1886

The peddlar grabs Bill Sikes’s hat with the bloodstain, to prove how good his stain remover is:



"The Flight of Sikes after the Murder" - Harry Furniss 1910

In a panic, Bill Sikes grabs it back angrily and bursts out of the inn.

Sikes flees from the inn only to come upon the mail coach from London standing in front of a little post-office. He overhears people talking about the “dreadful murder” of a woman there. The more Sikes tries to run, the more he is haunted by his actions:

“these fears were nothing compared to the sense that haunted him of that morning’s ghastly figure following at his heels. He could trace its shadow in the gloom, supply the smallest item of the outline, and note how stiff and solemn it seemed to stalk along…

If he stopped it did the same. If he ran, it followed—not running too: that would have been a relief: but like a corpse endowed with the mere machinery of life, and borne on one slow melancholy wind that never rose or fell…

He had kept it before him that morning, but it was behind now—always.“

The figure seems relentless; neverthless Sikes tries—unsuccesfully—to sleep in a shed, and hears shouting in the distance:

“The broad sky seemed on fire”; there is a fire in the stables of a farm. In a frenzy, Sikes dashes towards the fire: “leaping gate and fence as madly as his dog, who careered with loud and sounding bark before him”. Once surrounded by the throng, Sikes joins the crowd of people fighting the fire. He enters the burning building and throws himself into the firefighting, seemingly immune to the flames. We are told that within the fire Sikes “bore a charmed life”.

After working among the fire fighters all night, the fire has died down, leaving only smoke and blackened ruin. Sikes takes food with some of the others, and hears a rumour that the murderer has fled to Birmingham. He then decides that no one will think of looking for him in London. So he heads back to lie low at Fagin’s den.

As he walks along the road back to London, he begins to realise that he might be recognised, because of having a dog with him. Sikes resolves to kill his dog Bullseye by first hitting it on the head with a stone and then drowning it.



"Sikes attempting to destroy his dog" - George Cruikshank 1839

Sikes calls the dog to him but the dog seems to sense something is amiss, and: “skulked a little farther in the rear than usual, and cowered as he came more slowly along”. When Sikes then makes a running noose, and stoops to attach the handkerchief to his throat, Bullseye does not approach further, but growls and runs away as fast as he can.

Bill Sikes waits, but the dog does not return.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

And a little more ...

Locations

Hampstead is quite a wealthy area, and still has a huge area of heath (Hampstead Heath) which we can imagine Bill Sikes wandering in, unobserved. Highgate is also well-to-do, and what struck me about this immediately is that there is a very old and world famous cemetery there, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Highgat...

with many graves of writers, artists, scientists, inventors and people of note such as Fanny Dickens, Charles’s talented musical older sister (and even Karl Marx!) It is a place you can wander in for hours, so again I can imagine Bill Sikes skulking around there.

Hendon is now an urban area in the Borough of Barnet, North West London. It is 7 miles North West of Charing Cross (and 15 miles West of me!) Hatfield is an old town in Hertfordshire (23 miles North West of me!) These were small villages when Charles Dickens wrote the novel, and still have a villagey feel to some extent.

We can see why Bill Sikes decides he might be better off trying to hide in the busy metropolis.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Bullseye the dog

Sikes desperately tries to conceal his identity and realises that he can only avoid capture if he no longer has the dog with him. As modern readers we feel sorry for the dog, but all along Bullseye has been portrayed as being as vicious as Sikes; a sort of mirror image of his master. In terms of the novel, Bullseye is an extension of Sikes, and Bill Sikes’s decision to kill him can be seen as an unconscious desire to commit suicide. Sikes cannot get away from his own guilt, and the phantom presence which is always with him.

Like Sikes, in this scene Bullseye evades capture and “execution”. I can’t help hoping though, that Bullseye has run a long way off!

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

The Psychological Element

Sikes and the bloody clothes, with the spot he could not remove reminded me of Lady Macbeth’s “Out damned spot; out, I say!” (view spoiler)[ after the murder of King Duncan (hide spoiler)] and also ”yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? I think the reference to Macbeth by William Shakespeare must be deliberate, as both perpetrators are obsessed with guilt for their crimes.

Gothic Elements

After the murder, Bill Sikes, who is so skilled at creating fear in others, becomes frightened himself. His crime colours the whole world around him, and he vividly imagines Nancy as a ghostly figure following him wherever he goes. Charles Dickens describes his experience of Nancy’s ghost in hair-raising sensory language:

“He could trace its shadow in the gloom, supply the smallest item of the outline, and note how stiff and solemn it seemed to stalk along. He could hear its garments rustling in the leaves, and every breath of wind came laden with that last low cry.”

For him there is no escape from his crime. Bill starts walking north, and believes that Nancy’s corpse is following him. The writing of this is superb, detailed and lengthy. Charles Dickens details all his wanderings, reflecting the confused state of his mind. Sikes is both haunted and hunted.

Is something following Bill Sikes, or is is all imagination, and created by his conscience?

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Dickens’s Obsession

The post I wrote yesterday about how Charles Dickens was obsessed with recreating the scene of Nancy’s death in performance, in the final year of his life, is relevant here too. As well as “Sikes and Nancy”, Charles Dickens also wrote himself a script for “Sikes’s Flight”, and we can almost imagine the horror of that recreation, every other day or so, as Charles Dickens imagined himself pursued from beyond the grave. No wonder that he wandered through the streets on his own for hours, after each performance.

