A wonderful cast of characters, probably my second favourite Dickens.

Little Dorrit is my new favourite book ever, with The Lord of the Rings and Wuthering Heights.
I really don't have enough words to praise it. It has got all you could look for in a novel: mystery, murder, a love story, social critic...everything!
The plot is very compelling and though it's about 1000 pages you never get bored by it.
I'm not sorry to say goodbye to it only because I'm going to have two years of Dickens forward, but I want absolutely to buy it and re-read it!
It took me some chapters to get into it, but then I couldn't put it down!
It's the story of Amy Dorrit, a girl born in a prison where her father was kept for debts (like Dickens' father) and who meets the other main character of the book, Arthur Clennam, at his mother's home. Arthur, returned from a long absence from London, decides to help Little Dorrit's family.
The story is sometimes funny (some characters are remarkable!) and sometimes moving, in the style of Dickens.

First, I have to admit. It is my favorite novel of all time. Second, I would say that Amy and her story breaks my heart to pieces. Third, the prison presented as a home makes me sob and ache so much. There is never such a powerful illustration of the social injustice of the 19th century British society. William Dorrit the tragedy that shakespear talked about. It is the misery of the past haunting the luxury of the present which gives you the joyful-misery at the end. Mrs. clennam, if I had the opportunity of meeting you before, I would tell you that it is never too late. Flora Finching, if I ever wanted to ask you to shut up, i would never be able for you won't give me the opportunity to speak. John Chivery, if you just know how do I feel towards you. I really am a big fan of you John, and I would go to say my prayers on your tombstone. Arthur Clennam, if I know such a person like you, my life would change so much. The Marshalsea prison is a place of so much suffering. It is the author's past put here in examination. Dickens wanted to tell us in this story that love is the secret of being happy. Money is a corrupting-evil that gives you pain and loneliness sometimes. After all, it is not just the debtor's prison that is haunting the story, many and many kinds of prisons there are. For example, the mental prison of each character. In this novel, love, money, happiness, marriage, suffering, revenge, and prison are all studied in the deepest way.

Es un libro que si te gusta el autor debes leer, con una historia interesante y además al parecer inspirada en lugares reales , con personajes secundarios fabulosos como Flora y su tía la señorita F y una historia difícil de olvidar. Una gran narración del autor donde con su acostumbrada sutileza critica la sociedad del momento a todo nivel y para mi lo más interesante es mostrar que la familia puede tener defectos tan Grandes que se vuelve una carga muchas veces y que solo alguien con amor y paciencia lo logra soportar

Not my favorite Dickens. It didn't seem developed enough. The ending seemed rushed and convenient and kind of weird. The characters weren't memorable enough and I really didn't feel any attachment to Amy. Great audio reading, but that was about it.

I must say I'm quite proud of myself for finishing Little Dorrit - quite an undertaking for someone not fond of Dickens. I liked this, but there was a 200 page lull for me at the beginning of book two. Also, for such a big cast, I only had a handful of favourite characters. Hence only three stars, but this is a hearty three stars that truly mean "I liked it!"

UPDATE: 11/2020

I have upgraded my rating to 5-stars and feeling quite different toward both Amy Dorrit and the other characters of Little Dorrit this time around. I read the book very slowly (one chapter a day) with full discussions in the Dickensians group, and my appreciation of it rose daily. I'm afraid one read is just not enough for this complex and profound novel. My hat is always off to Mr. Dickens, one of the greatest writers of all time.

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Dickens built his novel, Little Dorrit, around the life of inmates of the Marshalsea Prison, and drew from some very personal experiences to do so. I did not find these characters as compelling nor his plot as tight as usual, but still a worthy read and much enjoyed. Amy Dorrit (whose moniker of “Little Dorrit” aggravated me), is a bit too perfect, sweet and unselfish for my tastes; Arthur Clennam a bit too clueless about his own feelings and what was going on with others; and our major villain Rigaud a little too much like Snidely Whiplash, right down to the twisting of the moustache.

The loves and hates in this novel were also somewhat contrived. Of course, those emotions can be pretty arbitrary in real life. We’ve probably all known people who hate beyond the bounds of the offense they have endured and one person or another who has professed to love someone who was obviously a cad and below their worthiness. Mainly, however, I did not feel that the explanation for the mysteries at the heart of the novel really made good sense. So, not on a level with n  Great Expectationsn or n  Bleak Housen, but still...a bad Dickens is better than almost anyone else, it is the high expectations that cause the problem.

