Victorians! discussion

All good things must come to an end, including our lovely discussion over Dombey and Son. So let’s recap the end of the book!

After the darkness of Carker’s death last week, we had a return to positivity with the reunion and engagement of Walter and Florence. We start off this week with their simple, private wedding. After visiting little Paul’s grave, the couple goes to Mr. Toots’ church and are united in marriage with only Uncle Sol, Captain Cuttle, Mr. Toots, and Susan Nipper in attendance. The young couple then leaves for their voyage, attended by Susan’s sobs and Captain Cuttle’s cries of “Hooroar!”

Walter has left a letter to be delivered to Mr. Dombey in three weeks’ time, informing him of Florence’s marriage and pledging to always take care of her. Walter and Florence are blissfully happy with each other, and Florence returns us to our motif of the sea, “whose voices in the waves are always whispering to Florence, in their ceaseless murmuring, of love–of love, eternal and illimitable, not bounded by the confines of this world, or by the end of time, but ranging still, beyond the sea, beyond the sky, to the invisible country far away!” (811).

The next chapter moves us ahead a year, and the company of Dombey and Son is down. Mr. Perch is making out like a bandit, being courted everywhere with free drinks in exchange for inside gossip. Major Bagshot, upon finding out that his dear friend is in dire financial trouble, immediately claimed that he had been “deceived, Sir, taken in, hoodwinked, blindfolded” but was now awake on every suit and would never be so taken in again (814). Mrs. Chick holds that if her brother would just make an effort, and if he had listened to her, then his problems would be solved.

Mr. Morfin is perhaps the only person who actually has sincere compassion for Mr. Dombey, and is one of the few who does not either gloat or try to turn the situation to his benefit. Having a sincere respect for Mr. Dombey, the downfall of the business is painful for Mr. Morfin, and he is relaxing after a particularly stressful day when he is visited by Harriet Carker. She enquires after Mr. Dombey’s situation and seems super jazzed that he is now bankrupt and broke. This is very disappointing for Mr. Morfin, who thought better of Harriet than to be triumphing over a man when he is down, and he gently rebukes her, reminding her that “vices are sometimes only virtues carried to excess” and that Mr. Dombey, in his excessive pride, refuses to take the easy way out and insists on depleting his personal fortune to cover his business debts in order to minimize the losses of his vendors (817). Harriet quickly disabuses him of his misapprehension. She is only glad that Dombey is down because it will give her remaining brother, John, the opportunity to help him get back up. Having inherited James Carker’s estate upon his death, the brother and sister find themselves flush with money for the first time ever. John is eager to repay Mr. Dombey for his mercy, and Mr. Morfin agrees to help them do so secretly. After she leaves, he reflects mournfully on his habit of being an old bachelor.

After leaving Mr. Morfin, Harriet makes another stop. She goes to visit Alice and Good Mrs. Brown, something she apparently does often. Alice is extremely ill and is being nursed by Mrs. Wickam, the same woman who became little Paul’s nurse after the firing of Polly Toodles. She is considered an appropriate choice for this position in “an excellent and thoughtful old system, hallowed by long prescription, which has usually picked out from the rest of mankind the most dreary and uncomfortable people that could possibly be laid hold of, to act as instructors of youth, finger-posts to the virtues, matrons, monitors, attendants on sick beds” (822). We also learn that Edith is actually Alice’s first cousin. Alice is the result of her mother’s liaison with Edith’s father’s brother–hence the resemblance that the sharp-eyed Carker picked up on. Was anyone surprised by this revelation?

After begging Harriet to take care of Mrs. Brown and listening to Harriet read the Bible aloud, Alice passes on. I’m not a religious person, but I think this description of the Bible is quite beautiful: “the eternal book for all the weary and the heavy-laden; for all the wretched, fallen, and neglected of this earth–read the blessed history, in which the blind lame palsied beggar, the criminal, the woman stained with shame, the shunned of all our dainty clay, has each a portion, that no human pride, indifference, or sophistry, through all the ages that this world shall last, can take away, or by the thousandth atom of a grain reduce–read the ministry of Him who, through the round of human life, and all its hopes and griefs, from birth to death, from infancy to age, had sweet compassion for, and interest in, its every scene and stage, its every suffering and sorrow” (826-27). *A moment of silence for poor Alice*

Chapter LIX returns us to the scene of Dombey’s undoing as the narrator relates the dismantling of the luxurious household. The master of the house has confined himself to his room and refuses to leave or to see anyone. Meanwhile, the creditors begin to arrive and the contents of the mansion to depart. Dickens introduces the phrase “it is a ruin none the less, and the rats fly from it” in the first paragraph on page 829, and refers back to it several times as the “loyal” servants take their pay and leave; as Mrs. Pipchin, having secured Dombey’s favorite chair as her own, packs up and leaves. Meanwhile, “herds of shabby vampires” overrun the house, carelessly moving things around and mistreating the fine furniture. Dickens divides this into three paragraphs: the viewing, the sale, and the removal. Each paragraph is a cascade of imagery of what these stages entail.