What hellish thoughts must have consumed him, as he felt he was living the part of Bill Sikes; in his mind Charles Dickens became the monster he had created.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

When you have recovered, over to you!

[Chris]

Shirley wrote: I agree with you, Sara. Charlotte has not been a victim in this story. She was cruel to Oliver, and as you say, she stole money from the Sowerberrys, and she showed no remorse for it. Charlotte has no moral compass, and I cannot see her changing her ways. Her character is totally different from Nancy, who has exhibited strength, compassion, loyalty and integrity. It's hard to feel sorry for Charlotte.

Well said and I am in agreement with you!!

[Chris]

Chap 47. Well, I knew this horrible outcome for Nancy was coming. This was my big crying scene as Bet in the musical. I didn't know that it wasn't on the steps of the bridge but in Nancy & Bill's room. Their home, for however humble, a place most view as a sanctuary.
I loved all the comments on the religious symbolism, it gives a glimmer of beauty in an otherwise horrible and brutal scene.

[Claudia]

He... It is a way of depersonalisation.
Sikes has committed an awful murder in an awful way, the narrative voice does not call him by his name any longer (there are perhaps a few exceptions, I didn't reread this otherwise perfect chapter).

He is fleeing - just like Cain after having murdered Abel. In Victor Hugo's poem La Conscience (in: La Légende des Siècles, 1859), published later, Cain fleeing from God sees an eye everywhere, by day and night, till he is buried, but "the eye was in the tomb and was watching Cain".

Run, Bulleye, run!
Dogs are definitely someone in literature. We see some excellent dogs later - Karateev's dog in War and Peace, and Balak in Jerusalem (Tmol Shilshom by SJ Agnon) who speaks seventy languages (i.e. many languages).

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Claudia wrote: "He... It is a way of depersonalisation.
Sikes has committed an awful murder in an awful way, the narrative voice does not call him by his name any longer ..."

Nice, Claudia!

Charles Dickens loved dogs, and had many himself. We can tell how he studied them by his accuracy about details of their behaviour. What is surprising throughout Oliver Twist, is that he never makes any points about Bullseye's (or "the dog")'s welfare. The narrator observes but does not judge, and always sees the dog as an extension and reflection of Sikes himself. The dog often mirrors - and in this chapter reveals - what Sikes is feeling, just as much as he responds to Sikes himself.

[Kathleen]

How interesting, Claudia and Jean. So Dickens is depersonalizing Bullseye too in a way, maybe, for his involvement with Sikes' and his deeds.

Well I'm of the "there are no bad dogs" theory, so like many of you probably, I breathed a big sigh of relief when Bullseye got away!

I just love what Dickens did with the light. Beyond a religious reference, it is a universal idea that we all see played out every day, the way the sun shines on both good and evil. I loved this line, when Sikes looks back up at the window where: God, how the sun poured down upon the very spot!" Such a moving scene.

[Shirley (stampartiste)]

Chapter 47: Fatal Consequences

I had to take some time to absorb this chapter and think things through. It was not what I was expecting!

Jean, thank you for a wonderful summary of this chapter and for the additional information on Dickens performing this scene time and time again before live audiences. The emotions of this scene are so raw, I can’t imagine how much that took out of him to make this real for his avid readers.

I agree with so much that others have said, and like Sue, I knew nothing of Oliver Twist before reading it with this group. Therefore, I did not expect my investment in a character to shift from Oliver to Nancy. For me, this story was more about her than it was about Oliver. Nancy seemed more real to me, and I had become more emotionally involved with how her life would turn out than I have been about Oliver’s. Maybe that’s because Dickens involved us in her day-to-day struggles more, and we could relate more to choices we make as adults. It truly grieved me to have Nancy die, and to have died in such a horrible manner. I will admit to having cried throughout this chapter.

This was such a character-driven chapter! I was appalled at the rage and hatred that filled Fagin’s heart. He was no more the pseudo-caring “my dear” personality he used to keep control over his waifs. That he could devise such a cruel end for Nancy, without even hearing her side of the story, tells me all I need to know about Fagin - one of the cruelest, most despicable characters in literature. As for Sikes, his passionate rage did not surprise me in the least - he never got out of character. I just could not see how Nancy could have loved this man (and yes, she did suffer from Stockholm Syndrome - but where did that start? Unfortunately, we will never know now.)

I loved what Michael said in his post (message 89): “Nancy holding up the handkerchief pleading for divine mercy and forgiveness has to be one of the greatest scenes in Victorian literature.”. It immediately reminded me of the thief on the cross who begged Jesus to remember him when he came into his Kingdom; and the Lord answered him “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” I wonder if Dickens had this in mind when he wrote that Nancy “breathed one prayer for mercy to her Maker.” And it makes me wonder what else did Bill Sikes see when he realized that the prostrate figure of Nancy was “a ghastly figure to look upon” and Sikes, “staggering backward to the wall, and shutting out the sight with his hand, seized a heavy club and struck her down.”