If you ever suffer from the idea that the problems of Charles Dickens’ world won’t have correlatives in our world, you ought to read n  Little Dorritn. Sprinkled amid the convoluted story of Amy Dorrit and Arthur Clennam is a diatribe on bureaucracy that felt far too familiar. Perhaps it is uniquely American (of course NOT) that people in government seem more interested in “not doing” than in “doing”, but I could so totally relate to the red tape approach to running off the petitioner, and I’m betting everyone else who has ever tried to deal with government can as well.

Hold up your hand if Mr. Rugg’s comments here ring true:

”If the money I have sacrificed had been all my own, Mr. Rugg,” sighed Mr. Clennam, “I should have cared far less.
“Indeed sir? said Mr. Rugg, rubbing his hands with a cheerful air. “You surprise me. That’s singular, sir. I have generally found, in my experience, that it’s their own money people are most particular about. I have seen people get rid of a good deal of other people’s money, and bear it very well; very well indeed.”

Oops, too many to count.

And, when I came across this passage, I could not help thinking of Bernie Madoff:

Numbers of men in every profession and trade would be blighted by his insolvency; old people who had been in easy circumstances all their lives would have no place of repentance for their trust in him but the workhouse; legions of women and children would have their whole future desolated by the hand of this mighty scoundrel. Every partaker of his magnificent feasts would be seen to have been a sharer in the plunder of innumerable homes, every servile worshipper of riches who had helped to set him on his pedestal, would have done better to worship the Devil point blank.

But what really struck me was that he was admired by one of the characters for pulling the deception off so universally, and I gasped because I had an acquaintance who actually made that statement about Madoff…"You have to admire him for his cleverness”, he said. NO, NO and NO. Would you not think people would have learned between 1855 and 2008? Apparently human nature thrives on the same errors repeated over centuries.

There is much that could be said about this novel and, like every Dickens I have read, it would make for a marvelous group read. If you want to know more and delve deeper, I strongly suggest that you take the time to read the review written by Bionic Jean, our resident Dickens guru, who never gets it wrong and always enlightens my reading.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

I was afraid I was going to fail in my quest to read all of Dickens by culling two a year off my list. Thankfully, I have finished Little Dorrit just in time to satisfy this year. I read Hard Times as well. I have Martin Chuzzlewit, about which I know nothing, and The Old Curiosity Shop, a story I am very familiar with but have not ever read, slated for 2019. It would be lovely if I could up the ante and squeeze in a third! I must say I have enjoyed every single novel so far.

I think I need a break from Dickens. Reading _Little Dorrit_ after _Dombey and Son_, and within months of finishing _Bleak House_ has made me frustrated with his ideal female character. He uses the phrase "active submission" to describe Amy Dorrit, but it could be equally applied to Esther or Florence, characters whose main virtue is waiting without complaint for their objects of devotion to treat them properly, and for their lives to be less miserable. _Little Dorrit_ and _Dombey and Son_ both have wonderfully menacing villains, but without a dynamic hero or heroine to counter them, the plot relies on dramatic external events to wipe them out. All this may simply be a reflection of a Christian ethos, one of suffering patiently, even lovingly, no matter the abuse, and relying on God (in this case, the author) to resolve every problem. It is not my own ethos, however, and I am beginning to find it tiresome.

Of note in this story are the events involving banking, investing, and speculating. One character even turns out to be a Victorian Bernie Madoff of sorts (and "Madoff" could be a name straight out of Dickens, come to think of it). Dickens' cautionary tale is as relevant today as ever.

Little Dorrit [1857] – ★★★★

In this classic story, Arthur Clennam returns home from China after many years of absence and finds the same dull and uninviting London house with the same resentful mother inside. While he meditates on what to do next with his life, his attention is drawn to a very timid seamstress of his mother– Amy Dorrit (nicknamed “Little Dorrit”). This young woman is hard-working, kind and is blindly devoted to her imprisoned family members. This makes Arthur wonder about her life, and his first step to make poor Amy his friend leads him to the discovery of another world – the world of London’s poor. Arthur is amazed to find that the absurd workings of the notorious Marshalsea prison for debtors, where Amy was born and her father is now imprisoned, should have a symbiotic relationship with the bureaucratic realm of the complacent and Kafkaesque Circumlocution Office, a governmental institution designed to keep the needy poor and the desperate for answers – even more confused.

