Welcome friends and neighbors and thank you for joining me on my inaugural journey of Charles Dickens’ 1859 classic novel. To start, here is a comprehensive list of all the things I know about A Tale of Two Cities:
1) It starts with the line “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”
2) I think it ends with someone being hanged and saying “My only regret is that I have but one life to give for my country.” I could be confusing this with some other book though.
3) It presumably involves stories that take place in more than one city.
Armed with that knowledge, and that knowledge alone, I begin the book. I decided to avoid the Googles. I did read the first few paragraphs to establish that it takes place during the French Revolution, but stopped as soon as it got into spoiler territory. So, without further adieu, I begin the definitive, objective summarization:
This book is broken into three parts, or books, as I hear most novels were at the time since they could only bind books at a certain thickness. And also probably to boost sales. In this one they are titled BOOK THE FIRST, BOOK THE SECOND, and….wait for it…..BOOK THE THIRD. Really broke the mold with the title of the last part, didn’t he? In this article we will cover the entirety of BOOK THE FIRST. Don’t worry, it is not a full third of the book, it is more like 40 pages out of 300. BOOK THE SECOND and BOOK THE THIRD will take multiple entries each.
BOOK THE FIRST
RECALLED TO LIFE
Chapter 1
The Period
It was the best of Shires, it was the Worcestershires. It was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness. It was the time of next-day delivery, it was the time of pop-up ads. It was the age of cat videos, it was age of conspiracy theories. It was the delight of pineapple on pizza, it was the horror of pineapple on pizza, depending on your attitude towards cooked fruit.
(Side note, cooked fruit is terrible and every decent person knows it.)
The author then mentions a few historical oddities I had to look up including Mrs. Southcott (a self -proclaimed prophetess of the apocalypse) and the Cock-Lane ghost (a haunting hoax completely unrelated to roosters or alpha males.)
France is apparently very muddy and fond of extreme punishments for minor crimes. Meanwhile highway robbery has become a national pastime in England. People are warned to put their furniture in storage before leaving town so it doesn’t get stolen, and then robbed and killed to death on the road. Sounds like a sweet deal for Big Storage.
All in all sounds like everyone is having the Worcestershires. I guess we’ll wait and see when the best of Shires comes in. I bet it’s gonna be in the form of pineapple on pizza: not the worst thing that could happen, but more like the silver lining of getting only half your house robbed.
Chapter 2
The Mail
The year is 1775. The first of our protagonists is heading up a hill with the cheerful name “Shooter’s Hill.” In the mud. And the fog. At night. Presumably it will be uphill both ways. Along with our hero is a coach designed for the transportation of both mail and passengers, called “The Mail” as well as three fellow passengers, and two drivers. The horses are tired AF and not totally not having it but the drivers persuade them to keep going with whips. The “passengers” are not riding, but in fact they are walking next to the tired AF horse. Everyone is afraid everyone else might secretly be a robber. So far this book is off to a cheery start, let me tell you.
They get to the top of Shooter’s Hill and are all about to climb back in the coach when a guy gallops up from the other side. Everyone is much distrust of everyone else because the scene that has been set is unlikely to be a happy one. Galloping man, whose name is Jerry, asks for one of the passengers, Jarvis Lorry. The coachman proceeds to spend two full paragraphs how he will 100% shoot Jerry if he does anything sus, so Jerry approaches very slowly after said warning.
Jerry, it turns out, is a messenger from a bank and hands Jarvis a note, which reads “Wait at Dover for mam’seille.” To which he tells Jerry to respond with “RECALLED TO LIFE.” This is not at all a cryptic and worrisome message to the already edgy passengers and coachman. After the message is delivered the Mail everyone goes on it’s soggy, muddy way, super stoked to not be murderified.
Chapter 3
The Night Shadows
The author muses about how everyone is a secret mystery to everyone else. Every town is full of secrets. Each house holds secrets, and each room holds more secrets, and each person in each room is a secret. Its like an In-secret-tion. Everyone’s internal monologue is totally unknowable to everyone else, and also everyone will eventually die and take their secrets with them, so really they are forever secrets. This book is thus far an inspiration that fills me with warm fuzzies.
Our buddy Jerry slowly travels back to the bank and stops at taverns. He is described as having close set, dark, evil looking eyes, male pattern baldness, and hair so spiky that no one would dare play leap frog with him lest they get impaled. Why grown men would be playing leapfrog is beyond me, but maybe that was a thing back in the day? In reviewing this blog, Colleen asked if this was an actual comparison, since I have a penchant for hyperbole, so yes, it is real. The actual quotation reads:
Except on the crown, which was raggedly bald, he had stiff, black hair, standing jaggedly all over it, and growing down hill almost to his broad, blunt nose. It was so like Smith’s work, so much more like the top of a strongly spiked wall than a head of hair, that the best players at leap frog might have declined him, as the most dangerous man in the world to go over.
Meanwhile our hero Jarvis is dozing in the coach and dreaming about digging someone up. Must be one of those annoying dreams where you half wake up then fall right back into it, cuz it is always a 46-year-old man who declares he has been buried alive for the past 18 years but is recalled to life. Jarvis asks if he wants to be shown to “her” and gets various answers.
That’s not creepy. Sounds like the Worcestershires are still going strong.
Chapter 4
The Preparation
They roll up to the hotel in Dover all muddy and bedraggled and the “head drawer” meets them. This is an old timey term for a bartender and in this context appears to be some combination of bartender/waiter/assistant manager according to the interwebs.
Since everyone who travels via the Mail arrives all grungy, muddy, and nasty, what with the uphill both ways nonsense, they have a special suite designed to help them get un-gross. Called the Concord Suite, we learn that “though but one type of man was seen to go into it, all kinds and varieties of men came out of it.”
Thus a Dapper man in his 60’s emerges in a fancy flaxen wig and nice clothing that is neat, but worn and out of fashion. He has a painful conversation with the drawer. I say painful because the drawer begins and ends every sentence. “sir” Every. Single. Sentence. “Sir, your breakfast sir. Tis a wonderful morning sir. Sir, have you come from London sir?” So British I half expect him to spend his free time stealing artifacts for the British Museum.
It is at this point dear sir (or madame) that we learn our hero, Jarvis Lorry, works for Tellson’s Bank sir. And you see sir, Tellson’s Bank has extensive business dealings in both London and Paris sir. It has done well sir, for nigh on 150 years sir. If I may be so bold sir, I would venture that these are the titular Two Cities of which this Tale unfolds sir.
See how painful that paragraph was? Just be glad I am reading this and not you. Sir.
Jarvis strolls around the beach until mam’seille arrives that evening. As soon as she arrives he is summoned to her apartment, which is decorated about as cheerily as Dracula’s Romanian castle, we find out mam’seille is a blond 17 year old girl named Miss Manette. She is miraculously not grungy for some reason despite taking the same route as Mr. Lorry. He has a vague recollection of holding a small child matching her description years ago but brushes it off. Foreshadowing much?
Turns out she got a letter from the bank informing her that a document regarding her late father’s will had been discovered and needs attending to in Paris. Being an orphan, she asked for a bank representative to accompany her to France so she doesn’t get murderified on the way. What better protection than a total stranger, right? Now that they are acquainted:
Miss Manette: Are you sure we have never met?
Mr. Lorry: Considering that I definitely did not totally foreshadow that we have met, I can confidently say we are strangers. Now take a seat while I tell you a story. I will first spend an entire page explaining how I am a proper English businessman and as such have no emotions whatsoever. In the course of this narrative I will reiterate how important it is to not have emotion and only attend to business in literally ever single paragraph. If you find yourself having emotions, do some math problems or something so I can continue being an emotionless talking machine.
Now, on to my story. I was working in our French office 20 years ago as a trustee of your father’s estate. He disappeared to probably prison or something, your mom died of a broken heart, and I took you to England to be raised as a ward of the bank. Tut tut, what’s that I see? Surprise!?! Quick, tell me what 9 times 90 is so you calm down. Okay, good, now, back to my story.
Surprise! We found your father, so now we are going to Paris so I can positively ID him and so you can go have emotions or whatever it is you French people do. He’s probably a shell of the man he was and seems quite befuddled from the undoubtable trauma but hey, that’s what you’re here for.
She faints, he is very confused as to why, maids come in the help. I should here again mention that yes, he encourages her to do math to calm down:
Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindly mention now, for instance, what nine times nine-pence are, or how many shillings in twenty guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be so much more at ease about your state of mind.
Chapter 5
The Wine Shop
In the Paris suburb of Saint Antoine, a cask of wine falls off a cart and breaks. Everyone in the street rushes to the puddles of wine to drink it, which is kind of gross, but the author goes on to describe how everyone is starving to death and is generally having the Worcestershires. No best of Shires yet I guess. So yeah, gross, but if you’re starving, free wine is free calories, so hey, they get a pass from me. On the bright side, what they lack in food, they make up for in shiny, sharp weapons and tools. I am sure they won’t wind up being used by the end of the book.
During this whole escapade, Monsuier Jacques Defarge, the wine shop owner watches a “joker” named Gaspard write “blood” on the wall in wine-mud. It is apparently some sort of joke of which Gaspard is very proud. Defarge, who is described as being born without a sense of humor, smears mud over it, then goes back inside. He encounters three customers who all happen to also be named Jacques and they all start greeting each other by their first name. Basically a full two paragraphs of “Hello Jacques.” “Nice to see you Jacques.” This greatly offends Madame Defarge for some reason and she gives a Miss Umbridge style *cough cough* every time. No one gets the hint. Not even me.
The Jacques³ all leave and our friends Mr. Lorry and Miss Manette mosey on over from the corner they were lurking in to talk to Monsieur Defarge. From context this appears to be the the guy who has been taking care of Miss Manette’s dad ever since he was discovered, and he leads them up the absolute nastiest stairwell of all time to his room. This stairwell has heaps of rotting garbage on every landing with smells so thick you can taste them. Mmmmmmm…..
They reach the top of the gross staircase at long last and pause to admire the view of the equally gross city out the grimy window. It is an offal view. Get it? Get it? Offal. lolz. After this refreshing view they start up a second, even grosser staircase that they still need to climb. This one comes with 50% more shoddy workmanship, so it is sketchy AF as well as being disgusting. They arrive at the door to the garret (attic with loading door/window to hoist goods through) which Defarge declares is locked for Manette’s own good. Miss Manette is scared for reasons inconceivable to Mr. Lorry, since a gross stairwell leading to a locked attic is totally normal, so he reminds her that he has no time for emotion.
Defarge makes as much noise as humanly possible, rattling keys, banging on the door, etc. He opens a dimly lit room with so much dramatic slowness I am fairly certain a werewolf or creepy doll is locked inside. After a full page of needless suspense we find the rooms contains….an old man making shoes? Didn’t see that one coming.
Chapter 6
The Shoemaker
Shell of a man confirmed. Old Man Manette hasn’t used his voice in 17 years so it barely works and he seems barely aware of his surroundings. He is busy making shoes and has a hard time following the conversation. When asked his name he replies “105 North Tower.”
He is acting like an Alzheimer’s patient and DeFarge’s and Lorry’s entreaties are all for naught. His daughter stands by him and slowly he starts to realize who she is. He takes out a dirty folded rag that contains two strands of her hair and it begins to dawn on him who it is. Honestly this whole scene is so sad I feel like it would be in poor taste to make fun of it, so I’ll skip to the end. They make arrangements to leave for England that very night. They take a carriage out of town and based on how the book is going so far their itinerary involves the first class tickets aboard the Depress Express with nonstop service to Sad-skatchewan.
BOOK THE SECOND
The Golden Thread
Chapter 1
Five Years Later
Tellson’s Bank was “very small, very dark, very ugly, and very incommodious” and its owners were very proud of this. Looking disreputable is the best way to look reputable by their logic. It “was the triumphant perfection of inconvenience.”
Dickens then spends almost a full page describing how totally gross and dungeon-esque the place is inside, and another half page describing how very fond the state is, with the assistance of the lugubrious Tellson’s firm, of putting people to death for minor financial crimes. Write a bad cheque? Death. Steal sixty pence? Death. Open a letter that doesn’t belong to you? Death. Put pineapple of pizza? Death. Admittedly that last one is warranted. This place has so many nasty surprises they had to bring in Oprah from the evil twin universe to tell each customer to check under their seat. On the bright side, our buddy Jerry with the “Don’t play leapfrog with me” hairdo is one of those flashy sign holders outside doing flashy tricks to encourage victims…er…customers to come inside and enjoy the mustiness. Jerry’s last name, we learn, is Cruncher, so I assume he works part time as a mob enforcer, with headbutting as his weapon of choice. Thus Book the Second begins:
The scene was Mr Cruncher’s private lodging in Hanging-sword-alley, Whitefriars: the time, half-past seven of the clock on a windy March morning, Anno Domini seventeen hundred and eighty. (Mr Cruncher himself always spoke of the year of our lord as Anna Dominoes: apparently under the impression that the Christian era dated from the invention of a popular game, by a lady who had bestowed her name upon it.)
