A timely commentary: having bought books all my life with the intention of furnishing my retirement years, I am now reading, or re-reading, all of Dickens. They didn't appeal to me when I was young, and I feel the classic Hollywood adaptations of his best known works may have been responsible: having been stripped of the details that make Dickens Dickens, they would be watched on a black and white television (no loss as they were of the black and white era) simply because there was nothing else on. I'm now about half way through the volumes in chronological order, and have just emerged from Martin Chuzzlewit and dived into the first collection of Christmas stories. Dickens has an infectious joy in detail, and his love for the people he observes and works into his tales is apparent. My previous expeditions into Victorian literature (all of Trollope and Mrs Gaskell—if I am allowed to give her the name under which she published) were enjoyable, but I wish I hadn't left Dickens alone so long. Absolutely, they are entertainments rather than novels (thank you, Mr Greene), and being written as serials has affected their structure to some extent. One gets used to the adversity, misunderstandings and disasters of the early chapters, always knowing there will be a delicious come-uppance at the end, and he was not afraid to stint that part, with most or all getting their due deserts at the end. He is generous in tying up those loose ends. I doubt I'll have the opportunity to read them again after I complete them, and I regret that, but I shall not regret reading them all now.
So it seems I am a bit of a latecomer to Dickens, like Burgess. I hope that he enjoyed them as much as I am.
Thank you for this thoughtful comment. Your view on Dickens aligns with Burgess's and he did end up rereading Dickens frequently. He did claim at one point that he read the complete works every year. Make what you will of that.
A timely commentary: having bought books all my life with the intention of furnishing my retirement years, I am now reading, or re-reading, all of Dickens. They didn't appeal to me when I was young, and I feel the classic Hollywood adaptations of his best known works may have been responsible: having been stripped of the details that make Dickens Dickens, they would be watched on a black and white television (no loss as they were of the black and white era) simply because there was nothing else on. I'm now about half way through the volumes in chronological order, and have just emerged from Martin Chuzzlewit and dived into the first collection of Christmas stories. Dickens has an infectious joy in detail, and his love for the people he observes and works into his tales is apparent. My previous expeditions into Victorian literature (all of Trollope and Mrs Gaskell—if I am allowed to give her the name under which she published) were enjoyable, but I wish I hadn't left Dickens alone so long. Absolutely, they are entertainments rather than novels (thank you, Mr Greene), and being written as serials has affected their structure to some extent. One gets used to the adversity, misunderstandings and disasters of the early chapters, always knowing there will be a delicious come-uppance at the end, and he was not afraid to stint that part, with most or all getting their due deserts at the end. He is generous in tying up those loose ends. I doubt I'll have the opportunity to read them again after I complete them, and I regret that, but I shall not regret reading them all now.
So it seems I am a bit of a latecomer to Dickens, like Burgess. I hope that he enjoyed them as much as I am.
Thank you for this thoughtful comment. Your view on Dickens aligns with Burgess's and he did end up rereading Dickens frequently. He did claim at one point that he read the complete works every year. Make what you will of that.