Dickensians! discussion

Our first short group read for 2021 is The Signalman (sometimes written as The Signal-Man) by Charles Dickens, which will be led by France-Andrée.

Reading and discussion begins on January 1st, and lasts for two weeks.

First, I want to wish you all a Happy New Year! I know 2020 brought some challenges, but on the bright side, I had never participated in groups on Goodreads before and having all of you guys made my year great, so thank you to all and here we go with our first read of 2021.

No. 1 Branch Line. The Signalman

Introduction


David Hitchcock, 2016 for a comics written by Jason Cobley.

The Signalman was first published in the Christmas number of All the Year Round in 1866. The number was called Mugby Junction. The narrator of our short story calls himself Barbox Brothers after the firm for which he worked until retirement; he is now exploring the world he was kept from in his working days. Through the number our narrator (also called The Gentleman from Nowhere) experiences a change of heart towards the world, but The Signalman is quite early in the number so we don’t see the changes. Charles Dickens wrote the introduction to Mugby Junction: Barbox Brothers, Barbox Brother & Co, Main Line: The Boy at Mugby and The Signalman; the other contributions were from other writers.

Summary

The narrator calls a greeting to a signalman below him instead of looking up the signalman looks down the line when he looks to the narrator, the latter asks him if he can come and talk to him. A train passes before the narrator gets an answer, the signalman tells him of a path to descend. The signalman has thick eyebrows and a beard, his post was in as solitary and dismal a place as ever I saw. On either side, a dripping-wet wall of jagged stone, excluding all view but a strip of sky; the perspective one way, only a crooked prolongation of this great dungeon; the shorter perspective in the other direction, terminating in a gloomy red light, and the gloomier entrance to a black tunnel, in whose massive architecture there was a barbarous, depressing, and forbidding air. So little sunlight ever found its way to this spot, that it had an earthy deadly smell; and so much cold wind rushed through it, that it struck chill to me, as if I had left the natural world.

The conversation is hard to start for the narrator, the signalman is not very responsive. The signalman explains that he thought he had seen the narrator before in the tunnel, the narrator tells him that he never was there, and the signalman decides that he can trust him. The signalman explains his duties and what he does in the long hours of waiting like trying to learn a new language and different things. The narrator wants to know if his interlocutor must stay always in this dismal place when he works, he doesn’t but it’s not the relief the narrator imagined.

The interior of the hut is cozy. The narrator thinks that the signalman was educated for better things, the signalman says that might be true, but he was wild when young and squandered his opportunities. While they are talking, the signalman does continue his work answering the telegraph or a little bell even going outside to flag a train. The narrator thinks the man is diligent, but he wonders why when the bell isn’t ringing, the signalman goes through the motion like it was.

The narrator tells the signalman that he looks like a contented man, the man tells him he used to be but now he is troubled, but the story is too long, so the narrator tells him he will see him on his next shift. The signalman shows the narrator the way to the top but asks him not to call out when he has reached it, the signalman will show the white light until the narrator finds the path. The signalman insists that no calling out should be heard when the narrator comes back either, it seems strange to the narrator.

On the next night, the narrator is punctual to the eleven o’clock they had agreed on. The signalman tells him that the night before he took the narrator for someone else, the someone who troubles him.


By Edward Dalziel, 1866

The signalman has seen the strange man with his left arm before his face and waving his right arm. It looks like someone violently asking for the way to be cleared. The first time the signalman saw the man, he heard: “Halloa! Below there! Look out!, he responded by asking the man what was going on, but when the signalman tried to touch him the man disappeared. The narrator thinks that the man went into the tunnel, the signalman went into it and there was no one, the stranger just vanished. The signalman telegraphed to his colleagues, but everything was normal. The narrator tries to explain to the signalman how he was deceived by his own senses, the signalman interrupts him, he has not finished his story… Six hours after the apparition a wreck happened on the line and the wounded and dead were brought out through the tunnel where the stranger had stood!

The narrator is still convinced that this is all imagination and coincidences. He does not believe any supernatural event has happened. He is told again that he is interrupting, the signalman is not finished.

