A chat, and the Little Dorrit theme music!

(edited and abridged)

she: did you know
that PBS is re-airing all of Cranford
in December
to prepare us for CRANFORD II: RISE OF THE SPINSTERS
and by that I mean "return to cranford."
WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THAT?

him: omg!!
:)
i will watch some of it with you

she: PLUS they are doing an ALL NIGHT little dorrit marathon on new year's eve
all night baby.
screw going out.
right?

him: YEAH!
@#$%! DAT!
LET'S WATCH SOME ORPHANS GET ABUSED INSTEAD!

she: [snort]
[snort]
that was me doing Mr. Pancks

him: i knew!

me: you're a damn fine gent with no bigad nonsense about you

In honor of said marathon, here's a treat, at long last: the Little Dorrit theme music coutesy of an awesome youtube user named "A Victorian Lady."

Makes me get all weepy and simultaneously creeped out just listening.

Little Dorrit Cleans Up At The Emmys (#littledorrit)

Weren't you all just chuffed to see the miniseries which we all used to watch in the dear departed days now long forgotten (Clenham and Doyce) win so many awards?

Charleybrown at Enchanted Serenity of Period Films has the breakdown of Emmy wins, while my tweep Deane aka Kafkatronic points out that more women-behind-the-screen came out to accept wins for "Little Dorrit' than practically all the American shows put together. Good point! She's a damn fine woman with no bigad nonsense about her.

Here's how to rent it at Netflix.

And learn more about it/ buy it at the PBS store.

And be sure to count to five-and-twenty whenever you are vexed!

PS. Does anyone out there have a recording 0r youtube link of the opening credits music which played so hauntingly everytime someone won an award last night?

The New Sherlock Holmes Adaptation Will Feature... PANCKS!

PANCKS BY A LANDSLIDE! Little Dorrit Poll, The Final Results

Which minor-character quirk/catchphrase in "Little Dorrit" is your favorite?

She is a damn fine woman with no b'God nonsense about her! -- Edmund Sparkler	31 (25%)
Affery, woman, you shall have such a dose--Flintwich	3 (2%)
Altro! Altro!-Cavaletto	4 (3%)
Pancks's emphatic snorting	37 (30%)
In the dear departed days now long forgotten--Flora	17 (13%)
Five-and-twenty, Tatty, five-and-twenty--Meagles	12 (9%)
Anything uttered by Mr. F's Aunt when she is in high spirits	19 (15%)

The insufferable yet somehow likeable Sparkler comes in hot on "Pancks the Gypsy fortune-teller's" heels, bigod! What fun it would be visiting him at the old office of Circomlocution.

I acknowledge, incidentally, that along with Altro! Altro! I should have included Mrs. Plornish translating from the Italian ('im say 'im no likes it!). To be honest, every time she did that in the book I LOLed, and it's not easy to LOL from a book.

Thanks to all who voted ;)

Little Dorrit, Episode 5--FINALE (Guest Blog)

Here is K, of South in the Winter, with her thoughts on the final chapter:

"Hello all! I’m very excited to be blogging about the conclusion of Little Dorrit. Apologies for the delay – I don’t have cable and I trusted to the Internet gods to save me, but as I live in Canada I had some issues with the PBS website. But all is well! I’ve been marathoning this for the past two days…

So we open with Mr. Dorrit back in Venice attempting a marriage proposal. This scene makes me squirmy with discomfort, perhaps because Mrs. General is so insufferable and Mr. Dorrit is so clearly in a state of decline. Side note: who else loves to play the “hey, it’s that character actor!” game? You will note that Mrs. General also played the evil headmistress in Matilda.

The scene where he falls apart at Mrs. Merdle’s farewell ball in Italy is heartbreaking as well. Poor Mr. Dorrit. Remember the scene where Mr. Chivery offers to let him look into the street and the noise and bustle is overwhelming? I imagine that’s what the entire Italian interlude has been. The strain of keeping the past a secret and trying to live in the open after years of confinement is just too much.

And… a double character death. Oh Dickens, why must you tug at my heartstrings so? I’m a cynic, but killing the clarinet-playing uncle is too much. I’ll just weep over here in my corner.

Hee, the Sparklers are quite the comic relief, though. “And just when he was beginning to enjoy society!” Fanny never disappoints.

As Arthur visits Miss Wade, I’m forced to ask: does anyone else find this Miss Wade/Harriet storyline boring and/or just plain odd? This is the only instance of any kind of same-sex relationship in a Dickens novel – correct me if I’m wrong, of course. But I want to see some more. And I don’t mean sex scenes.

