Hard Times

Book the First: SOWING

Chapter One: The One Thing Needful
This chapter has little narrative content (only three paragraphs), but its
imagery is intense. From the very beginning, Dickens establishes himself
within a contemporary debate on the nature of learning, knowledge and
education. The description of the classroom is definitely satire, a critique
of utilitarianism, and similar philosophies that suggested the absolute
reliance upon calculations and facts in opposition to emotion, artistic
inspiration and leisure.
The novel is divided into three "books" entitled Sowing, Reaping and
Garnering. This agricultural motif is introduced by the "sowing" of facts as
"seeds" into the fertile minds of the young boys and girls. "The one thing
needful" is the seed of "fact" and even though the insistence upon "hard
facts" seems infertile and unyielding, the motif of sowing makes the
classroom a literal kindergarten. To be more precise, the imagery of
"sowing" and horticulture varies from the children as the planted field and
the children as plants themselves. At one point, "the Speaker" charges the
instructor to "plantand root out" in order to form the children's minds.
Later, the children are described as "little vessels then and there arranged
in order," not unlike the wisps of hair on the side of the Speaker's head,
humorously described as "a plantation of firs."
The sum of Dickens' imagery contrasts the words of gardening and
horticulture with the actual scene depicted: "plain, bare,
monotonousinflexible, dry and dictatorial." Dickens means to say that
there is no true sowing taking place in the "vault of a schoolroom." Against
the archetype of youth (spring, sowing, fertility), the older men are
"square;" eyes are described as having "found commodious cellarage in
two dark caves, overshadowed by the wall." Dickens' hyperbole makes
architecture out of the physical description of The Speaker (who seems
rather villain-like). Dickens wants to demonstrate that the idea of the
child's mind as a "vessel" that is "ready to have imperial gallons of facts
poured" this creates adults whose brains are described as mere
"cellarage" space for facts.

While Dickens de-personifies the Speaker (he is more of an object and a

symbol than an actual person), various objects in the schoolroom, in
particular the Speaker's clothing, take on personality and activity of their
own. The Speaker's tie is "trained to take him by the throat with an
unaccommodating grasp." The Speaker has trained the tie to be as
unaccommodating as this school system. The sum of Dickens' images,
from sowing to strangulation, should clearly foreshadow the "hard times"
that are ahead.
The two important allusions to note are both Biblical ones: the use of the
word "sowing" does not only correspond to the old proverb "you reap
what you sow" but it has a particular resonance with Dickens' largely
Protestant English audience. While the Bible makes arguments for diligent
"sowing" in practical and spiritual matters, Dickens' inevitable argument is
a defense for leisure against the constant diligence, the dependence
upon hard facts and the unaccommodating grasp that are later re-cast as
the "Protestant Work Ethic" by Max Weber, a philosopher. The second
Biblical allusion is along the same lines: one of the New Testament
parables makes mention of good Christians as "vessels" who are to be
"filled" by God, much as the "dictatorial" Speaker has an "inclined plane of
little vessels" that he will fill with his "imperial gallons." Here, the
Speaker's imagery and intentions seem so superhuman and yet,
misanthropic (anti-human) that he becomes not a parallel but a foil of the
Christian messiah (another educator) to whom Dickens alludes. The
speaker demands power without the benevolence, patience or sacrifice
that is expected of the role.
The speaker is instructing the schoolteacher on how to instruct and this
adds to the irony and deliberate confusion of the short scene. The
Speaker's anonymity, the power of his voice, and his pointed "square
forefinger" all combine as a symbol of a man with God-like authority. No
one teaches the children, but the Speaker plays schoolteacher to the
schoolteacher; and he is the only one who speaks. There is no dialogue in
the chapter, only the Speaker's reiterations and the bystanders' silent
assent.
The role of power in education is a theme that is treated throughout the
novel, and the balance between leisure and diligence is definitely
dependent upon the methods of force and power demonstrated. Later
chapters will expand upon another theme that is only foreshadowed here:
the wrestle between Romanticism and Utilitarianism. While Utilitarianism

focuses on hard facts and calculations, Romanticism is more spiritual,

tends towards the artistic and the poetic and makes aesthetic valuations
that Utilitarianism finds irrelevant. Dickens does not wholly endorse the
Romantic point-of-view, but with his (artistic) livelihood potentially at
stake, he does use a number of rhetorical devices to defeat the principles
of Utilitarianism. After all, who could read novels, if they were only after
"hard facts?"
As for rhetoric, Dickens' use of absolutes and hyperbole must be
remembered; the arguments he puts into the mouths of the Utilitarian
philosophers are characteristic but they are exaggerated. The brilliance of
Dickens' caricatures as seen in his other novels, especially Our Mutual
Friend is in itself an argument against "hard facts" for his skewed
depictions of skewed power-relationships offer the truth at the heart of
the matter, if not the "hard fact." This first chapter is prefatory, and in the
second, Dickens introduces the names of the characters and their town as
a further element of caricature.
A final point to be noted concerns the nature of Dickens' narrative
structure. One interesting dynamic the reader must bear in mind comes
from the fact that Dickens' work was originally serialized each of these
short chapters came as an installment in a magazine. Dickens stays close
to the classical trilogy/tripartite structures by dividing the work into three
books that have an inherent narrative: after sowing comes reaping, after
reaping comes garnering (though one can often reap and sow and leave it
at that). The reader can compare the larger three-part structure with the
smaller chapter-to-chapter structure. While we know that Reaping follows
Sowing, Chapter One ("The One Thing Needful") is not so continuous with
Chapter Two ("Murdering the Innocents").
As the novel progresses, Dickens will not need to bring in new characters
as often as he will in the first chapters; additionally, the chapters become
more coherent and continuous as the novel gets closer to its end. The
number of installments Dickens was to write had already predetermined
the length of the novel! As we see in Chapter One, Dickens uses tactics of
suspense: withheld information (what is the geographical setting?);
foreshadowed doom ("unaccommodating grasp"); unnamed anonymous
figures ("the speaker, and the schoolmaster, and the third grown person")
and a cliffhanger at the conclusion (literally: "the inclined plane of little
vessels then and there arranged in order, ready"). Dickens must use
suspense so that his reader will buy the next serial.

