Nicholas Nickleby

Before Ebenezer Scrooge, there was Ralph Nickleby. In Nicholas Nickleby, Dicken's third novel published in 1839, Dickens combines the humor of Pickwick Papers with the graphic social ills of Oliver Twist. Our hero is a young man named Nicholas Nickleby whose father recently died, leaving his son, daughter, and wife nearly destitute. When they travel to London to seek help from their miserly Uncle Ralph, they have no conception of the struggles they will face as they learn to survive in a hard world. From the crowded streets of impersonal London to the flamboyant color and drama of the stage, Nicholas' adventures are thoroughly entertaining. Please be advised that there are spoilers to follow.

The characters are brilliant. Dickens, you've show more gone and done it again — created characters I love and many I hate, with a few weak ones in between that I'm just glad I don't have to deal with in real life! The Cheerybles, the Crummles, Tim Linkinwater, and dear Miss La Creevy are great fun, and their warmhearted goodness more than balances the evil characters. Over the top they may be, but they live vibrantly in the novel, and I won't forget them. And the villains are wonderfully villainous: Ralph Nickleby, a great Dickensian misanthrope, Mr. and Mrs. Squeers, the epitome of selfish, blatant cruelty, silly and malicious Miss Squeers, greedy Wackford Jr., and the dissipated debauchee Sir Mulberry Hawk. Dickens' character names are delicious, as usual... Peg Sliderskrew, Arthur Gride, Mr. Lillyvick, and the rest.

Despite the heaviness of the subject matter — the nauseating abuse and neglect occurring in Yorkshire boarding schools of the time, the plight of women who are prey to rapacious men, the agony of poverty — Dickens still manages to infuse his story with some wonderful humor. Whether it's the wry narrative voice ("Mr. Squeers's appearance was not prepossessing. He had but one eye, and the general prejudice runs in favour of two"), the characters' own merriment (John Browdie, your laugh is infectious even from the page), or the ridiculous comic situations (like Mrs. Nickleby's senile admirer coming down the chimney to find her), there is much to laugh over in these pages. It's one of the things Dickens does so well: mixing the heavy and/or melodramatic moments with unabashed humor that is still funny today.

One of the darker themes of the story is how female beauty is a commodity to be bought and sold like anything else. Dickens represents this as a heinous evil, and if he over-glorifies the delicacy and virginity of his two young heroines, I can forgive him because of his anger toward their oppressors and concern for their happiness. Early in the story he indignantly notes that the birth dates of girls were never recorded, just those of boys. Modern feminism may find Dickens a bit of a soft chauvinist, but he shouldn't be judged by standards he never knew. It's more fair (and enjoyable) to look at the gender issues of his work in the context of his own historical period, not ours. Dickens is rather like Victor Hugo in this way.

Sometimes Dickens' social and moral causes get away from him and take over the narrative. In one scene Nicholas gives a lengthy diatribe against playwrights who steal the plots of struggling novelists (clearly Dickens had NO personal experience with such abuses!). The diatribe is intelligent and eloquent, but rather odd in the mouth of Nicholas, who had no previous experience in the story with that particular evil and who could hardly have been expected to possess such an articulate opinion on it. It's a technical flaw to make Nicholas a mouthpiece in such a clumsy way, though I can understand the indignation that prompted Dickens to do so.

There have been several film adaptations of the story, but the only one I have seen is the 2002 version written and directed by Douglas McGrath and starring Charlie Hunnam, Anne Hathaway, Christopher Plummer, Romola Garai, Jim Broadbent, and Jamie Bell. The film itself is gorgeous, and I loved the opening credits rolling in front of the painted miniature stage props; such a nice allusion to the theatrical nature of the story. The casting and acting are excellent, for the most part (with some slight qualms about Hunnam's Nicholas, but nothing major). As in the book, John Browdie is a wonderfully congenial and funny character, and Jim Broadbent and Juliet Stevenson as the Squeers are truly sadistic in a very dark (rather than maudlin) way. It was nice to see Timothy Spall (who plays Peter Pettigrew in the Harry Potter films) play a good guy in Charles Cheeryble. Romola Garai was lovely as Kate, and Ralph Nickleby's character is handled deftly by Christopher Plummer.

