The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Dear Fellow Curiosities,

This week’s reading assignment tells us of Mrs. Nickleby and Kate and their new … shall we call it “home”? Of how things go on with Nicholas, at Dotheboys Hall, just until things can positively not go on in that way anymore. Of a bunch of new characters that is introduced, and of how Nicholas arrives in London. Chapters 11 to 14 would have made the third instalment in the original publication pattern, with Chapter 15 being the first bit of the fourth instalment.

So, let’s sit down and enjoy the roller-coaster of events that this week had in store for us – saying this, I must own that I really love reading Nicholas Nickleby, more than I remembered loving it, because it is such a fast-paced novel. Chapter 11 is quite a short one, dealing with how Mrs. Nickleby and Kate prepare to leave Miss La Creevy’s lodgings, at Ralph’s behest, and how Newmann Noggs accompanies the two women to their new abode, a very humble, or rather shabby one, indeed.

This chapter gives us a first impression of Mrs. Nickleby’s way of looking at things, and especially, of speaking about them. For example, she says that she remembers two young milliners who had immense property – although she does not know whether they actually acquired it through their work, or maybe through marriage. She only focuses on what she deems advantageous about their situation, never pausing a moment to think about the dark sides, as e.g. here:

”This question disposed of, Kate communicated her uncle’s desire about the empty house, to which Mrs. Nickleby assented with equal readiness, characteristically remarking, that, on the fine evenings, it would be a pleasant amusement for her to walk to the West end to fetch her daughter home; and no less characteristically forgetting, that there were such things as wet nights and bad weather to be encountered in almost every week of the year.”

Not only does this look quite naïve, but it also shows some tendency to ignore Kate’s needs and perspective because even though a walk on a fine evening may be pleasant for Mrs. Nickleby, it is her daughter who has to go the way to and back every single workday, not only on the fine evenings. What I also noticed is the narrator’s inclination to comment on Mrs. Nickleby a lot instead of simply leaving it to the reader to work out how little good common sense is in that woman, e.g. here:

”[…] but the good lady set that question entirely at rest, by informing them that she had a presentiment on the subject—a species of second-sight with which she had been in the habit of clenching every argument with the deceased Mr. Nickleby, and, in nine cases and three-quarters out of every ten, determining it the wrong way.”

What might the narrator’s reason be for his frequent, rather intrusive, remarks on Mrs. Nickleby?

What do you think about Newman Noggs? It becomes clear that all the little comforts that are there to cheer up the general dreariness of the house allotted to mother and daughter by Ralph Nickleby – pending further notice, mind! – have been provided and prepared by Newman and not by his employer. Consequently, he would also have been the one to pay for these things, as for the coach they take in order to transport the family’s belongings into the new (or, old) house.

What do you think of the ending – Mrs. Nickleby’s being about to disband Newman by giving him some small change, and Kate’s quickly intervening? Is there no end of Mrs. Nickleby’s lapses into awkward behaviour? And might she not one day fall out with Miss La Creevy?

Chapter 12 hurls us northward, all the way to Yorkshire, where Nicholas tries to resign himself to his new position as Mr. Squeers’s usher, not wanting to bring Ralph’s wrath on his mother and his sister. We learn of the events happening after the rather unsuccessful tea party initiated by Fanny Squeers: When, after her quarrel with Miss Price, she prepares to get ready for bed, the hungry servant tries to improve her standing with Miss Fanny by telling her that in fact John Browdie seems to be more enraptured by Miss Fanny than by Miss Price, who puts herself out in a rather vulgar and obtrusive way. Our narrator explains to us very well the motives making the hungry servant employ such overblown flatteries as well as Fanny’s reasons for apparently taking them at face value, when in her heart of hearts she knows that the servant girl is lying to her:

”Spite is a little word; but it represents as strange a jumble of feelings, and compound of discords, as any polysyllable in the language. Miss Squeers knew as well in her heart of hearts that what the miserable serving-girl had said was sheer, coarse, lying flattery, as did the girl herself; yet the mere opportunity of venting a little ill-nature against the offending Miss Price, and affecting to compassionate her weaknesses and foibles, though only in the presence of a solitary dependant, was almost as great a relief to her spleen as if the whole had been gospel truth. Nay, more. We have such extraordinary powers of persuasion when they are exerted over ourselves, that Miss Squeers felt quite high-minded and great after her noble renunciation of John Browdie’s hand, and looked down upon her rival with a kind of holy calmness and tranquillity, that had a mighty effect in soothing her ruffled feelings.”

The rather unpredictable relationship between Miss Fanny and Miss ‘Tilda becomes obvious when on the next morning, Miss Price comes to make matters up with her friend again, and in the course of their conversation, which eventually settles on clothes to be worn at Miss Price’s wedding, the two friends reconcile, then fall out with each other before they vow eternal friendship to each other again – something that, as the narrator tells us – has happened for the fifty-second time within the last twelve months. When Miss Squeers finally walks Miss Price home, they happen to meet Nicholas outside. Actually, they don’t really happen to meet him but Miss Squeers knew very well that this is the hour when he usually goes for a little walk outside, it is Miss Price who encourages her friend to elicit signs of affection from Nicholas. Again, I would ask myself what motives Miss Price might have in doing this. Is she acting out of spite, and vanity, seeing that Nicholas is probably not at all captivated by Miss Squeers’s charms?

And what do you think of Nicholas’s reply:

”’[…] Stop,’ cried Nicholas hurriedly; ‘pray hear me. This is the grossest and wildest delusion, the completest and most signal mistake, that ever human being laboured under, or committed. I have scarcely seen the young lady half-a-dozen times, but if I had seen her sixty times, or am destined to see her sixty thousand, it would be, and will be, precisely the same. I have not one thought, wish, or hope, connected with her, unless it be—and I say this, not to hurt her feelings, but to impress her with the real state of my own—unless it be the one object, dear to my heart as life itself, of being one day able to turn my back upon this accursed place, never to set foot in it again, or think of it—even think of it—but with loathing and disgust.’”

Might he not have clothed his refusal in less offensive words? If not to suppress the truth, then to avoid adding Miss Squeers’s hatred to that of her mother? Is Nicholas not very impulsive, naïve, arrogant here?

