Charles Dickens: a champion of the poor
In the second article commemorating the
bicentenary of Dickens’s birth, ANDY FORD looks at the books which
exposed the rotten underbelly of Victorian society.
CHARLES DICKENS (1812-70) was writing at a time when
printing, reading and readers were undergoing profound changes and
growth, allowing his books access to a mass market. The economic
expansion unleashed by Britain’s victory over Napoleon led to
unprecedented changes in technology and industry, culminating in the
railway mania of the 1840s, followed by economic slump. Developments in
printing made books more affordable to a newly literate public, and the
railways transported books and periodicals to a mass market over the
whole country. But capitalist growth also saw the spread of slums in
London and other cities, in poverty and the daily fear for millions of
working people of unemployment and the workhouse. This was the world
surveyed, from their separate vantage points, by Karl Marx and Charles
Dickens.
It was to the workhouses that Dickens turned as he
wrote his first novel, Oliver Twist. The workhouses were created by the
New Poor Law of 1834, to ‘make work pay’, not by raising wages but by
making unemployment unendurable. ‘Paupers’ were herded into these grim
institutions, where families were separated on entry, given uniforms
instead of their own clothes, and fed on a starvation diet of bread and
gruel.
The initial idea for Oliver Twist was to trace the
progress of a workhouse orphan, maybe based on the memoir of Robert
Blincoe (see: The Socialist No.501, 13 September 2007). But it is almost
as if Oliver Twist is the child Dickens could have become, or feared he
could have become, during the year when he lived alone, working in a
boot-blacking factory, while his father and family were interned for
debt in Marshalsea prison. Not for the last time, the figure of an
abandoned child awoke Dickens’s creative powers.
Much of the book’s humour comes from mockery of the
stupidity and pompousness of the parish authorities as they mistreat
Oliver and other workhouse inmates. This would have been especially
irksome to these worthies because, then as now, they demand ‘respect’
and deference from their ‘inferiors’. Dickens also exposed their
hypocritical idea that by mistreating the poor they were doing them a
favour – reducing their dependency on welfare, in modern language.
His next book, Nicholas Nickleby, was conceived as
an attack on the ‘Yorkshire schools’. These were where unwanted children
– illegitimate, disabled or simply inconvenient - were sent to be
‘educated’. The adverts, sharply satirised by Dickens, often included
the ominous phrase ‘no holidays’, and children were sent away to be
forgotten about. The school owners had free rein to beat, neglect and
starve their pupils to maximise profits. Just a few years before, a
sensational case had exposed one such school where boys had lost their
sight as a result of the miserable diet and lack of medical care.
Dickens attacked the schools polemically and through
biting humour. The ignorant school master, Wackford Squeers, for
example, declares that education is practical: "W-I-N-D-E-R, winder, a
casement. When the boy knows this out of a book, he goes and cleans it".
In Martin Chuzzlewit, Dickens began to move from
attacking particular abuses to look more widely at the selfishness and
hypocrisy of bourgeois society. It would seem that, now he moved in the
upper circles of society, what he found there repelled him. In a letter
he described the guests at an official dinner as "sleek, slobbering,
bow-paunched, overfed, apoplectic, snorting cattle…"
The book is memorable for its depiction of a huge
Ponzi scheme created by Montague Tigg in which most of the characters
lose their money. Tigg makes his initial capital by stealing a watch.
From this apt beginning he creates a fake bank, the Anglo-Bengalee
Mutual Disinterested Loan and Life Company, complete with imposing
offices in the City. But it is all a façade. The company has no capital
or property and collapses. Sales of Martin Chuzzlewit, however, were
poor, a disappointing 20,000.
Acutely aware of the need to rebuild his popularity,
Dickens turned to write A Christmas Carol in 1843. This well-known tale
shows that the selfishness of Scrooge not only makes others miserable,
but also himself. Scrooge supports the bourgeois ideas of Malthusianism
in which the poor and their children are merely surplus population. The
three ghosts of Christmas past, present, and yet-to-come, show Scrooge
the cost of his selfishness, typified in the possible death of Tiny Tim
and Scrooge’s own desolate funeral. Scrooge reforms, Tiny Tim does not
die, and Scrooge and his employee, Bob Cratchit, are reconciled in
Christmas cheer.
Although it has been criticised as sentimental, A
Christmas Carol is at heart a deeply political book which attacked the
prevailing bourgeois orthodoxy and sought to protect one of the last
remaining workers’ holidays from rapacious employers. It is a plea for
the retention of human values in what Marx described as a "heartless
world" of commerce and calculation. It was especially popular with
working-class readers and Dickens gave readings to thousands of people
in cheap halls across the land.
His next Christmas book, The Chimes, was an even
more explicit attack on the bourgeois who use their monopoly of ideas to
convince a poor man, Toby Veck, that he has no place in this world. Fat
and well-fed, they take his very meal from him. And they forbid his
daughter to marry in case her children are paupers. The Times was moved
to comment that "the working classes may find in it nourishment for
discontent and hatred of the more fortunate members of society". The
Chartist paper, Northern Star, hailed Dickens as "the champion of the
oppressed".
Dickens maintained his focus on capital and commerce
in his next book, Dombey and Son, which examined the new capitalism of
limited companies and railways, and the outlook of the new masters of
business. The book was published in 1848, an extraordinary year for
British literature and capitalism. Within 20 months, Dombey and Son,
Vanity Fair, Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre and Mary Barton were all
published, while 1848 also saw the huge Chartist demonstration at
Kennington, its suppression by armed force, and serious disturbances in
Yorkshire and Manchester.
