Book the First: SOWING

Chapter One: The One Thing Needful

The novel begins with a short introduction. Inside a classroom, "the speaker" repeats the exclamation "Now, what I want is, Facts." He presents the argument that the formation of a child's mind must be rooted in the study of fact. The schoolroom is as hard and plain as the teacher's teaching style. All of the children are focused on him. Besides "the speaker" there is also "the schoolmaster and the third grown person" who stand before the pupils.

Analysis

This chapter has little narrative content (only three paragraphs), but its imagery is intense. From the very beginning, Dickens establishes himself within a contemporary debate on the nature of learning, knowledge and education. The description of the classroom is definitely satire, a critique of utilitarianism, and similar philosophies that suggested the absolute reliance upon calculations and facts in opposition to emotion, artistic inspiration and leisure.

The novel is divided into three "books" entitled Sowing, Reaping and Garnering. This agricultural motif is introduced by the "sowing" of facts as "seeds" into the fertile minds of the young boys and girls. "The one thing needful" is the seed of "fact" and even though the insistence upon "hard facts" seems infertile and unyielding, the motif of sowing makes the classroom a literal kindergarten. To be more precise, the imagery of "sowing" and horticulture varies from the children as the planted field and the children as plants themselves. At one point, "the Speaker" charges the instructor to "plantŠand root out" in order to form the children's minds. Later, the children are described as "little vessels then and there arranged in order," not unlike the wisps of hair on the side of the Speaker's head, humorously described as "a plantation of firs."

The sum of Dickens' imagery contrasts the words of gardening and horticulture with the actual scene depicted: "plain, bare, monotonousŠinflexible, dry and dictatorial." Dickens means to say that there is no true sowing taking place in the "vault of a schoolroom." Against the archetype of youth (spring, sowing, fertility), the older men are "square;" eyes are described as having "found commodious cellarage in two dark caves, overshadowed by the wall." Dickens' hyperbole makes architecture out of the physical description of The Speaker (who seems rather villain-like). Dickens wants to demonstrate that the idea of the child's mind as a "vessel" that is "ready to have imperial gallons of facts poured"‹this creates adults whose brains are described as mere "cellarage"‹space for facts.

While Dickens de-personifies the Speaker (he is more of an object and a symbol than an actual person), various objects in the schoolroom, in particular the Speaker's clothing, take on personality and activity of their own. The Speaker's tie is "trained to take him by the throat with an unaccommodating grasp." The Speaker has trained the tie to be as unaccommodating as this school system. The sum of Dickens' images, from sowing to strangulation, should clearly foreshadow the "hard times" that are ahead.

The two important allusions to note are both Biblical ones: the use of the word "sowing" does not only correspond to the old proverb "you reap what you sow" but it has a particular resonance with Dickens' largely Protestant English audience. While the Bible makes arguments for diligent "sowing" in practical and spiritual matters, Dickens' inevitable argument is a defense for leisure‹against the constant diligence, the dependence upon hard facts and the unaccommodating grasp that are later re-cast as the "Protestant Work Ethic" by Max Weber, a philosopher. The second Biblical allusion is along the same lines: one of the New Testament parables makes mention of good Christians as "vessels" who are to be "filled" by God, much as the "dictatorial" Speaker has an "inclined plane of little vessels" that he will fill with his "imperial gallons." Here, the Speaker's imagery and intentions seem so superhuman and yet, misanthropic (anti-human) that he becomes not a parallel but a foil of the Christian messiah (another educator) to whom Dickens alludes. The speaker demands power without the benevolence, patience or sacrifice that is expected of the role.

The speaker is instructing the schoolteacher on how to instruct and this adds to the irony and deliberate confusion of the short scene. The Speaker's anonymity, the power of his voice, and his pointed "square forefinger" all combine as a symbol of a man with God-like authority. No one teaches the children, but the Speaker plays schoolteacher to the schoolteacher; and he is the only one who speaks. There is no dialogue in the chapter, only the Speaker's reiterations and the bystanders' silent assent.

The role of power in education is a theme that is treated throughout the novel, and the balance between leisure and diligence is definitely dependent upon the methods of force and power demonstrated. Later chapters will expand upon another theme that is only foreshadowed here: the wrestle between Romanticism and Utilitarianism. While Utilitarianism focuses on hard facts and calculations, Romanticism is more spiritual, tends towards the artistic and the poetic and makes aesthetic valuations that Utilitarianism finds irrelevant. Dickens does not wholly endorse the Romantic point-of-view, but with his (artistic) livelihood potentially at stake, he does use a number of rhetorical devices to defeat the principles of Utilitarianism. After all, who could read novels, if they were only after "hard facts?"

As for rhetoric, Dickens' use of absolutes and hyperbole must be remembered; the arguments he puts into the mouths of the Utilitarian philosophers are characteristic but they are exaggerated. The brilliance of Dickens' caricatures‹as seen in his other novels, especially Our Mutual Friend‹is in itself an argument against "hard facts" for his skewed depictions of skewed power-relationships offer the truth at the heart of the matter, if not the "hard fact." This first chapter is prefatory, and in the second, Dickens introduces the names of the characters and their town as a further element of caricature.

A final point to be noted concerns the nature of Dickens' narrative structure. One interesting dynamic the reader must bear in mind comes from the fact that Dickens' work was originally serialized‹each of these short chapters came as an installment in a magazine. Dickens stays close to the classical trilogy/tripartite structures by dividing the work into three books that have an inherent narrative: after sowing comes reaping, after reaping comes garnering (though one can often reap and sow and leave it at that). The reader can compare the larger three-part structure with the smaller chapter-to-chapter structure. While we know that Reaping follows Sowing, Chapter One ("The One Thing Needful") is not so continuous with Chapter Two ("Murdering the Innocents").

As the novel progresses, Dickens will not need to bring in new characters as often as he will in the first chapters; additionally, the chapters become more coherent and continuous as the novel gets closer to its end. The number of installments Dickens was to write had already predetermined the length of the novel! As we see in Chapter One, Dickens uses tactics of suspense: withheld information (what is the geographical setting?); foreshadowed doom ("unaccommodating grasp"); unnamed anonymous figures ("the speaker, and the schoolmaster, and the third grown person") and a cliffhanger at the conclusion (literally: "the inclined plane of little vessels then and there arranged in order, readyŠ"). Dickens must use suspense so that his reader will buy the next serial.

Chapter Two: Murdering the Innocents

Chapter Two begins with the introduction of Thomas Gradgrind, "a man of realitiesŠfacts and calculations." He always introduces himself as Mr. Gradgrind and spends his time in constant cogitation. He is the Speaker, previously unnamed and he now takes it as his duty to educate the children ("little pitchers before him"). He identifies a student, called Girl number twenty, who replies that her name is Sissy Jupe. Gradgrind corrects her that her name is Cecilia regardless of what her father calls her. Jupe's father is involved in a horse-riding circus and this is not respectable‹in Gradgrind's opinion. He advises Cecilia to refer to her father as a "farrier" (the person who shoes a horse) or perhaps, a "veterinary surgeon."

The lesson continues with Gradgrind's command: "Give me your definition of a horse." While Girl number twenty knows what a horse is, she is unable to define one. Another child in the class, a boy called Bitzer, easily defines the animal by means of biological classifications (quadruped, graminivorous, etc.). After this, the third gentleman steps forward. He is a government officer as well as a famous boxer and he is known for his alert belligerence. His job is to remove "fancy" and "imagination" from the minds of the children. They learn that it is nonsense to decorate a room with representations of horses because horses do not walk up and down the sides of rooms in reality. Sissy Jupe is a slow learner, among the group of stragglers who admit that they would dare to carpet a room with representations of flowers because she is "fond" of them. Sissy is taught that she must not "fancy" and that she is "to be in all things regulated and governed by fact."

After the gentleman finishes his speech, the schoolteacher, Mr. M'Choakumchild, begins his instruction. He has been trained in a schoolteacher-factory and has been conditioned to be dry, inflexible and uninspiring‹but full of hard facts. His primary job in these preparatory lessons is to find "Fancy" in the minds of the children and eradicate it.

Analysis:

"Murdering the Innocents" replaces the suspense of the previous chapter by establishing names and identities for the previously anonymous social roles that were presented earlier. As is to be expected from Dickens, the names of the characters are emblematic of their personality; usually, Dickens' characters can be described as innocent, villainous or unaware of the moral dilemmas of the story that surrounds them. The characters' names are almost always an immediate indication of where the character fits on Dickens' moral spectrum. Thomas Gradgrind, "a man of realities" is a hard educator who grinds his students through a factory-like process, hoping to produce graduates (grads). Additionally, Gradgrind is a "doubting Thomas"‹much like the Biblical apostle who resisted belief in the resurrection, this Thomas urges that students depend exclusively upon the evidence in sight. He dismisses faith, fancy, belief, emotion and trust at once. Mr. M'Choakumchild is plainly villainous and he resembles the sort of fantastic ogres he'd prefer students took no stock in.

Cecilia (Sissy) Jupe is unlike the other characters in almost every possible way. While there are other female students, she is the only female identified thus far in the novel. Unlike the boy "Bitzer" (who has the name of a horse), Sissy has a nickname and at least in this chapter, she is the lone embodiment of "fancy" at the same time that she is the single female presented as a contrast to the row of hardened mathematical men. Her character is, of course, a romanticized figure. Despite the political critique of Dickens' simplification and over-idealization of females and children (and girls, especially), Cecilia's character does have some depth that allows her development later in the novel. Her last name, "Jupe," comes from the French word for "skirts" and her first name, Cecilia, represents the sainted patroness of music. Especially as she is a member of a traveling circus, we can expect Cecilia to represent "Art" and "Fancy" in contrast to M'Choakumchild, one of 141 schoolmasters who "had been lately turned at the same time, in the same factory, on the same principles, like so many pianoforte legs."

Besides the allusion to St. Cecilia, Dickens alludes to Morgiana, a character in the classic story "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves"‹one of the Arabian Nights tales. The reader should always note the irony in Dickens' allusions: while Dickens' characters argue against fanciful literature, Dickens' is relying upon it to compose his story. In this case, Dickens' simile presents M'Choakumchild's search for "the robber Fancy" in terms of Morgiana's searching for (and hiding of) the thieves in "Ali Baba." The metaphor of the children as eager "vessels" is made explicit when the "vessels" before M'Choakumchild become the "jars" before Morgiana. And the motif of robbers and villains is finalized when we remember that Ali Baba and the forty thieves were more hero than criminal. M'Choakumchild is labeled "gentleman" but his intention to seek and destroy "the robber Fancy lurking within" makes "the robber Fancy" (childish imagination) a more noble personification. Instead, the teachers are the ones who seem criminal.

The most important allusion of the chapter is the title: "Murdering the Innocents." The reader should expect Dickens work to be full of Biblical and Christian allusions as he is writing to a largely sentimental popular audience. While the reference may be more inaccessible, erudite or unrecognizable for modern young readers, Dickens' 1854 British audience immediately saw the reference to King Herod. Soon after the birth of Christ, Herod fears for his throne and has all of the male babies in Bethlehem executed (in the hopes of murdering the Christ child). In literary circles, the phrase "murder of the innocents" is exclusively used to describe this Biblical story. While the students are not literally danger (M'Choakumchild), their childish imagination has been targeted for annihilation. This completes the archetype of youth vs. age, and foreshadows that whoever is being targeted and singled out (Cecilia Jupe and her imagination) will ultimately escape this tyrant, but other innocents will be less fortunate (Bitzer). But we might expect as much from the same author who had written A Christmas Carol a decade before.

The major theme of the chapter can be easily inferred from Dickens' description of Cecilia in the classroom. The "horses" and carpeted "flowers" are all double symbols of her femininity and youth, but most important, Cecilia represents Art in opposition to mechanization. Dickens is not arguing against education, science or progress. He is arguing against a mode of factory-style, mind-numbing, grad-grinding production that takes the fun out of life. But even worse than the loss of "fun" or "leisure," Dickens is arguing that art requires an inquisitive and desiring mind. Especially as Dickens is known to have read and enjoyed Arabian Nights in his youth, we can see a bit of autobiography in his tender treatment of Cecilia‹perhaps if he had come under a Mr. M'Choakumchild, he would have proved incapable of becoming an artist.