Chapter Two: Murdering the Innocents

Murdering the Innocents" replaces the suspense of the previous chapter
by establishing names and identities for the previously anonymous social
roles that were presented earlier. As is to be expected from Dickens, the
names of the characters are emblematic of their personality; usually,
Dickens' characters can be described as innocent, villainous or unaware of
the moral dilemmas of the story that surrounds them. The characters'
names are almost always an immediate indication of where the character
fits on Dickens' moral spectrum. Thomas Gradgrind, "a man of realities" is
a hard educator who grinds his students through a factory-like process,
hoping to produce graduates (grads). Additionally, Gradgrind is a
"doubting Thomas" much like the Biblical apostle who resisted belief in
the resurrection, this Thomas urges that students depend exclusively upon
the evidence in sight. He dismisses faith, fancy, belief, emotion and trust
at once. Mr. M'Choakumchild is plainly villainous and he resembles the
sort of fantastic ogres he'd prefer students took no stock in.
Cecilia (Sissy) Jupe is unlike the other characters in almost every possible
way. While there are other female students, she is the only female
identified thus far in the novel. Unlike the boy "Bitzer" (who has the name
of a horse), Sissy has a nickname and at least in this chapter, she is the
lone embodiment of "fancy" at the same time that she is the single female
presented as a contrast to the row of hardened mathematical men. Her
character is, of course, a romanticized figure. Despite the political critique
of Dickens' simplification and over-idealization of females and children
(and girls, especially), Cecilia's character does have some depth that
allows her development later in the novel. Her last name, "Jupe," comes
from the French word for "skirts" and her first name, Cecilia, represents
the sainted patroness of music. Especially as she is a member of a
traveling circus, we can expect Cecilia to represent "Art" and "Fancy" in
contrast to M'Choakumchild, one of 141 schoolmasters who "had been
lately turned at the same time, in the same factory, on the same
principles, like so many pianoforte legs."
Besides the allusion to St. Cecilia, Dickens alludes to Morgiana, a character
in the classic story "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves" one of the Arabian
Nights tales. The reader should always note the irony in Dickens' allusions:
while Dickens' characters argue against fanciful literature, Dickens' is
relying upon it to compose his story. In this case, Dickens' simile presents
M'Choakumchild's search for "the robber Fancy" in terms of Morgiana's

searching for (and hiding of) the thieves in "Ali Baba." The metaphor of
the children as eager "vessels" is made explicit when the "vessels" before
M'Choakumchild become the "jars" before Morgiana. And the motif of
robbers and villains is finalized when we remember that Ali Baba and the
forty thieves were more hero than criminal. M'Choakumchild is labeled
"gentleman" but his intention to seek and destroy "the robber Fancy
lurking within" makes "the robber Fancy" (childish imagination) a more
noble personification. Instead, the teachers are the ones who seem
criminal.
The most important allusion of the chapter is the title: "Murdering the
Innocents." The reader should expect Dickens work to be full of Biblical
and Christian allusions as he is writing to a largely sentimental popular
audience. While the reference may be more inaccessible, erudite or
unrecognizable for modern young readers, Dickens' 1854 British audience
immediately saw the reference to King Herod. Soon after the birth of
Christ, Herod fears for his throne and has all of the male babies in
Bethlehem executed (in the hopes of murdering the Christ child). In
literary circles, the phrase "murder of the innocents" is exclusively used to
describe this Biblical story. While the students are not literally danger
(M'Choakumchild), their childish imagination has been targeted for
annihilation. This completes the archetype of youth vs. age, and
foreshadows that whoever is being targeted and singled out (Cecilia Jupe
and her imagination) will ultimately escape this tyrant, but other
innocents will be less fortunate (Bitzer). But we might expect as much
from the same author who had written A Christmas Carol a decade before.
The major theme of the chapter can be easily inferred from Dickens'
description of Cecilia in the classroom. The "horses" and carpeted
"flowers" are all double symbols of her femininity and youth, but most
important, Cecilia represents Art in opposition to mechanization. Dickens
is not arguing against education, science or progress. He is arguing against
a mode of factory-style, mind-numbing, grad-grinding production that
takes the fun out of life. But even worse than the loss of "fun" or "leisure,"
Dickens is arguing that art requires an inquisitive and desiring mind.
Especially as Dickens is known to have read and enjoyed Arabian Nights in
his youth, we can see a bit of autobiography in his tender treatment of
Cecilia perhaps if he had come under a Mr. M'Choakumchild, he would
have proved incapable of becoming an artist.

Chapter Three: A Loophole

We neither know Mr. Bounderby nor Mrs. Grundy (yet another of Dickens'
cliffhangers), but from Mr. Gradgrind's statement we can infer that they
are similarly boring and uninspiring adults with a heavy-handed
disciplinary air about them. As the novel progresses, the narrative
structure will rely more and more upon cliffhangers and the sometimesabrupt introduction and disappearance of characters. The second chapter,
"Murdering the Innocents," foreshadows this chapter, "A Loophole." Just
as the theological commentary on Herod's Bethlehem massacre (allusion
from Chapter 2) focuses on the escape of the Christ child in the midst of
the mass murder, the "Loophole" now offers escape from the
"Murdering." And just as this chapter ends with the cliffhanger (Who is
Mr. Bounderby?), the next chapter, entitled "Mr. Bounderby" answers
that very question. The question of location is answered however:
Coketown, is the setting of the novel and it is an explicit critique of the
social politics, corruption and depression of Manchester, England, a
heavily industrialized city.
The new characters include "metallurgical Louisa" and "mathematical
Thomas" and by now, the reader should notice the combined force of
rhyme, consonance and alliteration in the character's names and
descriptions of places. This stylistic point is worth dwelling on because
usually these three devices especially when used in concert tend
towards more lyrical language and more beautiful images. This is not
necessarily the case in Dickens because he simply strips these literary rules
to their basic meaning. A rhyme does not have to be fanciful, it only has to
hint at a common trait.
For example: Coke in Coketown rhymes with Choak in M'Choakumchild.
Consonance describes the agreement of sounds (not necessarily a rhyme,
but more often alliteration, or a combination of both). These are sounds
that sound nice together, they repeat without perfectly rhyming, and
while they sound nice together they are not necessarily nice sounding
words.
For example: Bounderby and Grundy share consonant endings by and dy,
as well as the nd sound in the middle. They are consonant but they do not
perfectly rhyme. M'Choakumchild is depicted as a "dry Ogre chalking
ghastly white figures" on the black board (ch-).

