
Why celebrate two hundred years of Dickens?
Gustave Flaubert, in a letter to George Sand, commented “The author’s life is nothing; it’s the work that matters.”
7th February, 2012, marks the bicentenary of the birth of Charles Dickens. I’m with Flaubert on this, and Dickens’ life interests me very little. I guess it’ll be another twenty years or so before I can justifiably celebrate his writing in the shape of a bicentennial milestone. This is a date that will probably pass with less fanfare. The construct seems altogether arbitrary, and the suspicion arises that the mystical pronouncements of the calendar owe a lot of their power to economic opportunism.
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In his Faulks on Fiction Faulks picks Fagin as one of his representatives of the character type he designates “villain.” Rightly so. He also observes that it is Fagin who carries Oliver Twist, with which I whole-heartedly concur.
The Signal-Man is a short but superb ghost story, in which any ghastly manifestations must be assessed in terms of a psychological interpretation of the narrative. It is those psychological implications which cause the narrative to assume a shifting and uncertain form. 


