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A Tale of Two Cities is the best-known work of historical fiction by the first classical English writer I have read and loved. A couple of strong reviews convinced me to spend some time with Dickens and allow him to regale me with a good yarn set against the background of the French Revolution during the Victorian era. My aversion to history as a subject in school has compelled me to turn to good historical fiction for information about the significant past, and Dickens did not disappoint.
A social critic of his time, Dickens provided an outstanding documentation of the French Revolution. He rendered a vivid portrayal of the heinous oppression of the lower classes, the hatred that simmered, brewed, and finally took Paris by storm, the guillotine that served as the ultimate instrument of vengeance, and the copious shedding of blood for which no human trespass could be atoned. I have to admit that reading Dickens is no walk in the park. His style of writing is dense and elaborate; some may even find it turgid and longwinded. Three chapters into the story and I almost wanted to quit England and Paris. Yet, there were scenes so tangibly described I saw them vividly in my mind’s eye and I knew that for these gems alone, it would be worthwhile to persevere. A memorable scene was the wine shop on a day when a cask of wine was accidently spilled and the people gathered to scoop up pools of the unexpected bounty that were dammed by the uneven stones. Picture this: "The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled. It had stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and many wooden shoes." There was a playful celebratory mood in this scene but it poignantly foreshadowed the carnage to follow: "The time was to come, when that wine too would be spilled on the street stones, and when the stain of it would be red upon many there.”
A Tale of Two Cities is a tale not just about England and France but also a tale about the two selves that are inherent in several of the key characters. Dr. Manette, was an eminent French doctor, a quiet thinking man who at his best served the poor and sickly. Eighteen years of wrongful incarceration in the Bastille reduced him to a traumatized wreck who took up shoemaking to cope with his losses. Madam Defarge, wife of the wine shop owner first impressed as a disarming woman who sat behind the wine counter merrily knitting; but she was at her core a fiery gun- and dagger-wielding revolutionary incapable of mercy. The character that moved me the most was Sydney Carton, a junior barrister, who came across as morose, brooding, and unapproachable. He was a bit like a durian – all thorny on the outside but soft on the inside. Carton had a magnanimity that can make you weep. He knew that his love for Dr. Manette’s daughter (Lucie) was hopeless; all he asked was that she ‘would think now and then that there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you.’ Dickens, being the master storyteller that he was, did not allow Carton to forget this pledge he made, and by the time the novel ended, I had to hold back tears on Carton’s account.
A Tale of Two Cities, in my view, is about the struggle between good and evil. It is manifested in the unimaginable suffering that the aristocrats imposed on the poor and lowly, the prevalent social injustice that bred resentment, hatred, and hardness of heart. It is frightening how the oppressed became the oppressor and spared no thought for innocent folks whose gall they themselves had tasted. It is also displayed in the nobility of those who were willing to make personal sacrifices for the betterment of their kinsmen, to take up arms for a just cause, and to push for change. The challenge for the characters in the two cities was in knowing when to stop the fervor to do what they perceived to be right and just while traversing the slippery slope where good tended toward evil.
A Tale of Two Cities reminds me again why Dickens is not a good but a great novelist.
A social critic of his time, Dickens provided an outstanding documentation of the French Revolution. He rendered a vivid portrayal of the heinous oppression of the lower classes, the hatred that simmered, brewed, and finally took Paris by storm, the guillotine that served as the ultimate instrument of vengeance, and the copious shedding of blood for which no human trespass could be atoned. I have to admit that reading Dickens is no walk in the park. His style of writing is dense and elaborate; some may even find it turgid and longwinded. Three chapters into the story and I almost wanted to quit England and Paris. Yet, there were scenes so tangibly described I saw them vividly in my mind’s eye and I knew that for these gems alone, it would be worthwhile to persevere. A memorable scene was the wine shop on a day when a cask of wine was accidently spilled and the people gathered to scoop up pools of the unexpected bounty that were dammed by the uneven stones. Picture this: "The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled. It had stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and many wooden shoes." There was a playful celebratory mood in this scene but it poignantly foreshadowed the carnage to follow: "The time was to come, when that wine too would be spilled on the street stones, and when the stain of it would be red upon many there.”
A Tale of Two Cities is a tale not just about England and France but also a tale about the two selves that are inherent in several of the key characters. Dr. Manette, was an eminent French doctor, a quiet thinking man who at his best served the poor and sickly. Eighteen years of wrongful incarceration in the Bastille reduced him to a traumatized wreck who took up shoemaking to cope with his losses. Madam Defarge, wife of the wine shop owner first impressed as a disarming woman who sat behind the wine counter merrily knitting; but she was at her core a fiery gun- and dagger-wielding revolutionary incapable of mercy. The character that moved me the most was Sydney Carton, a junior barrister, who came across as morose, brooding, and unapproachable. He was a bit like a durian – all thorny on the outside but soft on the inside. Carton had a magnanimity that can make you weep. He knew that his love for Dr. Manette’s daughter (Lucie) was hopeless; all he asked was that she ‘would think now and then that there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you.’ Dickens, being the master storyteller that he was, did not allow Carton to forget this pledge he made, and by the time the novel ended, I had to hold back tears on Carton’s account.
A Tale of Two Cities, in my view, is about the struggle between good and evil. It is manifested in the unimaginable suffering that the aristocrats imposed on the poor and lowly, the prevalent social injustice that bred resentment, hatred, and hardness of heart. It is frightening how the oppressed became the oppressor and spared no thought for innocent folks whose gall they themselves had tasted. It is also displayed in the nobility of those who were willing to make personal sacrifices for the betterment of their kinsmen, to take up arms for a just cause, and to push for change. The challenge for the characters in the two cities was in knowing when to stop the fervor to do what they perceived to be right and just while traversing the slippery slope where good tended toward evil.
A Tale of Two Cities reminds me again why Dickens is not a good but a great novelist.