Set in England, Italy and France, Dickens’s episodic novel may not have the clarity and subtlety of the narrative expositions of Bleak House [1852] or Dombey and Son [1857], but it still contains all the entertaining Dickensian components. There is: a plot with long-buried family secrets and unforeseen reversals of fortune; perceptive and humoristic satire on the government (Dickens was once a Parliament Reporter) and the unfairness of the British class system; and a line of unforgettable characters, whose destinies inexplicably criss-cross and among whom are a couple of sinister personages lurking in the background and pulling the strings. Still, the “heart” of this novel is one shy young woman whose quiet resilience in the face of immense oppression moves all, as she champions the power of introversion and self-sacrificing love.

If Dickens’s Bleak House satirised and ridiculed the British legal system, then Little Dorrit attacks the British penal system, as well as the country’s governmental offices. Dickens lets us step into the puzzling, chaotic world of the Marshalsea prison (a society within a society), where people are imprisoned because they cannot pay their debts. The author drew from the experience of his own father – John Dickens, who was imprisoned twice in the Marshalsea Debtors’ Prison because he could not pay his creditors. The situation is quite absurd: prisoners need money to pay their creditors for their release and, yet, they cannot earn this money because they are being imprisoned. Dickens’s striking portrayal of the prison is matched only by the vividness with which he observes to us its eccentric inhabitants, such as the two brothers Frederick and William Dorrit, with the latter being the “Father” of the Marshalsea, and hence his youngest daughter, Amy (“Little Dorrit”), who was born within the prison walls – the “Child” of the Marshalsea. Everyone depends on self-sacrificing Little Dorrit who tries to cater for every person she meets on her way, and especially for her beloved Father, whose imprisoned life she tries to make a little more bearable and dignified, but also for her frivolous sister Fanny and her wayward brother Tip.

As with other classic works by Dickens, there is an underlying mystery to the episodic narrative, which, in turn, is full of atmospheric descriptions. The curious thing is that one person who is closest to uncovering the mystery and discovering the truth in this story – Mrs. Flintwinch, servant to Mrs. Clennam, – is living through a kind of nightmare, constantly mixing up reality and dreams, and seeing facts as though through a mist, being unable to make sense of strange happenings around Mrs. Clennam’s house. And some curious characters also visit Arthur’s childhood home – one too many, as it turns out. There are probably one too many characters in this story, too, and we are also introduced to Flora, ex- sweetheart of Arthur Clennam, to her father Mr. Casby, to Mr. Casby’s rent collection man Mr Pancks, as well as to the Barnacle, Merdle and Meagles families, to name just a few.

Contrast is the driving force of any exciting and memorable narrative and no one knew it better than Dickens. In Little Dorrit, the author contrasts three women, all roughly of the same age and all having their own “nicknames” – (i) Amy Dorrit (“Little Dorrit), the daughter of the imprisoned man William Dorrit, (ii) Minnie Meagles (“Pet”), the beautiful and spoiled daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Meagles, and (iii) Harriet Beadle (“Tattycoram”), the maid to the Meagles family. If Little Dorrit has no money, but love in her family (and submits), then Pet has both riches and love in her family (and both submits and rebels at the same time in her own way), and Tattycoram, generally speaking, has no love and no riches (and actively rebels). Similarly, If Little Dorrit is of a “poor birth” and now lives in an impoverished home, then Pet is of a “higher birth” and now enjoys a prosperous home environment, and Tattycoram, by contrast, is of “a poor birth”, but now lives in a well-to-do home. Dickens makes the same striking comparisons while presenting his two father-daughter relationships (Mr. Meagles and Pet, and Mr. Dorrit and Little Dorrit). If Pet is pampered and cared for by her father, it is Amy who generally cares for and always tries to “pet” her father. Both relationships are presented as equally “healthy” and loving.