Chapter Three: A Loophole

Mr. Gradgrind is walking home from school and he is thinking about his students and his children‹who are also under his tutelage. He considers them to be models, for he has trained them since birth, and they have attended many lectures. He is quite confident in them, for they study all of the most important subjects and their academic knowledge is well-rounded. Their earliest memories are of the chalkboard and they have learned plenty of statistics, though they know nothing of children's literature, of art or poetry or "silly" songs. Mr. Gradgrind forbids "wonder" and encourages classification and dissection, the exposition of fact.

Gradgrind's home is called Stone Lodge and he moved here after working in "the wholesale hardware trade." The house is short distance outside of "a great town" called Coketown and Mr. Gradgrind's current occupation is his intention of running for a seat in Parliament. The house is perfectly balanced, proportioned and calculated. The lawn and the gardens are all perfectly even. Gradgrind is thinking about all of these things as he walks home and he is close to his conclusion that everything is right in his world and everyone is behaving as they ought. But in this moment his "ears were invaded by the sound of music." A group flying the flag of "Sleary's Horse-riding" has attracted a small crowd with such acts and exhibitions as the "graceful equestrian Tyrolean Flower-Act," the "highly trained performing dog Merrylegs" and other fanciful amusements.

Gradgrind disregards the rabble and continues home, only when he looks to the rear of the circus booth, he sees a number of children peeping to see what is inside. Of course, Gradgrind heads over, intending to remove whichever students are in affiliation with his school. Much to his surprise, he finds his two children‹"his own metallurgical Louisa" and "his own mathematical Thomas" struggling to catch a glimpse of what is happening inside. Gradgrind startles them both and orders them home. Louisa is more bold in her anger; she is older than her brother but her extra years of schooling have made her more resentful than docile. In fact, Louisa has asked her brother to come along with her to the amusement. Gradgrind is embarrassed, arguing that the two children are debasing themselves but Louisa merely replies that she is "tired" and has been "tired for a long time." Dickens ends the chapter with Mr. Gradgrind's final exclamation and his own commentary: "What would Mr. Bounderby say!"‹as if Mr. Bounderby had been Mrs. Grundy.

Analysis:

We neither know Mr. Bounderby nor Mrs. Grundy (yet another of Dickens' cliffhangers), but from Mr. Gradgrind's statement we can infer that they are similarly boring and uninspiring adults with a heavy-handed disciplinary air about them. As the novel progresses, the narrative structure will rely more and more upon cliffhangers and the sometimes-abrupt introduction and disappearance of characters. The second chapter, "Murdering the Innocents," foreshadows this chapter, "A Loophole." Just as the theological commentary on Herod's Bethlehem massacre (allusion from Chapter 2) focuses on the escape of the Christ child in the midst of the mass murder, the "Loophole" now offers escape from the "Murdering." And just as this chapter ends with the cliffhanger (Who is Mr. Bounderby?), the next chapter, entitled "Mr. Bounderby" answers that very question. The question of location is answered however: Coketown, is the setting of the novel and it is an explicit critique of the social politics, corruption and depression of Manchester, England, a heavily industrialized city.

The new characters include "metallurgical Louisa" and "mathematical Thomas" and by now, the reader should notice the combined force of rhyme, consonance and alliteration in the character's names and descriptions of places. This stylistic point is worth dwelling on because usually these three devices‹especially when used in concert‹tend towards more lyrical language and more beautiful images. This is not necessarily the case in Dickens because he simply strips these literary rules to their basic meaning. A rhyme does not have to be fanciful, it only has to hint at a common trait.

For example: Coke in Coketown rhymes with Choak in M'Choakumchild.

Consonance describes the agreement of sounds (not necessarily a rhyme, but more often alliteration, or a combination of both). These are sounds that sound nice together, they repeat without perfectly rhyming, and while they sound nice together they are not necessarily nice sounding words.

For example: Bounderby and Grundy share consonant endings ­by and ­dy, as well as the ­nd sound in the middle. They are consonant but they do not perfectly rhyme. M'Choakumchild is depicted as a "dry Ogre chalking ghastly white figures" on the black board (ch-).

Alliteration, the repetition of letters (and as a result, sounds), is a final device we can use to group characters together.

Ogre, Gradgrind, Grundy, Bounderby.

Sissy/Cecilia Jupe, Signor Jupe, Josephine Sleary, Merrylegs.

"Metallurgical Louisa," Mathematical Thomas"

In some words and descriptors, we find unpleasant images that receive the benefit of alliterated sounds: mathematical Thomas and metallurgical Louisa can be viewed as pupils who have received the same rhyming (­ical) educational treatment‹but in truth, Louisa and Thomas will prove very different. Dickens takes these devices to the extreme in this chapter and while these rules prove true throughout the novel, the occasional exception or coincidental rhyme can pop up. All of the names mentioned above however, are sustained in the work. Bounderby later becomes metallic, Gradgrind establishes boundaries, etc. Dickens' caricatures are visual (he drew illustrations for the original editions) but they rely upon the repetition of repetition, over and over again, much like the factories.

Dickens takes another motif from children's literature and explicitly names the teacher as an "ogre" who is "taking childhood captive, and dragging it into gloomy statistical dens by the hair." The loophole is a symbol of escape‹both mentally and physically. The symbol of contrast to the loophole is Stone Lodge, the home of Gradgrind, and most definitely a "statistical den." Dickens simile presents the gardens "like a botanical account-book" and this sustains the underlying comparison between the statistical, grid-iron classifications (mathematical, metallurgical) and the freedom that one expects from nature. The children's "dissection" of the "Great Bear" constellation is a metaphor for the murder of fancy and mythology.

We recall the "horse" vs. "Quadruped. Graminivorous." debate and this is sustained in the images of animal "celebrities" from nursery rhymes‹figures who are unfamiliar for young Louisa and Thomas. Thematically, there have been several "loopholes" in the Gradgrind training. There is the loophole as peephole, which is a symbol that foreshadows a continued defiance (at least on Louisa's part); there is also the loophole of contradiction where astronomy permits the "Great Bear" but the real dog "Merrylegs" and the painted representation of "horses dancing sideways" on a wall are forbidden. Mr. Gradgrind's blind face prevents him from enjoying fancy but it also prevents him from seeing the contradictions in his thought and the loopholes through which his model children might escape.

Chapter Four: Mr. Bounderby

Mr. Josiah Bounderby is Mr. Gradgrind's closest friend, and just like Gradgrind he is a man "perfectly devoid of sentiment." Bounderby is very wealthy from his trade as a banker, a merchant and a manufacturer among other things. He has an imposing figure and his entire body is oversized, swelled and overweight. He calls himself a "self-made man" and he always tells his friends (the Gradgrinds, primarily) stories of how he grew up in the most wretched conditions. Mrs. Gradgrind has a very emotional temperament and she usually faints whenever Mr. Bounderby tells his horror stories of being born in a ditch or having lived the first ten years of his life as a vagabond. Bounderby continues to tell his stories, pacing in the formal drawing-room of Stone Lodge.

Bounderby is proud of self-made status, having risen to the ranks of the Gradgrinds without the "advantages" of education. Instead of attending school, Bounderby inevitably ran away from his grandmother, who would steal his shoes and sell them for alcohol, his mother having abandoned him soon after birth. He describes the periods of his life as follows: "Vagabond, errand-boy, vagabond, labourer, porter, clerk, chief manager, small partner, Josiah Bounderby of Coketown." He taught himself to read by looking at the outsides and signs of buildings.

Mr. Gradgrind informs his friend Bounderby that Louisa and Thomas were caught spying at a circus and Mrs. Gradgrind replies "I should as soon have expected to find my children reading poetry." Louisa and Thomas are present and the three adults express their disappointment. Bounderby makes it clear that the circus is composed of the very vagabonds that Louisa and Thomas should be grateful for having avoided. For his part, Bounderby adds that the circus is a "cursed bad thing for a girl like Louisa," subsequently apologizing for his profanity, but to his credit, he did not have a "refined growing up." Mr. Gradgrind is intent upon understanding what might have motivated Louisa and Thomas to stray from their rules and standards. Bounderby brings Cecilia Jupe (one of the "strollers' children") to Gradgrind's attention and he convinces him that Cecilia must be the factor influencing the Gradgrind children. Mr. Gradgrind is at first hesitant but he soon agrees with Bounderby that Cecilia must be removed from the school so that she might not infect the other students with her ideas. The chapter ends with Gradgrind and Bounderby's immediate venture into Coketown to confront "Signor Jupe" and remove Sissy from school.

Analysis:

Josiah Bounderby dominates the chapter, much as his physical figure dominates those surrounding him. At least at this point in the novel, it is unclear how exactly he became a "self-made" man and arrived at his fortunes. Bounderby is a man of social mobility and ever expanding boundaries, but Dickens' social commentary suggests that Bounderby is hypocritical: even as he complains that he had to crawl out of poverty without aid, he is the firmest advocate of Sissy Jupe's dismissal from the school. Other characters that are introduced in this chapter are Mrs. Gradgrind, an unintelligent hypochondriac. Three younger children, Jane, Adam Smith and Malthus are briefly depicted. They are relevant as references to economists: Adam Smith is considered the father of laissez-faire (capitalist) economics and his theories encourage hard work and competition. Thomas Malthus is a less famous and more depressing thinker whose primary economic argument explained the inevitability and desirability of a certain level of poverty‹as a means of avoiding overpopulation. Smith and Malthus are both symbols of the economic mode of production that has overrun Coketown.

Bounderby's self-presentation is pure hyperbole. While he may have been very poor once and certainly is now very rich, his overbearing stories sound very much like the "art" and "fancy" to which he is nominally opposed. As in a classic fairy-tale, he has a wicked grandmother who mistreats him. And there is a Shakespearean allusion in Bounderby's explanation of his birth ("ŠI was born in a ditchŠ As wet as a sop. A foot of water in itŠ.nobody would touch me with a pair of tongs.") Despite Bounderby's lack of a proper education, his lines are a paraphrase of very famous lines from Shakespeare's Macbeth (Act I) where witches boil a stew that includes a "finger of birth-strangled babe/Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,/Make the gruel thick and slabŠ" Ditch-born babies generally have bad luck, but Bounderby has somehow overcome his.

And it is strongly suggested that the images of vagabonds and circuses are the avenues towards idleness, and after idleness comes poverty. The focus on money and industry produces a motif of metals and minerals. Just as Coketown is named for "coke"‹the coal-like fuel of the industrial furnaces, we have seen "metallurgical Louisa" and now Bounderby is described as having a "metallic laugh," Mrs. Bounderby is described as not being an "alloy" because she is unintelligent, and Jane had fallen asleep "after manufacturing a good deal of moist pipe-clay on her face with slate-pencil and tears."

Bounderby's "cavernous eyes" are a symbol of the deep, dark secrets hiding (cave-like) in his past; but his resemblance with Gradgrind reminds the reader that Bounderby and Gradgrind are constantly operating surveillance‹there is a juxtaposition in the adults' spying on the children as they peep at the public circus, and this awkward relationship reveals how much power the adults have. When Bounderby greets Louisa with a goodbye kiss, she rubs this spot of her face incessantly and her proposal to cut that hole out of her face altogether hovers between metonymy and metaphor‹Louisa is increasingly desperate to remove herself from her present situation and Bounderby's advanced age only intensifies her anguish and foreshadows Bounderby's convoluted and confused desires for Louisa.

The theme of education and self-improvement is rather well-developed in this chapter. We find the hypocrisy of the self-made man who would bar Sissy Jupe from school; another irony is in Bounderby's repeated admission of being low-class. After he uses the phrase "cursed bad thing," Bounderby continues: "I should ask Mrs. Gradgrind's pardon for strong expressions, but that she knows very well I am not a refined character. Whoever expects refinement in me will be disappointed. I hadn't a refined bringing up." The understatement here is that Bounderby should ask for pardon but he does not because he is merely behaving as ought to be expected. It is interesting that Bounderby is not a target for education and that despite his lack of education he is somehow acceptable (this is because he is rich). On the other hand, how necessary is an educational system so heavily dependent on the "Protestant Work Ethic" when its model pupils are wayward and those who most need conversion (Cecilia Jupe) are mildly persecuted? Louisa's languished looks out of the window and the description of two other children "out at lecture in custody," complete our understanding of the educational environment as an ogre's prison-cave.

