Important Quotations Explained
1. So
they established the rule that all poor people should have the alternative
(for they would compel nobody, not they) of being starved by a gradual
process in the house, or by a quick one out of it. With this view,
they contracted with the waterworks to lay on an unlimited supply
of water, and with a corn-factor to supply periodically small quantities
of oatmeal, and issued three meals of thin gruel a day, with an onion
twice a week and half a roll on Sundays. They made a great many
other wise and humane regulations . . . kindly undertook to divorce
poor married people . . . instead of compelling a man to support
his family, as they had theretofore done, took his family away from
him, and made him a bachelor! There is no saying how many applicants
for relief, under these last two heads, might have started up in all
classes of society, if it had not been coupled with the workhouse;
but the board were long-headed men, and had provided for this difficulty.
The relief was inseparable from the workhouse and the gruel, and
that frightened people.
This passage, from Chapter 2,
describes the conditions in the workhouse to which the orphan Oliver
has just been sent. The function of this description is twofold:
first, to provoke our sympathies for young Oliver and his fellow
unfortunates, and second, to register Dickens’s protest against
the welfare policy and practice of charity in the England of his
time. Three years before the publication of Oliver Twist, the
British Parliament passed a controversial amendment to the nation’s
“poor-laws.” This amendment stipulated that the poor could receive
public assistance only if they took up residence in official workhouses
and abided by their regulations. In these workhouses, husbands were
separated from wives, and living conditions were often abysmal.
Lurking behind the establishment of workhouses were the assumptions
that moral virtue lay in work, that work led necessarily to success,
that economic failure was the result of laziness, and that, therefore,
poverty was a sign of moral degeneracy. In Dickens’s opinion, charity
based on this kind of premise did far more harm than good to the
material and moral situations of its recipients. In this passage,
and throughout the early chapters of the novel, he adopts a sarcastic,
harshly satirical tone to make this point. Dickens, in fact, says
the exact opposite of what he really means and does no more than
state the truth. All of the conditions he describes did actually
exist. Rather than exaggerating to make his point, Dickens relies
on the inherent absurdity of the way English society treated the
poor to manifest itself through his description.
2. Who
can describe the pleasure and delight, the peace of mind and soft
tranquility, the sickly boy felt in the balmy air and among the
green hills and rich woods of an inland village! Who can tell how
scenes of peace and quietude sink into the minds of pain-worn dwellers
in close and noisy places, and carry their own freshness deep into
their jaded hearts! Men who have lived in crowded, pent-up streets, through
lives of toil, and who have never wished for change—men to whom
custom has indeed been second nature, and who have come almost to
love each brick and stone that formed the narrow boundaries of their
daily walks—even they, with the hand of death upon them, have been
known to yearn at last for one short glimpse of Nature’s face, and,
carried far from the scenes of their old pains and pleasures, have
seemed to pass at once into a new state of being.
In Dickens’s time, England was rapidly
becoming an industrial, urban society. Dickens’s works are overwhelmingly
concerned with the social and psychological conditions that city
life fostered, and he is known as one of the first great urban European
authors. Yet, in this passage from Chapter 32,
describing Oliver’s sojourn to the countryside with Mrs. Maylie
and Rose, the author reveals his profound skepticism about the influence
of urban life on the human character. This passage praises the purity
and health of the rural environment and claims outright that even
a lifelong city-dweller has in his blood a faint longing for the
“new state of being” to which nature can elevate him. Dickens goes
on to note that, in the country, even “the poor people” are “neat
and clean.” The squalor and starvation that characterize urban poverty
are not present in rural England. Given the eagerness of England’s
rural poor to migrate to the city, it seems unlikely that this assessment
is realistic. In many ways, Dickens’s idealized vision marks him
all the more clearly as an urban writer, since his gritty portraits
of city life are based on real experience, while his blissful portrait
of rural life seems more the product of wistful fantasy.
