In these times of ours, though concerning the exact year there is no need to be precise, a boat of dirty and disreputable appearance, with two figures in it, floated on the Thames, between Southwark bridge which is of iron, and London Bridge which is of stone, as an autumn evening was closing in. The figures in this boat were those of a strong man with ragged grizzled hair and a sun-browned face, and a dark girl of nineteen or twenty, sufficiently like him to be recognizable as his daughter. The girl rowed, pulling a pair ...
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In these times of ours, though concerning the exact year there is no need to be precise, a boat of dirty and disreputable appearance, with two figures in it, floated on the Thames, between Southwark bridge which is of iron, and London Bridge which is of stone, as an autumn evening was closing in. The figures in this boat were those of a strong man with ragged grizzled hair and a sun-browned face, and a dark girl of nineteen or twenty, sufficiently like him to be recognizable as his daughter. The girl rowed, pulling a pair of sculls very easily; the man, with the rudder-lines slack in his hands, and his hands loose in his waistband, kept an eager look out. He had no net, hook, or line, and he could not be a fisherman; his boat had no cushion for a sitter, no paint, no inscription, no appliance beyond a rusty boathook and a coil of rope, and he could not be a waterman; his boat was too crazy and too small to take in cargo for delivery, and he could not be a lighterman or river-carrier; there was no clue to what he looked for, but he looked for something, with a most intent and searching gaze. The tide, which had turned an hour before, was running down, and his eyes watched every little race and eddy in its broad sweep, as the boat made slight head-way against it, or drove stern foremost before it, according as he directed his daughter by a movement of his head. She watched his face as earnestly as he watched the river. But, in the intensity of her look there was a touch of dread or horror. Allied to the bottom of the river rather than the surface, by reason of the slime and ooze with which it was covered, and its sodden state, this boat and the two figures in it obviously were doing something that they often did, and were seeking what they often sought. Half savage as the man showed, with no covering on his matted head, with his brown arms bare to between the elbow and the shoulder, with the loose knot of a looser kerchief lying low on his bare breast in a wilderness of beard and whisker, with such dress as he wore seeming to be made out of the mud that begrimed his boat, still there was a business-like usage in his steady gaze. So with every lithe action of the girl, with every turn of her wrist, perhaps most of all with her look of dread or horror; they were things of usage. 'Keep her out, Lizzie. Tide runs strong here. Keep her well afore the sweep of it.' Trusting to the girl's skill and making no use of the rudder, he eyed the coming tide with an absorbed attention. So the girl eyed him. But, it happened now, that a slant of light from the setting sun glanced into the bottom of the boat, and, touching a rotten stain there which bore some resemblance to the outline of a muffled human form, coloured it as though with diluted blood. This caught the girl's eye, and she shivered.
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Add this copy of Our Mutual Friend to cart. $23.27, new condition, Sold by Ingram Customer Returns Center rated 5.0 out of 5 stars, ships from NV, USA, published 2017 by Createspace Independent Publishing Platform.
Add this copy of Our Mutual Friend to cart. $53.79, good condition, Sold by Bonita rated 4.0 out of 5 stars, ships from Newport Coast, CA, UNITED STATES, published 2017 by CreateSpace Independent Publis.
Dickens' Our Mutual Friend is a great read and this is a good readable addition with good notes. We recommend it.
Leslie
May 14, 2011
My Favorite Dickens novel
I've read 14 Dickens novels (am on my 15th) and have enjoyed this one the most. The plot lines are engrossing -- it's fascinating to see how they intertwine. The male characters and their psychologies are so well drawn that it's hard to imagine they're not real, especially Wegg, Rokesmith, Headstone, and -- as minor as he is -- Twemlow.
The theme of identity plays out on many fascinating levels, like peeling an onion. There are identities that are kept secret, deliberately misrepresented, misunderstood, self-questioned, and illusory. It makes for a fascinating psychological study.
Setting is particularly well done in this novel -- the river is so predominant that many scholars consider it one of the book's characters, and rightly so.
Some plot denouements require suspension of disbelief (doesn't Dickens usually?). They don't detract from the novel as a whole, however; instead they invite reflection, discussion, and debate.
One of the things I especially like about this novel is its emotional complexity. This is perhaps a darker novel than Dickens fans have come to expect, but there are still laugh-out-loud moments as well as scenes that invite long and deep reflection. And, as in most Dickens novels, there are female characters -- like Lizzie Hexam -- whom you sometimes just want to shake and say, "Shape up!" or "Get a grip!"
This is a novel that completely engaged me on both an intellectual and emotional level. I heartily recommend it. And don't try to speed through it. Go slowly and savor it.
Frances G
May 1, 2011
Charles Dickens in writing this book helped us to know about child labor, sanitary conditions, distinctions between the rich and the poor. He also was what I would say our original environmentalist. This book should be on the reading list in our high schools.