Brownlow's Social Class

There has been some confusion, it seems, over the years in regard to the social class of Mr. Brownlow in Oliver Twist. The same might be said to be true somewhat of Oliver's own, and that of his aunt Rose. Shortly after I was acquainted with the story of Oliver Twist, back in the day, my father assumed that Brownlow was a member of minor nobility, possibly a baron. In my otherwise excellent report on Oliver I did for high school (which was tragically stolen in a last-day-of school prank) I refered to him, in the paper, as "Baron Brownlow." This was of course, merely my (or my father's, who kind of idealized the nobility) speculation, and not even good speculation.
     It is generally agreed, based on the body of criticism I've read of Oliver Twist, that Brownlow was merely of upper-class gentry or bourgeois. I rememeber a "close up" in TV guide in regard 1982's movie (the first I really knew of the story) which indeed refered to Oliver's rescuers as gentry. Brownlow was a friend of Oliver's father who is referred to as a "gentleman," as is Oliver's villainous half-brother, in spite of his assoication with the underclass. Oliver's family on his mother's side, however, "may" have been nobility, and I've oftimes assumed, given that Agnes and Rose's father was a captain in the British navy, and most officials would tend to be aristos. This too, is speculation, however.
     In regard to Brownlow, some speculation remains there as well, as one review of the 1982 movie refers to Brownlow as "a benevolent country squire.' Possibly, he was indeed a squire, the same as Alworthy in Tom Jones, which is somewhere between the gentry and aristocratic classes. One other review of the same film in question--and a very negative one--Brownlow is assumed to be "aristocratic", but much of the other information in the review, both in regard to book and the film, was very innaccurate.
     However, the whole issue of Brownlow's social class does bring up the issue of how social class was regarded back then in regard to now. I've noticed that lots of modern critics of Dickens often find fault with his dealings with class idealization in his novels, and with Oliver Twist in particular. In short, Dickens appears very much to have favored the upper classes by presenting Oliver's family and rescuers in glowing terms. And though his novel exposed the plight of the poor, most inhabitants of the underclass are presented as evil. Dickens' own attitudes were, unfortunately, shaped the class-favoring society he was a part of. That he christianed Fagin, one of the principle baddies of Oliver Twist after Bob Fagin, an actual friend of his, because he was in horror of being "dragged down" to his class level, is well-documented. I would point to the events in Great Expectations as evidence that his former attitudes regarding his class status seemed to have changed and he became more self-critical and self-reflective later in life.
      In regard to modern attitudes though, I'm not particularly happy with how they have influenced some of the adaptations of Oliver Twist. These are most evident in the various ways filmmakers have gone out of their way to protray the members of the Fagin gang as victims of circumstance. This is most of obvious in the depictions of Fagin himself, hardly surprising, as he was the most controversial character from the start. Even in Dicksens' own time objections were raised. But even though every adaptation following the 1948 one "humanizes" Fagin to a certain extent (very notably Timothy Spall's protrayal in 2007), I can live with that. Since I was introduced to the "fatherly" Fagin of George C. Scott, it has always even seemed a bit harsh to regard Fagin as one of villains.
        But what really irks me in regard to modern sensibilities when it comes to Dickens is when they attempt to make the "good guys" less sympathetic, or worse, downright evil. And yes, this has been done in regard to Brownlow. In the 2007 version of OT by the BBC (whose adaptations nowadays are a far cry from what they were), they actually make Monks Brownlow's grandson. An odd move, but they do so for a purpose that soon becomes clear. Throughout most of the film, the conivingly rotten Monks (to his credit, the actor moakes him thoroughly despicable) has Brownlow wrapped around his finger. He even has his sights set on marrying Rose. Only at the end does brownlow discover the full, horrid truth about Monks. This contrasts markedly to both the book and the version I grew up with, in which Brownlow effectively functions as the story's master sleuth, diciphering each section of Monk's plan before finally exposing him.

