The Old Curiosity Club discussion

Dear Fellow Curiosities,

This week, we are going to be witness to how Nicholas gets his family into another fine mess because he is so short-fused and headstrong. We will also see Mr. Ralph Nickleby, the only responsible member of the Nickleby family, receive some visitors we already know, one of them being an especially dear companion to us. Last but not least, there will be a new scene of action, or rather inaction with the advent of the Cheeryble brothers.

Chapter 31 starts in Ralph Nickleby’s office, where we find the proprietor trying to work but also clearly occupied with slight, very slight qualms concerning the treatment of his niece. Let’s listen in on his monologue for a few seconds:

”’I am not a man to be moved by a pretty face,’ muttered Ralph sternly. ‘There is a grinning skull beneath it, and men like me who look and work below the surface see that, and not its delicate covering. And yet I almost like the girl, or should if she had been less proudly and squeamishly brought up. If the boy were drowned or hanged, and the mother dead, this house should be her home. I wish they were, with all my soul.’”

May we see this as a sign that after all, there is some tender spot in Ralph’s heart of hearts? Not too tender, to be sure, because his wishes as to the future of the brother and the mother do not betray a lot of empathy even for the object of his ‘tenderness’, but still … unlike the villains in Oliver Twist, Ralph is not completely hard.

Do you think that the ambiguity in his character will lead to his changing his course of action? And how do you like his awareness of there being a “grinning skull” beneath every “pretty face”? I must confess that I quite liked that notion because it made me think of how easily we are sometimes influenced in everyday life. Is it a token of cleverness not to be influenced by prettiness and to consider the caducity of things in life, or does this mean we lose many an opportunity of enjoyment and serenity? And then – Ralph is very clear about the memento mori when it comes to good looks, but he does not seem to realize that his strife for money is equally vain in that light, does he?

And still, he gives in to reveries about what his home would look like if Kate were to live with him. Only, however, at the petty expense of Nicholas and his mother’s lives. Typically Ralph!

When Ralph notices that he is being observed by Newman, he has one of their wry arguments with him and then sends him away on an errand. Newman uses this mission not only to partake of some refreshment in the form of a beer but also to pay a visit to Miss La Creevy as the other person who takes a genuine, and benevolent interest in the Nickleby family. He informs her that Nicholas is on his way to London but that he, Newman, has news of such importance and unpleasantness to tell him that it must be feared that Nicholas, upon hearing them, will immediately rush to his uncle to have it out with him. Therefore, Newman and Miss La Creevy think of a way to avoid telling Nicholas the story of his sister’s being used as a stool pigeon for Lord Verisopht too early: Newman will simply not be in when Nicholas arrives, and Miss La Creevy will take Mrs. Nickleby to the theatre.

QUESTIONS
What is the logic behind this plan? Why is it important that Nicholas do not know of his uncle’s mean plans immediately after his arrival? Will he react any more sensibly and less aggressively when he is told the story the following morning? – I just don’t see the point of Newman’s strategy.

Did you notice that we are getting some more information on Miss La Creevy? That she has a brother, who is happily married and has a little family, and that she has the opportunity of going to the countryside to live with them all? Is this a kind of foreshadowing that soon there will be no Miss La Creevy in London the Nicklebys can look out to for help? What do you think of Miss La Creevy’s way of explaining that she had not heard for such a long time of her brother?

And then, let’s take a look at Newman Noggs: We saw him swinging his fists in the direction of Ralph’s office door once, and here he is talking of “spoiling” his employer’s features one of these days – so much so that poor Miss La Creevy is quite distraught. Will Noggs really come down on Ralph eventually – what do you think? And what is your opinion on Noggs’ actually working against the interests of the man he is employed by? Do you think his course of action disloyal, or is Ralph such an out-and-out villain that he can lay no claim to loyalty in that he would hardly ever show any?

Moving on to Chapter 32, we are going to face a situation that has stuck with me ever since I first read the novel in my teenage years: Arriving in the metropolis and not finding Noggs at home – but an ever-officious Mr. Crowl, who is ready to treat Nicholas and Smike (and himself, into the bargain) at Noggs’s expense, Nicholas soon wants to have a talk with his mother and so he leaves the small flat. Not finding Mrs. Nickleby in, though, he decides – for whatever reason – to have a glass of wine at an expensive hotel because he has not eaten or drunk for a long time during the day. Our narrator puts it this way:

”He had taken scarcely any thing to eat or drink since early in the morning, and felt quite worn out and exhausted. As he returned languidly towards the point from which he had started, along one of the thoroughfares which lie between Park Lane and Bond Street, he passed a handsome hotel, before which he stopped mechanically.

‘An expensive place, I dare say,’ thought Nicholas; ‘but a pint of wine and a biscuit are no great debauch wherever they are had. And yet I don't know.’

He walked on a few steps, but looking wistfully down the long vista of gas-lamps before him, and thinking how long it would take to reach the end of it—and being besides in that kind of mood in which a man is most disposed to yield to his first impulse—and being, besides, strongly attracted to the hotel, in part by curiosity, and in part by some odd mixture of feelings which he would have been troubled to define—Nicholas turned back again, and walked into the coffee-room.”

I don’t know what you think but to me, this turn looks very unlikely, indeed. First of all, that Nicholas should happen to come across the very place where he is going to encounter Sir Mulberry Hawk, is hard to believe, but I can still put it down to one of our typical Dickensian coincidences. What is harder to believe, however, is that Nicholas, who has to turn every penny twice, simply marches into a hotel to have some wine and biscuits. Of course, wine is more expensive in a place like that, and one does not have to be Einstein in order to know this. But then, maybe, this is one typical example of Nicholas’s inability to look after his money and his affairs, his will to play the gentleman, after all. What do you think?

Be that as it may, once inside, he witnesses a conversation between Mulberry Hawk, Lord Verisopht and the sycophantic Pluck and Pyke in the course of which his sister’s name is mentioned in a very disrespectful and insinuating way – so much so that even our narrator refrains from being more specific –, and Nicholas is so indignant at this public slight that he challenges Sir Mulberry to a duel, leaving his card – but no other great impression, one must say. For Sir Mulberry does not deign to accept the challenge, not even giving his name or address but simply letting Nicholas seethe in his own anger. Lord Verisopht is not exactly pleased with the behaviour of his friend but he cannot induce him to alter his course of action and takes his leave, after a while. Hawk, albeit, enjoys his claret and then puts on his coat, all in due course and so slowly as to provoke Nicholas even more. At the end, Nicholas grasps the rein of the horses in order to force Hawk to own up to his name, but a quarrel ensues in the course of which Nicholas wrests the nobleman’s whip from him, beats him and then lets go of the coach, the frightened horses of which cause a serious accident with Hawk on board. Nicholas then deems it best to betake himself home.

Now, is this not another instance of Nicholas’s impatience and big-headedness? Would it not have been better to inquire of the waiter what the speaker’s name was, or simply to follow him in order to find out where he lives – but not giving him notice of the fact that Kate’s brother has arrived in town? Nicholas now got more than he bargained for: Will he not even have to face legal consequences because of this coach accident that he has actually caused by his interference?

As to Sir Mulberry Hawk, what do you think of his assessment of Kate in the light of her uncle’s business dealings?

”’The jade […] She's a true Nickleby—a worthy imitator of her old uncle Ralph—she hangs back to be more sought after—so does he; nothing to be got out of Ralph unless you follow him up, and then the money comes doubly welcome, and the bargain doubly hard, for you're impatient and he isn't. Oh! infernal cunning.’”

Granted, it’s enough to make one’s blood boil, but still would it not have been wiser of Nicholas to keep his own counsel and wait?