As expected, parts of the story were condensed or completely dropped from the film: no Kenwigs, no Mantalinis, no Arthur Gride (Hawk takes his part), no Tim Linkinwater (he is conflated with Frank Cheeryble), barely any Miss La Creevy, no inheritance for Madeline, and no duel between Lord Frederick Verisopht and Sir Mulberry Hawk (though Verisopht does keep his brave speech!), to name a few. But though I am generally a purist, I do understand that some things will have to be cut in the process of adapting an almost eight-hundred-page novel to a two-hour film. Compressing events, changing a letter to a face-to-face confrontation, and making other similar changes don't bother me overmuch as long as there is a good reason. It's when the screenwriters start changing characters and plotlines dramatically that I have a problem. That didn't happen in this film, thankfully. Nicholas Nickleby is considerably more serious than McGrath's Emma starring Gwyneth Paltrow, but it has hints of the same light humorous touch in places. Overall, I enjoyed it very much.

This story is complete with all the unlikely coincidences requisite for a good Dickens. Sometimes the characters are a bit too dramatically Victorian to seem realistic, but you've just got to go with it. Yes, characters will die in each other's arms; yes, it's going to take Kate three days to compose herself after her first assault by Sir Mulberry Hawk; yes, Newman Noggs will devote his life to the enemies of his employer Ralph Nickleby out of sheer revenge. And somehow it all works. I don't think that Nicholas Nickleby is considered one of Dickens' stronger works, but I loved it and would probably rate it third among my favorites (right behind Pickwick Papers and Bleak House). Nicholas is an engaging, imperfect, humorous character who really grows into his strength throughout the course of the novel, and I greatly enjoyed cheering him on. Bravo, Dickens! show less

Swinging from the deplorable to the humorous to humility and kindness, this book has it all. Nicholas, a sweet soul with a temper, makes enemies of his wealthy uncle and a despicable teacher in his first job as his assistant. Saving a mistreated worker in the teacher’s household, Smike, they join an acting troupe—until they must rush back to London to save Nicholas’s sister from the machinations of that uncle. There he lands a job with the most noble businessmen, and slowly he tries to right wrongs inflicted on Smike and many others. Dickens’ sympathy for Smike, with a mental disability, is astounding for his time. I adored this book. Sometimes I wanted to bail because of the descriptions of the wicked treatment of small boys, show more but I’m glad I stuck it out. Dickens had a huge heart, and this book delves deeply into it. Highly recommended. show less

Although not one of Dickens' most renowned works, I very much enjoyed Nicholas Nickleby. The son of a country gentleman ruined by bad advice, Nicholas Nickleby seeks the help of his Uncle Ralph when his father dies leaving the family destitute. Ralph Nickleby is a scheming, miserly usurer, and instead of helping his brother's family, sends Nicholas to work for a vicious schoolmaster, installs his sister Kate and their mother in a hovel of a flat, and forces Kate to work long hours as a seamstress. After many trials, however, good wins out and the bad get their just desserts.

As always, Dickens' side characters are simply delightful, and even the evil ones are entertaining. There are some very funny scenes which help counterbalance the show more horrors of the ill-treatment of the schoolboys at the beginning. The gender stereotypes were more pronounced in this novel as opposed to Bleak House, for instance, and I wished that Kate had a little more backbone. All in all, however, I enjoyed spending more time with Dickens' storytelling and the inestimable Simon Vance's narration. show less

