Today we're covering two books, one by Dickens and one about him.
- The Mudfog Papers by Charles Dickens (Alma Classics, 2014).
Dickens wrote The Mudfog Papers as a series of sketches for Bentley's Miscellany in 1837 and 1838, at the same time Oliver Twist was being serialized there. Mudfog was originally named as the town where Oliver was born, but when the novel was published in book form, the town's name was taken out. However, we still have Dickens's satirical essays about the political and scientific endeavors of this fictional place, now republished in a nice little paperback edition with a brilliant cover illustration by Marina Rodrigues. (Look closely at both parts of the illustration, upper and lower, and you'll see why I call it brilliant.)
This is relatively early Dickens (still writing as "Boz") and his gift for satire was still developing, so the essays are not as consistently funny as some of his later satires would be -- but they're still very funny, with a few laugh-out-loud moments. (Here he is as an over-eager reporter sending breathless dispatches during a boat trip: "Half-past nine. Some dark object has just appeared upon the wharf. I think it is a travelling carriage. A quarter to ten. No, it isn't.") The book includes George Bentley's introduction from the 1880 edition, comprehensive endnotes, a biographical sketch complete with descriptions of all the major works, and a bibliography of recommended background material. For some unfathomable reason, the editor of this edition is not named anywhere in the book, but he or she has done an excellent job.
- The Final Recollections of Charles Dickens by Thomas Hauser (Counterpoint, 2014).
Hauser's novel purports to be a deathbed confession written by Dickens about a sordid episode from his past. As a young man, he tells us, he was introduced by his publisher to a wealthy man named Geoffrey Wingate, who was interested in having the young Boz do a little PR for him. Needing to know more about Wingate first, Dickens started investigating . . . and discovered murder, prostitution, and all sorts of other unsavory goings-on. At the same time, even though engaged to Catherine Hogarth, Dickens found himself captivated by Wingate's alluring wife, Amanda.
There is no nice way to say this, so I'll just have to come right out and say it: This is a very, very poorly written novel. Hauser's plot is weak and full of holes, and his style weaves uncertainly back and forth between flat and flowery. If he studied Dickens's style at all, it seems to have been only with the intention of emulating and exaggerating his weaknesses. Thus, as one subplot, he gives us a sentimental love story a la Dickens, but heightens the sentimentality to the point where even Dickens himself would blush for him.
And though Hauser works various quotations and paraphrases from Dickens's own novels into the text (as promised in an introductory Author's Note), there's no rhyme or reason to how he does it; he doesn't use them at particularly interesting or exciting moments as a wink to the reader. They're just dropped in here and there as part of the narrative or the dialogue, with an almost audible thud.
I honestly can't find any reason to recommend this novel. Those who aren't fans of Dickens probably won't be interested in the first place, and those who are his fans will find very little in this badly done portrayal to remind them of the real man and his work.
(Review copies purchased from Barnes & Noble and obtained from the publisher, respectively.)
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