I was really impressed by the narrator’s description of London when our friends first make their way into the city: It seems to be quite clear that the point behind the description is to show that those who are rich are often blissfully (?) unaware of the plights of other not so lucky as themselves. There are really moving contrasts like these:

”The rags of the squalid ballad-singer fluttered in the rich light that showed the goldsmith's treasures, pale and pinched-up faces hovered about the windows where was tempting food, hungry eyes wandered over the profusion guarded by one thin sheet of brittle glass—an iron wall to them; half-naked shivering figures stopped to gaze at Chinese shawls and golden stuffs of India. There was a christening party at the largest coffin-maker's, and a funeral hatchment had stopped some great improvements in the bravest mansion. Life and death went hand in hand; wealth and poverty stood side by side; repletion and starvation laid them down together.”

In a way, these words summarize a lot of the problems many of our characters experience on the pages of this boisterous novel.

And boisterously we are going to move on to the next chapter, which is more of a mopping-up enterprise in that it gives us information on the consequences of what is described with a lot of effect in the preceding chapter. By the way, it has been pointed out by one Curiosity at least that in NN, Dickens still has difficulty not outwriting a chapter, e.g. when he allows things to go on and on after the climax of the chapter has been reached. In Chapter 32, at least, this has not been the case – so that Chapter 33 has to act as a mere sequel to its more illustrious predecessor.

Here is what happens in Chapter 33: Newman Noggs and Smike are staying awake in order to receive Nicholas when he is coming home. Newman is very dismayed at finding Nicholas in such a dishevelled state, even with blood trickling down his lips. He tries to dress Nicholas’s wounds, but the young hotspur insists on first knowing what news Newman has bidden him come to London for, saying that from what has gone on he can already guess quite a lot. Newman’s complying, Nicholas plans to get his mother and sister out of his uncle’s range of influence. One of the first things for him to do is go to the Wititterlys in order to terminate his sister’s employment at their place. He does this at short notice, which means – as Mr. W. points up, doubtless happy to save the money in question – that the quarter’s payment will be forfeited. The next thing on his list is to get his mother out of the house owned by his uncle, and for this he needs Miss La Creevy’s help because he knows of no other place for his family members to stay.

QUESTIONS
Is it very considerate, and fair, for Nicholas to rely on Miss La Creevy with regard to accommodation for his family? It is probably for a short time only, but still, Miss La Creevy herself is not too well off.

Another thing is the way in which he makes his sister cancel her employment with the Wititterlys. He does not even stop to ask his sister’s opinion in earnest but just tells her she has to leave immediately. And all with high pathos on both sides. The Nickleby siblings are probably really born for the stage because they cannot stand still for a moment but have to deliver pompous speeches, growing red and pale in alternation. Apart from that, Nicholas has not been there but for a few hours, and he already takes it upon himself to decide where his mother has to reside – or rather, where not – and where his sister has to go. Is this not a bit rash, and hysterical?

Then there is the letter which he makes haste to write to his uncle and have delivered by the trusty Newman. It reads like this:

”’You are known to me now. There are no reproaches I could heap upon your head which would carry with them one thousandth part of the grovelling shame that this assurance will awaken even in your breast.

‘Your brother's widow and her orphan child spurn the shelter of your roof, and shun you with disgust and loathing. Your kindred renounce you, for they know no shame but the ties of blood which bind them in name with you.

‘You are an old man, and I leave you to the grave. May every recollection of your life cling to your false heart, and cast their darkness on your death-bed.’”

What do you think: Is it sensible of Nicholas to burn all bridges at this moment?

Chapter 34 is one of this week’s highlights because it not only offers us some more insight into the workings of Ralph Nickleby’s mind – sometimes, I think he is the only Nickleby family member whose mind is working to some effect, after all, with the exception of Kate –, but it also reintroduces onto the stage of this memorable history one character whom we have lost sight of lately and for whom it is twice as difficult to keep sight of us, considering that he has only one eye.

The chapter starts with Mr Mantalini vociferously claiming admission to Ralph’s office, whose owner still is in a thoughtful attitude apparently brought about by the repeated reading of Nicholas’s letter.

QUESTION
What does it mean that Ralph has given another reading to his nephew’s letter? Does this look promising in the sense that by and by, the uncle’s heart is going to be moved by the reproaches, or can we expect that the spirit of resistance within young Nicholas will make his uncle all the angrier? The fact that Mr. Mantalini detects “quite a bloom” on Ralph’s “demd countenance” can mean both that the uncle is embarrassed and enraged.

Mr. Mantalini is coming on a business matter, business consisting for him in any way of getting some money from Ralph without having to work for it. This time, he brings some bills of exchange – we later learn from his wife that he has practically stolen them out of her desk – worth 75 Pounds for which Ralph, after some pointless haggling, gives him 50 Pounds. No sooner have they concluded this shady business deal than Madame Mantalini arrives, in a fluster and with the firm intention of putting Mr. Mantalini on an allowance of 120 Pounds a year. Mr. Mantalini is horrified by this prospect, and wagering on the effect of his whiskers and his other “advantages” he again goes through the suicide routine, thus by and by mollifying his spouse. At the end of the performance, the allowance question, although not being completely dismissed, is, for the time being, postponed.

What do you think of the Mantalinis? Are they as annoying to you as they seem to be to Ralph Nickleby? Just consider Mr. Mantalini calling himself a “popolorum tibby” (whatever that is) or using exquisite imagery like: “She, who coils her fascinations round me like a pure angelic rattlesnake!”

Before the Mantalinis leave, Mr. Mantalini informs Ralph of what happened to Sir Mulberry Hawk and Nicholas. While the former is severely injured, the latter – to Ralph’s chagrin – is comparatively unscathed. What their parting conversation shows is the quite unsettling certainty that Ralph is definitely keen on seeing his nephew in his grave. Brrr, one shudders to think so.

For all Ralph’s meanness, or maybe because of it, he gives a pretty clear account of why Madame Mantalini is so head over heels in love with her husband:

”’all love—bah! that I should use the cant of boys and girls—is fleeting enough; though that which has its sole root in the admiration of a whiskered face like that of yonder baboon, perhaps lasts the longest, as it originates in the greater blindness and is fed by vanity. Meantime the fools bring grist to my mill, so let them live out their day, and the longer it is, the better.’”

Do you think this vanity-fed kind of love can also be found in other relationships we come across on the pages of NN?

Ralph’s next visitor is our old acquaintance Mr. Squeers, who has come to London with little Wackford, whom he uses as a living advertisement to unsuspecting parents as to how liberal the diet in Dotheboys Hall is. This aspect, especially Mr. Squeers’s praise of little Wackford’s fatness, his desire that he should keep himself so and not lose any weight through playing too wildly, and his scheme of getting some small change out of Ralph to buy a pie for his son – all these are genuine fun elements of the chapter. Likewise is Squeers’s way of getting the parents of the boys to pay for his doctor’s bill – although this is only fun as long as it is fiction: The Squeerses simply sent some children to a family where there was the scarlet fever to catch it; then Mr. Squeers’s costs were simply divided among the five boys who had to be treated for the scarlet fever, and the parents were none the wiser about what they were paying for.

There is also quite a telling quotation about Mr. Squeers’s mercenary mindset:

”’I don't suppose there's a man going, as possesses the fondness for youth that I do. There's youth to the amount of eight hundred pound a-year at Dotheboys Hall at this present time. I'd take sixteen hundred pound worth if L could get 'em, and be as fond of every individual twenty pound among 'em as nothing should equal it!’”

Mr. Squeers is actually in town because of some legal business and since he wants to attract new customers, but one of the reasons is also that he wants to stick his head together with Ralph about young Nickleby – a fact that Ralph must be well aware of because even tries to increase Mr. Squeers’s desire for vengeance. Ralph wants to know more information about Smike – but gets little beyond that he was taken to Dotheboys Hall fourteen years ago when he was six, and that for seven years or so, the bills were meticulously paid –, because he has already come to the conclusion that the safest and most efficient way for him to strike at Nicholas is to strike through Smike.

QUESTION
Striking through Smike at Nicholas, striking through Kate at Lord Verisopht – is there no end to Ralph’s schemes? And is everyone around him a means to an end? – What could he possibly do to Smike in order to hurt and upset Nicholas?

When Squeers leaves, we get another good example of Newman’s wit:

”’Pretty well swelled out, an't he?’ pursued Squeers. ‘He has the fatness of twenty boys, he has.’