Chapter Five: The Key-Note

In this short chapter, Mr. Bounderby and Mr. Gradgrind proceed towards Coketown, a town which is a "triumph of fact." It is mostly made of red brick and it is heavily industrialized. Smoke hangs in the air, the water is polluted with "ill-smelling dye" and pistons and steam-engines cause the windows of the buildings to rattle all day long. The streets are monotonous and the people are hardly different from one another, each performing pretty much the same job in the same factory, and the work that they do is little different from one day to the next.

The only things to be seen in Coketown were "severely workful." There were eighteen chapels in the town, representing eighteen religious persuasions but the workers were not among these congregations. The churches are little different in appearance from the jail, the infirmary and the town-hall. Every building is a testament to "fact." There is an organization in Coketown composed to deal with the irreligious nature of the laboring classes and they often petition Parliament for acts that would "make these people religious by main force." Besides this truancy, alcoholism and opium were other vices rampant in Coketown. Plenty of specimen testified that had it not been for the drink they "would have been a tip-top moral specimen."

As they pass through Coketown, Messrs. Bounderby and Gradgrind consider the town residents to be a "bad lot" who are ungrateful, demanding, excessive in tastes and diet, languid in work ethic. The actual picture is not so simple as a town full of vice. Dickens suggests that the residents of Coketown were simply in need of good humor and some sort of diversion after the endless misery of their occupations. Bounderby and Gradgrind are looking for an address called Pod's End and as they continue along their path, they run into Girl number twenty, who is being chased by Bitzer. Bitzer accuses the girl of being a horse-rider and a liar as well. Bounderby sees this as evidence of her contagious spread.

Sissy Jupe leads the two gentleman to the decrepit place where she lives. They see here carrying a bottle and question if it is gin, but she replies that it is "the nine oils" that her father has requested as an ointment because he is sore from his performances. Sissy tries to be as polite as possible and just before entering the "public house" she warns the two gentlemen not to fear barking that they may hear as it is only the small dog, called Merrylegs.

Analysis:

This chapter is a narrative interlude that spaces out the dramatic action at hand. In striking the "key-note," Dickens takes note of the physical setting and spends time describing Coketown more than he had previously done. The overriding archetype is hell: Hell is seen in the darkened canal that is an allusion to the River Styx. The coiled serpents are another symbol of sin and immorality. The images of the savage painted faces parallel the image of the dyed water. And the elephant is an odd juxtaposition of mechanics and nature: little surprise that he represents a "melancholy madness."

One of Dickens' primary rhetorical devices here is his exhortation to the reader, that they might reject the hasty condemnations made by the likes of Messrs. Gradgrind and Bounderby. From Dickens' legal background we might suggest that he is presenting the case for the people of Coketown, left without adequate legal or popular counsel. Here, a Latin term "amicus curiae" ("friend of the court") would be the most precise way to describe Dickens' moralizing tone in this short chapter. Dickens was not alone in arguing that the conditions of workers in cities like Coketown (or rather, Manchester) were inhumane and ought to be regulated more closely. This opening chapter foreshadows many of the class-oriented issues that the characters will have to grapple with.

Chapter Six: Sleary's Horsemanship

Sissy Jupe lives in a public house called Pegasus's Arms and this is where she leads the two men. The inscription at the entrance suggests that the public house is a place where alcoholics congregate and Mr. Bounderby and Mr. Gradgrind are clearly out of their element. The decorations of the public house are theatrical and the joviality of the scene is all the more clear when Merrylegs appears. Sissy is surprised to find that her father is not in the room that they share. He had sent her on an errand to retrieve the "nine oils" as an ointment for his pain. Looking through the room, Sissy finds that the trunk is empty and she is suddenly fearful.

The other members of the performing group also live in the public house and they try to explain to Sissy that her father has abandoned her. He has not left out of ill will, but because he thinks that she will have a better life without him as her guardian. It was with this intention that he had her enrolled in Mr. Gradgrind's school. Mr. Bounderby is morally enraged that a man would actually desert his own daughter. She has no other family in the world. One of the members of the group, E. W. B. Childers, does his best to defend Signor Jupe's honor. Jupe's honest intention was to give his daughter a better life and while he wanted to stay with her, he did not believe that he was anything more than a hindrance.

This certainly changes Mr. Gradgrind's plans‹as he had originally come to the public house with the intention of dismissing Jupe from the school. Despite Bounderby's opinion, Gradgrind does not think it is in good taste to abandon Sissy after she has already been abandoned. Gradgrind gives her a choice to make on the spot: either she can stay with the Sleary performing group, remain in Pegasus's Arms and never return to his school, or she can leave Sleary's company, live with the Gradgrinds and attend school. If she chooses this option, of course, she is forbidden to have extended contact with the performers‹though they are the only people that she knows.

It is a difficult decision for Sissy to make but at the urging of Josephine Sleary, Sissy chooses to leave Pegasus's Arms and join the Gradgrinds. While the performing group mourns Sissy's loss, they are also joyful and they remind her that even though this is a harsh moment, life will be better for her. Sissy is losing a family and also a future vocation (as a performer) but when she remembers her father's wishes, Sissy sees that it is right for her to join the Gradgrinds‹if only for the sake of obeying her father in absentia. Sissy becomes very emotional and Josephine comforts the crying child. While Bounderby is short on patience, Mr. Gradgrind is not emotional, but he is not without pity. Even though he knows that Signor Jupe is never coming back to find Sissy, he indulges her child-like faith and allows her to carry the bottle of nine oils with her. The leader of the performing group tells Sissy that the bottle is heavy to carry and will be of little use to her. But Cecilia is convinced that her father will return to find her and that when he comes for her, he will want the bottle (She is not even convinced that he has deliberately left her‹though all facts suggest this is the case).

Analysis

Both the dog, Merrylegs, and the name of the public-house‹Pegasus's Arms‹are symbols of the "fancy" that Sleary's company offers, in contrast to the world of hard facts and figures. The additional cast includes a "Centaur" and a "cupid" which are also allusions to the same Greek mythologies that spawned the "Pegasus." It is certainly ironic that Bounderby, a man who has claimed to have been abandoned in his youth, would now be the advocate of Sissy's rejection and abandonment. His hypocrisy is certainly one of the main targets of Dickens's social commentary.

Mr. Sleary is one of Dickens's caricatures. His loose eye and his lisp make him appear as ridiculous as circus performer might be expected to be. Still, he does have a few words of wisdom to offer and especially later on in the novel, Mr. Sleary is an archetypal fool who is actually wise.

Chapter Seven: Mrs. Sparsit

Mrs. Sparsit is the housekeeper for Mr. Bounderby‹as he is a bachelor and in need of someone to keep his house tidy. Mr. Bounderby especially relishes the arrangement because Mrs. Sparsit was once a "highly connected" lady and she had seen better days. But she had fallen on "hard times" after marrying young and being widowed by a man who left her only debts and little fortune to rely upon. Bounderby's boasting often dwelled upon the difference between their stories‹for he was low-born and moved himself up in society and she was high-born and now she is his housekeeper.

Mrs. Sparsit is a very good housekeeper and in spite of Bounderby's often uncivilized manner, she always retains the graces that befit a lady of her standing. Bounderby discusses both Louisa and Cecilia Jupe and it is clear to see that he is very interested in Louisa but not at all amused by the idea of the Gradgrinds "bringing up the tumbling-girl." There is the hope that Cecilia might be a good influence on Louisa‹by providing her with a perfect example of all that can go wrong when one is not rooted in a disciplined upbringing. Bounderby thinks that if anything, Cecilia will corrupt Louisa.

Concerning young Tom Gradgrind, Mr. Bounderby decides that at some point in the near future, after the young man has further progressed in his studies, he will make a job for him at the bank. When Mrs. Sparsit attempts to interpose an opinion, Bounderby reminds her that she knows very little about these subjects because she has grown up in "devilish high society" though she has done very well at accommodating herself to the changes life has dealt her. Cecilia and Gradgrind are both present and Gradgrind overlooks Cecilia's social awkwardness and makes his final decision to bring the girl into his household. He announces that she will be "reclaimed and formed" and that her previous education‹reading stories about fairies, dwarves and hunchbacks‹has come to an end.

Analysis:

Characterization is very important in this chapter, which center on the character for whom it is named. Mrs. Sparsit's name can be read as a combination of the words "sparse" and "sit." Throughout the novel, the reader will find that Sparsit is almost always described in terms of her posture (and she is usually sitting). Her character and her history are riddled with contradictions and contrasts. There is, for example, the irony of her husband dying of alcoholism ("brandy") in the midst of French decadence (the port city of Calais). And yet, Sparsit is to be considered as a moral example and as for power, she is both a "conqueror" and a "princess."

Bounderby is described with various symbols of his own power; chief among them are his portrait and his bank documents. The portrait is an especially interesting symbol as it is a likeness of Bounderby and is also an artistic image. Why should Bounderby be so interested in an artistic rendering of himself? Perhaps it is because the portrait is not an element of fancy, but is an extremely accurate representation. It is, essentially, a second Bounderby.

Finally, there are a few instances of hyperbole in this chapter, as seen in much of Gradgrind and Bounderby's dialogue about Cecilia Jupe. The reference to Fairies, Dwarves and the Hunchback as "destructive nonsense" is a little extreme. But this hard line of reasoning does situate Jupe's experience within the themes of education and conversion. It is interesting to note that Cecilia is to be "reclaimed and formed" both intellectually and morally.

Chapter Eight: Never Wonder

This short chapter is another one of Dickens' interludes: "Let us strike the key-note again, before pursuing the tune." About six years previous, Louisa was overheard using the phrase "I wonderŠ." And her father forbade her from wondering. Between Mr. Gradgrind and Mr. M'Choakumchild all of the youthful impulses to wonder have been notably suppressed. The children born in Coketown are "unlucky infants" and all of the social bodies agree on the single point that these children are never to learn how to "wonder." Instead they are to focus on "trust" and "political economy."

The town library was sometimes the source of Gradgrind's dismay‹when readers opted for literature rather than geometry and drama instead of statistics. This sort of existence has become unbearable for the young Gradgrinds. Tom tells his sister: "I am sick of my life, Loo. I hate it altogether." He and Louisa are both sulking in their room and Tom insists that Louisa is the only person in his life who is capable of making him happy. Everyone else has fallen under the sway of dullness but Louisa has managed to keep a spark of the interesting alive.

Louisa looks at the shadows on the wall and she looks into the fire and she is able to almost spin stories out of what she sees. Thomas cannot see what she does, but he does listen to the things that she says while she looks into the fire. Looking into the fire causes Louisa to wonder. And when Thomas notes her admission, Louisa replies that she has always had "unmanageable thoughts." Mrs. Gradgrind has been listening at the door and she re-iterates the warning issued six years previous. Louisa is not to wonder and Thomas is not to encourage his sister to do something he knows will worry her father. Louisa has angered and disturbed Mrs. Gradgrind to the point where she says: "I really do wish that I had never had a family, and then you would have known what it was to do without me!"

Analysis:

Chapter Eight is more important within Dickens' philosophical context than in the actual "story" that is being presented in the novel. Certainly, the characters are affected by the course of events, but when Dickens writes of returning to the "key-note" this is a hint that he is returning to look at the major themes and contrasts that have been presented thus far. In a sense, it is a summary of the major ideas in conflict. An example of this conflict can be seen in the library; ironically, Gradgrind does not approve of the establishment. Dickens develops this point by contrasting "Defoe" versus "Euclid" and "Goldsmith" versus "Cocker." These references basically reiterate the fact that Gradgrind does not like literature (Daniel Defoe is the author of such classic fictional works as Robinson Crusoe and [?]Goldsmith is a famous British playwright. Euclid, on the other hand, is an ancient Greek who basically invented geometry and [?]Cocker is [?]).