[Bridget]

Claudia wrote: "He... It is a way of depersonalisation.
.."

great observation, Claudia. I noticed too Nancy is never referred to my name. She's "a woman", "a corpse", "a moan and motion of the hand". And most chillingly as "it": "he threw a rug over it", "it lay nearly there".

The writing in this, and the last chapter is superb. Some of the best Dickens work I've read so far. In the poetic sentence "through costly-colored glass and paper-mended window, through cathedral dome and rotten crevice, it shed it's equal ray" I hear echoes of Dickens other works to come: "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times".

It was cathartic to read about the terror griping Sikes after the violence of the last chapter. While I feel for Bullseye, and I'm glad he ran off, I have no remorse for Sikes. He gets what he deserves and Dickens dishes it up so well.

I loved the fire scene. We had Sikes in his own private, haunted hell and in real life a hellish scene erupts around him. As Jean pointed out he walks through the fire unscathed, perhaps indicating he belongs in that environment.

[Sara]

I also thought of the fire as a symbolic "hellfire". That he comes through it unscathed to continue the tortures of the haunting, just reinforced the image of burning in hell forever, suffering the fire that never extinguishes itself. For me, it says, Sikes will never be free of his enormous sin, either here on earth or beyond the grave.

As the previous chapter made me gasp, this chapter made me weary. I felt the hurting pads of the dog's feet and the restlessness of Sikes wanderings. There is no rest for him anywhere anymore. That he thinks of returning to the very scene of the crime is almost as if Nancy is haunting him back to see that what he has done is inescapable.

The poor dog seems to me to be, like Nancy, under the control of this madman against his will. I hope, unlike Nancy, he has severed the bond in time.

Jean- your summaries of these two chapters are superb. And, thank you for the cemetery information, which gives me a true feel of the irony of the places to which Sikes wanders.

Claudia- great catch regarding the namelessness.

[Claudia]

I agree with you Sara on the fire! Great symbol!

He has nowhere to go. He seems to be walking in concentric circles and the scene of his crime is attracting him like a magnet.

[Chris]

The use of "it" to refer to Nancy's corpse was SO creepy to me, but I knew Sikes was trying to distance himself from the murder. I was somewhat surprised at his reaction to the result of his actions. I assume he had never killed before & he let his emotions of fear and betrayal overcome him and let his rage loose through his only known outlet- violence. Yet would he be so haunted by this act if he hadn't cared somewhat for Nancy? I wonder. The effort to wash (or cut ) away any evidence of his heinous crime: self-preservation & guilt.
BTW he is referred to Sikes once in the chapter when he responds to the peddler taking away his hat.
Once again reading this with people who can see so much more in the narrative than I is enlightening. I had wondered why Sikes hurried to help with the putting out of the fire. Distraction?Expunging of guilt by good works? A death wish? Moving through hell, was an "aha" moment for me.
As with everyone else I was happy to see Bullseye run away. I can see Jean's explanation of Bullseye as an extension of Sikes personality, but I also remember times when he cowered and hid from Sikes when his mood was especially black, that he kept coming back even after abuse. These actions reminded me of Nancy. Someone caught up and bound to an individual that they appeared to be dependent on for their lives and a little affection. When the choice came to stay or go, Nancy gave in to her human need for connection, Bullseye went with his animal instinct of danger.

[Sara]

Chris wrote: "These actions reminded me of Nancy. Someone caught up and bound to an individual that they appeared to be dependent on for their lives and a little affection. When the choice came to stay or go, Nancy gave in to her human need for connection, Bullseye went with his animal instinct of danger."

That is how I see him as well, Chris, as an animal corollary to Nancy.

[Kathleen]

Chapter 47

I’m having a hard time moving on from this chapter. It is too graphic and painful. I did not want to read all of the comments yesterday when the pain was very fresh.

We expected something bad to happen to Oliver again, but not this terrible outcome for Nancy.

I thought that the beginning paragraphs were beautifully written by a masterful author. They are a great contrast to the very awkward first paragraphs of Chapter 17.

I suppose I must put my big girl glasses on and read Chapter 48 now.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Chris wrote: "I also remember times when he cowered and hid from Sikes when his mood was especially black, that he kept coming back even after abuse ...."

It's so clever, isn't it? Because Sikes too cowers now, at the thought of what he has done, and at the spectre which haunts him. Bullyseye is a dog, and returns to his abusive master. Sikes too is returning to what and where he knows.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Kathleen wrote: "I suppose I must put my big girl glasses on and read Chapter 48 now ..."

Stay strong Kathleen! It won't be nearly as violent, but takes an emotional toll nevertheless.

Tomorrow's chapter (49) is completely different again! Then two days without a new chapter, but plenty to take in and talk about 😊

[Lee]

Bionic Jean wrote: Chapter 46:

“A mist hung over the river, deepening the red glare of the fires that burnt upon the small craft moored off the different wharfs, and rendering dark..."

What an artistic and moving summary you write here, Jean! And the photos are incredible. Then you continue with another ominous quote:

Nancy looks into the dark waters of the Thames, and think of other as desperate as she, who throw themselves in to end their life. She says:

“It may be years hence, or it may be only months, but I shall come to that at last.”

[Petra]

I also needed a day to come to grips with Nancy's end. That was painful, heartbreaking and crushing. I was devastated.