Be that as it may, the Squeerses are clever enough in their spite, baseness and cruelty not only to vent their spleen by picking on Nicholas himself but by choosing poor Smike as a sufferer-in-proxy to hurt Nicholas through. Seeing that the 19-year old boy has taken a liking for Nicholas, they treat him much worse than before in order to hit Nicholas. Mrs. Squeers has hated him (as an arrogant young man) from the very start, Miss Squeers now feels humiliated and wants to have her revenge, and Mr. Squeers seems to be jealous of Nicholas’s influence over the boys.

Smike, however, seems to bear up with the intensified malice on the part of the Squeers family; the only thing that really vexes him is the thought that Nicholas might leave Dotheboys Hall one day, in consequence of what he has to witness and undergo there. In Nicholas’s own words, borrowed perhaps from John Milton – yes, Peter made me very sensitive to this particular cross-reference in Dickens -, the world is before him.

What do you think of Fanny Squeers and Master Squeers? They are indeed terrible in their way, e.g. when Fanny, knowing that her father will return home drunk and therefore in a combative mood, keeps a boy up for the purpose of having him bear the brunt of Squeers’s sodden wrath. On the other hand, what can you expect of these two young people growing up with parents like that?

Our narrator very often makes witty and spiteful remarks on the characters we are supposed to dislike – for instance, the following, which really made me laugh out loud:

”‘What a situation!’ cried Miss Squeers; ‘on the brink of unconsciously destroying the peace and happiness of my own ‘Tilda. What is the reason that men fall in love with me, whether I like it or not, and desert their chosen intendeds for my sake?’

‘Because they can’t help it, miss,’ replied the girl; ‘the reason’s plain.’ (If Miss Squeers were the reason, it was very plain.)”

They are funny, but they also manipulate the reader. Do you mind being led thus strongly and obviously by our narrator? And what do you think of Nicholas’s turgid, declamatory use of language? You know what I mean, don’t you? Things like:

”‘Pray dispense with this jesting, for I have no time, and really no inclination, to be the subject or promoter ofmirth just now.’”

Maybe, we could collect instances of this stage claptrap?

Before this list grows too long, let us have a look at Chapter 13 now, which is full of drama and action: One morning in January, Nicholas awakes and notices that Smike has disappeared. The Squeerses are not long to notice this as well, and they do not mince words but make it very clear that they suspect Nicholas of aiding and abetting Smike in running away. They also want to get him back because not only is Smike a ready, untiring worker – despite his mental deficiencies –, thus sparing the noble schoolmaster the expense of hiring a servant, but they also know that it is important for them to show the other boys that trying to escape is a useless enterprise never crowned with success.

And yet, Mr. Squeers is hypocrite enough to beat the boy who first suggests that Smike has run away – because what could he have wanted to run away from in such a beautiful place like Dotheboys Hall? Suggesting that Smike has run away is therefore equal to suggesting that the school is a place worth running away from.

It is Mrs. Squeers who finally drags the quarry home but when Smike is going to be punished in front of the whole school, something breathtaking happens: Nicholas can no longer contain his indignation at the first strike the poor young caitiff receives, and he tries to dissuade Mr. Squeers from carrying out his demonstration of power. The schoolmaster attacking Nicholas, the situation gets out of control: Nicholas gives Squeers a jolly good beating with his own cane, notwithstand the other Squeerses trying to help the schoolmaster – the boys, certainly, just stand and look on. When he has done thrashing the thrashworthy Squeers, he packs up his things and leaves the place behind him.

Hmmm, at that moment there was a very urgent question popping up in my mind, and I am sure you will easily guess what it was. I am starting a new paragraph to introduce that question, so if you want to guess whether you asked yourself a similar question, wait before you got to the new line.

Welcome in the next line! The question I asked myself immediately at this point of the story was why Nicholas did not think of Smike for a moment but left Dotheboys Hall without taking the poor boy with him. It seems quite strange that he would go away, leaving Smike in Mr. Squeers’s school, when it is so obvious that the family would take out the humiliation and the physical pain they suffered from Nicholas on Smike, whom they would regard as the person who caused the whole explosion. Of course, at the end of the chapter, Smike joins Nicholas – but our hero could not have known that at the time when he was leaving Dotheboys Hall. So, what reasons could he have had for not offering Smike to join him?

The first person Nicholas runs into when setting out to London – he actually plans to walk the whole distance on foot (!!!) if needs be – is Mr. Browdie. In the light of their former quarrel, Nicholas anticipates another confrontation with this “honest blockhead” (as Nicholas rather haughtily calls him within his own thoughts), but when Nicholas offers his sincere apologies, Mr. Browdie relents and actually offers Nicholas a loan of the money he needs to return to London. Maybe, not only the fact that the misunderstanding between them has been cleared, but also the more cheerful information that Nicholas has flogged the schoolmaster, make the corn dealer warm towards Nicholas, and the latter accepts the loan in good grace. It is good that he does because when he awakes the next morning, he finds that Smike has followed him in order to stay with him. Nicholas finally accepts the boy’s entreaty to go with him, saying, in his strangely histrionic way:

”‘And the world shall deal by you as it does by me, till one or both of us shall quit it for a better. Come!’”

Did your opinion on Nicholas change in the course of the last few chapters? Where do you think do his strengths lie, where his weaknesses?

The next two chapters, i.e. numbers 14 and 15, can be dealt with in conjunction because they introduce us to a variety of new characters and they share the same setting. Originally, however, Chapter 14 was the final bit of the fourth instalment, the fifth one commencing with Chapter 15.

Chapter 14 warns us that it is of a “Mean and Vulgar Character” since it treats of “none but Common People” but one can sense that the narrator is quite fond of the characters he introduces here, and in a way, one has the feeling of reading one of the Sketches by Boz, at least for most of the time.