Ah, the inevitable reunion between Arthur and Amy! My eyes are watering in preparation. But actually it’s quite restrained, another accidental meeting in the street. Claire Foy is excellent, I must say. I mean, I don’t object to looking at Matthew Macfayden but Foy has a much harder role to pull off. She manages to keep Amy right on the border between "sweet" and "saintly."

And Mr. Merdle commits suicide – in what I excitedly thought was an opium den, but it turns out to be a bathhouse. Most shocking! Wouldn’t it hurt to kill yourself with a pen knife? Apparently all of England is thrown into financial ruin. There’ll be a run on rooms at the Marshalsea!

The shockwaves ripple… the Merdles are ruined, and plan a rather cowardly (but highly entertaining) back-door exit, while Arthur is nobler and heads over to Marshalsea because he’s lost all of his money by investing in Merdle. And so the tables have turned, and the financially solvent become the debtors. I would watch a spinoff of Mrs. Merdle, Fanny and Sparkler trying to survive on nothing but his Circumlocution Office salary, spite, and parrot food. Anyone else?

Arthur is thrown into a fever by his new status as inmate at Marshalsea and has strange dreams. When he wakes, Amy is there. And you know, I think Fellowette is right – it’s not quite the right ending to the longing and restrained love story we’ve been watching. When did he realize he was in love with her? I don’t remember seeing it happen. There’s too much money talk and not enough unburdening of the soul for my liking.

Rigaud makes his reappearance and generally behaves creepily. He lays into Mrs. Clennam but I can’t understand a word of what he’s saying… however, he is threateningly arching his brows and leaning in way too close. I conclude that he is blackmailing her! Interspersed with this are shots of Harriet discovering the Missing Box of Important Papers. And… then she’s gone.

Mrs. Clennam is apparently cured by the power of Rigaud’s insane French accent, because she stumbles off and runs into Amy, telling her the whole confusing story of Arthur’s real parentage. I will admit that I had to look this part up because it puzzled me. And then the Clennam house falls down around Rigaud and Flintwitch. This is one of those dramatic but highly unrealistic Dickensian moments – like the spontaneous combustion in Bleak House – that are completely spectacular. It’s also been heavily foreshadowed, what with all the dust and creaking. I love it! Flintwitch runs through the house trying to escape and Rigaud mutters French curse words as the roof collapses on him.

This is getting too long, sorry. Let’s skip the public shaming of Mr. Casby and move right to the happy ending. John stands by stoically in the yard as Amy enters the Marshalsea. (Oh John. There are plenty of other young ladies out there. Stop making me cry.) Our lovers reunite. It’s sweet, as Arthur picks her up and spins her about, but there isn’t quite enough sweeping emotion for me. In yet another plot twist, Daniel Doyce comes back from Russia having saved the business. Doyce is wearing fur, as all travellers to Russia must.

Wedding scene! Everyone is there – including, inexplicably, Harriet and the Meagles. Where’s Pet? Hopefully not languishing in Italy still. I like that Amy is wearing a purple dress - a lot of the colours thus far (around the Dorrit family in particular) have been subdued greys and violets, and her wedding dress is in the same family but a bit brighter and happier.

And the camera freezes on Little Dorrit, now all grown up, as your cynical heartless blogger wipes away a tear. Dickens and Davies are obviously out to sell a lot of Kleenex to classic novel lovers. The John storyline alone broke my heart repeatedly. I must say, despite the dropped threads of the plot (Pet, Harriet and Miss Wade) and the somewhat disappointing end to the love story, this miniseries was highly entertaining. As always with Dickens, the secondary comic characters are so important, and the casting was uniformly excellent. What did everyone else think?

Thanks so much for the opportunity, Fellowette!"

Little Dorrit Letdown?

While we await the final guestblog, I have to say it's hard to believe the saga of Arthur and Amy and Pancks is over! I thought this was really the BBC/PBS at its finest: every year they do something like this (North and South, Jane Eyre, Cranford) and every year it rocks!. Although there are some problematic elements to the book and film, overall it was incredibly, lushly filmed and acted and the themes were insanely relevant. Dickens hates capitalism and thinks that money=a prison. Shocking!

As to the romance, I wish that some of the exquisite lingering longing from the first three episodes had lasted through the last one. Andrew Davies has a habit of wrapping up those tremulous romances rather pat-ly (see Middlemarch, 1994). Maybe it's his way of commenting on the artificial "end with a wedding" trope or maybe for him, as for all of us, the journey is more fun than the destination. But I was still thoroughly satisfied.

