Ronald Searle Does Dickens

In my post https://derrickjknight.com/2012/07/06/the-drain/ I liken a butcher’s in the Leadenhall Market that I knew 60 Christmases ago to ‘a film set for ‘A Christmas Carol”. When, in 1960, Ronald Searle produced these endpapers for the Perpetua Books 1961 edition of Charles Dickens’s story of that name he surely would have had a similar scene in mind.

I scanned the illustrations to this book yesterday in readiness for today’s post.

Marley’s ghost haunts the frontispiece.

Dramatic black and white drawings are interspersed with

evocative two-page colour spreads which, like the endpapers, because of the large format of the publication, have to be scanned page at a time, struggling to make the presented images fit reasonably well.

At my initial attempt I scanned the double spreads which resulted in these first two pictures being trimmed at the sides, thus losing the lamp in number one and the mouse in the second – effectively ruining the artist’s whimsical compositions.

After more Christmas preparations we dined this evening on Jackie’s well-filled beef and onion pie; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots, tender cabbage, and thick, meaty gravy, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank Recital red wine, 2018.

A Christmas Carol

Of Charles Dickens’s 5 Christmas Books the best known, which needs no commentary from me, is ‘A Christmas Carol’. I have no need to read it again to scan Charles Keepings’s illustrations for my Folio Society edition of 1988. The introduction is by Christopher Hibbert.

Here are the illustrated pages.

This evening we dined on succulent chicken Kiev; crisp oven chips; firm cauliflower and runner beans, with moist ratatouille. Jackie finished the Cotes de Gascogne and I drank Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon 2019

An Internationally Renowned Work

When, in August 1898, Czar Nicholas II of Russia called for all ‘the nations to join a conference for the limitation of armaments’ cynics mistrusted his motives, believing this was because his nation was so far behind the major powers with whom he would never be able to catch up without such breathing space. We learn this from ‘The Steady Drummer – The Hague: 1899 and 1907’, being the 5th Chapter of Barbara W. Tuchman’s ‘The Proud Tower’.

Tuchman chronicles the two conferences that took place in these years, making it clear that every nation involved, including the US and European in 1907 supplemented at the insistence of the Americans by the Latin-American States, would put their own interests ahead of the others; the strong and better armed belligerents wanted it kept that way; disarmament and arms reduction were out of the question. Some progress was eventually made on the conduct of war, which, of course, would come to be blatantly ignored during the next half century. Humanity’s natural competition, territorial greed, and distrust prevailed.

I finished reading this section of the book this afternoon.

I don’t know when I last read Charles Dickens’s ‘The Adventures of Oliver Twist’, but it would have been before I began blogging, otherwise I would have scanned and featured before now my Folio Society edition of 1984 with

Charles Keepings’s inimitable illustrations sprawling across the pages, the first of which is the frontispiece.

Christopher Hibbert has written a useful introduction. I have not felt it necessary to review such an internationally well-known work.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy pasta arrabbiata with tender runner beans. The Culinary Queen finished the Greco di Tufo and I drank more of the Recital, involving an encore from another bottle.

Edwin Drood

My inspirational teacher, Richard Milward, featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2012/07/04/no-one-forgets-a-good-teacher/ stressed that a story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. As I have progressed through my reading life I have come to believe that the journey through a book has been more important to me than the focus on a satisfactory ending. Charles Dickens, however, would have followed Mr Milward’s mantra – and rightly so.

The exception of course was

This was no fault of the author who had panned out his tale in his even more than usually cryptic notes, but unfortunately fell to a fatal heart attack when only a third of the way through the work. Just three of the chapter instalments had been published and Dickens had been compelled to elide some of the text for the next two because he had written too much for their publication in their customary form. It was left to others to edit the rest and reintroduce the omissions.

Despite its gradual infusion of foreboding, the writer’s customary dry wit and humorous descriptions feature throughout the published sections. The characterisation is typical of the master, and has the promise of more complexity than usual.

