Charles Dickens – Hard Times (1954)
Novel – 310 pages – my copy (paperback; 1985) bought for 50p from Plymouth Library, October 2009
- 4 nods out of 5 -
The Oliver Twists and David Copperfields are the common heroes of the literary landscape of Dickens; always comfortable stacked upon the book shelves of shops and continually, sometimes relentlessly remade by film makers and, particularly, the BBC. Hard Times may be a lesser known quantity; but alongside its book-siblings it is never put in the shade.
Novel – 310 pages – my copy (paperback; 1985) bought for 50p from Plymouth Library, October 2009
- 4 nods out of 5 -
The Oliver Twists and David Copperfields are the common heroes of the literary landscape of Dickens; always comfortable stacked upon the book shelves of shops and continually, sometimes relentlessly remade by film makers and, particularly, the BBC. Hard Times may be a lesser known quantity; but alongside its book-siblings it is never put in the shade.
One of Dickens’ more later novels, Hard Times is a story with many plots and sub-plots, characters that being strong then fade away; yet it is not the narrative that makes it such an interesting read, but rather its attack on the prevalent belief in the Victorian world that everyone and everything must be accounted for and put to good use.
‘Now, what I want is, Facts!’ exclaims Mr Gradgrind in the book’s opening (p.47). Gradgrind and his fellow fact-fiend, Bounderby (described wonderfully as ‘the bully of humility’) pursue the shaping of society in their image. Dickens, himself a former child of the workhouse, attacks and makes a mockery of what is primarily the Benthamite philosophy; unfolding the events and the characters into expressing their feelings, their desires and their fears.
This is not to say that the book does not contain more than its fair share of Dickensian qualities: there are the characters (Bounderby in particular) as well as the dismal, dreary landscape, this time in the north of England; ‘a town of machinery and tall chimneys, out of which interminable serpents of smoke trailed themselves for ever and ever’ (p.65). Furthermore, there is the return of a lost relative: the seeming hallmark of all Dickens novels!
Although the anticipated mother’s reunion is a dampener on the proceedings, even more annoying is the dialect speech of one of the workers, Stephen: ‘…Gonnows I ha’ none how that’s o’ my makin’…’ (p.174). More than two paragraphs is enough for the Worm to shout: ‘No more!’ However, the quality is so high that such a niggling critique can easily be ignored. Most of the prose confirms Dickens position as one of our greatest, most loved novelists:
‘He stood bare-headed in the road, watching her quick disappearance. As the shining stars were to the heavy candle in the window, so was Rachel, in the rugged fancy of this man, to the common experiences of his life’ (p.126).
This time is, indeed, one in which a call for heroes is needed; Dickens answers this with the invention of Stephen, the run-down yet thoroughly honest work-man. Whilst the true hero here is not a person, as such, but rather the qualities of love and affection; qualities which, stresses Dickens, are needed to overcome the darkness of a modern world.