Alliteration, the repetition of letters (and as a result, sounds), is a final

device we can use to group characters together.
Ogre, Gradgrind, Grundy, Bounderby.
Sissy/Cecilia Jupe, Signor Jupe, Josephine Sleary, Merrylegs.
"Metallurgical Louisa," Mathematical Thomas"
In some words and descriptors, we find unpleasant images that receive
the benefit of alliterated sounds: mathematical Thomas and metallurgical
Louisa can be viewed as pupils who have received the same rhyming (ical)
educational treatment but in truth, Louisa and Thomas will prove very
different. Dickens takes these devices to the extreme in this chapter and
while these rules prove true throughout the novel, the occasional
exception or coincidental rhyme can pop up. All of the names mentioned
above however, are sustained in the work. Bounderby later becomes
metallic, Gradgrind establishes boundaries, etc. Dickens' caricatures are
visual (he drew illustrations for the original editions) but they rely upon
the repetition of repetition, over and over again, much like the factories.
Dickens takes another motif from children's literature and explicitly names
the teacher as an "ogre" who is "taking childhood captive, and dragging it
into gloomy statistical dens by the hair." The loophole is a symbol of
escape both mentally and physically. The symbol of contrast to the
loophole is Stone Lodge, the home of Gradgrind, and most definitely a
"statistical den." Dickens simile presents the gardens "like a botanical
account-book" and this sustains the underlying comparison between the
statistical, grid-iron classifications (mathematical, metallurgical) and the
freedom that one expects from nature. The children's "dissection" of the
"Great Bear" constellation is a metaphor for the murder of fancy and
mythology.
We recall the "horse" vs. "Quadruped. Graminivorous." debate and this is
sustained in the images of animal "celebrities" from nursery
rhymes figures who are unfamiliar for young Louisa and Thomas.
Thematically, there have been several "loopholes" in the Gradgrind
training. There is the loophole as peephole, which is a symbol that
foreshadows a continued defiance (at least on Louisa's part); there is also
the loophole of contradiction where astronomy permits the "Great Bear"
but the real dog "Merrylegs" and the painted representation of "horses
dancing sideways" on a wall are forbidden. Mr. Gradgrind's blind face
prevents him from enjoying fancy but it also prevents him from seeing the

contradictions in his thought and the loopholes through which his model
children might escape.

Chapter Four: Mr. Bounderby

Josiah Bounderby dominates the chapter, much as his physical figure
dominates those surrounding him. At least at this point in the novel, it is
unclear how exactly he became a "self-made" man and arrived at his
fortunes. Bounderby is a man of social mobility and ever expanding
boundaries, but Dickens' social commentary suggests that Bounderby is
hypocritical: even as he complains that he had to crawl out of poverty
without aid, he is the firmest advocate of Sissy Jupe's dismissal from the
school. Other characters that are introduced in this chapter are Mrs.
Gradgrind, an unintelligent hypochondriac. Three younger children, Jane,
Adam Smith and Malthus are briefly depicted. They are relevant as
references to economists: Adam Smith is considered the father of laissezfaire (capitalist) economics and his theories encourage hard work and
competition. Thomas Malthus is a less famous and more depressing
thinker whose primary economic argument explained the inevitability and
desirability of a certain level of poverty as a means of avoiding
overpopulation. Smith and Malthus are both symbols of the economic
mode of production that has overrun Coketown.
Bounderby's self-presentation is pure hyperbole. While he may have been
very poor once and certainly is now very rich, his overbearing stories
sound very much like the "art" and "fancy" to which he is nominally
opposed. As in a classic fairy-tale, he has a wicked grandmother who
mistreats him. And there is a Shakespearean allusion in Bounderby's
explanation of his birth ("I was born in a ditch As wet as a sop. A foot
of water in it.nobody would touch me with a pair of tongs.") Despite
Bounderby's lack of a proper education, his lines are a paraphrase of very
famous lines from Shakespeare's Macbeth (Act I) where witches boil a
stew that includes a "finger of birth-strangled babe/Ditch-deliver'd by a
drab,/Make the gruel thick and slab" Ditch-born babies generally have
bad luck, but Bounderby has somehow overcome his.
And it is strongly suggested that the images of vagabonds and circuses are
the avenues towards idleness, and after idleness comes poverty. The focus
on money and industry produces a motif of metals and minerals. Just as

Coketown is named for "coke" the coal-like fuel of the industrial

furnaces, we have seen "metallurgical Louisa" and now Bounderby is
described as having a "metallic laugh," Mrs. Bounderby is described as not
being an "alloy" because she is unintelligent, and Jane had fallen asleep
"after manufacturing a good deal of moist pipe-clay on her face with slatepencil and tears."
Bounderby's "cavernous eyes" are a symbol of the deep, dark secrets
hiding (cave-like) in his past; but his resemblance with Gradgrind reminds
the reader that Bounderby and Gradgrind are constantly operating
surveillance there is a juxtaposition in the adults' spying on the children
as they peep at the public circus, and this awkward relationship reveals
how much power the adults have. When Bounderby greets Louisa with a
goodbye kiss, she rubs this spot of her face incessantly and her proposal to
cut that hole out of her face altogether hovers between metonymy and
metaphor Louisa is increasingly desperate to remove herself from her
present situation and Bounderby's advanced age only intensifies her
anguish and foreshadows Bounderby's convoluted and confused desires
for Louisa.
The theme of education and self-improvement is rather well-developed in
this chapter. We find the hypocrisy of the self-made man who would bar
Sissy Jupe from school; another irony is in Bounderby's repeated
admission of being low-class. After he uses the phrase "cursed bad thing,"
Bounderby continues: "I should ask Mrs. Gradgrind's pardon for strong
expressions, but that she knows very well I am not a refined character.
Whoever expects refinement in me will be disappointed. I hadn't a refined
bringing up." The understatement here is that Bounderby should ask for
pardon but he does not because he is merely behaving as ought to be
expected. It is interesting that Bounderby is not a target for education and
that despite his lack of education he is somehow acceptable (this is
because he is rich). On the other hand, how necessary is an educational
system so heavily dependent on the "Protestant Work Ethic" when its
model pupils are wayward and those who most need conversion (Cecilia
Jupe) are mildly persecuted? Louisa's languished looks out of the window
and the description of two other children "out at lecture in custody,"
complete our understanding of the educational environment as an ogre's
prison-cave.

Chapter Five: The Key-Note

This chapter is a narrative interlude that spaces out the dramatic action at
hand. In striking the "key-note," Dickens takes note of the physical setting
and spends time describing Coketown more than he had previously done.
The overriding archetype is hell: Hell is seen in the darkened canal that is
an allusion to the River Styx. The coiled serpents are another symbol of sin
and immorality. The images of the savage painted faces parallel the image
of the dyed water. And the elephant is an odd juxtaposition of mechanics
and nature: little surprise that he represents a "melancholy madness."
One of Dickens' primary rhetorical devices here is his exhortation to the
reader, that they might reject the hasty condemnations made by the likes
of Messrs. Gradgrind and Bounderby. From Dickens' legal background we
might suggest that he is presenting the case for the people of Coketown,
left without adequate legal or popular counsel. Here, a Latin term "amicus
curiae" ("friend of the court") would be the most precise way to describe
Dickens' moralizing tone in this short chapter. Dickens was not alone in
arguing that the conditions of workers in cities like Coketown (or rather,
Manchester) were inhumane and ought to be regulated more closely. This
opening chapter foreshadows many of the class-oriented issues that the
characters will have to grapple with.

