[Classics Movie] Little Dorrit

This BBC adaptation of Charles Dickens’ novel Little Dorrit was adapted to miniseries by Andrew Davies. Although they were rather long—for the novel is very long too—I have enjoyed it. This is the second time I watched Dickens’ adaptation by BBC, which I like for their original setting. As usual, I am breaking down my opinion of this miniseries in this review,

Castings

Overall, I don’t have many complaints for the castings. For Amy Dorrit, I preferred her in the miniseries; she looks stronger and more natural than in the book. I imagine that a young girl should obtain such qualities under poverty and hard times. Amy in the book seems too delicate, just as characters in tales. Claire Foy’s blue eyes, sweet face, and of course, brilliant acting, are really the main attraction of this miniseries.

Matthew MacFadyen is indeed a perfect cast to play the melancholy Arthur Clennam, a man of forty who thought he was too old for Amy and was beyond his age for romance. His reaction when John made him (Arthur) realized that Amy loved him, was superb. Mrs. Clennam and William Dorrit also reflect what I imagined from the book. My favorite is, perhaps, Mrs. Merdle; the actress can play the beautiful, haughty and hypocrite lady in a perfect manner. Rigaud or Blandois also fits my imagination from the book; his singing the French chant is really memorable, although for they who listened to it in the story, it must be a thrilling experience. 

Claire Foy as Amy Dorrit

The only one who did not match the book at all is Cavalletto. Cavalletto in the miniseries is too ‘handsome’, while in the book he was described as quite plump and comical. But who can complain about that, as James Thorpe—an English comedian—could play the character very well? 

James Thorpe as Cavalletto

Oh, and there is also Henry Gowan. I didn’t like him in the book, but I think Henry is, in the miniseries, the most attractive male character of all…..

Alex Wyndham as Henry Gowan

Story and Plot

Mostly, the plot follows the book; but there is a crucial part in it that has been altered, I don’t know for what reason. It is about Mrs. Clennam’s secret. In the book, the uncle of Mr. Clennam (Arthur’s father), following his sympathy towards Arthur’s real mother who was at that time already dead, inherited a sum of money to the youngest daughter of Arthur’s mother’s music teacher, who was Frederick Dorrit, or—if he didn’t have a daughter—the youngest daughter of his brother. In the miniseries, it was confusedly altered so that people would think that Amy and Arthur were relatives. This, I think, a fatal failure. The script writer might have adopted that alteration to make the plot less confusing, but at the end, it would confuse you more!

One more thing, here Amy revealed Mrs. Clennam’s secret to Arthur by showing him the document which Rigaud would like to sell to Mrs. Clennam; while in the book Arthur never knew the secret and because of that, never have to forgive the woman he thought was his mother, for Amy asked him to burn the letter which he never knew the content. In this case, I like the miniseries version, because I believe Arthur deserved to know about it, and Amy did not have the right to hide it from him. How can you start a marriage life with a lie?

Setting and Costumes

The Marshalsea is just a debtor prison as I have imagined from the book, as well as the old and fragile Clennams’ house. The atmosphere reflects both despair and bitter hatred of the inhabitants. Especially in William Dorrit’s room, I can feel the warmer atmosphere, which I believe was brought by the loving character of Amy. The glimpses of the Dorrits’ journey to Italy and Rome are quite entertaining, although I hoped more of the snowy Alps and the Great St. Bernard Hospice scenes.

Part of the characters in Little Dorrit in front of Clennam's house set

About the costumes, one that was annoying me was Fanny Dorrit’s. Really, must dancers in 19^th century put a weird make up like that? Watching Fanny Dorrit’s lips reminded me of a Geisha! I liked her much better when she has no make up at all, at the bedtime scene with Amy; there she was much prettier. Or maybe they wanted to point up Fanny’s bad temper by making her lips so thin? But still, you can do that by acting, not solely by the lips shape!

Emma Pierson as Fanny Dorrit

In the book, Amy returned to Marshalsea to visit her beloved Arthur, wearing her old dress when she was still a poor girl. This detail did not appear in the miniseries, although I think it’s not just about dress, but more to emphasizing Amy’s feeling, that poverty suited her much better than richness; so I think it’s important that Amy appeared in that scene in her old dress.