The wreck was a year ago and the signalman had recovered from the shock of it when, about six months ago, he saw the figure again. The spectre was silent, but he had both his hands before his face. The signalman did not go to the stranger this time, he went inside, the narrator asks if something happened. The signalman tells him that when a train went through later that day, he saw strange movements in one of the carriages; he had the train stopped and a young woman had died.

The signalman is worried now because the spectre came back a week earlier and nothing has happened yet. The figure is doing the same has the first time it appeared, the “clear the way” gestures. The man has been screaming at the signalman more than once and the bell has been ringing, the narrator tells him that he is imagining the bell ringing more that when the station is communicating with the signalman; he saw when he first visited that the signalman was responding to an imaginary bell ringing. The signalman tells him that the phantom bell ring does not have the same sound has the actual ringing of the bell. The narrator asked if the figure was there when the phantom bell rang, and the signalman says that he was so the narrator asks if they can look for him now. The specter is not there and that confirms the narrator in his mind that it’s not real.

The narrator is surprised that the signalman still believes. The signalman is worried about what the figure is warning him about this time around. He can’t telegraph his colleagues because he doesn’t know what the danger is, and he would loose his post. The poor man doesn’t understand why he gets warnings that do not tell him enough to prevent things, he wonders if the first two events were to show him the reality of the warnings and it’s the third event that he can truly prevent. He is frustrated by having so little information from the stranger.

The narrator calms him down, telling him that for now he must concentrate on his duties. The narrator leaves the signalman to complete his shift. The narrator wonders what he should do about the situation, he fears that the signalman’s is losing his mind and that might have grave repercussions to the safety of the public. He decides that his best course if to bring the signalman to see a doctor and that is why he goes to see the signalman the next time he is on duty.

The next evening, the narrator sees from the top a man that looks exactly like the spectre, but he realizes that this is a man and he is not alone. The narrator sees a new little hut made of tarpaulin and that worries him. He asks the man what is going on, he is told that the signalman was killed in the morning. The narrator recognizes the signalman he was talking to in the dead man and asks what happened.

The signalman was on the line and turning his back to the train, they tried to warn the signalman away, but he did not respond to the whistle of the train or the man screaming at him. The narrator asks what the man screamed; it was Below there! Look out! Look out! For God’s sake clear the way!, the narrator starts at that. The man trying to save the signalman’s life, tried by gesturing with his arms, but nothing worked.

The narrator doesn’t want to think too much about what happened but cannot forget the phrase the signalman had told him he heard and the gestures that were, in the narrator’s mind, attached to those words.

Comments:

From the beginning, there is a certain atmosphere. It’s interesting that the narrator and the signalman are not sure if they are talking to a real person or a specter.

After our read of A Christmas Carol where the ghosts can change the future through Ebenezer Scrooge, we get a story where the supernatural cannot influence the present at all. I wonder if there is an actual haunting, is it possible that the signalman is tapping in the future without knowing it? The man he sees might be the one that talks at the end of the story. Not sure if this theory works with the second incident, but might the man of the end put his hands in his face after the signalman’s death? It doesn’t change that the signalman was having some sort of vision, precognition or an actual haunting.

This was written a year after Charles Dickens was in his train wreck at Staplehurst, some of the fear of technology not being stoppable in its ravages might come from this traumatizing experience. Maybe the signalman’s feelings of not being able to change the future might be an echo of Charles Dickens wanting to do more at the time though he did save people and was heroic, he might also have felt regretful not to have been able to help those that died.

9 June 1865

I enjoyed The Signalman: A Ghost Story. It was an ominous ghost story, building up to a climax. The signalman knew he was being warned that a third dangerous event was going to happen after his experience with the first two events. I wonder if the third event would have happened if the signalman's mind wasn't on the spectre. He would have been concentrating on the train instead. Was the spectre trying to be helpful, or was it partially the cause of the accident? I love stories like this that can be interpreted in more than one way.

Thanks for the great summary and wonderful illustrations, France-Andree.

I agree, Connie, that if the signalman hadn’t been sure it was not real then he would have survived. I think the narrator had a point when he told him that he was mistaking reality and ghostly activity but the signalman thought he had some sort of control and could differentiate.

I thought this was well done also in setting mood and building tension. At the beginning, I had a little trouble figuring out who was speaking but it was soon made clear. Loved the illustrations and the tidbit about Dickens having been in train wreck himself!