The battle between the literary agents of "fancy" and the hard mathematical analysts can be seen again in Dickens' archetypal use of fire imagery to convey the sense of the storyteller (in this case, Louisa Gradgrind‹but also, in a larger sense, Dickens, no?) as a somewhat magical, more modern version of the ancient oracles. In Greek myth, oracles were ordained priest-like figures who were usually female and known for looking into the fire and "reading the signs." Incidentally, this scene of a sister reading the fire to her younger brother is repeated in another one of Dickens' novels, Our Mutual Friend. The fire can be a symbol of the hearth, of familial warmth and love between siblings but we find here is that this warmth is largely frustrated.

The contrast to Fancy and imagination comes with the lingering cold, despite the fire. In a metaphorical sense, we can describe the Gradgrinds' family life as very cold and lacking in emotion. An important distinction can be made between coldness and hate, indifference and dislike. The parents neither hate nor dislike their children, but they are emotionally cold, indifferent and distant. In opposition to emotion and "wonder," they prefer science. We see mechanical imagery in the way that Louisa and Tom describe their emotions (as a coiled "spring," for example) and in the lack of freedom and repression of emotions. In a way, repressing ones true emotions, feelings and desires is a form of dishonesty and this chapter foreshadows later scenes in the novel, where Louisa's repression becomes a matter of loyalty and fidelity (a key theme of the novel).

Chapter Nine: Sissy's Progress

Sissy did not have an easy time of things and she continually considered running away. The belief that her father would be unable to find her was the only thing that kept her in Gradgrind's custody. Gradgrind has some pity for the girl, mainly because he questions whether any amount of education will undo the damage that has been done. Sissy tells Louisa that she is luck to have been so trained at an early age, but Louisa replies that she is not necessarily the better for it. Sissy is able to help Mrs. Gradgrind with tasks and chores and she is able to keep Louisa in a cheery mood but mistakes "seem to come natural" to her when she is in the classroom.

When Mr. M'Choakumchild is teaching National Prosperity, Proportions and Statistics, Sissy always answers incorrectly. Her responses are based more on compassion that on calculation. Louisa asks Sissy about what her life was like before and she learns that the girl's mother died when she was very young. Talking about her father, Sissy admits that he has left her‹but he has left her for her own good. He traveled as a clown but as he got older his skills weakened. Sissy worries that it was partly in embarrassment that her father left her‹and the traveling company as well.

Sissy remembers that her father loved when she would read stories to him, though these same stories she is forbidden to speak of in the Gradgrind's house. Sissy begins crying, while she is telling these stories to Louisa. Their conversation is interrupted when young Tom enters the room and announces that Bounderby has arrived, and that if Louisa will make an appearance than Bounderby will take Tom out to dinner. Sissy often asks if her father has sent her any letters but none have arrived. Again, Mr. Gradgrind is dismayed by Sissy's slow learning.

Analysis:

The characterization of Cecilia Jupe as a student who is trying to make "progress" in her relations with the Gradgrinds relies upon an allusion to the epic, Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan. As this work is about a very devout character (named Christian) who tries to get to Heaven (called the Celestial City) and avoid sin (in such places as the Slough of Despond), you could say that Dickens' use of this "Progress" is intended as irony. The reference to Bunyan's work might not be obvious but once it is pointed out, the reader should consider the different types of "progress" that might exist. Dickens lived during the great "Industrial Revolution" of Great Britain and the Gradgrinds are certainly part of this revolution. Still, Dickens suggests that this economic and scientific progress should be matched with moral and artistic progress.

Without being as religiously explicit as Bunyan, Dickens tries to show that Cecilia has made moral progress in a way that the Gradgrinds have not. For example, there is the metaphor of Mr. Gradgrind's eye as a "wintry piece of fact." It is hard and dead (the archetype of winter) but Cecilia can make progress, and can grow for she is attached to images of spring, youth and life. As one of the major themes in the novel focuses on education and conversion, we might ask ourselves what the Gradgrinds (especially Louisa) could learn from Sissy and how this progress might make their lives better. Dickens contrasts Sissy's concern for others with "political economy"‹an academic subject that should answer questions in order to take care of a society and its citizens.

One of Dickens' literary qualities that does not appeal to modern readers is his overly sentimental treatment of certain characters. Hopefully, the sentimentality does not significantly obscure some of the subtle points that Dickens is making when he seems to making the same point over and over again. There are many ways in which Sissy is a contrast to the Gradgrinds, but there is the hidden detail of her father being a circus clown, basically, yet being a better father than Mr. Gradgrind. Later on in the novel, Dickens will again use the stock character of the fool in order to show true wisdom. The constant battle between "Fancy" and "Fact" is complicated by the varying degrees of honesty, truthfulness and accuracy. While Mr. Gradgrind always insists on "Fact" and we can assume Dickens to prefer "Fancy," Dickens does try to show that the preference for one or the other is a matter of choice and opinion. Regardless of which is better, both are necessary and life is miserable without the both. In terms of social commentary, Sissy's sobbing over being denied the stories she loves ("the wrong books") is an example of censorship, and yet another example of the themes of surveillance and watching that fascinate Dickens.

Chapter Ten: Stephen Blackpool

The story turns to the workers of Coketown, a group of laborers known as "the Hands." Among them lived a decent man named Stephen Blackpool. He is forty but he looks much older and has had a hard life. In fact, those who know him have nicknamed him "Old Stephen." Stephen has very little as far as intelligence or social graces and he is very simply defined as "good power-loom weaver, and a man of perfect integrity." After his long hours in the factory, once the lights and bells are shut down, he looks for his friend Rachael. On this night, he cannot find her but just when he is convinced that he has missed her, she appears.

Rachael is also a laborer, she is thirty-five years old and she is a gentle, caring person. They have been friends for many years and Stephen takes consolation in this. Whenever his life seems unbearable, Stephen knows that Rachael will make him feel better. She repeatedly advises him that when life is as unpleasant as theirs, it is better not to think about it at all. They walk together towards the part of town where they both live. Here, the houses are extremely small and dirty. Stephen does not even live in a house‹he lives in a small room above a shop. He tries best to keep things as orderly as possible and he is always courteous in regards to the woman who rents the small room to him.

It seems that this night is full of bad luck for Stephen. He enters his room and he stumbles against a wretched figure that frightens him. A drunk and disabled woman is in his room and she is apparently someone that he knows. As the chapter ends, she laughs at Stephen scornfully. She has returned from some part of the past to ruin his life and give him even more to worry about. She passes out in a drunken stupor and Stephen is left to his misery.

Analysis:

Dickens' portrayal of Stephen Blackpool is a form of characterization that basically equates the figure and the scene. Stephen is the personification of his town and the symbol of the downtrodden working-class. The name "blackpool" relies upon basic negative imagery to suggest Stephen's dim prospects. This is entirely true and unwavering: only bad things happen to Stephen even though he remains an incredibly virtuous person throughout his adversity. Both Stephen and Rachel fit into Dickens' sentimental depiction of the working-class as more decent and morally fit than their alleged superiors. The drunken woman at the end of the chapter is a reminder of reality, that not all poor people are also decent.

The city is described using the imagery of a hell-like place. It is confusing, ugly and full of smoke. In one passage, the description of the scene contains an allusion to the "Labyrinth" of Greek mythology‹a maze in which a vengeful monster (called the Minotaur) lived. Coketown is a labyrinth in that it is maze-like; each building and street identically resembles the squalor and misery found in all of the other poor-houses and alleys. There is the irony of the factories being described as "Fairy palaces" featuring bells, an elephant and a serpent. Not only are the factories instances of fact versus fancy (and fairies) but there is nothing innocent nor anything harmless about these "Fairy palaces." The "titanic shadows," the serpent and the threatening words of the drunken woman complete the symbolism of looming threatening danger. In drunkenness, just as in a maze, everything looks the same and everything is unclear.

Chapter Eleven: No Way Out

The next day, Stephen Blackpool is back at work, bent over his loom. He is depressed about the woman who has appeared in his room but he does not let this get in the way of his work. His work began early in the morning when it was still dark outside but as it grows later, the lights are shut off and it begins to rain outside. When Blackpool has his lunch break he takes his piece of bread and walks towards Mr. Bounderby's house to seek some advice. Bounderby is the owner of the factory. Stephen finds Bounderby at lunch eating a lavish meal and Mrs. Sparsit was sitting in the room as well, but she did not eat lunch by habit.

Bounderby asks Stephen what his problem is, noting that as an employer he is glad to say that he has never had any problem with Stephen. Unlike many of the other workers, Stephen isn't looking for luxuries like "turtle soup and venison." Bounderby is pleasantly surprised when Stephen confirms that he has not arrived to make a complaint. He only wants advice. With permission, Stephen begins his story.

The woman who apprehended Stephen the night before was the same woman that he married nineteen years previous. He was very good to her, but she became a drunkard and sold the furniture and refused to work. After some time, she disappeared and no one heard anything from her. As a decent gesture, Stephen looked for a way to provide for her without being attached to her lifestyle. For the previous five years, he paid her money to stay away from him and it worked until now. Bounderby does not have very much advice though he does agree that Blackpool is in a very bad situation. Stephen wants to know how he might be rid of the woman and Bounderby and Mrs. Sparsit are both offended.

Stephen would much rather be with Rachael but what he learns from Bounderby is that any sort of annulment or divorce or separation from the drunk woman is going to cost a good deal of money‹far more than Stephen will ever have. Bounderby goes further to express his disappointment in Stephen's "unhallowed opinions" and the fact that he would air them in front of a decent lady like Mrs. Sparsit. Stephen does not linger at the scene; he thanks Bounderby for his time and exits.

Analysis

The narrative structure of the novel often uses various chapters as parallels or as cause-and-effect sequences. In this case, "No Way Out" might be compared to "A Loophole" in the same way that we can contrast the lack of freedom suffered by the poor (Stephen) and by children (Tom and Louisa Gradgrind). It is also worth noting that for all of Mrs. Sparsit's hypocrisy, she parallels Stephen Blackpool as the spouse of a drunk (her husband died of alcoholism in France). Finally, on the subject of marriage, Stephen's fate foreshadows Bounderby's marriage (presented at the end of Book One) and by the end of the novel, Bounderby will find himself in a similarly awkward situation.

The tone of this chapter is incredibly negative in regards to Sparsit and Bounderby. While they weren't the favorite characters before this point, Dickens' characterization is really a social commentary on class conflict and the difference between the lives of the rich and the poor. While Sparsit is described as a "fallen lady," there are more intense images of verticality in the lives of the poor: the serpent, the rising smoke, Lucifer the fallen angel and the grim, black ladders attached to each house. Each of these images becomes an explicit symbol of how easy it is for the poor to fall farther into the dumps. On the one hand we have Blackpool whose steady fall throughout the novel is simply on account of his already being down and having no other direction in which to travel. On the other hand, characters like Bounderby and Sparsit will also suffer their own social "falls" but it will be on account of their hubris, excessive pride.

Chapter Twelve: The Old Woman

When Stephen leaves Mr. Bounderby's house he is greeted by an old woman who is very clearly come from the country on a journey. Stephen is at first distrustful of her but he remains polite despite the disappointment of the last two days. The lady asks Stephen if she has seen him exit "that gentleman's house" and Stephen answers that she has. She describes Bounderby and asks if this is the man Stephen has seen. When Stephen answers her in the affirmative, she thanks him warmly.

She continues walking with Stephen and it seems that the very aspects of Coketown that make life all the harder for the residents are the very monstrosities and large attractions that she finds exciting. She has walked nine miles to arrive in town and this is a trip that she makes once a year. This only adds to her mystery and Stephen is puzzled by her insistence that she comes to town each year so that she might see the gentlemen. She is specifically interested in seeing Mr. Bounderby and she hopes that she will be so lucky though this seems doubtful.

Stephen tells the woman that he works in the factory and when she asks him if he is happy he replies that everybody has their troubles. She has expected that he would say he was very happy‹for he is living in the town and not in the country‹and Stephen does not want to disappoint her, though he cannot lie and feign happiness. Stephen does say that his troubles are at home and that they do not follow him to the factory where, under Bounderby, everything is regular and orderly. When Stephen tells the old lady that he has been a continuous worker at the loom for twelve years, she exclaims her pride in him and insists upon kissing him: "I must kiss the hand that has worked in this fine factory for a dozen year." It is clear at this point, that the old lady is a little eccentric but she certainly means no harm and Stephen, being a decent man himself., obliges her as best he can.