The Cruncher household consists of Jerry, his wife, and his son, also named Jerry. We are introduced to his home by Jerry the elder waking up to his wife praying, and him spending two full pages berating her for praying against him and causing all his bad luck. He is an “honest tradesman” and spends his days sitting on a stool outside the bank waving the aforementioned flashy sign with Jerry Jr. while yelling at children. They are described as grimy monkeys glaring at people walking by. Jerry sounds like a fun guy. A+ husband and father.
Someone from the bank pops out to say they need a porter, so Jerry leaves his son to maintain glare duty while he goes off to port stuff. Porter stuff? Porterize? Use his spikey hair to be Hairy Porter? Without looking up the verb form, porterize sounds the most incorrect, so I will go with that.
Chapter 2
A Sight
Jerry is instructed to porterize a message to Mr. Lorry at the Old Bailey (courthouse) and then stick around to act as messenger if needed. Jerry’s close set eyes have a conference about this (that’s how Dicken’s describes it) and come to the conclusion they will agree.
As Jerry heads there, Dickens tells us about all the fun punishments they had back then, some of which I had to look up, and none of which I will mention here. Suffice it to say they did not involve rainbow farting unicorns or daises that smelled like fresh baked cinnamon rolls.
In fact, in describing the nearby gaol (jail) we learn the whole place smells of unwashed bodies, disease, and spite. It is basically the Mos Eisley cantina.
People are lined up to pay admission to get in and see the trial, which we hear is almost as good as seeing Bedlam (the mental hospital). What makes a person feel better than seeing someone else suffer, right?
Jerry: What’s on tap today?
Doorman: Treason.
J: Oh, the ‘ol quartering then?
D: Oh no no, much more gruesome than that. Let me describe in detail.
J: But only if he’s guilty, right?
D: Oh, he’ll be guilty alright.
The note is successfully porterized to Mr. Lorry, who is hanging out with with all the judges and lawyers and whatnot. Jerry catches his attention to let him know he will be there.
D: So what is Mr. Lorry doing there among all the big wigs anyway?
J: No idea.
D: So what are you doing here then?
J: No idea.
D: Seems legit.
Everyone is super excited to see the accused found guilty, and the whole place has herbs and vinegar sprinkled around to counteract the gaol smells described above. The Prisoner is marched in and they read off the charges of treason against “our serene, illustrious, excellent, and so forth king.” These are very important descriptors it would seem, as they are repeated four times over in the space of as many sentences. The Prisoner glances over at a young woman and an older man who are perhaps wife and father-in-law of the accused and the kangaroo court begins.
Chapter 3
A Disappointment
Prosecution: The accused is not just a traitor, he is a super traitor. You may have heard of Captain America and his super soldier serum? Well, this guy took super traitor serum. But, like every villain, he will eventually be defeated. We will produce the patriot who exposed him. Once Super Traitor’s friend, this patriot stood up and did what was right for his country. Super Patriot is so awesome that if we made statues in this country like they did in ancient Greece and Rome, he would get one. I mean, we don’t, so he probably won’t get one, but still, that’s how awesome he is. (This is a paraphrase of an actual line in the book by the way.)
In the course of this trial, we will prove, without a doubt, that Super Traitor (whose name is Charles Darnay) is super guilty. We will prove it so much that unless you find him guilty, you will never be able to lay your head on your pillow at night. Your wife will never be able to lay her head on her pillow at night. Your children will never be able to. In short, no heads will be able to be lain on any pillows. He is gonna be so guilty, he is going to wish he wasn’t so guilty.
Super Patriot (whose name is John Barsad) sounds kind of sus on the cross examination. He sidesteps questions about his own potentially shady past, but afterwards the flies start buzzing in anticipation of a guilty verdict anyway. Next up is a servant of Darnay who basically repeats Barsad. After that Jarvis Lorry is called and confirms that Darnay rode the packet ship (ferry) from France with him five years earlier when he ferried Mr. and Miss Manette out of the super gross attic.
Miss Manette double confirms that Darnay traveled with them, and states that he was very kind and helpful in tending to her ill father. Due to his kindness she is unwilling to speak ill of him but is forced to nonetheless. She states that Darnay conferred with two Frenchman over some papers before the packet shoved off. Then, after tending to her father, she chit-chatted with him. He said he was traveling under an assumed name, might be doing some delicate work for some time to come, and thought that Britain’s war with America was foolish. Big nail in the coffin was when he said George Washington might wind up having as big a name in history as King George III. I guess the British are not fond of Washington for some reason. Here is a pic of the audience:
Mr. Manette testifies, but can’t really confirm anything, since he was in a fugue state at the time what with the whole ‘I am busy making shoes’ thing he had going on at the time. He is rattled recalling his imprisonment but for the most part seems to have recovered and is a functioning member of society.
The defense produces a doppelganger of Mr. Darnay, and contends that if there were two such similar people in the same room, could anyone be really sure that it was actually Darnay in that boat on a dark stormy night? They assert that Super Patriot and his assistant were the real spies, and that the Darnay was on secret family business, kept in confidence due to its delicacy, and had nothing to do with state secrets.
The jury deliberated for a hot minute, then came back with a not guilty verdict and Jerry is sent to carry the message quick as could be to the bank. The angry crowd disperses to go find someone else to rabble at.
Chapter 4
Congratulatory
Mr. And Miss Manette, Jarvis, Darnay, and Stryver (defense counsel for Darnay) all stand around giving each other high fives. My guess is that Darnay is in fact super guilty and conspiring with the rest of our high five groupies but I guess we shall see.
Mr. Manette is still a bit melancholy from the testimony, but his daughter is there to help. “She was the golden thread that united him to a Past beyond his misery, and to a Present beyond his misery: and the sound of her voice, the light of her face, the touch of her hand, had a strong beneficial influence with him almost always.“
They go their separate ways until only Mr. Lorry and Darnay are left, then Mr. Carton (Darney’s doppleganger) emerges from the shadows to taunt Lorry for being all business all the time, and Lorry trundles off to pout. Carton is instantly very sketchy, but as Darnay is kind of just left to his own devices he goes with him to find a pub for Darnay to get dinner, and Carton to get more wine, of which he has already had a fair amount.
At the pub Darnay eats while Carton asked him a series of cryptic, antagonistic questions:
Carton: I’m unlikable.
Darnay: No argument here.
Carton: Good cuz I am. I am a totally grumpy curmudgeon.
Darnay: Well you did assist Mr. Stryver in acquitting me, plus you brought me here, so there’s that. Thanks by the way.
Carton: Bah humbug. Don’t thank me. I have no idea why I did it and I am a miserable old coot. Do you think I even like you?
Darnay: Your actions with the acquittal and dinner say yes but literally everything else screams no.
Carton: Winner, Winner, chicken dinner. I dislike everyone, especially me. Do you like me?
Darnay: Gonna have to go with not really.
Carton: Cool, glad we’re on the same page, I’m gonna pass out drunk now.
Darnay: Okay, considering that no part of this evening with you has been pleasant I will leave you to it.
Chapter 5
The Jackal
I should precede this chapter summary with a short geographic history. The following I learned partly through research while reading and partly from playing Assassin’s Creed:
Temple Bar is an area of London associated with the legal profession. Originally one of two gates to the city, it is so named for the literal bar (later an archway) that “barred the road” into town at the headquarters of the Knights Templar. The Templars were essentially a group of warrior-monks whose initial purpose was to protect pilgrims on the road to Jerusalem. They were also the original bankers: They would collect a pilgrim’s money at their “temple” (hence templar) and issue a bank note that could be redeemed at a temple at their destination. This discouraged thieves.
Having been disbanded in the 14th century, the Temple now refers to a complex of buildings devoted to the legal profession. A number of students and professionals live there as well. Now that the stage is set, on we go with the tour:
Back then people drank. A lot. Dickens tells us that what was considered a moderate amount then would be alcohol poisoning for most people now, with now being 1859, when he wrote it. Stryver and Carton are no exceptions, especially Carton, who had gained a reputation as a bit of a lush. Stryver is a court favorite, everyone at the Old Bailey loves him and his reputation grows daily. Carton, on the other hand, is basically “a jackal to lion”: he prepares the way and mostly cries in the night.
The waiter wakes Carton up at 10 PM, as he requested, and he stumbles his way to the Temple to Stryver’s apartment. They discuss the day’s trial:
Stryver: That was quite clever, coming up with the comparison between you and Darnay. How did you think of it?
Carton: Well, I figured he was a rather handsome fellow, and as I am also quite a handsome fellow, it seemed obvious.
Stryver: Right, right, well let’s get to work then, shall we?
They proceed to do some paperwork on two cases while drinking more. I guess this was normal? Doing legal work late at night while tipsy? Carton also works with a wet towel wrapped around his head. This seems like the best way to go about things. They being to reminisce about school days and use such fancy words as “botheration” (to annoy), and “apostraphise” (to use air quotes) and I think those are my new two favorite words.
Aside
In the course of reading this book, I find myself stopping every few pages to look up a word, phrase, or just to place the meaning in a historical context. I discovered a site called Discovering Dickens: A Community Reading Project that does just that, and have found it immensely helpful. If you are reading the book for realsies (not just these reviews) I highly recommend it, but I will be inserting key things I have learned from it as I go. The biggest takeaway that I have gathered so far is that almost all of the events, characters, and settings are historically accurate and based on real people and events. What you might think are exaggerations are not. Probably. In fact it has been a bit hard to satirize this as the whole time period is already pretty extra. That being said, follow along as we explore the deepest depths of sorrows this time period has to offer and then discover an even deeper layer.
Chapter 6
Hundreds of People
Dr. Manette’s house is a very, very, very fine house, with two cats in the yard. Life used to be so hard. Now everything is easy ’cause of Lucie (his daughter).
Mr. Lorry likes to come round and enjoy the house, which is on a quiet street, It has shade, fruit trees, fresh breeze, and probably Mr. Rogers as a neighbor. A peculiar acoustic property of the street means some footsteps seem near but are actually quite far. Inside the house is just as pleasing in a simple yet pretty French kind of way, thanks to Miss Manette.
Remember when Mr. Lorry first met Miss Manette and was very confused when she fainted after being told her father was alive and probably crazy? Well the maid who came in to tend to her lives here now. She is named Miss Pross, has been Miss Manette’s caregiver since age ten, and is fiercely protective.
Pross: How do you do?
Lorry: Capital! And you?
Pross: Well enough I suppose.
L: Indeed?
P: Indeed. Rather put out about Miss. Manette though.
L: Indeed?
P: Yes, and stop saying indeed.
L: Really?
P: Really, she is like Odysseus’ wife when it comes to attracting suitors. Dozens come round.
L: Really?
P: Hundreds is more like it.
L: Really?
P: Yeah, and it’s all your fault.
L: Really?
P: Really, and stop saying really.
L: Quite so?
P: Quite so, ever since you returned her father to life.
L: Quite so?
P: Quite, and none of them are worthy of her. None have ever been worthy of her save my brother Solomon.
Solomon, we learn, is considered by Mr. Lorry to be a scoundrel who stole everything Miss Pross owned, lost it in speculation, then abandoned her. Miss Pross, however, seems to hold a different opinion. Will this become important later in the book? The answer to that question, like a glass coffin, remains to be seen. At this point Mr. Lorry’s attention is drawn to Mr. Manette’s shoemaking setup in the corner.
L: Does he ever speak of his shoemaking time?
P: Never.
L: Do you believe he thinks of it much?
P: I do.
L: Do you imagine –
P: Don’t ever imagine anything!
L: Sorry. Do you…suppose he has a theory why he was locked up?
P: As a household servant I hold no opinions that are not given me by Miss Manette. That is except, of course, when it comes to minor semantic points such as whether to say imagine or believe, which I am weirdly emphatic about, as you have no doubt gathered.
L: Quite so. Considering that he is undoubtedly 100% innocent, and that that innocence will in no way be brought into question later in this book, does Miss Manette think he has a theory about why he was imprisoned?
P: She does, but she thinks he is afraid to talk about it. Any mention of the subject throws him into a fit.
L: Quite so.
