Dombey and Son

Charles Dickens

Description

Charles Dickens' Dombey and Son tells the story of the wealthy owner of a shipping company, Paul Dombey, who dreams of having a son to carry on the family business. It deals with themes such as marriage for financial gain, cruelty towards children, family relationships, pride, arrogance, betrayal and the destructive effects of industrialization.

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2009
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775410713
• Langue: English

Extrait

DOMBEY AND SON
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CHARLES DICKENS
 
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Dombey and Son First published in 1848.
ISBN 978-1-775410-71-3
© 2009 THE FLOATING PRESS.
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
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Contents
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Preface of 1848 Preface of 1867 Chapter 1 - Dombey and Son Chapter 2 - In Which Timely Provision is Made for an Emergency thatWill Sometimes Arise in the Best-Regulated Families Chapter 3 - In Which Mr Dombey, as a Man and a Father, is Seen at theHead of the Home-Department Chapter 4 - In Which Some More First Appearances Are Made on the Stage of TheseAdventures Chapter 5 - Paul's Progress and Christening Chapter 6 - Paul's Second Deprivation Chapter 7 - A Bird's-Eye Glimpse of Miss Tox's Dwelling-Place: Alsoof the State of Miss Tox's Affections Chapter 8 - Paul's Further Progress, Growth and Character Chapter 9 - In Which the Wooden Midshipman Gets into Trouble Chapter 10 - Containing the Sequel of the Midshipman's Disaster Chapter 11 - Paul's Introduction to a New Scene Chapter 12 - Paul's Education Chapter 13 - Shipping Intelligence and Office Business Chapter 14 - Paul Grows More and More Old-Fashioned, and Goes Home for the Holidays Chapter 15 - Amazing Artfulness of Captain Cuttle, and a New Pursuit for Walter Gay Chapter 16 - What the Waves Were Always Saying Chapter 17 - Captain Cuttle Does a Little Business for the Young People Chapter 18 - Father and Daughter Chapter 19 - Walter Goes Away Chapter 20 - Mr Dombey Goes Upon a Journey Chapter 21 - New Faces Chapter 22 - A Trifle of Management by Mr Carker the Manager Chapter 23 - Florence Solitary, and the Midshipman Mysterious Chapter 24 - The Study of a Loving Heart Chapter 25 - Strange News of Uncle Sol Chapter 26 - Shadows of the Past and Future Chapter 27 - Deeper Shadows Chapter 28 - Alterations Chapter 29 - The Opening of the Eyes of Mrs Chick Chapter 30 - The Interval Before the Marriage Chapter 31 - The Wedding Chapter 32 - The Wooden Midshipman Goes to Pieces Chapter 33 - Contrasts Chapter 34 - Another Mother and Daughter Chapter 35 - The Happy Pair Chapter 36 - Housewarming Chapter 37 - More Warnings than One Chapter 38 - Miss Tox Improves an Old Acquaintance Chapter 39 - Further Adventures of Captain Edward Cuttle, Mariner Chapter 40 - Domestic Relations Chapter 41 - New Voices in the Waves Chapter 42 - Confidential and Accidental Chapter 43 - The Watches of the Night Chapter 44 - A Separation Chapter 45 - The Trusty Agent Chapter 46 - Recognizant and Reflective Chapter 47 - The Thunderbolt Chapter 48 - The Flight of Florence Chapter 49 - The Midshipman Makes a Discovery Chapter 50 - Mr Toots's Complaint Chapter 51 - Mr Dombey and the World Chapter 52 - Secret Intelligence Chapter 53 - More Intelligence Chapter 54 - The Fugitives Chapter 55 - Rob the Grinder Loses His Place Chapter 56 - Several People Delighted, and the Game Chicken Disgusted Chapter 57 - Another Wedding Chapter 58 - After a Lapse Chapter 59 - Retribution Chapter 60 - Chiefly Matrimonial Chapter 61 - Relenting Chapter 62 - Final
Preface of 1848
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I cannot forego my usual opportunity of sayingfarewell to my readers in this greetingplace,though I have only to acknowledge the unboundedwarmth and earnestness of their sympathy in everystage of the journey we have just concluded.
If any of them have felt a sorrow in one of theprincipal incidents on which this fiction turns, Ihope it may be a sorrow of that sort which endearsthe sharers in it, one to another. This is notunselfish in me. I may claim to have felt it, at leastas much as anybody else; and I would fain beremembered kindly for my part in the experience.
DEVONSHIRE TERRACE,Twenty-Fourth March, 1848.
Preface of 1867
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I make so bold as to believe that the faculty (or the habit) ofcorrectly observing the characters of men, is a rare one. I have noteven found, within my experience, that the faculty (or the habit) ofcorrectly observing so much as the faces of men, is a general oneby any means. The two commonest mistakes in judgement that Isuppose to arise from the former default, are, the confounding ofshyness with arrogance - a very common mistake indeed - and thenot understanding that an obstinate nature exists in a perpetualstruggle with itself.