Today's chapter reminded me of the scene in the musical, Jesus Christ Superstar, where Judas realizes what he's done and his guilt causes him anguish and remorse. ......not that Sikes feels remorse so much as fear, anguish and haunting, but the feel of the scenes are the same (to me).

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Lee G wrote: "What an artistic and moving summary you write here, Jean! And the photos are incredible ..."

Thank you so much, Lee! Each time we do a group read I always intend to use summaries from the internet, and just "impove" them a bit by adding short pertinent quotations. I credit a site at the beginning. But every single time I've got impatient with them after a couple of chapters, and written my own 😂! This installment has been particularly difficult though, as Charles Dickens's words are so powerful ... how could I possibly convey that?

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Petra - I am surprised where Charles Dickens put his chapter breaks for installment 21. Like others, I wanted a break after chapter 47 with Nancy's murder - and again after chapter 48 with Bill Sikes's torment. But instead we plough straight on with the most convoluted chapter in the book! Here it is ...

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Chapter 49:

Mr. Brownlow, accompanied by two other men, bring Monks to Mr. Brownlow’s house, and usher him inside. At first Monks complains of being kidnapped, but Mr. Brownlow makes it clear to him that he knows enough about Monks to pass him over to the law to deal with, and if that happens, he will not be responsible for the consequences. Monks is now a lot less certain, and we learn most of the missing parts of the story through Mr. Brownlow telling Monks what he already knew, and also what he has recently discovered.

When the two men are alone, Monks says:

“This is a pretty treatment, sir … from my father’s oldest friend.”

We learn that Monks, whose real name is Edward Leeford, is the son of Mr. Brownlow’s long-dead friend. Mr. Brownlow’s friend had been ordered to marry a woman who was at least 10 years older than him. The marriage was unhappy from the start, and the two would eventually part—but not before having a son—Edward Leeford (Monks).

Monks is very sullen throughout this lecture, but Mr. Brownlow tells him to attend to what he says:

“You have a brother, … the whisper of whose name in your ear when I came behind you in the street, was, in itself, almost enough to make you accompany me hither, in wonder and alarm.”

But Monks insists he has no brother: “You know I was an only child. Why do you talk to me of brothers? You know that, as well as I.”

Mr. Brownlow continues about Monks’s parents' marriage:

“ … indifference gave place to dislike, dislike to hate, and hate to loathing, until at last they wrenched the clanking bond asunder, and retiring a wide space apart, hid [the fact of their marriage] in new society beneath the gayest looks they could assume. Your mother succeeded; she forgot it soon. But it rusted and cankered at your father’s heart for years.”

This all happened fifteen years ago, when Monks was not more than eleven years old, and his father 31: “for he was, I repeat, a boy, when his father ordered him to marry.

Monks’s mother was “wholly given up to continental frivolities, [and had] utterly forgotten the young husband ten good years her junior, who, with prospects blighted, lingered on at home.”

Some years after the separation Monks’s father made new friends with a recently widowed naval officer, and his two daughters. By the end of the year Monks’s father had fallen in love with the naval officer’s elder daughter, Agnes, who was 19. They planned to marry.

In the meantime, one of the relations who had benefited from Monks's father’s marriage, and thereby made his life so miserable, was very ill in Rome. He wanted to: “repair the misery he had been instrumental in occasioning, [and] left him his panacea for all griefs—Money.” Monks’s father then had to go to to Rome to sort out his dying relative’s affairs, which were left in a confused state.

Monks’s mother was living in Paris, but as soon as she heard that the rich relative was dying, she rushed to Rome. The old man had died the day after her arrival, as Mr. Brownlow says: “leaving no will—no will—so that the whole property fell to her and you.”

Monks has begun to listen very closely. Mr. Brownlow now tells him something Monks says he did not know; that his father had left a portrait he had painted himself of his beloved Agnes in Mr. Brownlow’s care, while he went to Rome to claim the fortune that was his inheritance:

“He was worn by anxiety and remorse almost to a shadow; talked in a wild, distracted way, of ruin and dishonour worked by himself; confided to me his intention to convert his whole property, at any loss, into money, and, having settled on his wife and you a portion of his recent acquisition, to fly the country.”

He had also promised to write to his friend to tell him more, as Mr. Brownlow had guessed there must be a “guilty love”, but soon after that, while in Rome, Monks’s father himself became ill and died. No letter came, and his estranged wife settled the few bills and did a moonlight flit. Mr. Brownlow knows she must have destroyed his will, so that all his money passed to her and Monks. But he was determined that he would care for the child who would be born.

“When your brother: a feeble, ragged, neglected child: was cast in my way by a stronger hand than chance, and rescued by me from a life of vice and infamy—”

This part of the story shocks Monks, who apparently had not known that it was Mr. Brownlow who had rescued Oliver when he was caught at the booksellers, (when the Artful Dodger and Charley Bates had run off after their pickpocketing). While Oliver was recovering from his sickness, Mr. Brownlow saw the similarity to the portrait, and recognised a familiar expression in Oliver’s face.

The last Mr. Brownlow had heard of Monks, he was on his own estate in the West Indies—where he had gone after his mother’s death—to escape any consequences of his life in England. But he was supposed to have returned to London in secret, and taken the name of “Monks”:

“keeping to all appearance the same low haunts and mingling with the same infamous herd who had been your associates when a fierce ungovernable boy.”

