Charles Dickens's Dombey and Son, Nos. XI–XII (Chs. 32-38)

No. XI (chs. 32-34)
It’s entered on the ship’s log, and that’s the truest book as a man can write. (505)

As I had kind of predicted, after a heavy emphasis on Florence and Dombey in the previous installment, we totally stay away from the two of them here. The first chapter is about Captain Cuttle finding out that Walter's ship was destroyed at sea with no survivors. (My prediction, though: in the absence of a body, assume he will turn up alive in a later installment nonetheless.) Dickens does a great job with Cuttle's grief:

Because it ain’t one loss, but a round dozen. Where’s that there young schoolboy with the rosy face and curly hair, that used to be as merry in this here parlour, come round every week, as a piece of music? Gone down with Wal’r. Where’s that there fresh lad, that nothing couldn’t tire nor put out, and that sparkled up and blushed so, when we joked him about Heart’s Delight, that he was beautiful to look at? Gone down with Wal’r. Where’s that there man’s spirit, all afire, that wouldn’t see the old man hove down for a minute, and cared nothing for itself? Gone down with Wal’r. It ain’t one Wal’r. There was a dozen Wal’rs that I know’d and loved, all holding round his neck when he went down, and they’re a-holding round mine now! (505)

People claim that we didn't get the idea of a multiplicity of selves until modernism, but Charles Dickens has got it here!

Dombey and Son by Charles Dickens

Originally published: 1846-48
Acquired: December 2024
Installments read: January 2025

This chapter, and the other two, continue the growing recognition of the villainy of Mr Carker. Mr Carker reacts coldly to Captain Cuttle's announcement of Walter's death, throwing him out of the firm. The next couple are honestly a bit confusing at first, because over halfway through this book, Dickens is apparrently still introducing new key characters! I thought at first they were from earlier chapters and I'd forgot them, but no. I guess if you think of each quarter of the novel as a "season" of a television show (which seems a pretty good analogy, pacing-wise), it makes sense to introduce some new regular cast members at the beginning of season three. 

Anyway, the new character here is Harriet, the sister of the two Carker brothers; in this chapter, she has a conversation with a mysterious man about John, the disgraced one; there are also hints that Mr Carker is up to something as regards Edith, Dombey's new wife. Harriet then dispenses some assistance to a homeless woman.

Then, in the next chapter, we learn more about the homeless woman, another new character, named Alice—but like Harriet, related to a preexisting character, Good Mrs Brown, the street woman who way back in installment no. iii took advantage of Florence. Alice is Mrs Brown's daughter, recently returned from transportation to Australia. Here, we learn that 1) Good Mrs Brown has been keeping tabs on the Dombeys ever since then, and 2) they both have some reason to hate Mr Carker. Upon Alice realizing it was Carker who helped her, she and her mother actually go back to Harriet's house and return the assistance she got. Wow! How all this is going to weave together, but provided I can keep track of it all, I am interested to find out.

No. XII (chs. 35-38)
'Polly, my gal,' said Mr Toodle, with a young Toodle on each knee, and two more making tea for him, and plenty more scattered about – Mr Toodle was never out of children, but always kept a good supply on hand. (580)

Unlike most installments of Dombey and Son, this one has four chapters instead of three—I assume of somewhat shorter length, since I think all the installments are equally long. The first one here is the real standout, chronicling the return of Dombey and the new Mrs Dombey, Edith, from their honeymoon:

'And how my dearest Dombey did you find that delightfullest of cities, Paris?' she [Mrs Skewton, his mother-in-law] asked, subduing her emotion.
     'It was cold,' returned Mr Dombey.
     'Gay as ever,' said Mrs Skewton, 'of course.'
     'Not particularly. I thought it dull.' (543)

There's a really beautiful, but sad, and powerfully written, scene as Dombey almost finds himself showing affection toward Florence. But then he realizes that the only time that Edith demonstrates any affection toward anyone is when she sees Florence; indeed, Edith is a totally different person in the presence of Florence. What exactly Edith is up to, we don't know, but it's clear the one person she has genuine affection toward is not even her own mother, but Florence. Dombey is still, so still that Florence and Edith take him to be asleep in his chair, and so he observes them in secret, discovering a different side to the two of them that he never gets to see under normal circumstances.

The motto of the book, its indictment of Dombey, might be best expressed through this exchange in chapter 35:

[Dombey:] 'I directed that no expense should be spared; and all that money could do, has been done, I believe.'
     'And what can it not do, dear Dombey?' observed Cleopatra.
     'It is powerful, Madam.' (544)

Obviously the trajectory of this novel is going to be Dombey learning that there are things more powerful than money... but at what cost is this knowledge going to come? For me, the most heartrending passage in this chapter was this exchange between a couple of Dombey's servants: "Cook leads a sigh then, and a murmur of 'Ah, it’s a strange world, – it is indeed!' and when it has gone round the table, adds persuasively, 'but Miss Florence can’t well be the worse for any change, Tom.' Mr Towlinson’s rejoinder, pregnant with frightful meaning, is 'Oh, can’t she though!'" (542). It does seem quite probable to me that things are going to get worse for Florence before they get better; you can feel the tension rising through this chapter most excruciatingly. Poor Florence.

The other chapters here are less captivating but still important, showing the continuing deterioration (is that the right word? you can't deteriorate a thing that was never constructed to begin with) the Dombeys' new marriage, and the continuing negative influence of Carker.

Back in the opening quarter of the book, with Paul's schooling, there was a lot of Dickens's usual invective against bad systems of education; with Paul dead, we can't really get that, but there's still a little of it here, through the character of Rob, who is sent to a badly run charity school for the lower classes:

they never taught honour at the Grinders’ School, where the system that prevailed was particularly strong in the engendering of hypocrisy. Insomuch, that many of the friends and masters of past Grinders said, if this were what came of education for the common people, let us have none. Some more rational said, let us have a better one. But the governing powers of the Grinders’ Company were always ready for them, by picking out a few boys who had turned out well in spite of the system, and roundly asserting that they could have only turned out well because of it. Which settled the business of those objectors out of hand, and established the glory of the Grinders’ Institution. (588-89)

This is the fourth in a series of posts about Dombey and Son. The next covers installment no. xiii and beyond. Previous installments are listed below:

1. Nos. I–IV (chs. 1-13)
2. Nos. V–VII (chs. 14-22)
3. Nos. VIII–X (chs. 23-31)