At this point we hear the father and daughter approach, and Miss Pross proclaims that the hundreds of suitors will be following soon. I am sure this is not at all an exaggeration. Dickens then spends a full page describing the culinary prowess of our governess, and they sit down to eat. Afterwards they sit in the courtyard drinking wine and are joined by Mr. Darnay. You know who doesn’t show up? Hundreds of suitors. Shocking, right?
Darnay: Ever been to the Tower of London?
Lucie (Miss Mannete): Near enough.
D: Well I took the tour and in one old cell they found the initials DIG, only, no one on record had those initials, so I thought maybe it was a word. Dug underneath it and sure enough there were some burnt papers in a leather satchel. No idea what they said but sure is creepy eh?
Mr. Manette: Oh look, I am out of sorts because it is now raining and not at all because you are recounting a story about a prison.
They all go in because it is raining. I should also note that at this point in history, according to Discovering Dickens, the tower is not a prison but more a combination museum, menagerie (zoo), and neighborhood.
Mr. Carton shows up and they sit around talking about the storm: waiting for the thunder, hearing footsteps coming and going, seeming to be all over, but unseen in the shadows. They brood about how the footsteps, like the rain, will all come at once in a flood. The whole conversation is clearly about the storm and not at all obvious foreshadowing of events to come.
Chapter 7
Monseigneur in Town
We now find ourselves in Paris, where we are introduced to Monseigneur, which is the French equivalent of the English honorific “My Lord.” He is a rather extravagant fellow, whose chambers are referred to as the holiest of holiest, and who had his morning hot chocolate served to him by no fewer than four servants: one for every step of the process, including one to provide him his napkin. Any fewer than this would be a blight and an abomination. Monseigneur lives by two rules: Don’t interfere in anything when it comes to governing (people should fend for themselves) and do everything possible to increase his own wealth. Upright dude, right?
Only problem is that his extravagant lifestyle is gradually making him less rich. What to do, what to do? Oh, I know! Take his sister out of the convent before she puts on the veil (takes an oath of celibacy and all that) and marry her off to a rich tax man. Not just any tax man, but one so rich the it necessitates an itemized list of his horses, servants, household property, et cetera. Ever read the book of Numbers in the Old Testament/Torah? Basically that snooze fest of a list. TL;DR: Tax man is rich.
This is symptomatic of nearly every profession: people are put in positions of power for political reasons or because they bought those positions, but they have zero training. Naval officers who are only vaguely aware of the concept of a boat, Military generals who may or may not know which end of the musket the shot comes out of, doctors who charmingly sell snake oil. You get the idea. While lacking any skill pertaining to their profession, they ARE quite skilled at amassing more wealth for themselves.
A whole group of such self important people are at Monseigneur’s hotel, awaiting his presence. We are treated to a description of their fancy hair and their Mr. T level gold jewelry. Fashion is of such supreme importance even the executioner is required to be “powdered, gold-laced, pumped, and white-silk stockinged.” In our modern parlance, they are all crazy ’bout the pumped-up kicks. I actually winded up diving into a rabbit hole on hair fashion at this point, so to learn more, see the end of this post.
After finishing his hot chocolate, Monseigneur pops out of the Holiest of Holies long enough to soak up the fawning admiration of the fashionable sycophants before retiring to his chambers, which is described thusly:
Sport of Tycoons by Carl Barks, courtesy of Tom Simpson
https://www.flickr.com/photos/randar/12772571353/in/album-72157637696315804/
I guess this is the best of times? Kind of macabre best of times if so. Anyway, one sycophant remains long enough to curse him, only after the room is safely empty, of course, then leaves. He is a marquis but is yet to be identified by name, and his face as described by Dickens, is basically the Guy Fawkes mask from V for Vendetta:
The Marquis goes down to his carriage, and proceeds to drive through the Paris streets Mad Max style, and watches with great pleasure as the peasants dive out of his way and occasionally get maimed. (From what I read this was actually kind of a common occurrence back then.) The carriage runs over a child, and the driver stops, to the great annoyance of Guy Fawkes, who would just have soon kept driving. He climbs out, can’t fathom why the parent is upset, tosses them a gold coin, and starts to drive away when the coin is flung back at him. He gives a rant about how meaningless they are in proper aristocratic gravitas, then drives on.
Chapter 8
Monseigneur In the Country
The Marquis drives through the country side, which is full of scraggly crops struggling to get by tended by scraggly peasants struggling to get by. They are poor mostly due to taxes, of which they pay general, state, local, church, and lordship taxes. Historically, the farmer-general (name for the tax man) had a set amount to be paid per capita for each of these taxes, but no limit as to what they could actually charge. In other words they extorted whatever they wanted and pocketed the difference. I guess Monseigneur Hot Chocolate had the right idea with marrying his sister off to one. Well, right idea when you have the no morals.
Marquis comes across a poor village full of poor people doing poor people things. He singles out a road mender who was staring at the carriage, and demands to know the cut of his jib, or some equally old timey phrase. Road mender tells Marquis that someone was clinging to the underside of his carriage but dove off a cliff at the top of the hill on the way. They go investigate the top of the hill and find a mourning woman:
Woman: Monseigneur! A petition!
M: Ugh, always with the petition
W: Under this little mound of grass lies my husband. He starved to death.
M: And?
W: Well, a lot of us starve to death to death you see.
M: Oh, and you think I could feed them?
W: Quite easily, but that’s not my point. I was just wondering if you could maybe spare a little headstone for him. Once I starve to death too no one will remember his grave, what with all the other starved people.
M: Yeah, that’s the point.
He drives up to his château outside the village, where he is expecting Lord Charles from England. They are probably gonna have a play date persecuting the less fortunate if the theme of the book holds its course.
Chapter 9
The Gorgon’s Head
Yo, listen up here’s a story
About a little guy
That lives in a stone château
And all day and all night
And everything he sees is just stone
Like him inside and outside
Stone his house
With a stone little window
And a stone flambeu
And everything is stone for him
And himself and everybody around
Cause he ain’t got nobody to listen
He’s stone da ba ba dee da ba di
Anyway, yeah, lots of stone. And his hall is full of spears and swords and bludgeons and various stabby things. He sits down to a fancy supper and is soon joined by Lord Charles, who turns out to be Darnay! Darnay is actually his nephew and is not a fan of the whole peasant persecution thing.
D: Thanks for getting me out of that spot of bother uncle. I could have died!
M: Don’t be so dramatic.
D: Oh, like you would have prevented it?
M: Well, that’s what happens when you have empathy, you die. Plus I gotta preserve the family name, couldn’t let them know you were connected to us.
D: If you hadn’t lost favor in the French Court, I am sure by now you would have happily had me locked away to prevent me from being a nuisance.
M: Well I wouldn’t say happily, but look, I got my own problems. Back in the day we used to hang these gross peasants anytime we wanted to. Right in the other room in fact, but NoOoOoOoO, now they’re all like “But I want to have rights too!” It’s so woke, you have no idea.
D: Yeah, that philosophy is probably why everyone hates us.
M: Let’s hope so, hating the rich is the highest form of flattery from peasants.
D: I just think that maybe persecuting people to serve our own self interest all the time is bad.
M: That makes one of us.
D: You are terrible, and this whole country is full of crap. I renounce it all.
M: Oh? Tell me, how do you plan to live once you renounce it and have this whole new “I don’t like cruelty” woke philosophy of yours?
D: Do what most people do. Work for a living.
M: [gasps in abject horror] And ruin our family name here in France?
D: Nope, go to England where I can ruin it there.
M: Oh, where a certain doctor and his daughter live?
D: ….Yes?
M: Ah, I thought so.
D: What’s that supposed to mean?
M: Mwahahahahaha!!!
On that creepy ambiguous note, they go to bed. Sunrise and the peculiarity of the scarlet light brings lots of homages to blood: the fountain turned the color of blood, the hall of stabby things glinting as they did on the hunt, the stone lions looking at all this with malice, and so on. The impoverished peasants gather round the fountain to discover that the marquis had been stabbed in his bed during the night and was found with a note that read “Drive him fast to his tomb. This from JACQUES.”
Chapter 10
Two Promises
it is now twelve months later and Charles Darnay is living in England as a French tutor, which at that time is basically a professor. Good tutors are hard to find because the only people fluent in both English and French, and knowledgeable about their literature, were the nobility. They are too busy drinking tea with their pinkies raised to attend to the nasty business of actually doing anything requiring effort. Thus Darnay is well known and valued. He fits right in because he loves Lucie Manette but has yet to tell her in any way, thus demonstrating the English inability to express emotion. He has a plan to change this though, so he rolls up to the Manette household.
Darnay: Hey Mr. Manette!
M: So good to see you! Lucie is out, but will be back soon.
D: Yeah, about that, so…turns put I have the hots for her.
M: Uh oh…
D: Don’t worry, I will ease your conscience by spending the next two pages describing how legit my love is and how I will in no way drive a wedge between you, cuz I know how much you love each other.
M: Okay, cool. You seem like a solid dude, so sure, go for it. What’s your plan?
D: It would be a stretch to say I have a plan, but I was hoping you would promise me that if she confides in you feelings she may have towards me, you won’t discourage her.
M: You got it. Anything else?
D: Yeah, you’ll remember that I mentioned Darnay isn’t my real name. I should probably tell you my real name and why I am in England.
M: Yes, but actually no. Keep it to yourself till when you’re betrothed then tell me on the morning of your wedding.
D: Weird stipulation but okay.
M: Now that that is settled you should probably go before Lucie gets home or she will spend the next two chapters ruminating about why you came round all Elizabeth Bennet style.
BONUS SECTION ON HAIR
In reading up on hair fashions of the time, I learned that it was believed hair was “a vapour or excrement of the brain, arising from the digestion performed by it at the instant of its nourishment.” That article also had these pretty great illustrations from the time:
hair Styles of the late 1700’s
extra hair being super extra
From Fairholt’s Costume in England (published in 1860, and thus roughly contemporary with A Tale of Two Cities), we learn:
The head-dress of the ladies still continued as monstrous as ever, until in 1782 it reached the extraordinary size depicted in our engraving [see below]. It consisted of a heap of tow and pads, over which false hair was arranged, and hung with ropes of pearls, gauze-trimming, ribbons, feathers, and artificial flowers; until it added two or three feet to the stature of the fair wearers.
Heads thus carefully and expensively dressed were, of course, not dressed frequently. The whole process is given in the London Magazine of 1768: “False locks to supply deficiency of native hair, pomatum in profusion, greasy wool to bolster up the adopted locks, and grey powder to conceal dust.” A hairdresser is described as asking a lady “how long it was since her head had been opened and repaired; she answered, not above nine weeks; to which he replied, that that was as long as a head could well go in summer; and that therefore it was proper to deliver it now, as it began to be a little hasardé.” The description of the opening of the hair, and the disturbance thereby occasioned to its numerous inhabitants, is too revolting for modern readers; but the various advertisements of poisonous compounds for their destruction, and the constant notice of these facts, prove that it is no exaggeration. (313)
Of course after reading this, I had to know the revolting details, so I should warn you at this point it gets kinda gross, in case you want to stop reading now. This is actually where we get the term “hairdressers” as they “dressed the hair” with such ornamentation as described above. In order to bolster up the natural hair and increase volume, they added wool and false hair. To add stiffness and hold, they used a combination of flour and grease to make a stiff, starchy frame. This was extra tasty to bugs, so the hair got to be “lousy”, or, full of lice. Hence, opening the hair involved decanting this steamy, greasy bundle and discovering all kinds of lice and other bugs crawling around. The hairdresser would “nitpick”, nits being the eggs of lice. So that is where we get both the terms lousy and nit-picking.
The pest problem was so bad that the hair was embedded with poisons and honey-covered spikey bug traps. Apparently they were even known to harbor rodents. I guess the upper class had to put up with this, because not having ostentatious headdressings made one a pariah in polite society. Wigs were preferable to natural hair since they could be taken off, but even these got gross. They even had handbooks on the etiquette of dealing with bugs. If you were in public and saw a bug crawling on you, it was not polite to flick it off yourself, so you had to try to shift to hide it. It was acceptable to flick it off someone else though, and a thanks was expected. Scratching ones scalp should only be done in private, and they made special scratching wands to get down in there without disturbing the starchy grease frame.
Carton and Stryver have been working and drinking through the night, as is their custom. They maintain this untenable habit by covering their heads in wet towels to keep their hangover heads from throbbing too much while they work.
Stryver: I need to tell you something: I’m getting married, and you’ll never guess to whom.
Carton: Okay, then tell me.
S: No, guess.
C: You literally just told me I never would.
S: Oh, right. Well in that case let me preface by going on a page long diatribe about how you are an incorrigible slob.
C: Yeah, that is a given. I tell anyone who listens how miserable I am.