Before Mrs. Pipchin leaves, she summons one who is truly loyal and comes into the house even as the rats are flying from it, and that is Polly Toodles aka Mrs. Richards. Mr. Toodles realizes that this dreary scene may be a drag on his wife’s spirits, but he declares to her that “favours past, Polly, is never to be forgot.” We see what lies at the core of this couple when he tells her, “You wish no better than to do a right act, I know; and my views is, that it’s right and dutiful to do this” (836). Their philosophy is straightforward and simple–you just do the right thing, no matter if it is convenient or pleasant.

Another wronged old friend who returns to support the Dombey household is Miss Tox. She begins to visit every day, bringing treats for Polly and providing company for her since she is virtually alone in the building. The Major, who is spying on Dombey’s house, thinks her faithfulness to the ruined man is hilarious and contemptible. He would think this, being one of the aforementioned rats!

Mr. Dombey, holed up alone in his room, has nothing but time to reflect on his past choices, and his pride is finally stripped away enough for other ideas to get in. He FINALLY begins to see the error in his dealings with his daughter. He realizes that “of all around him, she had never changed. His boy had faded into dust, his proud wife had sunk into a polluted creature, his flatterer and friend had been transformed into the worst of villains, his riches had melted away, the very walls that sheltered him looked on him as a stranger; she alone had turned the same mild gentle look upon him always . . . She had never changed to him–nor had he ever changed to her–and she was lost” (839). The moment we’ve been waiting for! Dombey finally realizes what a treasure Florence is, but it’s too late. I’m not sure I agree with the next part: “how much better than this that he had loved her as he had his boy, and lost her as he had his boy, and laid them in their early grave together” (839). Does he really think it would be better if he had loved her as a child and she had DIED then??? How would that be better? And who would it be better for?!? Sounds like Dombey still has some reflecting to do–he’s still seeing the world a little too much from his own POV.

He knows in his heart that Florence would have stood by him and loved him even more during this time of trouble. His conversion begins with the receipt of Walter’s letter and the knowledge that she is really gone. Although this causes him suffering, he is still so proud that even if he heard her in the next room, he wouldn’t have gone in there. He keeps telling himself that he will leave the house after one more night, but it is as though Florence’s ghost is there with him, and he wanders the house, visualizing her in the various rooms, and he is unable to tear himself away. He stays, growing weaker and weaker, until one day the footsteps he is always imagining turn out to be real.

Florence is there, kneeling by him and begging for his forgiveness. Did anyone else have a problem with this? Why in the world is she kneeling to him, asking for forgiveness? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?!?

She tells him that she has a child now, a little boy named Paul, and it does say that Dombey “would have raised his hands and besought her pardon” but she wouldn’t let him (844). She tells him how very much she loves Walter and begs him to accept him. Dombey kisses her, and begs God for forgiveness. Miss Tox and Polly come out of concealment, shedding happy tears over the reconciliation, and pack up Dombey’s clothes so he can go and live with Florence and Walter. Miss Tox notes that Dombey and Son “is indeed a daughter” (845). Then we learn that Rob the Grinder is now in service to Miss Tox and has (supposedly) reformed his ways. So what do we think? Are we buying it, or do we have doubts? If this was my movie, we would have Rob turning to flash a very Carker-like grin at the camera as he trails behind Miss Tox, but I’m thinking Dickens may have been more straightforward in his plotting.

In the next chapter, we learn that Dr. Blimber is stepping down as the head of the school and Mr. Feeder is taking over the position. Mr. Feeder is also marrying Cornelia. Guests at this auspicious occasion include Mr. and Mrs. Toots. It turns out that Mr. Toots and Susan Nipper did indeed make a match of it. Toots seems to be overwhelmed with his good fortune in having secured such an extraordinary woman to be his wife. He admits candidly that he has always been aware that he lacks sense, and that his wife now more than makes up for his lack in her abundance of it. His repeated pleas for her to avoid exerting herself and to remember “the medical man” implies that she may be increasing.

When Toots tells Susan that Florence has returned home and is reconciled with her father, who seems to be dying, she insists on flying to the side of her beloved former mistress at once. Her doting husband agrees, of course, and they set out at once.