Though they part ways when they finally approach the factory and Stephen must return to work. Back at his loom, Stephen is in awe of the old woman and the "harmony" that surrounds her. In the midst of the loud noises and the smoke of the factory, Stephen's thoughts easily fall into a negative slump. At the end of his work-shift, he looks for Rachael but he does not see her. He remembers when they were both young and it is obvious that they would have been far happier together than they have been, separate. Stephen does not want to return to his home; he does not know what he will find there. But in the end, "he went home for shelter."

Analysis:

The old woman character is one of Dickens' specialties, appearing in more than a few of his novels. As in the others, she is a woman from the country who is on a pilgrimage, which is usually a religious trip. In spite of her mystery, her kiss upon Stephen's hand is a symbolic blessing. There is a simple contrast between the country woman and the city men that excite her. Her connection to Bounderby is not yet known, but it is very important and will be easy to guess well before it is revealed. It is ironic that she considers the men of high standing to be "gentlemen" when we have learned that they are anything but gentle, but the pilgrim demonstrates that she can see past appearances by finding the value in Stephen Blackpool.

The suspense of the chapter is mainly fueled by questions of the woman's identity and how she is able to know Bounderby so well as to describe him as "portly, bold, outspoken and hearty." Again, the theme of surveillance is established, for the lady has only come to town to deliberately watch strangers. Nonetheless, her honesty and the fact that she does sneak up and spy on others are all reassuring.

Chapter Thirteen: Rachael

There is a candle burning in the window of Stephen's room. While Stephen sits he thinks to himself about the larger philosophical questions and mysteries of life and death‹not in an academic way, but in terms of application to his own life. He thinks of all of the people who die despite the fact that they loved others dearly and are dearly missed. In contrast to them all, his drunk wife is loved by no one and loves no one‹yet she lives and survives her own undoing to cause pain to others.

Stephen and his wife are not alone for Rachael is also in the room, tending to the drunken woman. The woman is not in a very good state and Rachael is glad that Stephen has finally come home. A doctor had been by earlier and Rachael reminds Stephen that they all have an obligation not to judge the woman because they are all sinners. Stephen repeats that he is grateful that Rachael is there because he cannot guarantee that he would be able to overcome his desire to do harm to himself and/or his wife. Both Rachael and Stephen are half asleep and Rachael agrees that she will stay with Stephen until three in the morning. Then she will return home.

Stephen sees a bottle on the table; it is mostly empty but it causes him to tremble. Rachael sees that he is in a fit of trembling and she moves to see that he is not feeling too ill. Stephen assures her that he is simply having a fright and that he will soon be better. As he falls asleep, Stephen enters into a "long, troubled dream" that continually blurs with the sad reality surrounding him. He sees himself at his own wedding, happily preparing to marry, except the woman is not Rachael and there is a protest started by one of the witnesses of the wedding. In his half-asleep state, Stephen sees his wife make a move for the bottle on the table but Rachael wakes up in the nick of time. There is a struggle and the drunk woman grabs Rachael by the hair, but Rachael overpowers her and destroys the bottle. Stephen is convinced that Rachael is an angel but she insists that she is not. Still, she is definitely a benevolent force in Stephen's life.

Analysis:

The most important symbol in the chapter is the candle that represents Rachel's presence in Stephen's room and in his life. As a candle, Rachel brings light (clarity and understanding), warmth (love) and constancy (permanent devotion). Along with Sissy Jupe, she is part of the motif of young women who have maternal, caring qualities because they are poor and live hard lives. This is part of Dickens' trademark sentimentality but it is serious enough to establish the contrast between Rachel's candle and the black ladder that is an image of death.

Death is one of the focuses of the chapter, with Stephen's wife only barely recovering from what was almost her deathbed. In a metaphor, death is reduced to the operations of chance and fate in a card game: it "dealt out an unequal hand." Stephen's unequal hand is in the fact of his living-death. He is trapped in between sleep and being awake. Even worse, he can find "now way out" of his present situation in either of these conditions. Alcohol and dreams are both symbolic escapes, but in this case, the alcoholism of the wife has dried out the dreams of the husband.

Chapter Fourteen: The Great Manufacturer

Time goes on in Coketown and Mr. Gradgrind notes that as the months and years go by, his children are growing into young adults. He decides that his son, Thomas, should join Bounderby's Bank and find work. Gradgrind has kept up his education of Sissy, but he ultimately concludes that any further education would be useless. She has learned all that she is capable of learning and this has not been very much. Sissy is in agreement and she is sorry that she has disappointed Mr. Gradgrind. She begins to cry, but Mr. Gradgrind consoles her by complimenting her: she is "affectionate, earnest, good" and this will have to be good enough. She is very useful to Mrs. Gradgrind and she keeps the family in better spirits than otherwise and so she can remain a part of the household.

Gradgrind is disappointed that Sissy still clings to the bottle of nine oils and while he does not have contempt for her ignorance, he does admit to himself that he does not know precisely how to categorize Sissy. His thoughts are mostly focussed on Louisa. He finds her one evening and informs her that he would like to have a serious conversation with her in the morning. A bit later, Tom comes into the room and asks Louisa if she knows what the conversation is going to be about. Tom informs her that their father is in talks with Mr. Bounderby though the subject is still undisclosed. Tom wins Louisa's unsuspecting assurance that she will do whatever she can to help him. He then leaves her to her solitude, meeting up with his friends.

Analysis:

This chapter is the foreshadowing of Louisa's marriage to Mr. Bounderby. Obviously, this is a disappointing union of contrasts. Louisa is young while he is old and her desires for freedom are going to remain suppressed in his house. Symbolically, the presence of a wilderness as opposed to the cycle of seasons reflects the lack of fertility and the end of growth for Louisa. From her youth, she threatens to become a bitter old woman. At the very least, her marriage is heavily foreshadowed as a failure.

Tom calls his sister a "capital girl" and this is a reiteration of the imagery of economics applied to emotional and human subjects. Louisa is "capital" because her marriage presents the potential for profit. Similarly, the children's education at the "Mill" and the "Bank" of learning, transforms them into products and economic laborers. Finally, there is the irony of the old woman who is a spinner of Time. She is the archetype of the Fates offering a lifetime as a thread to be cut. But in contrast, Bounderby has a weaving factory in which Stephen Blackpool is a skilled power-loom weaver. The motif of weaving operates on yet another level when Dickens compares nature's weaving (creation) of Stephen Blackpool (a human being) as superior to the mere spinning and weaving of the goods that Bounderby sells.

Chapter Fifteen: Father and Daughter

Mr. Gradgrind sits in his room which is designed very much like an Observatory. He has spent many ours in this space contemplating and studying human habits and destinies. He prepares to have his serious discussion with Louisa, who insists upon remaining dispassionate throughout the entire encounter. Gradgrind tells his daughter that she is the subject of a marriage proposal‹and Louisa does not respond. Gradgrind expects Louisa to convey some emotion, but she is entirely stoic and reminds Gradgrind that her upbringing has prevented her from knowing what emotions to express.

Gradgrind explains that it is Mr. Bounderby who has made the marriage proposal and Louisa refrains from registering any emotional response. When her father asks her what she intends to do, Louisa turns the question back to him and asks him what he thinks she ought to do. Gradgrind looks at the situation analytically and dismisses the fact of Bounderby being fifty years old. The marriage has little to do with love and is simply a matter of "tangible Fact." In the end, the decision is for Louisa to make. But as she does not see that any opportunity will bring her happiness she realizes that it does not matter what she does. She continually repeats the phrase "what does it matter?" and this frustrates Mr. Gradgrind.

In the end, Louisa is still emotionless and she replies: "I am satisfied to accept his proposal." Mr. Gradgrind is very pleased and he kisses his daughter on the forehead. When Mrs. Gradgrind hears the news she is happy but then she works herself into a fit and soon passes out. Sissy Jupe is present and she is, perhaps, the only one who is able to sense the difference in Louisa. Louisa keeps herself at a distance and is "impassive, proud and cold." Sissy feels a mixture of wonder, pity and sorrow for Louisa.

Analysis:

The reference to Bluebeard and Mr. Gradgrind's office room being full of "bluebooks" is a combination of irony and allusion. At the very least, the very mention of Bluebeard, a villain from a child's fairy tale story, foreshadows the marriage drama that unfolds and it is a reminder of the war against "fancy" and "imagination" that the Gradgrinds have embarked upon. Bluebeard was a dreadful knight who promised a wonderful life to each of his wives until their curiosity overcame them and they were encouraged to search through a hidden closet in the back of his castle‹a closet that contained the dead bodies of his former wives. Surely this is not a good harbinger for Louisa's upcoming marriage.

Mr. Gradgrind is a bit of an ogre. Certainly, he and Bounderby have had Louisa under heavy surveillance and observation for some time. Gradgrind's office is as symbolic an observatory as it is a literal one. The characterization of Louisa reflects the power and politics between Mr. Gradgrind and Mr. Bounderby. She becomes a debased human being in a way, the mere "subject of a proposal." She is weakened but in a reversal, she is the one who stands "impassive, proud, cold" and is above all. The father is beaten at his own game of stoicism and if anything, this chapter marks the beginning of the blindness motif that will come to identify Mr. Gradgrind and his inability to understand the human soul.

Chapter Sixteen: Husband and Wife

The concluding chapter of Book One unites Louisa Gradgrind and Mr. Josiah Bounderby in marriage. Bounderby's first task before the marriage was to inform Mrs. Sparsit. She is offered the option of continuing in the household but she decides that such an arrangement would be improper and Bounderby makes finer arrangements for her elsewhere. He expected that Mrs. Sparsit would be overcome by shock and might pass out but she is hardly surprised and in fact, there is a hint of condescension in her tone. Bounderby assures her that her new position elsewhere will not result in a further fall in societal position.

The eight weeks between the proposal and the wedding are hardly romantic and are entirely fact-based. It is more of a business transaction than anything else. The wedding ceremony is adequately dry and Bounderby makes a long-winded speech. He is very honored to be married to the daughter of as fine a man as Mr. Gradgrind, who is after all, a member of Parliament. He offers best wishes that every man may find a wife as good as his and that every woman may find a husband as good as him. After the wedding, the Bounderbys are due for a honeymoon in "Lyons." Tom sees his sister off and in his happiness‹for his position at the bank is certainly secured now‹he is unable to detect her disappointment.

Analysis:

If this chapter confirms what we have learned from the stories of Mrs. Sparsit and also Stephen Blackpool it is an argument of social commentary: the politics of the social scale are mediated more by marriage than by any other one thing. This also presents an interesting contrast between Mrs. Sparsit and Mr. Bounderby. Her fake show of sympathy foreshadows the eventual unhappiness of the marriage. Who exactly is the "victim?" As Book I ends, we are left to compare the "jolly" state of Bounderby and the more "desperate" condition of Blackpool.

Book II

Chapter One: Effects in the Bank

Book II continues about a year after the Bounderby marriage. Coketown is little different and the life of the poor is as hard as it was before. Nonetheless, Mr. Bounderby is convinced that the poor are after a "gold spoon and turtle soup" and luxury living. It is summer and the town is especially hot. Mrs. Sparsit sits upstairs in the Bank where she has been relocated and this is where she holds court with Bitzer, Bounderby's trusty assistant. Bitzer informs Mrs. Sparsit of the common laborers and their lack of values and their inability to save money and improve upon their condition. They both agree that the morals of the poor are wanting. The relationship between Bitzer and Mrs. Sparsit is very much like a relationship between a spy and his employer.

Their gossipy conversation is interrupted by the arrival of a stranger at the door. Mrs. Sparsit consents to see him mainly because she is curious as to who this is. The stranger is a very charming and elegantly dressed gentleman and he shares Mrs. Sparsit's class sympathies. After trading their casual observations on life, the two settle down to conversation and discuss the business at hand. The stranger is to see Mr. Bounderby‹he has a letter of introduction that has come from Mr. Gradgrind. The stranger became acquainted with Mr. Gradgrind in London but this is his first time in Coketown and he is somewhat disgusted with the town.