S: Oh, right. Well in that case let me further preface this by saying your opinion doesn’t matter to me at all since I know you are cynical about literally everything. I am marrying Miss Manette.
C: Okay.
S: Wait, but you’re not shocked. So…you approve?
C: Should I not?
S: Look, I expected you to be shocked and to object so I prepared a whole speech about why this is a good match.
C: Good to be prepared, but I don’t object.
S: Well, you’re gonna get a speech anyway. [Insert speech]. Also you should get married too. Your lifestyle is terrible and you need a nurse for when you inevitably wreck yourself.
C: Okay.
S: Okay then.
C: Okay.
Chapter 12
The Fellow of Delicacy
Stryver is off to deliver the good news to Miss Manaette that he has chosen to marry her. It does not even occur to him that she might say no, because he can provide for her, and that is the whole point of marriage, right? He decides to stop by Tellson’s Bank on the way to tell Mr. Lorry the good news.
Lorry: Oh, dear me.
Stryver: What? Am I not eligible.
L: If you say so, then yeah, you’re eligible.
S: Am I not prosperous?
L: Again, If you say so.
S: Am I not up and coming?
L: …Yes?
S: So what’s the problem?
L: Well, you gotta think about what she wants in a man.
S: I did. She wants a man who can provide, as that is the sole concern of a spouse. Well, that and making me happy.
L: Look, I’m just saying she might say no, or Doctor Manette might say no, and then it would be all around painful for everyone involved. What if I go up there this evening and scout it out and let you know before you go barging in there to what might definitely possibly be a big platter of rejection with a side of definitely not?
S: Okay, that’s fair. Well, go do that then check with me afterwards.
Stryver leaves and mutters under his breath “Turn me down will you. Well, I’ll fix your wagon. You’ll see. You’ll all see.”
As promised, Lorry pops by his apartment in the Temple:
L: Yeah. I was right, you would have been disappointed.
S: Oh no matter. My mistake. Silly empty headed girls are silly. No harm done.
L: Oh, well, uh, glad you took that well.
Lorry leaves and the camera pans to show Stryver pursing his fingers ominously.
Chapter 13
The Fellow of No Delicacy
Carton wanders over to see Miss Lucie Manette.
Lucie: You don’t look well.
Carton: “[T]he life I lead, Miss Manette, is not conducive to health.”
L: Have you considered not leading such a life?
C: It’s too late for that. [Breaks down crying] Sorry, I am just overwhelmed by what I came here to say to you.
L: Okay, well, out with it then.
C: You see, before I met you, I was a miserable wretch, but now, I am still a miserable wretch, but one that wishes he was better.
L: Okay, so, be better then?
C: Oh no, I have no intention of doing that because I have convinced myself it is impossible, but I just want you to know that you make me wish I lived a better life, and that makes me hate myself even more.
L: Well, you could try improving.
C: Oh no, not gonna happen. I am a degenerate pile of garbage and gonna stay that way till I die, which is soon. Just please keep it a secret?
L: Okay, will do. Wish you weren’t so determined to stay miserable though.
C: Me too. Bye.
That was a weird and depressing chapter.
Chapter 14
The Honest Tradesman
Jerry Cruncher and his son, also Jerry Cruncher, are once again waving flashy signs in front of the bank. We need a better way to differentiate them. Maybe Cruncher Jr? Chrunchette? Chrunchito? I like Crunchito. Anyway Jerry and Crunchito are doing their Jay and Silent Bob style loitering when a funeral procession drives by.
The procession consists of a hearse and a single carriage in the funeral procession. The carriage has a single shabby mourner in it. Following this sad, small procession is an angry mob all decrying the deceased as a spy. Jerry asks a member of the mob as they pass if the deceased is actually a spy, and no one has any idea, but are all joining in on the fun regardless. Gotta have a hobby I guess. The mob stops the procession and yanks the mourner from the carriage. He scurries off to safety before they can lynch him, and the procession is commandeered by the mob. They decide to continue to drive to the cemetery and bury the spy themselves, which seems like an odd decision for people who were just protesting his burial, but whatever. Jerry has no real idea if dude was a spy or not, or really what is going on, but mobs are great fun for the dimwitted, and aside from being a leapfrog champion, Jerry is nothing if not a spikey headed dimwit. We learn that the deceased is none other than Roger Cly. As you may recall from Darnay’s trial, Mr. Cly was the servant who accused Darnay of being a spy. Just desserts I guess.
The crowd grows in size as it makes its way and is joined by a pie vendor and a circus bear (not making this up). After interring the body, the crowd decides it needs new sport so one of the mob groupies accuses random pedestrians of espionage and the mob assaults them. After that they throw in some looting and vandalism for funsies, and call it a night. This happens a lot around this time period actually.
Jerry ruminates on the mob, returns to the bank to collect Crunchito, and goes home. He hatches a yet unknown “business venture,” which is totally legit since he is an honest tradesman and all, and warns his wife that if the nights ventures go awry, he will be convinced that his wife has been praying against him again and will deal with her accordingly. Nothing that goes wrong in Jerry’s life is his fault, you see, it is due to his wife praying that things go wrong. Oh what marital bliss those two have. Poor Mrs. Cruncher.
He proceeds to spend the evening engaging his wife in non stop conversation so she doesn’t have a chance to pray against him, and by conversation I mean criticizing her on every point he can think of. Around 1 AM he leaves with the pretense of “going fishing” and gathers up his “fishing supplies”: a crowbar, rope, chain, sack, and other implements that are clearly designed for catching fish. Crunchito pretends to be asleep but as soon as his dad leaves he sneaks out to follow.
Jerry walks out of town and is joined by two other “fisherman.” Eventually they arrive at a gated church yard where Roger Cly was buried earlier that day. The three hop the fence and begin digging in the graveyard while we hang back with Crunchito and watch from a distance. At this point Crunchito and I are both starting to suspect that the three are not actually trying to catch fish, and the reference is actually some sort of euphemism for graverobbing. This is confirmed a moment later when they pull up a coffin. Both of us are so scared we run away without seeing what is inside, though I suspect it might be Roger Cly. Whoever it was, a totally real and spooky coffin person chases us all the way home.
From the first American edition of A Tale of Two Cities
The next morning we are awakened by the sounds of Jerry beating his wife and complaining that she is the cause for the night’s endeavors failing. What those endeavors were and how they failed are not entirely clear. After a short nap we get ready for the daily loitering routine. As we walk to the bank, Crunchito asks his dad what a resurrection man is and Jerry sort of just mumbles and deflects.
Historical bonus!
For context, from the 14th to the early 19th century, the use of cadavers for research was limited to executed prisoners, and then only in limited quantities. Demand was high for barbers, who were originally also surgeons and dentists, in order to teach students. Resurrectionists, or resurrection men were, as Jerry puts it, “respectable tradesman” who stole freshly dead corpses and sold them to barbers. Coincidentally the spinning blue, white, and red pole of barbers originally signaled their proficiency in the three crafts, and a small version was used for patients to grip during surgery before anesthetic.
Chapter 15
Knitting
We leave Crunchito and his coffin friend and venture to the other of our two cities. A bunch of people are sitting around inside Defarge’s wine shop. Too broke to actually buy wine, they whisper among themselves until Monsieur Defarge steps in with the dusty road mender from earlier – the one who told the now deceased Marquis about the dude clinging to the underside of his carriage. Defarge leads the road mender up to the garret where Mr. Manette once resided, and there they meet the three men named Jacques from earlier. The road mender is also named Jacques by an amazing coincidence and now the five Jacques plot.
Jacques the Road Mender tells the tale of how the man clinging to the underside of the carriage was suspected to be the murderer. After the murder there was a manhunt but no one in the village ever saw him until a year later when he was delivered to the nearby prison by six guards. Remember the child the Marquis ran over and killed while driving out of town? Well, the guy who clung under the carriage was Gaspard, his father, who rode all the way for revenge. A forty-foot high gallows is built over the fountain and Gaspard is hanged.
Defarge: Thank you for telling us your story. Would you wait outside a moment.
Jacques One through Three (AKA the Jacquerie): Well, for our petition to spare Gaspard’s life didn’t work. What should we do with this country yokel you brought here to tell us this story? He might tell all our secrets.
Defarge: Pfft, he doesn’t know anything. All our secrets are kept in a crochet knot code that Mrs. Defarge records and cannot be read by anyone but us. She keeps a list of all the people we plan to murder to death when the time comes. That’s right, not just murder, but murder to death, which is the worst kind of murder. As to the yokel, he wants to see the royalty, so I will show him.
J: That sounds like a terrible idea. They have apple bottom jeans and the boots with the fur. He will fall in love with them.
D: It’s a perfect idea, when he sees the baggy sweatpants and the Reeboks with the strap he will cheer them on. This will help them to continue to think the common folk adore them. They won’t suspect their death murders until it is too late.
Mrs. Defarge takes Road Mender Jacques to see the royal motorcade and he is so overwhelmed by how fancy they are he cheers them on as expected.
Yokel: Sorry, it was just mesmerizing the way they shone bright like a diamond.
Mrs. Defarge: No, no, all good. You made them think they are amazingtastical and that their glory will never fade.
Y: Yeah I guess that’s true.
D: You would get excitable by literally anything shiny, wouldn’t you?
Y: Yeah I guess that’s true.
D: And if you saw a pile of fancy dolls and were told to rip them to pieces for something shiny, you would, wouldn’t you?
Y: Oh definitely.
D: And the same if you saw some flightless birds, right?
A: Right-o!
D: Well, remember that, cuz you saw dolls and flightless birds today. Now run along.
Birds seem like an odd choice of analogy, but oh well. Point is, the yokel is basically the personification of mob mentality: mindlessly destructive and easily manipulated.
Chapter 16
Still Knitting
Jacques the Road Mender begins the long walk home. All the stone gargoyles at the château where the Marquis lives now have angry looks of vengeance, or so the village folk believe, and the one over the bedroom where he was killed now has a Guy Fawkes mask on it.
The Defarges also head home and learn from another Jacques, who is a city guardsmen, that John Barsad (accomplice to Roger Cly in framing Charles Darnay) is now a spy in their part of town. Madame Defarge requires a physical description to record in her knitting ledger, and Barsad is described as having a “nose aquiline, but not straight, having a peculiar inclination towards the left cheek; expression, therefore, sinister.”
Apparently “sinister” is a bit of a pun as it means slanted to the left as well as malevolent. I wasn’t aware that a crooked nose equated to being sinister, but I will be sure to file that away in my “potentially useful in a very unlikely set of circumstances” folder.
They get back to the wineshop and Monsieur Defarge mopes about how long vengeance takes to plan and how he wishes it was instant like an earthquake or bolt of lightning. Madame Defarge points out that an earthquake takes a lot of prep time even if no one sees, but the preparation is inexorable and when it finally comes it crushes all in its path. Whether they live to see it or not, its coming is inevitable.
The next morning Madame Defarge is tending the shop while recording Barsad’s name in her secret crochet code when in walks Mr. Sinister himself. She pins a rose in her hair and the customers discreetly leave.
Sinister: Good day! Could I get some cognac?
Madame Defarge: Of course harmless gentleperson.
Sinister: This cognac is marvelous!
Madame Defarge: Well we both know it is terrible but this will be a conversation of cleverly disguised word sparring, so I will play along.
Sinister: Wonderful pattern in your knitting there. What is it for?
Madame Defarge: Oh just a hobby. Might have a use for it later, we’ll see.
I see what you did there Defarge. Giggle.
Sinister: I am totally oblivious to the fact that the shop was full of patrons before I came in but is now empty. Everyone who has come in has promptly left so I assume this has nothing to do with me and business is just bad?
Madame Defarge: People are poor, so yeah, business is bad.
Sinister: Poor and oppressed, wouldn’t you say?
Madame Defarge: I never said anything about oppressed.
Sinister: But you think they are, right?
Madame Defarge: Too busy being bad at business to think much.
Sinister: Hmm…well played. I will try a new and not at all subtle tactic to get you to confess to being a traitor. So….poor Gaspard. Such a shame.
Madame Defarge: Well, that’s what happens when you stab someone.
Sinister: But people around here sure seem to have sympathy for him.
Madame Defarge: Do they? Hadn’t noticed. Oh look! My husband is here!
Monsieur Defarge: Good day Jacques!
Sinister: Um…good day?
Monsieur Defarge: Ah, so I see you are not one of the Jacquerie. Good to know.
Sinister: Right, well then, I was just saying yo your wife how everyone is sad about Gaspard.
Monsieur Defarge: I’ve heard no such thing. Guess you know a lot about these parts.
Sinister: Not much but I hope to know more. I do know that you have some interesting acquaintances though. For instance I know you took care of Dr. Manette when he was released, and helped his daughter bring him to England.
