Great Expectations is both a finely crafted novel and an acute examination of Victorian society. Filled with unforgettable settings and characters, it achieves greater dramatic richness through Frank Muller's masterful narration. Dickens supplied two endings to this great work. Both are included in the recording.
|Publisher:||Open Road Media|
|Sold by:||Barnes & Noble|
|File size:||2 MB|
About the Author
An international celebrity during his lifetime, Charles Dickens (1812–1870) is widely regarded as the greatest novelist of the Victorian era. His classic works include A Christmas Carol, Oliver Twist, David Copperfield, Great Expectations, and A Tale of Two Cities, one of the bestselling novels of all time. When Dickens was twelve years old, his father was sent to debtors’ prison, and the boy was forced to work in a boot-blacking factory to support his family. The experience greatly shaped both his fiction and his tireless advocacy for children’s rights and social reform.
Date of Birth:February 7, 1812
Date of Death:June 18, 1870
Place of Birth:Portsmouth, England
Place of Death:Gad's Hill, Kent, England
Education:Home-schooling; attended Dame School at Chatham briefly and Wellington
Read an Excerpt
By Charles Dickens
OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIACopyright © 2015 Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
All rights reserved.
MY FATHER'S FAMILY NAME being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip.
I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his tombstone and my sister,—Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription, "Also Georgiana Wife of the Above," I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine,—who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle,—I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of existence.
Ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river wound, twenty miles of the sea. My first most vivid and broad impression of the identity of things seems to me to have been gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. At such a time I found out for certain that this bleak place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; and that Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dikes and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond was the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was Pip.
"Hold your noise!" cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from among the graves at the side of the church porch. "Keep still, you little devil, or I'll cut your throat!"
A fearful man, all in coarse gray, with a great iron on his leg. A man with no hat, and with broken shoes, and with an old rag tied round his head. A man who had been soaked in water, and smothered in mud, and lamed by stones, and cut by flints, and stung by nettles, and torn by briars; who limped, and shivered, and glared, and growled; and whose teeth chattered in his head as he seized me by the chin.
"Oh! Don't cut my throat, sir," I pleaded in terror. "Pray don't do it, sir."
"Tell us your name!" said the man. "Quick!"
"Once more," said the man, staring at me. "Give it mouth!"
"Pip. Pip, sir."
"Show us where you live," said the man. "Pint out the place!"
I pointed to where our village lay, on the flat in-shore among the alder-trees and pollards, a mile or more from the church.
The man, after looking at me for a moment, turned me upside down, and emptied my pockets. There was nothing in them but a piece of bread. When the church came to itself,—for he was so sudden and strong that he made it go head over heels before me, and I saw the steeple under my feet,—when the church came to itself, I say, I was seated on a high tombstone, trembling while he ate the bread ravenously.
"You young dog," said the man, licking his lips, "what fat cheeks you ha' got."
I believe they were fat, though I was at that time undersized for my years, and not strong.
"Darn me if I couldn't eat em," said the man, with a threatening shake of his head, "and if I han't half a mind to't!"
I earnestly expressed my hope that he wouldn't, and held tighter to the tombstone on which he had put me; partly, to keep myself upon it; partly, to keep myself from crying.
"Now lookee here!" said the man. "Where's your mother?"
"There, sir!" said I.
He started, made a short run, and stopped and looked over his shoulder.
"There, sir!" I timidly explained. "Also Georgiana. That's my mother."
"Oh!" said he, coming back. "And is that your father alonger your mother?"
"Yes, sir," said I; "him too; late of this parish."
"Ha!" he muttered then, considering. "Who d'ye live with,—supposin' you're kindly let to live, which I han't made up my mind about?"
"My sister, sir,—Mrs. Joe Gargery,—wife of Joe Gargery, the blacksmith, sir."
"Blacksmith, eh?" said he. And looked down at his leg.
