:: and the tension builds (chs. 33-40) ::

rose maylie is dying. 

mrs. maylie's words in the face of this anguish are a sweet reminder of the truth: of trust we can take comfort in, even "when troubles assail us, and dangers affright".

        'I have seen enough, too, to know that it is not always the youngest and best who are spared to those that love them; but this should give us comfort in our sorrow; for Heaven is just; and such things teach us, impressively, that there is a brighter world than this; and that the passage to it is speedy. God's will be done! I love her; and He knows how well!'

we pause, for tears to fall. but then...

        Their quick ears caught the sound of an approaching footstep; and they both involuntarily darted to the door, as Mr. Losberne entered. 'What of Rose?' cried the old lady. 'Tell me at once! I can bear it; anything but suspense! Oh, tell me! in the name of Heaven!''You must compose yourself,' said the doctor, supporting her. 'Be calm, my dear ma'am, pray.' 'Let me go, in God's name! My dear child! She is dead! She is dying!' 'No!' cried the doctor, passionately. 'As He is good and merciful, she will live to bless us all, for years to come.'

and tears fall again.

*wipes eyes and laughs a little embarrassedly* I always get worked up at the sentimental parts, you know that. 

   but, as dickens himself notes, "it is the custom on the stage: in all good, murderous melodramas: to present the tragic and the comic scenes, in as regular alternation, as the layers of red and white in a side of streaky, well-cured bacon"; and so we move on from rose's sickbed to... blathers and duff. 

   classic british policemen. 

   gotta love them.

   I think they are summed up -- though you have to have the background of the previous chapters -- in the doctor's comment. 

        The sides and brinks of the ditches, were of damp clay; but in no one place could they discern the print of men's shoes, or the slightest mark which would indicate that any feet had pressed the ground for hours before.        'This is strange!' said Harry.        'Strange!' echoed the doctor. 'Blathers and Duff, themselves, could make nothing of it.'

*pauses for laughter to die down*

changing topics once more, we come to ... monks. (dun dun DUN)

   the man arrives in the scene, on the page, known as "the stranger", until he announces himself -- as the same one whom fagin desired yet dreaded to meet back in chapter 27. we've already met him and seen some of his darkness; here we are confronted with the suspicion of more, of sinister, evil designs on oliver. as he was introduced at first, his outward appearance was all we saw, but not the 'who'. now we again see the outward manifestations of his scheme, but not the 'why'.

    chapter 38 is a marvel of suspense, mystery and intrigue. I love it. this was when I realized that OT wasn't Just Another Persecuted Orphan Story: there's something else going on here, and everyone is involved in it. 

   
   chapter 39: nancy reveals some shocking information about monks. why is he so set on destroying oliver? 
   apparently this penniless orphan has some kind of money coming to him... and monks is oliver's older brother.
   whoa. 
   
   see, isn't dickens incredible?  

- - -

I've been doing a block of eight chapters at one whack (really because the first installment was eight chapters; I had read that far when I started writing. no other reason for the odd breaking points). buuuut I have so much to say about chapters 39-40, focus on nancy, that I'm splitting this section into two posts.

   hey. that only means more time on dickens.