u/NietzscheanWhig

Over the last four years, I have been working my way through Dickens' complete oeuvre in chronological order. Here is my verdict.

The Pickwick Papers - loved it. It was my first Dickens novel, and the first novel Dickens ever wrote, making it a fitting place to begin. The lack of a plot didn't bother me - I simply delighted in the silliness. It is still my favourite Dickens and my best Dickens reading experience. As I had read hardly any Dickens before this I had no pre-conceived expectations concerning the structure of the novel or anything of that kind. The 1960s musical wtih Harry Secombe (available on YouTube) is very enjoyable but doesn't come close to being as great as the original work.

Oliver Twist - a very convoluted plot which stopped being much fun after the first half of the book, especially because Oliver himself disappears from view for large parts of the novel and isn't a very well-developed or complex character. The adaptations for screen are superior.

Nicholas Nickleby - not very popular among Dickens lovers, but I loved it. I related strongly to Nicholas himself as a character because of similar life circumstances and his being a similar age to me when I read it. Wackford Squeers and Ralph Nickleby are two of the greatest villains Dickens ever made. And who can forget the charming John Browdie? The 2002 film is also a brilliant adaptation.

The Old Curiosity Shop - my first DNF. I found Nell boring, saccharine and lifeless, Quilp felt like a cartoon than a real person, and the story meandered in the most uninteresting way. Characters would appear like in a pantomime and then disappear again, having left no lasting impression. I gave up around the part where Little Nell is dying of pneumonia.

Barnaby Rudge - not a popular one and largely forgotten today, but I really enjoyed it. The Romeo and Juliet style plot was rather formulaic, Barnaby is a rather nothing character, and the riot scene went on for too long, but I still got a lot of enjoyment out of it. I really wish Dickens hadn't been so insufferable every time Dolly Varden appeared on the page and had exercised some authorly self-control.

Martin Chuzzlewit - I DNF'd towards the beginning. It read like it was written by a Dickens who was on drugs. The prose was over-the-top in its melodramatic quality, characters were appearing and disappearing without any serious attempt to flesh out who they were, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the dialogue, and it all proved very overwhelming. Perhaps one day I will return to it.

Dombey and Son - loved it. Dickens' first masterpiece, head and shoulders above his other novels. And John Carker is another superb Dickens villain. It has some of the finest prose Dickens ever wrote - perhaps the first Dickens novel which has superlative prose in my opinion. The passage describing little Paul Dombey's death comes to mind. I still love The Pickwick Papers more, but I can recognise the objectively superior craftsmanship that went into Dombey and Son.

David Copperfield - LOVED the first half. Betsy Trotwood is my favourite female Dickens character. The second half, with Dora the child-bride, bored and repulsed me and ruined my enjoyment of the novel. I had to force myself to finish it. The film with Dev Patel is superior to the book.

Bleak House - I have tried it twice (see my last post). I just don't get on with it. I can see what Dickens is trying to do but the whole detective format just doesn't work for me. Sorry Bleak House lovers. It does have some of Dickens' greatest prose, and Tulkinghorn and Inspector Bucket are my two favourite characters. The social satire is overwrought and not funny. Esther is a rather one-dimensional character but her narrative is much easier to follow than the rest of the novel. I do find Richard Jarndyce and his monomania regarding the case deeply compelling. (Just one of a handful of monomaniacs in this novel - Miss Flite's own obsession with the Jarndyce case, Jellyby and her philanthropy, Turveydrop with his deportment, etc.)

Hard Times - I liked Hard Times, but didn't love it. The gimmicky names (Bounderby, M'Choakumchild) exhibit the usual Dickensian lack of subtlety, but it was still a very interesting satire of utilitarianism. I found the portrayal of trade unions fascinating and unexpectedly hostile for an author who was so sympathetic to the working-class. The grooming subplot involving Bounderby and Louisa Gradgrind was also very involving. I was disappointed that Louisa didn't prove somewhat more rebellious in the face of her father and Bounderby's attempts to ground her down - yet another weak Dickens female.

Little Dorrit - I really enjoyed the first half. The second half, when Amy and her family have left the debtors' prison, is not nearly as interesting, but the last 100 pages or so revive the story. I just wish the resolution wasn't so convoluted and that Dickens' hadn't killed off Blandois in such a cheap way. Amy is honestly another saccharine Dickens female, but the male characters, especially Arthur Clennam, are of great interest to me.

Tale of Two Cities (I forgot to add this the first time round) - I can appreciate this novel objectively as a strong work of late Dickens, but it didn't do that much for me. Great prose, plenty of drama, and a very interesting look at the psychology of someone who has suffered solitary confinement. However, Lucie Manette was a rather dull character, and to me it is not plausible that Sydney Carton would sacrifice his life for such an insipid being.

Great Expectations - meh. Too many convenient coincidences. Still, the most tightly-controlled narrative of any Dickens book, with many enjoyable scenes, especially with Miss Havisham.

Our Mutual Friend - I loved this novel. It felt like a more enjoyable Bleak House. Being able to recognise John Harmon in disguise gave me a similar sort of thrill to when I was able to recognise the disguised Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. Bella Wilfer and Lizzie Hexam are two of the best female characters Dickens ever created. Mr Boffin and his wife were deeply interesting characters too. (I was actually taken in by their abrupt change of manner towards Harmon.) The resolution is also deeply satisfying. I enjoyed the comic scenes between Boffin and Silas Wegg, and found Riderhood a deeply compelling villain. And all of those dead people turning up in the Thames gave a wonderful sense of the grotesque and the mysterious that pervaded the whole novel.

