David Copperfield

Not only is this Dickens' most autobiographical, but I feel this is the most well-rounded work in his canon and the peak of his career. Falling roughly in the middle of his bibliography, David Copperfield functions, in my opinion, as the transition from the young feel-good, satirical writer of comedic scenes and characters to the more mature, darker settings and is eager to become the potentially scathing critical writer of social commentary. David Copperfield exhibits Dickens' most intensive qualities at a large-scale here for perhaps the first time, but unlike Bleak House, Great Expectations or Our Mutual Friend to come, he retains the same light-hearted tone was known for. In essence, this is the most "Dickensian" of his novels, the show more quintessential Dickens, if you will. At least, that's the way I think of it. show less

This is not the first time I had read David Copperfield, it probably won't be the last either. There is always something new to see and discover - as verbose as Dickens tends to be, he also knows how to use these words and he builds such memorable characters that revisiting them is always bound to make you notice something more about them. As in most of his novels, it is the secondary characters that shine - David and his love life can be dull at times but there is always someone else in the frame - his aunt and Mr. Dick, the Peggotty family and Ms. Mowcher; the Micawbers and Agnes; Emily and Martha. Even the villains are full blooded - cruel, awful and despicable but oh so human. There is only one exception in the whole book and it is show more Dora - and even that makes sense to some extent - it almost feels like a protection mechanism from an older David who is trying to reconcile the love of his youth with all he had learned about himself - so she needs to become a perfect ghost, a presence which does not contradict his own heart.

One thing I never appreciated was how skillful Dickens is with the timing of the actions in the novel - modern editions rarely mark the serialization breaks. The edition I read had the original layout of the serialization (including the advertisements) and having to stop at the end of each installment (to either look at the ads or leaf through them to get to the next part) made me see the novel in a somewhat new light. It was always a novel of redemption for anyone even remotely good - even the incorrigible rascal Mr. Micawber manages to find his niche. It was always a novel of contrasts - Dora to Agnes, Mr. Murdstone to Mr. Peggotty, Uriah to Mrs. Micawber (in some things anyway - they both kept repeating what they are but only one of them meant it), Betsey Trotwood to Mrs. Steerforth - the more you look, the more pairs you will find. But reading the novel in its original installments added another layer to it - with contrasts (good/bad) between different installments and sometimes in the actions inside of the same one; with the choice of which characters to revisit in the same installment - some of those chapters which may sound almost as fill-in and removable in the novel, suddenly appear a lot more logical - they are fill-ins but they are necessary so that the installments work the way they were designed.

It was also interesting to see all the advertisements from those days - from books to alpaca umbrellas (what's with that?), from snake oil medicines to clothes (one of these even had a poem written in almost every installment). The world had changed a lot since then but some of the ads could be written for something today and still work... most of them around the "fast cure" and "solve your problems" variety and I am not entirely sure what that says about humanity. show less

Probably Dickens's best-known full-scale novel, and certainly his most personal from the numerous ways it draws on his own early life. We all love it because of the striking, scary childhood scenes: I'm sure I'm not the only one who has had nightmares about Mr Creakle's appalling school, the rat-infested blacking factory, or David's walk from London to Dover. And because — as always with Dickens — it's packed with memorable minor characters, most of them entirely gratuitous. There's absolutely no necessity in the plot for Miss Mowcher to be a dwarf hairdresser, but it wouldn't have been the same book without that. Best of all, of course, are the endlessly lovable Micawbers, the slimy villain Uriah Heep, and the feisty Miss Betsey show more Trotwood. But they are only the tip of a very large iceberg.

As usual, Dickens manages to get in some house-trained but still quite fierce social criticism, most of all in defence of his idea that childhood should be about fun and discovery, not being "firm" and "earnest" and prematurely taking on adult responsibilities. He also takes time off along the way to bash familiar targets like unregulated private schools, imprisonment for debt, and the continued existence of obsolete parasitic branches of the legal system (Doctors' Commons).

