The Uncommercial Traveller, by Charles Dickens
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The Uncommercial Traveller, by Charles Dickens
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At the height of his career, around the time he was working on Great Expectations and Our Mutual Friend, Charles Dickens wrote a series of sketches, mostly set in London, which he collected as The Uncommercial Traveller. In the persona of 'the Uncommercial', Dickens wanders the city streets and brings London, its inhabitants, commerce and entertainment vividly to life. Sometimes autobiographical, as childhood experiences are interwoven withadult memories, the sketches include visits to the Paris Morgue, the Liverpool docks, a workhouse, a school for poor children, and the theatre. They also describe the perils of travel, including seasickness, shipwreck, the coming of the railways, and the wretchedness of dining in English hotels and restaurants. The work is quintessential Dickens, with each piece showcasing his imaginative writing style, his keen observational powers, and his characteristic wit. In this edition Daniel Tyler explores Dickens's fascination with the city and the book's connections with concerns evident in his fiction: social injustice, human mortality, a fascination with death and the passing of time. Often funny, sometimes indignant, always exuberant, The Uncommercial Traveller is a revelatory encounter withDickens, and the Victorian city he knew so well.
The Uncommercial Traveller, by Charles Dickens - Amazon Sales Rank: #1843587 in eBooks
- Published on: 2015-10-08
- Released on: 2015-10-08
- Format: Kindle eBook
The Uncommercial Traveller, by Charles Dickens Review beautiful volume The National fascinating Methodist Recorder
About the Author Charles DickensDaniel Tyler has researched Dickens's creative processes through the manuscript drafts of his fiction. He is the author of A Guide to Dickens's London and editor of Dickens's Style. He is a frequent reviewer for the Times Literary Supplement.
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0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. ‘“Give us drilled boys, for they are prompt, obedient and punctual’” (p. 213). By R. Russell Bittner For Dickens—the social engineer—perhaps no essay in this collection comes closer to illustrating his compassion for, and personal (because once lived) understanding of, the plight of the child-pauper than XXI “The Short Timers” (pp. 205-215). It’s a truth as timeless as any I know, and I heard a modern-day rendition of it just the other day from a woman who leads children’s tours in the Discovery Garden of the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Those who start out with the least in life are generally the most grateful and reverential when a gift, however modest, falls into their hands.For the joys of traveling, lodging and dining in the England of Dickens’s time, “Refreshments for Travellers” (pp. 52 – 60) is, itself, a joy to read. To get a sense of the immense “rewards” reaped by British soldiers fighting colonialist battles abroad, read “The Great Tasmania’s Cargo” (pp. 74 – 82). Thomas Wolfe once wrote a novel titled You Can’t Go Home Again. Although it’s just one chapter in The Uncommercial Traveller, “Dullborough Town” (pp. 116 – 125) comes closest to Wolfe’s opus—or at least to my memory of a book I read over forty years ago. Rarely would I cite a footnote in a review such as this one. That said, this particular footnote (I feel) bears citation. In the essay titled “Chambers” in which Dickens sheds some “ghostly” light on one of his first jobs, we get an even keener sense of Dickens’s rather acerbic sense of humor in reading an end-of-text footnote (on p. 376) in explanation of the use of Dickens’s “Resurrection Man”: “a ‘resurrection man’ is a body snatcher, or a person who illegally exhumes bodies in order to sell them to anatomists (OED). Dickens once gave out a calling card with ‘Charles Dickens: Resurrectionist – in search of a subject’ on it, as if to suggest, in a grimly humorous way, a parallel with his vocation as a writer.” For a typically Dickensian (i.e., exquisitely written; moving; humane) non-fiction story, I recommend Chapter XVII (“The Italian Prisoner”), pp. 168 – 177. If you’re accustomed to thinking of London as a regal metropolis, Dickens takes another (and much dimmer) view of the city. In XXV (“The Boiled Beef of New England”), pp. 245-253, we read the following: “(t)he shabbiness of our English capital, as compared with Paris, Bordeaux, Frankfort, Milan, Geneva—almost any important town on the continent of Europe—I find very striking after an absence of any duration in foreign parts. London is shabby in contrast with New York, with Boston, with Philadelphia. In detail, I would say it can rarely fail to be a disappointing piece of shabbiness, to a stranger from any of those places. There is nothing shabbier than Drury-lane, in Rome itself. The meanness of Regent-street, set against the great line of Boulevarts (sic!) in Paris, is as striking as the abortive ugliness of Trafalgar-square, set against the gallant beauty of the Place de la Concorde. London is shabby by daylight, and shabbier by gaslight. No Englishman knows what gaslight is, until he sees the Rue de Rivoli and the Palais Royal after dark.” Note: I suspect—much like English cuisine these days—that Dickens’s view of London in this passage is at least as dated as his use of the word “boulevart” for “boulevard.” Both the cuisine and the city itself have come a long way in the last 147 years. And as regards his comment about New York (I can’t speak with any kind of real authority about either Boston or Philadelphia, inasmuch as I don’t know the seedier parts of those two cities), I think he should’ve looked a bit more critically behind the curtain. Additional note: the rest of this same essay is an excellent illustration of Dickens’s unquestioned respect for the English working class, even if his “respect” for the class of which he is unquestionably a part is rather less than enthusiastic. Dicken’s—we can readily see in this essay—was no high-handed moralist. If Dickens shows genuine commiseration with the working class, he shows anything but with the criminal and parasitical elements of his day—the elements then referred to as “roughs,” but which have earned the more recent sobriquet of “hooligans.” For the evidence, see Chapter XXX (“The Ruffian”), pp. 295-301. If I’ve awarded only four stars to this work, it is not because the work falls short of even the twinkle of a fifth star—but rather because Dickens’s fiction is so one-of-a-kind. The prose in this work of non-fiction shines just as brightly, but it doesn’t move or entertain in quite the same way. Would I recommend THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER to anyone but a Dickens scholar? Quite honestly, no. Most of the material is dated—and Dickens’s syntax is, well, Dickensian. Even the most sedulous of readers has more of literary merit at his or her present command than one life will allow.RRB02/05/16Brooklyn, NY
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