After darkly looking at his leg and me several times, he came closer to my tombstone, took me by both arms, and tilted me back as far as he could hold me; so that his eyes looked most powerfully down into mine, and mine looked most helplessly up into his.
"Now lookee here," he said, "the question being whether you're to be let to live. You know what a file is?"
"And you know what wittles is?"
After each question he tilted me over a little more, so as to give me a greater sense of helplessness and danger.
"You get me a file." He tilted me again. "And you get me wittles." He tilted me again. "You bring 'em both to me." He tilted me again. "Or I'll have your heart and liver out." He tilted me again.
I was dreadfully frightened, and so giddy that I clung to him with both hands, and said, "If you would kindly please to let me keep upright, sir, perhaps I shouldn't be sick, and perhaps I could attend more."
He gave me a most tremendous dip and roll, so that the church jumped over its own weathercock. Then, he held me by the arms, in an upright position on the top of the stone, and went on in these fearful terms:—
"You bring me, to-morrow morning early, that file and them wittles. You bring the lot to me, at that old Battery over yonder. You do it, and you never dare to say a word or dare to make a sign concerning your having seen such a person as me, or any person sumever, and you shall be let to live. You fail, or you go from my words in any partickler, no matter how small it is, and your heart and your liver shall be tore out, roasted, and ate. Now, I ain't alone, as you may think I am. There's a young man hid with me, in comparison with which young man I am a Angel. That young man hears the words I speak. That young man has a secret way pecooliar to himself, of getting at a boy, and at his heart, and at his liver. It is in wain for a boy to attempt to hide himself from that young man. A boy may lock his door, may be warm in bed, may tuck himself up, may draw the clothes over his head, may think himself comfortable and safe, but that young man will softly creep and creep his way to him and tear him open. I am a keeping that young man from harming of you at the present moment, with great difficulty. I find it wery hard to hold that young man off of your inside. Now, what do you say?"
I said that I would get him the file, and I would get him what broken bits of food I could, and I would come to him at the Battery, early in the morning.
"Say Lord strike you dead if you don't!" said the man.
I said so, and he took me down.
"Now," he pursued, "you remember what you've undertook, and you remember that young man, and you get home!"
"Goo-good night, sir," I faltered.
"Much of that!" said he, glancing about him over the cold wet flat. "I wish I was a frog. Or a eel!"
At the same time, he hugged his shuddering body in both his arms,—clasping himself, as if to hold himself together,—and limped towards the low church wall. As I saw him go, picking his way among the nettles, and among the brambles that bound the green mounds, he looked in my young eyes as if he were eluding the hands of the dead people, stretching up cautiously out of their graves, to get a twist upon his ankle and pull him in.
When he came to the low church wall, he got over it, like a man whose legs were numbed and stiff, and then turned round to look for me. When I saw him turning, I set my face towards home, and made the best use of my legs. But presently I looked over my shoulder, and saw him going on again towards the river, still hugging himself in both arms, and picking his way with his sore feet among the great stones dropped into the marshes here and there, for stepping-places when the rains were heavy or the tide was in.
The marshes were just a long black horizontal line then, as I stopped to look after him; and the river was just another horizontal line, not nearly so broad nor yet so black; and the sky was just a row of long angry red lines and dense black lines intermixed. On the edge of the river I could faintly make out the only two black things in all the prospect that seemed to be standing upright; one of these was the beacon by which the sailors steered,—like an unhooped cask upon a pole,—an ugly thing when you were near it; the other, a gibbet, with some chains hanging to it which had once held a pirate. The man was limping on towards this latter, as if he were the pirate come to life, and come down, and going back to hook himself up again. It gave me a terrible turn when I thought so; and as I saw the cattle lifting their heads to gaze after him, I wondered whether they thought so too. I looked all round for the horrible young man, and could see no signs of him. But now I was frightened again, and ran home without stopping.CHAPTER 2
MY SISTER, MRS. JOE Gargery, was more than twenty years older than I, and had established a great reputation with herself and the neighbors because she had brought me up "by hand." Having at that time to find out for myself what the expression meant, and knowing her to have a hard and heavy hand, and to be much in the habit of laying it upon her husband as well as upon me, I supposed that Joe Gargery and I were both brought up by hand.