Chapter Six: Sleary's Horsemanship

Both the dog, Merrylegs, and the name of the public-house Pegasus's
Arms are symbols of the "fancy" that Sleary's company offers, in contrast
to the world of hard facts and figures. The additional cast includes a
"Centaur" and a "cupid" which are also allusions to the same Greek
mythologies that spawned the "Pegasus." It is certainly ironic that
Bounderby, a man who has claimed to have been abandoned in his youth,
would now be the advocate of Sissy's rejection and abandonment. His
hypocrisy is certainly one of the main targets of Dickens's social
commentary.
Mr. Sleary is one of Dickens's caricatures. His loose eye and his lisp make
him appear as ridiculous as circus performer might be expected to be. Still,
he does have a few words of wisdom to offer and especially later on in the
novel, Mr. Sleary is an archetypal fool who is actually wise.

Chapter Seven: Mrs. Sparsit

Characterization is very important in this chapter, which center on the
character for whom it is named. Mrs. Sparsit's name can be read as a
combination of the words "sparse" and "sit." Throughout the novel, the
reader will find that Sparsit is almost always described in terms of her
posture (and she is usually sitting). Her character and her history are
riddled with contradictions and contrasts. There is, for example, the irony
of her husband dying of alcoholism ("brandy") in the midst of French
decadence (the port city of Calais). And yet, Sparsit is to be considered as
a moral example and as for power, she is both a "conqueror" and a
"princess."
Bounderby is described with various symbols of his own power; chief
among them are his portrait and his bank documents. The portrait is an
especially interesting symbol as it is a likeness of Bounderby and is also an
artistic image. Why should Bounderby be so interested in an artistic
rendering of himself? Perhaps it is because the portrait is not an element
of fancy, but is an extremely accurate representation. It is, essentially, a
second Bounderby.
Finally, there are a few instances of hyperbole in this chapter, as seen in
much of Gradgrind and Bounderby's dialogue about Cecilia Jupe. The
reference to Fairies, Dwarves and the Hunchback as "destructive
nonsense" is a little extreme. But this hard line of reasoning does situate
Jupe's experience within the themes of education and conversion. It is
interesting to note that Cecilia is to be "reclaimed and formed" both
intellectually and morally.

Chapter Eight: Never Wonder

Chapter Eight is more important within Dickens' philosophical context
than in the actual "story" that is being presented in the novel. Certainly,
the characters are affected by the course of events, but when Dickens
writes of returning to the "key-note" this is a hint that he is returning to
look at the major themes and contrasts that have been presented thus far.
In a sense, it is a summary of the major ideas in conflict. An example of
this conflict can be seen in the library; ironically, Gradgrind does not
approve of the establishment. Dickens develops this point by contrasting
"Defoe" versus "Euclid" and "Goldsmith" versus "Cocker." These

references basically reiterate the fact that Gradgrind does not like
literature (Daniel Defoe is the author of such classic fictional works
as Robinson Crusoe and [?]Goldsmith is a famous British playwright.
Euclid, on the other hand, is an ancient Greek who basically invented
geometry and [?]Cocker is [?]).
The battle between the literary agents of "fancy" and the hard
mathematical analysts can be seen again in Dickens' archetypal use of fire
imagery to convey the sense of the storyteller (in this case, Louisa
Gradgrind but also, in a larger sense, Dickens, no?) as a somewhat
magical, more modern version of the ancient oracles. In Greek myth,
oracles were ordained priest-like figures who were usually female and
known for looking into the fire and "reading the signs." Incidentally, this
scene of a sister reading the fire to her younger brother is repeated in
another one of Dickens' novels, Our Mutual Friend. The fire can be a
symbol of the hearth, of familial warmth and love between siblings but we
find here is that this warmth is largely frustrated.
The contrast to Fancy and imagination comes with the lingering cold,
despite the fire. In a metaphorical sense, we can describe the Gradgrinds'
family life as very cold and lacking in emotion. An important distinction
can be made between coldness and hate, indifference and dislike. The
parents neither hate nor dislike their children, but they are emotionally
cold, indifferent and distant. In opposition to emotion and "wonder," they
prefer science. We see mechanical imagery in the way that Louisa and
Tom describe their emotions (as a coiled "spring," for example) and in the
lack of freedom and repression of emotions. In a way, repressing ones
true emotions, feelings and desires is a form of dishonesty and this
chapter foreshadows later scenes in the novel, where Louisa's repression
becomes a matter of loyalty and fidelity (a key theme of the novel).

Chapter Nine: Sissy's Progress

The characterization of Cecilia Jupe as a student who is trying to make
"progress" in her relations with the Gradgrinds relies upon an allusion to
the epic, Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan. As this work is about a very
devout character (named Christian) who tries to get to Heaven (called the
Celestial City) and avoid sin (in such places as the Slough of Despond), you
could say that Dickens' use of this "Progress" is intended as irony. The
reference to Bunyan's work might not be obvious but once it is pointed

out, the reader should consider the different types of "progress" that
might exist. Dickens lived during the great "Industrial Revolution" of Great
Britain and the Gradgrinds are certainly part of this revolution. Still,
Dickens suggests that this economic and scientific progress should be
matched with moral and artistic progress.
Without being as religiously explicit as Bunyan, Dickens tries to show that
Cecilia has made moral progress in a way that the Gradgrinds have not.
For example, there is the metaphor of Mr. Gradgrind's eye as a "wintry
piece of fact." It is hard and dead (the archetype of winter) but Cecilia can
make progress, and can grow for she is attached to images of spring,
youth and life. As one of the major themes in the novel focuses on
education and conversion, we might ask ourselves what the Gradgrinds
(especially Louisa) could learn from Sissy and how this progress might
make their lives better. Dickens contrasts Sissy's concern for others with
"political economy" an academic subject that should answer questions in
order to take care of a society and its citizens.
One of Dickens' literary qualities that does not appeal to modern readers
is his overly sentimental treatment of certain characters. Hopefully, the
sentimentality does not significantly obscure some of the subtle points
that Dickens is making when he seems to making the same point over and
over again. There are many ways in which Sissy is a contrast to the
Gradgrinds, but there is the hidden detail of her father being a circus
clown, basically, yet being a better father than Mr. Gradgrind. Later on in
the novel, Dickens will again use the stock character of the fool in order to
show true wisdom. The constant battle between "Fancy" and "Fact" is
complicated by the varying degrees of honesty, truthfulness and accuracy.
While Mr. Gradgrind always insists on "Fact" and we can assume Dickens
to prefer "Fancy," Dickens does try to show that the preference for one or
the other is a matter of choice and opinion. Regardless of which is better,
both are necessary and life is miserable without the both. In terms of
social commentary, Sissy's sobbing over being denied the stories she loves
("the wrong books") is an example of censorship, and yet another example
of the themes of surveillance and watching that fascinate Dickens.