We find ourselves flies on the wall at the Kenwigses, a shabby-genteel family living in the same house where Newman Noggs resides – in “a bygone, faded, tumble-down street, with two irregular rows of tall meagre houses, which seem to have stared each other out of countenance years ago. The very chimneys appear to have grown dismal and melancholy, from having had nothing better to look at than the chimneys over the way. Their tops are battered, and broken, and blackened with smoke; and, here and there, some taller stack than the rest, inclining heavily to one side, and toppling over the roof, seems to meditate taking revenge for half a century’s neglect, by crushing the inhabitants of the garrets beneath.” Although the description does not sound too pleasant, we will find Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs honest people who also have their everyday weaknesses. Their eldest daughter’s first name, Morleena, which was, as we learn, composed by Mrs. Kenwigs, might be a hint at the family trying to keep up appearances in the face of financial adversity. This evening, they are celebrating their eighth wedding anniversary, and they have invited a round of guests, the most important of which is Mrs. Kenwigs’s uncle Lillyvick, a collector of water rates, who, being a bachelor, has put some money on the side, which has him made the target of Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs’s admiration, respect and attention. Doubtless, his impeccable character and amiability have worked to the same effect. We later learn that they have even christened their baby child, a boy, Lillyvick in order to leave no doubt as to the depth of their devotion to the respectable uncle.

Apart from Mr. Lillyvick and other guests, among whom we may highlight Miss Petowker, of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lange, there is also Newman Noggs, who is a favourite with the Kenwigs children and who has also always been helpful to the family whenever the necessity arose. His being invited to that special occasion is, however, also due – at least, to a certain extent – to his having been a gentleman. Chapter 14 ends with a special cliff-hanger, namely Newman Noggs being called upon by his neighbour Crowl and being told that two very strange gentlemen, who evidently have a hard and long journey behind them, have appeared and would like to see him urgently. Newman immediately follows the summons, not without showing great presence of mind enough in snatching the jug of punch – to the utter dismay of Mr. Lillyvick – and taking it with him.

Chapter 15, the beginning of the fifth instalment, takes up the action at this very point, following Newman upstairs and showing us what we might already have anticipated, namely that the two mysterious strangers are Nicholas and Smike. Newman is not too surprised at finding them because he in fact knows about a letter to Ralph written by Fanny Squeers at her father’s behest – a letter he has made a copy of and which he reads to Nicholas. The young man is angry at the misrepresentations of events in the letter, and he would immediately like to see his mother and his sister but Newman begs him remain calm and not do things in a rush. Ralph is out of town for the next three days, anyway, and it would be a good thing to talk to Ralph before seeing his family – according to Newman’s assessment of the situation.

While they are talking – note that Newman, who might have sequestered the punch with a view to imbibing it himself, never hesitates but divides the potion between Nicholas and Smike when he sees that they have to be restored after their long journey –, Mr. Crowl, Newman’s selfish neighbour, uses the opportunity to arouse the Kenwigs’s suspicions against the newcomers by implying that they might have broken out of prison and suffer from a contagious disease, for all he knows, and Mr. Kenwigs is already on the point of going upstairs to have a look at, and possibly a word with, the two strangers, when suddenly somebody is screaming, and a little while later Nicholas enters the room – in fact, he ran over Mr. Kenwigs on the stairs – with the baby Lillyvick in his arms. It turns out that the babysitter, falling asleep, set her hair on fire and that Nicholas, alerted by the screams, saved both her and the baby’s life, nipping the fire in the bud. The feat of heroism assuages all the fears and suspicions of the Kenwigs and their guests, and they invite Nicholas to partake of their punch – an invitation he declines on the grounds of being too tired and hence too dull a companion.

Might it be of importance that while there was a lot of excitement about the little baby, Mr. Lillyvick apparently exchanged kisses with Miss Petowker? Who knows …

Questions and thoughts
Did you enjoy the rather lengthy introduction of the Kenwigses, Mr. Lillyvick and Miss Petowker? After all, they do not seem to play any important role with regard to the plot of the novel, and it seems as though Dickens has inserted one of his Sketches here. Do you think there is any potential for development of the Kenwigs adventures? If so, what link might there be with the main plot?

Do you think Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs are too sycophantic toward their uncle? Are they mere fortune hunters?

Miss Petowker is an actress, but apparently Nicholas is one, too. Look at all his stagey, hammy language, e.g. here:

”’Sleep! Exhausted as I am, and standing in no common need of rest, I cannot hope to close my eyes all night, unless you tell me everything.’”

“‘If you look so distressed to see me, you will add to the pain I feel already, at being compelled, for one night, to cast myself upon your slender means for aid and shelter.’”

“‘Before I would make an effort to see them, I deemed it expedient to come to you, lest, by gratifying my own selfish desire, I should inflict an injury upon them which I can never repair. […]’”

Last week, one of the worthy Curiosities said that Dickens had a hand in giving every single character a particular speech pattern – but as far as Nicholas is concerned, his language seems more like that of melodrama, and there is an unintentional humour about it. It’s not difficult to imagine Nicholas, while speaking these words, strutting and fretting his hour upon the stage, wearing a black cape and sporting a moustache, gesticulating like a ventilator.

Saying that, however, Mrs. Kenwigs tries to out-ham him, e.g. here:

”‘My baby, my blessed, blessed, blessed, blessed baby!’ screamed Mrs Kenwigs, making every blessed louder than the last. ‘My own darling, sweet, innocent Lillyvick—Oh let me go to him. Let me go-o-o-o!’”

But as a comic relief character, that is Mrs. Kenwigs’s privilege. A youthful protagonist, however, should not really talk like Mr. Wopsle from Great Expectations, should he?

Miss Squeers has a moment of great humour, when in her letter she writes:

”’My pa requests me to write to you, the doctors considering it doubtful whether he will ever recuvver the use of his legs which prevents his holding a pen. […] We were kimpelled to have him carried down into the kitchen where he now lays. You will judge from this that he has been brought very low. […]’”

This letter almost makes me feel kind towards Fanny, but on second thoughts … no, it doesn’t.

We also get some hints as to one of the reasons why Newman might not have been very successful in the world – in one passage, the narrator remarks that Newman was never good at using the word ‘no’ when somebody made a request of him; and then we have this wonderful passage:

”‘My dear young man, you mustn’t give way to—this sort of thing will never do, you know—as to getting on in the world, if you take everybody’s part that’s ill-treated—Damn it, I am proud to hear of it; and would have done it myself!’”

These sentiments really make Newman most hug-worthy, don’t they?

Tristram wrote: "Dear Fellow Curiosities,

This week’s reading assignment tells us of Mrs. Nickleby and Kate and their new … shall we call it “home”? Of how things go on with Nicholas, at Dotheboys Hall, just until..."