One thing that annoyed me is the ending. The ending was much different from the book, and I think, did not fit at all with the whole story. I don’t know why BBC must put a typical ‘happily-ever-after’ scene with all the confetti, colorful dresses, and cheerful celebration to describe Amy-Arthur’s wedding. After the dress, now the wedding, one would think that Amy is Cinderella! If we know Amy very well, we should know that—despite of her richness phase of life—she was still the timid and simple young woman who attended the more essential things in life, and who despised being a lady. I think, to be fit with Amy’s character, the ending should follow the book’s, where Amy and Arthur went to the Church and registered their marriage, then left it hand in hand in silent, savoring the happiness as husband and wife by themselves. That would be a perfect touching and memorable ending!

For all that, I granted 6.5 of 10 stars for this Little Dorrit BBC miniseries.

Arthur Clennam in Little Dorrit

Arthur Clennam is the main male protagonist in Little Dorrit. I choose him to be featured in Character Thursday this week instead of Little Dorrit herself, because I found an interesting aspect in his personality. Brought up by the contrast combination of an iron-woman mother and a weak father in a dark and gloomy house full of hatred and revenge atmosphere had affected Arthur’s character as a man. I imagined petit Arthur as an unhappy and brooding child, constantly feeling unsafe and unsure, afraid at every action that his mother would scold him.

Fortunately his father took him when he has grown up to China to work as an apprentice in their family business. I imagine, being away from that horrible house and his strict and loveless mother, and lived in a loving surrounding of his father, has altered his personality to be much better. When he returned to England after his father died, Arthur has become a tender and loving person, though his day-dreamer and shyness aspects were still there—which I suspect as the result of his mother oppressive way of bringing him up.

What I like from Arthur is his sensitiveness towards injustice. Bringing home a remembrance token from his father to his mother, he insisted to be informed whether their family had been done any injustice to others while doing business in the past; that he would like to repair that if any. Arthur showed that manner too in Dorrit’s imprisonment. He was the originator of Pancks’ investigation in the case, which led to the revealing of Dorrit’s unexpected fortune.

Matthew MacFadyen as Arthur Clennam
in BBC miniseries

What I doesn’t like from Arthur is his over-sensitiveness—or may I say melancholy?—thoughts of himself. After being rejected by Minnie (Pet) Meagles, he considered himself too old for love—and he was only forty!—and although he felt something special towards Amy Dorrit, he pushed aside the idea of love, and assured himself that it was a feeling of protection, or even more a fatherly affection to a child—which led him to call Amy as ‘my child’. Oh Arthur…how foolish you were!

All in all, I learn from Arthur Clennam’s story that one’s character was much influenced by how he/she had been brought up. Unhappy characters usually come from unhappy atmosphere in their home. Even if they have experienced much better life conditions after that, small fragments of the unfortunate past might still exist in who they are today.

Little Dorrit

Until now, Little Dorrit might have been the most struggling Dickens I have ever read. If you think it’s the thickness, no, it’s not a problem at all. It’s not the story either—although I did have several complaints I would have made to Dickens on it if he’s still alive. The most annoying aspect in this book for me is Dickens’ lengthy depiction around Circumlocution Office and the economics system, which reminds us of the infamous Ponzi scheme. I know, it’s mainly on those two subjects that Dickens wanted to criticize through Little Dorrit, but again, his tedious description and emphasize on those subjects really bored me to death.

Little Dorrit followed the story of the Dorrits in their two extreme conditions. In the first stint, they lived poorly in Marshalsea debt prison—Dickens wrote it from his own childhood experience. Amy Dorrit born and grew in this prison, and after her mother died, she must endure not only poverty, but most of all—especially for Mr. Dorrit the father—family’s humility. In this prison also, Amy befriended a young man, Arthur Clennam, whose kindness and attentive manner has stolen her heart. In the second stint, the Dorrits unexpectedly inherited a large sum of money, which altered their faith. Leaving the prison behind, they hastily entered the high society of London.

Beyond that, Dickens also took us to the chronicles of the Clennams, the Merdles, the Meagleses, the Gowans, Rigaud and Cavalletto, and of course the mysterious Miss Wade. Their stories intertwined with each others, and through them Dickens presented us with the dark themes of social injustice, hypocrisy, greedy, hatred and revenge; and showed us how love and kindness were the only way to happiness.

My first impression after finishing this book was how Mrs. Clennam reminded me of Miss Havisham, both with their eternal passion of vengeance against love infidelity, and both rotted in their darkness houses and hearts. And then I was thinking how vividly Dickens wrote about their hatreds, did he experience the same feeling himself? In the same likeness, Little Dorrit also reminds me of Little Nell in The Old Curiosity Shop. Both were tender, shy, grew in poverty—which forced them to bear a bigger responsibility than what girls at their age must bear. Both were full of love, and must take care of the elders, and both were called ‘Little’. I think this was much influenced by Dickens’ fondness of young, delicate and innocent girls.