Chapter Ten: Stephen Blackpool

Dickens' portrayal of Stephen Blackpool is a form of characterization that
basically equates the figure and the scene. Stephen is the personification

of his town and the symbol of the downtrodden working-class. The name
"blackpool" relies upon basic negative imagery to suggest Stephen's dim
prospects. This is entirely true and unwavering: only bad things happen to
Stephen even though he remains an incredibly virtuous person throughout
his adversity. Both Stephen and Rachel fit into Dickens' sentimental
depiction of the working-class as more decent and morally fit than their
alleged superiors. The drunken woman at the end of the chapter is a
reminder of reality, that not all poor people are also decent.
The city is described using the imagery of a hell-like place. It is confusing,
ugly and full of smoke. In one passage, the description of the scene
contains an allusion to the "Labyrinth" of Greek mythology a maze in
which a vengeful monster (called the Minotaur) lived. Coketown is a
labyrinth in that it is maze-like; each building and street identically
resembles the squalor and misery found in all of the other poor-houses
and alleys. There is the irony of the factories being described as "Fairy
palaces" featuring bells, an elephant and a serpent. Not only are the
factories instances of fact versus fancy (and fairies) but there is nothing
innocent nor anything harmless about these "Fairy palaces." The "titanic
shadows," the serpent and the threatening words of the drunken woman
complete the symbolism of looming threatening danger. In drunkenness,
just as in a maze, everything looks the same and everything is unclear.

Chapter Eleven: No Way Out

The narrative structure of the novel often uses various chapters as
parallels or as cause-and-effect sequences. In this case, "No Way Out"
might be compared to "A Loophole" in the same way that we can contrast
the lack of freedom suffered by the poor (Stephen) and by children (Tom
and Louisa Gradgrind). It is also worth noting that for all of Mrs. Sparsit's
hypocrisy, she parallels Stephen Blackpool as the spouse of a drunk (her
husband died of alcoholism in France). Finally, on the subject of marriage,
Stephen's fate foreshadows Bounderby's marriage (presented at the end
of Book One) and by the end of the novel, Bounderby will find himself in a
similarly awkward situation.
The tone of this chapter is incredibly negative in regards to Sparsit and
Bounderby. While they weren't the favorite characters before this point,
Dickens' characterization is really a social commentary on class conflict
and the difference between the lives of the rich and the poor. While

Sparsit is described as a "fallen lady," there are more intense images of

verticality in the lives of the poor: the serpent, the rising smoke, Lucifer
the fallen angel and the grim, black ladders attached to each house. Each
of these images becomes an explicit symbol of how easy it is for the poor
to fall farther into the dumps. On the one hand we have Blackpool whose
steady fall throughout the novel is simply on account of his already being
down and having no other direction in which to travel. On the other hand,
characters like Bounderby and Sparsit will also suffer their own social
"falls" but it will be on account of their hubris, excessive pride.

Chapter Twelve: The Old Woman

The old woman character is one of Dickens' specialties, appearing in more
than a few of his novels. As in the others, she is a woman from the country
who is on a pilgrimage, which is usually a religious trip. In spite of her
mystery, her kiss upon Stephen's hand is a symbolic blessing. There is a
simple contrast between the country woman and the city men that excite
her. Her connection to Bounderby is not yet known, but it is very
important and will be easy to guess well before it is revealed. It is ironic
that she considers the men of high standing to be "gentlemen" when we
have learned that they are anything but gentle, but the pilgrim
demonstrates that she can see past appearances by finding the value in
Stephen Blackpool.
The suspense of the chapter is mainly fueled by questions of the woman's
identity and how she is able to know Bounderby so well as to describe him
as "portly, bold, outspoken and hearty." Again, the theme of surveillance
is established, for the lady has only come to town to deliberately watch
strangers. Nonetheless, her honesty and the fact that she does sneak up
and spy on others are all reassuring.

Chapter Thirteen: Rachael

The most important symbol in the chapter is the candle that represents
Rachel's presence in Stephen's room and in his life. As a candle, Rachel
brings light (clarity and understanding), warmth (love) and constancy
(permanent devotion). Along with Sissy Jupe, she is part of the motif of
young women who have maternal, caring qualities because they are poor

and live hard lives. This is part of Dickens' trademark sentimentality but it
is serious enough to establish the contrast between Rachel's candle and
the black ladder that is an image of death.
Death is one of the focuses of the chapter, with Stephen's wife only barely
recovering from what was almost her deathbed. In a metaphor, death is
reduced to the operations of chance and fate in a card game: it "dealt out
an unequal hand." Stephen's unequal hand is in the fact of his livingdeath. He is trapped in between sleep and being awake. Even worse, he
can find "now way out" of his present situation in either of these
conditions. Alcohol and dreams are both symbolic escapes, but in this
case, the alcoholism of the wife has dried out the dreams of the husband.

Chapter Fourteen: The Great Manufacture

This chapter is the foreshadowing of Louisa's marriage to Mr. Bounderby.
Obviously, this is a disappointing union of contrasts. Louisa is young while
he is old and her desires for freedom are going to remain suppressed in his
house. Symbolically, the presence of a wilderness as opposed to the cycle
of seasons reflects the lack of fertility and the end of growth for Louisa.
From her youth, she threatens to become a bitter old woman. At the very
least, her marriage is heavily foreshadowed as a failure.
Tom calls his sister a "capital girl" and this is a reiteration of the imagery of
economics applied to emotional and human subjects. Louisa is "capital"
because her marriage presents the potential for profit. Similarly, the
children's education at the "Mill" and the "Bank" of learning, transforms
them into products and economic laborers. Finally, there is the irony of
the old woman who is a spinner of Time. She is the archetype of the Fates
offering a lifetime as a thread to be cut. But in contrast, Bounderby has a
weaving factory in which Stephen Blackpool is a skilled power-loom
weaver. The motif of weaving operates on yet another level when Dickens
compares nature's weaving (creation) of Stephen Blackpool (a human
being) as superior to the mere spinning and weaving of the goods that
Bounderby sells.