Monsieur Defarge: Congrats for knowing a thing.
Sinister: Heard from his daughter lately?
Madame Defarge: Nope
Sinister: Did you hear she is getting married?
Madame Defarge: Surprised she isn’t already, but you English are all pretty terrible at romance.
Sinister: True dat, but she is going to marry another Frenchman, the nephew of the late Marquis. No one in England knows he is now a marquis, as he goes by the name Charles Darnay, but his mother’s family go by the name D’Aulnais.
Monsieur Defarge: Oh Mylanta! I have visible shock but will attempt to hide it.
Sinister: I might be inept, but not so inept I do not notice your shock. Good to know, and I take my leave of you. I will be back to spy later though.
Monsieur Defarge: Sounds good! Tootles!
Dickens closes the chapter with brooding ruminations of troubled times to come.
Chapter 17
One Night
The Manettes sit alone on the eve of Lucie’s wedding:
Lucie: Are you happy with this arrangement?
Dr. Manette: Quite happy.
L: Because I couldn’t be happy if you weren’t happy.
D: Well I couldn’t be happy if YOU weren’t happy.
L: But I would be fine with being unhappy if that’s what it took to make you happy.
D: But then you being unhappy would put a damper on me being happy.
L: Well I would be unhappy if being unhappy made you unhappy.
D: What if we both tried being happy?
L: I guess I could go with that.
D: Okay, So it’s settled then. Unfortunately all this unhappy talk brings up unhappy memories of my imprisonment. Long term solitary confinement makes one’s mind wander in odd ways, so I will now spend the next two pages rambling about my unhappy memories in a semi-coherent manner that might not make any sense.
L: You are correct that I did not really understand all of that, but the parts I did understand were quite depressing. TL;DR you imagined me as a loving mother and wife while you wilted away in obscurity. This was a fun chat. I feel much more positive about things now.
Chapter 18
Nine Days
Wedding morning and Mr. Lorry, “who could not sufficiently admire the bride, and who had been moving round her to take in every point of her quiet, pretty dress” is sounding decidedly creepy, but maybe old men eyeing every inch of a teenage girl was not as off putting back then. I dunno, he is man of business and all.
The wedding is a small affair with only the Manettes, Darnay, Mr. Lorry, and Miss Prost in attendance. Miss Pross starts crying.
Lorry: Now see here, I can’t have any crying around me.
Pross: I’m not crying, you are. (Actual quote)
L: Okay, while you are busy not crying, I will wonder if there might not have been a Mrs. Lorry at some point in the last fifty years.
P: Poo, you were a bachelor in your cradle. (Actual quote)
L: That seems probable. (Actual quote). Now, back to business, Lucie, let me assure you that your father will be taken care of during your two-week honeymoon to Warwickshire, and when you return to collect him for a second two-week honeymoon to Wales as an awkward threesome, he will be in tip top shape.
Darnay and Doctor Manette join them, the latter looking pale and worried. My guess is that Darnay told him his actual name, and that his evil Marquis uncle had something to do with Manette being locked up in the first place. The Doctor hides it during the wedding till after Darnay and Lucie ride off to the honeymoon. After that he drops all pretenses and goes to his room. Lorry goes to check in at Tellson’s, and when he gets back, Manette is shut in his room making shoes in pretty much the same state he was in when we first found him in the wine-shop garret. In other words, totally unresponsive.
Mr. Lorry is so worried that he arranges his first ever vacation from Tillson’s (as in he has literally never taken a break in sixty years) so he can watch over Dr. Manette with Miss Pross. They spend the next nine days trying to get him to snap out of it with no luck.
As Lucie and Darnay are blissfully unaware of all this in Warwickshire, they are presumably having the best of Shires. In keeping with the theme of the book though, we are only privy to the Worcestershire of times going on back in London.
Chapter 19
An Opinion
The morning of the tenth day sees Dr. Manette inexplicably back to normal. Lorry and Pross decide to play it cool and act like nothing happened for fear of him slipping back into it. They all come down for breakfast and Manette thinks it is the day after the wedding. He starts to doubt his time frame when he looks at his hands and sees them covered in shoe making grime.
Lorry: Say Doctor, I need a learned opinion about a friend of mine, who is definitely not you, about a shock he received. I really want to help him, so I need you to pay attention for his daughter’s sake.
Manette: As I suspect that this friend may in fact be referring to me, you had best be as detailed as possible.
L: Well you see, some years ago he suffered a severe and prolonged trauma of an unknown duration, but one that he has since fully recovered from. He is totally recovered from this bad time and back to being the intelligent doctor he was. Unfortunately he had a slight relapse recently for nine days.
M: Oh my, and during this relapse did he pick up any old habits he had during his bad time, like, oh, I don’t know, shoemaking?
L: He did actually. It was like he reverted to exactly how he was right after his bad time.
M: Goodness, and did his daughter, who is definitely not Lucie, know about his relapse?
L: No, just me and trusted friend who is definitely not Miss Pross. Hopefully his daughter will never know.
M: Oh that’s great news! I…er…he must be so relieved.
L: Indeed. And I would very much like to keep it that way, so, in your expert opinion, any idea what triggered it or if it might happen again? Any idea how I can prevent it or at the very least help him if it does?
M: I suspect he may have seen it coming and tried to prepare himself in vain. Knowing it would distress him greatly, he did the wisest thing and planned for the shock to happen on the morning of his daughter’s wedding. That would in no way potentially ruin the event. Having endured the shock of it, I do believe the worst is over.
L: Oh capital! That means I will no longer have to deal with any troublesome emotions. On to the next order of business then! Do you think my friend might be overexerting himself, and that this may have led to his recent episode?
M: Oh not at all. I think only some similar event would cause that. With all the other events that must occur in the next 130 pages it is simply impossible that such a thing would occur again. Totally predictable plot points like those simply don’t happen you see.
L: Quite so. One last point. During his bad time my friend picked up a trade, let’s say…blacksmithing. He had a little forge that he returned to during his relapse. Would it be wise to keep it around? Might it not remind him of his torment?
M: Well, yes, but he yearned for something to do so much during his prolonged bad time, and the fear of his need for it at some future time makes him terribly frightened to let go of it.
L: Well, I think it might do more harm than good. Do you think if my friend gave me his permission to remove it he would let me?
D: Yes that might be for the best, but it should be removed when he is away.
L: By an amazing coincidence he is due to go away on a little vacation soon. I shall do so at that point.
Manette leaves to join Lucie and Darnay. After he leaves Lorry and Pross destroy his shoemaking work bench.
Chapter 20
A Plea
Lucie and Darnay come home, and the first visitor to greet them is Carton. Carton pulls Darnay aside.
Carton: Remember that time I was drunk?
Darnay: Gonna have to be more specific.
C: I mean super drunk.
D: Gonna have to be more specific.
C: The time I kept forcing you to confess you disliked me.
D: Gonna have to be more specific.
C: The day of your trial where we had a super painful dinner together.
D: Oh, that. Forgot all about it.
C: Of course that’s the polite thing to say, but I haven’t forgotten.
D: Well, I had more pressing matters at the time what with narrowly escaping the gallows, and your help was invaluable, so don’t worry about it.
C: Yeah about that. My help was just some clever lawyering and meant nothing.
D: Well that’s just the polite thing to say.
C: In any case, you know I’m worthless and will always be so, right?
D: Well I don’t know about always.
C: Oh I will. So I’m wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I hang out here from time to time just lurking in the background being my worthless self.
D: Well you pretty much do that already, so sure, have at it.
He leaves, the rest have supper. Darnay mentions the conversation in passing and how miserable Carton is. Afterwards at bed, Lucie admonishes him and wishes he would be kinder about Carton. She tells him he is probably beyond saving, but is also capable of magnanimous things. Darnay realizes he had been kinda harsh in how he sounded and promises to be gentler in reference to him.
Chapter 21
Echoing Footsteps
Seasons change, time passes by, as the weeks become the months become the years.
Lucie and Darnay have Little Lucie, and then a little boy who dies while only a few years old. Stryver marries a widow with three boys “who had nothing particularly shining about them but the straight hair of their dumpling heads.” He tries to present them to Darnay for tutelage (remember that Darnay is a tutor) as “three lumps of bread-and-cheese towards your matrimonial picnic” and is politely rejected. I guess that means it is a money making opportunity for him? I couldn’t find a good explanation online. Must be an old timey phrase. Anyway, the rejection of his dumpling stepsons just causes Stryver to brood and tell anyone who will listen to “beware the pride of Beggars, like that tutor-fellow” and regale them with tales of how Lucie tried to ensnare him with her feminine wiles, which is totally what happened, as you know.
Carton stops by from time to time uninvited, just as he said he would, only he never seems to be drunk when he does. The kids (and then just Little Lucie) adore him. The year is now Anna Dominoes 1789 and Little Lucie is 6. On this particular evening, Mr. Lorry drops by to say hello.
Lorry: I say old chap, today has been positively cray cray at Tellson’s. Something has gotten the French all in a tizzy and they have been sending us their valuables left and right for safekeeping.
Dr. Manette: Well that’s not a good sign.
L: Certainly not, and the whole situation has definitively and unequivocally gotten my panties in a twist.
D: Well then, as a proper Englishman, there can only be one possible solution: Have some tea.
Meanwhile In Paris, Oprah parades through the streets with weapons saying “You get a musket! And you get a musket!” Then Billy Mays pops out and says “But wait, there’s more! Revolt now and get a free cutlass! I’ll even throw in this pitchfork! You had better act now because this mob energy won’t last forever!”
At the wine shop Defarge is also distributing weapons. Even Madame Defarge has exchanged her knitting for a “cruel knife.” More like crewel knife, amirite? Bah-dum-tssss. In an amazing coincidence, everyone in the wine shop this day is named Jacques.
Mel Gibson in full FREEDOM mode runs in and shouts “Everyone! To the Bastille!” The entire crowd is composed entirely of people name Jacques as well. Even Mel Gibson.
The air is thick with Boom! Crash! Pow! And other 60’s Batman action words. Mid afternoon the fortress surrenders and the mob rushes in. Defarge forces a guard to take him to 105 North Tower where he searches for clues left behind by Dr. Manette. Finding only his initials he burns the straw mattress and furniture and returns to the courtyard where the captured governor is being held. They march him to the town hall where the nobility and clergy are gathered in opposition to the people, cut of his head, and carry it around on a pike. That’s one way to get ahead I guess.
Chapter 22
The Sea Still Rises
It’s a week after the storming of the Bastille and so many onomatopoetic Batman word bubbles have been flying around that people now have cool superhero names like “The Vengeance” (not making that up).
THOR, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
The minister of finance, who famously said “If those rascals have no bread, then let them eat hay,” fled the city and spread rumors of his death. Defarge enters the wine shop to tell them that the rumors of his death had been greatly exaggerated and the corrupt old minister had in fact been captured just now. The rabble is roused, and off they stomp to the town hall for a good old fashioned lynching. They drag him to a light post and hang him with his mouth stuffed full of grass. Then they hunt down his son-in-law and do the same. After that they all go home to have a meager dinner and tell their kids a bedtime story that I am sure was totally wholesome.
Chapter 23
Fire Rises
Our friend Jacques the Road Mender sits contemplating how a wonderous and shiny ruler like Monseigneur Hot Chocolate could have caused such a desolate wasteland everywhere. He also thinks about food. Like most people, he is basically the opposite of a hobbit: no second breakfast, no elevensies, no tea time. Just a giant bowl of disappointment for supper.
A stranger appears on the road and asks for directions to the château of our late friend the Marquis, then takes a nap on a pile of stones while it hails periodically. This sounds very comfortable. At dusk Jacques the Road Mender wakes him and off he goes to the stone château to light it on fire.
Gabelle,(henchman for the late Marquis de Monsieur and the local tax man) rides into the village to plead for help. The residents decline but point out that the flames must be forty feet high. As you may recall, the scaffold they built over the fountain years ago was forty feet high. Nice callback Dickens, nice callback.
Next he rides to the prison to ask help from the guards. They are equally disinclined. At this point he suspects they may not be too fond of him, so he goes home and bars his door while the villagers discover that fancy carriages make very good tinder.
Chapter 24
Drawn to the Loadstone Rock
Three years have gone by, which have DEFINITELY been the Worcestershire of times in France, and the French nobility have all skedaddled to London and other far flung regions. A lot of them hover around Tellson’s either because they sent their valuables there before they all got ousted, or because they know people who did. Everyone comes there for news from France and to politely listen to the French nobility grumble about how they are gonna get revenge on their ungrateful peasants. It’s the best place for formerly rich aristocrats to do this because the English are way too polite to point out that it was obvious how they did this to themselves. Guess it’s the best of Shires for Tellson’s.