I have to acknowledge a gradual slackening of interest in the last fifty pages or so: perhaps I did really need to know there would be one of my old schoolmaster’s favoured endings; perhaps the humour had lessened; perhaps the emphasis on the likely death of Edwin reflected Charles Dickens’s premonition of his own demise.

Would it not have served our great novelist’s memory better to have left the publication of Edwin Drood at the episodes he saw into print himself?

Christopher Hibbert’s introduction to my Folio Society edition is useful and informative, as is the publisher’s note on the text and reproduction of Dickens’s own outline plan.

The illustrations,

in the artist’s typically lively idiosyncratic style, are faithful to the text and refuse to be constrained by the same boundaries as the typeset blocks.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s Chicken and leek pie, which she photographed herself; creamy mashed potatoes; green peas; crunchy carrots; piquant cauliflower cheese; tender cabbage, and tasty gravy with which we jointly finished the Sauvignon Blanc.

Characterisation

‘The Posthumous Papers of The Pickwick Club’ was the 24 year old Charles Dickens’s  serialised debut novel. Such publications in 1836 were the soaps of the period before television and a more leisurely age when reading was a main source of entertainment. The monthly instalments of these comic capers were eagerly awaited by those in many walks of life. Those who couldn’t read gathered round their more literate friends and colleagues, having contributed to the costs of library borrowing.

Today’s promotional merchandise boosting sales for blockbuster films and best-selling books like the Harry Potter series are no new idea. Pickwick inspired items were on sale when Queen Victoria came to the throne. There may not have been a market for replica football kits, but there was for Pickwick hats and coats.

The novel itself is really a series of short stories stitched together with the thread of what Mr Pickwick himself terms his “rambles” which were taken by coach and horses with groups of friends around the South of England. Interest was a little slow to catch on and the young author seemed to be feeling his way before picking up the pace with gusto. Gradually we become attached the characters introduced along the way.

Every so often what appears to be an extraneous story is introduced in the patched garment. These I found of varying interest.

As usual with Dickens, we learn much about the social, economic, and legal aspects of contemporary life. The author writes with fluidity; with remarkable knowledge of human nature; and with considerable humour. But, then, the world has appreciated that for almost two centuries,

All the strands are neatly drawn together in the closing stages when we learn the outcome of various relationships and their prospective futures.

Christopher Hibbert’s introduction to my Folio Society edition is scholarly and informative – I owe Pickwick hats and coats to him.

I have now finished reading the lengthy tome and can complete my posting of Charles Keeping’s

lively line drawings leaping exuberantly from the leaves of the book. I have written before about the artist’s fidelity to the text. What is also striking is his expressive rendering of the author’s characterisation. Keeping conveys the nature of his subjects with humour and accuracy. Some are grotesque caricatures; others gentle and sensitive souls. Comparison with the first and last of today’s selection will indicate that Charles Keeping can produce consistent individual portraits.

This evening we dined on smoked haddock, cod fish cakes, very tasty carrots, tender runner beans, juicy ratatouille and Jackie’s piquant cauliflower cheese, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Syrah.

Fidelity

This morning we visited Shelley and Ron’s home bearing flowers and cards for a particular occasion. Ron was otherwise engaged, but Helen was also present. We enjoyed coffee and conversation and returned home for lunch.

Having reached page 556 of The Pickwick Papers I am ready to reproduce another batch of Charles Keeping’s illustrations to the Folio Society edition.

Close perusal of the last double page spread comparing the author’s text with the lively line drawings will display the artist’s fidelity to Charles Dickens’s writing and the skill of whoever planned the layout of the book. Should it be necessary, a click or two will enlarge the leaves.

This evening we dined on roast lamb; roast potatoes and butternut squash; crisp Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots; tender cabbage; and very meaty gravy, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Finca Carelio Tempranillo Barrica 2015.