This month marks the 200th anniversary of Charles Dickens’s birth, and the literary world has celebrated this milestone with exhibitions, publications, reams of commentary, and at least one 24-hour reading marathon. This outpouring of interest is not surprising; his novels are among the finest Victorian literary works, blending comedy, tragedy, social commentary, engaging plots, and iconic characters.
But with all that going on, how did Dickens stack up as a writer of romance?
First, it’s worth noting that Dickens’s personal track record as a romantic hero is…not the greatest. Married in 1836 to Catherine Hogarth, he went on to form deep attachments to two of her sisters. One of them died in his arms, and the other actually took his side when, in 1858, he began a relationship with the actress Ellen Ternan and abandoned Catherine. He then proceeded to publish justifications for his actions in newspapers throughout England and the United States.
Now, meditate on that for a minute. Dickens—one of the best-known men in the British Empire, with a sympathetic audience of millions hanging on his every written word—talking trash about the mother of his ten (!!!) children, in a highly public venue, while she—a relative nobody—had no real recourse but to sit there and take it. It would be like George Clooney purchasing a full-page ad in Variety and then going on a 24-hour tweet binge to explain why he had broken up with his girlfriend. No, not Elisabetta, the other one. The cocktail waitress. You know.
In any case: Dick move, Charles.
Within that context, it’s probably not surprising that Dickens isn’t best-known for the romantic relationships in his novels, but they’re in there, and as we celebrate this brilliant writer/monstrous cad’s birthday, it’s worth taking a closer look at a few of these. Here, in order of publication, are my top five.
David Copperfield, 1849-1850
The most personal and autobiographical of Dickens’s novels, David Copperfield is a straightforward coming-of-age story. David actually has two romances and two wives. The first, Dora, is sweet but empty-headed, and drives David near to distraction with her dim-bulb ways. She conveniently dies and David enters into a much more satisfying union with his landlord’s level-headed daughter Agnes.
Notable Adaptation: A BBC miniseries in 1999 features a very young Daniel Radcliffe as the Young David. (Adorable!) The adult David is played by Ciarán McMenamin; Amanda Ryan is Agnes, and Dora is portrayed by Joanna Page, best known as one half of the porn couple in Love Actually. (A Hallmark Channel production starring Hugh Dancy followed in 2000.)
Bleak House, 1852-1853
This complex novel—I can’t possibly do the plot justice here so I won’t even try—includes a love triangle of sorts. Heroine Esther Summerson has promised to marry her kind-hearted guardian, John Jarndyce, but she’s in love with a poor-but-proud doctor named Allan Woodcourt. Will her sense of duty, Woodcourt’s snobbish mother, and her own disfigurement (due to an unfortunate bout with smallpox) stand between Esther and her heart’s desire, or will love—and Jarndyce’s nobility of spirit—carry the day?
Notable Adaptation: A critically-acclaimed miniseries for the BBC premiered in 2005. As Esther and Jarndyce, Anna Maxwell Martin and Denis Lawson knock their respective roles out of the park. Richard Harrington as Woodcourt is fine, but he’s not really in it all that much. This one’s also worth seeing for Gillian Anderson as the tormented Lady Dedlock and Carey Mulligan pre-Shame fame as another one of Jarndyce’s wards.
Little Dorrit, 1855-1857
Amy Dorrit is known as the Child of the Marshalsea, a notorious debtors’ prison where her family has been in residence since before she was born. She falls in love with her employer’s son, Arthur Clennam, unaware that the Dorrits and the Clennams share a sad and tangled history. Fortunes are made and lost, dark secrets are revealed, and many tears are shed before all is said and done.
Notable Adaptation: A 2008 adaptation stars adorable Claire Foy as Amy and velvet-voiced Matthew Macfadyen as Clennam. Dr. Who fans: look for Arthur Darvill (Rory) in a small-ish role as Amy’s dissipated brother.
A Tale of Two Cities, 1859
It’s the best of times and the worst of times when Sydney Carton and Charles Darnay become rivals for the hand of beautiful Lucie Manette against the backdrop of the French Revolution. But when Darnay is sentenced to the guillotine for his revolutionary ways, Carton smuggles him out of prison and is executed in his place. And he does it all for love! Say it with me: “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done…”
Notable Adaptation: Do my eyes deceive me? The IMDB tells me that this famous novel was last adapted for the screen in 1989. Obviously, it’s ripe for a remake. Paging Andrew Davies, STAT!
Our Mutual Friend, 1864-1865
Two love stories, each outrageous in its own way, are featured in Dickens’s last completed novel. In one, John Harmon’s inheritance is predicated upon his marriage to spoiled young Bella Wilfer, whom he has never met. Appalled, but devoted to Bella from afar, he fakes his own death, worms his way into her good graces, and marries her under a false name. Upon learning of his deception, Bella basically laughs it off and says “Well, I was sort of a brat anyway, and you’re totally handsome and noble, so it’s all good!” (…I ask you.) In the other major plot thread, vaguely depressive Eugene Wrayburn develops an unhealthy obsession with a destitute riverman’s daughter, Lizzie Hexam. He fully intends to make her his mistress until a near-death experience (specifically, being beaten within an inch of his life by the other dude who is unhealthily obsessed with poor Lizzie) convinces him to marry her instead.
Notable Adaptation: In yet another BBC production, this one from 1995, former Dr. Who Paul McGann and Keeley Hawes at her most elegantly grubby star as Eugene and Lizzie, while Steven Mackintosh and a baby-faced Anna Friel appear as John and Bella. As problematic as I find the story, I love everything about this miniseries except for the fact that Eugene’s long-suffering best friend Mortimer, portrayed by dishy Dominic Mafham, is still unattached at the end. No offense to Dr. Who, but Lizzie was blind.
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Tell us about your favorite Dickens couples in the comments!
Kate Nagy is Editor at Large of Geek Speak Magazine.
