Dear Serial Readers,
I hope you received your first installment of DROOD via Mousehold Words, or, if you prefer the book format, that you've acquired a copy (I recommend the Oxford edition). I've installed a "gadget" (see right margin) of the image that appeared on every cover of the six installments of DROOD. You can see at the top center a cathedral entryway, and buried at the bottom, a dark underground, crypt-like space, complete with a key and shovel above it, the stomping ground of Durdles the grave stonemason. I wonder if the titled "mystery" will have something to do with Durdles and his tombstones (or "Tombatism," as he puts it).
Other scenes anticipated or shown early in the novel encircle the wrapper for DROOD, including a wedding couple to the front of the cathedral, upperleft, and then at the bottom right, someone smoking a pipe beneath a serious cloud of smoke. This figure seems of an Orientalized nature to me--the clothes, the shoes, even the face. The image echoes the opening disorienting passages of Jack Jasper in a (presumably London) docklands opium den, with three doped companions, a "Chinaman, a Lascar, and a haggard woman." A Lascar, according to my Oxford English Dictionary, is a sailor from India or SE Asia (with lnks to Urdu and Persian army). The contrast between the quintessential English Cathedral Town and the outreaches of Empire frames the novel's opening. I wonder where the narrative is headed, geographically speaking, with Ned Drood's plans to marry Rosebud and head "to the East" (or rather, southeastward) to Egypt as a civil engineer (the Suez canal was opened in 1869, and British interests in the area were growing).
About Ned and Rosebud--I was intrigued to see Dickens roll out the arranged marriage plot so soon again, on the heels of OUR MUTUAL FRIEND, the novel that immediately precedes this one in the Dickens canon. Unlike Bella Wilfer and John Harmon, though, Ned and Rosebud (which I prefer to "Pussy") seem to be moving along steadily, their arguments notwithstanding, toward their predestined marital future. But I suspect there's a major roadblock up ahead.
One more thing--the novel so far seems to have strains of that most popular serialized novel of the decade, sensation fiction. I couldn't help notice all the neo-Gothic elements, the Catholicism hinted at in Clositerham's ancient past, with the Nun's House, and the crypt, yet on the surface, a quaint English village with its proper Anglican hierarchy of dean, verger, clerk. Despite this atmospheric emphasis on the deep past, the narration is thoroughly in the present tense for the duration of this installment. That strikes me as unusual. Will this present tense last? Where will it shift to the past tense?
Please post a comment on anything at all about this installment of the first five chapters. You don't need to be seasoned Dickens reader, or even up on Victorian novels of the day. You can pick up on something I've mentioned, or head out in another direction entirely. The plan is to read and comment on the next installment (chapters 6-9) in about two weeks. I'll post my next comment around Nov. 3rd, but if you'd like me to post yours instead, please email me your remarks!
In the fullness of serial time,
Susan
3 comments:
I love how DROOD begins. The comments about the Cathedral spire make it seem as though the novel will open on some sleepy English village but the uncertainty surrounding the true identity of the spire, and then the revelation that it is the bedpost inside an opium den, creates a contrast and tension that is present throughout the first installment. Just as the reader is trying to make sense of the scene, Jasper endeavors to understand the mumblings of the other addicts which are ‘unintelligible.’ In the next chapter, when the narrative does indeed open on the village of Cloisterham and the reader discovers that Jasper is the choirmaster of the cathedral, his character becomes just as unintelligible as the other addicts. I think this is an interesting comment on how far reaching the effects of Empire are if even a quaint, English village shelters an opium addict. Even though Jasper claims to be using the drug for legitimate medicinal purposes, there is no reason for him to light up again at the end of the installment.
In connection with the comment on the present tense of the narrative thus far, I felt like it gave the story a more theatrical air. Especially in the scene where Jasper and Drood are talking about Rosebud (how on earth did she get that horrible nickname?) and cracking nuts, the writing was more reminiscent of stage direction rather than narrative. I’m not sure what this does, if anything, for the overall effect of the story. The tension between Jasper and Drood is palpable and I can’t wait for their next interaction.
I can tell how much I get drawn into narrative--I've been so eager to keep reading! Now, once I finish this entry, I can. Even though I found myself not liking the opening chapters, I can't wait to read further. And I find my thoughts focused on guessing what the mystery is and what will happen next.
I found myself thinking about the opening chapters as too "precious." I think that's partly due to the present tense of the narrative. Perhaps I started to get entertained with Mr. Sapsea. I think I find Drood rather young and his diction a bit irritating.
I spent some time wondering why Jasper wants Edwin not to call him "uncle," and speculated for a few minutes that Jasper was really Edwin's father, until I reread and saw that they are only 6 or 8 years apart (I can't remember which). I feel pretty certain that Jasper is in love with Rosebud, and I wonder if she is equally interested in him. I think she may be. Perhaps that's why Jasper doesn't want Drood to focus on their age difference.
I don't understand the nature of Jasper's warning to Drood at the end of chapter 2. Jasper has some unfulfilled ambition or desire--some sense his work is out of tune with himself, but how is that a warning to Drood, and what is Drood refusing to gather from this "sacrifice" on Jasper's part?
This first installment of Edwin Drood was really a treat, as this is a completely new Dickens novel for me!
I have to say, my first impression is that this is going to be a DARK novel. The opening paragraph juxtaposing the "ancient English Cathedral Tower" with the "spike of rusty iron" and “the Sultan's orders for the impaling of a horde of Turkish robbers" through the "scattered consciousness" of Mr. Jasper (the temporary visitor of an opium den) set the scene for a tale of mystery, violence, and perhaps even a glimpse into the seedier side of life. The initial suggestion of violence carried through the installment, too, especially with the pelting of Durdles the stonemason in the final chapter.
In these early chapters, I also noted the heavy emphasis on both the Past and the Future. On the one hand, the setting is the "old Cathedral town" of Cloisterham, "whose inhabitants seem to suppose...that all its changes lie behind it, and that there are no more to come." On the other hand, there is the specter of the Future represented by the prearranged marriage of Ned and Rosebud. The end of chapter 3 draws our attention to this in the final lines: "Can't you see a happy Future? For certain, neither of them sees a happy Present, as the gate opens and closes, and one goes in, and the other goes away." I wonder if the present tense of the narrative is a way of preserving a Present that seems in danger of being swallowed up in the seamless movement from past to future?
Finally, I too was interested in the relationship between rural England and the world beyond. These installments are filled with references to the East (as Susan noted in her post). I was most interested in Mr. Sapsea's comment "If I have not gone to foreign countries, young man, foreign countries have come to me." I wonder whether we will see this model of commodity-based "globalization" as a prominent theme in the following installments.
For now, I'm eager to see where Dickens takes us in the next installment.
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