As they are traveling to Florence’s side, we find out poor Mr. Bunsby’s fate. Like a helpless fly, he is trapped in Mrs. MacStinger’s web. Under the guard of her bridesmaids, he is being marched to his wedding. Captain Cuttle, feeling the weight of being the one who introduced the two to each other, attempts to save his friend, but Bunsby is too far gone. Like an insect immobilized by the venom of the spider, he is unable to bestir himself to escape, and the wedding takes place. Captain Cuttle witnesses it sorrowfully, and makes his own escape when one of the bridesmaids, no longer having to guard the groom, starts to turn her attention to the hapless Captain.

Mr. Toots and Susan arrive at the Midshipman, and Susan easily slips back into her old role of nurse/companion to Florence. Mr. Dombey is gravely ill and hovers at death’s door, and Florence is grateful for the nursing assistance. In his fog, Dombey returns to the question “‘what is money?’ and ponders on it, and thinks about it, and reasons with himself, more or less connectedly, for a good answer” (861). Money, and the possession and/or lack of it, and its connection to happiness, are some of the major thematic ideas that this novel deals with. He is a changed man: he begs Susan’s forgiveness, assures Walter of his confidence in Walter’s ability to care for Florence, and derives his greatest pleasure from watching the little family as they sit in his room in the evenings.

They receive an unexpected visit from Cousin Feenix, who asks Walter and Florence to accompany him on a trip to London. Walter is let in on the reason for this journey, but Florence is kept in the dark. She trusts her husband, though, and goes willingly when he recommends it. She is stunned when she is ushered into the presence of Edith! Florence is happy to see her stepmother, but is, once again, torn between her fondness for the other woman and her loyalty to her father, even stronger now that he returns her love. Edith is equally stunned to see her–Cousin Feenix had arranged this meeting unbeknownst to either woman.

Florence immediately begins urging Edith to adopt her own strategy, which is to beg for Dombey's forgiveness and prostrate herself before him. Edith, unsurprisingly, is not so much a fan of this plan of action. When Florence tells her to repent of her sin and shame, Edith bursts out that she has much to repent, but sin with Carker is not part of it. She is guilty of pride and resentment, but not adultery. Florence asks Edith if she wants any message passed on to Mr. Dombey, hoping still that Edith will humble herself to him and either express remorse or a softened attitude toward him. The best Edith can do is to tell him that she wished they had never met. Florence asks if she can at least tell him that Edith is sorry for Dombey’s recent afflictions, but Edith denies even this, stating that she isn’t sorry “if they have taught him that his daughter is very dear to him” (870). She informs Florence that Mr. Dombey will not regret his own troubles if they have taught him to cherish his daughter. Edith tells Florence that her message to Dombey is that if he can have compassion for Edith’s past and harbor less bitterness toward her, that is all she asks. She points out that the only point at which these two disparate people intersect is in their love for Florence. When his love for his daughter is deepest, then will he feel “repentant for his own part in the dark vision of [their] married life.” It is at that time, she goes on, that she herself will feel repentant too “and think that when I thought so much of all the causes that had made me what I was, I needed to have allowed more for the causes that had made him what he was. I will try, then, to forgive him his share of blame. Let him try to forgive me mine!” (871). So Edith is still fierce and proud, but shows signs of growth, as well. Florence embraces her and speaks of meetings in the future, but Edith insists that they will never meet again. Cousin Feenix assures Florence that he will continue to take care of Edith.

In the last chapter, the old bottle of Madeira that has been saved, all these years, to celebrate Walter’s return home and success in life is brought out, the perfect time finally having been reached. Mr. Dombey, returned to health, is there to celebrate with them.

More time has gone by, and Mr. Dombey is happily living in the bosom of his family. Miss Tox visits often as a family friend. Dombey has never recovered his fortunes or business, but is living off of a sum of money that arrives anonymously on an annual basis and that Mr. Morfin assures him is a residual of his business dealings and nothing to worry about. Mr. Morfin is now married to Harriet and visits occasionally.

The Midshipman is still in business but now is under the management of Gills & Cuttle. It’s still not bustling with customers, but rumor has it that Uncle Sol’s investments are paying off and they are quite comfortable. Mr. Toots bursts in to announce that Susan has given birth to a daughter and everyone rejoices. Mr. Toots, puffing on his pipe, reflects on his blissful marriage and his wife’s extraordinary wisdom and perception. One of the bases of their relationship is Susan’s understanding of Mr. Toots’ feelings for Miss Dombey, mainly that he considers Florence “the most beautiful, the most amiable, the most angelic of her sex” (876). Susan is able to accept his feelings because she agrees with him wholeheartedly! While Mr. Toots may have put Florence on a pedestal as an angel, it is clear that Susan is on one only slightly lower. While he may not offer a lot in the way of intelligent conversation, his devotion to his wife is complete. It’s nice to see them so happy together!