Monks challenges him, saying that it is all supposition, and he has no proof. However Mr. Brownlow say that during the past fortnight he has gained proof. He quotes to him the very words Monks had said to Fagin:

“the only proofs of the boy’s identity lie at the bottom of the river, and the old hag that received them from the mother is rotting in her coffin”

and gives a passionate speech about Monks’s evil ways, which overwhelms him. Monks swears that he knew nothing about the murder, which Mr. Brownlow says he was “morally if not really a party”. The narrator says Monks is now showing himself as the coward he always has been. He acquiesces to everything Mr. Brownlow wants: to make a sworn statement of his devious behaviour before witnesses, and make restitution to Oliver: “an innocent and unoffending child, for such he is, although the offspring of a guilty and most miserable love.” Then he may go free.

“Monks was pacing up and down, meditating with dark and evil looks on this proposal and the possibilities of evading it: torn by his fears on the one hand and his hatred on the other”

when Dr. Losberne bursts in to tell them that both Sikes and Fagin have been traced separately, and will be arrested that evening. Harry Maylie has gone on horseback to where it is expected to happen.

Mr. Brownlow gets Monks’s final agreement, and locks him in the room to wait until he gets back. He tells Dr. Losberne everything that has transpired, and asks him to arrange a meeting for 7pm, the evening after the next day, to allow them all time to rest, especially Rose Maylie, as:

“My blood boils to avenge this poor murdered creature.”

Mr. Brownlow will take a hackney-coach straight to the police station, and Dr. Losberne will remain behind.



"Oliver and His Mother's Portrait" - Harry Furniss 1910

(retrospective from chapter 12)


This is the end of installment 21

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Phew! No wonder Monks complained that it was a long tale!

Victorian readers expected a novel to be wrapped up tidily, and Charles Dickens never disappointed them. The last five chapters of Oliver Twist explain everything. In this chapter, Charles Dickens has explained many of the mysteries, including that of Oliver’s identity. But it is certainly complicated, and I have tried to distill the gist of it in my summary, which therefore had to be quite long 🙄

Once again there is no illustration for this chapter, which is really just a catalogue of events. But I have included an illustration which I held back earlier, because of its spoilerish title! It seems to fit the action now, as Mr. Brownlow was talking about it to Monks. I kept the name “Monks” for this summary - as does Charles Dickens himself: “Monks (to retain his assumed designation)” - in order to be more straightforward, although we do now know Monks’s birth name to be Edward Leeson.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Writing Style

Partly what has made the previous two chapters so difficult for us to read, is the close psychological studies we have had; first of Nancy who is so heartwarming and moral, but trapped by circumstances and also Bill Sikes, whom we read yesterday was plagued by his own feelings of guilt. We see that Charles Dickens has made even one of the worst villains have a conscience, or at least written him to be able to suffer the terror he instilled in others. Although it is an ominiscient narrator in chapter 48, Charles Dickens wrote the entire chapter from Sikes’s point of view.

In today’s chapter 49, however, we get no sense of Monks as a person, and never really have done. We see his emotional reactions, and can tell throughout that he is articulate and clever, but we have no empathy for Monks because Charles Dickens does not try to engage our feelings, or write him that way.

Sometimes when I read Oliver Twist, I worry that Charles Dickens has made the villains so very vivid, so that we believe in them, and see their motivations, but his good characters are a bit thin. Even leaving aside Oliver, who as I’ve often said, has another literary function, Mr. Brownlow, Rose Maylie and so on are not nearly as fleshed out. Charles Dickens simply does not spend much time on them.

However ...

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Coded Messages: Nature v. Nurture

The exception to the fully rounded evil characters is Monks, who often has seemed merely to be a lurking presence, rather than a real person. Even here, only rudimentary attention is given to him. It disturbs me that because of Charles Dickens’s views on the question of nature versus nurture, an obvious implication is that Monks is innately evil, because his parents were mismatched, and he is the result. By this theory, Oliver is innately virtuous because his parents loved one another and his mother was good and selfless.

This is par for the course in moralistic Victorian novels, and Charles Dickens’s readers would lap this up. They believed (as discussed before) that children’s disabilities such as blindless or deafness were the result of some sin of the parents, and hid these children away as a source of shame. Some religions today also teach this. Therefore Oliver Twist partly keys into that view: Monks is innately immoral because his parents did not love one another and his mother, who had destroyed her dead husband’s will, was greedy and selfish.

However, reading closely, I was heartened to notice this passage in Mr. Brownlow’s diatribe:

“you, who from your cradle were gall and bitterness to your own father’s heart, and in whom all evil passions, vice, and profligacy, festered, till they found a vent in a hideous disease, which had made your face an index even to your mind”.

This very probably means that Monks had syphilis. Open sores on the face were common in those with syphilis, and although seizures were less common, they could be a symptom too. Perhaps Monks's fits are not epilepsy as a result of his relatives' greed (and subsequenty his parents' sins), but a disease he has brought on himself.

I like this interpretation, which confirms for me that Monks’s evil is through his own responsibility, and not just as an end product of the old relative’s greed for money. It is Monks’s own devious and degenerate behaviour, the “plots and wiles … associating with thieves and murderers in dark rooms at night”. Syphilis is yet another “judgement” on him.