I wanted to point you to a great wrap-up post of the whole series by regular reader and commenter gettsr at reading list of a book pusher. Here is her take on some of the financial goings-on in the series:

Which brings me to Mr. Merdle and Mr. Casby, as well as the Circumlocution office. It is crazy how relevant this story is to our current situation. Mr. Merdle is clearly "the Bernie Madoff" of his age, screwing all the rich folk out of their money while inviting them to dinner. Again if someone is telling you a story that’s too good to be true, it probably is. At the same time Mr. Casby is squeezing the poor out of every nickel so they stay poor. With Pancks as his muscle he works to keep those in Bleeding Heart under his thumb. Clearly Dickens felt that the current economic system in the 19th century only served to hurt the laborer/tradesman. This form of capitalism only served to create another feudal system with Casby as the lord at the top. Dickens caps off his indictment with his portrayal of the bureaucratic horror that is the Circumlocution Office, which actually reminded me of financial aid.

Be sure to read the rest. And don't forget that this is the last day to vote in the Little Dorrit poll!

New Kid on the block-- Dickensblog

The awesome Gina at Dickensblog has a thorough coverage of Little Dorrit. She's doing an awesome job explicating everything, and her latest post is an explanation of the Clenham family secret which I believe, to be blunt, might have confused the crap out of some viewers and readers.

So DO NOT FORGET... to read her blog.

Little Dorrit (#littledorrit) finale Open Thread

So as the photos above evidence I spent the day wandering the wilds of Brooklyn... saw some impressionist paintings by Caillebotte and meandered through the flora and verdant lawns of the Botanical gardens soaking up the unseasonable warmth.

Now I'm overheated and grumpy and actually going to do something I rarely do, which is turn of the computer (so it generates less heat) and focus on the teevee with the lights off.

So here we go. Will Amy and Arthur find happiness at last? What will be the fate of the Merdles? And will Edmund Sparkler find any other woman with no bigod nonsense about her? All these questions I leave you you, fair readers, to answer in comments, on twitter, or otherwise. This has been such an amazing miniseries ride!

Little Dorrit, Episode 4: Setting (Guest Blog)

A guest post from Sarah O, who blogs here and here

Here’s a confession: I’m a historian. A historian who studies landscape. I’m also a chronic daydreamer, and I love picturing how things looked. I can’t take the harbour ferry over to Halifax, Nova Scotia without picturing sloops and brigantines and shabby unpainted buildings huddled under the big star-shaped fort on top of Citadel hill, instead of the modern iteration. So when I watch a costume drama, I want the setting to be as artistically “true” as the acting, costumes, dialogue and plot. The makers of period dramas get to make every-day places look like past places. They get to turn make-believe landscapes into real (if occasionally anachronistic) settings.

I have been watching Little Dorrit looking for the “past landscape,” and then evaluating the production efforts. My criteria are hardly scientific, and I don’t cling to the idea of historical accuracy. Attempts at accuracy do get bonus points, however (especially for observing proper hat etiquette). Here’s my Little Dorrit setting evaluation so far:

In the City: 2.5 out of 5.*

Evaluation criteria for cities in costume dramas: Does it look like a theme park, is it a little too manicured? Do you see any horse poo or gutters? Does the production use the same alley over and over again and pretend it is a different place each time, which makes you start to feel like you’re watching an episode of Star Trek or Battlestar Galactica? Did the producers/director challenge themselves and attempt any wide establishing shots? (Think North and South’s smogging up of Edinburgh to give the impression of Milton/Manchester, or Mary Poppins’ soundstagetacular but atmospheric shots of London’s roofs).

Little Dorrit gets 2.5 out of 5 for London. The film doesn't attempt establishing shots of the city, and they have it pretty easy with being able to show the Marshalsea and the stairway of Doyce and Clennam over and over. They never attempt a long shot of Bleeding Heart Yard, and they are over-using a particular alley (Amy and Maggie’s night out, Clennam seeing Miss Wade and Rigaud, Pancks walking around the city, etc.). Furthermore, the idea of Amy Dorrit hanging out on the banks of the gross stinky refuse-strewn Thames is absolutely ridiculous (and doesn’t really fit the novel – the bridge is meaningful, Andrew Davies). I could have given them a 3 out of 5, but when I remembered how well the recent Oliver Twist series worked in illustrating the London cityscape, I bumped it down to a mere pass.

Abroad: 3 out of 5

This category should be really easy to get right – all I want are big sweeping vistas of Typical Landscape, waterfront shots with all the modern bits left out, and one scene shot in a public square or a castle or a monument – something I could visit as a tourist if I ever travelled to the same place some day. Now, someone might ask me to be gentle and consider a filmmaker’s budget, but I say hooey! The Princess Bride has a ridiculously soundstagey look to it, but the Cliffs of Despair scene is made on the basis of that long shot of Andre the Giant climbing up the rope, and I frequently replay the scene in my head of Princess Buttercup and Wesley falling down that steep grassy hill. I don’t care if they shoot the action on site, I just want the pretty pictures.

