The Last Dickens

Moments ago, I finished "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" by Charles Dickens. It was Dickens last book, one he never finished for he died while he was in the middle of writing it. I have now read all of Dickens novels, it's a personal goal of mine I was both looking forward to and dreading. I was looking forward to it because it's been a personal goal for sometime and I wanted that feeling of accomplishment after you have finished something; but dreading it at the same time because I knew once I did accomplish it, there wouldn't be anymore new Dickens novels to enjoy.

I still remember when I first started reading "David Copperfield", the first book of Dickens that caught my eye. I had read "Hard Times" years before, but "David Copperfield" was the one that instigated my love of Dickens. I still remember reading that first line, still one of the best opening lines of any book I've ever read, suddenly I was grabbed. I was 22 or 23 at the time, I was a college student, I was still finding my own voice. I didn't really feel I got the chance to learn much in college, I took theatre, I was going into film school, but I was still feeling adrift.

I felt I had something to say and didn't quite know how do it yet, I was still learning who I was. Dickens came at the right moment, his books sort of steered me in the right direction. When I first read "David Copperfield" it was a difficult book, I kinda look at it as teaching myself how to read all over again. I knew how to read but I always struggled with classic literature. Scholars tell us we are suppose to appreciate these books yet I knew no one who really enjoyed them. Still there was something there with that first line of "David Copperfield" that intrigued me.

I enjoyed reading always, but I always found it difficult to concentrate on a book, I sometimes still do. Occasionally my mind would wonder as I would read and I wouldn't focus on the passages of the book and get lost in the story. I decided to kind of train myself to pay attention starting with "David Copperfield"; whenever there was a passage I didn't understand, I would go back and re-read it until it did make sense. Earlier on, I would read full chapters out loud thinking it would make more sense in my head; I did this until my voice would literally get hoarse. As I was doing this, I found myself enjoying the book more and understanding the way Dickens would write. It was as if a whole new world opened up to me, I soon could get lost in his language and his stories, it was no longer a chore.

"David Copperfield" took me about four months to finish, but afterwards I felt much more educated. Pretty soon I would go on to read "Oliver Twist" and simply fell in love with "Nicholas Nickleby". I became a convert almost over night, Dickens wasn't just an author to appreciate, he became a way of life for me. The way he saw the world, his attention to detail of London streets, or characters. He paid close attention to the way people spoke, he knew how real Londoners talked be they upper class or lower class, also depending on where they were from. There was warm humour in his books, sometimes he sentimentalized. His books had love stories in them, but rarely was that the focal point. The closest actual love story he did I would say was "Little Dorrit" which surprised me. His books usually contained a labyrinth of characters and plots, usually secrets were kept until the very end. His books were tremendously popular at the time, he gave people stories that they wanted. Sometimes that could hinder his writing. My two least favorite of his books were "Martin Chuzzlewit" and "The Old Curiosity Shop" both of which suffer from what seems to be Dickens trying to write for his audience rather than himself, yet despite there flaws, both books have wonderful passages in them.

Perhaps the one book by Dickens that had the biggest emotional effect on me was "A Tale of Two Cities". That book, which takes place during the french revolution had an ending so powerful, I can still remember how I felt when I first read it. It's the ultimate story of self-sacrifice and of one man who is able to find redemption through it. Perhaps it's old fashioned to think of values like these which I sometimes think are lost in today's world, but the book was very life affirming. It was like a spiritual awakening almost, I get that way when a piece of art moves me so much, it can have the power to change your perspective on things.

Years went by, I went through all of Dickens, "Bleak House", "A Christmas Carol", "Great Expectations" right up to "Our Mutual Friend", only "Edwin Drood" remained. It now seems a bit anti-climactic seeing how the book was never finished, and to end this journey of Dickens on such an incomplete note. Dickens has meant so much to me these past few years, I truly believe he was part of my life's education.

Today I consider myself a writer more than an actor, I like creating stories, making things up. Although I wouldn't say what I write is Dickensian in any way, I can feel his influence, mostly in my dialogue, I focus on trying to keep it as real as possible the way people really speak, that's from reading him. I hope someday perhaps to write something that could make someone feel the way I did when I read "A Tale of Two Cities", that emotional, life affirming essence that is only found with the most special of writers.

I look forward to revisiting my collection of Dickens books, I'd like to read "David Copperfield" again as it's the one I feel started this journey for me. Dickens is someone who will always be in my heart, I will never stop reading him, to me he represents what good writing is, he will never stop inspiring me and challenging me. Onward and upward.