Chapter Fifteen: Father and Daughter

The reference to Bluebeard and Mr. Gradgrind's office room being full of
"bluebooks" is a combination of irony and allusion. At the very least, the
very mention of Bluebeard, a villain from a child's fairy tale story,
foreshadows the marriage drama that unfolds and it is a reminder of the
war against "fancy" and "imagination" that the Gradgrinds have embarked
upon. Bluebeard was a dreadful knight who promised a wonderful life to
each of his wives until their curiosity overcame them and they were
encouraged to search through a hidden closet in the back of his castle a
closet that contained the dead bodies of his former wives. Surely this is
not a good harbinger for Louisa's upcoming marriage.
Mr. Gradgrind is a bit of an ogre. Certainly, he and Bounderby have had
Louisa under heavy surveillance and observation for some time.
Gradgrind's office is as symbolic an observatory as it is a literal one. The
characterization of Louisa reflects the power and politics between Mr.
Gradgrind and Mr. Bounderby. She becomes a debased human being in a
way, the mere "subject of a proposal." She is weakened but in a reversal,
she is the one who stands "impassive, proud, cold" and is above all. The
father is beaten at his own game of stoicism and if anything, this chapter
marks the beginning of the blindness motif that will come to identify Mr.
Gradgrind and his inability to understand the human soul.

Chapter Sixteen: Husband and Wife

If this chapter confirms what we have learned from the stories of Mrs.
Sparsit and also Stephen Blackpool it is an argument of social
commentary: the politics of the social scale are mediated more by
marriage than by any other one thing. This also presents an interesting
contrast between Mrs. Sparsit and Mr. Bounderby. Her fake show of
sympathy foreshadows the eventual unhappiness of the marriage. Who
exactly is the "victim?" As Book I ends, we are left to compare the "jolly"
state of Bounderby and the more "desperate" condition of Blackpool.

Book the Second: Reaping

Chapter One: Effects in the Bank
The tone is wrought with sarcasm. Dickens uses the word wonder' as
irony because there is little wonder to be had in Coketown. The "evil eye"
glaring over Coketown is as intense a foreshadowing of Bounderby's
unraveling as any other image in the novel. The shroud is a symbol of
death and dying, decay and destruction.
The metaphor of Babel refers to the Tower of Babel. This is an allusion to
an Old Testament story that explains that the excessive pride of humans
will eventually topple their enterprises. The image of hell and punishment
is reinforced by the very sharp description of the city's climate as "frying in
oil."
The use of the word "aspiring" is a pun that refers both to the upward
motion of the smoke and the upward yearnings of the poor if only the
fortunes of the poor rose as easily as the smoke of the factory. A
metaphor is employed when the fragility of the townspeople is
understood by their being like "weak china."
In characterizing Mrs. Sparsit, Dickens takes her posture (always sitting
and watching) and makes her into an equivalent of the Fates, much like
Madame deFarge, a famous character from his novel A Tale of Two Cities.
The scenes that revolve around Mrs. Sparsit are all about the trappings of
social class and position and in these moments, even the tables are
personified as having their "legs in an attitude."
Against the cliffhanger that centers on yet another new stranger's
mysterious identity, Dickens offers some social commentary on the upper
class conceptions of knowledge and education. In sharp contrast to the
Gradgrinds, Mrs. Sparsit takes her lack of knowledge as a fashionable
symptom of her simple virtue. Even as it makes little sense for lack of
knowledge to be rewarded we also see that Sparsit is eager to gain
information about the people around her. This interest in others affairs
will eventually prove to be Sparsit's undoing.

Chapter Two: Mr. James Harthouse

It is very humorous that Harthouse is being hired to instill discipline and
order when he is wholly lacking in convictions. A subtle difference
between this chapter and the previous ones is the interior monologue of
Harthouse; he is the first character in the novel whose thoughts are
rendered verbatim to the reader. This is a good indicator of just how
transparent his character is, but this will not prevent him from ultimately
causing mischief and doing serious damage to his relationships with
others.
Dickens is perhaps being a bit too merciless when he describes the
Gradgrinds' educational system as "cutting the throats of the Graces."
Dickens alludes to the three Graces of ancient Greek mythology,
goddesses who personified beauty, joy and flowering. That the
Gradgrinds' would eliminate this activity is especially worth noting
because Book II is when the "reaping" will occur. The elimination of the
Graces will insure the foreshadowed poor harvest.
One of the most important images of the chapter is that of Louisa's face,
described as a face whose "natural play was so locked up" that Harthouse
is unable to decipher her true thoughts and emotions. The "natural play"
is a metaphor for Louisa's facial gestures and her expression but the state
of their incarceration and lack of freedom (being "so locked up") stands as
a symbol for Louisa's experience as a whole. Just as Bounderby can be
understood by his braggart's portrait, Louisa is represented by her
imprisoned, stony face. The motif that offers representations of the "self"
leads to the metaphor of Bounderby's "household gods." Again, this
reinforces his portraits and the toys of his wealth as a combination of
idolatry and pride that is sure to bring doom.
A final contrast to consider is Harthouse vs. Louisa. While Louisa may be
said to have few emotions and desires because of her restricted
upbringing, Harthouse has few genuine emotions and desires because of
his refusal to make an unswerving commitment. Dickens' treatment of the
theme of fidelity is not a lumping together of the two characters when
Louisa says "What does it matter?" she means something very different
from Harthouse's more casual and more dangerous argument that one set
of ideas is "as good as another."