I love the idea of the Dorrit family making the Grand Tour, so I wanted to see ridiculously gothic-influenced shots of the Alps and really see the murky decay of Venice that Dickens emphasized so much in the novel. While I understand leaving out the visit to Rome simplifies the story, it also limits the location shots. I liked the lighting styles they used to evoke these places. Venice was pretty much the first time the filmmakers attempted a decent establishing landscape shot, and I thought the interiors were nice. Still, it was no Room With A View.

In the Country: 4 out of 5

Country settings are kinda easy. See: Most Jane Austen adaptations. I know that producers sometimes have to cart in gravel and hide streetlights and use some tricky camera angles when shooting in towns (did you see the video about shooting the new Emma?), but rural areas are easy for a few reasons. One, there is more to choose from, and there is less built-up area to ruin the illusion. Two, rich people’s houses last longer than poor people’s houses, so movies involving rich people don’t have to go far to find a fancy house. Three, rural areas seem to be easier to modify - facades of cottages are not that expensive to plunk down in the middle of a field – and inconsistencies are easier to ignore – most viewers don’t care if a hedgerow is anachronistic to the period of the film.

Little Dorrit doesn’t really have a country setting, but I used the Meagles house as my basis. I was mainly struck by the gardens. Lots of garden designers will tell you never to mix red and yellow together in a border, but the Meagles garden broke the rules and was perfect. For its use of dahlias alone (although they were not really hybridized commonly until the 1850s – see: accuracy not that important), I would give it 5 out of 5, but that is even more arbitrary than my usual approach. I give points for the hedge (it seemed to suit the personalities of the family and how they tried to shelter their daughter) – but subtract points for not a single chicken, sheep, cow, or donkey. Not that any of those are in the book, but I want them. You will note I did not mention pigs (*coughP&P05cough!*).

So: How important is the setting to you when it comes to costume dramas, and what do you look for? Are you pleased with the Little Dorrit settings? More importantly, do you think they revealed important aspects of the character's personalities, or helped set the tone for the action?

*A question of accuracy, however: I missed the first 45 mins. of episode 1, and I don't mention it in my notes so I can't be sure - are there any establishing shots of London in the miniseries?

Thanks, Sarah O, from Fellow-ette. And readers, feel free to comment on Sarah's post or any other developments in the miniseries below!

New Poll: Which minor-character catchphrase in "Little Dorrit" is your favorite?

Ten days to answer, at the top of the page.

Are there any missing that are so obvious I'm, to quote Edmund Sparkler, not quite up to the mark in the subject? Let me know in comments.

Which minor-character catchphrase in "Little Dorrit" is your favorite?

She is a damn fine woman with no b'God nonsense about her! -- Edmund Sparkler	0 (0%)
Affery, woman, you shall have such a dose--Flintwich	0 (0%)
Altro! Altro!-Cavaletto	0 (0%)
Pancks's emphatic snorting	0 (0%)
In the dear departed days now long forgotten--Flora	0 (0%)
Five-and-twenty, Tatty, five-and-twenty--Meagles	0 (0%)
Anything uttered by Mr. F's Aunt when she is in high spirits	0 (o%)

#LittleDorrit: Share your Little Dorrit thoughts on Twitter

And speaking of literary tweets... So tonight is installment 4 of 5. People are actually using the #littledorrit hashtag as evidenced above to discuss important issues like whether Amy is a Mary-Sue, how obnoxious Mr. Dorrit is getting, whether Chivery or Clenham is the most eligible lovah and most importantly HOW ON EARTH we shall pass the time between installments. My heavens!

Please join the discussion here by using this hashtag #littledorrit or just tweeting your thoughts about the show.

And as always, feel free to drop your burning comments or questions about Clenham and Doyce and the Dorrits below (in our new spanking comments form!)

Little Dorrit, Episode 3 (Guest Blog)

Guest Post by Catherine of restlessviolet.com

Installation 3 of Dickens’ workaholic machine made into a movie! I was pretty stoked from last week’s preview of this episode. Fortunes would be restored! People would get new clothes! The handsome Mr. Clennam would smile some more! Perhaps Fanny Dorrit would lose the makeup!

But alas, Installation 3 reminded me very much of my friend’s waitressing shift today. “Everyone was crabby and mean and nobody tipped well,” she reported after escaping from Red Lobster hell.

And speaking of hell, what’s with Monsieur Rigaud? (I can’t keep track of his new incognito name in this episode.) I might have taken French all through high school but when he speaks, I just strain. (“Huh?” Rewind. “Oh.”)

