Oliver Twist, by Charles Dickens

Oliver's mother "was weak and erring." Those are the last four words of the novel, and serve as a reminder, I think, of the morals of this parable. I must view it as a parable, a story formed to instruct, otherwise the coincidences would be too amazing to make the story palatable. Nancy is the only person in the book who is conflicted over good and evil. Everyone else is either good, evil, or evil pretending to be good for show. The most vile of those in the last two categories each get their comeuppance by the end of the novel.

Dickens warns us in turn against the vices that not only afflict the world of thieves and vagabonds, but also against the vices that afflict those who are lay people and those who are in positions of authority. The magistrate, the workhouse board members, the butler, and the chimney sweep (along with others) are painted as darkly as their worst character traits will allow.

On the other hand, Oliver, those who befriend him, and one of his pauper friends (among others) are painted as having no shortfalls at all, but instead being the very pinnacle of what every person should desire to become.

Nancy, to me, is the one overlap - she who lives in sin and darkness but seeks to help Oliver even though it might cost her dearly. When offered a chance at light and salvation from her earthly stains, she is too much in love with a fellow thief and abuser to take the opportunity. Again asked if she can be assisted in any way, Nancy says "you would serve me best, lady" replied the girl, wringing her hands, "if you could take my life at once; for I have felt more grief to think of what I am, to-night, than I ever did before, and it would be something not to die in the hell in which I have lived." (Spoiler alert: this sentence only) when Nancy does actually die, alas, it is in the place where she lived, with this unprejudiced lady's handkerchief held toward heaven, and a prayer on her lips.

Nancy, perhaps, "was weak and erring" also. We are drawn to love her for the goodness we see in her heart: her willingness to help Oliver and her unwillingness to betray her companions. I think I am so drawn to her because as a human, I am weak and erring also. I see in Nancy the ability and courage she has to face and overcome those things - for she did have the courage, on all counts but the one of a misshapen love.

Dickens discourses at length on greed, grief, entanglement, and improper use of authority. And without so much as a sentence of discourse, he teaches us great lessons in prejudice, hate, murder, willpower, and patience. His musings on nature were some of my favorites: Oliver is enjoying the countryside after an illness, and Dickens discusses how even old men who know every brick of their daily walk in the city will pine to be outdoors when their end is near. He states "the memories which peaceful country scenes call up, are not of this world, nor of its thoughts and hopes. Their gentle influence may... purify our thoughts, and bear down before it old enmity and hatred; but beneath all this, there lingers, in the least reflective mind, a vague and half-formed consciousness of having held such feelings long before, in some remote and distant time, which calls up solemn thoughts of distant times to come, and bends down pride and worldliness beneath it." How distinctively elegant! And what a good description of the effects of the Holy Ghost upon our hearts and minds when we seek it out.

Another favorite quote on nature occurs after one of Oliver's dearest friends begins to recover from a serious illness: "The melancholy which had seemed to the sad eyes of the anxious boy to hang, for days past, over every object, beautiful as all were, was dispelled by magic. The dew seemed to sparkle more brightly on the green leaves; the air to rustle among them with a sweeter music; and the sky itself to look more blue and bright. Such is the influence which the condition of our own thoughts, exercises, even over the appearance of external objects. Men who look on nature, and their fellow-men, and cry that all is dark and gloomy, are in the right; but the sombre colours are reflections from their own jaundiced eyes and hearts. The real hues are delicate, and need a clearer vision."

And what is the state, really, of the clearest vision? Is it happiness? Or would some contend that happiness itself can color the objects in our view? Dickens has astutely pointed out that the clearest vision is not misery or despair. The state of Adam and Eve in the garden comes to mind, but they knew no beauty, for they knew no ugliness! If it is experience, then, that gives us clear vision, perhaps the truest vision is that which can look upon a rose through eyes of despair, and be truly cognizant of and grateful for the potential of that flower to delight another.

And when we are weak and erring, let us turn to those around us whose judgement and wisdom we trust, and thus avoid the pitfalls we may be saved from.

Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen

Well, don't have undo pride, and don't be prejudiced by your first impressions.

This is my first time reading the novel, and I'm sure I will read it again. I have no doubt it will be enjoyable on different levels with each reading, and I feel that Mr. Darcy's person needs to be allowed to simmer and distill until I can feel as fondly toward him as so many others seem to. At first reading, I feel Elizabeth and Darcy still have a lot of work ahead to make him acceptably civil. I do not yet feel the incredible endearment so many women feel toward him.

I read the book within 24 hours - from 2:00 yesterday afternoon to 2:00 this afternoon - similar to the 25 hours I read Sense and Sensibility in on Monday and Tuesday this week, and Peter pan during the day on Thursday. I knew the story of Sense and Sensibility previously, but I did not know the story of Pride and Prejudice. I have often heard the name "Mr. Darcy" and recognized it immediately, but beyond that I was entirely unfamiliar with it.

I did find Mr. Collins to be a particularly disturbing fellow. If I personally met Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy both the same day and was forced to choose between them that night, I should undoubtedly choose Mr. Darcy's public weaknesses (haughtiness) over Mr. Collins' (abusive humility and complete lack of self awareness).

It is a beautiful and engaging story, filled with interesting twists and reversals. The emotion in it is moving; I was especially touched by the emotions surrounding Lydia's errors of judgment at Brighton. The contrast of Jane, Eliza, and Mr. Bennet's feelings with those of Lydia and Mrs. Bennet are especially poignant. Kitty and Lydia, it seems, are true to their selfish, silly selves in circumstances of any importance.

