Throughout this forty-sixth episode of Great Expectations, author Charles Dickens employs numerous devices and lays down a myriad of literary hints that, when light is shed on them, bring a greater meaning to the story and illuminate many aspects of the characters and the surroundings of the characters (both in plot and setting).
First, I observed that there is a pattern of sentence length in the beginning of the chapter. The first sentences are shorter, and they grow until they reach a length suitable for an entire paragraph, and then drop again. This cycle is then terminated by dialogue, as shown below. Different neighboring sentences are colored differently, and the coloring cycle repeats when the length cycle repeats:
Eight o'clock had struck before I got into the air that was scented, not disagreeably, by the chips and shavings of the long-shore boatbuilders, and mast oar and block makers. All that water-side region of the upper and lower Pool below Bridge, was unknown ground to me, and when I struck down by the river, I found that the spot I wanted was not where I had supposed it to be, and was anything but easy to find. It was called Mill Pond Bank, Chinks's Basin; and I had no other guide to Chinks's Basin than the Old Green Copper Rope-Walk.
It matters not what stranded ships repairing in dry docks I lost myself among, what old hulls of ships in course of being knocked to pieces, what ooze and slime and other dregs of tide, what yards of ship-builders and ship-breakers, what rusty anchors blindly biting into the ground though for years off duty, what mountainous country of accumulated casks and timber, how many rope-walks that were not the Old Green Copper. After several times falling short of my destination and as often over-shooting it, I came unexpectedly round a corner, upon Mill Pond Bank. It was a fresh kind of place, all circumstances considered, where the wind from the river had room to turn itself round; and there were two or three trees in it, and there was the stump of a ruined windmill, and there was the Old Green Copper Rope-Walk - whose long and narrow vista I could trace in the moonlight, along a series of wooden frames set in the ground, that looked like superannuated haymaking-rakes which had grown old and lost most of their teeth.
Selecting from the few queer houses upon Mill Pond Bank, a house with a wooden front and three stories of bow-window (not bay-window, which is another thing), I looked at the plate upon the door, and read there, Mrs. Whimple. That being the name I wanted, I knocked, and an elderly woman of a pleasant and thriving appearance responded. She was immediately deposed, however, by Herbert, who silently led me into the parlour and shut the door. It was an odd sensation to see his very familiar face established quite at home in that very unfamiliar room and region; and I found myself looking at him, much as I looked at the corner-cupboard with the glass and china, the shells upon the chimney-piece, and the coloured engravings on the wall, representing the death of Captain Cook, a ship-launch, and his Majesty King George the Third in a state-coachman's wig, leather-breeches, and top-boots, on the terrace at Windsor.
"All is well, Handel," said Herbert, "and he is quite satisfied, though eager to see you. ..." (375-376)
"All is well, Handel," said Herbert, "and he is quite satisfied, though eager to see you. ..." (375-376)
Dickens emphasizes difficulty in the longer sentences, as if reflecting the fact that Pip spends more time paying attention to the negative aspects of his circumstances than the positive ones (complaining, pining for Estella, etc.). I also noted a lot of adjectives in these first paragraphs that build a picture of the setting very clearly and provide a source of contrast to the inside of Clara's home:
Evidence of "old" or "worn" setting...
Evidence of Pip not expecting something...
Litotes (use of a negative to reverse emphasis)...
Litotes (use of a negative to reverse emphasis)...
Eight o'clock had struck before I got into the air that was scented, not disagreeably, by the chips and shavings of the long-shore boatbuilders, and mast oar and block makers. All that water-side region of the upper and lower Pool below Bridge, was unknown ground to me, and when I struck down by the river, I found that the spot I wanted was not where I had supposed it to be, and was anything but easy to find. It was called Mill Pond Bank, Chinks's Basin; and I had no other guide to Chinks's Basin than the Old Green Copper* Rope-Walk.
It matters not what stranded ships repairing in dry docks I lost myself among, what old hulls of ships in course of being knocked to pieces, what ooze and slime and other dregs of tide, what yards of ship-builders and ship-breakers, what rusty anchors blindly biting into the ground though for years off duty, what mountainous country of accumulated casks and timber, how many rope-walks that were not the Old Green Copper. After several times falling short of my destination and as often over-shooting it, I came unexpectedly round a corner, upon Mill Pond Bank. It was a fresh kind of place, all circumstances considered, where the wind from the river had room to turn itself round; and there were two or three trees in it, and there was the stump of a ruined windmill, and there was the Old Green Copper Rope-Walk - whose long and narrow vista I could trace in the moonlight, along a series of wooden frames set in the ground, that looked like superannuated haymaking-rakes which had grown old and lost most of their teeth. (375)
* Copper that gets weathered and exposed to acid forms a green patina (corroded layer) [think about the Statue of Liberty], so this description adds to the "age" factor in the description.