At the opening of the book, Mr Dombey sits with his
new son, Paul, exulting in the fact that ‘the firm’ now has an heir. But
Paul’s mother has died, so Dombey must secure a wet nurse for him. With
cold capitalist logic, Dombey tells Mrs Toodle: "I understand you are
poor, and wish to earn money by nursing the little boy, my son… You will
receive a liberal stipend in return for the discharge of certain duties…
When those duties cease to be required and rendered, and the stipend
ceases to be paid, there is an end of all relations between us. Do you
understand me?".
The book brilliantly captures the arrogance of the
capitalists, who invert reality so that the world exists for the
capitalist system and falsely elevate profit above all other
considerations: "The earth was made for Dombey and Son to trade in, and
the sun and moon were made to give them light. Rivers and seas were
formed to float their ships, rainbows gave them promise of fair weather,
winds blew for or against their enterprises, stars and planets circled
in their orbits, to preserve inviolate a system of which they were the
centre".
Bleak House takes as its theme the law and its
disregard of the needs of real people. The book centres round a legal
case, Jarndyce vs Jarndyce, which has been running for decades and
threatens to "soil and corrupt" all those who come into contact with it.
The case contains the secrets at the heart of the book, and many of the
characters spend their time waiting for secrets to be revealed, for the
case to be resolved, or for a new will to be found.
There is a curious polarity between literate and
illiterate protagonists in the book. Tulkinghorn the lawyer is
well-versed in the law and knows everyone’s secrets. But it is Jo, the
illiterate and impoverished crossing sweeper, who reveals the central
mystery. Krook is an illiterate rag-and-bone dealer who has the crucial
will in his possession, yet cannot read it. When he dies, it is the
mean-minded moneylender Smallweed who finds and deciphers the will. The
death of Krook, by spontaneous human combustion, so that all that is
left is a "thick yellow liquor" and a "sprinkle of white ashes",
symbolises the self-destruction of a system which is rotten to the core.
When the will is discovered and read, the case of Jarndyce vs Jarndyce
can be settled. However, the value of the estate has been consumed in
legal costs rendering the whole case futile.
In Hard Times (see: The Socialist No.598, 20 October
2009) Dickens decided to address the conditions of workers in the
northern factory districts, but it almost seems as if his talent could
not survive transplantation from his beloved London. Hard Times never
really comes alive, despite graphic depictions of greedy, grasping and
inhumane factory owners, contrasted with the creative freedom, kindness
and imagination of a group of circus performers.
Dickens also depicted trade union leaders as
self-interested demagogues and makes a hero of a mill worker, Stephen
Blackpool, who refuses to join the union. In Hard Times the message
overcomes the characters and the plot reveals the limitations of
Dickens’s ideas. Without a socialist viewpoint he can offer no
convincing and positive alternative to the capitalist system and its
inhumanity – "horror without end", as Lenin described it.
In Little Dorrit, Dickens returned to the time his
family spent in Marshalsea debtors’ prison when he was a boy. The novel
opens in a jail in Marseille, then sees William Dorrit and family
confined in Marshalsea prison until his debts are paid. Even when the
Dorrits are freed by an unexpected legacy they find themselves
metaphorically imprisoned by the rigid hierarchy of Victorian society.
In one passage, Dickens sees London itself as a giant prison: "Far
aslant across the city, over its jumbled roofs… struck the long bright
rays, bars of the prison of this lower world".
Dickens also targets capitalist swindling as the
Dorrits’ money is lost all over again in a financial crash caused by the
fraudulent transactions of Mr Merdle, a capitalist who had been the
doyen of bourgeois society. Merdle was based on an actual financier,
John Sadleir, the ‘Prince of Swindlers’, who was implicated in the
collapse of several banks in 1856. Not only the financial elite, but
also the political system, was the target of bitter satire in the
depiction of the Circumlocution Office, a corrupt and self-serving
government department which exists only to support and protect the
incompetence and venality of the ruling class.
In his final completed novel, Our Mutual Friend,
Dickens drew together his views of society into a single, bleak vision.
The joyous, humorous London of Pickwick Papers is now a dark and
menacing place. The book begins with the discovery of a body in the
Thames and there is a constant theme of death and false life. One of the
main characters, Mr Venus, makes his living as a taxidermist, stuffing
animals and articulating their skeletons.
It is a picture of a society in decay. Silas Wegg,
the one-legged ballad seller, fittingly reads Decline and Fall of the
Roman Empire to the illiterate owner of giant dust heaps. These huge
mounds of rubbish, manure and refuse, were nevertheless exceedingly
valuable. They were sources of scrap metal and timber, dust and ash for
brick-making, and manure for fertiliser. The plot of the book revolves
around who will get the wealth of the dust heaps. The overall feeling is
that wealth is a veneer, and the source of money is in death, filth and
corruption. Peter Ackroyd, a biographer of Dickens, describes Our Mutual
Friend as a "full frontal assault upon English life" – or, more
correctly, an assault on the life of the British bourgeoisie.
Dickens was not a revolutionary, or even a
socialist. But in his impassioned assertion of the right of working
people and the poor to be recognised as human beings he championed their
cause and exposed the rotten underbelly of Victorian capitalism. The
call for the poor to be treated as human beings was itself a
revolutionary demand.
His denunciation of the abuses of Victorian
capitalism met with little response from the country’s rulers. Even the
workhouses were not seriously reformed until 1905 under the pressure of
the newly formed Labour Party. Charles Dickens gradually grew
disillusioned, first with particular institutions, then widening his
targets until the whole financial and political system seemed to fill
him with disgust at the emptiness and falsity of bourgeois society. Much
of his criticism – of financial chicanery, the callous mistreatment of
the poor, and the inhuman pursuit of money and profit – remains just as
relevant today.