The start of the affair
25 July 2008
I have always had a soft spot for Great Expectations, Charles Dickens’s final masterpiece, which I first read as a set text for my English Literature GCSE. Most of the books I had to read for English class at school were somehow made much less enjoyable by the simple fact that it was being “taught” to me. However, Great Expectations was one of the few exceptions (Animal Farm, Lord of the Flies and maybe Watership Down were others that I managed to enjoy).
Part of the reason would be because the list of books selected by the teachers was a travesty. Even now, when I think I may have reached something approaching a literary sense that was supposed to be nurtured at school, I still cannot fathom why some totally forgettable wastes-of-paper were forced on us, and many classic English authors such as Austen, Bronte, Chaucer and so on, inexplicably excluded. I had to discover these authors by myself later in life. I suppose I should consider that a blessing given how unappreciated they would be had I encountered them at school.
Thank goodness though, that I was at least introduced to Great Expectations, which just about made up for the sabotage of English teaching in school. Indeed, it was the reason that I did much better than expected in my English Literature GCSE exam. I am certain that my essay on the changes in Pip’s character through the book was far ahead of my own time. None of my other friends dared to attempt that question, and to discuss something as subtle as regret, alluding to various points in the text when the adult Pip’s guilt and reproach punctuated the narrative, means it remains my finest attempt at literary criticism to date.
Even though I hated English as a subject at an immature 15 years of age, Great Expectations has always held its place in my heart. I remember actually wanting to do the required reading and homework instead of bluffing my way through class. I even dared to read ahead some chapters occasionally, braving the kind of scorn that 15-year old boys reserve for pansy literary types. Looking back, Great Expectations was the first novel that brought out the inner sensitive and sentimental teenager in me. I think that was exactly the kind of reaction Dickens was aiming for.
It must be hard to write a novel with such strong autobiographical elements and strike a balance between nostalgia and indulgence in condemning past errors given the gift of hindsight. Pip’s character is given a sort of hypothetical sympathy, which is correlated with the reader’s life experience. This is why Great Expectations not only stands the test of time with every reread, but seems to grow up with you.
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