    There is, however, a far worse portrayal of Brownlow out there, which I happened to stumble across over a year ago. This one happens to be a stage play put on TNT theatre in Britain:

 

 http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20120229/arts-entertainment/A-fresh-twist-on-Dickens.408956

The above link contians a rather postive description. Draw your conclusions regarding this take on Dickens. However, don't be fooled: though Brownlow is described as "kindly" at one point, that's very misleading.  T o get an idea of the general feel of this, read the following:

"It also departed completely from the original narrative structure by turning Fagin into the primary narrator and having him, on the eve of his execution, converse in retrospect with Mr Brownlow as to who was to blame for the hardship and tragedy in the plot.

Who was to pay the ultimate price? Was it Fagin, who was in a sense a victim and manipulator of the circumstances which befell him, or was it Mr Brownlow, whose social prejudice and moral righteousness set the wheels in motion?" (Delicata)






   Obviously, this is not true to the book. The typical protrayal of Fagin as a lvoable rogue is taking at least one step further in viewing the story from his perspective. But what about Brownlow's "social prejudice" and "moral righteousness"? Simply put, they don't exist in Dickens' original. They have simply reinvented the character of Oliver's guardian for their own purposes. I have read the play itself, and I can state with confidence that the character of Brownlow has been almost totally villainized. A number of discrepancies exist. First, like the 1948 film, and many of the adaptations since, they make Brownlow Oliver's grandfather. The opening act has Brownlow actually has him cursing Oliver's mother for a harlot and casting her out on the street for having an out--of-wedlock pregnancy. They do Brownlow a small credit however, in allowing him to almost immediately regret this awful act. However, it's therefore plain form the start that in this mangled version, it's Brownlow who is the cause of Oliver's entire sorrid adventure! This is an entire flip of Brownlow's role in the story.
   And it gets worse.
   In the scene where Nancy "betrays" Monks to save Oliver's life, it's actually Brownlow who rats her out to the gang, breaking his former promise to her that he will tell no one. So, then, it's Brownlow who is to blame for Nancy's death as well! The whole thing begs the question of Oliver could possibly trust such a blackguard as this as his guardian. Realisitcally, he couldn't. Brownlow is just one more evil adult.
     The play ends with Fagin proclaiming that 'death' is the real story of Oliver Twist, and cursing Brownlow and those like him as the "real murderers", before he is hung. He also makes a genuinely heart-wrenching plead for who will look after the child members of his gang. A tragic finish indeed, with the enphasis on Fagin's demise rather than on Oliver liberation. A better light to shine on the plight of criminal underclass. But couldn't they have generating sympahty for Fagin's plight without turning one of the good guys evil?
     One interesting thing here in regard to issue Brownlow's social class. He is refered in this play, and no other adaptation that I'm aware yet, as "Lord Brownlow." In other words they make Brownlow an unspecified member of the nobility.
    Why? The answer is really obvious. It's the upper class, and not so much the bourgeois, who wield the real power, and it's them who are the ones to blame for society's ills. The whole haves vs. the have-nots thing. Plus, there seems to be a tendency in stories, perhaps in regard to this very sensibility, to make members of the aristocracy evil. I've seen it in too many places to mention. Whatever wisdom there is in blaming the aristos, Brownlow is just not himself here.


Delicata, Andre. "A Fresh Twist on Dickens," The Times of Malta.com Febuary 12, 2009. Web.

A Christmas Carol and its Adaptations

A Christmas Carol And Its Adaptations by Fred Guida, is a book I recently finished reading. I first learned of this book on Mr. Guida's site, Charles Dickens On Screen. This is a tome he authored himself, and it is almost unbeleivably comprehensive in regard to Carol adaptations. Every adaptation known to man is not only listed but examined, often in detail, from the very first versions known to be adapted (often plagerized) for the Victorian stage.