He is however, very eager to eat Louisa and he is astonished to learn that Mr. Bounderby has married her‹as he is a good three decades older than she is. Mrs. Sparsit assures the stranger that Louisa is not at all the hardened and unattractive academic that he has in mind. Later in the night, Mrs. Sparsit is thinking to herself and she exclaims: "O, you Fool!" but it is unclear precisely whom she means.

Analysis

The tone is wrought with sarcasm. Dickens uses the word Œwonder' as irony because there is little wonder to be had in Coketown. The "evil eye" glaring over Coketown is as intense a foreshadowing of Bounderby's unraveling as any other image in the novel. The shroud is a symbol of death and dying, decay and destruction.

The metaphor of Babel refers to the Tower of Babel. This is an allusion to an Old Testament story that explains that the excessive pride of humans will eventually topple their enterprises. The image of hell and punishment is reinforced by the very sharp description of the city's climate as "frying in oil."

The use of the word "aspiring" is a pun that refers both to the upward motion of the smoke and the upward yearnings of the poor‹if only the fortunes of the poor rose as easily as the smoke of the factory. A metaphor is employed when the fragility of the townspeople is understood by their being like "weak china."

In characterizing Mrs. Sparsit, Dickens takes her posture (always sitting and watching) and makes her into an equivalent of the Fates, much like Madame deFarge, a famous character from his novel A Tale of Two Cities. The scenes that revolve around Mrs. Sparsit are all about the trappings of social class and position and in these moments, even the tables are personified as having their "legs in an attitude."

Against the cliffhanger that centers on yet another new stranger's mysterious identity, Dickens offers some social commentary on the upper class conceptions of knowledge and education. In sharp contrast to the Gradgrinds, Mrs. Sparsit takes her lack of knowledge as a fashionable symptom of her simple virtue. Even as it makes little sense for lack of knowledge to be rewarded we also see that Sparsit is eager to gain information about the people around her. This interest in others affairs will eventually prove to be Sparsit's undoing.

Chapter Two: Mr. James Harthouse

Mr. Gradgrind is hiring the stranger, Mr. James Harthouse, as an instructor in his school. He will be one of many who are trained in logic and statistics and eager to help relieve children of their imaginations. James Harthouse is the younger brother of a member of Parliament and as he has become an adult, he has failed to find a vocation or even a steady hobby to fill his hours. After trying several other things, Harthouse decided that he might as well give statistics a try and so he had himself coached and instructed in various philosophies. He was a success in London and his older brother easily passed him off to Mr. Gradgrind as a suitable educator. Gradgrind sent James (nicknamed "Jem") down from London to Coketown to get to meet the important men in town‹Mr. Bounderby chief among them.

By the time Bounderby arrives at Harthouse's hotel room, the young man is almost about to quit his new job and "go in" for another. Bounderby is very different from the very suave and collected younger man. He tells James the stories of his young years on the street and the myth of his self-improvement. He asserts that he is not, unlike Harthouse, a gentleman and it makes little sense for Harthouse to expect Bounderby to have any manners. Harthouse pretends to be incredibly amused and interested in Bounderby's stories but he actually finds the man incredibly dreadful and boring.

At Bounderby's mansion, Harthouse meets Louisa and he finds her very attractive but very hard to understand. She is extremely guarded and reserved and he is unsure that his ideas and his rhetorical display are impressing her the way that they have impressed everyone else. In his observations, Harthouse notices that Louisa's ungrateful younger brother, Tom, is the only person that can make her happy. She smiles when she sees him. At the end of the chapter, it is Tom who accompanies Harthouse to his hotel room.

Analysis:

It is very humorous that Harthouse is being hired to instill discipline and order when he is wholly lacking in convictions. A subtle difference between this chapter and the previous ones is the interior monologue of Harthouse; he is the first character in the novel whose thoughts are rendered verbatim to the reader. This is a good indicator of just how transparent his character is, but this will not prevent him from ultimately causing mischief and doing serious damage to his relationships with others.

Dickens is perhaps being a bit too merciless when he describes the Gradgrinds' educational system as "cutting the throats of the Graces." Dickens alludes to the three Graces of ancient Greek mythology, goddesses who personified beauty, joy and flowering. That the Gradgrinds' would eliminate this activity is especially worth noting because Book II is when the "reaping" will occur. The elimination of the Graces will insure the foreshadowed poor harvest.

One of the most important images of the chapter is that of Louisa's face, described as a face whose "natural play was so locked up" that Harthouse is unable to decipher her true thoughts and emotions. The "natural play" is a metaphor for Louisa's facial gestures and her expression but the state of their incarceration and lack of freedom (being "so locked up") stands as a symbol for Louisa's experience as a whole. Just as Bounderby can be understood by his braggart's portrait, Louisa is represented by her imprisoned, stony face. The motif that offers representations of the "self" leads to the metaphor of Bounderby's "household gods." Again, this reinforces his portraits and the toys of his wealth as a combination of idolatry and pride that is sure to bring doom.

A final contrast to consider is Harthouse vs. Louisa. While Louisa may be said to have few emotions and desires because of her restricted upbringing, Harthouse has few genuine emotions and desires because of his refusal to make an unswerving commitment. Dickens' treatment of the theme of fidelity is not a lumping together of the two characters‹when Louisa says "What does it matter?" she means something very different from Harthouse's more casual and more dangerous argument that one set of ideas is "as good as another."

Chapter Three: The Whelp

Tom Gradgrind has become quite wayward despite the rigors of his education and he is incredibly hypocritical and disrespectful. He makes no effort to hide his disdain for Mr. Bounderby even as he fascinated by Mr. Harthouse's flashy clothes and he befriends him for this largely superficial reason. Tom very quickly becomes a pawn of Mr. Harthouse. After a little alcohol and some tobacco, Tom is loose-lipped and uninhibited in his criticism of Mr. Bounderby. At one point, Tom goes as far as to say that he is the only person that Louisa cares about and that it is only for his well-being that she agreed to marry Mr. Bounderby.

Without realizing it, Tom is laying the seeds for a potential affair between Harthouse and his sister. As Harthouse becomes more enrapt with Louisa, Tom offers more and more secrets until he finally falls into a stupor. In his drunken fog, Tom suffers Harthouse's gruff rousing to get up and go home. A waiter helps him through the street and he eventually stumbles in the direction of his home, dissipated and wholly unaware of what he has done.

Analysis:

Tom's new characterization as a "whelp" is certainly a sing of bad things to come. Indeed, Tom's condition comes to be less a matter of foreshadowing so much as it shows the inevitable workings of fate. Later in the novel, the reader will find that well before Tom actually became a criminal, the novel had already uncovered his criminal potential. As an ignorant, headstrong young man, Tom Gradgrind suffers from what the Ancient Greeks called "hubris," an excessive pride that usually roused the gods to anger. In this case, Tom does not even have the benefit of becoming a fallen hero for there is nothing heroic about him. The image that he has of himself is far grander than what he actually is.

The images that identify Tom in this chapter are subtle indicators of the young man's folly, blindness and inability to direct his steps. In this chapter, he becomes involved in drugs, soporifics, tobacco, cigars and the like‹all of which induce a clueless sleep. This is reinforced by the symbolic action of begin carried through the mist by the waiter and Tom feels as though he is "lounging somewhere in the air." Certainly, one can draw a parallel between Tom and Stephen Blackpool's wife, but the most important feature of Tom's drunkenness is his somewhat innocent destructive activity. His intentions are far from pure, but he is unaware of what greater evils he sets in motion. Whether from the cigar smoke or the alley-air, Tom is not in control of his action.

A better parallel lies between Tom and James Harthouse for Harthouse will come to relinquish control of his actions by simply avoiding to calculate the consequences of the things he does. What these characters leave unsaid and to happenstance expresses a sentiment echoed in Dickens's euphemistic condemnation of Tom who would have done better to let the foul river rise above his "curtained head." Suicide is the unsaid factor here, and while Tom is never driven to suicide, his fate is little better and he does far greater harm to other innocent characters.

Chapter Four: Men and Brothers

This chapter returns to the life of Coketown's laboring poor. A conniving and dishonest man named Slackbridge is at the head of a movement to create labor unions. He has taken the legitimate concerns of the poor but he is more interested in inciting outrage and building a platform for his own power and edification than in achieving the common goals of the "Brotherhood." Stephen Blackpool is one of the power loom weavers and he is present at the meeting but he declines to join the union. Slackbridge denounces Blackpool and he curbs his language only after several members of his faithful crowd demand that Stephen be given a chance to defend himself.

Of course, Stephen lacks the rhetorical skills and the manipulative desires of Slackbridge and his deeply felt remarks are received but to little avail. Stephen has no problem with others joining the movement and he supports them but he cannot join and would simply like to continue his job without any trouble. Unfortunately, under Slackbridge's new regime, Stephen is ostracized as a traitor and he is deliberately ignored and shunned. Suffering the silent treatment, Stephen avoids seeing Rachael because he worries that if she is seen with him she will be treated in a similar way. The union movement has not yet spread to the women but it is expected in the near future. Stephen's life has simply gone from bad to worse and things look to get little better when he receives a summons to see Mr. Bounderby in his residence.

Analysis:

Slackbridge is one of Dickens's quintessential caricatures, the principal characterization of the man being derived from his one-word name: slack bridge. The juxtaposition of slack and bridge, should amply explain the danger that Slackbridge presents as a leader for the urban poor. Like a bridge, he is necessary and essential to the cause. But he is slack, not dependable, untrustworthy and dangerous. It is the combination of slack and bridge that produces the fault of the man. The worthless content of Slackbridge's message is described by alliteration in the phrase "froth and fume" and Slackbridge's demagoguery can be compared and contrasted to Bounderby and Sparsit, two other leading orators of the novel.

In the pairing of Stephen Blackpool against Slackbridge, Blackpool's negative name has no correlation with his character. Still, he is no match for Slackbridge's powerhouse. Slackbridge's rhetorical skills are exemplified in the copious allusions that he offers in the hopes of painting a sour picture of Blackpool's moral credentials. He alludes to the Old Testament story of Esau and his brother Jacob who tricked his brother Esau into selling his birthright. Slackbridge also mentions Judas (Iscariot) who betrayed Jesus Christ and a man by the name of Castlereagh, a British politician who earned the scorn of the laboring classes and also foreign diplomats by reneging on his promises.

Chapter Five: Men and Masters

When Stephen arrives he is in the company of Mr. Bounderby, Louisa, Mr. Harthouse and Tom. Mr. Bounderby intends to make an example of Stephen and present him to Mr. Harthouse as a sort of specimen of the lower classes. He asks Stephen if the other laborers have been harassing him but Stephen is unwilling to disparage his fellow workers. Bounderby then suggests that Stephen's conduct is on account of some far-fetched hope that he is going to come into luxury because he has resisted the insurrectionist movement. Stephen replies that he made a promise not to join the union and that is why he has refrained (but this is not a promise he has made to Bounderby but to another).

When Mr. Bounderby describes the group as a gang of "rascals and rebels," Stephen argues in their favor and explains that economics is at the root of their crisis. The problem is rich people who argue that they are always correct and that the poor are always in the wrong simply because of how much money they have. Stephen describes the situation as a "muddle" and he assures Bounderby that the problem is larger than Coketown and its factories and the longer the problem goes unsolved the greater the tension. Bounderby does not appreciate the criticism and on a whim he decides to repay Stephen's loyalty by accusing him of being disloyal. He goes as far as to say that Stephen has betrayed both his employer and his fellow employees and he caps his argument off by firing Stephen "for a novelty." Upon completion of his current assignment, Stephen is to leave the factory. Stephen appeals that he will not be able to find work in another place but Mr. Bounderby does not care. He looks at Louisa in the hopes of her rescuing him but she has lowered her head.

Analysis:

The narrative structure of this chapter parallels the "Men and Brothers" theme with its own "Men and Masters." Once dominated by those of his own low social standing, Blackpool is now dominated by those who are his social superiors. The "black unpassable world betwixt" the rich and the poor is a metaphorical "blackpool" that also echoes the words about angels and dead siblings who are benevolent spirits, blessing from across the "gulf" of life and death. The other major metaphor that Blackpool uses to describe the plight of the poor is a clock that is set on a ship bound to Norfolk.

