A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
My first thought about this book is that I would really love to buy a pair of Doctor Manette’s shoes – they sound fantastic. I personally think he made a mistake returning to the medical profession; after all, he was a better shoemaker than he was a doctor. Most of his patients died after he treated them, but his shoes? Well, they’d last two lifetimes. He’d work for peanuts too – well, maybe not peanuts, but bread and water would suffice. In many ways, I believe Dr Manette paved the way for Dr Martens to produce their “AirWare” boots back in 1881 (suspiciously just after Charles Dickens died).
My second thought was about the Mad Knitter of St Antoine, otherwise known as Madame Defarge. This woman knows how to hold a grudge – in fact, she holds a grudge better than she holds a pair of knitting needles, and that’s saying something! If knitting were an Olympic sport, she’d be to yarn what Michael Phelps was to water.
She even knitted coins into her work – a sort of scarf-come-wallet. How useful would that be? On good days, whilst knitting, she would brood and mutter. On bad days, however, she would knit one, pearl one, then plot revenge on anyone who had slighted her or her family in the past, was likely to do so in the future, or just looked at her “a bit funny”.
In all, she was a nasty piece of work, and I felt a little sorry for her down-trodden husband, who went along with her evil scheming and accepted her yearning for head removal in order to live quiet life.
Together, they managed to run a wine shop-come-bistro, whose clientele consisted entirely of people called Jacques. I believe the doorman (name unknown but presumed to be Jacques) would ask anyone wishing to enter their name, and if it wasn’t Jacques, they’d be refused entry (or put on Madame Defarge’s decapitation list).
This affected the wine shop’s profits quite badly, as there were only three Jacques in the area who, to save confusion, were numbered 1, 2, and 3. It didn’t help that Madame Defarge’s best friend was someone called “The Vengeance” – I mean, talk about keeping bad company, but who on Earth names their baby “The Vengeance”? You’re just asking for trouble. I can imagine the roll call in school: “Smith? Jones? Defarge? … (gulp!) The Vengeance?” The pair of them were probably kept in detention quite regularly – “Defarge, The Vengeance – see me after class!”
Sydney Carton. What can you say about Sid? He liked a drink. He also liked to hover around courtrooms whenever the accused bore the slightest resemblance to him. He was a bit like Columbo (except for the drinking and impersonations). He’d get someone off on a technicality, try to get them drunk, and force them to like him. When that failed, he’d attempt to woo their fiancée in an unorthodox manner (by telling her what a bad person he was).
(Spoiler alert)
In the end, Sid’s desire to corrupt the judicial system got the better of him, and his latest (and final) impersonation left him feeling a bit silly – if not a bit light-headed. He was an unlikely hero and a bit of a narcissist. I just don’t think he thought this one through.
I’d like to give an honorary mention to both Miss Pross and Jerry Cruncher. Their daring escape from Paris (and inevitable murder charges), complete with a high-speed carriage chase, was like an 18th-century version of Thelma and Louise and set the stage for an eventual sequel (perhaps A Tale of Three Cities). I’m convinced it would feature “The Vengeance” hunting down the very posh but completely stone-deaf Miss Pross and her grave-robbing sidekick, as they evade capture through the foggy streets and graveyards of old London town.
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