Given considerable attention in the chapter on televised versions are the George C. Scott version from 1984, and Henry Winkler's An American Christmas Carol from the late sevenites. This latter is notable, among other things, for taking place during the Great Depression. The point is made that oftimes the various versions of the Carol reflect the social climate and problems of their times. Clive Donner's version with George C. Scott may be seen for example as a critique of the Reagonite and Thacherite politics of its time (as can Donner's Oliver Twist, also staring Scott, filmed a couple years earlier). The Carol is, after all, a deeply mythic tale, one in which Dickens had apparently managed to actually tap into the collective human consciousness. It is a primal tale of death and rebirth found throughout religion and myth. That is why so many versions in so many places in time have cropped up, and continue to crop up, each holiday season. According to Paul Davis, author of the excellent Lives and Times of Ebeneezer Scrooge (which I also own and which Guida references) "We are still writing the Carol."

I learned quite a few things I didn't already know, including the fact that the animated Rankin/Bass feature from 1970s, The Stingiest Man In Town, was actually based on a previous live-action version staring Basil Rathbone of Sherlock Holmes fame, of all people. This version is, so far as I can tell, not available, which is a bit surprising. Sir Michael Hordern, famed actor of the british stage and cinema, actually made it into two versions, once as Marley, and the seond time as Scrooge. It's somehow strange to think of the soft-spoken Hordern as Ebenezeer, one thing Guida takes note of. The book also reveals that a sumptuous, and (according to Guida, at least) very good adaptation was filmed in France, the very same year that the famed Gearge Scott version premeired in America. This Frence version, sadly, is also not available, so far as I can tell.

The Filmography section of the book covers all versions of the Carol, and detail is given to those not included in the previous chapters. This includes all TV versions, all animated versions, all the versions that have cropped up on sitcoms at during the season over the years, and even "versions" that should perhaps be considered "semi-Carols." These are tales that, while clearly inpsired by the story of Scrooge, do not follow the same plot. One such film is My Little Boy, a film from way back in 1917, in which a Scrooge-like uncle disaproves of his nephew Fred's marraige. On Christmas eve the old curmudeon has a horrific dream in which he accidently kills his nephew's son, but wakes to the happy truth and as a result, becomes a a reformed man. A heart-rending film with a happy ending to be sure, though also, unfortuantely it is not avialable in any format. Also of note is a Christmas episode of "The Charlie Drake Show", a BBC serial in the UK back in the 60s. This "version" features characters from other Dickens novels, including Nicholas Nickleby, Pip and Miss Havisham from Great Expectations, and Fagin and Oliver from Oliver Twist, all of whom owe Scrooge money, and it's Bob Crachit's job to collect. I would have loved to seen this one, as it takes the "shared universe" concept to a whole new level.

In one chapter Guida deals with Dickens' other Christmas tales, and the curious fact that so few of them have been substanially translated into film. The Chimes, for example, has only recieved film treatment twice. Most unsual is that Dickens' The Haunted Man and the Ghost's Bargain" has apparently never been filmed at all. The story, virtually unkown to the public, invloves a chemist named Redlaw who encounters his own ghostly double one Christmas eve. This particular sort of phantom is know as a fetch in English folklore. The bargain concerns Redlw's desire to forget all the painful memories of his past. There turns out to be a major downside to this, until Redlaw manages, to see the error of his decison through the wisdom of the story's most innocent character.

Why has The Huanted Man never been filmed? Well, Christmas Carol, it seems, is so mythic in its essence that its resulting popularity has apparently drowned out all of Dickens' other tales. The reference to "scary ghost stories" in the song "Most Wonderful Time of the Year" often leaves people confused. Isn't there just one Christmas ghost story? Well, actually no. Guida does mention that The Haunted Man was indeed presented in at least two stage plays in the ninteenth century, one of which featured a "flying ghost." But sadly, the plays themselves no longer exist. One may hope that this and others of Dickens' Christmas tales may some day reach the screen.