Tristram

You ask if there is any end to Mrs Nickleby’s faux pas. She gets my vote for the most annoying character we have come across since PP. To me, the answer is simple. No. At one level I thought she was used for filler. Then I thought Dickens was using her as a foil for more likeable characters such as Newman Noggs. Then, and this is scary, I thought Dickens was using her comic relief.

Candidly, I think Dickens was doing a bit of all the above. Sadly, for me anyways, none of the above reasons were successful in my mind.

As much as Mrs Nickleby annoys me, I am enjoying Newman Noggs. He has a misty past of being a gentleman, he is kind and considerate, he seems to be able to anticipate the needs, concerns, and aspirations of others and he is interesting in his presentation. He writes on shabby paper but the contents of such letters are always thoughtful. His dress and appearance is pure Dickensian.

Since he seems to be weaving his way through the narrative arc of the novel I feel there is much to come from him. His links to a diverse number of characters means he will be well suited to be a stakeholder in many different plot lines.

I seem to always gravitate towards certain characters in any novel. In NN, I look forward to each and every appearance.

Hammy language indeed. I can see why this novel could be easily transformed into a melodrama on stage. Nicholas Nickleby is a man of extremes, his mother unbelievably verbose, and his sister pure, righteous and proud.

The supporting cast of characters have no subtlety in their personalities at all. And then we have Ralph Nickleby, Sir Mulberry Hawk and the other bad guys. It seems that no character in this novel has any moderation at all.

Chapter 11

Thank you for this chapter. I needed it after last week. And I needed Newman and his unique style. I'm not sure I've come across a character quite like him. He's unintentionally funny because of his odd mannerisms. But I have a feeling that before all is said and done I might have reason to call him a magician or at least a master of legerdemain. The only drawback was Mrs Nickleby, who is already an annoying simpleton possessing that strange Dickens' quality of admiring her enemies and doubting her friends.

Peter, you and me and not Mrs. Nickleby.

Peter wrote: "His links to a diverse number of characters means he will be well suited to be a stakeholder in many different plot lines...."

Oh, that's true! I'm also in the Noggs fan club, but I did find his letter to Nicholas to be disappointing, revelation-wise. "Your father was nice to me and you can always crash at my place" was not exactly the Oliver Twisty skeleton in the closet I was anticipating. But on reflection, it's better. I don't doubt that there will eventually be something sufficiently melodramatic in Ralph's closet, and in the meantime the big secret is... basic decency. I remember we were generally in agreement that Oliver had too much clunky plot going, so maybe some of that will be smoothed away in this book.

I found the Kenwigs to be a little tedious, though I love the "blessed, blessed, blessed, blessed baby!" line. But maybe I'm just an impatient reader this week. That scene seemed to take a long time and belabor its points. Though I guess if he must, I'd rather Dickens string things out with new clusters of characters than with the standalone stories last week's reading had.

Also I'm glad Nicholas is (at least for now) out of Squeers's place. I thought that would take longer, and it was so unpleasant. I hope there's a second act where the place gets broken up and all the boys, I dunno, what would become of the boys? Find a Fagin, I guess. Maybe Nicholas can open his own school.

It's fun to be reading a new (for me) Dickens novel and have no idea at all how it's going to turn next.

Julie wrote: "Also I'm glad Nicholas is (at least for now) out of Squeers's place. I thought that would take longer, and it was so unpleasant. I hope there's a second act where the place gets broken up and all t..."

Hi Julie

There will be lots of bits and surprises to come. In fact, it will speed up and get even more intriguing in the coming weeks.

Enjoy.

I like Noggs too. He is sensitive, clever, and humble, working behind the scenes to help others. I like when he takes things out of his hat, such as papers and keys. Maybe he is the "noggin" or intellect in the story?

I also like Miss La Creevy. She was so kind-hearted when sending Kate off. She also left the door open for future communication, like Noggs did with Nicholas.

I get the impression that Noggs and La Creevy are the "guardain geniuses" of Nicholas and Kate, respectively.

‘You shall not shake me off, for all that,’ replied Miss La Creevy, with as much sprightliness as she could assume. ‘I shall see you very often, and come and hear how you get on; and if, in all London, or all the wide world besides, there is no other heart that takes an interest in your welfare, there will be one little lonely woman that prays for it night and day.’

With this, the poor soul, who had a heart big enough for Gog, the guardian genius of London, and enough to spare for Magog to boot, after making a great many extraordinary faces which would have secured her an ample fortune, could she have transferred them to ivory or canvas, sat down in a corner, and had what she termed ‘a real good cry.’

I looked up Gog and Magog. There was a story written about them in 1819. It's a bit long, but it looks like they rescued the lady, "Londona" (London), from some bad creature. Hmmm, is this a sign that La Creevy will come to the rescue at some point?

Alissa wrote: "Noggs and La Creevy..."

Could it be? A double wedding: Tilda and John and Noggs and La Creevy?

Noggs was a wealthy business man until something happened. I'm betting that something was Ralph.

Chapter 12

Love this line, dickens as I like him best:

... for Miss Squeers was quite lazy enough (and sufficiently vain and frivolous withal) to have been a fine lady; and it was only the arbitrary distinctions of rank and station which prevented her from being one.

Poor Smike. There's no hope for him, is there?

As to Tilda and Franny, nothing like a couple of country gals to make you forget all about those city ladies.

Alissa wrote: "I like Noggs too. He is sensitive, clever, and humble, working behind the scenes to help others. I like when he takes things out of his hat, such as papers and keys. Maybe he is the "noggin" or int..."

Alissa

I had never thought of it before, but I really like how you see Noggs and LaCreevy as “guardian geniuses” of Nicholas and Kate. I cannot think of two more suitable and firm friends for anyone. Their eccentricities make them even better.

Mrs. Nickleby is annoying, but I don't dislike her...yet. Let's see how much time we spend with her in the coming weeks. Don't we all have that relative whom we love, but who makes us cringe a little bit? In that way, she reminds me a bit of Austen's Mrs. Bennet.

I love, love, love Noggs. That quiet friend who mows your lawn, or shovels your walk but never says anything. I can't wait to see his story unfold and, God willing, his rise back to a less subservient position.

Tilda and Fannie, with all their scheming, fighting, and making up, are the original Lucy and Ethel. I wonder if Lucy was a Dickens fan.