Walter has been promoted and no longer has to travel but is able to live comfortably in England with his family. Susan observes that “under the very eye of Mr. Dombey, there is a foundation going on, upon which . . . an edifice . . . . is gradually rising, perhaps to equal, perhaps excel, that of which he was once the head.” Mrs. Toots observes that “from his daughter, after all, another Dombey and Son will ascend” (877).

More times goes by and we see Mr. Dombey on the shore with his grandchildren. He spends time with little Paul, enjoying the youth and strength of this child. He loves both his grandchildren, but his granddaughter is his darling. “He hoards her in his heart. He cannot bear to see a cloud upon her face. . . . He steals away to look at her, in her sleep” (878). She is his little Florence, his second chance. He has another chance to make sure this little girl gets the love she deserves from him.

What are your thoughts on the thematic elements of the story? As I mentioned previously, money and its effect on happiness is examined throughout. There are some very powerful messages attached to this in the book. Dickens also examines the real meaning of family, as well as loyalty. Pride is another thematic idea that is given a lot of importance. It is presented as both admirable and destructive in the novel. What do you think Dickens’ message about pride is?

So what is your final verdict? Did you enjoy the book? Do you feel that Dombey was dealt justice? Are you happy with the various endings that our characters achieved? I just want to say that I have greatly enjoyed reading this book with all of you and appreciate the insightful comments and opinions that you have shared. Please let us hear your final thoughts!

P.S. In addition to being a classic lit and Dickens fan, I’m also a horror aficionado. I’m currently listening to an audiobook entitled The Haunting by Bentley Little. A family is experiencing disturbances in their new house, one of which is nightmares about a dark figure in the basement. This figure is almost invisible in the darkness–the only thing that can be seen of him is the blinding whiteness of his teeth as he smiles creepily. My first thought is, “So this is where Carker went!” That is who that figure will be to me for the rest of the book! 😆

Notwithstanding the gorgeous writing and the compelling plot, I was left with a number of questions unanswered in my mind (that said, it was more than likely that I simply missed the obvious answers that Dickens had already supplied).

Here they are:

1) What the nature of Carker the elder's sin (and/or the cause of his being held back in Dombey and Son) and why did Carker the Junior despise him so much and treat him so miserably? It was hinted that it was embezzlement but I was never really sure.

2) During their final meeting, Florence begged Edith to return and ask for Dombey's forgiveness. What on earth did Florence feel that she had cause to repent?

3) Edith ultimately seemed like a powerful woman from the point of view of feminist mental strength. Why did she choose to leave with Carker and give the appearance of eloping with him when it was obvious she had absolutely no intention of bringing that act to completion? God knows, she made it quite clear that she despised him as much as she despised Dombey.

4) Did the character of Susan Nipper not ultimately come across to you as weak in that she decided to marry Toots in the clear knowledge that he desperately loved Florence and would never think any differently?

Excellent facilitation Cindy.

I thoroughly enjoyed Dombey and Son and participating with this wonderful group of readers.

The thematic elements were perfect. That is one thing that sets Dickens apart from other authors. Your question, What do you think Dickens’ message about pride is? I think he is saying pride can be as fleeting as money.

Paul wrote: "Notwithstanding the gorgeous writing and the compelling plot, I was left with a number of questions unanswered in my mind (that said, it was more than likely that I simply missed the obvious answer..."
3) was "strong" Edith just grasping at straws/anyway out with Carker?
4) Did Susan wait politely until after Florence was settled to marry Toots?

Paul wrote: "Notwithstanding the gorgeous writing and the compelling plot, I was left with a number of questions unanswered in my mind (that said, it was more than likely that I simply missed the obvious answer..."

That is exactly my feeling ... some threads are left dangling, and some solutions are unsatisfactory.

There's Florence asking her father's forgiveness - it's revolting to modern readers.

There's Edith after she left Carker - what does she do? What was her real plan? In the final scene, she is still proud, but unhappy, a 'lost' woman with a wasted life: why?

In my view, Dickens caters to the morals of his readers and his time in both cases: filial disobedience and a wife that escapes - these are things that must not be in Victorian times. Dickens was bold enough to write them, and to evoke readers' sympathy and understanding for these acts - but in the end, he cannot let them stand, and Dickens takes care to pour oil on the troubled waters. And so Florence apologises, and Edith must not have an independent life or - horribile dictu - be happy.

