It’s been ten years, or more, since I’ve read Dickens. I did the first 4 chapters of Hard Times a couple years ago for an AP workshop. That’s it. The joke (which actually wasn’t a joke), made best in the Coens’ The Man who Wasn’t There, is of course that he was getting paid by the word.
The beginning of Chapter Two, describing the “slummy” music district outside of the Opera house maintains just that. But damned if it isn’t a full atmosphere shared, damned if it isn’t good reading, and damned if the Daily Lit chunks aren’t just the right amount to read of something like these descriptions.
Things the description of the alley of Ralph Nickleby’s home/office made me think of- Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell(no surprise there, as I’ve been engrossed in it for two months), T.S.’ “Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,”- especially Eliot’s description of the smoke filled streets, etc. Love that poem.
And of course, it’s appropriate that as I’m posting this, I’m on AIM with a dear friend and former student of mine- the be-bearded (a word I just coined) Joseph L. He’s an opera singer, with a beard, and all these musicians in slum alley practicing during the day, hanging around the box office at night, and, for some reason, bearded, just felt very synchronous with the fact that as soon as I stopped reading about the description of music/opera alley, there was Joseph.
Filed under: Novels | Tagged: Books, Dickens, Nicholas Nickleby