His reference to Norfolk is well worth notice as Norfolk was an old Virginia colony that was unsuccessful and little different from the lost colony of "Roanoke." One of the central themes of literature involves the "unity" of time. Here, Stephen is practically philosophizing when he argues that time will continue to advance regardless of the do-nothing attitude of those who have the potential to produce some benefit for society. The social commentary focuses on the "muddle" that has been created in the hypocrisy of the wealthy and the incredible want of those who are lower on the social totem-pole. Just as Bounderby is incredibly casual in delivering a very serious blow to Stephen's livelihood, the images that describe him as a "windbag" and as a "wind rising" express the violent potential of his volatility. Yet again, Stephen is martyred and wounded despite his good heart. Don't expect his situation to get anything but worse; his fate is steady and he cannot overcome the curse of his name.

Chapter Six: Fading Away

By the time Stephen leaves Mr. Bounderby's house it is getting dark. Walking to his slum, he encounters Rachael walking alongside the old country woman that he had seen about a year previous. Just as she had been before, the lady was in a cheery mood despite the somber atmosphere. She has heard about Mr. Bounderby being married and she was hoping that she might get a chance to see the bride but she has not been very lucky. Stephen assures the woman that Louisa is young and pretty and this, of course, is exactly what the lady wants to hear.

Stephen informs Rachael that he has lost his employment and they are both depressed because they know Stephen is going to have to leave Coketown if he there is any hope of him working again. Though he is not happy to leave, Stephen is sure that Rachael's life will be easier without him there to complicate things. Deep down, both of them know that they will never see each other again. Stephen asks the old lady about her family and she announces herself as Mrs. Pegler, a widow. She also says that she "had a son" and Stephen and Rachael assume that her son has died though this is not what Mrs. Pegler has actually said. She re-states her claim: "I have lost him."

There is a small disturbance and the landlady comes up the stairs and informs Stephen that Mrs. Bounderby has arrived to see him. Mrs. Pegler is horrified that the woman might see her and she hides in a corner. When Louisa enters, she does the best that she can to undo her husband's wrong‹though of course, she cannot undo what he has decided. She offers some money to Stephen and he shows his decency by refusing the larger sum she offers and he instead takes two pounds‹a nominal amount that shows that he is grateful, but independent. Louisa has brought Tom with her and Tom seems to have some sort of plan in mind. He tells Stephen that he will be able to help him further and instructs him to loiter outside of the bank to wait for more instruction. Stephen does all of this for two days‹to no avail, for word never comes from Tom. He finishes his assignment and begins his journey to a new town and a new life.

Analysis:

"Fading Away" presents us with the images of decay, lingering and failure‹all of these foreshadow pain in the lives of the major characters. And a good part of this pain comes in the fact of fate being so protracted. Blackpool is not so fortunate as to suffer once and finally; rather, life gives him so many convolutions and false hopes that he is forever entangled in the negative affairs of his life. Just as his old wife is described as a metaphorical "evil spirit," the old lady who returns seemingly out of nowhere to comfort Stephen in his hour of need, is a symbol of fidelity.

Even though Stephen has the opportunity to leave Coketown, the potential freedom is overwhelmed by stronger, more negative images. The law of fate "rose like the sea" much as Bounderby exhibited the archetypal image of the powerful wind. In both cases, nature's archetypal images are employed to express the power of the forces who are against Stephen. They are as strong as nature because they present him with a fate that he cannot escape from. At the same time, the nature imagery suggests the death and decay of Coketown alongside the excessive power of sadness and of Bounderby. Most emblematic is the deteriorated sunrise‹which is very sharp because sunrise is when the sun's radiance dissolves the darkness of the previous night.

Dickens writes that the "sun made but a pale waste in the sky, like a sad sea" much as other characters "looked wan." We can add to these symbols, the fact that the town is "in eclipse" and is metaphorically blinded by the eclipse and the "smoked glass" of the town. The sun and sea images have been perverted as the only way to show how disorderly and improper the order and propriety of Coketown truly are.

Chapter Seven: Gunpowder

Mr. Harthouse has been very successful in his teaching job and he is considered to have great promise in the industry. He has been devoting most of his attention to Louisa, however. Louisa is clearly unhappy in her marriage and she re-iterates the question that she posed her father: "What did it matterŠWhat did anything matter." Just as she goes through her life not caring what happens, Harthouse is also ambling through simply because he is, at heart, too lazy to actually engineer any sort of design or plan. He never makes a deliberate plan to seduce Louisa, he simply figures that whatever will happen will happen and at this point, he neither hastens nor prevents an amorous relationship from developing.

After months of study, Harthouse begins to understand Louisa and he makes efforts to make her happy. He realizes that his philosophy will gain little ground with her because he does not care about the issues and she realizes that her life is so incredibly cloistered and detached from the outside world. The only way that Harthouse can make Louisa happy is through Tom and he decides he will take advantage of an opportunity should it present itself.

Mr. Bounderby is increasingly wealthier and he adds to the trappings of his social position with a "snug little estate": a country-house he has bought from a man who went bankrupt. On an occasion, Harthouse finds Louisa alone and in a conversation with her he professes an incredible interest in Tom and in winning her trust, he learns that Tom has borrowed quite a bit of money from Louisa to repay gambling debts. Tom's ungrateful manner and his increasingly reckless lifestyle are both a source of consternation for Louisa. When Harthouse gives Tom a stern talking-to and Tom's behavior slightly improves, Harthouse moves into Louisa's good graces.

Analysis

The narrative structure of chapters seven and eight combine a plot device with a metaphor. It should be immediately noted that there is no literal "Gunpowder" nor a literal "Explosion." Rather, the plot relies upon the cause-and-effect progression of the story in order to maximize suspense. Metaphorically, the "gunpowder" is simply the combustible material of tension and argument in strained relationships. But the "explosion" will turn out to have little to do with what is deceptively foreshadowed by the "gunpowder" in this chapter. In other words, actions are built up to the brink of climax but Dickens often leaves them lingering and turns to other element of the story.

Dickens's social commentary is especially revealing if we think about how the poorer characters are heavily subject to fate. The wealthier characters, however, suffer their calamities in terms of cause and effect. The major emphasis of the foreshadowing in this chapter is the budding potential for an extra-marital romance between Jem and Louisa. While Jem once noted that Louisa had "stone" features, we now find the allusion to the Gorgon sisters‹Medusa, chief among them. Jem feared that Louisa was hardened and ugly, but in fact she only wears her stone face without having lost her beauty. Ironically, the Gorgons do not have the stone faces, rather the young heroes who failed and gazed upon them are the ones turned to stone.

As heroes go, it remains to be seen whether Harthouse will successfully woo Louisa from the husband to whom she is obliged. Even as he metaphorically reads Louisa with a "student's eye" the truth of the matter is that he is a failed teacher in a failing system and she is more complicated than he surmises.

Chapter Eight: Explosion

At this point, Harthouse has not committed himself to any plan of action. In fact, he has yet to develop romantic feelings for Louisa in a true sense. He is simply passing the time by expressing interest in her. Bounderby bursts on the scene with the news that the bank had been robbed. A small safe in Tom's closet that was used for petty purposes had been ransacked and a total of one hundred and fifty pounds was gone. Of course, it could have been far more than that. Mrs. Sparsit and Bitzer had been in the bank at the time but Bitzer was sleeping on duty.

A false key is found in the street and it is concluded that the safe was broken into with the false key. Bounderby immediately suspects Stephen Blackpool for not only has Stephen left town, but Mrs. Sparsit and Bitzer can testify to the man's ambling back and forth in front of the bank for several days before the robber took place. The crime would both increase his relative fortune and allow him to have his revenge against Mr. Bounderby. Mrs. Sparsit is shaken by the affair and she spends the next few weeks with the Bounderbys and Mr. Harthouse at the country-house.

In the meantime, Louisa harbors a suspicion that her brother has somehow been involved in the crime. But when she asks him to confess, he rejects her advances‹even as she insists on absolute forgiveness. Louisa asks Tom if he thinks that Stephen Blackpool is involved in the crime as he seemed to be a very upright person. Tom is deliberately equivocal in his answers and Louisa leaves his room more bothered than before. After she leaves, Tom begins sobbing in guilt and tearing his hair. He loves his sister for her goodness even as he hates himself because he is so unworthy of her.

Analysis:

When Harthouse is smoking, he becomes a symbolic devil, and the source of temptation. Besides the smoke and fire, he is also associated with the "brimstone" of hellish Coketown. The metaphors used to describe Harthouse's moral condition resuscitate some of the images of drowning that occurred earlier in the novel. Here, his idleness is likened to an "iceberg" that may cause a "wreck" (And it will at the end of Book II). Harthouse is content to let himself drift along without making conscious efforts to do right or to do wrong. This is an important reversal for Dickens because he has spent most of the novel criticizing the excesses of labor and work. Now, his social commentary is leveled against the excess idleness and leisure of the leisure class.

In the discussion of the theft, there is nothing to out of the ordinary. Dickens uses his characteristic excess of irony and understatement when describing the "little safe in young Tom's closet, the safe used for petty purposes." Not only was the "safe" never safe, but we come to wonder how much of a safe this was if it was "little" in size, used for "petty" sums, and entrusted to the small closet of a "young" whelp. Of course, Tom is the thief and the fact that there has not really been a crime will not stop the search for criminals. Indeed, the false crime like the false key both testify to the themes of honesty and fidelity. Moreover, there is the question of surveillance and the limits of human understanding and knowledge. Despite their surveillance skills, Sparsit and Bitzer could not avoid the theft. Despite his rigorous education, Tom could not avoid stealing.

A final comment on knowledge and wisdom comes from Mrs. Sparsit's Shakespearean allusion to the play Hamlet. When thinking of Mr. Bounderby's loss, she hypocritically mourns (without feeling any sentiment) "Alas poor Yorick." This is a reference to Prince Hamlet's lines in Act V, Scene I, Lines 203-204: "Alas poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy." Hamlet has been watching the clumsy gravediggers prepare Ophelia's grave and in the process they uncover Yorick's skull. Yorick was the court jester and play friend of the prince. Ironically, Bounderby is no such Yorick‹"infinite jest" and "excellent fancy" are precisely opposite to his personality. Dickens's hidden reference gives us further reason to suspect Mrs. Sparsit's emotional attachment to her "benefactor," Mr. Bounderby.

Chapter Nine: Hearing the Last of It

Once again lodged in the Bounderby residence, Mrs. Sparsit becomes a prowling snoop, keeping tabs on the affairs of the house. She is more and more resentful of Mr. Bounderby and seems to enjoy the fact that he is under more stress and his marriage is falling apart. At the same time, she hypocritically coddles and pampers Mr. Bounderby who only comes to resent Louisa even more, for lacking the domestic charms and offices of Mrs. Sparsit.

Louisa is summoned back to her childhood home at the news that her mother has fallen ill. Of course, Mrs. Gradgrind had always been exceptionally feeble but she is in her final days and Mr. Gradgrind is still in London, working hard at Parliament. Sissy Jupe has run of the house and Louisa can detect a subtle difference in her younger siblings who have had a prolonged exposure to Sissy. As Mrs. Gradgrind gets closer to death she begins to lose her already loosened grip on reality. She asks for a pen to write letters to her husband but then she simply waves her hands in the air, feigning the motion of writing and this does her just as well. Not long after this, Mrs. Gradgrind dies and little emotion is spent.

Analysis:

The characterization of Mrs. Sparsit focuses on her facial features and their architectural composition. Her "Coriolanian" eyebrows and her dark, all-seeing eyes are indicative of her powers of surveillance. In contrast to the images of Sissy presented in Book III, Chapter One, Sparsit is not a site of refuge but her eyes are "lighthouses on an iron-bound coast." This is a symbol of Sparsit's strength and intensity but we will find in the later chapters of Book II is that she does not use her powers of surveillance to save or rescue anybody. Sparsit presents herself as a serene image. She moves without being seen but she sees all. This is not going to remain for much longer though.