Mr. Dombey's transformation into a humble, loving father seemed slightly unbelievable to me until I re-read that section. Then I began to see how Dickens had crafted Dombey's salvation from excessive pride to complete downfall in losing both his wife and his business, to belief that he had nothing worthwhile left in his own life. I think the transformation was completed only when Florence reappeared in his life and nursed him back to health. Perhaps for the first time in his life he experienced real love. I was put off by Florence's apology to him but realized that as the victim of his abuse and neglect for many years the child in her still saw his mistreatment as somehow her fault. I was delighted that Susan and Mr. Toots married. I think she understands and values him as no one else could, and obviously she doesn't feel threatened by his crush on Florence. I was also very happy to learn that Diogenes was still alive and enjoying life. Good dog!
There is so much to comment on in this last section that I could go on forever if I had the time. Thanks for the great job as moderator, Cindy.
My final comment has to do with Dickens use of the present tense in every church service except Paul's christening. I made a comment on it earlier when I noticed it in Chapter 18 (Paul's funeral) and kept my eye open for it thereafter. It was an interesting choice which gave me a sense of "You are there" for each event.

Thank you so much Cindy, so enjoyed your summaries and questions and everyones' responses! I do love all the pieces in the ending of this book, from Carker's downfall to Harriett marrying Mr Morfin to the genius of the ending of Dombey and little Paul and Florence - that people can change, and that there are second chances in life. I do think that Dombey's change is believable with how Dickens tells the story of all that has happened. I had never thought so much about why Carker suddenly becomes terrified of Dombey coming after him, i guess i agree with you that perhaps it is not that believable but great storytelling!

i do think that the power and neglected importance of the woman in society in this novel is reflected better than anywhere else in Dickens in the importance of Florence - definitely there are a lot of flaws in how she is represented - but thinking about the name of this group and that there was a Queen Victoria and the importance of her and yet the many struggles that she had (and that we have in the modern day!) that the ending that Dombey and Son - was perhaps a daughter after all, is a powerful statement for the time! Various women were important to Dickens as well in his personal life and he was a great sponsor and editor to those such as Elizabeth Gaskell -

I think another important theme is the value of the attributes of childhood that so many of us lose - innocent love, trust, attachment, loyalty, sticking to moral principles - manifested of course by Paul and the "good death" of an innocent child that they had to deal with so often in Victorian times (and of course Dickens experienced and grieved himself) but in Captain Cuttle, Toots, the Toodles and I would say even Miss Tox and Susan Nipper. i never saw Susan's marrying Toots as a step down for her - she is in her own way a character that exemplifies this innocence of devotion.

Another wonderful thing about Dickens and this novel in particular is that he brings in and brings to life characters of every type and status - unlike so many novels of the period that focus on one class, and the servants or teachers or the destitute or the working man are ignored or not treated as actual characters.

The overpushing of education on Toots and all the poor others is not something that we have learned to improve upon in modern times at all, it seems - so much of a push on high schoolers in particular to overstudy and achieve in every way just to try to get into this unbelievably competitive college world - where so many of them end up really struggling or dropping out

And finally, the tragedy of Edith: a theme in so much of literature and so much to the modern day (to Thelma and Louise and so many other cultural touchstones) - perhaps the woman can break away, perhaps only through involvement with a man (which is why eloping with Carker is necessary), but she cannot survive it - she dies or is destroyed - she cannot do this in the way that a man can do.

Paul wrote: "Notwithstanding the gorgeous writing and the compelling plot, I was left with a number of questions unanswered in my mind (that said, it was more than likely that I simply missed the obvious answer..."

I agree about the gorgeous writing, Paul! Here are my takes on your questions:

1. The only thing I saw was that he steals money from the firm. They show him mercy and don't fire him, but decide that he can serve as a cautionary tale by being stuck in the same entry-level position for the rest of his life.
2. I'm sure that Florence probably believed, along with everyone else, that Edith had been having an affair with Carker and that's why she ran away with him. I think that is what she is thinking of at that moment, but knowing Florence, she probably thinks that Edith should beg forgiveness for having a mind of her own, too.
3. Edith might have thought that her escape would be much easier with his assistance--presumably he takes care of things like hiring carriages and booking the hotel rooms, as well as the ferry, since they are in France at that point. Those things could be difficult for a single woman to arrange back then, especially a young, attractive woman. Ladies of quality did not travel alone, especially distances like that, so her lack of companion or protector would make her vulnerable. Also, by aiding her, Carker pretty much burns his bridges. He gives up his lucrative position, as well as his reputation and respectability. His name is mud in the City after that. To have him throw his whole life away for absolutely nothing is a pretty sweet revenge for Edith, I would think!
4. I think Susan is more practical than weak. I do think it's an odd thing for a wife to be okay with. I mean, I was thinking that maybe today's equivalent would be if he was in love with the model on the cover of Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, but then Florence is really there in the same room with him. Even though she has zero interest in him, he could still be gazing adoringly at her, hanging on her every word, and thinking how much better she is than his wife in every way. Except Dickens makes it pretty clear that Mr. Toots doesn't do that. He says that about Florence, but he seems pretty wrapped up in Susan. He's not the brightest bulb in the package, so I think this thing about Florence is just an idea that got lodged in his brain, an echo from the past. Susan sees the evidence of his devotion to herself every day--it's not Florence that he talks about and constantly praises!

