Hardly can
I let the day go by without some reference to the great novelist Charles
Dickens, whose 200th birthday it would have been today. I
first read Dickens as a college student, and instantly fell in love with the
numerous colourful characters that litter his books. I was dazzled by his gift for language,
dialogue in particular, and his ability to spin a good yarn with multiple
twists and turns that could lead you miles from where the story first
began. Who could not fall in love with the
tender young Pip, who was such a gentleman to begin with, although he didn’t
know it, or the pillar box that was Wemmick, with his portable property,
flag-pole and aged parent. I was bowled
over by the warmth of human kindness that flows throughout his stories; the selfless deeds of ‘A tale of Two Cities;
the brooding darkness and grime of ‘Our Mutual Friend’; and the warning against
unsuitable marriage that was ‘David Copperfield’.
But it was
the sweet humour of ‘The Pickwick Papers’ that kept coming to my mind today
when I thought of Dickens. Often his vast array of colourful characters are what
he is most remembered for, the Scrooges, Steerforths and Little Nells of
Dickensia, but let us not forget the slapstick, the witty retorts and the
situation comedy that makes Dickens live on in his books, and leaves a
lingering smile on our faces when we think on him.
Happy
Birthday Mr Dickens.