But moving on to the real hell… Dear Dad Dorrit got his earthly reward for suffering through debtor’s prison: money, a house and Mrs. General. He’s continuing on in a sort of King Lear stupidity (before the madness set in), dragging all assorted baggage with him which includes children, brother and Mrs. G. Last week’s ominous scene of Dad Dorrit being to afraid to stroll out of debtor’s prison when the chance was offered hinted at so much badness. He does his bad well in this episode, being generally insufferable and pompous (but more on that later).

And to counter him is his daughter. Though Amy is portrayed as our heroine, a woman without a speck of wrong in her heart, I have some major doubts about her. Andrew Davies claims he toned down the goodness of Dickens’ Victorian Amy and no doubt he did. Our post-deconstructionist ears and eyes could hardly bear it if he had not. Still, though…despite taking in account that Amy is a product of her times, I have serious doubts on Little Dorrit.

This came to light quite early in the episode. Dad casts Clennam out -- the man who went to some lengths to restore him -- and throws the most painful rant about paying him the measly 20 something pounds Clennam gave to him in the past. Clennam doesn’t want it but Dad insists on payment and receipt. Which is all so ludicrous in the face of the thousand pounds owed to Mr. Pancks for the work he did to discover the Dorrit fortune. Pancks will never see the light of that from Dad Dorrit, and Clennam will undoubtedly pay, but we’ll see less smiles from Matthew MacFayden because of it. You suck, Dad.

But yes, anyway. To continue, Clennam leaves rather insulted by Dad and Amy rushes off to try and make amends. And what happens?

“Stay here, Amy. Are you going to do as I say?”

“I will, Father, but it is hard.”

Oh Amy, how wonderful you are. You obey your narcissist father and you also throw the button away of a man you love when you think you can’t have him (cue Harriet Smith). You meet self-sacrifice with a few tears but mostly smiles.

No doubt about it, Amy is all about the duty. But this tears at me because the Victorians were all about duty and they fully embraced the frightening self-abnegation of it all.

Dickens, duty and women bring us to someone else who was on the screen a few years ago: Bleak House’s Esther Summerson. Esther’s a good girl too, and she does her duty as well. She too is surrounded by circumstances beyond her control; circumstances that control her situation in life fully. And while Esther submits with grace, she does so without seeming weak. There’s something strong in Esther and one gets the idea that despite her difficult circumstances, she deliberately thinks out her choices and resolves to do whatever she thinks as best, no matter how hard that choice is.

Amy, however…she’ll do her duty because she’s the good character. I never believe that Amy is weighing her choices; she just does the seemingly-good over and over to the point of mindlessness. Yes, father, I will obey you because I must honor you as I always honor you. I am your favorite because I rarely, if ever, cross you and always comfort you after your raging monologues that only serve to reveal your insufferable pride.

Amy Dorrit: Daughter who honors her father, or the enabler of an arrogant old man? Or are these really just the same things, one being an euphemism... As you can see, I’m full of a doubts about Little Dorrit.

With Miss Wade however, there aren’t doubts, just mysteries. She may just be the balance to Amy’s automaton “good girl” behavior. Is she a Victorian Feminist Fury or merely someone bent on making Mr. Meagles red in the face? If she gets Mr. Gowan shived in the gut by Rigaud, I may love her forever.

Finally, yes there are new dresses (thank God). And no, Fanny Dorrit doesn’t lose the makeup. Le sigh.

Little Dorrit Time. R U READY For Installment Three?

Here it comes, down the pipes. Time to get our Dickens on!

• Enchanted Serenity of Period Films has a detailed list of characters from the series and snippets of interviews with their actors.
  
• And Amy at Romancing the Tome has a list of famous celebrities who've appeared in Dickens adaptations. To that list I would add the immortal Paul Scofield in the title role of Martin Chuzzlewit back in the 90s. Good stuff.

Andrew Davies on Little Dorrit and Dickens vs. Austen

There's a great interview up at PBS with beloved and sometimes-frustrating screenwriter Andrew Davies on adapting "Little Dorrit" and the differences and similarities between adapting Dickens and Austen for the small screen. It's quite good and worth the four minutes... the site also has clips with him and Claire Foy as well as the first two episodes, all available for your viewing pleasure.

Little Dorritt Episode Two (a live-guest-blog!)

Episode 2

Guest Blog Post by a TRUE egalitarian bookworm chick, Beth Dunn

Story of my life: I always love all the wrong people. All throughout the Harry Potter movie series, I was that creepy 30-something in the back row, moaning in erotic bliss whenever Snape oozed across the screen. Could have used an occasional shower, sure, but Christ that voice.