Francis wrote: "Excellent facilitation Cindy.

I thoroughly enjoyed Dombey and Son and participating with this wonderful group of readers ..."

Thanks so much, Francis! I'm so glad that you enjoyed it!

sabagrey wrote: "There's Florence asking her father's forgiveness - it's revolting to modern readers.

There's Edith after she left Carker - what does she do? What was her real plan? In the final scene, she is still proud, but unhappy, a 'lost' woman with a wasted life: why?..."

I agree! I actually liked the character of Florence, but that's Dickens for you--the damsel in distress has to be so saintly that you really just want to slap her! She's so pure that she's incapable of a negative thought about anyone, so sweet and loving that her capacity for forgiveness is infinite, so modest that she constantly humbles herself, and of course, she is the epitome of the perfect daughter, sister, wife, and mother. They're usually very passive, as well, but at least Florence runs away and doesn't go crawling back the next day. She's also the one who asks Walter to marry her instead of waiting on him! But yeah, having Florence ask Dombey for forgiveness is all kinds of messed up. I think Dickens might have been trying to heap coals of fire on Dombey's head, as well as let us know, once again, what a saint Florence is!

I think you have a point about Edith, sabagrey. Both Edith and Alice are two sides of the same coin--both have terrible upbringings, and both are exploited by the societal system that decrees women are there to please men and are dependent on them for survival. Both rebel against this system and try to take control of their own lives. Edith is left alone and consumed by rage and regret, and Alice dies. Florence accepts her dependence on men and submits gracefully to her father and husband. She is universally adored.

You could also make a case for how their ends show the inflexibility of society to strong women who merely want to pursue happiness in their own ways, and don't want their fates held in the hands of men who ultimately do not really care about their happiness. I'm reading The Tenant of Wildfell Hall right now and am seeing some of the same issues.

First of all, I want to thank Cindy for the excellent moderation - and her wonderful summaries! And thanks to all of the group. You’ve carried me into and through this book, and I’m glad I persisted and got a closer look at a Dickens novel.

I was sceptical when I began, and a bit reluctant: I’m not a Dickens fan. What do I think about Dickens now? What have I learned?

Language, style, imagery: they are breathtaking at times. Sometimes his creativity in that quarter carries him away, even for the sake of consistency and completeness of the plot. For example when he characterises people: he tends toward the extreme, and the result is a bit cartoonish - I have learned not to take the initial caricature too seriously, and wait for the third dimension of the character to unfold over time. (an example would be Miss Tox, introduced with sharp satirical edges but ‘rounded out’ over time).

I have been more or less confirmed in my opinion that Dickens (as other male Victorian authors) has a problem with female characters. There are the ‘Dickens’ angels’ on the one hand: Florence enters their ranks, and they are almost interchangeable in their perfection. Then there is the array of not fully developed secondary females between the bad and the ridiculous. And then there’s Edith, with whom Dickens tried his hand at a complex, conflicted character. But she does not convince me. She seems more like the personification of a personality trait - like those characters in a baroque opera where you see ‘Virtue’ or ‘Vanity’ embodied by a singer. Edith’s motivation, background, and goals remain somewhat in the dark - as if the female character was forbidden (or uninteresting?) territory for men. (Cindy just mentioned The Tenant of Wildfell Hall: another runaway wife, written at about the same time - but a female author goes to a whole other depth of the heroine's character). … Come to think of it, Dombey himself is also such a personification. The novel is not character-driven, but characteristics-driven. (… going down that path a little further: Dickens would be post-baroque or neo-baroque … which reminds me of J.S. Bach who wrote music that, basically, had already gone out of fashion: both are among the greatest in their fields - because or despite of it?)

All in all, I am ready to tackle one or the other of Dickens’ novels in time, now knowing better what to expect … only not just now.

Nancy wrote: "Mr. Dombey's transformation into a humble, loving father seemed slightly unbelievable to me until I re-read that section. Then I began to see how Dickens had crafted Dombey's salvation from excessi..."

That is the word I was looking for Nancy, salvation. Everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves. Dombey was given a second chance.

’ ‘Hooroar, my Heart’s Delight!’ vociferates the Captain, with a countenance of strong emotion. ‘Hooroar, Wal’r my lad. Hooroar! Hooroar!’