Our hero, Nicholas, is likable -- anyone who'd step in and give Squeers a taste of his own medicine is okay with me. But he's impetuous. As the NN characters all seem to remind me of someone else, I'll continue by saying Nicholas reminds me of Mr. Losberne in Oliver Twist -- hot headed and a bit reckless. It will be interesting to see if, over the course of the novel, Nicholas grows and matures, and learns to think things through a bit before speaking or acting. Thank goodness he has Noggs to try to teach him some restraint.

For some reason, I just don't like the name Smike. I keep hearing "smite" in it. It does not work for me and does not match up to the sympathetic character he appears to be. One of the very rare times, in my opinion, where Dickens missed the mark on a name.

Tristram wrote: "I really love reading Nicholas Nickleby, more than I remembered loving it, because it is such a fast-paced novel..."

Julie wrote: "Also I'm glad Nicholas is (at least for now) out of Squeers's place. I thought that would take longer...."

Let me join this chorus! I'm so enjoying the fast pace of NN (with the exception of the extraneous tales at the Inn following the accident). I know there are many among us who love the way Dickens creates a mood with his descriptive settings, weather, etc. I appreciate his talent as far as that goes, but much prefer dialog and interaction between the characters to move the plot along. NN has been excellent for me in that regard.

And Julie, I'm with you -- it's a delight to be reading a Dickens novel for the first time! Even though I've seen a few adaptations of NN, this is my first reading, and I love that I'm still able to meet new Dickens characters and enjoy a new story.

Tristram wrote: "Might it be of importance that while there was a lot of excitement about the little baby, Mr. Lillyvick apparently exchanged kisses with Miss Petowker?..."

Somehow I missed this little tidbit! Thanks for pointing it out, Tristram. I did get the impression that, while Miss Petowker's role in this chapter was peripheral at best, she may end up being important later on. Something about the way Dickens kept repeating, "Miss Petowker, of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane..." made me think that we're meant to remember her going on.

Has anyone else noticed that social gatherings are danger zones in this novel? Tea with Fanny turns into a cat fight; Noggs takes the punch, causing a rift between Mr. Kenwig and Uncle Lillyvick... and it seems like there was another example that's not coming to me. At any rate, we may want to repair to the Saracen's Head the next time any invitations are issued, to avoid any party drama.

Tristram wrote: "Our narrator very often makes witty and spiteful remarks on the characters we are supposed to dislike – for instance, the following, which really made me laugh out loud..."

Oh, my gosh, Tristram! I was listening to this bit in the car, and busted out laughing at this passage! I love the narrator's commentary. It's almost like having Dickens reading along with us.

Tristram wrote: "The question I asked myself immediately at this point of the story was why Nicholas did not think of Smike for a moment but left Dotheboys Hall without taking the poor boy with him...."

I had this question, also. Dickens answered it to my satisfaction when Smike caught up with Nick on the road:

'I am a friend who can do little for you,' said Nicholas, kindly....
'Poor fellow!' said Nicholas, 'your hard fate denies you any friend
but one, and he is nearly as poor and helpless as yourself.'

But I still think it would have been better if the reader had been privy to some of these thoughts during Nick's flight.

John wrote: "For some reason, I just don't like the name Smike. I keep hearing "smite" in it. It does not work for me and does not match up to the sympathetic character he appears to be. One of the very rare ti..."

I agree, John. I hear "smite" as well as "spike" and "spite" -- none inspires sympathy or compassion. Perhaps there is something in his back story that will eventually help to explain this choice. I believe Smike tells Nicholas he's been with Squeers since he was a baby -- perhaps Squeers gave him that name?

Mary Lou wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Might it be of importance that while there was a lot of excitement about the little baby, Mr. Lillyvick apparently exchanged kisses with Miss Petowker?..."

Somehow I missed this l..."

Hi Mary Lou

I agree with you on two points from your comment. This first is that family gatherings and group events do seem to collapse into confusion. The second, and much more important to me, is your comment about the Saracen’s Head. Anytime I hear Mrs Nickleby is in the vicinity that’s where you will find me hiding in a corner.

Mary Lou wrote: "John wrote: "For some reason, I just don't like the name Smike. I keep hearing "smite" in it. It does not work for me and does not match up to the sympathetic character he appears to be. One of the..."

I hear "strike." Still not auspicious.

I must confess that I always look forward to Mrs. Nickleby's appearances in the novels, which would probably be different if I had to live with Mrs. Nickleby. She is rambling and a strain on anybody's patience, but whereas a lot of the characters seem to be quite stereotypical, e.g. the Squeers, the Kenwigs and also Ralph, Mrs. Nickleby is, to me, like a character one could come across in real life: She may be annoying, but she is definitely not evil or mean.

I also read somewhere that she was partly modelled on Dickens's mother.

Not evil or mean, just hopeless. Best enjoyed at a distance.

That's true, Xan. But then we have the advantage of just skimming over her monologues if they tire us out too much, an advantage denied to the characters in the book.

About the name "Smike", maybe it is, as someone said before, a name that was given to the boy either by Mr. Squeers or by the people who took the boy to Dotheboys Hall. In neither case would the process of name-finding have been guided by the desire to find a name expressing care, affection and the desire for its bearer to do well in life. I just remember how Mr. Bumble gave names to the boys in the orphanage: He had a name ready for every letter of the alphabet - and those names were not very nice, either - and ran them off in alphabetical order.

The name Smike, to me, evokes violence but also the sense of being thrown into the world (because of the German word "schmeißen", which means "to throw, to chuck") and having no real home in it. - Let's hope that Nicholas will be able to undo some of the sufferings that Smike had to go through!

I note that his name is only one letter away from "smile," and I mean one letter: replace the k with the next letter in the alphabet. And see how different it sounds and feels.

I never thought of smile. Interesting. Perhaps some inner negativity won out on my part.

John, There are, I think, two reasons why we don't think "smile." The first is he never does, nor do we when he is present. The second is how the "k" makes the word sound, closer to smite or spike, than smile.

Tristram wrote: "The name Smike, to me, evokes violence but also the sense of being thrown into the world (because of the German word "schmeißen", which means "to throw, to chuck") and having no real home in it.."

Which makes me wonder.... was Dickens fluent in any language other than English?

As for Smike/smile - I think it might not be the first association many of us make because, when pronounced, smile sounds like two syllables.