In Nicholas Nickleby we find Dickens consolidating his approach begun in his two previous novels, returning to some of the humor found in Pickwick while continuing the social criticism begun in Oliver Twist. The focus is on boys' boarding schools in Yorkshire which were notorious for their poor conditions. Early in 1838 Dickens visited the schools in Yorkshire accompanied by his illustrator Hablot Browne and Dickens used some of his experiences in his novel. With Nicholas Nickleby comes Dickens first attempt using a young man as his protagonist and incorporating the bildungsroman style into the novel along with the picaresque approach that was so effective in Pickwick Papers. The novel begins with Nicholas and his sister Kate and their show more mother destitute upon the death of their father. Turning to their uncle, Ralph Nickleby, they find a man comparable to Dicken's later creation, Marley, (whose ghost will torment Scrooge). Nicholas is sent to Mr. Wackford Squeer's Academy, Dotheboys Hall where he assists Mr. Squeers. His education is immediate and jolting to his refined character.
Some of Dickens' main themes the theater. It is a passion of Dickens and that passion is quite evident in this novel. Once Nicholas has left the "boys' school" run by the Squeers he soon takes up with a theater troupe. He is successful translating plays from French into English and doing some acting. This leads me to the theme of illusion and reality. There are examples of this in almost every chapter. In the first scenes of the novel we see Nicholas' family lose their modest wealth when his father's investments are more illusory than real. Nicholas' mother turns to her brother-in-law for help upon the death of her husband only to find any notion of family bonds is also an illusion. Of course the "school" where Nicholas is posted by his uncle Ralph is an utter illusion, much to the detriment of the boys confined therein. As we read further in the novel we find that characters are more likely to not be what they first seem to be; finally, it is somewhat ironic that Nicholas would find himself in a theater troupe learning the profession of creating illusions for a paying audience.

The number of characters seems to grow geometrically as is typical in most of Dicken's novels, but most of the characters introduced so far are interesting enough to keep the reader's attention. Nicholas' growth and education (this novel is a bildungsroman of sorts) is the most interesting aspect of the novel for this reader. But I wonder what it would be like to have the story told from the point of view of his sister Kate? The city of London is very much a character in the novel with Dickens sharing his love for this city more than once probably drawing on the experiences he had on the long walks that he often took (cf. pp. 390 & 446, and 2) the narrator includes brief comments on the state of novel-writing itself (p. 345).

Nicholas Nickleby ends well for Nicholas and his sister Kate. Along with their mother they can look forward to a much brighter future than the one that they faced as the novel began. In creating this 'happy' ending Dickens left many of the most eccentric comic characters by the wayside, gone are the Crummles and Miss Knagg along with other minor characters left by the wayside. Whether this is a flaw in the novel (perhaps) or not the last section of the story does move rapidly to tie up loose ends and provide answers to the more intricate mysteries of relations among the characters. For the details of these answers I suggest you read the novel.

In spite of its seeming lack of structure, a claim which is belied by the strong arcs of both Nicholas' education in life and Ralph Nickleby's search for rewards for his greed and miserliness, the novel is Dickens' first success in the genre (his previous three books being journalistic and picaresque treats, but not novels). One theme that is embodied in this novel is expressed by Newman Noggs as Nicholas despairs that the schemes of Ralph and Arthur Gride will defeat him, his family and Madeline Bray (his one true love). Newman responds with what may be considered the main theme of the novel:

'Hope to the last,' said Newman, clapping him on the back. 'Always hope, that's a dear boy. Never leave off hoping, it don't answer. Don't leave a stone unturned. It's always something to know know you've done the most you could. But don't leave off hoping, or it's of no use doing anything. Hope, hope to the last!'
- p. 641, Nicholas Nickleby

As a reader you have hope for the good in Nicholas and Newman and John Browdie with the support of the Cherryble brothers; and, you have hope that the evil of Ralph Nickleby, Gride and Squeers will receive justice. You hope to the last. show less

This is the first time I have ever managed to finish a book by Charles Dickens. It was actually recommended to me as one of his more accessible novels, so thanks to the recommender for a good choice. One of the things that makes it more readable than [b:Oliver Twist|18254|Oliver Twist|Charles Dickens|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1327868529s/18254.jpg|3057979] or [b:Great Expectations|2623|Great Expectations|Charles Dickens|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1327920219s/2623.jpg|2612809]is that at the start of the book the protagonist is an adult, not a child. This means that he has a bit more agency and doesn't just spend the first 200 pages getting neglected and mistreated as in the other two Dickens novels I've attempted.