Chapter Ten: Mrs. Sparsit's Staircase

Mrs. Sparsit, once the excessively austere ascetic, is enjoying her weeks at Bounderby's retreat, "feeding on the fat of the land." When she is in Mr. Bounderby's presence she calls him her "benefactor" but when he is not around, she addresses his portrait as "a Noodle." But Mrs. Sparsit's main area of concern is not Mr. Bounderby but his wife and her increasingly dangerous relationship with Mr. Harthouse. Mrs. Sparsit sees Louisa walking down an imaginary staircase that leads to her doom and the unraveling of the marriage. Sometimes, Mrs. Sparsit becomes frustrated because Louisa has an incredible reserve but Sparsit believes that time will prove the story to be one of interest. And throughout the events that unfurl, Sparsit makes no attempt to intervene.

Mr. Bounderby is spending more and more time at the bank‹though the thief remains free. Mrs. Sparsit focuses on Tom and tries to get information out of him but of course, Tom is not perceptive enough to detect the shift in his sister's relationship. As the chapter ends, Mrs. Sparsit prepares to do some detective footwork and she is confident that she will be successful.

Analysis:

The staircase is a central symbol that functions on a number of levels. As far as social commentary, the staircase's verticality expresses the rise and fall of fate as far as social standing is concerned. Indeed, the fates of Mrs. Sparsit, Louisa, Mr. Bounderby and Jem Harthouse are all dependent upon Mrs. Sparsit's staircase. A second major facet of the staircase is, of course, the archetypal fall by temptation. Much along the lines of the classic story of Eden, Louisa's descent down the staircase is a "fall" that parallels the original fall of man by sin.

The title of the chapter seems to heavily foreshadow the events of the next two chapters: "Lower and Lower" and "Down." Here, as always, we can expect that Dickens will employ some type of reversal of meaning and the referents of "Lower and Lower" and "Down" will be something other than we originally expected.

Chapter Eleven: Lower and Lower

Mrs. Sparsit keeps constant watch on everything that is happening and she is dismayed that Louisa has taken such a long time to fall into the gulf at the foot of the staircase. Her Gradgrind education has robbed her of the very fancies that would prey upon her now. Tom informs Mrs. Sparsit that during this weekend, Mr. Bounderby is remaining in town and he has the chore of meeting Mr. Harthouse at the train station. Mrs. Sparsit then goes to Mr. Bounderby and wins permission to lodge at the country-house for the weekend. After Tom leaves, Mrs. Sparsit realizes that Tom has been fooled and that Louisa and James are planning a tryst.

Mrs. Sparsit watches from her post at the bank and then when the timing is right she hastily makes her way to the country-house and sure enough she finds Louisa and James sitting in a garden together. He confesses his love but Louisa remains resistant. He implores her to at least commit to seeing him but she refuses. He suggests a change of venue and the entire time, Mrs. Sparsit, hidden behind the shrubs, gloats to herself that the two young people have no idea that they are being watched.

Harthouse leaves and Louisa soon follows. Mrs. Sparsit assumes that Louisa has eloped and that they have a planned meeting-place and so she trails Louisa as best as she can. It is raining and Mrs. Sparsit is already dirty and muddy from hiding and crawling through the bush. Sparsit follows Louisa to the train station and thinks that Louisa has hired a coachman to get her to Coketown faster but after a few moments Sparsit sees that she is incorrect. Louisa has boarded some train. "I have lost her" is Mrs. Sparsit's exclamation of defeat and frustration.

Analysis:

The potential for romance between Louisa and James is juxtaposed with the war-like relationship between Louisa and Mrs. Sparsit. Without speaking to one another, both characters seem locked in combat and Sparsit takes it as a personal loss when Louisa's "curious reserve" delays her long-awaited fall. Again, Louisa is portrayed as a silent figure is not truly understood by the people around her‹she remains curious. Instead of talking to Louisa, Mrs. Sparsit initiates a form of apostrophe. Mrs. Sparsit threatens Louisa on the imagined staircase, just as she mocks the portrait of Mr. Bounderby to his face. Within the theme of surveillance, Sparsit's behavior makes sense because she is eager to see but reluctant to be seen. She speaks to Louisa‹but not in a way that would allow Louisa to hear the threat: "all your art shall never blind me." Sparsit is very concerned about not being blinded or fooled but in the end of the chapter, she fools herself and misses her victory.

Sparsit wears her "threatening mitten" as a metaphorical glove, again symbolizing the military operation she has undertaken. Sparsit's intentions are never fully revealed. It certainly doesn't look like she has something against Louisa personally. Rather, she intends to exploit a bad situation for her own personal gain. The allusion to the Furies of Greek mythology is adequate evidence of Sparsit's high tolerance for the pain of others. The rain that inundates the streets makes a muddy mess and in the confusion, the "pipes burst" and the streets are underwater. When Sparsit confesses: "I have lost her," we see that the rain has established a symbolic confusion even as Sparsit's clothes are disoriented, torn and disheveled. Louisa is expected to drown in the "gulf" prepared at the base of Mrs. Sparsit's staircase but Sparsit is the most immediate sufferer here.

Chapter Twelve: Down

Louisa arrives at her father's house in Coketown, much to his surprise. She is incredibly perturbed, but far from Mrs. Sparsit's expectations, she is not engaged in any romantic enterprise. Louisa begins an angry interrogation of her father in regards to her education‹where are her emotions: "the graces of my soul? Where are the sentiments of my heart?" She explains to her father that he has done her a horrible disservice and that she is now in a ruined position. Her capacity to love and to differentiate between emotions is incredibly, deliberately deformed. Mr. Gradgrind is moved with pity and he begins to make apology to Louisa, who has become more distraught than ever before. She implores her father to save her from her situation for he has gotten her into it. She then passes out on the ground and Mr. Gradgrind's educational system has come crashing down with her. This is the end of Book Two: Reaping.

Analysis:

The narrative structure offers a climax in this chapter, but overall Book Two ends with more tension and drama. "Down" continues the trajectory of "Mrs. Sparsit's Staircase" and "Lower and Lower" but in a reversal of expectations, "Down" does not present the symbolic fall that was expected. Louisa does fall down literally, at her father's feet. The metaphor of the fall extends also to the "House of Gradgrind" and the prized educational system for Louisa was the pride and joy of the system. Finally, it appears that Louisa's marriage is also on the verge of collapse. There are many things that have fallen "down," but the phrase has come to mean something larger than what was originally intended by Mrs. Sparsit and her staircase.

Louisa's characterization is more intense than in previous scenes. While Louisa's repressed emotions have prevented her from becoming a full person, here the tension between emotion, temptation and confusion becomes almost epic in its proportions. In symbolic terms, Louisa confesses: "I crushed my better angel into a demon." Her "better angel" is the fanciful, imaginative spirit that she has almost murdered on account of the "demon"‹hard facts, analysis and the suppression of desire. The image of a shipwreck aptly characterizes the "insensible heap" that Louisa has become and breakdown renders her temporarily unable to process any emotions or thoughts.

Book III: Garnering

Chapter One: Another Thing Needful

When she wakes up, Louisa is slightly disoriented. She does not immediately remember what has happened the night before. Sissy has brought her to her old room and she sees her younger sister, Jane. It is very clear to Louisa that Sissy has had a positive effect on the family for her sister's face is far more radiant than would have been expected. Mr. Gradgrind comes into the room to see Louisa and he is not at all like his old self. He is, instead, full of sorrow, humility and apology. He assures Louisa that he never meant to hurt her and that he has honestly only done those things which he thought would be best for her.

Louisa asks her father for advice but he replies that he does not really trust himself to give her the correct advice. To be honest, he simply does not know enough about emotion to offer proper counsel. He considers his youngest daughter, Jane, and points out that she is a happier case and that despite the rigorous education, she has had daily associations with Sissy and this has made all the difference. Even Mr. Gradgrind admits that he has also undergone a sort of change in large part thanks to Sissy. It seems then, that Sissy might have some advice or counsel for Louisa and later on, after Mr. Gradgrind leaves Louisa's room, Sissy enters.

Louisa apologizes for her unpleasant attitude and she insists that Sissy must be disgusted by her. But throughout the conversation, Sissy only extends the kindest emotions towards Louisa who eventually ends up sobbing in Sissy's arms.

Analysis

Book Three is entitled "Garnering" and the narrative structure of this final section, reflects the author's efforts to conclude and organize the action and the dispersed characters. One of the dominant symbols of the chapter is the unstable, no longer solid "ground" upon which Gradgrind's system once stood. The not-solid ground is literally the floor upon which Louisa has collapsed. The shakiness is echoed in Gradgrind's trembling voice and his overall re-characterization as a humbled man who has been brought down low. Dickens' characterization is not as entirely negative as it might have been. Gradgrind's good intentions are taken into account, and it is true that he has only sought to improve his children and never meant to cause them pain.

After an extended absence from the story, Sissy reappears as the archetypal heroine. We can fully expect that in Book Three, Sissy will play a savior-like role for the Gradgrind family and she will care for them as best as she possibly can. There is an intense contrast and reversal of fate for Sissy is the "once deserted" girl but now she is the one who towers over Louisa and cares for the young woman who described as a metaphorical shipwreck. The shipwreck image is furthered by Sissy's depiction as a lighthouse or beacon for she "shone like a beautiful light upon the darkness of the other."

Chapter Two: Very Ridiculous

James Harthouse has been restless for the last day and a half for he has received no word from Louisa. He is Coketown, where he expected to see her again after their encounter in the garden. He finds Louisa's brother, Tom, and interrogates him but Tom has not seen Louisa. Also, Tom is more than a little upset about waiting in the rain for Mr. Harthouse to show up‹and of course, Harthouse was up to other things at the time. Harthouse spends the hours in his hotel room and after a certain point, he is convinced that Mr. Bounderby must be aware of his relationship with Louisa.

He considers his options and it occurs to him that he might have to box Mr. Bounderby. He entertains himself with the ridiculous idea of training and having the hotel waiters and staff assist him. He receives a message that there is a young lady waiting to see him. It is Sissy and she has arrived to inform Harthouse that he is no longer to see Louisa and that he must depart Coketown and never return. Harthouse tries to impose his authority but to little avail. Sissy is firm in her demands and she yields nothing. At the end of the chapter, Harthouse is astonished that he could be so easily manipulated by a younger woman. His surprise reaches its peak when he learns of Sissy's lowly upbringing amongst horse trainers. Discontinuing his relations with Louisa before they amounted to fidelity is "about the very best passage in his life" but Harthouse is incredibly ashamed of what he perceives as a weakness.

Analysis:

This chapter pits Sissy against James Harthouse and even as this scene could hardly have been predicted, Sissy's victory is also a surprise that we would not have expected. Dickens takes great effort to continue the portrayal of the poor and the reversals of fortune that he began earlier in the novel. The irony of the scene is demonstrated in Sissy's rhetorical abilities in spite of her upbringing. Harthouse is reduced to the paradox of a "Great Pyramid of failure." Harthouse is great, whether he fails or succeeds, if only because of his noble birth. Dickens presents an opportunity for Harthouse to show humility and grace, but Harthouse goes as far as to renounce the good deeds that he has grudgingly agreed to carry out. His self-image and characterization as a Pyramid somehow leads to the idea of escaping the scene altogether and heading for Egypt. In contrast to men like Stephen Blackpool, Harthouse has plenty of loopholes and opportunities for escape.

The imagery that surrounds Harthouse is largely negative. His hotel is described as a symbolic hell, a "region of blackness." And Harthouse's idleness and inconsistency is described as a moral weakness that is worse than more deliberate evils. The sharpest metaphor for Harthouse's moral condition can be found in Dickens explanation of the man's rhetoric: it was the "polishing of but an ugly surface." Harthouse seeks to polish his appearance and justify his actions, but he is both guilty (ugly) and superficial (surface). Even his wrongdoing is shallow and incomplete, it seems.

Chapter Three: Very Decided

Mrs. Sparsit is still stirring up trouble. All of her running back and forth in the nighttime rain has caused her to get a violent cold but this does not stop her from completing her mission. She went as far as London to find Mr. Bounderby and confront him with the news of Louisa's conversation in the garden, and her flight from the country house‹presumably, to continu