She was not a good-looking woman, my sister; and I had a general impression that she must have made Joe Gargery marry her by hand. Joe was a fair man, with curls of flaxen hair on each side of his smooth face, and with eyes of such a very undecided blue that they seemed to have somehow got mixed with their own whites. He was a mild, good-natured, sweet-tempered, easy-going, foolish, dear fellow,—a sort of Hercules in strength, and also in weakness.
My sister, Mrs. Joe, with black hair and eyes, had such a prevailing redness of skin that I sometimes used to wonder whether it was possible she washed herself with a nutmeg-grater instead of soap. She was tall and bony, and almost always wore a coarse apron, fastened over her figure behind with two loops, and having a square impregnable bib in front, that was stuck full of pins and needles. She made it a powerful merit in herself, and a strong reproach against Joe, that she wore this apron so much. Though I really see no reason why she should have worn it at all; or why, if she did wear it at all, she should not have taken it off, every day of her life.
Joe's forge adjoined our house, which was a wooden house, as many of the dwellings in our country were,—most of them, at that time. When I ran home from the churchyard, the forge was shut up, and Joe was sitting alone in the kitchen. Joe and I being fellow-sufferers, and having confidences as such, Joe imparted a confidence to me, the moment I raised the latch of the door and peeped in at him opposite to it, sitting in the chimney corner.
"Mrs. Joe has been out a dozen times, looking for you, Pip. And she's out now, making it a baker's dozen."
"Yes, Pip," said Joe; "and what's worse, she's got Tickler with her."
At this dismal intelligence, I twisted the only button on my waistcoat round and round, and looked in great depression at the fire. Tickler was a wax-ended piece of cane, worn smooth by collision with my tickled frame.
"She sot down," said Joe, "and she got up, and she made a grab at Tickler, and she Rampaged out. That's what she did," said Joe, slowly clearing the fire between the lower bars with the poker, and looking at it; "she Ram-paged out, Pip."
"Has she been gone long, Joe?" I always treated him as a larger species of child, and as no more than my equal.
"Well," said Joe, glancing up at the Dutch clock, "she's been on the Ram-page, this last spell, about five minutes, Pip. She's a coming! Get behind the door, old chap, and have the jack-towel betwixt you."
I took the advice. My sister, Mrs. Joe, throwing the door wide open, and finding an obstruction behind it, immediately divined the cause, and applied Tickler to its further investigation. She concluded by throwing me—I often served as a connubial missile—at Joe, who, glad to get hold of me on any terms, passed me on into the chimney and quietly fenced me up there with his great leg.
"Where have you been, you young monkey?" said Mrs. Joe, stamping her foot. "Tell me directly what you've been doing to wear me away with fret and fright and worrit, or I'd have you out of that corner if you was fifty Pips, and he was five hundred Gargerys."
"I have only been to the churchyard," said I, from my stool, crying and rubbing myself.
"Churchyard!" repeated my sister. "If it warn't for me you'd have been to the churchyard long ago, and stayed there. Who brought you up by hand?" "You did," said I.
"And why did I do it, I should like to know?" exclaimed my sister.
I whimpered, "I don't know."
"I don't!" said my sister. "I'd never do it again! I know that. I may truly say I've never had this apron of mine off since born you were. It's bad enough to be a blacksmith's wife (and him a Gargery) without being your mother."
My thoughts strayed from that question as I looked disconsolately at the fire. For the fugitive out on the marshes with the ironed leg, the mysterious young man, the file, the food, and the dreadful pledge I was under to commit a larceny on those sheltering premises, rose before me in the avenging coals.