3. “Stay
another moment,” interposed Rose. . . . “Will you return to this
gang of robbers, and to this man, when a word can save you? What
fascination is it that can take you back, and make you cling to
wickedness and misery?” “When ladies as young, and good, and beautiful
as you are,” replied the girl [Nancy] steadily, “give away your
hearts, love will carry you all lengths—even such as you, who have
home, friends, other admirers, everything, to fill them. When such as
I, who have no certain roof but the coffin-lid, and no friend in
sickness or death but the hospital nurse, set our rotten hearts
on any man, and let him fill the place that has been a blank through
all our wretched lives, who can hope to cure us? Pity us, lady—pity
us for having only one feeling of the woman left and for having
that turned, by a heavy judgment, from a comfort and a pride into
a new means of violence and suffering.”
This exchange takes place between Rose
and Nancy in Chapter 40. It is one of the
most emotionally heightened conversations in the novel, and it represents
a sophisticated treatment of the moral and social issues that dominate
the story. Nancy, a prostitute, embodies for Dickens all the degradation
into which poverty can force otherwise good people. Rose, on the
other hand, represents all the purity that comes from good breeding.
Both women embody the feminine compassion that compels them to help
Oliver. That feminine compassion, maternal and sisterly when directed
toward Oliver, is also what binds Nancy to her vice-ridden lover
Sikes. In this passage, Dickens emphasizes the key role that environment
plays in distinguishing vice from virtue: the same loyalty to a
loved one that would be a virtue in Rose is a self-destructive force
for Nancy. Though Nancy is compassionate and intelligent, she deflects
Rose’s attempts to save her from her life of crime, thus proving
that the damage done by a bad upbringing is irrevocable. Yet Nancy’s
decision to return to a life of “vice” is arguably the most noble—if
foolhardy—act in the entire novel. Her love for Sikes and her compassion
for Oliver together compel her to sacrifice her own life. Though
Dickens clearly approves of the second emotion far more than the
first, it is likely that they stem from the same impulse in Nancy’s
character.
4. At
times he [Sikes] turned with desperate determination, resolved to
beat this phantom off, though it should look him dead; but the hair
rose on his head and his blood stood still, for it had turned with
him and was behind him then. He had kept it before him that morning,
but it was behind now—always. He leaned his back against a bank,
and felt that it stood above him, visibly out against the cold night
sky. He threw himself upon the road—on his back upon the road. At his
head it stood, silent, erect, and still—a living grave-stone, with
its epitaph in blood. Let no man talk of murderers escaping justice,
and hint that Providence must sleep. There were twenty score of
violent deaths in one long minute of that agony of fear.
After murdering Nancy, Sikes flees London,
only to find that his conscience will not let him escape. This passage,
from Chapter 48, embodies an idea that has
fascinated many great authors—the idea that a guilty conscience
is its own punishment, worse than any that the law can assign. The
entire account of Sikes’s flight is also among the most psychologically
sophisticated passages in the novel. Up until this point, Sikes
has been a pure villain. In his guilt, however, he becomes more
realistically human. We probably cannot sympathize with Sikes, but,
in this chapter, we do see the world through his wretched eyes.
Moreover, Dickens’s vivid descriptions allow us to experience Sikes’s
sensation of being hunted, by both external and more horrifying
internal pursuers.
5. I
have said that they were truly happy; and without strong affection
and humanity of heart, and gratitude to that Being whose code is
Mercy and whose great attribute is Benevolence to all things that
breathe, happiness can never be attained. Within the altar of the
old village church there stands a white marble tablet which bears
as yet but one word: “Agnes”. . . . I believe that the shade of
Agnes sometimes hovers round the solemn nook. I believe it none the
less because that nook is in a Church, and she was weak and erring.
The final passage of the novel sums
up Dickens’s moral and religious vision. On the one hand, Dickens
considers a firm and true belief in God to be an essential prerequisite
of both moral rectitude and earthly happiness. On the other hand,
the novel has not been kind to characters such as Mr. Bumble, who
prattle on about Christian values, but whose behavior is notably
lacking in “Benevolence” and who are quick to condemn others as
sinners. The description of Agnes’s grave is an attack on puritanical
religion, which would consider adultery to be an unforgivable sin.
The novel’s faith in Christian values is as wholehearted as its
attacks on Christian hypocrisy are biting.