France-Andrée - Thank you so much for your superb introductory comments: the summary and the observations, and illustrations. You have certainly provided lots for us to think about over the next two weeks :)

I'll respond to your interperation later, but just concentrate on one part now.

The rail crash in real life which you alluded to, is crucial in explaining the background and reason why he wrote this story at all.

Charles Dickens used to walk and walk and walk, and muse a lot. And he loved railways! Mugby Junction and Other Stories (which this story comes from, as France-Andrée mentioned) is a set of short stories nearly all about railways, by various writers. In some ways The Signalman story parallels the Clayton Tunnel rail crash, which occurred five years earlier, although he did not use this incident directly. But what is significant is that the collection was published in 1866, as you say, just a year later.

The Staplehurst Rail Crash:

This hideous rail crash was on 9th June 1865. Charles Dickens was a passenger in the train, and since he was with his mistress Nelly Ternan and her mother, Frances Ternan, presumably he hoped to keep this a secret. They travelled in a First Class carriage, which did not completely fall into the river bed when the train was derailed.

The illustration France-Andrée provided is from an engraving in the "Illustrated London News". As such, it is taken from life: not embellishing in any way, but intended as a documentary record for the public and courts, of what actually happened. And when you think of it like that, and realise that Charles Dickens — a writer and actor — was the main force behind saving the lives here, it is incredible!

Charles Dickens showed remarkable courage. He climbed out of his compartment through the window, and then made sure the Ternans were safe. He then looked after as many of the victims as he could, giving them brandy and water. Some died in his presence. Eventually an emergency train to London arrived.

Only after all this, did he go back into the carriage to get the manuscript he was working on — the next installment of Our Mutual Friend! Amazingly, installment 14 (or Book 3 chapters 11–14) was published as planned, in June 1865.

The directors of the South Eastern Railway were so impressed with Charles Dickens's bravery that they presented him with a piece of plate, to mark their appreciation for his assistance in the aftermath of the Staplehurst rail accident. But the entire experience affected him greatly, and probably contributed to the illness which led to his death. He lost his voice for two weeks and Installment 16 (published in August 1865) was shorter. This is from Charles Dickens's postscript to Our Mutual Friend:

"On Friday the Ninth of June in the present year, Mr and Mrs Boffin (in their manuscript dress of receiving Mr and Mrs Lammle at breakfast) were on the South-Eastern Railway with me, in a terribly destructive accident. When I had done what I could to help others, I climbed back into my carriage — nearly turned over a viaduct, and caught aslant upon the turn — to extricate the worthy couple. They were much soiled, but otherwise unhurt ... I remember with devout thankfulness that I can never be much nearer parting company with my readers for ever than I was then, until there shall be written against my life, the two words with which I have this day closed this book: — THE END."

It's so amazing to think his final completed novel could so easily have been lost — and that Charles Dickens was such a hero in real life :) Since he couldn't really mention his co-passengers by name, it's interesting to speculate whether "Mr and Mrs Boffin" in his postscript actually refers to them ... I do actually believe he is using his characters in Our Mutual Friend to closely parallel his mistress Nelly, and her mother — his real life travelling companions.

Afterwards Charles Dickens was always nervous when travelling by train, and avoided it whenever he could. But the memory of this event "haunted" him; he was never again happy travelling by train. The main hidden meaning in this story is cathartic. He was trying, as his son later said, for all his life after this event, to drive away his demons.

And this fact may send a chill down your spine ... Charles Dickens died exactly five years after the rail crash, to the very day. How remarkable — and how poignant.

Thank you Jean for the information. It’s a weird coincidence that he died 5 years to the day from the crash, I wonder if the memories where too much on top of everything else.

I enjoyed reading The Signalman; it has a deliciously dark and eerie feeling. Thank you for the introduction, France-Andree.

I had to look up the term signalman (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Signalm... to better understand what the man was doing. At first I thought he was just monitoring traffic through the tunnel.

When I started to read the story, I wondered what prompted Dickens to write it. Now that I know about his accident, I understand that he was probably haunted by it.

Reading these short stories, between reading two longer books, is a great idea, Jean!

Knowing about Dickens’ own railroad disaster adds volumes to the reading of the story. The Signalman is in a position of responsibility to control the trains and keep people safe. He’s being haunted by what he couldn’t keep from happening. I too wonder what part the specter played in the ending.