Well my hopes for this novel were realised. Florence turned out as the hero and hopefully lived happily ever after. Her resilience throughout all those dark days impressed me. I could imagine her being thrilled on the adventure of a lifetime, sailing across the seas with Walter. I was worried all along that she might end up succumbing to some illness like Paul or being killed off like Carker.

In fact I can’t quite agree with some of the sentiments mentioned above about the women in this novel, because it was they who were the catalysts for the needed change that was brought about in the end. Yes, some of them paid the price for it, but they were not just decorative objects in the background.
It was Alice and her mother, along with Edith, who brought down both Carker and Dombey. I had suspected that they might be related in some way because of the resemblance. The comments of cousin Feenix interested me. He wished that Dombey and Edith had never met and blamed Joe for introducing them. His arrangement of the secret meeting changed my opinion of him somewhat. Before that I thought he was just a penniless ‘Lothario’ but in helping Edith at least he saved her from a fate worse than death.



As for Edith, the only way she could have ‘redeemed’ herself in the eyes of Victorian society was to go back to her husband. After his downfall, neither Dombey or Edith would have wanted that. Sadly, her fate was the same as many other ‘adulterous’ women portrayed in Victorian literature, written by both men and women.

Florence’s willingness to forgive her father after all she had been through might have seemed a step too far, but, as one or two have said, she had it in her power to save a broken man. In forgiving him did she actually prove that she was a Dombey, showing that ‘blood is thicker than water?’ In nursing him she seemed to put her father even before Walter during that time. Dombey’s honest remorse and willingness to apologise even to the servants revealed how great an accomplishment Florence’s forgiveness was. Some modern critics might think that he hadn’t suffered enough but retribution seems more in vogue these days than redemption.

And how great it was to raise Susan from a servant to a gentlewoman, her intelligence and skills being justly rewarded. Not only did Toots get some much needed sense he got a complete organiser who would no doubt be the brains behind their relationship. And as for Susan, she can look forward to plenty of laughs with Toots ( not forgetting perhaps one or two mini Toots to nurture.) Their offspring might throw up one or two interesting personalities, but they will have to wait for another novel.

Cindy wrote: "In the next chapter, we learn that Dr. Blimber is stepping down as the head of the school and Mr. Feeder is taking over the position. Mr. Feeder is also marrying Cornelia. Guests at this auspicious..."

I have enjoyed reading your comprehensive introductions to each sections accompanied by thought provoking questions. The whole group have kept up a stimulating and enlivening discussion which has been a pleasure to contribute to.

Thanks very much for leading the group through such a long and sometimes disheartening novel. There was light at the end of the tunnel and I think I will read it again…..but not for a while.

Nancy wrote: "I was put off by Florence's apology to him but realized that as the victim of his abuse and neglect for many years the child in her still saw his mistreatment as somehow her fault...."

This is a great point, Nancy! The child's bond to its parent, especially its only remaining parent, is incredibly strong. I have seen people in my own family grow up in abusive circumstances but remain very devoted to their parent. Since time had passed by that point, and Florence is so happy in her life, she also feels more able to let go of the past.

Good catch on the use of tense in the church scenes. Like I said, the amount of craft Dickens uses--much of which is so subtle that many readers do not even notice--is brilliant!

sabagrey wrote: "First of all, I want to thank Cindy for the excellent moderation - and her wonderful summaries! And thanks to all of the group. You’ve carried me into and through this book, and I’m glad I persisted and got a closer look at a Dickens novel...."

Thank you so much! I really enjoyed writing the summaries, and your reassurance that I wasn't boring everyone to death meant a lot! :) In an online forum, you have no way to gauge something like that. I'm absolutely thrilled that you stuck with us and you didn't hate it! I was so afraid that you would get tired of it and leave.

For example when he characterises people: he tends toward the extreme, and the result is a bit cartoonish . . . The novel is not character-driven, but characteristics-driven.

This, to me, has always been Dickens' weak point. He creates memorable characters, but they're not necessarily well-rounded characters. However, along with this fault, he has a great many strengths, such as the ones you mentioned, which make his writing worthwhile and pleasant to read. The things that he does well, he does exceedingly well, so I'm able to forgive the things he doesn't. I go into his books with my expectations adjusted, and I'm able to enjoy his unique brilliance without disappointment at not finding things that I knew weren't going to be there.

I hope that, in the future, you enjoy some others of his books. Maybe with the group!! :)

Trev wrote: "

’ ‘Hooroar, my Heart’s Delight!’ vociferates the Captain, with a countenance of strong emotion. ‘Hooroar, Wal’r my lad. Hooroar! Hooroar!’..."

Thanks so much for the pictures, Trev! I absolutely love it when the Captain says "Hooroar!" I can just hear him in my head and can't help but laugh.

