The eponymous Nicholas Nickleby travels to London with his mother and sister, Kate, following the death of his father which leaves his family penniless.  There he seeks help from their only remaining relative, Ralph Nickleby, who has no desire to assist Nicholas at all, and quickly packs him off to Yorkshire to take a low-paying job as assistant to the wicked school master Wackford Squeers.  After witnessing the cruelty that goes on at Dotheboys Hall, Nicholas finds himself unable to stop himself intervening as Squeers punishes a particularly wretched boy known as Smike and is forced to flee back to London following his actions.  THere he must once again find work to support his family, while defending his sister from the lecherous advances of Sir Mulberry Hawk and attempting to trace a mysterious lady he has seen.

There is much to be enjoyed in Nicholas Nickleby.  The plot is engaging and its episodic structure, a legacy of publication in installments no doubt, causes it to tear along at an impressive pace, surprising considering the size (not to mention the tiny print) of the volume.  The tone of the writing is often light and comic and it is populated by a whole host of entertaining caricatures, by turns repulsive and delightful, with equally entertaining names.  Who could fail to be intrigued by such intriguing, and indeed revealing, names as Smike, Newman Noggs, Madame Mantalini, Sir Mulberry Hawk, Lord Frederick Verisopht, the brothers Cheeryble and of course, Wackford Squeers?

The problem with Nicholas Nickleby is that, even with my limited experience of Dickens, I was able to guess exactly what would happen to every last character the moment that they were introduced.  This of course is not a problem in and of itself: there are plenty of authors whose books I love who are equally predictable.  So often in literature it is not where and author goes with a book but the way in which they get there that is of interest, and this is something that I didn’t find wholly satisfying with Nicholas Nickleby.  Dickens is by no means a concise writer and is often unnecessarily verbose, particularly when he was grinding the axe of social injustice.  I know that he writes social satire and that his novels were intended to bring the plight of the urban poor to the attention of the masses, but as a reader I think they detract from the story with their length and sentimentalism.

I also found that, much as I enjoy Dickens’ well-written and insightful caricatures, I missed the presence of more developed and believable characters in the novel.  This was particularly apparent with the young female characters, Kate Nickleby and Madeline Bray.  They seem to have no function other than to be good, beautiful and submissive and act as lures for the evil gentlemen and ultimate rewards for their good counterparts.  The two are so similar that they are virtually interchangeable, and I wish that they had at least a few distinguishing features and character traits.  From the amount of times I’ve heard Little Dorrit referred to as ‘Little Doormat’ it would seem that this might be a problem which extends beyond Nicholas Nickleby into Dickens’ other works.  I really hope that isn’t the case.

Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens.  Published by Odhams, 1930, pp. 764.  Originally published in serial, 1838-1839.

Author: Charlotte Bronte

Published: Penguin, 1995, pp. 55

Genre: Classic juvenilia

Blurb: Set in the imaginary kingdom of Angria, Charlotte Bronte’s early story of the Duke of Zamorna and his loyal mistress, Mina Laury, demonstrates the birth of her lifelong obsession with the degrees and forms of human passion.

When, where and why: I had never heard of this story, or indeed of any Charlotte Bronte juvenilia, before I happend to stumble across this book while browsing BookMooch.  I decided to read it now in a vain attempt to reduce my TBR pile as it edges dangerously close to 500.

What I thought: It is very clear from reading this book that Charlotte Bronte’s skills and sensibilities developed a lot in between the time that this was written and the time when Jane Eyre emerged.  Although her style remains similar, in her novels the language is less florid, the characters more individual, the heroines more mature and the plot much tighter.  It was interesting to read Mina Laury from this perspective, but I personally don’t think that it has much to recommend it in and of itself.

Confusingly, both the eponymous Mina Laury (mistress of the Duke of Zamorna) and Mary (wife of the Duke of Zamorna) speak with indistinguishable voices.  Both are young, attractive, and entirely without backbone, something Charlotte Bronte thankfully amends by the time she creates the wonderful Jane Eyre.  They are also both hopelessly in love with the Duke, in spite of the fact that he has the incredibly unheroic, unromantic name of Adrian (I think Sue Townsend has coloured this name for me somewhat).  The Duke seems to respond passionately to both women in the same way at different times, so I was thoroughly confused as to with whom he was supposedly in love.

Not only are the characters rather lacking, the story is convoluted and confused.  When an author ends their work saying:

I have done my best to please you, and though I know that through feebleness, dullness, and iteration my work terminates in failure rather than triumph, yet you are bound to forgive it, for I have done my best– (p. 55)

…it is apparent that this isn’t exactly their best work.  However, in this case I don’t think it was helped by the edition which abridges the story considerably, including large summaries in parentheses before switching to a completely unconnected scene.  It made the story feel very disjointed and I can’t help wondering if some of the character problems weren’t smoothed over a bit in the gaps.

Where this book goes: This one is heading back to BookMooch to find a new home.  I will however look into getting hold of a full volume of Charlotte Bronte’s juvenilia to replace it so that I can read this properly and give it a fighting chance.

Tea talk: I read this on the train coming home from work.  Train tea is vile.