Trouble is, once I fall in love with one of your former characters, it is almost impossible to make me hate you even when you play a baddie. OK ESPECIALLY when you play a baddie. Because that just plays into my already well established ATTRACTION to baddies, and what you get is, well…

…me, sitting down to watch the second episode of Little Dorrit (which no I haven’t read or ever watched or anything before I am as untouched as Darcy’s precious little sister), and I am already rooting HARD for Dan Pegotty Flintwitch to pitch that cranky old lady down the stairs one of these dark, rainy nights. Just for not ever letting dreamy old Arthur ever touch her. I mean, honestly. When has young Clennam ever heard “don’t touch me” from a lady? C’MERE YOU.

And of course Andy Serkis Gollem Rigaud can roll his wicked old eyes at me anytime. LOVE him. Randy old bugger.

So yes, I suppose my other inclinations and affiliations are all as Mr. Dickens would have them be right now, as we begin episode two (which God knows was probably episode 317 back when he was serializing this stuff in teasing little thimble-sized doses in The Journals Of The Day). I’m quite in love with young Arthur Clennam, half in love with that puppy at the gate of the jail, and… I can’t stand Pet. So I’ve got that much right, at least.

But I am also secretly sort of in love with Miss Ward, who will no doubt reward me for my affection one of these days with unspeakable cruelty and wickedness.

I can only hope.

SO. Episode two. I am a big fan of the Live Blog format, so I have been typing all these prologue-y musings with the beginning of the episode on freeze frame – the new PBS intro music, really, accessorized with the lovely Colin Firth’s face beaming at me (quite insupportably) through gauzy red curtains. Let’s put him out of his adorableness and hit PLAY.

Ah! Puppy! Young John Chivery! And the elder Mr. Dorrit! Let us begin.

Have I mentioned yet that I covet those soft caps worn by doddering old gentlemen in these things? They look so COMFORTABLE. One can hardly get a good doddering on without one.

Ooh, Pet has an evil emo interloper suitor. He looks like that insufferable twit with the hair in his face from Mansfield Park. Well good. He can have her, silly little simpering thing with an overbite.

Here comes Puppy, literally cap in hand, to propose to Amy by the river.

(What was that old comic bit? Don’t go to the river!!!)

Aw crap, this proposal scene is going to hurt, isn’t it. John is such an adorable little thing, and so openhearted and kind and pure and OH GOD NO JOHN DON’T CRY.

Oh don’t cry. Oh how awful. Excuse me. I need to hit pause and sob alone for a few minutes. Crap crap crap crap crap.

Way to rip my heart out in the first bloody five minutes of the episode, assholes. Goddammit.

OK. Better stock up on tissues and settle down.

Meanwhile, back in the land of the Upper Class Twit, Young Clennam is inexplicably captivated by the kind of empty-headed blond girl-child apparently favored by gentlemen of his class. Look at him. He’s got actual stars in his eyes.

HEY ASSHOLE. Amy is over here breaking her best friend’s heart by the river, all so she can keep fingering your button. Show a little respect.

Tattycoram is the only one in the drawing room with any sense of decorum, and storms out of this putrid scene, apparently aghast at the awfulness of it all. Good instincts, kid. Very sound.

Father Dorrit is rather adorable, in his soft knit cap and his self-delusional grandstanding with his brother. But I do wish he would catch on and stop being so damn tactless with Chivery senior, while John is inside licking his wounds…

Oh god no more crying. William Dorrit’s little monologue of distress, after he sees Amy weeping with the sadness of it all, and then he realizes what a sad, selfish, tactless Dad he has been, is killing me. Crying Dads really get to me, too.

Why did I get assigned the Crying Episode? This is going to take me forever to get through, what with all the pausing and the weeping.

Thank god, now we can get back to some good old-fashioned evil-watching with Rigaud and Pegotty Flintwitch-the-Inexplicably-Other crossing paths. Hilarity can only ensue.

Oh lord, Flintwitch, don’t be drunkenly lured down dark alleys – NEAR THE RIVER NO LESS – by handsome, hairy Frenchmen who slip you roofies in your wine. RULES TO LIVE BY.

Stabby stabby stabby SPLASH. Happens every time. What an enthusiastic murderer Monsieur Rigaud is turning out to be.

What a MARVELOUS exchange between the little sharpie Fanny and the big sharpie, young Sparkler’s ma. Not much separates those two, when you get right down to it.

Oh God, Rigaud smells like my first boyfriend. YES I CAN SMELL HIM THROUGH THE TV SET. Like… unwashed denim and thrift shop leather jacket. Yum.

So Amy is going to work for shy, retiring little Flora, now. That ought to produce some heartfelt confidences.

Hey HEY and why not get started on that agenda right away?

Flora: “ILOVEARTHURCLENNAM ILOVEARTHURCLENNAM ILOVEARTHURLENNAM OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH YESIDOOOOO”

OOH Amy you industrious little fairy. Good job outta you, bearing up under that verbal flood.