All in all, a fantastic volume for Christmas Carol fans and well worth the reading.

Peter David's Artful

                                 
                                     




                                       

There have been numerous pastiches of Oliver Twist since it was first written. They are all rather obscure, but since Twist is probably Dickens' second most popular novel, quite a number of them do exist. The first I knew of was The Further Adventures of Oliver Twist , novel by David Butler, based on a TV serial shown only in the UK back in 1980. I finally read this when I purchased on ald paper back copy on ebay--not bad for a sequal, in spite a few inconsistancies. There was also Oliver and the Artful Dodger, a Hanna Barbera cartoon production shown on the ABC Superstar Movie, a Saturday morning series which featured different, often innovative cartoons by Hanna Barbera and Warner Brothers, back in 1972. Then there was the far more recent Escape Of The Artful Dodger, another Tv serial, this one shown on Australian televsion. There is also Dodge and Twist, by Tony Lee, and a proposed film with a different plot but the same title. Virtually every one I've come accross, with the possible exception of Oliver Twist Investigates by G. M. Best, features Jack Dawkins, aka The Artful Dodger, as a central character.

Then there are even a few works that focus that simply ditch Oliver altogather, and focus entirely on the more charismatic Dodger. There is Artful: The Dodger Down Under, by Martin Lake, following Dodger's adventures en route to the colonies and in Australia,and the more recent Dodge, by Terry Prachet, which appears to feature a facsimle Dodger character rather than the Artful himself. That brings us to the Artful by Peter David, and published early this year,  which focuses on the actual Dodger and his adventures upon escaping from the cololony ship and returing to the London streets. While certainly owing its existence to Oliver Twist, this is not a straight Oliver Twist pastiche, more like a spin-off. It should best be considered an Artful Dodger pastiche. It is also the first pastiche I'm aware that literally makes a case Dodger as the most intrigueing character compared to Oliver. The author makes this claim both in the blurb, and in the introduction to the novel itself.

One point the author makes here, one which I'd in fact really like to disagree with is, is that Oliver, even during his shinging moment of heroism whien he so defiantly asked for more gruel was essentially passive. Why can't I disagree? Becuase, as the author points out, in the original novel, the boys drew straws, and poor Oliver lost. I grew up on the the movie version in which Oliver heroically asks form more gruel for another starving boy. That truly is a shining moment of heroism, especially if you happen to be starving yourself--in the movie, at least. In the book, not so much. David does give Oliver credit, however, for bloodying Noah Claypole's nose, one incident, at least, in which Dickens allowed Oliver to take an active role.

David goes on to make another, darker, case regarding Dickens novel, namely that vampires were abroad on the streets  of Victorian London, but Dickens found them too disturbing to write abroad so he concealed this fact from his readers. Dickens did indeed steer clear from inclduing the supernatural, with the notable exception of his ghost stories---though there are some incidents throughout Dickesn that leave one wondering. David argues, with some validity, that certain points in Oliver Twist suggest that Fagin may well have been a member of the undead. Think about it, he always keeps to the shadows, is described as having rat-like fangs, etc. Yep, makes sense. It also gives the author a way to bring the old scoundrel back--after all, what would the gallows mean to a vampire? We also learn about Fagin's background, and exactly how it happened--an incident which seems to involve a certain Tranylvanian Count. The other suspected vampire form the original is police magisgrate Fang, orignally a minor villian who tries to sentence Oliver for stealing a book, and later sentences Dodger to deportation. I couldn't initially picture the slovenly, drunken magistrate I remmebered from the 1982 film version as a vampiric creature of the night, but David manages to make him a terrifying villain nonetheless, and very difficult adversary for Dodger.

