The Blushful Hippocrene

I'm done with Barnaby Rudge and have started with Pickwick Papers. Now Pickwick is one Dickensian novel I have read over and over again. It (together with A Christmas Carol) are my two favourite Dickens's novels. There is something so homey and funny and cheerful about this book. It feels like curling up with an old friend, a mug of hot chocolate, under the duvet, when the skies are dark and lowering.

I've just come back from Singapore. I was there for a conference of sorts...slept my way through a seminar on "high performance analytics" and then forced myself to keep awake by taking weird notes.

One of the notes: "I wonder how Dickens would describe this guy?"

I arrived home late in the evening and decided to watch the last of the three LOTR films, extended version of course. When Theoden made his speech and rallied his troops..."Arise riders of Theoden"...I cried.

So Anna said my eyes were puffy this morning...like I'd been crying...and I thought, but I haven't had any recent heartbreak...then I remembered...oh yes, LOTR always makes me cry. It evokes strong emotions (when real life and people don't). So yes, I cried. And yes, I want to watch it all over again when there is no one to disturb me.

With all this, I want to take a break from Dickens and read some JRR Tolkien, not only the Lord of the Rings trilogy but the Silmarillion as well. I am intrigued by Galadriel's story and the Noldorin.

But back to Dickens. I loved Barnaby Rudge, and when Dolly Varden proposed to Joe...it was very satisfying. Also satisfying that although much was threatened, nothing happened to the two beautiful girls. (Even in David Copperfield, the fallen girl was ultimately redeemed, though not through marriage - he is kind to beautiful girls, even perhaps, Estella)

So anyway, there is no real love interest in Pickwick. I mean, there are a lot, but none really...it is about travelling about, staying at inns, good fellowship, listening to stories, making spurious discoveries, and drinking lots of hot punch, and rum, and wine.

Oh for a beaker for the warm South....