AH YES and now the RIGHT man walks down the stairs by the river to talk to Little Dorrit. Well hello, Arthur. And what do you have to say for yourself?

Arthur: “I understand these matters of the heart, Amy… There’s someone I care about, very much. And I have held back from declaring my love.”

Amy: “…”

Arthur: “You don’t know her.”

OH SMACK. More crying by the river.

Arthur: “Are we still friends?”

Amy: “Yes, (SOB) we’re still friends.”

Yep. I’ve had that conversation.

Hey everybody, I know! Let’s all fight with our families and then go back to the river. And cry.

Swear to GOD Amy if you throw that button in the river I will smack you so hard

crap.

Nobody ever listens to me.

Mr. Pancks indulges in a nice bit of foreshadowing, grabbing Amy’s palm and going all gypsy on it. He is starting to really like his job, I think.

And Dickensian Italian Stereotype Mr. Cavaletto is clearly getting laid in his new digs with Mrs. Plawdish. Good for him. Good for Mrs. Plawdish. Oh wait, Mr. Plawdish is still alive. Whoops. My bad.

AAAHHHH ANDREW DAVIES I BLAME YOU for that awful shot of Mr. Doice with the steam coming out of his ears, followed by sad little spurts of water!!! You sir will have to answer for THAT in hell. (as for so much else…)

Now Clennam is making his sweet, ill-considered offer of marriage to Pet. And another proposal bites the dust. No crying in this one, though. Nope. Clennam thinks about it for a second, notices (finally) that Pet’s upper lip is always blue with frostbite from hanging a foot away from the rest of her face, and laughs with the sheer joy of escape. Dodged a bullet that time, m’boy.

He even goes so far as to wish the two lovers well. Yes, I’m sure you’ll both be very very happy, you frightful, insipid, worthless little twerps.

Good day!

Mr. Chivery and Mr. Dorrit make up and restore their friendship after Amy breaks John’s heart forever, and in return Mr. Chivery offers to mock Mr. Dorrit with a glimpse of the world he can never have again. And in a surprise move to none, Mr. Dorrit is completely institutionalized, and can’t even step outside.

Get busy living, or get busy dying. “IT’S HIM! With the CAKE!!!” Maggy knows what she likes in a man.

“Has Mr. Clennam behaved improperly towards you?”

“No, father, not at all.” THAT’S THE PROBLEM, FATHER

Aaaaaand Tattycoram is ready for her long-awaited psychotic break.

Good for her. Every teenager needs a good psychotic break now and again.

Let’s see just what sort of wickedness that Miss Wade is up to anyway.

…huh. Seems like a nice enough lady to me. I suppose I’ll find out more about her LATER.
I have to say that Mr. Pancks is rapidly becoming a crowd favorite.

He is clearly so VERY pleased with himself, so transparently not here to wish Mrs. Clennam her good health! Snort snort chuckle snort! (OH he has made me clap my hands in delight!) Uncle Ned is dead, is he? IS HE???

I smell Dickensian-deus-ex-machina!!! Wheee!

And we close with my great smelling ex-boyfriend Rigaud arriving on the very doorstep of the House of Clennam. Whomever will he penetrate murder next?

STAY TUNED

(And thank you for letting me guest-blog! What fun!)

[you're more than welcome--Fellow-ette]

Little Dorrit Episode 1

Little Dorrit: Episode 1

Guest post by two of my absolute favorite ladies in the blogosphere, Kim and Amy of Romancing the Tome.

Debt.

Can’t we all relate? It might technically be called a “prison,”but truth be told, the Marshalsea didn’t look half bad during last night’s U.S. premiere of Little Dorrit. So let’s pretend that the Dorrits’ digs didn’t exceed, in square footage, that of our own humble abodes for which we pay an arm and a leg. Let’s just pretend we wouldn’t kill for a fawning “doorman” like John Chivery to stroke our egos day-in and day-out. Instead, let’s reflect on a few of the things we learned from Installment #1 of the Charles Dickens classic:

•In the market for a new job? Take heed: If your prospective employer says, “I’m a terror when roused,” it might not be an ideal employment situation. Especially when the office resembles the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.

•Travel in Victorian England was almost as inconvenient as it is today. Still, being quarantined in Marseilles beats getting stuck on the tarmac in a cramped, foul-smelling metal tube.

•When you feel tempted to bash in your sort-of sister’s skull with a lawn bowling ball or are otherwise reduced to a state of spastic rage, try counting to five-and-twenty. Or, seek solace and
counsel from a creepily sympathetic closet case.

•When you refer to your hot and gentlemanly son as a “vessel of sin,” you should understand that for some red-blooded female viewers, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Not in the least.

•Hospital food was once pretty decent, if Maggie is any arbiter. Also, when she was rolling around in Arthur’s bed eating cake, we have to admit were a little jealous. That’s our idea of a good time.