We also learn quite a few things about the Artful's past and upbringing here, including the horrific and violent death of his mother. We learn the circumstances of how Fagin found and took him in, serving as a surrogate father figure. The novel also has Dodger eventually learning a secret regarding Fagin's past and his own which creates a rift between the old comrades. Later in the novel, there is incident in which Fagin considers their score settled, but Dodger refuses to forgive his former mentor. That's not, in my opinion at least, a highmark for Dodger's character, but it's a very human reaction nonetheless, so this Dodger manages to be dimensional as well as heroic.

The author gives his character plenty of opportunity for heroism throughout, inculding his rescue of (who he thinks is)a street girl from a drunken ruffian. The rescued girl turns out to be someone very important in connection to an enormous plot by the vampiric denizens of London to usurp the empire. The plot of this kind of reminds me of Wesley Snipes' comment in the movie version of Blade regarding vampiric control of New York: the world you live in uis merely the sugar-coated topic." It was that way back in Victorian London, as well, it seems. The fact that Mr. David is a famous writer for comics may not a coindence regarding his invention of a vampire infested Victorian age. It is also worth mentioning that this is not a straight Dickens pastiche; a good measure of Stoker and even Conan Doyle are in the mix as well, what with both the young Abraham Van Helsing and the Baker Steet irregulars getting involved. Note: Wiggings, the leader of the Irregulars, is featured here, but the author makes it plain that the leader of the Irregulars, which changes every several years, always assumes the name of Wiggins, as this tale takes place decades before the time of Sherlock Holmes. There is even a tie-in and explanation for the origins of the infamous paranormal rogue Spring-Heeled Jack and (just possibly) Jack the Ripper

 Artful is certainly a thrill-ride from start to finish, just as the author promises. But how is it as a Dickens' pastiche? Well, the Dickens characters are all representated accurately enough, provided the reader can accept the vampiric elements throughout, though there is one very slight exception. Oliver Twist himself has a couple of cameos in the novel, first near the beginning when the recently escaped Dodger glimpses him in a coach with Mr. Brownlow, and later when Dodger and VanHelsing arrive at Brownlow's posh estate to explain their predicement and warn of the vampiric threat. It is made fairly clear during this scene that Brownlow, while protrayed as basically decent, is a bit prejudiced toward these lower class ruffians, and wanting Oliver to have anything to do with them, not even telling Oliver who had was who had visited. In other words, David makes Brownlow a bit of a class snob, which means that he is--well, slightly off character. However, this is by no means as dreadful as a certain Oliver Twist play I am aware of that literally makes Brownblow into a villain--but I digress.

Artful, is, as said, an exciting read, and I'm wondering, perhaps, if a comic version might some day be in the works. Not likely, but a possibility since, David is, after all, in the comics field. If that ever happens, I hope that they get Berni Wrightson to illustrate it. I can just see some marvelous Wristson artwork for the scene where Dodger and Van Helsing enter a canrival "Cabinet of Horrors" featuring all sorts of stuffed monstosities. Take a look at some fo the stuff Wrightson has done for his ongoing Frankenstein Alive Alive! series, if you don't beleive me.

Quigsnip: The Untold Tale of Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist

Here is the "Oliver Twist" pastiche story that I have just completed!

http://www.amazon.com/Quigsnip-Untold-Charles-Dickens-Oliver/dp/150063476X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1409418750&sr=1-1&keywords=quigsnip



Here is an excerpt, BTW:

“You stole the money, Oliver! That you did! The money's here, Oliver!” Quigsnip held forth the familiar silk sack containing the inheritance money. “It's all here, Oliver! I checked! Oh, what a kind, brave, selfless, lad you are! Such a pity not one farthing will be spent on account of the children!”

“N-no!” cried Oliver, his thin, soprano voice nearly breaking with anguish, “You're lying!” But in his despairing heart, Oliver knew his monstrous captor spoke the truth.