(Spoiler Alert - this paragraph only.) The main emotional story for most people is how Elizabeth overcomes her prejudice against Mr. Darcy and is able to be humble enough to fall in love. I personally didn't feel the conviction within myself (which probably means that I am even more prejudiced than Eliza). Austen's genius in using Lady DeBourgh to speed up the union is wonderfully engaging though.

I have since been able to watch the 1980 mini-series of Pride and Prejudice and enjoyed Elizabeth, Charlotte, and Mrs. Bennet's characters especially (and this review). The scene at Pemberly where Elizabeth is to tell Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner of Lydia's indiscretion moved me to tears. I look forward to watching other Pride and Prejudice movies soon to see the different interpretations.

Peter Pan, by J.M. Barrie

As I read this novel today many things struck me as interesting, primarily the forward written by Susan Cooper, whose mother attended a matinee of the original production of the play in 1904. Ms. Cooper then details Barrie's life, the loss of parents he knew, the loss of children whom he referred to as "my boys," and the origin of Peter's eternal youth. It was a beautifully written and revealing story, and provided many points to ponder as I read through Peter Pan.

As a child, my least favorite part of the Disney film was the scene where Tink lights up Pan's face as if he's wearing a mask. I felt he looked so sinister, so unlike himself.

Little did I know that this is much closer to Barrie's portrayal of Peter, who leaves bodies in the wake of most of his adventures and is "frightfully happy" when on the hunt. As I read the book I considered the story to be that of a child's imagination, where in fact they do kill the 15 pirates, because of course the good side wins! Not everyone is quite as unaffected by it though: I thoroughly enjoyed this gentleman's unsettled review.

I also enjoyed the week-long postings of Jonathan Auxier, including Day 5's guest post by a Barrie connoisseur.

The book is full of contradictions and Tinker Bell is one of them. She has a favorite swear word, is as unrefined as she is refined, and is forgotten by the time the book ends - Pan can't remember her.

The major points I found Barrie conveying throughout the novel were threefold:
1. Children are innocent, and thus heartless. Barrie details many times that children know just how much their parents love them, and so the child will do things in their own interest that wound the parents. (Such as going to the Neverland for weeks and leaving their parents to mourn.) The child, not knowing the depth of the wounds they inflict, comes back and claims love in the open arms of their parents, expecting that it would be exactly so. And as parents, we do not teach them otherwise, for it could not be otherwise. Thankfully, our own existence as children of God also follows this pattern.

Viewing the actions of my own child with this perspective helps me to be more patient and understanding. My child has incredible love for me, but not enough experience to know what it means to be wounded. And I would have him wait as long as possible to learn it.

The closing phrase of the novel is "so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless." Barrie was definitely driving this point home, and I think the deaths of the children in his life made him feel keenly the depth of both a parent's love and despair, though he was not a biological parent himself.

2. Adults are silly. One of the lost boys has a single memory of his mother: She would frequently ask his father for her own cheque-book. And John teaches Peter Pan how to be a father, after which point Peter complains that his "old bones would rattle" if he were to dance with the children. Wendy, for her part, later tells him that because of their large family, "I have now passed my best, but you don't want to change me, do you?" Did Wendy once hear her mother say that to her father? Goodness, the things emulative play reveals about us...

3. If we knew what was about to happen to us we would act differently. I suppose the omniscient narrator mainly taunts us by revealing things to come and suggesting that if someone had just changed one action, the entire situation would have been avoided or turned out differently. While it keeps us engaged in the story and makes us think up tangential story lines, it also provides the reader an opportunity for reflection.

In my own life, have there been times when simply leaving the room would have changed the course of history? Or perhaps if I had known who stood around the corner, I might have continued rather than taking a different path? But we are not omniscient narrators in our own lives, and cannot know, and thus must make the best and kindest choices we can based on our own intuition and the promptings of God's spirit. And yes, Mr. Barrie, we should refrain from snapping at all costs, because it may be the last phrase that passes from our lips. But we are only human.

More obvious themes that I found new reasons to love:
1. Mothers
Hook mourns the loss of his chances at ever getting Peter because the boys had found a mother. Smee has to ask what a mother is.

"As the pirates looked they saw a strange sight. It was the nest I have told you of, floating on the lagoon, and the Never bird was sitting on it.

"See," said Hook in answer to Smee's question, "that is a mother. What a lesson. The nest must have fallen into the water, but would the mother desert her eggs? No."

2. Story-telling
"Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories."

3. Make-believe
Peter carried make believe to the point that he could decide whether any meal was to be make believe. Peter believed so strongly in make-believe food that "during a meal of it you could see him getting rounder. Of course it was trying, but you simply had to follow his lead." But if it one of the lost boys could prove to Peter that they were getting thinner, he would let them eat real food. Even children understand the far limits of pretending.

4. Adventures
Adventures were a daily occurrence, often signified by someone later finding a body. Murder (or "ripping," in the case of Hook) is routinely engaged in, and found to be an every day, run-of-the-mill part of adventures. The biggest adventure is Pan's encounter with death, which he faces with the thought "To die will be an awfully big adventure."

5. Growing up
At the end of the book, Wendy's daughter asks her why she can no longer fly. Wendy answers that it is because when people grow up they forgot the way.

"Why do they forget the way?"

"Because they are no longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless who can fly."