•Dads are soooooo embarrassing!

•Sometimes, a “gentleman” and a “scoundrel” are one and the same. Sadly, this is all too true.

•Amy Dorrit is not the sort of girl you could have a nice bitch fest or gossip session with, but let’s all breathe a big sigh of relief that actress Claire Foy managed to strain out some of the saccharine, at least. She’s a little unbearable in the book.

•When two clever ones tell you you’re getting married, it’s pointless to resist. Poor Affery!

•It’s okay to hate someone named “Pet,” because they probably really are kind of annoying.

• Lascivious Frenchmen? Not to be trusted — or slept with.

•The Circumlocution Office: The more things change, the more they stay the same. Was that Barney Frank and Harry Reid?

• Women in China are different “down there,” pigtails on women of a certain age are not becoming, and sometimes, misty-watercolored memories of the childhood sweetheart you were
cruelly separated from are best not revisited. Also, in interior design, a little bit of pink goes a long way.

•Stray buttons are sexy.

And finally, yes, we know the Marshalsea was really overflowing with wastewater and the smell of privies, but we are completely enraptured by this first episode in the series anyway and love the Gothic touches reminiscent of the Bleak House adaptation. As in the book, Little Dorrit has proved well worth the wait...

Thanks so much to Amy and Kim! I'll never forget that you guys linked to me when I was just starting this blog (and I begged you to.) Your wit is unparalleled. And next week, tune in to a review from the highly-esteemed BethDunn.

#LittleDorrit Hashtag for Literary TweetersI

In an effort to be whimsical, I am trying to start a Little Dorrit hashtag that we can use for the next five weeks while it's on to talk about it over the twitterwaves. It's #littledorrit.

You can start out by just searching other for Dorrit lovers here: http://tinyurl.com/cl85yf

And yes, in case, you're wondering I did absolutely love it.

The Times Hearts Little Dorrit

The Times' Alessandra Stanley spends much time, as everyone is rightly doing, pointing out the timely and remarkable parallel between Dickens' great financial swindler Mr. Merdle and the real-life Bernie Madoff. All in all she gives the new series an excellent review and notes, as I did in my review of the book, how superior the "in-between" characters in the novel are to the good and bad ones.

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Both Ms. Foy, as Amy, and Mr. Macfadyen, as Clennam, are persuasive and touching. But William Dorrit is at the core of this tale, and Mr. Courtenay does the role full justice, layering the pathos of the elderly debtor with rich swaths of self-pity and vanity.

Mr. Merdle’s fund is too good to be true, but “Little Dorrit” lives up to Dickens’s every word.

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Make sure to tune in soon for a guest-review from Romancing the Tome's Kim and Amy, and feel free to drop your initial impressions in the comments section below.

Little Dorrit Guest-Blogging Schedule

(http://www.vertex42.com/calendars/2009-calendar-clipart.html)

Alea Iacta Est! The die has been cast, the cast has been chosen, and we have, to quote Sylvia Plath, "boarded the train there's not getting off." In other words, I have my roster of guest-bloggers for the five weeks of Little Dorrit! The rules are simple: there are none. The guest-posts won't be formal, or necessarily a live-blog, or a comparison to the book, or arrive immediately after the installment airs, because that's not how Egalitarian Bookworm Chicks roll, okay? The posts will be witty, and incisive, show up within a few days of the installment and eagerly await your comments!

Installment 1, March 29: the formidable Kim and Amy

Installment 2, April 5th: the highly-esteemed BethDunn

Installment 3, April 12th: the irrepressible Catherine

Installment 4, April 19th: the keen Sarah O

Installment 5, April 26th: the delightful K

Thanks to all these awesome sisters-in-bloggage for agreeing to do this and I hope you will all visit their sites and read more of their brilliance.

I really appreciate the comments that have started flowing into the site and all the great discussions we've been having, so thanks to everyone who comments. If you are a regular reader and you want to guest-blog here or cross-post or otherwise sow the seats of social amiablity on the intertubes, just let me know!

Also, when the time comes, I think we should start a twitter hashtag for LD. How about, hmm, I dunno, #littledorrit ?

That's all for now, folks. I'm looking forward to this Masterpiece-free weekend so I can focus on the "Big Love" season finale.

Planning on Watching Little Dorrit? Want to Guest Blog an Episode?

Hey Dickens-lovers. I thought I'd invite four or five of you regular readers (you know who you are!) to guest blog an episode of the long month of Little Dorrit. If you're planning on watching the mini-series (starts March 29th, ends April 26th, every Sunday night + episodes online) let me know in comments or via email, I'll assign you a night to guest blog, and we'll work out the deets. Word! Here's hoping this works.