“Am I?” roared Quigsnip, his voice filling with fury. “Just wait, boy, until the London Times runs the article! 'Oliver Twist Guilty of Robbing Shaftesbury's Charity!'” He snatched a letter from his pocket and held it out for Oliver to see. “And here is irrefutable proof of your guilt, and your personal indictment Dr. Losberne, right on this letter in your own handwriting! Not even your contemptible family can spare you now! Now, not even your dear Rose and Mr. Brownlow will believe you!”

“NOOOOOOOOO!” wailed Oliver, in anguished misery. The boy fell on his knees, head downcast.

The men jeered at him.

Limbkins, though he would not liked to have admitted it, was terribly unsettled at the moment, more so now by the boy's harrowing cry.

Noah swaggered over to where Oliver slumped. “'Ow do ya like it now, Nolly?” the older lad sneered. “'Ow's that fer breaking my nose back at Sowerberry's?”

To Claypole's astonishment, the smaller boy sprang to life. Oliver sprang from his position like a stroke of lightening and drove his small, hard fist into Claypole's nose with savage force.

Noah reeled back, screaming and clutching his face.“My nose! 'Ee broke my bloody nose! Oliver broke it again!”

Oliver stood before his towering captors, tears of rage leaking down his cheeks, his small hands closed into fists.

“What are you dolts waiting for?” Quigsnip ordered. “Get him!”

Oliver stood his ground, but there was nothing such a small, slim boy could do against the burly adults. They seized the frail lad and dragged him to the edge of a pier.

“Now--”ordered the monstrous Quigsnip. “Bind him.”

The men bound Oliver's arms behind his back with heavy ropes. Two of them carried concrete blocks over to where they had Oliver bound.

“Do his feet,” Quigsnip ordered.

They lashed the heavy weights to Oliver's thin legs.

As the boy stood in a stupor of despair, arms and legs bound on the edge of the pier, Quigsnip ordered his gang to step back.

Oliver was past caring. If what Quigsnip said was the truth, he didn’t care if he died.

Quigsnip stepped forward, an oily grin on his face. “And so I bid you a final farewell, young Oliver Twist. At last you've paid the price for the money I've lost, and for what your family did to me, the richest crime-lord in London! You'll serve as a prime of example of why no one ever crosses Zebedias Quigsnip and lives to boast of it! Know that that doctor friend of yours will pay along with you! Despair, young Oliver—and die!

With that, Quigsnip slashed out savagely with one leg. His booted foot smashed into the boy's middle with tremendous force. The wind knocked out of him, Oliver was propelled backward by the force. The bound boy flew of the pier. The polluted water surged over his head.

In seconds, Oliver was swallowed by the Thames.

Quigsnip: The Untold Tale of Charles Dickens' "Oliver Twist"

                  

                          Quigsnip

        The Untold Tale of

                                        Charles Dickens'

 

              OLIVER TWIST

           

Jacob T. Marley by William Bennet

     This is an interesting little book that I happened to read the Christmas before last at the local library, essentially in one sitting. A lot of people probably wonder why Dickens didn't delve deeper into the personal history of Jacob Marley, Scrooge's ill-fated partner in Carol, especially since he was so central to the story. Unlike his more famous business partner,we learn nothing of Marley's childhood or younger years, only that he lived much of his life as a ruthless business man.
    
      Just who was Jacob Marley? What made him into the sort of man he became, and how did he and Scrooge meet? The answers to those questions and others come to light in R. William Bennett's small novella. There have been a number of pastiches of A Christmas Carol over the years, two of the most memorable for me, being God Bless Us Everyone, a book detailing the years following Scrooge's conversion, and Christmas Carol II, The Sequel, a spoofy version that finds Scrooge going too far in the other direction, hosted by George Burns back in 1986. No pastiche is or should be considered canonical; however Bennet's tale is not only better than most, it fills out what the life of Marley may well have been like. One almost wishes for Dickens' stamp of approval--though what the author's opinion would be is anyone's guess.

