Goodlad cautions against reading Bleak House as an unequivocal endorsement of institutionalized
paternalism, stating that the novel “testifies to the diminished power of
modern individuals, without clearly seeking… collective alternatives to the
individual’s limited capabilities” (526).
Our consensus in class—if we arrived at one at all—seemed to be that the
sentiments Goodlad attributes to the Dickens of Bleak House are not applicable to his detective journalism, wherein
he expresses frank admiration for the institutional paternalism of the police
force. These works appear to be kinda (if not completely) hegemonic, and not
particularly subversive. But I wonder whether we might reconsider our reading
of “The Metropolitan Protectives” through the lens of Goodlad’s analysis.
Clearly this piece exemplifies what she calls “Dickens’s
growing skepticism to the myth of English self-reliance” in its mocking
treatment of a populace that worries of police corruption, “the overthrow of
the British Constitution” and “gangs of burglars” (97), yet enlists the police
force in the recovery of its misplaced dogs and pats of butter. However I
wonder whether Dickens’s convictions as to the decline of the English
individual necessarily imply an endorsement of the police as a mechanism of the
positive state. Is there not also some mockery in the wordplay of his title? If
we view London through the metaphor of the household, the police force here
occupies the role of governess to the teeming hordes of incompetent children
that are the city’s residents. Read in concert with the self-satisfied self-reporting
of “A Detective Police Party” and “Three Detectives’ Anecdotes,” this mundane
and trivial “protective” work casts the police force in a less than heroic, if
not necessarily wholly unflattering light. There is not, as in the other
pieces, a single charismatic detective figure here—perhaps because citizenry so
incompetent doesn’t demand one.
It must of course be observed that this piece is co-authored
and cannot, as such, be read as a clear step in the evolution of Dickens’s
thought on the issue of state-sanctioned paternalism. We might nonetheless use
it to test our understanding of the detective figure. Does a satisfying
detective novel depend on the complement of worthy adversaries in the form of
self-reliant and self-interested citizens? Do we admire Holmes more when his faculties are
challenged by Irene Adler or Moriarty? Or is the genre itself indicative of a
desire for order in a decayed and incompetent society?
It seems to me that in our study of detective fiction, these articles would best be read not as indications of Dickens's convictions (who knows what they actually were, or if we should look for them in his journalism rather than his novels, or if he was, in all of his writing, mostly trying to, as he claimed in the preface to Bleak House, "show the romantic side of familiar things?") but rather as stages in the development of the figure of the detective-protagonist that would eventually come to preside over his own genre. In that sense, these articles by Dickens's might be illuminating - whatever else he was doing (endorsing a new institution, criticizing the English public, etc.) he was also, given his fame, influentially shaping the public's idea of the detective as figure, as protagonist.
ReplyDeleteLindsay wonders whether a satisfying detective novel depends "on the complement of worthy adversaries in the form of self-reliant and self-interested citizens"? Well, I don't think these detective articles portray many "self-reliant and self-interested citizens" - but I do think we are seeing, in these articles, the development of the idea that a detective needs some kind of "worthy adversary." The first few pieces portray a bumbling, too often drunk citizenry that, as Lindsay notes, is in need of a paternal figure. But the next few, which were written as Dickens was building up his Bleak House, portray increasingly fearsome criminal prey for London's detectives. Field might be able to handle the rough figures he meets in the various boarding houses, but they are certainly more dangerous that any criminals Wield faced - Field has to handle real threats to his safety. And "Pea" in "Down with the Tide," monitors very savvy river criminals, who engage in - to me at least - outlandish plots, like releasing cargo from a ship into the water then dredging it up later. Whether an accurate portrayal of London criminality or not, I think we see Dickens's realizing that, for entertainment value at least, the more dangerous or clever the criminal, the better the detective story.
Michael, I agree with you that in these pieces we see Dickens contributing to the figure of the detective protagonist for the Victorian reading public. In positioning himself as transcriber/reporter/interpreter, he is also setting up the detective as someone who does not narrate his own activity, and who needs to be translated for a broader audience. I don't mean to suggest that Dickens=Watson, but Dickens is occupying the same role of enthusiastic observer to whom the detectives explain the workings of their jobs and minds. Dickens's detectives are by no means as inscrutable as Holmes, his reporting on their behaviour sets the detective up as someone whom readers access through another voice, and another's eyes.