Mary Lou

Tristram’s comment #27 of this week gives a possible link to how Smike’s name could be linked to German. When Dickens’s sons were growing up a number were sent to Germany for their education. That would, however, be chronologically after his writing of NN so as to Dickens’s early knowledge of German I really don’t know.

Dickens was, however, somewhat conversant in French. He spent time in France travelling and writing. Then, in his later years when he was with Ellen Ternan, he spent even more time in France. He was returning from France to England with Ellen and her mother when the train disaster occurred.

Chapter 13:

Good chapter, constant tension. I have to say, I was not a Nicholas lover like some of you until this chapter. I had wondered if he was all anger and no substance, but now I see he's got some tape, spit, and guts to him. Nice thrashing. Should have paddled good ol' Squeers before leaving, though.

John Browdie. I liked him more this time, and it's interesting how this time I could understand him. Hahahaha. He reminded me a teensy bit of Gabriel in Far From the Madding Crowd. There's no reason why I should make that connection, but that's how my mind works.

Nicholas and Smike, like Dorothy and the scarecrow off to see the wizard in the capital city.

Chapter Problems.

I'm noting a lot of chapters going on longer than they should with narrative that would best be placed elsewhere. This chapter is a good example. To my way of thinking, this chapter should have ended with Nicholas leaving the school. Everything after the fight -- the walking down the road, the meeting of Browdie and Smike -- is anti-climactic to the tension leading up to the fight and the fight itself, and, therefore, best left to the opening of the next chapter. I don't see this kind of "lingering on" in his later books and am wondering if this is lack of experience or something to do with editor or publication demands?

John wrote: "I never thought of smile. Interesting. Perhaps some inner negativity won out on my part."

In my case, it would have been a comination of inner and outer negativity, which can be summarized as grumpiness. ;-)

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Chapter Problems.

I'm noting a lot of chapters going on longer than they should with narrative that would best be placed elsewhere. This chapter is a good example. To my way of thinking, this chapter should have ended with Nicholas leaving the school. Everything after the fight -- the walking down the road, the meeting of Browdie and Smike -- is anti-climactic to the tension leading up to the fight and the fight itself, and, therefore, best left to the opening of the next chapter. I don't see this kind of "lingering on" in his later books and am wondering if this is lack of experience or something to do with editor or publication demands?"

That is a very good point! In fact, I sometimes read on my Kindle, and then I found myself wondering that the chapter would still go on when I thought, "Now this is a capital ending!" I don't know whether Dickens was tied to three or four chapters per instalment and therefore had to continue the narration after a certain climax. I also noticed that in some other chapters, the narrator tends to fall into side-tracks and follow them into the undergrowth of Sketch-Like Writing. To me, it's very obvious that the young Dickens was still under the influence of the episode-structure of Pickwick Papers and the tableaux of Sketches by Boz, which, on the whole, actually makes me enjoy this book quite a lot, seeing how wild it is.

I love the narrator's humor. It does have a personal quality, like it's Dickens himself speaking, not a narrator.

Here is another funny line about Fanny:

‘What do you mean, Phib?’ asked Miss Squeers, looking in her own little glass, where, like most of us, she saw—not herself, but the reflection of some pleasant image in her own brain.

Alissa wrote: "I love the narrator's humor. It does have a personal quality, like it's Dickens himself speaking, not a narrator.

Here is another funny line about Fanny:

‘What do you mean, Phib?’ asked Miss Sque..."

Alissa

Perfect. I missed that completely.

Chapter 14

Well, there's got to be a reason for this chapter. I'm sure we'll find out.

Never have I read a Victorian Era novel in which a meter reader was held in such high esteem.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Never have I read a Victorian Era novel in which a meter reader was held in such high esteem."

Yes, Dickens is well ahead of his time here ;-)

Chapter 15

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing a quick recovery to Whackford Squeers' legs so that he may soon take pen in hand again.

Makes sense -- far more likely that an illiterate schoolmaster will teach his students with a cane than a book.

The way the Kenwigs are expecting an inheritance from Mrs. Kenwig's uncle, they must have paid water-meter-tax-collector-purple-people-eaters well in 19th century England. A Kings ransom.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Chapter 15

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing a quick recovery to Whackford Squeers' legs so that he may soon take pen in hand again..."

Yes, Fanny's letter and her misspellings were pretty funny. You can tell she was educated by her father. Whackford prefers phonics (fonnicks?) over dictionaries.

Alissa wrote: "Fanny's letter and her misspellings were pretty funny. You can tell she was educated by her father. Whackford prefers phonics (fonnicks?) over dictionaries...."

Ralph read this letter. Did it cause him to question Squeers' abilities, and therefore, his honesty and ethics? Hmm.....

I suspect Ralph is wondering how he can use it to pound N.N into the pavement. Secondly, he might be thinking how he can use it against Squeers.

There was a quick and somewhat obscure reference in this last chapter to Newman possibly getting his property back. Perhaps it is nothing more than someone's fancy, but it did make me wonder under what circumstance Noggs lost his wealth and what Ralph might have had to do with his losing it AND if there is any chance Noggs might become reacquainted with his money at Ralph's expense.

Tristram wrote: "John wrote: "I never thought of smile. Interesting. Perhaps some inner negativity won out on my part."

In my case, it would have been a comination of inner and outer negativity, which can be summa..."

I couldn't have said it better.

This letter beginning "Respected Sir" was an answer to a little boy (Master Hastings Hughes), who had written to him as "Nicholas Nickleby" approached completion, stating his views and wishes as to the rewards and punishments to be bestowed on the various characters in the book. The letter was sent to him through the Rev. Thomas Barham, author of "The Ingoldsby Legends."


Master Hastings Hughes.


Doughty Street, London, Dec. 12th, 1838.

Respected Sir,

I have given Squeers one cut on the neck and two on the head, at which he appeared much surprised and began to cry, which, being a cowardly thing, is just what I should have expected from him—wouldn't you?

I have carefully done what you told me in your letter about the lamb and the two "sheeps" for the little boys. They have also had some good ale and porter, and some wine. I am sorry you didn't say what wine you would like them to have. I gave them some sherry, which they liked very much, except one boy, who was a little sick and choked a good deal. He was rather greedy, and that's the truth, and I believe it went the wrong way, which I say served him right, and I hope you will say so too.