Chapter Three: The Whelp

Tom's new characterization as a "whelp" is certainly a sing of bad things to
come. Indeed, Tom's condition comes to be less a matter of
foreshadowing so much as it shows the inevitable workings of fate. Later
in the novel, the reader will find that well before Tom actually became a
criminal, the novel had already uncovered his criminal potential. As an
ignorant, headstrong young man, Tom Gradgrind suffers from what the
Ancient Greeks called "hubris," an excessive pride that usually roused the
gods to anger. In this case, Tom does not even have the benefit of
becoming a fallen hero for there is nothing heroic about him. The image
that he has of himself is far grander than what he actually is.
The images that identify Tom in this chapter are subtle indicators of the
young man's folly, blindness and inability to direct his steps. In this
chapter, he becomes involved in drugs, soporifics, tobacco, cigars and the
like all of which induce a clueless sleep. This is reinforced by the symbolic
action of begin carried through the mist by the waiter and Tom feels as
though he is "lounging somewhere in the air." Certainly, one can draw a
parallel between Tom and Stephen Blackpool's wife, but the most
important feature of Tom's drunkenness is his somewhat innocent
destructive activity. His intentions are far from pure, but he is unaware of
what greater evils he sets in motion. Whether from the cigar smoke or the
alley-air, Tom is not in control of his action.
A better parallel lies between Tom and James Harthouse for Harthouse
will come to relinquish control of his actions by simply avoiding to
calculate the consequences of the things he does. What these characters
leave unsaid and to happenstance expresses a sentiment echoed in
Dickens's euphemistic condemnation of Tom who would have done better
to let the foul river rise above his "curtained head." Suicide is the unsaid
factor here, and while Tom is never driven to suicide, his fate is little
better and he does far greater harm to other innocent characters.

Chapter Four: Men and Brothers

Slackbridge is one of Dickens's quintessential caricatures, the principal
characterization of the man being derived from his one-word name: slack
bridge. The juxtaposition of slack and bridge, should amply explain the
danger that Slackbridge presents as a leader for the urban poor. Like a

bridge, he is necessary and essential to the cause. But he is slack, not

dependable, untrustworthy and dangerous. It is the combination of slack
and bridge that produces the fault of the man. The worthless content of
Slackbridge's message is described by alliteration in the phrase "froth and
fume" and Slackbridge's demagoguery can be compared and contrasted to
Bounderby and Sparsit, two other leading orators of the novel.
In the pairing of Stephen Blackpool against Slackbridge, Blackpool's
negative name has no correlation with his character. Still, he is no match
for Slackbridge's powerhouse. Slackbridge's rhetorical skills are
exemplified in the copious allusions that he offers in the hopes of painting
a sour picture of Blackpool's moral credentials. He alludes to the Old
Testament story of Esau and his brother Jacob who tricked his brother
Esau into selling his birthright. Slackbridge also mentions Judas (Iscariot)
who betrayed Jesus Christ and a man by the name of Castlereagh, a British
politician who earned the scorn of the laboring classes and also foreign
diplomats by reneging on his promises.

Chapter Five: Men and Masters

The narrative structure of this chapter parallels the "Men and Brothers"
theme with its own "Men and Masters." Once dominated by those of his
own low social standing, Blackpool is now dominated by those who are his
social superiors. The "black unpassable world betwixt" the rich and the
poor is a metaphorical "blackpool" that also echoes the words about
angels and dead siblings who are benevolent spirits, blessing from across
the "gulf" of life and death. The other major metaphor that Blackpool uses
to describe the plight of the poor is a clock that is set on a ship bound to
Norfolk.
His reference to Norfolk is well worth notice as Norfolk was an old Virginia
colony that was unsuccessful and little different from the lost colony of
"Roanoke." One of the central themes of literature involves the "unity" of
time. Here, Stephen is practically philosophizing when he argues that time
will continue to advance regardless of the do-nothing attitude of those
who have the potential to produce some benefit for society. The social
commentary focuses on the "muddle" that has been created in the
hypocrisy of the wealthy and the incredible want of those who are lower
on the social totem-pole. Just as Bounderby is incredibly casual in

delivering a very serious blow to Stephen's livelihood, the images that

describe him as a "windbag" and as a "wind rising" express the violent
potential of his volatility. Yet again, Stephen is martyred and wounded
despite his good heart. Don't expect his situation to get anything but
worse; his fate is steady and he cannot overcome the curse of his name.

Chapter Six: Fading Away

"Fading Away" presents us with the images of decay, lingering and
failure all of these foreshadow pain in the lives of the major characters.
And a good part of this pain comes in the fact of fate being so protracted.
Blackpool is not so fortunate as to suffer once and finally; rather, life gives
him so many convolutions and false hopes that he is forever entangled in
the negative affairs of his life. Just as his old wife is described as a
metaphorical "evil spirit," the old lady who returns seemingly out of
nowhere to comfort Stephen in his hour of need, is a symbol of fidelity.
Even though Stephen has the opportunity to leave Coketown, the
potential freedom is overwhelmed by stronger, more negative images.
The law of fate "rose like the sea" much as Bounderby exhibited the
archetypal image of the powerful wind. In both cases, nature's archetypal
images are employed to express the power of the forces who are against
Stephen. They are as strong as nature because they present him with a
fate that he cannot escape from. At the same time, the nature imagery
suggests the death and decay of Coketown alongside the excessive power
of sadness and of Bounderby. Most emblematic is the deteriorated
sunrise which is very sharp because sunrise is when the sun's radiance
dissolves the darkness of the previous night.
Dickens writes that the "sun made but a pale waste in the sky, like a sad
sea" much as other characters "looked wan." We can add to these
symbols, the fact that the town is "in eclipse" and is metaphorically
blinded by the eclipse and the "smoked glass" of the town. The sun and
sea images have been perverted as the only way to show how disorderly
and improper the order and propriety of Coketown truly are.

Chapter Seven: Gunpowder

The narrative structure of chapters seven and eight combine a plot device
with a metaphor. It should be immediately noted that there is no literal
"Gunpowder" nor a literal "Explosion." Rather, the plot relies upon the
cause-and-effect progression of the story in order to maximize suspense.
Metaphorically, the "gunpowder" is simply the combustible material of
tension and argument in strained relationships. But the "explosion" will
turn out to have little to do with what is deceptively foreshadowed by the
"gunpowder" in this chapter. In other words, actions are built up to the
brink of climax but Dickens often leaves them lingering and turns to other
element of the story.
Dickens's social commentary is especially revealing if we think about how
the poorer characters are heavily subject to fate. The wealthier characters,
however, suffer their calamities in terms of cause and effect. The major
emphasis of the foreshadowing in this chapter is the budding potential for
an extra-marital romance between Jem and Louisa. While Jem once noted
that Louisa had "stone" features, we now find the allusion to the Gorgon
sisters Medusa, chief among them. Jem feared that Louisa was hardened
and ugly, but in fact she only wears her stone face without having lost her
beauty. Ironically, the Gorgons do not have the stone faces, rather the
young heroes who failed and gazed upon them are the ones turned to
stone.
As heroes go, it remains to be seen whether Harthouse will successfully
woo Louisa from the husband to whom she is obliged. Even as he
metaphorically reads Louisa with a "student's eye" the truth of the matter
is that he is a failed teacher in a failing system and she is more
complicated than he surmises.