"Hah!" said Mrs. Joe, restoring Tickler to his station. "Churchyard, indeed! You may well say churchyard, you two." One of us, by the by, had not said it at all. "You'll drive me to the churchyard betwixt you, one of these days, and O, a pr-r-recious pair you'd be without me!"
As she applied herself to set the tea-things, Joe peeped down at me over his leg, as if he were mentally casting me and himself up, and calculating what kind of pair we practically should make, under the grievous circumstances foreshadowed. After that, he sat feeling his right-side flaxen curls and whisker, and following Mrs. Joe about with his blue eyes, as his manner always was at squally times.
My sister had a trenchant way of cutting our bread and butter for us, that never varied. First, with her left hand she jammed the loaf hard and fast against her bib,—where it sometimes got a pin into it, and sometimes a needle, which we afterwards got into our mouths. Then she took some butter (not too much) on a knife and spread it on the loaf, in an apothecary kind of way, as if she were making a plaster,—using both sides of the knife with a slapping dexterity, and trimming and moulding the butter off round the crust. Then, she gave the knife a final smart wipe on the edge of the plaster, and then sawed a very thick round off the loaf: which she finally, before separating from the loaf, hewed into two halves, of which Joe got one, and I the other.
On the present occasion, though I was hungry, I dared not eat my slice. I felt that I must have something in reserve for my dreadful acquaintance, and his ally the still more dreadful young man. I knew Mrs. Joe's housekeeping to be of the strictest kind, and that my larcenous researches might find nothing available in the safe. Therefore I resolved to put my hunk of bread and butter down the leg of my trousers.
Excerpted from Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. Copyright © 2015 Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
|Chronology of Charles Dickens's Life and Work||xv|
|Historical Context of Great Expectations||xvii|
|The Original Ending of Great Expectations||599|
|Questions for Discussion||631|
|Suggestions for the Interested Reader||633|
What People are Saying About This
Observe how finely the narrative is kept in one key. It begins with a mournful impessionthe foggy marshes spreading drearily by the seaward Thamesand throughout recurs this effect of cold and damp and dreariness; in that kind Dickens never did anything so good.... No story in the first person was ever better told.
Winner of the 2012 Fifty Books/Fifty Covers show, organized by Design Observer in association with AIGA and Designers & Books
Winner of the 2014 Type Directors Club Communication Design Award
Praise for Penguin Drop Caps:
"[Penguin Drop Caps] convey a sense of nostalgia for the tactility and aesthetic power of a physical book and for a centuries-old tradition of beautiful lettering."
“Vibrant, minimalist new typographic covers…. Bonus points for the heartening gender balance of the initial selections.”
—Maria Popova, Brain Pickings
"The Penguin Drop Caps series is a great example of the power of design. Why buy these particular classics when there are less expensive, even free editions of Great Expectations? Because they’re beautiful objects. Paul Buckley and Jessica Hische’s fresh approach to the literary classics reduces the design down to typography and color. Each cover is foil-stamped with a cleverly illustrated letterform that reveals an element of the story. Jane Austen’s A (Pride and Prejudice) is formed by opulent peacock feathers and Charlotte Bronte’s B (Jane Eyre) is surrounded by flames. The complete set forms a rainbow spectrum prettier than anything else on your bookshelf."
—Rex Bonomelli, The New York Times
"Classic reads in stunning covers—your book club will be dying."
Great Expectations is the first novel I read that made me wish I had written it; it is the novel that made me want to be a novelistspecifically, to move a reader as I was moved then. I believe that Great Expectations has the most wonderful and most perfectly worked-out plot for a novel in the English language; at the same time, it never deviates from its intention to move you to laugher and tears.
Observe how finely the narrative is kept in one key. It begins with a mournful impessionthe foggy marshes spreading drearily by the seaward Thamesand throughout recurs this effect of cold and damp and dreariness; in that kind Dickens never did anything so good.... No story in the first person was ever better told.