Nicholas had his roast lamb, as you said he was to, but he could not eat it all, and says if you do not mind his doing so he should like to have the rest hashed to-morrow with some greens, which he is very fond of, and so am I. He said he did not like to have his porter hot, for he thought it spoilt the flavour, so I let him have it cold. You should have seen him drink it. I thought he never would have left off. I also gave him three pounds of money, all in sixpences, to make it seem more, and he said directly that he should give more than half to his mamma and sister, and divide the rest with poor Smike. And I say he is a good fellow for saying so; and if anybody says he isn't I am ready to fight him whenever they like—there!

Fanny Squeers shall be attended to, depend upon it. Your drawing of her is very like, except that I don't think the hair is quite curly enough. The nose is particularly like hers, and so are the legs. She is a nasty disagreeable thing, and I know it will make her very cross when she sees it; and what I say is that I hope it may. You will say the same I know—at least I think you will.

I meant to have written you a long letter, but I cannot write very fast when I like the person I am writing to, because that makes me think about them, and I like you, and so I tell you. Besides, it is just eight o'clock at night, and I always go to bed at eight o'clock, except when it is my birthday, and then I sit up to supper. So I will not say anything more besides this—and that is my love to you and Neptune; and if you will drink my health every Christmas Day I will drink yours—come.

I am,

Respected Sir,

Your affectionate Friend.

P.S.—I don't write my name very plain, but you know what it is you know, so never mind.

Newman Noggs Leaves the Ladies in the Empty House

Chapter 11

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

Newman appeared not to hear these remarks, but preceded them to a couple of rooms on the first floor, which some kind of attempt had been made to render habitable. In one, were a few chairs, a table, an old hearth-rug, and some faded baize; and a fire was ready laid in the grate. In the other stood an old tent bedstead, and a few scanty articles of chamber furniture.

‘Well, my dear,’ said Mrs. Nickleby, trying to be pleased, ‘now isn’t this thoughtful and considerate of your uncle? Why, we should not have had anything but the bed we bought yesterday, to lie down upon, if it hadn’t been for his thoughtfulness!’

‘Very kind, indeed,’ replied Kate, looking round.

Newman Noggs did not say that he had hunted up the old furniture they saw, from attic and cellar; or that he had taken in the halfpennyworth of milk for tea that stood upon a shelf, or filled the rusty kettle on the hob, or collected the woodchips from the wharf, or begged the coals. But the notion of Ralph Nickleby having directed it to be done, tickled his fancy so much, that he could not refrain from cracking all his ten fingers in succession: at which performance Mrs. Nickleby was rather startled at first, but supposing it to be in some remote manner connected with the gout, did not remark upon.

‘We need detain you no longer, I think,’ said Kate.

‘Is there nothing I can do?’ asked Newman.

‘Nothing, thank you,’ rejoined Miss Nickleby.

‘Perhaps, my dear, Mr. Noggs would like to drink our healths,’ said Mrs Nickleby, fumbling in her reticule for some small coin.

‘I think, mama,’ said Kate hesitating, and remarking Newman’s averted face, ‘you would hurt his feelings if you offered it.’

Newman Noggs, bowing to the young lady more like a gentleman than the miserable wretch he seemed, placed his hand upon his breast, and, pausing for a moment, with the air of a man who struggles to speak but is uncertain what to say, quitted the room.

Commentary:

In each of the two middle plates, Kate is being shown kindness by an occentric but warmhearted person, but in the first Ralph Nickleby lurks in the wings while in the second the threat he represents is suggested in a secondary detail. As in the first his secret watching of Kate is ironically mirrored by a cat watching for a mouse beneath the platform, so in the second there is an actual mouse, which in addition to indicating the shabbiness of the house may symbolize Kate's defenselessness against her uncle's plots. But Ralph's spying on Kate parallels in a general way the companion plate, in which Ralph's co-conspirator Squeers is leading Nicholas into the horrors of Dotheboys Hall. In contrast, the plates with Kate are relatively hopeful, for in the first the two women have found a male ally in Newman Noggs, while in the second Nicholas has taken matters into his own hands.

Nicholas Astonishes Mr. Squeers and Family

Chapter 13

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

Mrs. Squeers, being out of breath with her exertions, complied. Squeers caught the boy firmly in his grip; one desperate cut had fallen on his body—he was wincing from the lash and uttering a scream of pain—it was raised again, and again about to fall—when Nicholas Nickleby, suddenly starting up, cried ‘Stop!’ in a voice that made the rafters ring.

‘Who cried stop?’ said Squeers, turning savagely round.

‘I,’ said Nicholas, stepping forward. ‘This must not go on.’

‘Must not go on!’ cried Squeers, almost in a shriek.

‘No!’ thundered Nicholas.

Aghast and stupefied by the boldness of the interference, Squeers released his hold of Smike, and, falling back a pace or two, gazed upon Nicholas with looks that were positively frightful.

‘I say must not,’ repeated Nicholas, nothing daunted; ‘shall not. I will prevent it.’

Squeers continued to gaze upon him, with his eyes starting out of his head; but astonishment had actually, for the moment, bereft him of speech.

‘You have disregarded all my quiet interference in the miserable lad’s behalf,’ said Nicholas; ‘you have returned no answer to the letter in which I begged forgiveness for him, and offered to be responsible that he would remain quietly here. Don’t blame me for this public interference. You have brought it upon yourself; not I.’

‘Sit down, beggar!’ screamed Squeers, almost beside himself with rage, and seizing Smike as he spoke.

‘Wretch,’ rejoined Nicholas, fiercely, ‘touch him at your peril! I will not stand by, and see it done. My blood is up, and I have the strength of ten such men as you. Look to yourself, for by Heaven I will not spare you, if you drive me on!’

‘Stand back,’ cried Squeers, brandishing his weapon.

‘I have a long series of insults to avenge,’ said Nicholas, flushed with passion; ‘and my indignation is aggravated by the dastardly cruelties practised on helpless infancy in this foul den. Have a care; for if you do raise the devil within me, the consequences shall fall heavily upon your own head!’