It's harder to get involved with what should be the main channel of the novel, the marriage plot. We know that there's only one way David's story can end, and it's hard not to find his wrong turnings along the way contrived and artificial, and to feel sorry for poor Dora who is so obviously only there in the story on condition that she can be eliminated when no longer convenient. I find myself dreaming up silly alternative endings in which Dora goes off to join Miss Mills in India where she learns to play the sitar in an ashram (David would meet her, many years later, lecturing on Eastern religions). Or Agnes gently refuses to marry David until she's finished her legal studies and taken control of her father's old firm. And it goes without saying that Em'ly really ought to return in triumph to Yarmouth with her Neapolitan husband and horde of bambini, to set up East Anglia's first pizzeria ("La piccola Emilia")... show less

This is the book that Dickens rated as his best, and I think he is right. The writing has a verve that is only patchily present in earlier works, and a maturity of style and thought not evident at all before this work. It is also the most autobiographical work, and situations such as Copperfield's embarrassment at school of his time working in a factory has a cringe that could only come from experience. Dickens often mentions memory, what triggers his memories, what memories are more vivid than others, almost like a precursor to Proust. The book has two memorable characters of Micawber, always waiting for something to turn up, and 'umble Uriah Heep that have gone on to be part of our shared culture. Having spent much of the last six show more months reading all Dickens' works in order of publication, and being disappointed by so much of his writing, it is a pleasure to enjoy this book, and to understand how how he came to have such a towering reputation. Great book. show less

I was thoroughly entertained by this and never found it a slog reading through its 800 plus pages--and that actually came as a surprise to me because I am by no means a Dickens fan. I decided to read this one because it's on the the list of 100 Significant Books I've been reading through--and because a friend told me that I should at least try this one before giving up on Dickens. This was actually his own favorite among his novels, and the one most autobiographical. Even knowing as little as I do of his life, I could certainly see plenty of parallels between the young Charles Dickens and David Copperfield. And especially given this was written in first person, this book has a confessional quality that drew me in and propelled me show more forward.

The thing is this novel I so enjoyed is guilty of every sin that so often drove me batty in Dickens: the rambling plot riddled with unlikely coincidences, the long, long length, the at times mawkish sentimentality, the phrases repeated again and again, the characterizations that often seemed more caricatures, and above all, the women characters that convince me Dickens thinks of the female gender as not quite human--or at least I felt so at first. David's mother Clara in particular drove me up the wall--I wanted to reach into the book and throttle her. It seemed to me in my reading of several of Dickens novels that his women run to four types or combinations and at first David Copperfield seemed no exception. There is the angelic creature who is often a victim, such as Clara, Little Em'ly, Agnes and Dora. There is the evil harridan such as Miss Murdstone or Rosa Dartle. There is the sacrificing Earth mother such as Peggoty. And finally, there is the (often rich) eccentric such as Betsy Trotwood. But ah, often the eccentric characters are so richly comic--and in the case of Trotwood there is more than initially met the eye--in fact I wasn't a third way through the novel before I loved her. And Agnes grew on me too. Not everyone's reaction--George Orwell, among others, despised the character. But she was the first female character who struck me as being a rational creature. But they're memorable--and not just the women. I don't think I'm ever going to forget Mr Micawber. I know I'll never forget Uriah Heep, the most odious, shudder-worthy villain I've met in literature.

So yes, after this book I got more of a sense of Dickens' charms. A Christmas Carol has been a favorite since childhood. And I did love Great Expectations--till the end, which I found a bit of a cheat. But I hated Oliver Twist and A Tale of Two Cities. It's David Copperfield that's convinced me I should try more of Dickens. It was worth traversing its long and winding length. show less

Much as I enjoyed rereading this, it's not among my five-star classics -- why? Agnes, that's why. Is it odd that I forgive the novel Dora more easily than I do Agnes? But the thing about Dora is that she's clearly set up to show the error of infantilizing adult women and imagining that the more like children they are, the better wives they will be. Plus I always, ALWAYS cry when she dies, which is well done by Dickens. Agnes, on the other hand, is idealized to the end. The chapter "Tempest" is splendid stuff, and the denunciation of HEEP is best read aloud...

I read this on a transatlantic flight, and I have to say, it's very awkward to cry on an airplane because Dora is dying. And it's not even that Dora is a great character! Copperfield and Dickens both infantilize her, and my modern-day feminist sensibilities gag at all that "child-wife" business. (Of course, I gag at a lot of Dickens: Exhibit A being Mr. Peggoty and that "country dress" he was bringing to Em'ly so she could humbly accompany him back as an honest woman and what the hell?)

But it doesn't matter that Dora is given the depth of a dime, because Dickens and I are on the same page regarding melodrama: the more, the better. Which is why I found myself, hunched in the window seat, attempting to surreptitiously conceal my tears as show more Dora bit the dust and my seatmates ate their complimentary peanuts. show less