Reading Group Guide
Pip, a poor orphan being raised by a cruel sister, does not have much in the way of great expectations between his terrifying experience in a graveyard with a convict named Magwitch and his humiliating visits with the eccentric Miss Havisham's beautiful but manipulative niece, Estella, who torments him until he is elevated to wealth by an anonymous benefactor. Full of unforgettable characters, Great Expectations is a tale of intrigue, unattainable love, and all of the happiness money can't buy. Great Expectations has the most wonderful and most perfectly worked-out plot for a novel in the English language, according to John Irving, and J. Hillis Miller declares, Great Expectations is the most unified and concentrated expression of Dickens's abiding sense of the world, and Pip might be called the archetypal Dickens hero.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
As an eighth grader, I don't understand why some teens dislike this novel. Is it just because it's a bit longer than we are used to? For me, it is an outstanding classic. Pip faces problems that we still face today-our high expectations, our unsatisfying results. Admittedly, the novel is a bit long, but without the text it holds, we would never be able to truly grasp the theme Charles Dickens is trying to convey. Each detail, each scene, each chapter adds more to our understanding. I feel like I am there with Pip as the story progresses. The length of the book plays a key point in the novel, for it leads the reader through Pip's life, the good and the bad. Reading the book carefully allows the reader to really understand what Pip has been through, and how he compensates. This novel is a stunning classic, and will remain my favorite book.
Great Expectations was required reading material in high school back in the 1980's. And as a result has become one of my all time favorite classic works by Charles Dickens. Charles Dickens was such an excellent writer that he made the charaters come to life. This is one of those classics that you absolutely cannot put it down until you have finished it. As you start reading Great Expectations you feel like you are accompanying Pip on his journey through life. With the sounds, sights, and smells. Experienceing the ups and downs, that life has to offer. For instance lifes's humble beginnings, the twists and turns, and a very humgle ending.Starting life as he did Pip was not happy with his beginnings in life and always wanting more. From meeting unstable individuals in the prohibited marshes while playing, manners being tought from an old, rich, bitter woman, to the most unlikey of unnamed benifactors that you are likely to meet. To be making a move to London to go to school, being able to make friends with influentual individuals and experiencing who they live, and some people that are even simple in how they view life and just trying to get by as best they can. Pip did a wonderful very unselfish thing when he anominoulsy helped a friend reach his life long goals, for instance becoming part owner of a business, marrying the one he loves and having family. Which in the real world would never happen. The ending, I thought could have been left on a better note than it was. Great Expectations is a good book for the old addage "Be careful what you wish for". The out come of such wishes may or may not be what you expected.
I first read this book in the eighth grade, and, upon reading the first line, I feel in love. I have always loved reading, and Charles Dickens never fails to entertain. He creates characters so life-like and real that you feel like you have known them all you life. You can really identify with these characters that are so abstract and complicated, yet so simple and heart-warming. Pip is such a dynamic character,and you really feel for him as he falls in love for the first time and tries to live up to the Great Expectations set for him. I love it.
Although the STORY itself is a great classic, this free version has formatting problems that made it difficult for me to follow along, even as my daughter read aloud from a print copy. After a few pages, I went back online and paid 99 cents- and now can actually read the book!
It is an exceptional book. Charles Dickens uses the words as if he were a dictionary. Excellent control of superb words. It is amzaing how the rising action and falling action happens.
Not even going to write a real review im just going to list reasons why its is the best piece of Literature on God's green earth 1. it is the best piece of literature on god's green earth 2. it is the best piece of literature on god's green earth 3. it is the best piece of literature on god's green earth Go buy it unless you are a total commy
This beautifully written novel absolutely deserves its place as one of the crown jewels of Dickens' many works. It is very smoothly written however is somewhat dense and is therefore required to be read rather slowly to be digested properly. I would only recommend this book to those whom I know have the intellectual capability and the stamina to keep up with this rigorous work. Overall stupendous.