‘Ah!’ replied Newman, suddenly thrusting his face into that of Squeers, ‘he has;—the fatness of twenty!—more. He's got it all. God help the others. Ha! ha! Oh Lord!’”

When Ralph is left alone in his office he falls back upon his musings, and thinks about how people used to compare him with his brother when they were young, the comparisons usually ending in favour of the brother and not of Ralph. He also admits to himself that Nicholas reminds him a lot of his father. – Have we found the reason why Ralph hates his nephew so much? And does this motive make Ralph a realistic literary character, adding depth and dimension?

Funny quotation:
“’Look at them tears, sir,’ said Squeers, with a triumphant air, as Master Wackford wiped his eyes with the cuff of his jacket, ‘there’s oiliness!’”

Any other suggestions for a funny quotation?


Chapter 35 can be summarized more quickly: On the one hand, we witness how Smike is brought into contact with the Nickleby ladies, and as we can imagine, Kate is infinitely more tactful and caring than her mother – but it must be said that a silent word from Kate also has some influence on her mother eventually.

It has repeatedly been said that Mrs. Nickleby hardly affords any amusement to most Curiosities, but I must beg to differ. I quite like her rambling, off-handed, and pointless style, and in this chapter we get a gem of what it can amount to:

”’[…] I have heard her say, often and often, that when she was a young lady, and before she was married, she was turning a corner into Oxford-street one day, when she ran against her own hair-dresser, who, it seems, was escaping from a bear;—the mere suddenness of the encounter made her faint away directly. Wait, though,’ added Mrs. Nickleby, pausing to consider, ‘Let me be sure I'm right. Was it her hair-dresser who had escaped from a bear, or was it a bear who had escaped from her hair-dresser's? I declare I can't remember just now, but the hair-dresser was a very handsome man, I know, and quite a gentleman in his manners; so that it has nothing to do with the point of the story.’”

In this chapter, there are some more examples of the lady’s wonderful style, and I must say that she sometimes reminds me of a more benevolent and less grating version of George Costanza’s mum.

There is a moving conversation between Nicholas and Smike just before they visit the other family members, and it becomes clear that Smike is thinking about his death as the only event that makes him become like all other people, him who is so different:

”’In the churchyard we are all alike, but here there are none like me. I am a poor creature, but I know that.’”

What do you think about these words? They did chill me, actually.

The rest of the chapter can be put into a nutshell, which is what I’d prefer to do because frankly speaking, the Cheeryble brothers are not exactly to my liking as literary characters because they are an example of those naïve and chubby old gentlemen that Dickens is so fond of putting in his Christmas tales. Suffice it to say that the Cheeryble brothers decide to employ Nicholas as an assistant to their employee Tom Linkinwater after Brother Charles has met Nicholas at the agency where our hero once before looked for a job. Nicholas is to receive 120 Pounds a year – which is the exact amount of money Mr. Mantalini would have got for doing nothing but which still made him wish to be “a body”. There is most certainly a difference between 120 Pounds a year and 5 Pounds, and if I were better at arithmetics, I would try to calculate the yearly amount Nick would have cashed in on as Mr. Gregsbury’s secretary. I think, however, that the Cheeryble deal is the best he has come across so far, all the more so since it includes accommodation at a modest rent for himself and his family. In other words, Nicholas is now able to live with his mother and sister, and to relieve Miss La Creevy of Mrs. Nickleby’s presence.

Tristram wrote: "Dear Fellow Curiosities,

This week, we are going to be witness to how Nicholas gets his family into another fine mess because he is so short-fused and headstrong. We will also see Mr. Ralph Nickle..."

Tristram

I was interested to see the quotation you provided concerning Ralph “not to be moved by a pretty face ... . .there is a grinning skull beneath it, and men like me who look and work below the surface see that ...”. Here Ralph discusses not being taken in by surface qualities. Earlier, Alissa and others have remarked on the use of clothing in the novel and how one can often judge a character by the clothing they wear, or by the way others respond to or interact with someone because of the way the other person is dressed.

Appearance versus reality seems to be at work in this novel to a great extent. For example, most people dismiss Newman Noggs because of his clothing. His outward appearance speaks of a drunkard, a man with little self-worth, a person to be ignored at best or simply dismissed. The same goes for Smike. Miss La Creevy sees others change clothes so they appear to be more than they are in her portraits. Mantalini wants to be seen parading around on a horse rather than insuring his wife’s dressmaking shop is successful. Kate’s attractiveness both secures her position as a person to model clothes at Mantalini’s and ultimately gets her dismissed.

Dickens seems to be asking his readers to be cautious when making assumptions about a person just by the way they first present themselves. What is beneath the outward appearance is more important than what the surface speaks.

Ralph Nickleby’s apparent flickering attention and finding Kate attractive clashes with his comment on how his use of Kate for a business transaction is not any more calculating than many parents who marry off their daughter for financial reasons rather than encouraging a daughter to marry for love.

Ralph Nickleby is certainly avaricious and driven to make money. Dickens makes him, however, more than a simple villain. Was it from feelings of guilt and obligation to his brother that he initially helped Mrs Nickleby, Kate, and Nicholas? As Julie mentioned earlier, when Ralph Nickleby puts Kate in a carriage after the disastrous dinner party at his home he saw in Kate her father’s, and thus Ralph’s brother’s likeness, in her face and hair. That must indicate some level of guilt and conscious feeling on his part.

Whether Dickens will turn Ralph into a more likeable character remains to be seen. I think it fair to say, however, that there are nuances in his character that in some ways make him more than a simple stock melodramatic villain.

We're at the point in the novel where tenuous connections are starting to appear, and causing me to wonder how Dickens will bring all of these disparate characters together (hopefully better than he did it in Twist!).

So far, we have Lillyvick connected to London by his relations, the Kenwigs, and also to the acting troupe through his bride, Miss Petowker. Worlds colliding.

Ralph is connected with all the shady characters - Squeers, Mantalini, Hawk, etc - and brings his relations into their orbit.

Noggs lives with the Kenwigs and works for Ralph, so he's well entrenched in several of the circles, even though he's more of a quiet observer than a participant. The invisible servant who knows where all the bodies are buried. :-)

We don't know what they are yet, but surely Smike has connections outside Dotheboys that will eventually be revealed.

I'm looking forward to these threads coming together, and my greatest hope is that Ralph will, at some point, be subjected to the company of the theater troupe, specifically the Infant Phenomenon. I'd pay good money to see that!

(Aside: Have you seen The Philadelphia Story? When I think about the Phenomenon, I picture Katharine Hepburn's younger sister, when she's flitting about the house putting on a show for the reporters.)

Mary Lou wrote: "We're at the point in the novel where tenuous connections are starting to appear, and causing me to wonder how Dickens will bring all of these disparate characters together (hopefully better than h..."

Mary Lou

Yes. There is much to look forward to and as the novel progresses we will see many of the separate threads being pulled together and knotted. You would make a good detective.

Tristram wrote: "Here is what happens in Chapter 33: Newman Noggs and Smike are staying awake in order to receive Nicholas when he is coming home. Newman is very dismayed at finding Nicholas in such a dishevelled s..."

Tristram

I’m with you regarding your comments about Nicholas. He is all jagged edges. I am having difficulty warming up to his personality. Yes, he and Kate do speak as if they are in a melodrama - and perhaps they are - but I like Kate. She has spunk and a more mature pride in herself. Also, anyone who could live with Mrs Nickleby deserves some degree of sympathy. :-))

Your question about Nicholas burning too many bridges too soon made me think. On the one hand, it is best to cut people like Ralph Nickleby off from influencing your family as soon as possible. On the other hand, can Nicholas be sure that he can carry the full responsibility of his family and control his over-active passions?

Tristram wrote: "What is the logic behind this plan? Why is it important that Nicholas do not know of his uncle’s mean plans immediately after his arrival? Will he react any more sensibly and less aggressively when he is told the story the following morning? – I just don’t see the point of Newman’s strategy."