Mr Dombey undergoes no violent change, either in this book, orin real life. A sense of his injustice is within him, all along. Themore he represses it, the more unjust he necessarily is. Internalshame and external circumstances may bring the contest to a closein a week, or a day; but, it has been a contest for years, and is onlyfought out after a long balance of victory.
I began this book by the Lake of Geneva, and went on with itfor some months in France, before pursuing it in England. Theassociation between the writing and the place of writing is socuriously strong in my mind, that at this day, although I know, inmy fancy, every stair in the little midshipman's house, and couldswear to every pew in the church in which Florence was married,or to every young gentleman's bedstead in Doctor Blimber'sestablishment, I yet confusedly imagine Captain Cuttle as secludinghimself from Mrs MacStinger among the mountains of Switzerland.Similarly, when I am reminded by any chance of what it wasthat the waves were always saying, my remembrance wanders fora whole winter night about the streets of Paris - as I restlessly didwith a heavy heart, on the night when I had written the chapter inwhich my little friend and I parted company.
Chapter 1 - Dombey and Son
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Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in the greatarm-chair by the bedside, and Son lay tucked up warm in a littlebasket bedstead, carefully disposed on a low settee immediately infront of the fire and close to it, as if his constitution wereanalogous to that of a muffin, and it was essential to toast him brownwhile he was very new.
Dombey was about eight-and-forty years of age. Son abouteight-and-forty minutes. Dombey was rather bald, rather red, andthough a handsome well-made man, too stern and pompous in appearance,to be prepossessing. Son was very bald, and very red, and though (ofcourse) an undeniably fine infant, somewhat crushed and spotty in hisgeneral effect, as yet. On the brow of Dombey, Time and his brotherCare had set some marks, as on a tree that was to come down in goodtime - remorseless twins they are for striding through their humanforests, notching as they go - while the countenance of Son wascrossed with a thousand little creases, which the same deceitful Timewould take delight in smoothing out and wearing away with the flatpart of his scythe, as a preparation of the surface for his deeperoperations.
Dombey, exulting in the long-looked-for event, jingled and jingledthe heavy gold watch-chain that depended from below his trim bluecoat, whereof the buttons sparkled phosphorescently in the feeble raysof the distant fire. Son, with his little fists curled up andclenched, seemed, in his feeble way, to be squaring at existence forhaving come upon him so unexpectedly.
'The House will once again, Mrs Dombey,' said Mr Dombey, 'be notonly in name but in fact Dombey and Son;' and he added, in a tone ofluxurious satisfaction, with his eyes half-closed as if he werereading the name in a device of flowers, and inhaling their fragranceat the same time; 'Dom-bey and Son!'
The words had such a softening influence, that he appended a termof endearment to Mrs Dombey's name (though not without somehesitation, as being a man but little used to that form of address):and said, 'Mrs Dombey, my - my dear.'
A transient flush of faint surprise overspread the sick lady's faceas she raised her eyes towards him.
'He will be christened Paul, my - Mrs Dombey - of course.'
She feebly echoed, 'Of course,' or rather expressed it by themotion of her lips, and closed her eyes again.
'His father's name, Mrs Dombey, and his grandfather's! I wish hisgrandfather were alive this day! There is some inconvenience in thenecessity of writing Junior,' said Mr Dombey, making a fictitiousautograph on his knee; 'but it is merely of a private and personalcomplexion. It doesn't enter into the correspondence of the House. Itssignature remains the same.' And again he said 'Dombey and Son, inexactly the same tone as before.
Those three words conveyed the one idea of Mr Dombey's life. Theearth was made for Dombey and Son to trade in, and the sun and moonwere made to give them light. Rivers and seas were formed to floattheir ships; rainbows gave them promise of fair weather; winds blewfor or against their enterprises; stars and planets circled in theirorbits, to preserve inviolate a system of which they were the centre.Common abbreviations took new meanings in his eyes, and had solereference to them. A. D. had no concern with Anno Domini, but stoodfor anno Dombei - and Son.
He had risen, as his father had before him, in the course of lifeand death, from Son to Dombey, and for nearly twenty years had beenthe sole representative of the Firm. Of those years he had beenmarried, ten - married, as some said, to a lady with no heart to givehim; whose happiness was in the past, and who was content to bind herbroken spirit to the dutiful and meek endurance of the present. Suchidle talk was little likely to reach the ears of Mr Dombey, whom itnearly concerned; and probably no one in the world would have receivedit with such utter incredulity as he, if it had reached him. Dombeyand Son had often dealt in hides, but never in hearts. They left thatfancy ware to boys and girls, and boar