When the narrator describes the signal man as being conscientious, saying the signalman was "vigilant, painstaking, and exact," it seems as though Dickens is inventorying his own character and actions as they played out on June 9, 1865. I hope that in the end that Dickens found himself to be vigilant, painstaking, and exact.

The tradition of sharing ghost stories like this at Christmas time seems to have originated in England and prevailed into the 20th century. It had disappeared here in Canada, except for one such tale, The Shepherd a story by Frederick Forsyth that shows the influence of Nevil Shute; that tale was for a number of years read over the CBC by Alan Maitland. Re-reading it aloud by the fireside has become a Christmas tradition in our family.

Such a ghost story relies greatly for its effectiveness on the creation of atmosphere: preferably gloom, isolation, a sense of being in a place apart, having little connection with the outside world. This Dickens accomplishes by the lonely setting, physically cut off by placing it in a deep rail cut, the damp stone walls, a dark tunnel.
I note also that such an anecdote requires no backstory; like a fairy tale, it arises fully formed — the way that spring midges materialize, seemingly out of nothing, in our part of the world. No explanation is offered regarding the narrator, how he comes upon the scene, why he hails the signalman. The narrator himself is of no consequence, he in effect becomes part of the story he relates. So the tale is told with great economy, no needless baggage to get in the way of moving the story along. Dickens handles this masterfully.

I’ve always think of ghost story at Christmas as an English or Irish thing too. I’ll have to look up this Canadian short story because, well, it’s from my country and if it’s a tradition at your house, Jim, it has to be good.

I think the most well known tale from my province involves the Devil and is called La chasse-galerie or The Enchanted (or Bewitched or Flying, depends on the teller) Canoe: https://www.canadashistory.ca/explore.... There’s also one that's about a country dance where a handsome stranger comes and dances with the most beautiful girl and she doesn’t see the time pass and they dance past 11:59pm and he dances her out of the barn because she’s damned! One guess who the handsome stranger was? The devil does show up a lot in our legends, I think it has to do with how Catholic the place used to be and how scary he could be.

France-Andrée wrote: "a country dance where a handsome stranger comes and dances with the most beautiful girl and she doesn’t see the time pass and they dance past 11:59pm and he dances her out of the barn because she’s damned! ..."

I think there are variants of this in several European folk tales from different countries. It's certainly familiar to me! Interesting that you connect this with Catholicism.

The English tradition of telling ghost stories at Christmas goes back a long way. However Charles Dickens was one of the first to popularise it, writing one every year. The Victorians loved all things spooky ;) Here's an interesting article about the association of ghosts and Christmas:

LINK HERE

My favourite classic ghost story writer (apart from "the Inimitable") is M.R. James. His short stories, although written much later, cemented the annual tradition following on from Charles Dickens.

M.R. James was actually a noted medieval scholar and provost of Kings College, Cambridge. His scholarly work remains highly respected in academic circles, but nowadays he is best remembered by the general public for his short stories. They are classic understated Victorian ghost stories, which create an atmosphere of terror by mere suggestion, (so beware of the blurbs on Goodreads!) Many of them were written to be read aloud, precisely because of the tradition in Victorian families of reading spooky tales aloud on Christmas Eve.

At the end of every year, in his rooms at Cambridge, M.R. James continued this tradition with specially invited fellow dons and friends. Sadly there are therefore not very many, in just a handful of collections. (I've reviewed maybe a dozen separately, which can be accessed from my sleves, if anyone's interested).

Also here is a facinating article written by M.R. James himself in 1929, called "Some Remarks on Ghost Stories", which goes into the tradition more deeply.

LINK HERE

Jim wrote: "Such a ghost story relies greatly for its effectiveness on the creation of atmosphere: preferably gloom, isolation, a sense of being in a place apart, having little connection with the outside worl..."

This is spot on for describing the traditonal English ghost story :)

"The narrator himself is of no consequence, he in effect becomes part of the story he relates."

I like this very much. We've broadened this out to a wider theme, but perhaps in this second week it might be a good idea to go back and focus on the structure of the story and the language used, uness France-Andrée takes us elsewhere, of course.