I'm currently a senior, and while I was not required to read this book, I had enjoyed Tale of Two cities by Charles Dickens, and had heard good things about Great Expectations from my father and a good friend. Many classics, while great books, don't always hook me and draw me in. This book did. Many are of the opinion that this book is very dark and brooding. It is a story with many dark and gritty elements to it, but when I read it, I didn't get the sense that the mood was dark and sober just for the sake of it. Rather I think Dickens was portraying just how harsh the world can be, and the corruption and selfishness that many people possess in pursuit of riches, property and status. In many ways, the journey of Pip reflects a story almost the same as that of the prodigal son. It's about a young man who feels restless and discontent with how life is, and feels that the pursuit of a greater life, status and riches are needed in order to gain happiness, and the woman he loves. Yet in the end, after all his expectations vanish into thin air and he's left worse than he was before, it's the family that he left in the pursuit of his expectations that pay his debts, and receive him with the same love they had for him before. Another side to this story that gripped me was his relationship with Miss Havisham and Estella. Miss Havisham is the living result of just how deeply a human heart can be hurt and broken by the cruelty of someone who they thought loved them, and how when we hold on to that hurt and brokenness, never forgetting or forgiving it ends up destroying us, and even more tragic cause us to hurt others in the same way. Which is what Miss Havisham does to Estella by raising her and teaching her to be a heartless woman who does not even comprehend love, and what Estella does to Pip by rejecting him and using him. Yet what amazed me most is even when Pip had every reason to rage and be consumed by anger and bitterness against Estella, he never stopped loving her, and resolved to remember her well even though she had thrown away his love. And even though Miss Havisham is responsible for Estella's heartlessness and now in a way his own heart being broken, he chooses to forgive her. Just the raw strength of this story left me amazed. I highly recommend it.
To enter Honors English, i was required to read Great Expectations. My first thought, and the thought of many other teens, was oh great, a lengthy book using old English vocabulary But i was surprised, i actually enjoyed it. It does get weak in some parts, but its a great piece of Literature.
After a couple of chapters, you might begin to feel disappointed and want to quit reading it. Don't! You will be amazed at the suspense you feel and how interested you are in the characters. I also thought it was so clever how Dickens tied everything together, in little ways that you'd never have thought of. When I finished reading, I felt satisfied. I recommend this book.
Great Expectations is truly a masterpiece. Dickens has given the reader the life of Pip, a poor boy of no real expectations until chance affords him the opportunity to become someone of means. Dickens has created a character of such great depth that I grew to love the man Pip. Pip’s growth, his ability to convey feeling and his own acceptance of weakness in himself and others touched my heart. Yes it is a slow read but don't be discouraged. It's a treasure. When I recommend the Nook to anyone I always give as one reason the classics. Reading the classics on a Nook is much easier with the flexibility to change the font and the small size of the Nook itself leaving the reader less overwhelmed.
If you start reading this book and realize that there is a lot that could be cut out of it then you will probably enjoy it more. When I first started reading this book I couldn't believe how boring it was. Once I started getting into it, however, my opinion changed entirely. I didn't want to stop reading. Then there were some more dry chapters and I couldn't maintain interest. Then this book suddenly made me think I had been reading a mystery the whole time. It brought back details I didn't even think about. Everything came together and ended so well I could not believe how fantastic it was. I would highly recommend this book if you are willing to be bored through certain chapters.
I enjoyed htis much more than Oliver Twist! The characters were complex and facsinating! One thing is it's not the kind of book you can just pick up and read a page. It doesn't just pull you in, you have to focus.
This is a great classic which everyone should read.
This book was forced upon me as summer reading. I struggled throught it. I had to reference to spark notes and the movie (something I NEVER do). But after I could get throught the writing style and look back on the story and the characters I sort of fell in love with it. So for a free read NO. But as for something analitical an absolute yes!