Inside, Lorry and Darnay chat:
Darnay: “But, although you are the youngest man that ever lived…”
Lorry: I’m too old?
D: Look, I’m just saying I think I should go instead.
L: Says the Frenchman who exiled himself.
D: Yeah, I am French, so I can totally fit in.
L: Nah, see, I’m going to collect and/or hide complicated papers that have both words AND numbers that are important to people. Stuff that lists the names of people’s first pets, what high school they went to, and the color of their first car. It’s best I go so I can hide them or whatever. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m old you whippersnapper!
D: Well at least take someone with you.
L: I will! I am taking Jerry. He makes for a good bodyguard and no one will suspect him of plotting anything since he clearly has a grand total of two brain cells in his head. We’re all set to leave tonight.
Just then another banker brings an envelope addressed to Marquis St. Evrémonde (Darnay’s true name that only Dr. Manette knows) and asks Mr. Lorry if he knows who that is. The crowd of disgruntled nobility all chime in about how Evrémonde is scummy scum who betrayed their delicate sensibilities. Stryver is there and joins in with insulting him:
Darnay: I know him.
Stryver: What what what!?!?! That is awful. Do you know what he did.
D: Put pineapple on pizza?
S: Worse. Much worse. He abandoned expensive property. It was super nice. I will spend the next two paragraphs vilifying him and explaining in detail how that is the worst imaginable crime.
D: So….bad?
S: The worst, and it’s too bad you know him, since his lack of greed is probably infectious, and if you get subverted into thinking there is more to life than money than those dangerous ideals might leak onto the children you teach.
D: Well, we can’t have that. I’ll be sure to tell Evrémonde that other rich people don’t like him.
S: You do that! Harrumph!
Darnay offers to take the letter to his secret alter ego, then leaves to read it in private.
Dear The Artist Formerly Known as Marquis St. Evrémonde,
Bad news, I’m in jail in Paris. I followed your instructions when you left telling me not to charge rent, collect as few taxes as possible, and generally be a chill dude. No one seemed to care too much about that though and everyone is super mad since I represented someone who left the country, namely you. Basically they’re just super mad that I pretended you were still here in France. Could you do me a solid and come bail me out?
Yours, Gabelle
That’s the short version. The long version is like five times longer because he adds “Please, The Artist Formerly Known as Marquis St. Evrémonde,” at the start and end of every sentence.
Darnay decides he has to go help, and it would be best if Lucie and her dad not know until he was gone, so he writes some letters, packs a bag, and leaves the next night on the pretense of a quick errand. I’m sure nothing bad could happen. If you don’t count the continual string of unfortunate events, so far nothing bad has occurred in this super cheerful book, so I am sure they will be fine.
WARNING: This part is pretty dark. Did my best to try to add some levity but it deals with the parts of the French Revolution called the September Massacres and the Reign of Terror, which both have very deserved names.
BOOK THE THIRD
The Track of a Storm
Chapter 1
In Secret
The French Revolution has been going on for three years now. In a surprising turn of events everyone is continuing to have the Worcestershire of times. Louis XVI still sits on the throne but it is now a constitutional monarchy rather than an absolute one, meaning that the king has very little actual power. Citizen patriots are everywhere, and in the spirit of Liberty and Equality they stop every single traveler at numerous checkpoints, question them, sometimes detain them, and sometimes turn them back. Now that they have gotten rid of that pesky oppression of the aristocracy, the common folk have more opportunities to oppress each other.
More important than oppressing each other though is hassling Darnay the emigrant, as he is called. He has been attempting to make his way to Paris but has been stopped twenty times a day, forced to backtrack, detained, and otherwise stuck in rush hour traffic. The roads are pretty crappy so there are construction zones everywhere. The whole country is basically the 290 freeway in Houston.
He stops at a small inn and is awoken in the middle of the night by more patriots who tell him that they have graciously decided to let him pay them for an escort to Paris. He declines but they insist that they are far too magnanimous to take no for an answer so off they go at 3 AM in the rain. Traveling in the middle of the night seems to be a theme in this book. It is clearly a wise course of action given the poor state of the roads.
They get into the town of Beauvais (which is coincidentally where Dr. Manette is from) and it turns out the escort is probably a good idea because the townsfolk reeeeaaaallly don’t like Darnay. They all shout that he should get killed right then and there and his escort protecc by telling them he will be tried in Paris. Turns out a decree was passed the day he left England marking all emigrants traitors and their property forfeit. You know what they say: misfortune favors the bold. At least I think that’s how it goes. I’ve been reading up on the French Revolution and turns out it is actually immensely complicated, and there are good reasons why emigrants are so feared, but to explain it would be a whole thing and distract us from the story at hand. In any event it suddenly makes sense why they ride at night if everyone they encounter goes full on Salem Witch Trials mode when they see him. Finally they arrive at the gates of Paris:
Guard: Papers for the prisoner please.
Darnay: Um, not a prisoner, and I paid for this escort.
Guard: Papers for the prisoner please.
They produce the papers and confer for a while.
Guard: Right then, off to La Force Prison for you then!
Darnay: Wait, what? I haven’t broken any laws.
Guard: Oh we just made some new laws, especially for you. Off you go now.
Defarge just so happens to be his escort to the prison:
Defarge: You’re the guy who married Dr. Manette’s daughter, right?
Darnay: Yep, see, I’m a decent Frenchman like yourself.
Defarge: Oh no, not like me. You’re scummy scum because you’re an aristocrat. What are you even doing here?
Darnay: Gotta do my buddy a solid and get him out of prison.
Defarge: As far as plans go, that is not a good one. You appear to be doing the exact opposite of getting someone out of prison.
Darnay: Well could you at least tell Mr. Lorry at Tellson’s Bank they threw me in jail?
Defarge: I could, but I won’t.
They walk in silence while Darnay has increasing regurts about having left England. They arrive at the La Force and he is handed off to the warden who escorts him up to solitary confinement. On the plus side, to get there he walks through a room full of fellow aristocratic prisoners who all raise their pinkies and brag about being pompous, so that helps him feel…um…well, nothing really. Also his straw mattress if full of bed bugs and if he wants to eat he has to buy his food, so things are coming along quite predictably.
Chapter 2
The Grindstone
To give some background: Prussian and Austrian forces were gathering at the borders because France was clearly unstable and they wanted to prepare for violence spilling over to their countries. France saw this as a sign of aggression so they started amassing an army, which actually lead to Prussia and Austria invading. The invaders were repelled but it led to a whole kerfuffle that eventually culminated in Napoleon and his shenanigans, but that is another story. In any case, at this point in our story, the current “government” (and I use this term loosely as it has as much turnover as my local McDonald’s, and was marked by factional violence) put out a call to arms on 2 September 1792 and everyone was afraid that if they all marched off to face the Austrians, then counter revolutionaries would infiltrate the city and take over while it was unguarded. Since the aristocracy was about as counter revolutionary as it got, everyone stormed the prisons and had a stabfest. This later became known as The September Massacres – a four day killing spree where around 1,100 prisoners were summarily executed and there was widespread slaughter in the prisons.
Anyway, back to our story – Tellson’s Bank office in Paris is located in a wing of Monseigneur Hot Chocolate’s mansion. He skittered off at the beginning of all this and GTFO of the country, so now his mansion is a party house, proper English bankers notwithstanding. Mr. Lorry sits in his office thinking about how glad he is that no one dear to him is in the city when Lucie and her father come bursting in. They know Darnay is there imprisoned and have come to rescue him, which is rather unfortunate timing as it is the middle of the Massacre.
Lorry tells Lucie to go hide in his bedroom while he shows Manette a giant grindstone in the mansion courtyard where blood smeared patriots clamor to sharpen their blades to earn their participation trophies in the stabathon. Manette rushes out to rescue Darnay. Turns out being a prisoner of the Bastille gives him celebrity status so he gets the crazed mob to help him in his rescue attempt. Off to La Force for a rescue adventure!
Chapter 3
The Shadow
Lucie has brought along Little Lucie and Miss Pross. This is a responsible decision given the precarious state of the country, so it’s probably for the best she didn’t leave them safely in England. Mr. Lorry, being a man of business, abhors the idea of them staying with him lest it damage the reputation of Tellson’s, so he goes out to find them lodgings in the least stabby part of town he can. They get settled and he heads back to the bank. Then who shows up? the Defarges and The Vengeance! They have a note for Lucie from Darnay and ask to deliver it in person so Madame Defarge can see and recognize Lucie and friends should the need arise. They deliver the note and Lucie is so happy know he is safe.
Lucie: Oh thank you so much!
Madame Defarge: …
L: You are truly wonderful!
M: …
L: You are gradually starting to seem more ominous.
M: ….
L: Well can you at least promise to help my husband?
M: Your husband is not my concern, I am here to take note of you.
L: to protect me, right?
M: …
L: I’m begging you as a mother.
M: I’ve seen lots of mothers suffer and die since I was born.
L: This is definitely now sounding ominous.
M: We are done here. Goodbye.
Also she is knitting the whole time. Every part of this interaction was cheerful.
Chapter 4
Calm In Storm
After four days, Dr. Manette returns and tells Mr. Lorry that he had arrived at La Force to find a self appointed tribunal meting out arbitrary punishments or dismissals on the prisoners one at a time. Defarge was one of the judges and vouched that Manette was indeed a prisoner of the Bastille, and they bring out Darnay for him to plead his case. They were about to release him when they change their mind because mumble mumble reasons. They sent him back to his cell and Manette got permission to guard him until the stabathon had reached its pledge drive goal and everyone who participated gets their NPR “World’s most macabre chapter in French history” coffee mug.
They settle in to play the long game and try to free Darnay. All the veneration Dr. Manette receives as a Bastille prisoner turns his old traumas into a strength and he has a new found resolve. I’m so glad Darnay chose to go to France to rescue his friend because it has really turned out well for him. He has successfully remained not dead. In prison still, but not dead, so baby steps. Manette becomes the attending physician of the prison and brings news to and from Darnay and Lucie. Public opinion being what it is though, he is about as successful at freeing Darnay as Darnay is at freeing his old servant.
A year and three months go by while the Reign of Terror rages. This is a period of the French Revolution when the guillotine was in full swing. Well, less swing and more drop I suppose. Jokes are made “of the sharp female called La Guillotine…it was the best cure for a headache, it was an infallible cure for turning the hair grey, it imparted a peculiar delicacy to the complexion, it was the National Razor that cut close.” I guess it being a laugh or cry sort of situation, they took my approach and dark humored their way through. Still no luck for Darnay though, but Manette is now well known and well respected for his doctoring.
Chapter 5
The Wood Sawyer
Darnay continues to be successfully not dead while Manette and Lucie settle into routine. One day Manette tells Lucie there is a particular window that Darnay can sometimes visit at three in the afternoon, and if she stands in just the right spot he can see her. She can’t see him, but he can maybe see her. She decides to start standing there every day in hopes of cheering him up. A great poet of the time, Madame Parton, even wrote a song about it:
Standing 2 to 4 What a way to make a living.
Barely getting by, it’s all standing and no sitting.
She just hopes he sees, but she’ll never get the credit.
It’s enough to drive her crazy if she lets it.
Said spot happens to right next to the hovel of a woodcutter making logs for the fireplace. It is none other than Jacques the Road Mender, who now calls himself “Samson of the Firewood Guillotine” and happily saws the heads off imaginary people while singing. How wholesome. He is curious why she is there but always says “None of my business” even though he clearly wants to make it his business.
A full year of this goes by, then one day there is a huge celebration because the Catholic Church has been renounced in favor of “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death”, which is the motto of the revolution (this is real). They all dance La Carmagnole in the streets, which is basically French square dancing. After they pass Manette comes by to tell her that Darnay’s hearing is scheduled for the next day and they need to preparate. Preperate, by the way, is an actual word. It is what you do to make preparations. You aren’t making “prepartions” after all, like you would when you prepare. It’s like prepare but with a bit of extra flair. Like, super prepare. Like, taking Preparation H while you prepare. Or something.
Darnay and twenty-two other prisoners are called the evening before to go to the Conciergerie (a special jail for those about to stand trial) , but only twenty actually respond, since one died in jail and two had already been guillotined. Isn’t that cheery?
The next day, he is sixteenth in line to be judged. The first fifteen took a grand total of an hour and a half combined and all of them were sentenced to death. Again, super cheerful time. Finally he is called:
Judges: You are an emigrant, correct?
Darnay: Yes and no.