Just to add, this doesn't mean I don't think Monks has epilepsy - the text earlier indicates he may well do! The National Epilepsy Society here think he may have a type called Complex Partial Epilepsy.

But Mr. Brownlow's observations seem to incate that it is not just epilepsy, but syphilis, and it is this which I think Charles Dickens uses as part of his character. He is not buying into the Victorian belief that physical afflictions are because of the parents' sins, but showing us that Monk's own various evil and immoral actions have consequences.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

The Slave Trade

Again, nothing is quite as it seemed.

You may remember that back in chapter 32, we learned of Mr. Brownlow (and Mr. Grimwig)’s extended trip to the West Indies. At the time, this looked as if it might be to do with his investments. The slave trade had been banned in Britain in 1807, but in 1838—the very year these chapters were published—slavery was banned in British colonies such as Jamaica, and the economic holdings sharply declined.

Now we see that it was Monks (Edward Leeford) and his mother who were attending to their investments in the West Indies, and Mr. Brownlow was not there on his own behalf, but following on their trail! (So we can breathe a sigh of relief that Oliver’s kind benefactor does not have known dealings in the slave trade.)

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

This ends installment 21. We now have a break of 2 days to digest (and recover from!) these 3 chapters, and will read chapter 50—a long one which comprises the whole of installment 22—on Sunday.

[Claudia]

You distilled very well the gist of this circonvoluted tale, Jean! Plus there is substantial background information to help take the best advantage of this already substantial chapter!

Those circonvolutions are an apt conclusion of many mysteries: the portrait at Mr Brownlow's, Monk's obsession with Oliver, the locket and ring thrown into the water, Mr Brownlow's apparently sudden travel to the West Indies...

But they also prefigure future circonvoluted tales, e.g. Mrs Clennam's story in Little Dorrit.

[Michael]

Dickens delivers, one of his famous spiderweb of connections between many of the characters. Was this the first one? I feel I need to draw a type of graphic, analogous to a family tree, to keep track of these connections.
When I was reading this my mind went to Charlotte Bronte's "Jane Eyre" published in 1847. I am going to use the spoiler hidden text feature:

(view spoiler)[Did Bronte take this story and transplanted it to "Jane Eyre"? As with Mr. Leeford, Edward Fairfax Rochester is forced to marry a wealthy woman from the West Indies. The marriage is a disaster. The blame is assigned to the immorality of the women. Both men mentally suffer from the circumstances they find themselves. Are Dickens and Bronte assigning a cause of this degeneracy due to both women coming from families made rich off slave labor? Both Mr. Leeford and Mr. Rochester fall in love with a good moral woman. As with Mr. Leeford, Mr. Rochester almost commits an act of bigamy trying to marry the virtuous Jane Eyre. (hide spoiler)]

Interesting how Dickens has transformed Mr. Brownlow from at first a mild-mannered bookish gentleman to a dogged pursuer of justice, who will go to the ends of the earth for those he loves and cares for.

[Shirley (stampartiste)]

Bridget wrote: "I loved the fire scene. We had Sikes in his own private, haunted hell and in real life a hellish scene erupts around him. As Jean pointed out he walks through the fire unscathed, perhaps indicating he belongs in that environment..."

Sara write: "I also thought of the fire as a symbolic "hellfire". That he comes through it unscathed to continue the tortures of the haunting, just reinforced the image of burning in hell forever, suffering the fire that never extinguishes itself. For me, it says, Sikes will never be free of his enormous sin, either here on earth or beyond the grave...

I missed this symbolism, but I'm sure Dickens had to be thinking of hellfire, as you both mention. If anyone deserved the eternal fires of hell with no possibility of parole, that person is Sikes!

[Shirley (stampartiste)]

Michael wrote: "Dickens delivers, one of his famous spiderweb of connections between many of the characters. Was this the first one? ..."

I love everything you said, Michael, and the points you made regarding the correlation of the characters in Oliver Twist and Jane Eyre and the possible moral connection to the slave trade.

You did have me chuckling at "I feel like I need to draw a type of graphic, analogous to a family tree, to keep track of these connections.". This was a convoluted chapter!

[Shirley (stampartiste)]

Bionic Jean wrote: "Coded Messages: Nature v. Nurture

This very probably means that Monks had syphilis... Perhaps Monks's fits are not epilepy as a result of his parent's sins, but a disease he has brought on himself..."

I never thought of syphilis, Jean, but that makes sense. And it would also be in keeping with the debased lifestyle Monks chose for himself.

[Kathleen]

Jean, I can't thank you enough for your excellent summary and sorting the connections out so clearly! And I love that Furniss illustration--it's like she's watching out for him.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Kathleen wrote: "Jean, I can't thank you enough for your excellent summary and sorting the connections out so clearly! And I love that Furniss illustration--it's like she's watching out for him."

Yes! A guardian angel, whose role has been taken over variously by Nancy and then Rose. Some critics call them the "three sisters" of the novel; from different classes and experiences, but linked by their love for Oliver 😊

Another interesting aspect of the portrait is that Oliver was not only drawn to the portrait itself, but tried to recreate his mother's face in the pattern of the wallpaper, when it was not there. This links into the mesmeric interpretation again.

