IF DICKENS STILL LIVED.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20508, 8 March 1930, Page 8 (Supplement)

IF DICKENS STILL LIVED.

WHAT WOULD HE WRITE?

What novels would Dickens write if he were living to-day ? asks a recent writer in a London journal. This question raises a number of points that would no doubt cause members of a debating society to talk themselves hoarse, and it is quite likely that general unanimity would be impossible. The writer goes on to say:— Dickens never doubted that he was an historian—a personal historian, who wrote about his times, and in works that in almost every page breathe the life of the times of which he wrote. His neverfailing habit of giving characters preposterous names deceives us little. He would probably do tho same to-day were ho with us, and the fact that he chose to call Brown, our bank clerk neighbour, by the name of Bob Cratchit would not disguise from us that Brown the bank clerk was intended. What kind of novels would Dickens write at tho present time ? What would be his sensations if he, like us, were looking forward to a Christmas Day ? The first question, on the face of it, is easily answered. As in the nineteenth century he wrote invariably about the poorer classes—who really wcro poor—and the indignities and repressions they wero subjected to, it seems probable that ho might, conceivably do the same of tho poorer classes to-day. Past and the Present. But tho poorer classes of to-day are not nearly in tho same plight as in the young days of Dickens. Living conditions generally aro better, while certain educational advantages have sinco ap-' peared, so that Dickens could not now have tho same justification for writing, for example " Oliver Twist." Much of Dickens' work, including " Oliver Twist," was propaganda—and a nobly inspired and remarkably success-' ful propaganda it was. If he attempted to expose abuses of the same character at the present day he would, no doubt, be accused of " barking up tho wrong tree," and invited to turn his attention to the slave-traffic that still goes on in certain parts of Africa, India and Japan. Assuming that Dickens were content to confine his attention to England and particularly to London, which lie knew so well, what would he write about. At the moment >a flood of war stories :s holding the public favour, with sex and psychological novels, films and plays always in steady demand. Rut would Dickens be content merely to give the public what they want? It. is doubtful, although it must be remembered that the present-day Dickens would bo breathing 'in an entirely different, atmosphere from the Dickens of 1838, the year that saw tho publication of " Oliver Twist." We live according to our times, and even Dickens frequently acted on suggestions from his publishers. Whether. the present-day Dickens would have written a Michael Arlen novel had the idea been suggested, just as the 1836 Dickens wrote " Pickwick " at another s prompting. is a moot point. South London's Special Regard. For all his wordiness, Dickens seldom wrote a sentence that was not worth reading. Even when one detects an artificial note in certain passages where it is obvious his compassion has had rein, there is a neatly turned phrase that can be remembered with profit. Although Dickens was a national—or more correctly international—-celebrity rather than a local one, South Londoners have a special regard for him. 1< rom his works it is obvious that he was well acquainted with certain 'lyways m Southwark, Walworth, the Borough, Caniberwoll Green and adjacent districts. " There is no time in these days for romance," the sceptics say. But the samo would have been said just less than a hundred years ago, when the. squalor and inhuman conditions—such as are not tolerated to-day—did not. handicap Dickens and his' famous contemporaries, Thackeray and ■ Anthony Trollope, in writing of the times in memorable word pictures. * Even to ua to-day, accustomed to cheap, efficient cars, there is something irresistible in the idea of the old postchaise. Dickens found these 'chaises and horse-drawn cabs a prolific source of plots, but it does not f-'eem feasible that he could extract the same delight from the modern motor-car.