      One more thing: the author does deal with the issue of Marley's salvation. When we meet in the story, it appears that Marley is a lost soul, doomed to an eternity of hopeless wandering. Not tom divulge the ending, but the author comes up with a scenario in which this might not necessarily be the case, and he does without altering anything that Dickens wrote in the original. I've also read that the author happens to be a Mormon; as I'm only marginally familiar with the Mormon concept of an afterlife, so I can't say for certain to what degree that might have shaped his writing.

But Jacob T. Marley is a worthy "sequel", and one well-worth picking up. 

The Faith of Charles Dickens

       In God and Charles Dickens, Christian author Gary L. College argues that Dickens was an important Christian voice, and the messages of faith that his stories are rife with are seldom discussed or appreciated. Some have argued that Dickens was only nominally a Christian, and even that his works were overtly anti-religious. While it is very true that the author was very critical of how the tenants of the Christian faith were abused or preached hypocritically by those in power, a closer reading of his text reveals that Dickens was NOT condemning Christianity itself--far from it. As I've argued elsewhere, citing hypocrisy among Christians (or those who identify themselves as such)is a very poor way of finding fault with the faith itself. In fact, as College argues, it was the Christian faith of Charles Dickens that lead him to attack hypocrisy he identified in the religious as he sought to change it. The subject of Victorian religious hypocrisy brings almost immediately to my mind the characters of Mr. and Mrs. Bumble in Oliver Twist, the gross, hypocritical Mr. Bumble in particular famous for preaching Christian charity with wallowing in gluttony in front of the starving poor. A line from the 1982 movie stands out in particular, spoken by the future Mrs. Bumble: "Forgive these children their sins; their sinners every one of them; they wouldn't be here is they wasn't. Help me make them better Christians, Lord." Also of particular not note is the incident in the book where Mr. Bumble deliberately lies to Mr. Brownlow about Oliver's good nature.
      College spends time discussing a little-known work of the author, The Life of Our Lord, in which he expounds on the life and acts of Jesus Christ, and their relevance to his present world. This work is little known precisely because it was never intended to be sold to the public; it was a private work intended as a guide to Christian living for his children, and only brought to light years after his death. But even a casual reading of Dickens reveals what amounts to an essentially Christian world-view. While A Christmas Carol is sometimes criticized by the religious as almost entirely secular, Tiny Tim Crachit's enduring phrase God Bless Us, Everyone!, and Bob Crachit's observation of Tim's wish that people would see he was a cripple so that they should remember "Who made lame men walk and blind men see," speak volumes, as do the final pages of Oliver Twist, which reference God and heaven and speak of the narrator's belief that the shade of Agnes Fleming (Oliver's deceased mother) will visit her gravesite. College goes further, pointing out the good characters in Dickens' novels exemplify Christian values, while his villains demonstrate their antithesis.
   One thing that struck me in particular while reading this was how much emphasis Dickens placed on human charity and working for the common good, and how this so contrasts with today's evangelism, in which "good works" are continually downplayed, sometimes to the point of vilification, while "faith" is exulted. Often (though not always) such evangelists recognize that a saving faith will produce works, though it does not always come across that way. Dickens, however, put the importance of charity and defense of the weak, poor, and disenfranchised at the forefront of Christian living. Nor did he confine such philanthropy to his fiction; as College shows, Dickens own life shows much evidence of personal charity.
    So different from the culture-war oriented evangelism of today that often dumbs down faith to a "get out of hell free card." Not that Dickens disbelieved in or disregarded hell's existence: he did not. College provides passages where Dickens strongly suggests that certain non-repentant characters, such as Fagin and Sikes in Oliver Twist, and Rigaud in Little Dorrit were beyond moral redemption at the time of their deaths.
      Curiously, however, College neglects to mention a very powerful presentation of a damned soul, perhaps the most powerful in literature: Jacob Marley. However, as I'll discuss in my next post, it is possible that Marley was not as beyond moral redemption as one might have thought--although I'll say right now that that is according to a different author's interpretation.