LITTLE DORRIT

My annual Dickens read, chosen mainly because (a) I hadn’t read it and knew little about it, except that it featured a pyramid scheme, which seemed timely; and (b) I wanted an excuse to watch the Andrew Davies adaptation that had recently aired on Masterpiece Theater (I refuse to start calling it Masterpiece Classic). I’m actually still working on finishing watching the miniseries, but I really liked the book. It was long, and it didn’t thrill me the way Bleak House did, but that was mostly when it strayed too far away from the core compelling story of Little Dorrit and her horrible family. I didn’t like Rigaud as a villain, but I did love the Circumlocution Office, every scene with dialogue from Flora, and the chill-inducing last appearance of Mr. Merdle. I just love Dickens. I’m already trying to decide which one I want to tackle next year; although I do want to revisit some of the ones my dad read to me when I was young (Pickwick Papers, The Old Curiosity Shop, A Tale of Two Cities), there are technically only three major books I have yet to experience: Martin Chuzzlewit, Dombey and Son, and Our Mutual Friend. None of which I know very much about, and all of which seem like the less glamorous entries in the Dickens canon. I am prepared to be pleasantly surprised.