I give him credit for caring and trying to avoid disaster, but I agree, the plan was not a good one. Newman had just written to Nicholas, "Come back immediately! You're needed now!" which put Nicholas in a state of anxiety, so playing coy with him and prolonging his anxiety even more doesn't make sense. Had Newman been there to welcome Nick and explain the news sensibly, he could have calmed Nick down and planned with him their next moves.

Dickens's coincidences tend to stretch credibility, but I like this one with the hotel. Nicholas is described as having a strange attraction towards the hotel, an intuitive hunch that even he can't explain. This gave the story a numinous feel, similar to the scene with the landlord who talked him into staying, where Mr. Crummles just happened to wait to give him a job.

Had the narrator not described this strange attraction and Nicholas questioning whether or not he should follow it, I don't think the hotel coincidence would have worked as well. Had Nicholas just walked in without thinking, the coincidence would have seemed too cheap and gimmicky, rather than the numinous twist of fate that it was.

Alissa wrote: "Dickens's coincidences tend to stretch credibility, but I like this one with the hotel. Nicholas is described as having a strange attraction towards the hotel, an intuitive hunch that even he can't..."

It is interesting to see how differently certain details work on different readers, Alissa :-) In my case, it was exactly that numinous attraction Nicholas seems to be feeling for the place that grated on me. First of all, he is not in the position to spend a lot of money on wine in an expensive place, and then he feels some kind of irresistible force draw him to that very place? When I read that, I could picture Dickens sitting in his study, gnawing at the upper end of his pen and cudgelling his brain how he could make Nicholas enter that very place - and the irresistible impulse was the best he could come up with ...

Now, why not have Nicholas enter a more shabby tavern and find the profligates there? Would Sir Mulberry and his friends not from time to time frequent the lower taverns, too, in their quest for thrills and entertainment?

Peter wrote: "Ralph Nickleby is certainly avaricious and driven to make money. Dickens makes him, however, more than a simple villain. Was it from feelings of guilt and obligation to his brother that he initially helped Mrs Nickleby, Kate, and Nicholas? "

Yes, he is definitely influenced by the memories of his deceased brother, but I am not so sure whether this redounds to the Nicklebys' advantage. When Ralph is musing in his study after Squeers and little Wackford have left, his reminiscences of his brother are tinged with bitterness as to how often comparisons between the two brothers made by other people turned out to his own disfavour as being the less outgoing, open-minded and liberal of the two. Nicholas is probably the spitting image of his father, if not in looks, probably in character, and probably this contributes to enraging Ralph to a degree that seems strange in an otherwise so calculating, cold-blooded man. In hurting Nicholas, he might feel he could somehow get even with his brother?

Tristram wrote: "Peter wrote: "Ralph Nickleby is certainly avaricious and driven to make money. Dickens makes him, however, more than a simple villain. Was it from feelings of guilt and obligation to his brother th..."

Yes. I think you are right. Ralph has a long memory and it would not surprise me in the least that his actions towards Nicholas are re-directed from his dislike for his brother.

Tristram wrote: "Dear Fellow Curiosities,

This week, we are going to be witness to how Nicholas gets his family into another fine mess because he is so short-fused and headstrong. We will also see Mr. Ralph Nickle..."

Grump.

Tristram wrote: "When I read that, I could picture Dickens sitting in his study, gnawing at the upper end of his pen and cudgelling his brain how he could make Nicholas enter that very place - and the irresistible impulse was the best he could come up with ......"

All he had to do was tell the reader that Nick's bladder was full, and this inn had the closest bathroom. :-)

Tristram wrote: "Granted, it’s enough to make one’s blood boil, but still would it not have been wiser of Nicholas to keep his own counsel and wait?"

Yes, it would have been wiser to wait. What are the chances if I were Nicholas, knowing me as you do, that I would have kept quiet and waited? None. Not any chance at all. This guy would have had all that wine I just bought, which I wouldn't have because I hate wine, all over him. I would give no thought at all to what may happen because of what I did because I'd be too busy doing it. I could go hit the guy on the head with a wine bottle now just thinking of it this long. Some time ago we had a pastor at our church that I could not stand, he wasn't thrilled with me either thankfully. I used to sit there listening to him say things like women shouldn't talk in church or Santa Claus was really Satan Claus and I used to dream about that baptism pool, or whatever the thing is called, behind him was actually under him, far, far under him. Down on the lower level of the building and every time he made me mad I'd push a button, the floor would open, and he would end up in the pool. I would never have given a thought to what happened next. :-)

Kim wrote: "every time he made me mad I'd push a button, the floor would open, and he would end up in the pool. I would never have given a thought to what happened next...."

Yikes. All the grumps in the group better watch out - you don't want to get on Kim's bad side! ;-)

Tristram wrote: "As to Sir Mulberry Hawk, what do you think of his assessment of Kate in the light of her uncle’s business dealings?"

I think I still have a wine bottle in my hand.

Mary Lou wrote: "Kim wrote: "every time he made me mad I'd push a button, the floor would open, and he would end up in the pool. I would never have given a thought to what happened next...."

Yikes. All the grumps ..."

All our members should be safe, unless Sir Mulberry joins that is. :-)

Lashing himself up to an extraordinary pitch of fury, Newman Noggs jerked himself about the room with the most ecentric motion ever beheld in a human being.

Chapter 31

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

‘About Miss Nickleby—’ said Newman.

‘Why, she was here twice while I was away,’ returned Miss La Creevy. ‘I was afraid she mightn’t like to have me calling on her among those great folks in what’s-its-name Place, so I thought I’d wait a day or two, and if I didn’t see her, write.’

‘Ah!’ exclaimed Newman, cracking his fingers.

‘However, I want to hear all the news about them from you,’ said Miss La Creevy. ‘How is the old rough and tough monster of Golden Square? Well, of course; such people always are. I don’t mean how is he in health, but how is he going on: how is he behaving himself?’

‘Damn him!’ cried Newman, dashing his cherished hat on the floor; ‘like a false hound.’

‘Gracious, Mr. Noggs, you quite terrify me!’ exclaimed Miss La Creevy, turning pale.

‘I should have spoilt his features yesterday afternoon if I could have afforded it,’ said Newman, moving restlessly about, and shaking his fist at a portrait of Mr. Canning over the mantelpiece. ‘I was very near it. I was obliged to put my hands in my pockets, and keep ‘em there very tight. I shall do it some day in that little back-parlour, I know I shall. I should have done it before now, if I hadn’t been afraid of making bad worse. I shall double-lock myself in with him and have it out before I die, I’m quite certain of it.’

‘I shall scream if you don’t compose yourself, Mr. Noggs,’ said Miss La Creevy; ‘I’m sure I shan’t be able to help it.’

‘Never mind,’ rejoined Newman, darting violently to and fro. ‘He’s coming up tonight: I wrote to tell him. He little thinks I know; he little thinks I care. Cunning scoundrel! he don’t think that. Not he, not he. Never mind, I’ll thwart him—I, Newman Noggs. Ho, ho, the rascal!’

Lashing himself up to an extravagant pitch of fury, Newman Noggs jerked himself about the room with the most eccentric motion ever beheld in a human being: now sparring at the little miniatures on the wall, and now giving himself violent thumps on the head, as if to heighten the delusion, until he sank down in his former seat quite breathless and exhausted.

‘There,’ said Newman, picking up his hat; ‘that’s done me good. Now I’m better, and I’ll tell you all about it.’

It took some little time to reassure Miss La Creevy, who had been almost frightened out of her senses by this remarkable demonstration; but that done, Newman faithfully related all that had passed in the interview between Kate and her uncle, prefacing his narrative with a statement of his previous suspicions on the subject, and his reasons for forming them; and concluding with a communication of the step he had taken in secretly writing to Nicholas.

Though little Miss La Creevy’s indignation was not so singularly displayed as Newman’s, it was scarcely inferior in violence and intensity. Indeed, if Ralph Nickleby had happened to make his appearance in the room at that moment, there is some doubt whether he would not have found Miss La Creevy a more dangerous opponent than even Newman Noggs himself.

