Wednesday, 11 March 2015

Bleak House by Charles Dickens Part #9


OK. So. Big reveal in this segment. All suspicions/guess work/stabs in the dark about a certain heroine’s parentage have all been proved true or false by the end of this week’s reading.

This had me a bit tight chested (nothing at all to do with the chest infection I have working on me as I write this I assure you :)). The sheer isolation and grief experienced while not gone into with a great deal of detail was just so sad.

“Words, sobs and cries, are but air; and air is so shut in and shut out throughout the house in town, that sound needs to be uttered trumpet-tongued indeed by my Lady on her chamber, to carry any faint vibration to Sir Leicester’s ears, and yet this cry is in the house, going upward from a wild figure on its knees.
‘O my child, my child! Not dead in the first hours of her life as my cruel sister told me; but sternly nurtured by her after she had renounced me and my name! O my child, O my child!’”

In other points, My Tulkinghorn continues his investigation about the mysterious (not so anymore to us) handwriting. The guy is in serious need of a hobby. Or a girlfriend. I am sure that there is some lonely buxom landlady somewhere who is just waiting for her very own Mr T…sorry. Moving on.
So yeah, he is still on the scent of the mystery and draws poor Mr George in to things too.

Mrs Rouncewell’s son pays a visit to the Deadlock too. And yes, that goes as well as could be expected.

See you next week when we’ll be onto the 30s. 

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