He had scarcely spoken, when Squeers, in a violent outbreak of wrath, and with a cry like the howl of a wild beast, spat upon him, and struck him a blow across the face with his instrument of torture, which raised up a bar of livid flesh as it was inflicted. Smarting with the agony of the blow, and concentrating into that one moment all his feelings of rage, scorn, and indignation, Nicholas sprang upon him, wrested the weapon from his hand, and pinning him by the throat, beat the ruffian till he roared for mercy.

The boys—with the exception of Master Squeers, who, coming to his father’s assistance, harassed the enemy in the rear—moved not, hand or foot; but Mrs. Squeers, with many shrieks for aid, hung on to the tail of her partner’s coat, and endeavoured to drag him from his infuriated adversary; while Miss Squeers, who had been peeping through the keyhole in expectation of a very different scene, darted in at the very beginning of the attack, and after launching a shower of inkstands at the usher’s head, beat Nicholas to her heart’s content; animating herself, at every blow, with the recollection of his having refused her proffered love, and thus imparting additional strength to an arm which (as she took after her mother in this respect) was, at no time, one of the weakest.

Commentary:

One grasps Browne's special talents only by considering the first Dotheboys Hall illustration along with its sequel. In the first, Nicholas is seen as simultaneously victim and oppressor: Squeers's stick is held with its point at his breast, so that the master-servant relationship is clear, yet at the same time Nicholas is, spatially, above the pupils, looking down upon them as if in his unwilling collaboration with Squeers he, too, is a "master." In the sequel we find Nicholas down in the boys' midst; he has become their ally against the Squeerses. The composition is of a kind favored by the early Phiz for scenes of violence, comic or real — a whirl of figures around one or two central ones; compare "Mr. Crow well plucked," in Lever's Charles O'Malley, 1840. Nicholas' pose may be somewhat stagy, but nowhere near as much so as Dickens' verbal handling of Nicholas' denunciation of Squeers.

"Wretch," rejoined Nicholas fiercely, "Touch him at your peril!"

Chapter 13

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

‘Have you anything to say?’ demanded Squeers again: giving his right arm two or three flourishes to try its power and suppleness. ‘Stand a little out of the way, Mrs. Squeers, my dear; I’ve hardly got room enough.’

‘Spare me, sir!’ cried Smike.

‘Oh! that’s all, is it?’ said Squeers. ‘Yes, I’ll flog you within an inch of your life, and spare you that.’

‘Ha, ha, ha,’ laughed Mrs. Squeers, ‘that’s a good ‘un!’

‘I was driven to do it,’ said Smike faintly; and casting another imploring look about him.

‘Driven to do it, were you?’ said Squeers. ‘Oh! it wasn’t your fault; it was mine, I suppose—eh?’

‘A nasty, ungrateful, pig-headed, brutish, obstinate, sneaking dog,’ exclaimed Mrs. Squeers, taking Smike’s head under her arm, and administering a cuff at every epithet; ‘what does he mean by that?’

‘Stand aside, my dear,’ replied Squeers. ‘We’ll try and find out.’

Mrs. Squeers, being out of breath with her exertions, complied. Squeers caught the boy firmly in his grip; one desperate cut had fallen on his body—he was wincing from the lash and uttering a scream of pain—it was raised again, and again about to fall—when Nicholas Nickleby, suddenly starting up, cried ‘Stop!’ in a voice that made the rafters ring.

‘Who cried stop?’ said Squeers, turning savagely round.

‘I,’ said Nicholas, stepping forward. ‘This must not go on.’

‘Must not go on!’ cried Squeers, almost in a shriek.

‘No!’ thundered Nicholas.

Aghast and stupefied by the boldness of the interference, Squeers released his hold of Smike, and, falling back a pace or two, gazed upon Nicholas with looks that were positively frightful.

‘I say must not,’ repeated Nicholas, nothing daunted; ‘shall not. I will prevent it.’

Squeers continued to gaze upon him, with his eyes starting out of his head; but astonishment had actually, for the moment, bereft him of speech.

‘You have disregarded all my quiet interference in the miserable lad’s behalf,’ said Nicholas; ‘you have returned no answer to the letter in which I begged forgiveness for him, and offered to be responsible that he would remain quietly here. Don’t blame me for this public interference. You have brought it upon yourself; not I.’

‘Sit down, beggar!’ screamed Squeers, almost beside himself with rage, and seizing Smike as he spoke.

‘Wretch,’ rejoined Nicholas, fiercely, ‘touch him at your peril! I will not stand by, and see it done. My blood is up, and I have the strength of ten such men as you. Look to yourself, for by Heaven I will not spare you, if you drive me on!’

"I can-not help it, and it don't signify," sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs.

Chapter 14

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

Very well and very fast the supper went off; no more serious difficulties occurring, than those which arose from the incessant demand for clean knives and forks; which made poor Mrs. Kenwigs wish, more than once, that private society adopted the principle of schools, and required that every guest should bring his own knife, fork, and spoon; which doubtless would be a great accommodation in many cases, and to no one more so than to the lady and gentleman of the house, especially if the school principle were carried out to the full extent, and the articles were expected, as a matter of delicacy, not to be taken away again.

Everybody having eaten everything, the table was cleared in a most alarming hurry, and with great noise; and the spirits, whereat the eyes of Newman Noggs glistened, being arranged in order, with water both hot and cold, the party composed themselves for conviviality; Mr. Lillyvick being stationed in a large armchair by the fireside, and the four little Kenwigses disposed on a small form in front of the company with their flaxen tails towards them, and their faces to the fire; an arrangement which was no sooner perfected, than Mrs. Kenwigs was overpowered by the feelings of a mother, and fell upon the left shoulder of Mr. Kenwigs dissolved in tears.

‘They are so beautiful!’ said Mrs. Kenwigs, sobbing.

‘Oh, dear,’ said all the ladies, ‘so they are! it’s very natural you should feel proud of that; but don’t give way, don’t.’

‘I can—not help it, and it don’t signify,’ sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs; ‘oh! they’re too beautiful to live, much too beautiful!’

On hearing this alarming presentiment of their being doomed to an early death in the flower of their infancy, all four little girls raised a hideous cry, and burying their heads in their mother’s lap simultaneously, screamed until the eight flaxen tails vibrated again; Mrs. Kenwigs meanwhile clasping them alternately to her bosom, with attitudes expressive of distraction, which Miss Petowker herself might have copied.