I found this book really well written. I personally recommend the unabridged version. After you get to understand the was he writes and the old english you will really enjoy it.
I thought this book was boring at first but then it got better and better with a bunch of events being thrown at you all at the same time. With every event unexpected you never know whats going to happen next. I reccomend this book to anyone from 3rd grade to 12th that likes the unexpected.
i was required to read this in 9th grade english honors, and since then it has become my favorite book of all time. pip is such a classically heartbreaking character, and everyone can find some instance where they can relate to him. i found the unrequited-love theme to be so tragically fascinating. estella's cruelty and superiority complex are so common among people these days, that although the book was written 150+ years ago, everyone can still relate to its classic themes.
Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens, was a very wonderful book to read. I have to admit that it was difficult to get into it at first, but once the story started getting good, I couldn¿t put it down. There were so many twists and surprises that kept me completely compelled. I especially liked how the character, Pip, grew and changed throughout the novel. He didn¿t seem like just a character in a story, he seemed like a real live person in my life. His emotions and actions were so realistic that I felt his pain, his joy, his fear. Another aspect of the novel that I loved was the whole theme and basic moral. It harped upon the idea that loyalty to loved ones is way more important than wealth or social status could ever be. Among other things, these are the reasons why Great Expectations is a truly exceptional novel.
I decided to read this simply out of curiosity, and expected a long, boring, painful book. I was shocked. This kept me completely interested throughout the whole book, and was surprisingly easy to read. The language was not that hard to figure out, and basically, I was extremely pleased. If you think it'll be long and boring, you may be surprised at how fast you'll get through it.
I¿ve read many, many books throughout the years, in a wide variety of genres. Periodically, I try to stretch myself by taking on works that I might not otherwise gravitate toward. Sometimes I am rewarded; that is how I discovered Hemingway and Vasily Grossman (much to my delight). However, I generally read for pleasure and will never be considered an erudite literary critic; in other words, you won¿t find me reading Shakespeare. I recall reading A Tale of Two Cities in high school and to my recollection, enjoying it. With that in mind, I was determined to give Charles Dickens another shot, with the knowledge that if it were to my liking, there would be a wealth of material at my disposal. That is how I came to read Great Expectations.The novel centers on young Pip, an orphan taken in by his domineering older sister and kind, blacksmith husband. Pip is destined for a life as an apprentice blacksmith, a member of the English lower class, until an encounter with an escaped convict radically changes the course of his life. For you see, young Pip harbors ¿great expectations¿ and a life far beyond that set before him. With the help of an anonymous ¿sponsor¿, Pip begins his journey toward life as a gentleman.When reading Dickens, Tolstoy, and even more so Shakespeare, the first hurdle is becoming familiar with the language, the style of writing and the idioms and terms used by writers of the era; even more so with Dickens, where he routinely spells words phonetically when spoken by Cockney British commoners. Somewhat offputting at first, the reader soon becomes comfortable with the style and is amply rewarded and entertained.Having read numerous novels from the period, I was well familiar with the British class system on the mid-19th century, but nowhere is its rigidity more apparent than in this work. Within days of attaining a sponsor, young Pip completely removes himself from his former friends and relatives (both geographically and socially), even expressing embarrassment for having been associated with them. There are several story threads that work themselves together nicely near the end of the novel.Having become reacquainted with Dickens, I fully expect to sample more of his work.
`Great Expectations¿ has been somewhat of a literary journey of discovery. I started with a mild dislike of Dickens as Pip finds himself contemplating the gravestones of his parents. This stemmed from my one abortive attempt at reading `The Pickwick Papers¿My dislike gently fades as Pip embarks on achieving his great expectations introducing some marvellous characters, in particular, Miss Havisham and Wemmick with his Aged P. By the time I find myself reading the chapter entirely devoted to Pip¿s exploration of his feeling for Estella I found myself, thoroughly enjoying, the language, the plot and the characterisations involved. This book is a delight and will be remembered more so as the highway that led to my final understanding and appreciation of 19th Century language and Dickens' work in particular.