We may also find others joining in, who are are reading this for the first time too :)

I've been wanting to return to Dickens in a while, and to read another Christmas ghost story, so I'm happy to join the reading of The Signalman, though a dark opening to the Mugby Junction.
It's ironic that the narrator describes himself as shut up within narrow limits all his life, when in exploring the world, he finds someone whose life perspective has narrowed to a train line. France-Andrée's comment about "technology not being stoppable in its ravages" struck a chord with my reading. From the opening, the narrator's description of the Branch Line is unnatural and forbidding, even deadly. I read the train as a symbol of industrialization and its dehumanizing effects. The train's gathering momentum is felt by the narrator as though it had force to draw me down. The signalman in his work has developed qualities of machinery -- exact and precise. Yet, his human error/fallibility eventually collides with the engine. Perhaps his haunting represents the wider inescapability of such train wrecks (in more than one sense) in the industrial age. I'd like to read the other Mugby stories to see the narrator's change of heart!

Vanessa, I had not seen the parallel between the narrator narrow life and the small world surrounding the train and the signalman, good point. I wonder too if the world of the narrator expands in the other stories.

I’ve never been on a train, but I’ve been near one when it passed and you do have the impression that it is everything for a few seconds. Dickens was familiar with them, but he also sees them as an engine of death (I wonder if he took them for granted before Staplehurst) and in scary stories what scares the most is the familiar. Dickens uses something of the everyday life and makes it the “monster” and even a ghost can’t stop it.

France-Andrée wrote: "I wonder if there is an actual haunting, is it possible that the signalman is tapping in the future without knowing it? ... that the signalman was having some sort of vision, precognition or an actual haunting ..."

Yes, I like this ambiguity about the story. And I do think that Charles Dickens might be trying to express something of his feelings of guilt - despite all those lives he saved in the Staplehurst rail crash - I agree that he "felt regretful not to have been able to help those that died". We feel guilt, even when it is clear that the fault is not ours; it's part of human nature. I mentioned how strongly I feel that this story was cathartic.

The signal-man worked on the same watch, year after year. He was left along with his own thoughts - and we know what tricks the human mind can play on itself. Could his loneliness and sleep deprivation be the cause of this "haunting". Here we see the signal-man's despair and anguish at being impotent; but is it self-imposed? A playing-out of his own fears made manifest? A mental breakdown?

Yet it seems by the end that the spectre’s warnings were real. The signal-man really did see a ghost or spectre: there does seem to be a foreshadowing of the train driver. But with an eerie story like this, could it be that the signal-man himself was actually a ghost? Then the spectre would be a memory of his own death.

Just as in To Be Read at Dusk, which we read back in August, we are not sure who the ghosts are. Charles Dickens's earlier ghost stories are ofen humorous, and much more straightforward, but there are so many different interpretations of this complex late story. Everything is blurred and off kilter by the ending :)

I am amazed that you have never been on a train, France-Andrée! I shouldn't be of course, but they seem so ordinary to me. I used to commute every day on a train, plus tubes (underground ones), and have used them all my life. On the other hand, I rarely travel in a car, and can count the aeroplane trips I've made on my fingers. But yes, they are certainly scary and impressive when they speed by you, especially steam trains.

Charles Dickens loved trains before the disaster, and was a regular traveller - but he would never have "taken them for granted", as this mode of transport was so new. In fact the novel we are to read next, Dombey and Son has quite a lot about the construction of the railways in it.

Vanessa wrote: "I've been wanting to return to Dickens in a while, and to read another Christmas ghost story, so I'm happy to join the reading of The Signalman, though a dark opening to the Mugby Junction ... "

Vanessa, it's so great to see you here! Yes, going down to the tunnel in this story is like going through a very dark amphitheatre to the other stories in Mugby Junction beyond, isn't it? Really theatrical :)

"I read the train as a symbol of industrialization and its dehumanizing effects." I like this too, and it ties in with France-Andrée's description of it as a "monster".

"the narrator's description of the Branch Line is unnatural and forbidding, even deadly."

If we think of this as a metaphor, and broaden the interpretation out, I agree Charles Dickens could have been making an observation and prediction about the upcoming Industrial Age's devastating effects. His novels seem strewn with examples of conflict between the old dying traditions, and new mechanisation. Charles Dickens always seemed to be torn, wanting to preserve both (which of course is impossible).