As a character, Amy Dorrit is reminiscent of Esther from Dickens’s Bleak House. She is innocent, quiet and trustworthy. Dickens makes a point that heroism, courage and true strength do not necessarily imply one single bold action, and these are also found in one’s daily devotion, in unshakeable faith, in unquestionable loyalty, in compassion and in the will not to give up, despite one’s hopelessly horrific circumstances. With Dickens’s creation of Amy Dorrit, he spotlighted not boldness and opportunism, but, rather, quiet resilience, self-sacrifice and the sheer goodness of the heart. Some may say that Amy is too meek and uninteresting a character, but this is deceptive, and, in fact, many characters in the novel fall into the trap of underestimating Amy and her quiet power over others. It is power because many characters in the novel are either dependent on Amy (without realising it) either emotionally or financially (or both) (Amy’s immediate family), or develop such an enormous respect for her that it becomes impossible for them to ignore her (Arthur). Here is an example of this deception of others as to Amy’s true character in the novel: “Fanny”….[said Mrs General], “has force of character and self-reliance. Amy, none”. “None? O Mrs General, ask the Marshalsea stones and bars. O Mrs General, ask the milliner who taught her to work, and the dancing-master who taught her sister to dance. Or Mrs General, Mrs General, ask me, her father, what I owe to her; and hear my testimony touching the life of this slighted little creature, from her childhood up!” [Charles Dickens, Penguin Classics, 1857/2013: 495]. Amy’s desire to make the lives of others a little happier, as well as her determination to persevere, is admirable. After all, it is not one’s words, or their absence, which show one’s true character, but one’s commitment and daily action. In the second half of the book, Amy does not let others mould her into what she is not and resists change to the best of her circumstances.

If I were to judge the book by its first half – Book One – Poverty, it would have been a five star-read, but Book Two impressed me far less. I found some melodramatic resolutions, including events and coincidences leading up to them, “forced” in the book’s second half. Moreover, at times Dickens’s prose is needlessly self-indulgent and “sensationalist”, and there are some book scenes that could/should have been safely edited out.

Despite my reservations, however, Little Dorrit is still a recommended read, being deeply observational, humoristic and moving. In Little Dorrit, Dickens is probably at his most compassionate and empathetic, shedding light on the lives of the most disadvantaged of his time, while also demonstrating the ever-present burdens of imprisonment that affects not only the imprisoned but also all those connected to them. In Amy Dorrit, Dickens also created something magnetic, albeit deceptively simple: Amy’s quiet, kind and determined spirit, as she forges her touching friendships through the story, illuminates not only many dark paths of the characters, but also, seemingly, the very pages of this book, also making it rather special.

Little Dorrit is a wonderful comic novel. Within these gentle pages are:
-a severely brain damaged woman who was beaten and neglected by her alcoholic mother
-a bitter old lady who just sits in a room for 15 years
-evil twin brothers
-an abusive husband who beats and torments his wife
-spoiled twin sisters, one who kicks it early and is replaced by a resentful orphan
-an innocent man rotting away in prison for years
-children who are born and raised in prison
-a suicide
-a murder
-in articulo mortis misery
-paralysis and stroke
-blackmail
-a dog beaten to death
-a catastrophic collapse of a building
-the Tite Barnacle Branch of the Circumlocution Office, a government agency that suggests Kafka and The Trial “It being one of the principles of the Circumlocution Office never, on any account whatever, to give a straightforward answer . . . it was (as everybody knows without being told) the most important Department under Government. No public business of any kind could possibly be done at any time without the acquiescence of the Circumlocution Office. Its finger was in the largest public pie, and in the smallest public tart.”
-a variety of themes, including imprisonment, incarceration, quarantine and detention. Also twins, doubles, and aliases.
Little Dorrit is a pleasure to read in spite of all the gloom & misery - *that* is Dickens’s power. The ending though, is rather hasty and muddled. If I weren’t so lazy I’d draw a chart which would clarify this mess, but suffice it to say that there is no incest.

"No, John, I cannot have you, and I cannot have any husband, it is not my intentions ever to become a wife, it is my intentions always to become a sacrifice, farewell, find another worthy of you, and forget me!"



I don't like to do extensive research before I read books, especially classics. I don't like to start with preconceptions. However, on the back of this copy I have of Little Dorrit, I read something of Dickens that made an impact on the novel. It reads: "Stephen Wall's introduction examines Dickens's transformation of childhood memories of his father's incarceration in the Marshalsea." I only read that line, not the intro.