Nicholas Attracted by the Mention of His Sister's Name in the Coffee-Room

Chapter 32

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

This person—so Nicholas observed in the same glance at the mirror which had enabled him to see his face—was standing with his back to the fire conversing with a younger man, who stood with his back to the company, wore his hat, and was adjusting his shirt-collar by the aid of the glass. They spoke in whispers, now and then bursting into a loud laugh, but Nicholas could catch no repetition of the words, nor anything sounding at all like the words, which had attracted his attention.

At length the two resumed their seats, and more wine being ordered, the party grew louder in their mirth. Still there was no reference made to anybody with whom he was acquainted, and Nicholas became persuaded that his excited fancy had either imagined the sounds altogether, or converted some other words into the name which had been so much in his thoughts.

‘It is remarkable too,’ thought Nicholas: ‘if it had been “Kate” or “Kate Nickleby,” I should not have been so much surprised: but “little Kate Nickleby!”’

The wine coming at the moment prevented his finishing the sentence. He swallowed a glassful and took up the paper again. At that instant—

‘Little Kate Nickleby!’ cried the voice behind him.

"Little Kate Nickleby!" cried a voice behind him.

"I was right," muttered Nicholas as the paper fell from his hand. "And it was the man I supposed.

As there was a proper objection to drinking her in heeltaps," said the voice, "we'll give her the first glass in the new magnum. Little Kate Nickleby!"

"Little Kate Nickleby," cried the other three. And the glasses were set down empty.

Keenly alive to the tone and manner of this slight and careless mention of his sister's name in a public place, Nicholas fired at once; but he kept himself quiet by a great effort, and did not even turn his head.

‘The jade!’ said the same voice which had spoken before. ‘She’s a true Nickleby—a worthy imitator of her old uncle Ralph—she hangs back to be more sought after—so does he; nothing to be got out of Ralph unless you follow him up, and then the money comes doubly welcome, and the bargain doubly hard, for you’re impatient and he isn’t. Oh! infernal cunning.’

‘Infernal cunning,’ echoed two voices.

Nicholas was in a perfect agony as the two elderly gentlemen opposite, rose one after the other and went away, lest they should be the means of his losing one word of what was said. But the conversation was suspended as they withdrew, and resumed with even greater freedom when they had left the room.

‘I am afraid,’ said the younger gentleman, ‘that the old woman has grown jea-a-lous, and locked her up. Upon my soul it looks like it.’

‘If they quarrel and little Nickleby goes home to her mother, so much the better,’ said the first. ‘I can do anything with the old lady. She’ll believe anything I tell her.’

‘Egad that’s true,’ returned the other voice. ‘Ha, ha, ha! Poor deyvle!’

The laugh was taken up by the two voices which always came in together, and became general at Mrs. Nickleby’s expense. Nicholas turned burning hot with rage, but he commanded himself for the moment, and waited to hear more.

What he heard need not be repeated here. Suffice it that as the wine went round he heard enough to acquaint him with the characters and designs of those whose conversation he overhead; to possess him with the full extent of Ralph’s villainy, and the real reason of his own presence being required in London. He heard all this and more. He heard his sister’s sufferings derided, and her virtuous conduct jeered at and brutally misconstrued; he heard her name bandied from mouth to mouth, and herself made the subject of coarse and insolent wagers, free speech, and licentious jesting.


Commentary:

The stranger who is taking liberties with Kate's name in the luxurious hotel near Hyde Park is none other than Sir Mulberry Hawk. Although he restrains himself in order to follow their conversation about his family, Nicholas at last can bear no more and challenges him, demanding to know the stranger's name. Phiz has captured well Nicholas's indignation and suggests the looseness of the other two young men's conversation and morality by their postures (center). The dissipation of Sir Mulberry's company is emphasized by the third roisterer seated behind Nicholas, whose paper still lies spread out before him. Phiz depicts that moment at which Nicholas, unable to restrain himself any longer, is about to rise to defend his sister's honor.

The visual structure of "Nicholas attracted by the mention Of his Sister's name in the Coffee Room" (ch. 32) is such that the vicious noblemen seem to be triumphant, for they occupy the center and top of the design, while Nicholas is far below them. Dickens describes the room as having been decorated with the "choicest specimens of French paper, enriched with a gilded cornice of elegant design" (ch. 32), but Browne's interpretation adds a new dimension not directly stated in the text. The wallpapers in the etching depict what look like Arabian Nights scenes, although no particular tales can be identified. The implication is that these members of the upper classes inhabit a world of voluptuousness and vicious make-believe, a world opposed and eventually defeated in the novel by the morally responsible middle classes. But there is a more specific comment in the right-hand detail, which shows one man reverently bowed down before an imperious standing figure; since they are before a castle, and their positions parallel those of Hawk and Nicholas, the lower orders' proper attitude towards the nobility (from the upper-class point of view) is suggested. Nicholas, of course, is about to rise up and challenge Sir Mulberry and to scar his face, so that the detail on the wall is clearly sardonic.

Sir Mulberry, shortening his whip, applied it furiously to the head and shoulders of Nicholas.

Chapter 32

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

There was a private cabriolet in waiting; the groom opened the apron, and jumped out to the horse’s head.

‘Will you make yourself known to me?’ asked Nicholas in a suppressed voice.

‘No,’ replied the other fiercely, and confirming the refusal with an oath. ‘No.’

‘If you trust to your horse’s speed, you will find yourself mistaken,’ said Nicholas. ‘I will accompany you. By Heaven I will, if I hang on to the foot-board.’

‘You shall be horsewhipped if you do,’ returned Sir Mulberry.

‘You are a villain,’ said Nicholas.

‘You are an errand-boy for aught I know,’ said Sir Mulberry Hawk.

‘I am the son of a country gentleman,’ returned Nicholas, ‘your equal in birth and education, and your superior I trust in everything besides. I tell you again, Miss Nickleby is my sister. Will you or will you not answer for your unmanly and brutal conduct?’

‘To a proper champion—yes. To you—no,’ returned Sir Mulberry, taking the reins in his hand. ‘Stand out of the way, dog. William, let go her head.’

‘You had better not,’ cried Nicholas, springing on the step as Sir Mulberry jumped in, and catching at the reins. ‘He has no command over the horse, mind. You shall not go—you shall not, I swear—till you have told me who you are.’

The groom hesitated, for the mare, who was a high-spirited animal and thorough-bred, plunged so violently that he could scarcely hold her.

‘Leave go, I tell you!’ thundered his master.

The man obeyed. The animal reared and plunged as though it would dash the carriage into a thousand pieces, but Nicholas, blind to all sense of danger, and conscious of nothing but his fury, still maintained his place and his hold upon the reins.

‘Will you unclasp your hand?’

‘Will you tell me who you are?’

‘No!’

‘No!’

In less time than the quickest tongue could tell it, these words were exchanged, and Sir Mulberry shortening his whip, applied it furiously to the head and shoulders of Nicholas. It was broken in the struggle; Nicholas gained the heavy handle, and with it laid open one side of his antagonist’s face from the eye to the lip. He saw the gash; knew that the mare had darted off at a wild mad gallop; a hundred lights danced in his eyes, and he felt himself flung violently upon the ground.

He was giddy and sick, but staggered to his feet directly, roused by the loud shouts of the men who were tearing up the street, and screaming to those ahead to clear the way. He was conscious of a torrent of people rushing quickly by—looking up, could discern the cabriolet whirled along the foot-pavement with frightful rapidity—then heard a loud cry, the smashing of some heavy body, and the breaking of glass—and then the crowd closed in in the distance, and he could see or hear no more.

The general attention had been entirely directed from himself to the person in the carriage, and he was quite alone. Rightly judging that under such circumstances it would be madness to follow, he turned down a bye-street in search of the nearest coach-stand, finding after a minute or two that he was reeling like a drunken man, and aware for the first time of a stream of blood that was trickling down his face and breast.

