Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens

*contains spoilers*


Spanning the concerns of an array of the good, the bad and the positively evil, Little Dorrit is a novel that addresses the relevance of money, disinterested love, family, sacrifice, politics and industry. We are first presented with the character of Blandois, the assassin who manages to infect the lives of each of the characters who comprise this sprawling narrative, and who speaks in a theatrical and charming manner that both deceives and entrances the recipient. In the beginning (this work of Dickens’s, more than any others of his I have read, is a cornucopia of biblical references), we are presented with the fiendish Blandois, as he explains his qualities to the benign Cavaletto in the prison cell they share in Marseille; “A gentleman I am! And a gentleman live, and a gentleman I’ll die!” (P24) Even as he extols his position and his state, Cavaletto sits in fear and waits out his sentence – and as a chance encounter in an inn in England occurs, Cavaletto flees in the middle of the night fuelled by fear and self-preservation.


The titular Little Dorrit, as key as she is to the plot, is not the true centre of the novel. It is instead Arthur Clennam whom the reader most spends their time with, and to whom the reader can coherently associate with on a moral level. Little Dorrit, however, is an angel, possessing almost too much goodness to be truly understood or related to, as she willingly sacrifices her time, energy and her dignity for the betterment and support of almost every character whose life she in some way penetrates. Little Dorrit and Blandois are the extremes, and in between we have the sober and orderly Mrs General (obligatory Dickensian aptronym), the genius but disorganised Daniel Doyce, the aristocratic but penniless Henry Gowan, the reclusive and plotting Mrs Clennam and the sometimes silly but compassionate Mr Meagles. These are a mere fraction of the circuitous valleys that wind around each other in between the two moral peaks of the novel.


The novel is set in a variety of places, and one can directly link many of the institutions and journeys that take place in the novel with the peaks and plateaus of Dickens’s own life. The Marshalsea Prison, where William Dorrit, father of Little Dorrit, spends the first portion of the novel, is the place where Dickens’s own father was imprisoned as a debtor of £40 and 10 shillings. And then we have the Circumlocution Office: as Dickens addresses Poverty and Riches, the two books into which the novel is split, we are constantly reminded of this place where such fates are decided. The word circumlocution itself implies indirectness and long-windedness, and this aptly reflects the nature of the bureaucracy of “the most important Department under Government” (P119) and how many of such government departments want things (society) kept just the way they are. The Barnacles have their many self-interested fingers in the many pies of power, and Dickens’s omniscient intelligence lets us know that in order for them to maintain this lineage of power, they must perfect the art of “HOW NOT TO DO IT.” And that is where the little genius, Mr Doyce, comes unstuck, as he attempts to improve the function and efficiency of the workings of the Circumlocution Office.


There is also an immense wealth of joy that can be dug up from the burgeoning and accumulative stories involving characters that barely even make an appearance in comparison to key characters of the text: Miss Wade, and her overwhelming insecurities that are divulged in the sub-narrative 18th century style revelatory chapter “The History of a Self Tormentor”; The Patriarch of Bleeding Heart Yard, Mr Casby, who profits from the poverty of its residents and expects to “squeeze [them] for all they are worth” (BBC, 2013); the tug-boat Mr Pancks, whose spirited pronouncement, as his courage and wits are tested, proves to be one of the defining moments of the piece; and Mr F’s Aunt, who has a mere fifty or so lines amongst the monster 336,622, but manages to force out some of the most preposterously funny moments that you will experience in any great Dickens novel.


As always, Mr Dickens, you were tremendous.

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