The Mystery of Edwin Drood - the only Dickens I did not read in chronological order, as I read this either shortly before reading The Old Curiosity Shop or shortly after dispensing with it. I really enjoyed it and felt cheated by the lack of a resolution owing to Dickens' death. It was building up to be a really involving story, with strong thematic similarities to Our Mutual Friend.

And that is my journey through Dickens' novels. Now I just need to read through all his short stories and non-fiction so I can say I have read everything he wrote!

I know Bleak House is a favourite with Dickens fans, and as something of a Dickens fan myself, I decided to give it a re-read. I did not get on with it two years ago - the plot was too confusing and convoluted, Dickens' attempts at humour were lost on me, and I simply did not connect with any of the characters.

I thought with two years' distance, my feelings towards the book would improve on a second reading. Whilst I enjoyed it marginally more than last time, I still did not like the book on a second reading. For the first 400 pages I felt very invested, but thereafter, around the point where the Smallweeds are introduced, I found myself losing interest again and slogging through the book. There were interesting moments - Tulkinghorn's assassination being one of them - and there were things I liked about the book in isolation. However, as a whole, the novel just does not work for me. I feel like I am missing out on something that loads of other Dickens fans have found in the novel, but having tried twice, I think it is time to retire Bleak House for the time-being.

In June, I read The Warden and Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope, Silas Marner by George Eliot, Yesteryear by Caro Claire Burke and Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte.

I enjoyed Barchester Towers the most. I have just started reading Trollope, and starting with the Barsetshire series seemed like the best idea. I have really enjoyed him. He is arguably funnier than Dickens, with a brilliant, biting, sardonic wit that runs throughout his narrative. His prose style manages to be conversational but vivid and imagistic at the same time, and, for the most part, doesn't condescend to the reader. I loved the strong, forceful female characters like Mrs Proudie and Mrs Quiverful, the sly, conniving Mr Slope, the bewitching Signora Neroni, and the morose but loving Mr Arabin. I was frustrated by Septimus Harding's vacillations and timidity, yet find him deeply sympathetic as a character. The Warden was a fun, relatively light read and a fantastic characterisation of the herd mentality, approximating today's cancel culture, and it segues wonderfully into the plot of Barchester Towers.

I liked but did not love Eliot's Silas Marner. To me, all her novels will always pale in comparison with Middlemarch, and I could not avoid the parallels between Silas Marner and her masterpiece, and see the former as an apprentice work more than anything. I identified strongly with Silas, the eternal outcast, united with the community by the miraculous appearance of Effie at his fireplace. Silas' transformation from lonely miser to doting father is perhaps a bit too sudden and syrupy to be fully convincing, but it remains a deeply absorbing and moving story, and I enjoyed the portrayal of rural English life and the dialectical relationship between Silas' emotional growth and the dynamics of the community in which he is embedded.

I have decidedly mixed feelings about Agnes Grey. It is an engrossing study of the plight of governesses in Victorian society, yet the narrator's one-dimensional characterisation, larded with heavy-handed appeals to religion and self-righteous fulmination and judgement of all the people around her, was irritating. The moral of the novel is a deeply unsubtle one. Be a good Christian woman like Agnes and you will be rewarded with a good husband like Mr Weston. If you are a 'bad' woman like Rosalie, you will be punished with a bad husband. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (which I have just re-read) is certainly the superior work, but it suffers from the same 'just-world-fallacy' moralism and escapist revenge fantasies. Anne Bronte's prose style is full of lyrical Romantic descriptions of nature that are truly a pleasure to read, however cliched and syrupy they may seem to a contemporary reader.

Just checking to see if I am unusually resilient, addicted, or just plain nuts? I see nothing on Reddit about anyone using it for anywhere near that length of time.

For more context, I am 27m, 5"7, black, and I think average-looking, and live in London. I have used Hinge mainly for the last few years. I have tweaked my pics and prompts endlessly. I have even paid periodically for premium. No difference. (I tend to filter for between 23-30.) I have resigned myself to the near-impossibility of finding anyone through online dating. Speed dating has proven just as big a waste of time - just with extra effort and cost required to pay for a ticket, dress up, travel into central London and speak to a bunch of random women, none of who ever match with me.

I am exploring other options. Admittedly, most of my free time is spent reading in my room. I am working to change that. I don't have a friend group of any meaningful kind that I can meet anyone through. Work is not an option for me either. I dabbled in rock climbing for a bit but lost interest. I recently have attended a couple of 5k runs going on in London to meet people. I volunteer every Sunday in an Oxfam charity store. I am thinking of getting into hiking. (Not into clubbing or bars I am afraid.) I have recently attended a chick-lit bookclub, joined a poetry group near me in East London that meets monthly, and I am looking to join a classic literature bookclub too (though admittedly the demographics for these rarely skew towards people my age).

It gets to me, though I am a mentally strong person. I am very well-read in history, politics, philosophy and classic literature, I have great dress sense, I can sing, I am good at foreign languages, I am great at public speaking - but I am a complete failure where romance is concerned. Still, I intend to cope with whatever the future brings. I can only try. I am sure I will be blasted on here for either being "desperate" or not trying hard enough, but you can't win with all the people all the time.