Mr. and Mrs. Mantalini in Ralph Nickleby's Office

Chapter 34

Phiz

Text Illustrated:

Mr. Mantalini waited, with much decorum, to hear the amount of the proposed stipend, but when it reached his ears, he cast his hat and cane upon the floor, and drawing out his pocket-handkerchief, gave vent to his feelings in a dismal moan.

"Demnition!" cried Mr, Mantalini, suddenly skipping out of his chair, and as suddenly skipping into it again, to the great discomposure of his lady's nerves. "But no. It is a demd horrid dream. It is not reality. No!"

Comforting himself with this assurance, Mr. Mantalini closed his eyes and waited patiently till such time as he should wake up.

‘A very judicious arrangement,’ observed Ralph with a sneer, ‘if your husband will keep within it, ma’am—as no doubt he will.’

‘Demmit!’ exclaimed Mr. Mantalini, opening his eyes at the sound of Ralph’s voice, ‘it is a horrid reality. She is sitting there before me. There is the graceful outline of her form; it cannot be mistaken—there is nothing like it. The two countesses had no outlines at all, and the dowager’s was a demd outline. Why is she so excruciatingly beautiful that I cannot be angry with her, even now?’

‘You have brought it upon yourself, Alfred,’ returned Madame Mantalini—still reproachfully, but in a softened tone.

‘I am a demd villain!’ cried Mr. Mantalini, smiting himself on the head. ‘I will fill my pockets with change for a sovereign in halfpence and drown myself in the Thames; but I will not be angry with her, even then, for I will put a note in the twopenny-post as I go along, to tell her where the body is. She will be a lovely widow. I shall be a body. Some handsome women will cry; she will laugh demnebly.’

‘Alfred, you cruel, cruel creature,’ said Madame Mantalini, sobbing at the dreadful picture.

‘She calls me cruel—me—me—who for her sake will become a demd, damp, moist, unpleasant body!’ exclaimed Mr. Mantalini.

‘You know it almost breaks my heart, even to hear you talk of such a thing,’ replied Madame Mantalini.

‘Can I live to be mistrusted?’ cried her husband. ‘Have I cut my heart into a demd extraordinary number of little pieces, and given them all away, one after another, to the same little engrossing demnition captivater, and can I live to be suspected by her? Demmit, no I can’t.’

‘Ask Mr. Nickleby whether the sum I have mentioned is not a proper one,’ reasoned Madame Mantalini.

‘I don’t want any sum,’ replied her disconsolate husband; ‘I shall require no demd allowance. I will be a body.’

On this repetition of Mr. Mantalini’s fatal threat, Madame Mantalini wrung her hands, and implored the interference of Ralph Nickleby; and after a great quantity of tears and talking, and several attempts on the part of Mr. Mantalini to reach the door, preparatory to straightway committing violence upon himself, that gentleman was prevailed upon, with difficulty, to promise that he wouldn’t be a body. This great point attained, Madame Mantalini argued the question of the allowance, and Mr. Mantalini did the same, taking occasion to show that he could live with uncommon satisfaction upon bread and water, and go clad in rags, but that he could not support existence with the additional burden of being mistrusted by the object of his most devoted and disinterested affection. This brought fresh tears into Madame Mantalini’s eyes, which having just begun to open to some few of the demerits of Mr. Mantalini, were only open a very little way, and could be easily closed again. The result was, that without quite giving up the allowance question, Madame Mantalini, postponed its further consideration; and Ralph saw, clearly enough, that Mr. Mantalini had gained a fresh lease of his easy life, and that, for some time longer at all events, his degradation and downfall were postponed.

Commentary:

The slapstick domestic comedy of the Mantalinis combines with the melodramatic plot involving the wealthy Ralph Nickleby, from whom they hope to borrow enough money to regain control over the dress-making business from Miss Knag. Ralph learns through the Mantalinis of Nicholas's having confronted Sir Mulberry Hawk to defend his sister's honor. The moment realized, then, should be that in which the operatically overwrought Mantalini bewails his fate, his hat and cane lying upon the floor exactly as described in the letterpress. Already, however, Ralph has begun to respond to Mrs. Manatalini, who leans forward, about to implore Ralph's assistance. Phiz shows Newmann Noggs (upper right), overhearing the conversation.

"Look at them tears, sir!" said Squeers with a triumphant air, as Master Wackford wiped his eyes with the cuff of his jacket.

Chapter 34

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

‘Why, this is a surprise!’ said Ralph, bending his gaze upon the visitor, and half smiling as he scrutinised him attentively; ‘I should know your face, Mr. Squeers.’

‘Ah!’ replied that worthy, ‘and you’d have know’d it better, sir, if it hadn’t been for all that I’ve been a-going through. Just lift that little boy off the tall stool in the back-office, and tell him to come in here, will you, my man?’ said Squeers, addressing himself to Newman. ‘Oh, he’s lifted his-self off. My son, sir, little Wackford. What do you think of him, sir, for a specimen of the Dotheboys Hall feeding? Ain’t he fit to bust out of his clothes, and start the seams, and make the very buttons fly off with his fatness? Here’s flesh!’ cried Squeers, turning the boy about, and indenting the plumpest parts of his figure with divers pokes and punches, to the great discomposure of his son and heir. ‘Here’s firmness, here’s solidness! Why you can hardly get up enough of him between your finger and thumb to pinch him anywheres.’

In however good condition Master Squeers might have been, he certainly did not present this remarkable compactness of person, for on his father’s closing his finger and thumb in illustration of his remark, he uttered a sharp cry, and rubbed the place in the most natural manner possible.

‘Well,’ remarked Squeers, a little disconcerted, ‘I had him there; but that’s because we breakfasted early this morning, and he hasn’t had his lunch yet. Why you couldn’t shut a bit of him in a door, when he’s had his dinner. Look at them tears, sir,’ said Squeers, with a triumphant air, as Master Wackford wiped his eyes with the cuff of his jacket, ‘there’s oiliness!’

‘He looks well, indeed,’ returned Ralph, who, for some purposes of his own, seemed desirous to conciliate the schoolmaster. ‘But how is Mrs Squeers, and how are you?’

‘Mrs. Squeers, sir,’ replied the proprietor of Dotheboys, ‘is as she always is—a mother to them lads, and a blessing, and a comfort, and a joy to all them as knows her. One of our boys—gorging his-self with vittles, and then turning in; that’s their way—got a abscess on him last week. To see how she operated upon him with a pen-knife! Oh Lor!’ said Squeers, heaving a sigh, and nodding his head a great many times, ‘what a member of society that woman is!’

Mr. Squeers indulged in a retrospective look, for some quarter of a minute, as if this allusion to his lady’s excellences had naturally led his mind to the peaceful village of Dotheboys near Greta Bridge in Yorkshire; and then looked at Ralph, as if waiting for him to say something.

"My son, sir, little Wackford. What do you think of him, sir?"

Chapter 34

Sir John Gilbert

1861

Frontispiece to the third volume of Dickens's The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, in the W. A. Townsend (New York) Household Edition (1861-71).

Text Illustrated:

"Why, this is a surprise!" said Ralph [Nickleby], bending his gaze upon the visitor, and half smiling as he scrutinised him attentively; "I should know your face, Mr. Squeers."

"Ah!" replied that worthy, "and you'd have know'd it better, sir, if it hadn't been for all that I've been a-going through. Just lift that little boy off the tall stool in the back-office, and tell him to come in here, will you, my man?" said Squeers, addressing himself to Newman. "Oh, he's lifted his-self off. My son, sir, little Wackford. What do you think of him, sir, for a specimen of the Dotheboys Hall feeding? Ain't he fit to bust out of his clothes, and start the seams, and make the very buttons fly off with his fatness? Here's flesh!" cried Squeers, turning the boy about, and indenting the plumpest parts of his figure with divers pokes and punches, to the great discomposure of his son and heir. "Here's firmness, here's solidness! Why you can hardly get up enough of him between your finger and thumb to pinch him anywheres."