From the plot I felt that, here and there, Dickens seemed to force things to suit each other. At first the story was quite boring, again, with long description of the Circumlocution Office—the satiric way Dickens criticized the unbearable bureaucracy; that even they seemed to always be busy, they in fact did not do anything but circling one task all over the office without ever gone out from it. Fortunately nearly the end, we were entertained with the mysteries surrounded the Clennams, which boost the plot a bit faster, although I felt it too faster this time. There were still few things I still didn’t get after finishing it.

First of all, what did really happen with the money Little Dorrit should inherit? Was the money still existed when Mrs. Clennam revealed the secret? Was it kept in Mrs. Clennam’s possession all the time? Or whether Mrs. Clennam had spent the money? But on what? Considering on how wretched her old house was, the fact that she could not afford to buy back the codicil from Rigaud/Blandois, and her high pride, it’s very unlikely that she did as low as using the money herself. And speaking about the house, don’t you think its ruining or blazing was a bit exaggerating? And, who was the “the poor thing that kept here secretly”, whose ghost haunted the house and whose “sounds” Affery used to hear?

And what about the oddness of how Mr. Gilbert Clennam—uncle of Mrs. Clennam’s husband—had made his will. After the woman with whom Arthur’s father had had adultery died, the money must be granted to her patron’s youngest daughter or the youngest daughter of the patron’s brother if the patron didn’t have any. Wasn’t the plot a bit forced, do you think? Why her patron? And most of all, why the youngest daughter? Well, it is supposed to be a tale anyway, but still….

I keep also wondering why Little Dorrit insisted upon burning the codicil. I think Arthur had the right to know who his mother was. Mrs. Clennam has died anyway, so Little Dorrit won’t hurt anyone—but Arthur—if she just let Arthur read the document. And I don’t think Arthur would have been much hurt by the secret, he might have been angry to Mrs. Clennam for deceiving him, but still...I would never agree on one’s hiding a truth from someone he/she loves. Or perhaps Little Dorrit was afraid that the legacy will make her rich and unhappy? But the one she burned was only the codicil, not the original legacy, isn’t it? Oh well….whatever, I’m confused.

Apart from those confusions, Little Dorrit brings us the true portrait of social and economics of London in 19^th century. From this book we came to know how the combination of careless investment and the corrupt government would do injustice to innocent people. Mr. Dorrit was imprisoned in Marshalsea after failing to pay his debt. He should have not stayed there for such a long time if the Circumlocution had done their works. Moreover, families of the prisoner suffered much from humility and banished from the society. Even after being released from it, the imprisonment itself left a dark trace in one’s life, as had happened to Mr. Dorrit.

In term of moral value, Little Dorrit taught us also that the real happiness does not come from wealth and status, but from love. Little Dorrit never looked at her poverty as a handicap; she always rich in love, and because of that, people loved her.