I'll freely admit that sorting out all the details of the story told in this chapter was not easy! I suspect that most readers go through this part quite quickly, and take a certain amount on trust. (I know that I have done previously.) If you try to tell it to someone else, then you realise you haven't taken in the complete picture ... but it is all there! I'm sure if Oliver Twist had not had such a chequered history, Charles Dickens would have been able to put in more hints and revelations earlier, rather than unveiling this all at once!

Thank you Kathleen, and Claudia too. Yes, each novel he wrote has a complicated back story, including Mrs. Clennam's story in Little Dorrit, but because they were partly in his mind as he was writing, none is as convoluted as this one. Some critics argue that it is too artificial; a clumsy construction, overlaying the piece to bring the ends together.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Yes Michael, Charlotte Brontë was influenced by Charles Dickens, and he admired her novel Jane Eyre - but disliked the main character herself.

Did you find the essay about handkerchiefs I mentioned? If not I'll try to find time to cover it in the next few days 😊

[Lori]

Wow! Many thanks to you Jean, for dissecting this story for us. It was a lot to take in and digest. I almost feel a bit let down that Monks is going to get off so easy though. I do actually love the redemption that Mr. Brownlow is giving to Monks for doing the right thing in regards to Oliver. These last 3 chapters have been gut wrenching and heartbreaking as well as informative. I am guessing now that Monks scars that Brownlow recognized are from his disease. Sad that Monks, will most likely live out his life in bondage to the syphilis that wi ll continue to disfigure him and no cure.

I adore that Furniss illustration! So dreamy and Oliver looks so safe and content.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Lori wrote: "Wow! Many thanks to you Jean, for dissecting this story for us. It was a lot to take in and digest. I almost feel a bit let down that Monks is going to get off so easy though ..."

You're welcome Lori 😊

Ah, I know what you mean, but as you also say "Monks will most likely live out his life in bondage to the syphilis that will continue to disfigure him", and this is surely his punishment. I think Monks is an unhappy, lonely, selfish and embittered soul. He is only 26, and will not live to be an old man, because of his advanced syphilis. He'll also increasingly be ostracised by society, as he won't be able to hide it. So I think Charles Dickens has not let him off that easily, but has made Monks the agent of his own unhappiness.

[Sara]

I had the same reaction...that Monks was getting off too easy...but you guys have convinced me that he is, in fact, going to pay after all.

Jean, thank you for the syphilis designation, I was wondering what disease this might be, and that makes such perfect sense. He will be the end of his line; Oliver will be the one who carries the genes, and perhaps the name, forward.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

I also love the thought that even though Oliver was the product of a "guilty secret", he is an innocent child, with a good heart. He is not paying for his parents' sins either, because he was born out of genuine love.

[Sue]

Does anyone worry that Monk might try to escape, might dive out a window, despite Mr. Brownlow’s promise to call in the law if he does? I wonder if he might chance it, being alone in the locked room.

[Shirley (stampartiste)]

Bionic Jean wrote: "I'll freely admit that sorting out all the details of the story told in this chapter was not easy!..."

Like everyone here, Jean, I can't thank you enough for providing so much information on a daily basis throughout our reading of Oliver Twist, but most especially the last three chapters. Emotionally, I couldn't have separated myself enough from the story to write as clearly and in-depth as you did.

Chapter 49 is indeed convoluted, and I appreciate everything you did to clarify all the relationships and all the actions for us. I am also grateful to Dickens for tying everyone's story so neatly together. This chapter made me appreciate Mr. Brownlow so much more. What a gentleman and a friend.

I love your inclusion of Furniss's illustration of Oliver asleep beneath his mother's portrait and your mentioning the fact that critics call his mother, Nancy and Rose the three sisters of the novel, watching over Oliver.

[Shirley (stampartiste)]

Sue wrote: "Does anyone worry that Monk might try to escape, might dive out a window, despite Mr. Brownlow’s promise to call in the law if he does? I wonder if he might chance it, being alone in the locked room."

I thought the same thing, Sue... that Monks would somehow manage to escape. Maybe this is why Dickens chose to end the installment here, so that we readers could worry about that.

[Bridget]

Shirley (stampartiste) wrote: "I thought the same thing, Sue... that Monks would somehow manage to escape. Maybe this is why Dickens chose to end the installment here, so that we readers could worry about that..."

Oh, I bet you are right about that, Shirley. It certainly worked on me. I'm with you and Sue worrying that Monks will escape.

Well done, Jean with an excellent summary for this confusing chapter. I found it extremely helpful, thank you.

I was also glad you mentioned the flatness of some of the characters "Even leaving aside Oliver, who as I’ve often said, has another literary function, Mr. Brownlow, Rose Maylie and so on are not nearly as fleshed out" because I had been feeling that too, and I wasn't sure I was thinking straight about those characters (particularly Rose Maylie). We got a bit more flesh on Mr. Brownlow in this chapter - which was a nice surprise. He's quite keen on bringing Nancy's tormentors to justice. That was a nice touch, I thought.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Installment 22

Chapter 50:

The narrator tells us that there is an area in the southeast of London, by the river Thames at Rotherhithe in Southwark, called Jacob’s Island, which is:

“the filthiest, the strangest, the most extraordinary of the many localities that are hidden in London, wholly unknown, even by name, to the great mass of its inhabitants.”