In however good condition Master Squeers might have been, he certainly did not present this remarkable compactness of person, for on his father's closing his finger and thumb in illustration of his remark, he uttered a sharp cry, and rubbed the place in the most natural manner possible.

"Well," remarked Squeers, a little disconcerted, "I had him there; but that's because we breakfasted early this morning, and he hasn't had his lunch yet. Why you couldn't shut a bit of him in a door, when he's had his dinner. Look at them tears, sir," said Squeers, with a triumphant air, as Master Wackford wiped his eyes with the cuff of his jacket, 'there's oiliness!"

"He looks well, indeed," returned Ralph . . . — Vol. 3, Chapter 34, "Wherein Mr. Ralph Nickleby is visited by Persons with whom the Reader has been already made acquainted." [Part Eleven: February 1839]

Commentary:

"This illustration reverts to the scenes and characters in the earliest part of the novel. The passage and illustration are significant in cementing the connection between Nicholas's evil uncle and the Yorkshire schoolmaster, Nicholas's former employer. Squeers reveals that Nicholas has abducted Smike.

Sir John Gilbert provided sporadic relief for the series' principal illustrator, Felix Octavius Carr Darley, typically providing a frontispiece for the third volume in a four-volume set. His task here was a little easier in that he did not have to provide visual continuity with any of Darley's previous frontispieces; however, like Darley, he had to take into account the images of the characters established by Hablot Knight Browne in the original serial. Thus, although Ralph Nickleby and Wackford Squeers are more realistically drawn, their images approximately conform to the molds established by Phiz in The Yorkshire Schoolmaster at The Saracen's Head. Although Gilbert avoids the extremes of caricature so obvious in the earlier illustrations, his characters lack Phiz's visual humour — and his Squeers is rather more heavy set, even if the counting-house of the moneylender is economically and effectively realized.

Night found him, at last, still harping on the same theme

Chapter 34

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

In exact proportion as Ralph Nickleby became conscious of a struggling and lingering regard for Kate, had his detestation of Nicholas augmented. It might be, that to atone for the weakness of inclining to any one person, he held it necessary to hate some other more intensely than before; but such had been the course of his feelings. And now, to be defied and spurned, to be held up to her in the worst and most repulsive colours, to know that she was taught to hate and despise him: to feel that there was infection in his touch, and taint in his companionship—to know all this, and to know that the mover of it all was that same boyish poor relation who had twitted him in their very first interview, and openly bearded and braved him since, wrought his quiet and stealthy malignity to such a pitch, that there was scarcely anything he would not have hazarded to gratify it, if he could have seen his way to some immediate retaliation.

But, fortunately for Nicholas, Ralph Nickleby did not; and although he cast about all that day, and kept a corner of his brain working on the one anxious subject through all the round of schemes and business that came with it, night found him at last, still harping on the same theme, and still pursuing the same unprofitable reflections.

‘When my brother was such as he,’ said Ralph, ‘the first comparisons were drawn between us—always in my disfavour. he was open, liberal, gallant, gay; I a crafty hunks of cold and stagnant blood, with no passion but love of saving, and no spirit beyond a thirst for gain. I recollected it well when I first saw this whipster; but I remember it better now.’

He had been occupied in tearing Nicholas’s letter into atoms; and as he spoke, he scattered it in a tiny shower about him.

‘Recollections like these,’ pursued Ralph, with a bitter smile, ‘flock upon me—when I resign myself to them—in crowds, and from countless quarters. As a portion of the world affect to despise the power of money, I must try and show them what it is.’

And being, by this time, in a pleasant frame of mind for slumber, Ralph Nickleby went to bed.

"I'm not coming an hour later in the morning, you know," said Tim, breaking out all at once, and looking very resolute.

Chapter 35

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

‘Tim,’ said brother Charles, ‘you understand that we have an intention of taking this young gentleman into the counting-house?’

Brother Ned remarked that Tim was aware of that intention, and quite approved of it; and Tim having nodded, and said he did, drew himself up and looked particularly fat, and very important. After which, there was a profound silence.

‘I’m not coming an hour later in the morning, you know,’ said Tim, breaking out all at once, and looking very resolute. ‘I’m not going to sleep in the fresh air; no, nor I’m not going into the country either. A pretty thing at this time of day, certainly. Pho!’

‘Damn your obstinacy, Tim Linkinwater,’ said brother Charles, looking at him without the faintest spark of anger, and with a countenance radiant with attachment to the old clerk. ‘Damn your obstinacy, Tim Linkinwater, what do you mean, sir?’

‘It’s forty-four year,’ said Tim, making a calculation in the air with his pen, and drawing an imaginary line before he cast it up, ‘forty-four year, next May, since I first kept the books of Cheeryble, Brothers. I’ve opened the safe every morning all that time (Sundays excepted) as the clock struck nine, and gone over the house every night at half-past ten (except on Foreign Post nights, and then twenty minutes before twelve) to see the doors fastened, and the fires out. I’ve never slept out of the back-attic one single night. There’s the same mignonette box in the middle of the window, and the same four flower-pots, two on each side, that I brought with me when I first came. There an’t—I’ve said it again and again, and I’ll maintain it—there an’t such a square as this in the world. I know there an’t,’ said Tim, with sudden energy, and looking sternly about him. ‘Not one. For business or pleasure, in summer-time or winter—I don’t care which—there’s nothing like it. There’s not such a spring in England as the pump under the archway. There’s not such a view in England as the view out of my window; I’ve seen it every morning before I shaved, and I ought to know something about it. I have slept in that room,’ added Tim, sinking his voice a little, ‘for four-and-forty year; and if it wasn’t inconvenient, and didn’t interfere with business, I should request leave to die there.’

Kate Greenaway to John Ruskin

April 22, 1897.

I am very fond of Nicholas Nickleby. No one has liked Dickens for so long, but I think I begin to see a little turn coming now. Of course in time it would be sure to come, but it is a certain fate to every one after a time, and then another thing sets in and they take their rank for ever....

Letter to John Ruskin (sketch of Kate Nickleby). Greenaway and Ruskin had a long and warm correspondence. In a letter to Ruskin of 22 April Kate Greenaway says, "I am very fond of Nicholas Nickleby, and here she sketches Nickleby's sister Kate for him.

Tristram wrote: "It is interesting to see how differently certain details work on different readers, Alissa :-) In my case, it was exactly that numinous attraction Nicholas seems to be feeling for the place that grated on me..."

I have a personal interest in intuition, so I enjoy it when Dickens writes about these experiences. :-) You're right, though. He could have used a shabby tavern as a backdrop, not a hotel. The way Hawk and his buddies conduct themselves, I'm surprised they don't get thrown out of hotels.

Chapter 31

This chapter triggered something in my mind about Ralph. Ralph thinks to himself that he wouldn't mind coming home to Kate every day if not for her pride. Pride. Ralph has a problem with prideful people. Kate. Nicholas. His business victims: Verisopht, Mr. Mantalini, possibly Hawkes. He uses them and destroys them. Perhaps this is a reaction to how he was received by the many, especially the wealthy and snobbish, who would have stuck their nose up or shunned him for the business he is in?

Noggs and La Creevy together. Yes!!!

Noggs has a paralytic limb? Did I miss that before?

Noggs and La Creevy are sure worried about what Nicholas, a 19-year-old without any standing, might do. I guess they both realize he has a temper that gets the better of him.

Chapter 32

Two points about this chapter. The first has been mentioned by others: the coincidences are adding up. Nicholas for some unknown reason has an urge to enter a hotel, and upon doing so overhears Hawk, Verisopht, and others having a good laugh at his sister's expense. More than one coincidence is never helpful to a novel, and this has to be at least the 3rd or 4th. A sign of an immature writer? Or is this what happens when you chain episodes together and need to manufacture some connection between them?

Second, Nicholas justifies his confrontation with Hawkes by declaring he is of the same class and social status as he. This says something about the role and importance of class in Victorian England. People have the right to challenge those of the same class when insulted, but have no right to do so if insulted by someone from a "better" class.

