Timeless Classics: A Tale of Two Cities

I just completed reading the timeless classic, A Tale of Two Cities, arguably the best-known work of Charles Dickens, the prolific genius of English literature. The novel was published in 1859, a century before my birth year. I first heard of it when I was in junior high school. It was so famous that I tried reading a Chinese translation, but I abandoned my attempt because I couldn't understand it after the first few pages. 

Having embarked on my self-learning journey in English literature three years ago, I have finally finished reading this masterpiece of Dickens. This is the fifth Dickensian novel I have read. The insights I gained from the novel and extended reading were so profound that I can not express them all in words. In this blog I'll just record some low-hanging fruits that I picked.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."—the iconic opening lines are even better known than the novel's title itself. I can't help but quote the entire opening paragraph, which I can now fully appreciate after reading the novel:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

I love Dickens' portrayal of every single character in the novel. Amazingly, I found the supporting characters the most interesting.

The first is Jerry Cruncher, a poor Englishman whose daytime job is as a messenger for Tellson’s Bank in London. At night, however, he has a secret part-time job as a grave robber. During one of his grave-robbing escapades, he discovers the fake burial of Roger Cly, an English spy. This discovery is crucial in exposing John Barsad, who subsequently helps Sydney Carton complete his seemingly impossible mission.

The second character is Doctor Manette, Lucie’s father and a brilliant physician. He uncovers the deaths of a young couple and their brother, which involve the twin brothers of Marquis Evremonde, cruel French aristocrats. To cover up their crime, the Evremondes arrange for Doctor Manette to be imprisoned in the Bastille for eighteen years, during which he does nothing but make shoes—a craft he adopts to distract himself from the horrors of prison. With the love and care of his daughter Lucie, Doctor Manette overcomes his traumatic past and proves to be a devoted father who values her happiness above all else.

The third character is Madame Defarge, who impresses me the most. She's a cruel revolutionary whose hatred of the aristocracy fuels her tireless crusade, spending a good deal of the novel knitting a register of everyone who must die for the revolutionary cause. Driven by the memory of her victimized family, Madame Defarge is exceptionally bloodthirsty, and her lust for vengeance knows no bounds. However, she is unexpectedly killed during a struggle with Miss Pross, the tough English servant who raised Lucie and is fiercely loyal to her mistress.

The tumbrils carrying the condemned to the guillotine are another iconic image, showcasing the Reign of Terror in the background. It is portrayed repeatedly in many chapters, allowing me to vividly envision the horrific scene and feel the terror as well.

The next character is John Barsad, another English spy whose true identity is Solomon Pross, the younger brother of Miss Pross. Barsad first appears to be an insignificant, somewhat vicious character, but later, he plays a vital role in carrying out Sydney Carton’s plan.

Lastly, I was fascinated by Sydney Carton, an insolent, indifferent, and alcoholic attorney who loves Lucie. Carton has no real prospects in life and does not seek any. He and Darnay, Lucie’s husband, look alike but are polar opposites in many ways. However, his unconditional love for Lucie eventually transforms him into a man of profound merit, as he sacrifices himself to save Darnay, Lucie, and their child. His transformation symbolizes sacrifice, redemption, and resurrection, making the novel a timeless classic.

The novel ends with Carton’s final words, quoted below, in a way as inspiring as its opening lines:

“I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a man winning his way up in that path of life which once was mine. I see him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him, fore-most of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name, with a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place—then fair to look upon, with not a trace of this day’s disfigurement—and I hear him tell the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice.

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”

Through this novel and extended reading, I gained many insights into the history of the French Revolution.

Reading a rare, lighthearted passage—"Perhaps George Washington might gain almost as great a name in history as George the Third"—I was prompted to envision the revolution led by Washington on the other side of the Atlantic. Interestingly, both Georges are well known today—one for losing the American colony and the other for founding a new United States.

The term ancien régime has puzzled me for a long time. Now I understand that it represented the political and social system of the Kingdom of France, which the French Revolution overturned. The feudal system of the French nobility was abolished in 1790, followed by the execution of King Louis XVI in 1792. More broadly, ancien régime is now a common metaphor for "a system or mode no longer prevailing."

Now, I can imagine how chaotic the years following the revolution were. This period, known as the First French Republic, was divided into three sub-periods: the National Convention, the Directory, and the Consulate. Unbelievably drastic changes took place during the First French Republic, culminating in the Napoleonic Wars and ending with the declaration of the First French Empire.

Maximilien Robespierre was arguably the best-known politician of the First French Republic, given the primary role he played during the Reign of Terror. As I looked into it more closely, I was surprised by how young he was—only 36 years old when he was executed on July 28, 1794. This moment in history, known as the Fall of Maximilien Robespierre, marked the end of the Reign of Terror.

 

I also learned about the contemporary political landscape dominated by the Jacobins, a political club founded in Brittany that later split into the opposing factions of the Montagnards and the Girondins. This knowledge is not just educational but also valuable for my future self-study of French history and literature.

Finally, I was flabbergasted to learn more details about the French Republican calendar, a system created during the French Revolution to replace the Gregorian calendar. The calendar was used for about 12 years by the First French Republic and for 18 days by the Paris Commune in 1871. It was partly designed to eliminate all religious and royalist influences.

It's also part of a larger attempt at dechristianisation and decimalisation in France: the latter includes decimal time of day, and decimalisation of currency and metrication. It was used in government records in France and other areas under French rule, including Belgium, Luxembourg, and parts of the Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Malta, and Italy. These changes were so radical that they still sound unbelievable now--230 years later.