That's the show more good part. I have two main beefs with Dickens' writing in general and this particular novel is no exception. Beef number 1 is just a stylistic one. In his attempt to maintain a light and cheerful tone, the author's attempts at irony are often just saying the opposite. So when Dickens describes "those stories of engrossing interest which are to be found in the more antiquated spelling-books" we all undersstand that he means that the stories are dull. In that sense it's technically irony, but it's irony without purpose. Frequently he confuses saying-the-opposite with irony, but irony needs to have a purpose, a reason that the speaker is distancing themself from the statement they are making - eg. in this case the purpose might be to lampoon the person who thinks these stories are interesting, but no-one thinks this. Without purpose it's just a moment of dissonance, of negativity. So, the point here is that a light, chirpy writing style needs to have wit, or it just comes across as sarcastic. In passages Dickens has loads of wit, in other long sections there was just not enough to engage me.

Beef number two (remember we were counting beefs. Stay with me) is the characterisation, or should I say caricaturisation. There are no characters in this book, there are only cliches and types and because they are so paper thin all the characters are eventually unlikeable. Remember that moment in one of the David Tennant series of Dr Who when he joins in a soccer game and is brilliant at it? Instead of liking him more, I liked him much, much less. The character of Nicholas Nickleby has a kind of moral sonic screwdriver that solves all problems and quickly becomes tedious. We want our heroes to fail sometimes and we want them to make compromises. Or at least I do. Dickens' enduring popularity and respect obviously make that generalisation incorrect. Having said that, I actually found Nicholas Nickleby to be the least unlikeable character. The baddies are so relentlessly evil that it's impossible to think of them as human and the goodies are so weak, stupid, helpless or unlikely as to be highly punchable within five pages of their introduction.

Finally I'll note that I don't take pleasure in seeing people get their comeuppance. When a miserable person who did terrible things suffers for their actions, it's a sad occasion, not a cause for gloating and celebration (this is not a spoiler as there are many baddies in this book, so you'll have to read to find out where and whether just deserts are distributed). Dickens' vindictive kind of morality differs so greatly from mine as to be somewhat offensive and I couldn't enjoy scenes that I think I was supposed to rub my hands at.

So, this book is a good choice if you want to say you've read Dickens, or if you love Dickens, but otherwise, read [b:Jane Eyre|10210|Jane Eyre|Charlotte Brontë|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1327867269s/10210.jpg|2977639] for an idea of what 19th century literature can be. show less

Of course this is a classic, and it deserves to be, so we can go right past the “Is this a good book?” question.

The story was originally published in a series of 19 monthly installments. Dickens knew how to make a story engaging — 19 episodes is a long way to go, keeping the reader interested and compelled to find out what happens next, over and over again, episode to episode. That’s genius.

The story starts with an accounting of the background of the Nickleby family tree, leading up to where the action starts with the death of Nicholas’s father and the impoverishment of his family — Nicholas, his sister Kate, and their mother.

The family is thrown into a kind of moral and existential battle with the world, having been show more expelled from a comfortable if not idyllic life. They depend on the good wishes of Nicholas’s uncle Ralph, and Ralph is pretty short on good wishes.

And the world Nicholas, Kate, and their mother encounter is not full of picnics and rainbows. I won’t try to catalogue the corruption, the cruelty, the pettiness, and the venality. The highlights are the schoolmaster Squeers and good old Ralph himself. Both have bottomless senses of morality, if you can call them that at all. And both are unforgettable, iconic characters.

The plot is better than simple good vs. evil, but it’s that, too. Nicholas and Kate are almost preternaturally good, like angels sent from another world to punish the wrong and avenge the wronged. The plot is a collision between the world of corruption and cruelty championed by Squeers and Ralph and the world of virtue championed by Nicholas and Kate.

Dickens’ world in the novel has a moral physics — it’s a character in itself. I don’t want to say too much and spoil the ending(s) for anyone who doesn’t already know. But there are some natural laws at work in the moral world Dickens creates — greed leads to self-loathing, virtue leads to happiness, and one good turn really does lead to another. On that last point, Nicholas is a virtual magnet of good karma.

