Charles Dickens: The Pickwick Papers

The critic G.K. Chesterton wrote of Dickens, "If he never again descended to the level of Sketches by Boz, it is doubtful if to the level of Pickwick he ever again rose." There are those who say that this is Dickens' finest work. The format, they argue, plays to Dickens' strengths: characterization, epigram, and setting a quirky scene. There is little if any plot here, and that seems perfectly suited to Dickens' style. Pickwickians also seem to have an affection for the eponymous character akin to that of Sherlockian fanatics.

On the first count, I think I can safely agree with Pickwick's supporters. When Dickens introduces plot into the mix, it often takes the form of some convoluted and unnecessary mystery, but there never seems to be any sense of development. Things happen, yes, but they don't seem to belong to each other. Of course, Dickens' real gift is his inventiveness. His characters are indelible and the situations in which they find themselves are just barely on this side of slapstick, thus preserving some weight while entertaining.

On the second count, I think I must dissent with Pickwickian wisdom. I find little about Mr. Pickwick that is memorable, let alone charming and sincere. His sense of civility is both thin and misguided. He does not think before he acts--for good or for ill--and many of the hardships accounted in the book are the result of this fault in him and his followers. Pickwick, and especially his worthless friends, all suffer in comparison to Sam Weller. This latter character has all the characteristics that Pickwick should: wisdom, wit, judiciousness, charisma and passion. It is difficult to see what he finds so admirable in his master--or, indeed, what anybody finds there.