You see this in other ways to. For example, an individual from a wealthy or aristocratic class making an accusation to the police about someone of a lower class is automatically believed. Arrests are made on nothing more.

Kim wrote: ""I'm not coming an hour later in the morning, you know," said Tim, breaking out all at once, and looking very resolute.

Chapter 35

Fred Barnard

Household Edition

Text Illustrated:

‘Tim,’ said ..."

I think we should put these words of Tim into our minds. Who knows what may occur before the novel ends. :-))

Kim wrote: "Kate Greenaway to John Ruskin

April 22, 1897.

I am very fond of Nicholas Nickleby. No one has liked Dickens for so long, but I think I begin to see a little turn coming now. Of course in time it ..."

Kim

What a wonderful association letter, and one with a Greenway illustration as well. I love it. Thank you for finding and posting. I, for one, always enjoy how Dickens weaves in an out of different contexts.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "Chapter 32

Two points about this chapter. The first has been mentioned by others: the coincidences are adding up. Nicholas for some unknown reason has an urge to enter a hotel, and upon doing so o..."

Hi Xan

Dickens does love his coincidences. Certainly they help bind bits of the plot together and they keep the plot moving forward. At times, to me at least, the coincidences seem to tumble about even more frequently as we near the end of a novel. I’ve never thought about whether there are more coincidences in his earlier novels than his later novels. If I was to offer a wild guess I would say yes.

As to your comments about the class and social status you are on to something important. Yes, a down at the heals person, such as Nicholas, because he has a social status, can act in ways with some impunity that a lower class person could not. It will be interesting to see if any other incidences of this structure appear in the novel.

Mary Lou wrote: "Tristram wrote: "When I read that, I could picture Dickens sitting in his study, gnawing at the upper end of his pen and cudgelling his brain how he could make Nicholas enter that very place - and ..."

Touché! I wonder why the old writers never hit on that idea ...

Kim wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Granted, it’s enough to make one’s blood boil, but still would it not have been wiser of Nicholas to keep his own counsel and wait?"

Yes, it would have been wiser to wait. What ar..."

That man sounds like a terrible person - actually like Reverend Stiggins from PP (only without the drinking but with a lot of hypocrisy and the tendency to use religion as a tool of making people feel bad and worried instead of calm and serene). The thing that works best for me when faced with people I don't like and who don't like me (which shows a lack of proper judgment on their side) is to use sarcasm or to ignore them completely. It's much better for one's own blood pressure and it tends to make those people even madder ;-)

Now, in the case of Nicholas and Sir Mulberry, it would have been cleverer to keep one's counsel first and to collect some information on Sir Mulberry, and then to send him a formal challenge instead of making a scene in a restaurant, but I have the feeling that Nick likes scenes because he is an actor.

Xan Shadowflutter wrote: "More than one coincidence is never helpful to a novel, and this has to be at least the 3rd or 4th. A sign of an immature writer? Or is this what happens when you chain episodes together and need to manufacture some connection between them?"

I'd tend to say that these coincidences follow upon each other's heels because both Dickens was yet inexperienced as a writer of longer novels - Pickwick Papers was a picaresque novel, linking more or less unrelated episodes through a set of characters, and Oliver Twist is even more dependent on coincidence than our present adventure - and because the mode of writing and the speed at which he worked (writing on several texts simultaneously) did not allow him a lot of plotting in advance.

On the other hand, even in his more mature novels, coincidence will play a role here and there. Maybe, it is also to do with how Dickens saw life and the role coincidences play in it?

Fred Barnard seems to take Mr. Linkinwater for another Mr. Pickwick (cf. the illustration in post 27), which already half-reconciles me to the rather boring Linkinwater-character.

I really like Barnard's drawing of Ralph sitting alone in his study, giving himself up to his dark, mean and bitter thoughts. The little string with the loop at its end, which is attached to the blinds in order to help them shut, and which is directly above Ralph's head, seems to betray some ill-will on the artist's part with regard to our respectable friend Ralph, though ;-)

He does look like Mr. Pickwick doesn't he? I thought the same thing.

I enjoyed the scene where Miss La Creevy and Newman Noggs were comically punching the air to vent their anger. I think Dickens gave them a touch of silliness, because they are the fairy godparents of Nicholas and Kate. They are in the world, but not quite part of it, trying to earn their wings, or something.

Kim wrote: "Tristram wrote: "Granted, it’s enough to make one’s blood boil, but still would it not have been wiser of Nicholas to keep his own counsel and wait?"

Yes, it would have been wiser to wait. What ar..."

Kim, your baptismal pool confession makes me feel a little better about that fact that I like Ralph best when he is fantasizing about how he could have Kate live with him if only Nicholas would be drowned/hanged and Mrs. N die. I kind of hope the reason I find this section so funny isn't that I find it relatable.

Honestly, though, I don't want to see Ralph re-habbed in this book. I still can't forgive how he treats Kate and it's even worse because he does like her.

Mary Lou wrote: "We're at the point in the novel where tenuous connections are starting to appear, and causing me to wonder how Dickens will bring all of these disparate characters together (hopefully better than h..."

Yes to the younger sister in The Philadelphia Story as an infant phenomenon!

I volunteer in my 3rd-grader's classroom and Wednesday when I went in, one of the girls came up to me, introduced herself, and delivered a clearly-enunciated lecture on how my son was truly a delightful child (I think she actually said "delightful child") who cared about others, something so rare in other children his age--and then she twirled around and disappeared before I could stammer out wasn't she also a child of his age?

Infant phenomena are everywhere, I guess.

Peter wrote: "Kim wrote: "Kate Greenaway to John Ruskin

April 22, 1897.

I am very fond of Nicholas Nickleby. No one has liked Dickens for so long, but I think I begin to see a little turn coming now. Of course..."

I love this one, too. Thanks, Kim!

Tristram wrote: "and because the mode of writing and the speed at which he worked (writing on several texts simultaneously) did not allow him a lot of plotting in advance.."

It's funny, one thing that has surprised me about this book is that what with Nicholas and Kate both young and single and attractive and generally virtuous even if one of them has a temper, neither has a romance going yet. There was that one hint of one in the gentlewoman with the maid in the employment office, and so when Nicholas went back to the employment office I thought it would be so he could meet her again, but instead he meets Cheeryble.

So, picking up on Tristram's point about there being not much time to plot in advance, I wonder if Dickens did mean the gentlewoman in the employment office to go somewhere, and then forgot about her, or just decided he was more interested in the theater and Ralph and let her disappear and not come back. Maybe some threads don't get sloppily tied together in the end because they're just not memorable enough to require it.

Julie wrote: "Tristram wrote: "and because the mode of writing and the speed at which he worked (writing on several texts simultaneously) did not allow him a lot of plotting in advance.."

It's funny, one thing ..."

Julie

Hmmm ... Dickens may be listening. :-))

Peter wrote: "Julie wrote: "Tristram wrote: "and because the mode of writing and the speed at which he worked (writing on several texts simultaneously) did not allow him a lot of plotting in advance.."

It's fun..."

oh no...

Julie wrote: "Infant phenomena are everywhere, I guess."

That's a riot, Julie! How on Earth do you keep a straight face?

Julie wrote: "...with Nicholas and Kate both young and single...neither has a romance going yet."

"There was that one hint of one in the gentlewoman with the maid in the employment office..."

I would have sworn that maid would come back into the plot, too, Julie. Maybe she still will, although it's looking less likely.

Your comment about neither of them being in relationships got me wondering about their past lives. It's interesting that the family seems to have lived in a bubble prior to Nick, Sr.'s death and coming to London. Had they no friends in their past to whom they could reach out for help or support (financial or emotional)? If Dickens needs a deus ex machina to help this family when the climax comes, having an old friend come out of the woodwork would be a legitimate (but unsatisfying) way to manage it.

Mary Lou wrote:

That's a riot, Julie! How on Earth do you keep a straight face?"

It isn't easy!

Kim wrote: "He does look like Mr. Pickwick doesn't he? I thought the same thing."

So, we agree again!!!