The whole story had a dark feeling of foreboding, even from the start, and the narrator's descent into a "great dungeon". Talk of a "black tunnel" ... as if I had left the natural world", and the part you quote "as though it had force to draw me down.". Where exactly are we destined here? Are we descending through this gaping black hole into Hell? In which case, who - or what - is our narrator? All we have is this:

"In me, he merely saw a man who had been shut up within narrow limits all his life, and who, being at last set free, had a newly-awakened interest in these great works."

What does "set free" mean, exactly? Is he still alive or not? Are they in fact both ghosts? It's interesting too that he makes this descent 3 times.

This is such a great discussion!
I’ve always enjoyed the ambiguity of this story. I think one of the major themes is fate. The whole story is fatalistic, although there are forewarnings the outcomes can’t be changed. The signalman mentions that he gets the warnings but can’t do anything. The ending seems inevitable to me.

I like the idea that the signalman is already a ghost when the narrator meets him, Jean. This is opened to many interpretations.

I’ve been on the underground (Métro) almost everyday but ours is all underground so I never thought of it as a train though in a way it is. When I think of trains, I think of the outside and seeing the panorama go by; I was supposed to go to Niagara Falls on one this summer but a “little” pandemic happened, I hope I can remedy to my lack of experience soon though I’ll think more of Agatha Christie or The Lady Vanishes if I do than The Signalman and why it was written (there I jinxed it!).

France-Andrée wrote: "Dickens ... also sees them as an engine of death (I wonder if he took them for granted before Staplehurst) and in scary stories what scares the most is the familiar. Dickens uses something of the everyday life and makes it the “monster” and even a ghost can’t stop it."

I agree, France-Andrée, and the trains must have seemed even more monstrous in the age of steam engines, spewing smoke.

It's interesting, too, that the Staplehurst accident was caused by a signalman with a red flag being placed too close to the rail track work to allow the train time to stop before reaching it.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Where exactly are we destined here? Are we descending through this gaping black hole into Hell? In which case, who - or what - is our narrator?"

Thanks, Jean -- it's nice to be here! Interesting questions. The signalman's workplace certainly has a hellish feeling. Some of the great description is telling. The narrator is in the glow of an angry sunset when he first sees the signalman, and I thought the word barbarous to describe the tunnel opening particularly startling applied to architecture. I was also intrigued that the signalman had studied philosophy, but had run wild in his youth and had gone down, and never risen again. His life seems to have shaped itself into that form of his work, so that he is enmeshed into the railway system like another machine. Even the language he has learned there can't really be used for personal communication.

As to the narrator also being a ghost, that's even more intriguing... he does imply being released from another kind of work prison. And here I was, only thinking of retirement ;)

Hi Vanessa - thanks for selecting those particular expressions. I do think that we can tell this is a late work, as the language Charles Dickens is so subtle, with extra layers of meaning as you observe :)

Also, for me it feels similar to Wilkie Collins. Not so much in the words chosen, or style, which is pure Charles Dickens, but in the feelings of foreboding and dread it engenders in us, with little of his usual humour to divert us from the "track" - the significance. How I would love to have been there in the room when the two great authors were chatting ...

There is so much in this story! But since we move on to another tomorrow, I'll just mention the gesture by the signalman, which is so Dickensian. At key points we've noticed Charles Dickens often includes references to fingers pointing, and arms as signposts. They are there, subtly, in many of his novels - and even here in this short story, used at the most dramatic, thrilling moment when the true horror comes upon us. Here it is:


"The Apparition" - Sol Eytinge 1867

Sol Eytinge shows us the dreadful moment when the truth dawns on us. He has chosen a dark plate, a type of wood-engraving which we saw Phiz (Hablot Knight Browne) make use of several times in Little Dorrit. I think it suits this haunting image very well! Intriguingly he titles the illustration "The Apparition", the word used by the signalman pictured, for what he is describing, as he says:

"I don't know. I never saw the face. The left arm is across the face, and the right arm is waved, — violently waved. This way."

It's such a memorable story.

"For God's sake, clear the way!"

I like the illustration, it’s so dark that it leaves enough to the imagination to be scary.