* Copper that gets weathered and exposed to acid forms a green patina (corroded layer) [think about the Statue of Liberty], so this description adds to the "age" factor in the description.
There are a lot of parallels here. Pip meets old people in a new place (the convict at his new home AND Joe at Barnard's Inn!), and finds himself thinking people out of place because they are in a different setting than usual:
"It was an odd sensation to see his very familiar face established quite at home in that very unfamiliar room and region; and I found myself looking at him, much as I looked at the corner-cupboard with the glass and china..." (376).
Dickens also uses the very first paragraph as an excellent place to characterize Pip further, using careful word choice to emphasize his expectation that everything should be the way he wants it to be:
Eight o'clock had struck before I got into the air that was scented, not disagreeably, by the chips and shavings of the long-shore boatbuilders, and mast oar and block makers. All that water-side region of the upper and lower Pool below Bridge, was unknown ground to me, and when I struck down by the river, I found that the spot I wanted was not where I had supposed it to be, and was anything but easy to find. It was called Mill Pond Bank, Chinks's Basin; and I had no other guide to Chinks's Basin than the Old Green Copper Rope-Walk. (375)
The description of the various articles, trinkets, and artifacts dispersed throughout Pip's first panning view of the Barley household gives a very exotic vibe to the scene, but this is starkly contrasted with the grumbling from the floor above:
[T]he corner-cupboard with the glass and china, the shells upon the chimney-piece, and the coloured engravings on the wall, representing the death of Captain Cook, a ship-launch, and his Majesty King George the Third in a state-coachman's wig, leather-breeches, and top-boots, on the terrace at Windsor.
"My dear girl is with her father; and if you'll wait till she comes down, I'll make you known to her, and then we'll go up-stairs. - That's her father."
I had become aware of an alarming growling overhead, and had probably expressed the fact in my countenance. (376)
The hints of sarcasm included in Herbert’s speech help direct us to the humor (rather than taking us to the sadness of Mr. Barley’s dependence on alcoholic beverages) of the situation and the growling:
"Yes," returned Herbert, "and you may suppose how mild it makes his gout. He persists, too, in keeping all the provisions upstairs in his room, and serving them out. He keeps them on shelves over his head, and will weigh them all. His room must be like a chandler's shop."
…
"What else can be the consequence," said Herbert, in explanation, "if he will cut the cheese?* A man with the gout in his right hand - and everywhere else - can't expect to get through a Double Gloucester without hurting himself." (376)
* To clarify, Herbert is talking about literally cutting cheese.
The use of a hard cheese (Double Gloucester) to explain the gout in Mr. Barley’s body (a subject not generally taken in over a meal…) was an interesting way of helping in showing Herbert’s oddities and his odd manner (sort of the same way he presented himself in the beginning if the book, with a random invitation to fight).
Dickens’ repetition of lines when Mr. Barley mutters to himself reinforces the intoxicating effect of the alcohol and brings a little humor to the situation just as shown before.
As we passed Mr. Barley's door…he was heard hoarsely muttering within...the following Refrain...
"Ahoy! Bless your eyes, here's old Bill Barley. Here's old Bill Barley, bless your eyes. Here's old Bill Barley on the flat of his back, by the Lord. Lying on the flat of his back, like a drifting old dead flounder, here's your old Bill Barley, bless your eyes. Ahoy! Bless you." (378)
We also see an interesting metaphor playing out between Clara and Mr. Barley (her own father, ironically, as you will see), in the following description:
This restatement of characters in the metaphorical setting of the familiar fairy-tale kind of layout gives us a different idea of the role Clara serves in her father's life: rather than being a daughter to be proud of for finding a benevolent and loving husband, he only places worth in her for bringing him his drinks, which he seems to need out of necessity (at this point).