Little Dorrit stays with her father, William Dorrit, who has been incarcerated for debt. Little Dorrit grows up in the prison, and from the environment, becomes a humble girl with a servant's mindset. She lives for the needs of other people. One example: a woman named Maggy, who has had severe brain damage since childhood. Although Little Dorrit has no mother, and has a genuine need, she becomes this woman's mother, takes care of her like a child. Maggy calls Little Dorrit "mother."

William Dorrit comes upon a financial breakthrough. He gets rich, and gets out of the Marshalsea, goes on into society to live an upper class life. Little Dorrit can't get used to it. She remains the humble girl she had always been in the prison. William tries to fit in, but can't avoid the awkwardness of his years in the prison.

One day, tragedy comes. Dickens makes the plot twist sudden, and it moved my heart to deep grief. I'm about to spoil it, so if you want to move on or read beyond the next paragraph, you're welcome to do that.

"And from that hour his poor maimed spirit, only remembering the place where it had broken its wings, cancelled the dream through which it had since groped, and knew of nothing beyond the Marshalsea."



As I read the book, a creative thought came to my mind. I personified grief, and grew angry at the villain. Grief. The anger grew until it overwhelmed me and I saw more than just a creative image. As I followed the anger, I felt deep pain. Yesterday my aunt spoke with me about my father, mother and grandfather passing away and how she missed them. Within seconds I took that same journey Dickens had walked me through: anger, then pain. I only want to point out the literary power of Dickens. A writer who can bring you out of grief-denial has something special.

I want to mention one more thing about characterization. Dickens can teach how to make characters real. One aspect of his technique I noticed: he gives his characters small quarks that, if you follow, show you something deep about them. For example, the villain Rigaud, throughout the story emerges with his face contorting so that his nose goes over his mustache and his mustache moves up. We see this several times throughout the novel. The genius of this can be experienced. Do it now. Bring your nose over your mouth and move the space above your lips up, and pretend you have a mustache. How do you feel making that face? Now you understand the villain. How brilliant of Dickens!

Dickens makes my life better. He has a power that strengthens the mind and spirit. If you want to try him, it may take work, but if you can manage to get to a place to understand and enjoy it, you will see the investment worth your time and effort.

"Be guided only by the healer of the sick, the raiser of the dead, the friend of all who were afflicted and forlorn, the patient Master who shed tears of compassion for our infirmities."

Vorrei proprio sapere perché tutti i lettori conoscono David Copperfield e le Grandi Speranze, mentre la Piccola Dorrit è così poco letto e così tanto sottovalutato; per questo scriverò due parole in proposito. Forse è stato il titolo a svantaggiarlo: l’idea che la protagonista sia una ragazza, anziché un ragazzo, può aver allontanato molti lettori maschi. Il che è una sciocchezza non solo in linea di principio, ma anche perché nei grandi romanzi di Dickens i protagonisti sono davvero tanti, uomini e donne, giovani e vecchi, poveri e ricchi. L’affresco della Piccola Dorrit è ampio e affascinante, si estende da Londra all’Italia, più di mille pagine di rara brillantezza e vivacità, che non hanno proprio niente da invidiare alle altre sue opere più note; al contrario.
Un romanzo di avventura ma anche una beffarda, acuta e ironica satira sociale, di straordinaria attualità (è stupenda la trovata del Ministero delle Circonlocuzioni; è stupenda la cena in cui i pezzi grossi si riuniscono per assegnare un posto prestigioso a quel giovane idiota bennato di Sparkler; è stupendo l’episodio del finanziere miliardario che arricchendosi vertiginosamente seduce il popolo trascinandolo con sé nella propria bancarotta fraudolenta); una vicenda tenebrosa piena di suspence, ma anche una storia d’amore di grande tenerezza; pagine e pagine di saggezza eppure anche di gioia di vivere. Mi ha fatto riscoprire Dickens, la sua grande intelligenza, il suo personalissimo umorismo, i suoi personaggi che balzano fuori dalle pagine pieni di vita e di carattere, i suoi dialoghi sempre così realistici, divertenti o commuoventi… Non solo un grandissimo narratore, ma un grande autore, un grande talento, un geniaccio come pochi.
Leggetelo.