Three and a half stars for Little Dorrit, it’s not one of my favorites, but still….how can you don’t love Dickens’ witty and sweet story telling?

~~~~~~~

*I read the 1996 Wordsworth Classics paperback edition*

*This book is counted for*

4^th book for 2013 TBR Pile Challenge

2^nd book for Back To The Classics 2013

32^nd book for The Classics Club Project

1^st book for Read Big! Reading Challenge

3^rd book for What's In a Name Reading Challenge2013

Miss Wade in Little Dorrit

Although not the most influencing characters, Miss Wade is one of the most intriguing characters I found in Little Dorrit. She could not be included in the protagonists or antagonist group, as she was just an unhappy and indifferent young woman who added ‘colors’ to this book’s main story and theme.

From her first appearance on board the ship that brought Arthur Clennam to England, I have noticed something special in Miss Wade. She was described as ‘a handsome young Englishwoman, travelling, quite alone, who had a proud observant face, and had either withdrawn herself from the rest or been avoided by the rest.’ She was a stern woman, anti-social and liked to spend times in her solitary; she seemed to be having a severe hatred in herself, and always regarded the world with bitterness.

It was later on revealed that Miss Wade was an unfortunate human being. From her confession letter to Arthur Clennam, we began to understand why she appeared to be mysterious; and despite of her haughty manner, no one knew who she really was, and what social status or level she possessed. Miss Wade turned out to be born as an orphan. Since childhood she was treated differently; girls of her age with whom she lived with began to patronize her; and people conciliated her in insolent pity and superiority—just because she was an orphan.

Maxine Peake in the BBC mini series

Miss Wade has a deep love towards another girl whom she lived with; but she treated her just like others. Sometimes she seemed to be sweet to her, but other times she often deliberately hurt her too by making her jealous. In a little coincident, Miss Wade heard her friend told someone that Miss Wade was a child with an ‘unhappy temper’.

Further more when she was a young woman, she fell in love with a young man. They have been engaged and were certain to get married, when Miss Wade felt that the guy’s family wanted her to be submissive to the family. Once again Miss Wade felt she was being dominated by others, and this enraged her. The marriage was cancelled, and Miss Wade had a bitter hatred towards her lover.

I think her strong will and determination came first from the lack of love she experienced in her childhood. Not having parental affection, she searched for it in her friends—and that’s why when she liked one of the girls, she loved her immensely. However she was disappointed by others’ superiority towards her, including her dear friend. It was the disappointment from her best friend which terribly hurt her. And unfortunately she lived among the society who highly praised social status at that time, that she was assumed and treated as a woman of lower class, despite of her educated and cultured manner.

From her story, I learned that before we judge others, we ought to find out their background first, it’s more often than not, one’s character or moral was cultivated from his/her childhood social culture and education.

Visiting Great St. Bernard Hospice With Little Dorrit

Starting the second part of Little Dorrit, Dickens brought us mountain-biking to the Alps of Switzerland. The “Fellow-Travelers”—as the first chapter title—stopped by the famous Great St. Bernard Monastery and Hospice. And to help myself following the vivid descriptions presented by Dickens (he actually visited the place on September 1846), I have gathered these…. enjoy!

"In the autumn of the year Darkness and Night were creeping up to the highest ridges of the Alps. It was vintage-time in the valleys on the Swiss side of the Pass of the Great Saint Bernard, and along the banks of the Lake Geneva." ~p. 409

[source]

"The air had been warm and transparent through the whole of the bright day. Shining metal spires and church roofs, distant and rarely seen, had sparkled in the view; and the snowy mountain-tops had been so clear... (...) Mountain peaks of great celebrity on the valleys, whence no trace of their existence was visible sometimes for months together, had been since morning plain and near in the blue sky." ~p.409

[souce]

"Up here in the clouds, everything was seen through cloud, and seemed dissolving into cloud. The breath of the men was cloud, the breath of the mules was cloud, the lights were encircled by cloud, speakers close at hand were not seen for cloud, though their voices and all other sounds were surprisingly clear." ~p. 411

[source]

"There were gloomy vaulted sleeping-rooms within, intensely cold, but clean and hospitably prepared for guests." ~p.411

[source]

"Finally there was a parlour for guests to sit in and to sup in, where a table was already laid, and where a blazing fire shone red and high." ~p. 11

[source]

"Prey, has your convent many of its famous dogs now? ...I saw three in the gallery below.... And I think I have seen one of them before. | He was a dog sufficiently well known. Monsieur might have easily seen him in the valley, or somewhere on the lake, when the dog had gone down with one of the order to solicit aid for the convent." ~p. 417

[source]

Of course it would be slightly or much different on the 19th century when Dickens visited the monastery, but at least I could imagine a bit of it. Thanks you Mr. Dickens for slipping little entertainment here in the middle of this (quite) tedious reading...

When Love Is Gone… (A Quote From Little Dorrit)

While this quote I picked from Dickens’ Little Dorrit might not have any greater values, it was such a beautifully written piece that I can’t just leave unquoted. This narration followed a poor gentleman in this story, who had been unlucky in his love adventure.

Here’s the previous narration…. ‘When he had walked on the river’s brink in the peaceful moonlight for some half an hour, he put his hand in his breast, and tenderly took out the handful of roses (a farewell present from the girl he has been in love with). Perhaps he put them to his hearts, perhaps he put them to his lips, but certainly he bent down on the shore, and gently launched them on the flowing river…’

And this is the beautiful-touching quote I picked for my Weekend Quote this week, and which inspired me to find a beautiful image that suits it:

“While the flowers, pale and unreal in the moonlight, floated away from the river; and thus do greater things that once were in our breasts, and near our hearts, flow from us to the eternal seas.”

Well I think it’s not just about lovers, everytime we lost something dear to our hearts (it could be a friendship, a big opportunity, or anything we value the most in life), the above metaphor of the roses flowed from us to the eternal seas could describe perfectly our feelings, don’t you think so?

This can be regarded as my 16^th Weekend Quote, a meme hosted by by Half-FilledAttic. Feel free to join. You can:

• Give the context of the quote
• Give your opinion whether you agree or disagree with it
• Share your experience related to the quote
• Share similar quotes you remember
• Or anything else. Just have fun with the quote.