ReplyDeleteI wonder how the transcribing/reporting/interpreting that is being done, both in Dickens and Doyle, is complicated by the passage of time. After reading the DeQuincy, we discussed in class how soon was 'too soon' to write about a real crime, particularly a gruesome or traumatic one, in any way but a journalistic reporting of the immediate facts - that is, when has enough time passed to allow for the aesthetic to creep in? In the "Detective Police Party" the crimes discussed are "a review of the most celebrated and horrible of the great crimes that have been committed within the last fifteen or twenty years." In Doyle, Watson is often relating crimes (or not-crimes) long past... or events that can be committed to paper only once the principle players are dead. Of course the Doyle is fiction and the Dickens is presenting itself as journalism, but the fact that both play with this convention might play into the narration/interpretation necessary for the audience to enjoy the crime as a puzzle rather than a transgression.
DeleteI'm interested in this conversation in light of the one we had in class, in which someone (I forget who - sorry!) said that the reader needs the Dickens "character" to walk with Field, so that the reader understands how dangerous the work really is, even though Field himself is not afraid. I wonder if part of the evolution of the detective character includes admitting that detective work might deaden one's emotions, or mute one's natural reactions. If the detective did narrate, without the expected fear, maybe the reader would be put off, and feel that there was something wrong with a man who does not feel revulsion at the Irish maggots. Because Dickens is there, he reacts in the detective's place, and the reader is able to align herself with the narrator, and simply appreciate the detective's efficiency.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lindsay, for an interesting start to the conversation. Thinking about your comment that Dickens does not produce a "single charismatic [detective] figure," I wonder if part of what he is up to is trying to show the charisma of patience -- that detective work is not art, but rather labor. This ties in with my feeling that Goodlad could not make the same argument about Dickens the journalist that she does about Dickens the author of BLEAK HOUSE. He is famous for criticizing government failures from the Poor Law to Chancery, but throughout in his journalism he is fascinated and mostly positive about ways in which people work together in systems (post office, police force, water and fire companies).
ReplyDeleteI think Dickens does seem to be rather Watsonian in these pieces, often asking a question, needing clarification, and pointing out, as Rose suggests, things about the situation which might require emotion (fear, disapproval) to be registered but not assigned to the detective.
Rose, I liked the idea that the evolution of the detective character might include an admittance that "detective work might deaden one's emotions, or mute one's natural reactions." This reminded me of a particular detective I'd been interested in from our readings last week, the "fresh-complexioned, smooth-faced officer, with the strange air of simplicity" and a "rustic smile," who impersonates a butcher so successfully that the criminals plead for the police not to arrest him, crying that he's just a poor country lad and "butter wouldn't melt in his mouth." This detective's wholesome, seemingly guileless appearance makes him seem more "bobby-like" than "detective-like"; at first he seems endearingly thick and harmless. However, his apparent honesty actually makes for the perfect disguise, and Dickens highlights his (kinda scary?) mutability at the end: "The story done, the chuckle-headed Butcher again resolved himself into the smooth-faced Detective," laughing, because "he was so extremely tickled by their having taken him about, when he was that Dragon in disguise." I found this reversal pretty startling, at the lack of feeling this reveals.
ReplyDeleteI think there would have been a real fear of detectives becoming hardened -- and most would say this fear persists. Popular 18th and 19th century works emphasized how viewing violence debased the spectator (common in anti-slavery works, legal works on punishment, even temperance works). Critics have made connections between these ideas and the rise of gothic and sentimental fiction (1700s in England and 1800s in the U.S. ... but Stowe is still 1853). The Science (not quite empiricism) of the late 19th century can be expected to break away. Systems become humane... and systems are not the people. Detectives can act emotionless (this might be the professionalism that professor Reitz is commenting on so frequently, a product of the dominant forms of capital and labor), but we are no longer concerned with their debasement. Instead, we're happy it works.
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