Thirty or forty years before, it had been a thriving place; but now it is a desolate island. Both the close-built low-roofed houses and the vessels on the river are are filthy with dust and smoke. Anyone who lives there:

“must have powerful motives for a secret residence, or be reduced to a destitute condition indeed, [to] seek a refuge in Jacob’s Island, [where] tottering house-fronts project over the pavement, dismantled walls seem to totter as he passes, chimneys half crushed half hesitating to fall, windows guarded by rusty iron bars that time and dirt have almost eaten away, every imaginable sign of desolation and neglect.”

In the middle of the dockland area is an inlet from the Thames, where a sluice operates when the tide is in. This is Folly Ditch, the worst part of all, where crazy wooden galleries link the backs of half a dozen houses, and all the decayed and rickety wooden buildings are slowly falling down into the Thames:

“dirt-besmeared walls and decaying foundations; every repulsive lineament of poverty, every loathsome indication of filth, rot, and garbage; all these ornament the banks of Folly Ditch.”



Folly Ditch and Jacob's Island - watercolour 1860

In an upstairs room of one of these hovels, three men are sitting sunk in gloom. They are Tom Chitling, Toby Crackit and their associate Kags, an old robber who is a returned transport. The two younger men are not pleased to see him.

Toby Crackit is keen to hear the latest news about the gang from Tom Chitling. He tells them that both Fagin and Bolter (Noah Claypole) have been arrested. Bet went to identify Nancy’s body, and became so crazy with grief that she had to be put in a straight-jacket. She has now been locked away in a mental hospital. The others in the gang except Charley Bates have been taken as well, and the police are lying in wait at the gang’s usual haunts.

Tom says he saw Fagin taken away, covered in blood and surrounded by police, who were defending him from onlookers, “snarling with their teeth and making at him; I can … hear the cries with which the women worked themselves into … and swore they’d tear his heart out!”

He expects Bolter to testify against Fagin and speculates that Fagin will hang within the week as “an accomplice [to murder] before the fact”.

At that moment Bull’s-eye jumps in through the window, very much the worse for wear. They are relieved to see that Bill Sikes isn’t with him. But after a few hours, Sikes arrives, too:

“Blanched face, sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, beard of three days’ growth, wasted flesh, short thick breath; it was the very ghost of Sikes.”

Sikes wants to know if he can lie low there until it is safe. Grudgingly, Toby says he can stay, and that they won’t turn him in. Bill Sikes seems constantly on edge. Glancing over his shoulder he wants to know if Nancy’s body is buried, and thinks he hears knocking. Then Charley Bates arrives and when he sees Sikes, says: “Don’t come near me … You monster.”

Charley Bates calls him a murderer, says he will turn him in, and, shouting for help, attacks the larger man. Bill Sikes and Charley Bates begin to fight, and Sikes has his knee on Bates’s throat when a crowd of angry voices is heard outside:

““Help!” shrieked the boy in a voice that rent the air. “He’s here! Break down the door!”
“In the King’s name,” cried the voices without.”

An angry search party led by a man on a horse try to enter the front of the house, and Sikes locks the “screeching Hell-babe” away, and demands a rope, so that he can climb on to the roof, and get away by climbing down the back to Folly ditch.



"And creeping over the tiles, looked over the low parapet." — James Mahoney 1871

The infuriated throng of hundreds in the mob outside the gang’s hideout become even more enraged. A man on horseback offers £20 to anyone who can get a ladder and and old gentleman offers 50 guineas to anyone who captures Sikes alive, saying “I will remain here, till he come to ask me for it.”

The cries and shrieks of those who were pressed almost to suffocation, or trampled down and trodden under foot in the confusion, were dreadful.“

Sikes shrinks at the sight, but is determined to make one last effort.



"The last chance — The End of Sikes" - George Cruikshank 1838

Making a loop in the rope, he ties one end of the rope round a chimney stack, and is about to lower himself from the roof when he looks up …

With a yell of terror he utters an unearthly screech:

“The eyes again!”

staggers, and tumbles over the parapet:



"The Death of Sikes" - Harry Furniss 1910

The rope around his body slips up to his neck, there is a “sudden jerk, a terrific convulsion of the limbs; and there he hung.” A dog howls and jumps to reach his shoulders, but misses and is killed falling into the ditch and striking his head against a stone.

This chapter comprises installment 22.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Wow! This is one of the most ironic ends to a villain in English literature. Bill Sikes does not live to stand trial, but he hangs for his crime nevertheless! And just as in the police courts, where criminals are brought face to face with their victims, Bill looks into Nancy’s eyes one last time, and then “justice” is done. I really enjoyed seeing inside Bill Sikes’s mind in these 2 chapters. I asked whether you thought he was really pursued by a phantom: Nancy’s ghostly spirit, or whether it was his own conscience. In the end it makes no difference, but knowing Charles Dickens’s strong views of mesmerism. I’m intrigued that it is Nancy’s eyes which he cannot get away from to escape.

However, it is unlikely that Nancy, who was so selfless, would have wanted Bill to hang under any circumstances, as she made clear in Chapter 16. So this is something else: retribution, from an ambiguous source. Charles Dickens was also a sincere Christian, with a belief in the afterlife. But what will the mob think of this? Will they feel justified, and as satisfied as we do?