I have been putting my library card to good use, and picked up a hard copy of Oliver Twist. This evening, because it’s a Friday and I’m a wanton hedonist, I had a peppermint tea and read the first four chapters.
Oliver Twist is a bit like Genesis or Fight Club, you don’t have to have read the book to feel familiar with it. However, reading it afresh gives you a lot to think about.
Firstly, reading skills have clearly declined. Oliver Twist is was billed as a children’s book, but now, you’d find many adults struggling to get through it. Some of it is the language, but a lot of it is just the cleverness of the language. Depressing.
Talking about depressing, my second point is that this book is rather sad. In the first four chapters, Oliver experiences multiple beatings, the death of his mother (it happens on page 2), solitary confinement, and narrowly escapes being indentured to a chimney sweep who had had four previous apprentices roasted in the chimneys while working. It was certainly a different world back then, and we to think we gave it all up for some measly GDP.
Finally, it’s very funny. Dickens realises how horrible this world is, and constantly makes fun of it in a way that has me regularly cracking a wry grin.
I recommend it.