The story is about a boy, named Pip, who is raised by his evil sister and Joe her kindhearted husband. They lived in poverty. So when Miss Havisham a rich eccentric woman asks Pip to come to her house just to see him playing and offers some money for it, his family is more than willing to fulfill Miss Havisham¿s wish. She is disillusioned in love; her beautiful stepdaughter, who was raised to break men¿s hearts, is selfish and unable to love anyone. She is a cold-hearted master manipulator. So when Pip sees the girl for the first time he falls in love with her. He doesn¿t hope that she will love him back because he is poor and uneducated, he doesn¿t think he is good enough for her. About the same time there were two escaped convicts from the jail and Pip happens to meet one of them named Magwitch. Pip was frightened after such a meeting and was forced into helping Magwitch to get some food. After Pip helps him, a few days later he finds out that Magwitch is back in jail again. Years later after trying to forget this encounter, an attorney appears at his family¿s house. He introduces himself as the legal representative of a wealthy person who wants to remain anonymous. That person wants to make a gentleman out of Pip, by educate him and leaving him a fortune. Everyone in Pip¿s family is thankful and excited, but wondering who that person could be. The only person they can think of is Miss Havisham, but what a shock when they discover who that person is¿This is quite a thick book, so I needed some time to get the courage to start reading it. I had heard it could be long and boring, but was happy to find it enjoyable and easy to read. I know many people might disagree with me on that, but I think Dickens lovers will appreciate this great novel.
A conflicted tale of courage, loyalty, and love, Great Expectations is an exemplary novel that succeeds in portraying the innocent but heartfelt story of Pip, an orphaned boy taken in by a blacksmith. Dickens beautifully illustrates Pip’s humble beginning. Pip’s father is Joe, a caring, protective figure over Pip, with his shortcoming being in intelligence and wealth. On the other hand, Mrs. Joe is Pip’s stern and insistent mother, more often than not yelling and bossing around Joe and Pip. These simple yet moving characters set up an environment that really allows you to understand Pip’s background. With several different events, Pip’s character is established to be weak and pusillanimous at the start. For example, “The terrors that had assailed me whenever Mrs. Joe had gone near the pantry, or out of the room, were only to be equalled by the remorse with which my mind dwelt on what my hands had done.” Pip clearly is very fearful of his mother Mrs. Joe in this situation, one of which happens to be over stolen food. From this, Dickens wonderfully portrays Pip’s growth over time, slowly breaking out of his cowardly shell. The first major plot point in the book is Pip being brought before Mrs. Havisham, a wealthy elderly lady, to ‘play’ with her step-daughter Estella. From being raised by Mrs. Havisham, Estella has had hammered into to her to have men fall for her and break their hearts. Pip, unfortunately, immediately falls in love, but it is clear he is far from reaching her. Estella is quick to insult Pip about his coarse hands and thick boots, showing to Pip the difference between her and him. Pip feels ashamed of his ‘commoner’ background, but also afraid turn away from his family and who he has grown up as. In the end, Pip makes the bold decision to become a gentleman. Gracefully written, Dickens introduces an incredibly convincing character that plays an impacting role in the story as well as While the book is relatively long, Dickens does not let a page go to waste. From what seemed to be an insignificant encounter with a prison escapee turns out to come a long way, the character revealing himself as the one who had been anonymously sending money to Pip. To even further tie things together, he also turns out to be the wife of Molly, the maid of Jaggers( Pip’s guardian) and Estella’s true mother. While it seems it may be difficult to pull together such an intricate array of characters, Dickens manages to create both a believable story and pour depth into these characters. Excelling in telling the grand narrative of the struggles of a boy raised from an unrefined background as well as fleshing out minor experiences with individual characters of the book, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens is a book well deserving of its place as a classic in literature.
The author came out on an episode of Doctor Who!!!