Chapter Eight: Explosion

When Harthouse is smoking, he becomes a symbolic devil, and the source
of temptation. Besides the smoke and fire, he is also associated with the
"brimstone" of hellish Coketown. The metaphors used to describe
Harthouse's moral condition resuscitate some of the images of drowning
that occurred earlier in the novel. Here, his idleness is likened to an
"iceberg" that may cause a "wreck" (And it will at the end of Book II).
Harthouse is content to let himself drift along without making conscious

efforts to do right or to do wrong. This is an important reversal for Dickens

because he has spent most of the novel criticizing the excesses of labor
and work. Now, his social commentary is leveled against the excess
idleness and leisure of the leisure class.
In the discussion of the theft, there is nothing to out of the ordinary.
Dickens uses his characteristic excess of irony and understatement when
describing the "little safe in young Tom's closet, the safe used for petty
purposes." Not only was the "safe" never safe, but we come to wonder
how much of a safe this was if it was "little" in size, used for "petty" sums,
and entrusted to the small closet of a "young" whelp. Of course, Tom is
the thief and the fact that there has not really been a crime will not stop
the search for criminals. Indeed, the false crime like the false key both
testify to the themes of honesty and fidelity. Moreover, there is the
question of surveillance and the limits of human understanding and
knowledge. Despite their surveillance skills, Sparsit and Bitzer could not
avoid the theft. Despite his rigorous education, Tom could not avoid
stealing.
A final comment on knowledge and wisdom comes from Mrs. Sparsit's
Shakespearean allusion to the play Hamlet. When thinking of Mr.
Bounderby's loss, she hypocritically mourns (without feeling any
sentiment) "Alas poor Yorick." This is a reference to Prince Hamlet's lines
in Act V, Scene I, Lines 203-204: "Alas poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a
fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy." Hamlet has been watching
the clumsy gravediggers prepare Ophelia's grave and in the process they
uncover Yorick's skull. Yorick was the court jester and play friend of the
prince. Ironically, Bounderby is no such Yorick "infinite jest" and
"excellent fancy" are precisely opposite to his personality. Dickens's
hidden reference gives us further reason to suspect Mrs. Sparsit's
emotional attachment to her "benefactor," Mr. Bounderby.

Chapter Nine: Hearing the Last of It

The characterization of Mrs. Sparsit focuses on her facial features and
their architectural composition. Her "Coriolanian" eyebrows and her dark,
all-seeing eyes are indicative of her powers of surveillance. In contrast to
the images of Sissy presented in Book III, Chapter One, Sparsit is not a site
of refuge but her eyes are "lighthouses on an iron-bound coast." This is a
symbol of Sparsit's strength and intensity but we will find in the later

chapters of Book II is that she does not use her powers of surveillance to
save or rescue anybody. Sparsit presents herself as a serene image. She
moves without being seen but she sees all. This is not going to remain for
much longer though.

Chapter Ten: Mrs. Sparsit's Staircase

The staircase is a central symbol that functions on a number of levels. As
far as social commentary, the staircase's verticality expresses the rise and
fall of fate as far as social standing is concerned. Indeed, the fates of Mrs.
Sparsit, Louisa, Mr. Bounderby and Jem Harthouse are all dependent upon
Mrs. Sparsit's staircase. A second major facet of the staircase is, of course,
the archetypal fall by temptation. Much along the lines of the classic story
of Eden, Louisa's descent down the staircase is a "fall" that parallels the
original fall of man by sin.
The title of the chapter seems to heavily foreshadow the events of the
next two chapters: "Lower and Lower" and "Down." Here, as always, we
can expect that Dickens will employ some type of reversal of meaning and
the referents of "Lower and Lower" and "Down" will be something other
than we originally expected.

Chapter Eleven: Lower and Lower

The potential for romance between Louisa and James is juxtaposed with
the war-like relationship between Louisa and Mrs. Sparsit. Without
speaking to one another, both characters seem locked in combat and
Sparsit takes it as a personal loss when Louisa's "curious reserve" delays
her long-awaited fall. Again, Louisa is portrayed as a silent figure is not
truly understood by the people around her she remains curious. Instead
of talking to Louisa, Mrs. Sparsit initiates a form of apostrophe. Mrs.
Sparsit threatens Louisa on the imagined staircase, just as she mocks the
portrait of Mr. Bounderby to his face. Within the theme of surveillance,
Sparsit's behavior makes sense because she is eager to see but reluctant
to be seen. She speaks to Louisa but not in a way that would allow Louisa
to hear the threat: "all your art shall never blind me." Sparsit is very
concerned about not being blinded or fooled but in the end of the
chapter, she fools herself and misses her victory.

Sparsit wears her "threatening mitten" as a metaphorical glove, again

symbolizing the military operation she has undertaken. Sparsit's intentions
are never fully revealed. It certainly doesn't look like she has something
against Louisa personally. Rather, she intends to exploit a bad situation for
her own personal gain. The allusion to the Furies of Greek mythology is
adequate evidence of Sparsit's high tolerance for the pain of others. The
rain that inundates the streets makes a muddy mess and in the confusion,
the "pipes burst" and the streets are underwater. When Sparsit confesses:
"I have lost her," we see that the rain has established a symbolic confusion
even as Sparsit's clothes are disoriented, torn and disheveled. Louisa is
expected to drown in the "gulf" prepared at the base of Mrs. Sparsit's
staircase but Sparsit is the most immediate sufferer here.

Chapter Twelve: Down

The narrative structure offers a climax in this chapter, but overall Book
Two ends with more tension and drama. "Down" continues the trajectory
of "Mrs. Sparsit's Staircase" and "Lower and Lower" but in a reversal of
expectations, "Down" does not present the symbolic fall that was
expected. Louisa does fall down literally, at her father's feet. The
metaphor of the fall extends also to the "House of Gradgrind" and the
prized educational system for Louisa was the pride and joy of the system.
Finally, it appears that Louisa's marriage is also on the verge of collapse.
There are many things that have fallen "down," but the phrase has come
to mean something larger than what was originally intended by Mrs.
Sparsit and her staircase.
Louisa's characterization is more intense than in previous scenes. While
Louisa's repressed emotions have prevented her from becoming a full
person, here the tension between emotion, temptation and confusion
becomes almost epic in its proportions. In symbolic terms, Louisa
confesses: "I crushed my better angel into a demon." Her "better angel" is
the fanciful, imaginative spirit that she has almost murdered on account of
the "demon" hard facts, analysis and the suppression of desire. The
image of a shipwreck aptly characterizes the "insensible heap" that Louisa
has become and breakdown renders her temporarily unable to process
any emotions or thoughts.