Classics Club Meme: June 2013

This month's Classics Club question is: 

What is your favourite opening sentence from a classic novel (and why)?

There are two that stick out to me. One of them is somewhat stereotypical -- the beginning of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way -- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

There is magic in those lines for several reasons, in my opinion. I think that first of all they are simply memorable because of the rhythm of the sentence. I also think they perfectly capture the French Revolution -- there is so much hope and yet so much despair, just as the lines describe.

The other beginning that I love is from Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind.

Scarlett O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were.

I've found that most people either love or hate Gone With the Wind. I am firmly in the love camp, despite the unlikable character and overly tragic ending. Part of that may be because it was the first huge book I'd ever read, but I think more than that, it is because despite Scarlett's negative qualities, she is a survivor, and she grows. I'd never want to have her close in my life, but I respect her and see her redeeming qualities all the same. I love the way this sentence illustrates that Scarlett is more than just beautiful -- she is cunning, sharp, and persistent.

Which opening lines of classics do you enjoy? 

 

Short Story Spotlight: "The Cricket on the Hearth" by Charles Dickens

Dear Mr. Dickens,

It has been quite some time since we last corresponded, and I am delighted to inform you that I had the pleasure of enjoying one of your Christmas-themed short stories, "The Cricket on the Hearth." I would argue with you that it isn't truly Christmas themed, as the story takes place in late January and doesn't mention Christmas-time but instead treats of weddings and anniversaries. However, I enjoyed the story so much that I was completely willing to overlook the fact that the cheer it imparted was not, in fact, Christmas cheer -- just a general sort of cheer about love and friendship and family.

I felt John Peerybingle's insecurities along with him as he wondered how his beautiful, young wife could possibly be in love with an older man like himself. I watched his mind reel as Tackleton planted nerve-wracking suspicions into his head, watched him fight the hope that swelled up in him when the good spirit of the cricket on the hearth tried to make him see the truth. I was just as shocked as Peerybingle when he thought his suspicions to be confirmed; I couldn't believe that his faith in his wife was misplaced. I was relieved and experienced real comfort when everything was restored as it should be. I think that is your real talent, Mr. Dickens -- while at times your characters seem like comical caricatures, they bring up powerful, universal emotions. And they leave me with a feeling of satisfaction. "The Cricket on the Hearth" is the perfect story for a winter's night, curled up in a sweater and Snuggie with hot cocoa. It is even cozier than tea.

So, Mr. Dickens, our relationship keeps improving. I think friendships are a little more interesting when everyone isn't always in perfect, boring agreement. I've even come to accept my arch-nemesis, A Tale of Two Cities -- all of the false starts were worth Sidney Carton. "The Cricket on the Hearth" removed another brick from the wall between us. I hope to continue to enjoy this relationship, sir.

I remain,
Your faithful correspondent.

Post script: In case you are unfamiliar with the Snuggie in your own particular time period, it is a delightsome invention that enables ultimate warmth with the free use of the hands. It is the perfect way to read a book, if only one does not concern oneself about one's own foolish appearance. I have enclosed a photograph.

Dear Mr. Dickens: A Tale of Two Cities (finished)

Dear Mr. Dickens,

I think that in reality, you thought I couldn't do it. You were silently laughing to yourself at my futile attempts to get through your acclaimed work, considering me to be too stupid, too naive to understand what my friend Sam called "his easiest novel," what I always heard described as "a lovely book," but what I could nevertheless not fathom.

However, I have defeated it. It took me months, and there were a few moments of tearing my hair, but I finished the book.

But don't feel too defeated, Mr. Dickens. In reality, this is a two-way victory. Because after I got through your soliloquies on the best and worst times, the unintelligible rantings of Jerry Cruncher, the overabundance of Jacques, and the over-explanation of some things, under-explanation of others, I found myself deeply connected and invested with your story.

Mr. Dickens, I even cried. On public transportation. I know that you don't have buses in your sphere of reality, but compare it to crying in a giant cab filled with over fifty people. I was that swept up.

I've told you the things I struggled with in a paragraph above, and if you are sufficiently humbled, I will build up your confidence once more and tell you the reasons it warmed my heart. It was a slow process, I'll admit. It took time for me to love your characters. However, they stole quietly into my heart. It was so moving to hear Lucie plead for Charles Darnay and to see the devotion she had for her father. She was a bit insipid as far as heroines go, but sweet in her way. And Darnay was obviously upstanding, although it seemed more in principle than in action. Yes, he gave up his position and was ostensibly a good person, but it was something I heard about rather than saw for myself.

But Sidney Carton - nice work, Mr. Dickens. I have never seen such an effective transformation of a character that was so believable. He is the best example I have ever seen of love overcoming all things. I don't want to say more - I don't want to ruin the story for anyone else who may happen to come across our correspondence in the future. But you took me from a bored reader just trying to overcome this beast of a book to a passionate player in the story, knowing exactly what will happen but spellbound anyway. I still wish you hadn't made it such a tough nut to crack, but this will forever be a book that I recommend now - with a grain of salt, mind you, but recommended all the time. It is a must read for everyone who wants to understand the human condition. Thank you.

The Story Girl

4 stars

Dear Mr. Dickens: A Tale of Two Cities

Esteemed Mr. Dickens,

You are by this point familiar with my previous struggle with your works. Fortunately, after electing to read Oliver Twist, we were able to repair our fractured relationship and enjoy each other's company. However, it was still not without consternation that I began your later work, A Tale of Two Cities. You may remember the number of (fruitless) attempts that I previously made to enjoy this particular tale. Although I picked up the volume at multiple stages of my life, I could never get past the second chapter. After my delightful experience with Oliver Twist, I vowed that I would give this novel, described by some of my friends as your best, a second chance. However, as the time to read it approached, I wondered if I should get in another novel before attempting A Tale of Two Cities, strengthening our fragile relationship.

When I noticed your name on the roster of this month's installment of The Classics Circuit, however, I thought that the pressure of a deadline would inspire me to finish. I dug out my Dover thrift edition (cheap binding and tiny print) and settled in with the book on my two hour bus ride. Once again, the first two chapters will difficult for me. Despite the famed quote at the beginning ("It was the best of times, it was the worst of times") the beginning of the book meandered and muddled for me. Don't get me wrong - it was eloquent - but I just had no idea what was happening. The air of mystery surrounding the stagecoach did not only cloak the passengers in darkness, but my own awareness of what was going on. However, as Mr. Lorry emerged from the night into the adventures of rescuing Dr. Manette, the plot also brightened for me. Once the characters began to take shape, your heavy words enhanced instead of obscured the scenes.

I am currently one hundred pages in. While the reading is thick, so far it has been rewarding. I am curious to know who imprisoned Dr. Manette, what exactly Charles Darnay is doing in France, and who will win the heart of Lucie Manette (okay, so it really isn't that much of a surprise, Mr. Dickens - I am pretty sure my assumptions will be correct. But I want to humor you in the challenge you are presenting with Sydney Carton). I positively delight in Miss Pross and her horror of the "hundreds of men" coming to call on Lucie. I am also enjoying your language once again. While it isn't as humorous as in Oliver Twist, it still presents shades of humor and sarcasm. To me, Oliver Twist seems like you are writing in caricature and A Tale of Two Cities seems like you are writing in earnest. It seems a little more real with a little more emotion. While I wasn't able to finish the book by my deadline, I have made considerably more progress than ever before (and the number of attempts I've made have been numerous, so this is a great milestone). I will send you my review once I finish the book.

As always,

The Story Girl