I really do love this book and it is now one of my favorite Dickens. I do agree with you that the women are the catalyst for change in this story. Edith destroys his household, leading to Florence's escape, and Alice and her mother set Carker's destruction in motion. Dombey destroys his own business, which is really more fitting and satisfying than having it brought about by outside sources (although Carker helped set it up). I don't have a problem with Florence forgiving her father. He has clearly hit rock bottom and learned his lesson, and it makes her happy to have him around. I think most people (myself included) would have preferred the reunion scene to feature Dombey kneeling to Florence and begging her forgiveness instead of the other way around, but such is life.

There are some strong feminist messages in the book. As has been noted, Edith and Alice's ends are unhappy, but could be read as an indictment of that society's unwillingness to admit that women are capable of taking care of themselves and should be allowed to make their own decisions without male oversight. As Trev pointed out, Edith is, to the rest of the world, an adulteress and so is considered a pariah. Had Dombey been outed in an affair or gone off with a mistress, no one would have thought twice about it. As Sydney commented above, it seems a little odd that women didn't seem to make any gains in this area despite England being ruled under such strong queens as Elizabeth and Victoria.

And then there's Florence, who turns out to be the quintessential Dombey and out-Dombeys all the rest of them! As I noted earlier, she is a member of the "Dickens' Angels" club, but she does show some spine in running away and starting a new life that includes some adventure. Asking Walter to marry her is also stepping outside that "proper female" box.

I don't think the comments about the female characters necessarily contradict their accomplishments in the book. Dickens does write some female characters who have spirit and snap: Miss Pross from ATOTC, David Copperfield's aunt, and Miss Havisham and Mrs. Joe from Great Expectations, to name a few. His saintly young ingenues are a breed unto themselves, however, and are just not well-rounded characters--they're too perfect to achieve that status. Florence falls in this category. She shows a little grit, but she still doesn't seem to have any faults. Like, none! Likewise, he sometimes creates villains, like Carker, who are also flat in their evilness. Everyone has SOME redeeming qualities, but we see none. This doesn't preclude the characters from achieving their goals in the story as well as finding a place in our hearts!

Sydney wrote: "i do think that the power and neglected importance of the woman in society in this novel is reflected better than anywhere else in Dickens in the importance of Florence - definitely there are a lot of flaws in how she is represented - but thinking about the name of this group and that there was a Queen Victoria and the importance of her and yet the many struggles that she had (and that we have in the modern day!) that the ending that Dombey and Son - was perhaps a daughter after all, is a powerful statement for the time!..."

First of all, thanks and I am so glad that you enjoyed the discussions! I had a great time moderating this text and so enjoyed everyone's input. You made some really great points in your comments!

I already mentioned the one above about Queen Victoria. Despite her rule, and that of Queen Elizabeth before that, women were still seen as second-class citizens, for the most part. Did they not see the irony of that? Every man in the country had to bend a knee to their female ruler while many of them still believed that women lacked the capacity to make decisions for their own lives--all while this woman made decisions for their whole country. Oh, well, they also thought that bathing was dangerous and night air would make you sick, while bleeding into a bowl would cure you, so there's that. :)

The overpushing of education on Toots and all the poor others is not something that we have learned to improve upon in modern times at all, it seems - so much of a push on high schoolers in particular to overstudy and achieve in every way just to try to get into this unbelievably competitive college world - where so many of them end up really struggling or dropping out

This is another astute observation. Many students today do experience a lot of stress as they struggle to remain in the top 10% of their class (automatic admittance at many universities). In addition to the heavy academic load this brings, they are also expected to present as a well-rounded student on their college applications, meaning they have to show leadership, collaboration, and community spirit through engaging in clubs, extracurricular sports and activities, and have a significant number of volunteer hours through various organizations. Some students are even graduating high school with an associate's degree from the local community college!

As teachers, we are between a rock and a hard place. We see the stress that many of our students are under, but we also know the competition to get into certain colleges is fierce, so backing off can impact that. In addition, any lessening of our curriculum demands results in difficulties in meeting all of the standards we are supposed to cover each year. We are also constantly being reminded that the US is falling behind other countries in academic achievements, so there is that demand to keep the pressure up, as well. It seems that there are never any easy answers!

Trev wrote: "Thanks very much for leading the group through such a long and sometimes disheartening novel. There was light at the end of the tunnel and I think I will read it again…..but not for a while...."

You're welcome, Trev! Your contributions have added a lot of insight to the group reading, and the illustrations are much appreciated! This was a pretty dark novel, but I'm very partial to dark, so I enjoyed it immensely. And we have the comfort of knowing that love and goodness prevailed at the end!