Crowd: KILL HIM
Judges: Explain
Darnay: I left cuz I hate the aristocracy and I was set to BE the aristocracy, which is decidedly not cool.
Crowd: STILL PROBABLY KILL HIM!
Judges: Then why did you come back?
Darnay: To do my boy Gabelle a solid and get him un-arrested. Is that a crime?
[Gabelle comes in to corroborate]
Crowd: WE ARE STARTING TO WARM UP TO HIM!
Judges: Is it true you married while in England?
Darnay: Yes, to a French citizen by birth. The daughter of Dr. Manette actually.
Crowd: DR. MANETTE!?!?! WE LOVE THAT GUY!!!
Judges: Dr. Manette, is this true?
Manette: Yeah and the British reeeaaallly hated my man Darnay…er…Monsieur Evrémonde. They put him on trial for liking the Americans and everything.
Crowd: OKAY WE CHANGED OUR MINDS AND NOW LIKE DARNAY!!!
And with that Darnay is free! Gabelle politely points out that now that his story is corroborated he would quite like to be freed as well, if it isn’t too much trouble. Dickens is a bit vague on whether he is or not. Anyway, TBH I didn’t expect Darnay to actually be freed. Figured he was the dude who gets executed at the end with the whole “I only have one life to give!” and all that. I dunno, maybe he still is. We still have seventy pages to go after all.
He gets released and the crowd steals a chair from the courtroom to use as a palanquin for Darnay to get carried triumphantly home. When they arrive at the courtyard of Monsieur Hot Chocolate he embraces Lucie while the crowd all starts squaredancing. Darnay and Lucie go up to have a celebratory squaredance of their own, if you know what I mean.
Chapter 7
A Knock at the Door
Living in Paris is a major bummer these days. They see lots of people sentenced to death on little more than suspicion, informants are all around, they have to stay poor so they don’t attract attention or jealousy, and they have mandatory square dancing.
Miss Pross and Mr. Cruncher refuse to learn French on principle, so naturally they are the best fits for running errands like picking up groceries. Pross haggles by holding up one fewer finger than the merchant regardless of the number of fingers or the item in question and by generally being intimidating.
They go out to market the evening after Darnay’s release and then guards rush in to re-arrest Darnay! I knew he was gon’ get deaded. Someone has denounced him, and it turns out to be the Defarges and one other mystery person! And here they seemed cool at first. I guess someone peed in their Cheerios.
Chapter 8
A Hand of Cards
While Darnay Arrest 2: Electric Boogaloo is going down at the homestead, Pross and Cruncher are out shopping. They stop in a wineshop to pick up some celebratory wine for supper, and who do they find but Pross’s brother Solomon! She screams in surprise, causes a huge scene, and Solomon takes them out to the street to chat about how she has totally blown his cover. Turns out Solomon is actually John Barsad, the spy who tried to frame Darnay along with Roger Cly back at the beginning of the book. Well, more like John Barsad is actually Solomon I suppose, but still. And who should join this fun conversation other than Mr. Carton!
Carton informs Barsad/Solomon that he knows him to be a spy, and invites/threatens him to continue their conversation at Tellson’s Bank. Barsad grudgingly agrees, mostly so that Pross will stop making an embarassing scene. They drop Miss Pross off by her street, and then go visit Mr. Lorry at the bank. Carton goes on to explain that he followed him from the prison where Darnay was delivered to the wine shop then eavesdropped while he spoke to Roger Cly. Barsad denies this, saying that Cly is dead he has the burial papers to prove it. Jerry, who has been practicing his lurking skills in the corner, bursts in to state that he knows for a fact Cly was never buried, and the coffin was just full of paving stones. How does he know this? Don’t worry about it, but he does.
Remember when Jerry went “fishing” and Crunchito followed him only to be chased home by the spooky coffin? Well that explains why Jerry was so mad at his wife for foiling his “fishing” plans. Cly faked his own death.
Anyway, Carton threatens to expose Barsad as a spying spy who spies spyingly unless he helps him. Deciding that it would be best not to lose his head, Barsad agrees. The two go into a room for a private chat about what that help will entail.
Chapter 9
The Game Made
While Carton and Barsad converse in a side room, Mr. Lorry looks suspiciously at Jerry:
Lorry: Jerry, what were you besides a messenger?
Jerry: Definitely not a grave robber.
L: I am much distrust. If you were, I would denounce you when we got back to England.
J: I just said I’m not, but if I were, which I’m not, let me ramble about how it is actually an honest profession. Doctors and whatnot need bodies, so they work with graverobbers. Bankers work with doctors, which means you, as a banker, work with grave robbers, Not saying I am one, but again, even if I were, which I’m not, would you do me a solid and not fire Crunchito? If somehow I were a graverobber I would feel really bad about it and do penance by being an honest grave digger if you let Crunchito stay on as a sign holder. Besides, there are tons of headless bodies around here, so not like I’d be doing it now as there would be no profit in it. Also, I did speak up for a good cause when I could have stayed quiet.
L: Well that last part is true at least. Please stop talking. I’ll judge you by your actions but please for the love of long-winded, dear, sweet baby Jesus just stop talking.
Carton and Barsad come back in and Barsad and Jerry leave.
L: So Carton, what did you discuss?
C: Not much, just made arrangements to see Darnay after the trial should it not go in his favor.
L: Even if you do see him it won’t free him.
C: Never said it would.
L: [is sad]
C: Look, don’t tell Lucie I’m here in Paris or what arrangements I made. She might think all sorts of fanciful ideas and she has enough going on right now.
L: Quite right. In any event I’m set to leave for England on the morrow. I did all I came to do and would like to have done more, but alas, you can only do so much when you have little to no law in the area. Plus I am old, and old people have a tendency of dying, and I would rather do that back home.
C: So many people will miss you when you’re gone.
L: Well I don’t know about all that. Not an old bachelor like me.
C: Pretty sure Lucie will.
L: Well yeah, you’re probably right.
C: Think of how sad it would be to die and have no one miss you. If you had lived your whole life having done no good, and no one to mourn you.
L: Yeah, sad indeed.
[sad silence]
C: Welp. [slaps knee] Enough of this cheer. Are you off to see Lucie?
L: Indeed.
C: I will walk with you there then wander the streets like a lonely vagabond. Best thing to do when one is all depresso espresso.
He wanders to La Force, greets Samson the Wood Sawyer (formerly Jacques the Road Mender) who regales him in how splendid the executions were that day. Sixty-three people in record time. Isn’t that great? After that Carton goes to the chemist, who sells him several mystery packets of ingredients that he is warned not to mix together. Ether? bomb juice? Not sure. After that he wanders off to be sad some more. He mopes all night, dozes by the river, then heads off to the trial.
At the trial Darnay is shuffled in to the cheers of the throng:
Judges: [reads charges] And who denounces him?
Prosecutor: Madame and Monsieur Defarge and Dr. Manette.
Manette: Wait, what? Nothing is dearer to me than my daughter? No way would I do this! It’s a forgery!
Judges: Okay first of all, we thoroughly vet our sources in this kangaroo court, and second, pretty sure the Republic is most dear to you and you would sacrifice anything for it if asked, even your daughter, right?
[crowd roars approval]
Juudges: See? I thought so. Now, moving along, what proof do you have, Monsuier Defarge?
Defarge: Well, as you remember from yesterday’s kangaroo court, Manette was released to my care after his imprisonment, and he was quite addled. He only knew himself as “105 North Tower.” As you know, I was a cannoneer the day the Bastille fell. [More thunderous applause] and when the commotion was over I resolved to go examine 105 North Tower. In the chimney behind a loose stone I found this paper. [Holds up scraps of paper] I checked it against his handwriting and verified it to be his. I am about to read it, but to add extra pizzazz before I do, I will first end this chapter, since it is like ten pages long.
Chapter 10
The Substance of the Shadow
I, Alexandre Manette, write this note with a rusty nail for a pen and a mixture of ash and blood for ink, I have to be super sneaky in writing it or the guards will take it away. When I finish I will stash it here in the chimney in the hopes someone will find it after I am gone. I have been here ten years and it has become apparent to me I am starting to lose my mind. I am writing this while I still have my wits about me. How these small scraps of paper contain ten pages worth of story is anyone’s guess, but let’s just roll with it. I will be writing in short bursts so the guards don’t catch me, and focus only on the important parts like how I need to keep writing in secret. I will throw that reminder in every few paragraphs so you don’t forget.
One night in December of 1757 I was walking along the river when a black van stopped and two men came out offering candy. Candy is awesome, so of course I got in, but it was a lie. No candy. Only kidnap. Major disappointment. They drove me to a creepy solitary house, which was basically the Bates Motel, then led me up to an upper bedroom. A woman was convulsing with brain fever and tied to the bed with straps made of torn bits of shirt embroidered with the letter E. I gave her some medicine and observed her. She kept repeating “My Husband, my father, and my brother.” then counted to 12 and said “hush.”
This narrative must be brief so I will describe her repeating this phrase over and over by writing it out in full at least five more times before the narrative is done. At one point I will even write out “one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.” just in case you are unsure what numbers come between one and twelve.
Anyway, after half an hour of no improvement, my “hosts” took me to see another patient. On the way I realized the two men look similar enough to be twins.
The patient turned out to be a peasant boy with a fatal stab wound. I looked at it but he was a goner. He then related the story of how the woman screaming in bed was his sister, who married another peasant. One of the twins had taken a fancy to her and forced her husband to let him have her. He agrees, cuz what else is he gonna do, but he can’t make her willingly submit like they asked. In punishment they literally worked him and the woman’s father to death then took her anyway. Our stab victim escaped with his other sister, hid her, then came back to kill Monsieur. His murdering abilities were not up to the task, obviously, so he died in my arms, but not before cursing both brothers that karma would hunt them down eventually. They looked at the whole scene of him dying like he was some pitiable animal and he should have saved them all the trouble by dying instantly from the stab wound.
At this point I am fearful of being caught writing, so I must abridge my story. The downside is that from now on it will be the short version, but the upside is I spent two full pages describing the peasant boys story in detail, even though this is again only a few scraps of paper and time is short.
After that I went back to the sister, whose situation did not improve. The brothers made me swear to keep what I saw to myself. The next day the woman died. They gave me a giant stack of gold coins, which I refused, then drove me home. The day after that I found the coins on my doorstep with my name on it. Seeing as the nobles have total immunity from the courts and they explicitly told me to stay quiet, I did the only reasonable thing and wrote a letter to the ministry detailing the whole thing.
I should pause at this point to describe how it is pretty cold in this cell and it is difficult for me to continue writing.
Before I could send my letter, the wife of Marquis St. Evrémonde arrived to beg for news of the recently deceased. At this point I realized what the embroidered E on the shirt stood for. What with doctor/patient confidentiality I could tell her nothing, so instead I listened to her describe how awful her husband and brother-in-law were.
There was more to that conversation and I wish I could write in more detail but I have to choose between more description and describing how difficult it is for me to write, and we both know which one I am about to choose. You see the guards took a scrap of paper from me earlier with a stern warning so I had better wrap this up.
In any event as she left I saw a small boy in the carriage and the wife pleading that if no one were to atone for the crime of the peasant life then the boy probably would someday. I sent off the letter detailing the whole ordeal that day. As we all know doctor/patient confidentiality does not apply to letters to strangers, only to people who actually care. On New Years Eve a man in a black coat came to drive me to an urgent medical matter but instead drove me here to the Bastille. First no candy and now no medical emergency. I am starting to think that perhaps accepting rides from strangers is not in my best interest.
Had either of the brothers even had the decency to ever allow me news of my wife and child I might have said that God had not abandoned me, but as they have not I hereby denounce them and their descendants for all time. Especially that boy in that carriage who knew nothing about it.
Signed,
Alexandre Manette
Right, so that went well. The judges unanimously condemn him and tell the good doctor that he no doubt feels great joy in making his daughter a widow. Off to jail for Darnay’s execution the following afternoon. Cheers!
Chapter 11
Dusk
Lucie and Darnay are both pretty bummed about this outcome but they are allowed to say goodbye. Darnay tells Dr. Manette that it makes a whole lot more sense now why he dreaded learning his real last name and how valiantly he must have struggled against doing anything unkind. Darnay gets carried off to the prison, Lucie faints, and Carton pops out from the corner where he was lurking and offers to carry her to the waiting coach. He escorts them home and carries her up to bed. Little Lucie begs Carton to help, and hears him whisper to Lucie “A life you love.” I know, seemed like an odd thing to say to me too, but whatevs.
Carton encourages Manette to try to plead for Darnay’s release, even though everyone knows it is hopeless, mostly so they can all say they at least tried. Manette will go out to plead his case at sunset when the squaredancing in the street dies down and Carton will come round Mr. Lorry’s at 9 PM to see how it went.
