18
Except one, which was apart from his necessary progress through
the mill. Time hustled him into a little noisy and rather dirty
machinery, in a by-corner, and made him Member of Parliament for
Coketown: one of the respected members for ounce weights and
measures, one of the representatives of the multiplication table,
one of the deaf honourable gentlemen, dumb honourable gentlemen,
blind honourable gentlemen, lame
honourable gentlemen, dead honourable gentlemen, to every other
consideration. Else wherefore live we in a Christian land, eigh
teen hundred and odd years after our Master? (p. 92).
I think now I have said most of what I really wanted to. I have not drawn
attention to the wonderful power of Dickens' language, the robustness of his
imagery - something I feel one should never fail to mention when talking of
Dickens. It's an imagery that can brighten one's life. I know, for instance that
in his gloriously irresponsible way (it is really very responsible), he has
given me one set of images that I always recur to when I feel that in this
country letterkunde is brushed aside as onwetenschappelijk and taalkunde some
how boosted as the true concern of the letterenfaculteit: then I quote the bit
about the experienced Miss Blimber, from Dr. Blimber's academy in Dombey and Son
Miss Blimber, too, although a slim and graceful maid, did no
soft violence to the gravity of the Academy. There was no light
nonsense about Miss Blimber, She kept her hair short and crisp,
and wore spectacles. She was dry and sandy with working in the
graves of deceased languages. None of your live languages for Miss
Blimber.They must be dead - stone dead - and then Miss Blimber
dug them up like a ghoul.
That's Dickens for you - a master at dismissing all that operates against the
richer workings of the human spirit. But I have gone on too long. And we might
say that the deadly statistical clock in the Gradgrind observatory has now
knocked on the head all the seconds I have been granted, and finally buried
them with his accustomed regularity.
Paterswolde David R.M. Wilkinson.
Note
1. Any one at all familiar with F.R. Leavis's articles on Hard Times and
Little Dorrit will realise how very indebted I am to his work.