Moving on to another character, we finally get to see more of Clara, where earlier on she was just another person who didn’t really mean much in the book. The new extended description we get of her on pages 377 to 378 shows us a lot about two of the characters: Pip, the observer; and Clara, the observed:
As we were thus conversing in a low tone while Old Barley's sustained growl vibrated in the beam that crossed the ceiling, the room door opened, and a very pretty slight dark-eyed girl of twenty or so, came in with a basket in her hand: whom Herbert tenderly relieved of the basket, and presented blushing, as "Clara." She really was a most charming girl, and might have passed for a captive fairy, whom that truculent Ogre, Old Barley, had pressed into his service. (377)
This restatement of characters in the metaphorical setting of the familiar fairy-tale kind of layout gives us a different idea of the role Clara serves in her father's life: rather than being a daughter to be proud of for finding a benevolent and loving husband, he only places worth in her for bringing him his drinks, which he seems to need out of necessity (at this point).
Moving on to another character, we finally get to see more of Clara, where earlier on she was just another person who didn’t really mean much in the book. The new extended description we get of her on pages 377 to 378 shows us a lot about two of the characters: Pip, the observer; and Clara, the observed:
There was something so natural and winning in Clara's resigned way of looking at these stores in detail, as Herbert pointed them out, - and something so confiding, loving, and innocent, in her modest manner of yielding herself to Herbert's embracing arm - and something so gentle in her, so much needing protection on Mill Pond Bank, by Chinks's Basin, and the Old Green Copper Rope-Walk, with Old Barley growling in the beam - that I would not have undone the engagement between her and Herbert, for all the money in the pocket-book I had never opened. (378)
Epithet for Mr. Bill Barley, since he calls himself a "drifting old dead flounder" anyway...
We get to see a benevolent side of Pip that we didn’t really get to see before, and this is one of the most important elements of the episode here examined. The most important change we notice in Pip in this chapter is his altered perception of Magwitch and what he finally notices about his benefactor: He actually cares about Magwitch’s safety because of the good deeds he did and the fact that he sacrificed his entire life savings and efforts to elevating Pip to a level of luxury and enjoyment that he never could have attained. It is sort of in the same way that a parent might aspire for their child to reach heights that they never could have, and they celebrate when it is able to happen. Magwitch is a father figure to Pip, just as Joe was when he was a young, innocent boy:
In short, I was always full of fears for the rash man who was in hiding. Herbert had sometimes said to me that he found it pleasant to stand at one of our windows after dark, when the tide was running down, and to think that it was flowing, with everything it bore, towards Clara. But I thought with dread that it was flowing towards Magwitch, and that any black mark on its surface might be his pursuers, going swiftly, silently, and surely, to take him. (382)
Synecdoche: used to represent part of a whole (takes the place of the complete character of Magwitch)
That Pip is fearful for Magwitch, and that he makes the efforts (and of his own accord) to make it possible for Magwitch to escape across the river, reveals Pip’s "good" side:
Next day, I set myself to get the boat. It was soon done, and the boat was brought round to the Temple stairs, and lay where I could reach her within a minute or two. Then, I began to go out as for training and practice: sometimes alone, sometimes with Herbert. I was often out in cold, rain, and sleet, but nobody took much note of me after I had been out a few times. ... Herbert was rarely there less frequently than three times in a week, and he never brought me a single word of intelligence that was at all alarming. Still, I knew that there was cause for alarm, and I could not get rid of the notion of being watched. Once received, it is a haunting idea; how many undesigning persons I suspected of watching me, it would be hard to calculate. (381-382)
Pip’s attention to his surroundings, inside Clara’s house, in his own residence, of Magwitch’s residence, and of the river near his place, are all signs of a newfound care for Magwitch and a transformation to a less selfish personality. He is beginning to be concerned for others, and rather than caring about the fact that, by sending Magwitch, he wouldn’t be able to reap the benefit of Magwitch’s riches, he is worried more about his safety and wants to get him to where he doesn’t need to worry about his own benefactor facing the death penalty in his last moments; in other words, he wants Magwitch to be at peace with the knowledge that Pip is supported by Magwitch’s dedication.
"I don't like to leave you here," I said to Provis, "though I cannot doubt your being safer here than near me. Good-bye!"
"Dear boy," he answered, clasping my hands, "I don't know when we may meet again, and I don't like Good-bye. Say Good Night!"
"Good night! Herbert will go regularly between us, and when the time comes you may be certain I shall be ready. Good night, Good night!" (380)
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