The London that Dickens portrays is a hell of pretense, class arrogance, parasitism, all with a bass line of desperation. A portrait of a culture and an economy that is fatally diseased, lacking the interventions of people like Nicholas, Kate, and the Cheerybles. The Cheerybles uniquely combine the virtues of success, charity, loyalty, . . . you name it. They are the patch of color in a gray London fog of petty malice. Nicholas and Kate are warriors taking up the same cause. I think I’ve mixed some metaphors.

While I’m thinking about it, something about Kate. I think a book called “The Life and Adventures of Kate Nickleby” would be fascinating. I wish I had the skill to write it. While Kate manifests the distinct feminine virtues of the time — she’s quiet, beautiful, and has charms to almost tame even the savage Ralph (at least momentarily) — her story is a feminine mirror of Nicholas’s. And I think, if we filled out the action, e.g., how she manages the deprecations, insults, and terrors dealt by Ralph, Sir Mulberry, and Arthur Gride, how she protects her mother’s pride and even temper, we’d find much more complexity in her story and depth to her character than may be apparent.

Smike is another character with depth worth reflecting on. He’s not so much a warrior as he is a victim, but a victim who will not sacrifice pride. He and Newman Noggs are survivors in hell, survivors in the sense in which they preserve character when they could be tempted into amoral vengeance (not ruling out moral vengeance, which is one of the games of the day).

Also one comparison that brings out the point about Dickens’ moral physics. As I read, I thought of de Sade’s book, Justine (written about fifty years earlier and set in an almost equally decadent France). De Sade’s maybe too obvious message in the book is that virtue doesn’t pay (after all, its subtitle is “The Misfortunes of Virtue”). In his moral universe, virtue is for losers. None of those natural laws of Dickens’ universe hold.

Dickens’ novel can almost be read as a rejection of de Sade’s world and an affirmation of the potential for the goodness embodied in Nicholas (and Kate). Dickens makes the point very sharply when he says, “In short, the poor Nicklebys were social and happy; while the rich Nickleby was alone and miserable.” show less

Before there was Scrooge, there was Ralph Nickleby. Years before “A Christmas Carol,” Charles Dickens had already created a character in “Nicholas Nickleby” who could have given Scrooge lessons in miserliness.

The novel, published in 1838, opens with the death of Ralph's brother, making him responsible for his brother's widow and her two grown but not yet independent children, Nicholas and Kate. First he moves them into much more humble accommodations, then finds Nicholas a position as a tutor in a boy's school far from London. With the brother out of the way, he uses pretty Kate to entice two playboy noblemen into some business dealings, unmindful of what might happen to Kate afterward.

Nicholas soon discovers the headmaster at show more the school to be abusive toward the boys in his care. He flees with one of those boys and finds himself for a time with a wandering theater group before learning of his sister's situation. When he returns to rescue her, a long struggle between uncle and nephew begins, with many complications and adventures.

“Nicholas Nickleby” was not a successful novel in its day, at least in comparison with “Oliver Twist,” but it is hard to understand why. While it may not be one of the best novels Dickens wrote, it provides nonstop entertainment (except for one chapter that is obviously just padding and could be skipped without missing any of the story). It would make an excellent entry-level Dickens novel for those intimidated by that author's reputation for meandering plots and multitudes of characters. Here the plot rarely strays far from the Nicklebys, and the characters, while plentiful, are easy to keep straight. If the reader becomes confused about who a character is, Dickens soon enough makes it clear.

This was one of the early Dickens novels. He was still learning the game he would soon master, but we can already find evidence of some of the writer's greatest personal interests and concerns, among them the plight of boys in schools operated for profit, young women coerced into careers in the sex trade and the theater, his greatest love, perhaps even including writing.

There's humor here (Mrs. Nickleby ranks among his greatest comic characters), an abundance of romance (the clergy will have all the weddings they can handle by the end of the novel) and all the plot twists a reader could want. It's a massive novel, of course, but this is Dickens in an age when writers were paid for bulk. When a novel is this much fun, however, size is more blessing than curse. show less