Chapter 12
Darkness
Carton makes a plan to be as visible as possible that night so that a person such as he (one that looks exactly like Darnay, hint hint) is abroad in the city. He gets supper then goes to the Defarge wineshop. In the shop are Jacques Three, the Vengeance, and the Defarges. They all do a double take and tell each other how extraordinarily similar to Darnay he looks. He buys some wine, picks up a paper, and starts eavesdropping.
Defarge: We gotta draw the line somewhere in dealing with the Evrémondes.
Madame Defarge (M): Yeah, at extermination.
Defarge: Seems a bit extreme. I mean, Dr. Manette looked super bummed.
M: Exactly why we need to exterminate him. A true patriot wouldn’t be sad.
D: Well his daughter, now soon to be widow, was super bummed, so he was probably bummed for her sake.
M: More reason exterminate all of them.
D: Look, maybe just kill Darnay and call it good. They’ve suffered enough.
M: Listen, I’ve been keeping a ledger of who to kill for a while now, right?
D: Yeah.
M: And after we stormed the Bastille and you found the paper and read it remember how I revealed a new plot twist?
D: Yeah.
M: And that plot twist was that the woman who died of brain fever was my sister! The peasant boy who was stabbed was my brother! The two men that were worked to death were my brother-in-law and father! The Evrémondes killed them all, right?
D: Right, but you’re getting kind of worked up, so maybe calm down.
Oooooooooh. Big mistake my dude. Didn’t you read the “Things never to say to an angry woman” handbook? Even if not, it’s common sense to say precisely NOT-THAT in a situation like this. Her reaction is pretty much exactly what you might expect.
Carton pays for his drink and makes a big show of looking confused about French money to show he is an English foreigner, then asks for directions. He leaves and goes to the bank to find Mr. Lorry having just arrived. Lorry is all in a tizzy because Manette isn’t back yet. He leaves Carton to wait for him while he goes back to console Lucie.
Lorry comes back around midnight to see if Manette has come back yet, and just then Manette finally shows up. He looks completely dejected and starts begging for his shoe making tools. He is totally addled and in shoemaking mode again, which is a decidedly not great plot development. They tell him to sit down while the fetch the tools for him, then they step like five feet away to have a “private conversation” without lowering their voices at all. This always somehow works in movies even though the people they stepped away from are silently waiting in full view, so it works here too.
Lorry: We had better take him to Lucie.
Carton: Quite right, but it’s obvious that the plan to pardon Darnay did not go well, so before we do that I am gonna give you some instructions and please don’t ask me to explain them. First, here are my travel papers identifying me as Sydney Carton. I am going to visit Darnay in prison before his execution and I can’t take them with me into the prison because reasons. Can you please hold them for me?
L: Kind of random but okay.
C: Next, in Dr. Manette’s coat you’ll find papers granting free travel for him, Lucie, and Little Lucie in and out of the city and country. Best hang onto those too.
L: Okay, well that part makes sense given his condition.
C: Exactly. Those travel papers are good until revoked, and I have a feeling they will be soon, since I overheard Madame Defarge get told to calm down by her husband.
L: Oh dear, didn’t he read the “Things never to say to an angry woman” handbook?
C: Right? That’s what I thought. Anyway, I visited my spy Barsad, who told me that Madame Defarge is in league with a Samson the Wood Sawyer who lives by the prison. Defarge told him to say that he saw Lucie giving secret hand signals to a prisoner at the window, and that will be a pretext to have all of them sent to the guillotine as well.
L: I am horrified.
C: Understandable, but it is up to you to save them. As you know it is a capital offense to mourn those executed by the guillotine. It’s a sure bet that Lucie and her father will be visibly sad, so Madame Defarge will wait a few days, maybe even a week, before making her accusation. That way they have a chance to show their grief and strengthen her case. You with me so far?
L: Following you like a lost puppy.
C: Right, so since you literally run a bank, you have enough money to buy the fastest possible means of getting to the coast and out of the country. You need to have horses and a carriage ready to go at 2 PM sharp.
L: On it like like white on rice on a paper plate in a snowstorm.
C: Good man. Now, go tell Lucie the plan and impress on her that the life of her father and daughter depend on it. She might not want to leave if it were just her, so you have to make her get ready to leave for their sake. Quietly arrange for the carriage in the courtyard, with everyone ready to go, and the moment I appear, I will hop in the carriage and away we go at all haste. You need to promise you will wait for no reason.
L: I will forego asking the obvious question that the reader is probably thinking of why we need to wait till 2 and where you are off to when the need to leave is so dire, and instead just go with it.
C: Okay good, best not to ask questions, because at this point it is probably obvious to the readers what I am planning. Just remember that if you deviate even slightly from this plan, literally everyone will die. Die to death. Horribly. No pressure though.
Then they step the five feet back to Manette, and coax him to put on his hat and coat and take him home, by enticing him with the promise of his workbench and tools.
Chapter 13
Fifty-two
Darnay and fifty-one other prisoners are slated for execution. In his cell, he steels himself to his coming death, and writes a letter to Lucie:
Dear Lucie,
Totally didn’t know about your father’s imprisonment till you did, and had no idea my father or uncle played any part in it till today. I kept my true name 0f Evrémonde a secret at your father’s request, which makes much more sense now. For his sake please don’t ask him if he had forgotten about his secret note or not. He might have been too addled to remember and if not he probably thought it was destroyed. Take care of him and convince him he did nothing wrong in writing it. Look after Little Lucie and I’ll TTYL in heaven.
YOLO,
Charles
He also write a letter to her father.
Dear Manette,
Now remember: no regurts yo. You had better take care of Lucie and Little Lucie or so help me I will haunt you so hardcore you’ll wish I would stop haunting you so hardcore. Only I won’t. I will go full on creepy porcelain doll on you from the afterlife. So look after them. Or else.
Love,
Charles
Last he writes a letter to Mr. Lorry
Dear Mr. Lorry,
You’re a man of business, so I will stick to boring last will and testament things. Blah blah blah. Business. The end.
Have fun being not dead,
Charles
He totally forgets about Carton.
The next morning he wakes up and spends the hours pacing about. Around 1 PM Carton pops in to say hello.
Darnay: I am much shocked.
Carton: No time for that, I come with a message from your wife. Just pretend that she is asking in her most pleading voice for us to swap clothes.
D: That seems like a totally reasonable thing for her to ask, so I will comply without question. I can’t escape though, you know?
C: Who said anything about escape? Quick, now that you are dressed like me you need to write down what I am about to dictate word for word. You’ll need to focus on it so you don’t notice me preparing ether.
D: Again, seems totally normal, so okay.
C: “If you remember the words that passed between us, long ago, you will readily comprehend this when you see it. You do remember them, I know. It is not in your nature to forget them.”
D: I am starting to smell ether. Weird but oh well, I will keep writing.
C: Good. “I am thankful that the time has come, when I can prove them. That I do so is no subject for regret or grief. If it had been otherwise, I should have had but the more to answer for.”
D: That looks suspiciously like ether.
C: Surprise! It’s ether!
Darnay passes out, Carton calls in Barsad.
C: Now call for aid to carry him out. Tell him the parting has overwhelmed him and he fainted.
B: You sure you won’t rat me out?
C: If I did I’m pretty sure we would both get the chop, so not really motivated to.
B: That’s fair.
C: Now do as we agreed, take him to the courtyard, put him in the carriage, and tell Lorry to race away all quick like.
[Calls guards]
B: Oh look, This person who is dressed like Carton, because he is definitely Carton and not Evrémonde, has fainted! Let’s take him out and leave the person who is definitely Evrémonde to contemplate his imminent doom.
Carton is left to do just that for a while till all the prisoners are called out and the guards say “Okay, everyone find you guillotine buddy. Remember, safety first!” Then a young seamstress approaches Carton.
Seamstress: Citizen Evrémonde! Remember me? We were in La Force Prison together.
Carton: Erm…of course I remember. Tell me again what you were in for?
S: Plotting sinister sewing patterns or something I guess.
C: Oh right, that would do it.
S: I’m not afraid to die, especially if it will help the Republic, though I don’t see how it could. I am definitely not afraid, but maybe we could be guillotine buddies and I could ride with you in the paddy wagon? So I can be extra not afraid?
C: Of course.
S: [Leans closer and recognizes he is not Evrémonde] Le gasp!
C: Shhh!!!
S: You are taking his place at the gallows.
C: Obviously.
S: Fair point. Can we still be guillotine buddies?
C: Definitely. By the way, I’m single you know.
Meanwhile, Lorry drives the getaway car with everyone but Pross and Jerry. It is decided that in order to not overburden the coach they should head on after them in a sportscar: really fast and probably without a muffler. They are both free to come and go in Paris and France in general, so it makes sense. Plus, this way they can speed along and prepare the way for the changing of horses and such.
Lorry and friends are stopped at the city border to see their passports.
Guard: Alexandre Manette? Which is he?
Lorry: The one muttering about shoes and rocking in the corner.
G: Ah, too much revolutionary fever. Happens a lot these days, people getting overwhelmed by all the good work we do.
L: Good work, yep. That’s it all right.
G: Lucie Manette? Which is she?
L: The only grown woman in the carriage? Right there. [Points in obvious]
G: Here, give me a kiss Lucie, so you can know what it’s like to kiss a real Republican and not a traitor.
Gross but okay.
G: Little Lucie, child. Which one is she?
L: Literally the only child in the carriage.
G: Oh okay. As you are probably gathering, I am not terribly bright. Next travel papers are for Sydney Carton.
L: He’s the one passed out in the corner. He’s had ill health lately and a friend of his is in jail.
G: Everyone has a friend in jail these days. He’ll get over it. Last is Jarvis Lorry. Which one is that.
L: As I am the only person you have left to identify, it is probably me.
G: Right, again I am clearly dumb. Just last week I had an old man and a boy with two droids that we were looking for, but he told me they were not the droids we were looking for so I let them pass. Did I get an earful for that one, I tell ya. Anyway, move along, move along.
Out into the country they ride. They make haste, but not too much haste lest they draw attention. Like a casual sort of haste. Like speedwalking kind of haste. They stop at a village to gas up (change out horses) and casually wait while the station attendant with missing teeth counts out their change one coin at a time. It is a tense scene so of course he takes his time.
Finally they are back on the road and continue to leisure speed along.
Chapter 14
The Knitting Done
While Carton and Darnay are doing their switcharoo, Madame Defarge, the Vengeance, and Jacques Three confer in Samson the Wood Sawyers shack.
Madame Defarge: My husband is a good patriot and all, but he has a weakness for the doctor, so I can’t trust him in this matter. I don’t much care if the doctor dies, but the wife and child have to be exterminated (yes, she uses the word exterminated) and might as well make it an even four.
Jacques Three: Oh cool! Her curly golden hair would look great as a dismembered head, and we don’t get too many kids, so that’s a plus.
(Macabre much?)
M: Exactly, and I can’t let my husband know or he might get soft and warn them. Then they might escape
J: We can’t have that, we’re not filling our quota of sixty heads a day as it is on most days, and that simply won’t do.
M: Yes, meeting the quota is a plus, but mostly I have an irrational need to exterminate everyone tangentially related to my family’s murder even if they weren’t even alive when it happened. My husband is just too obnoxiously rational for the job. Like I always said, if you want bloodlust done right, you have to do it yourself. Now, Wood Sawyer, you remember what I told you to say, right?
Wood Sawyer: Yep, She stood there every day in all weather from 2-4 making secret hand gestures.
M: Perfect. Now how does everyone feel about killing the doctor? Doesn’t really matter to me either way.
J: Quota, Remember? He counts for a head same as any other. We are clearly no longer dispensing justice but just like to chop, right?
M: That’s the spirit! Now, go save me a seat for the afternoon Beheadathon while I go over to visit the Manettes. Lucie will probably be all bummed and grieving, and likely to curse the Republic, so it is the perfect opportunity to catch her expressing emotion. See you in a bit, I am off to have the author spend a full page describing how scary and ominous I am while I walk through the streets.
While she is making her determined way to the Manettes, Jerry and Pross watch the getaway coach speed away, then make plans of their own.
Pross: Time to go rent a sportscar. Might not be wise to leave from this courtyard, since two carriages leaving the same day might attract notice.
Jerry: Sounds good. Before we go though, I’d like you to make note of two promises I want to make, in case I don’t make it.
P: Okay, shoot.
J: First, I promise to Lorry and friends that I’ll never do it again.
P: Not sure what “it” is but okay.
J: Definitely not graverobbing, though if it were graverobbing, I wouldn’t do that again either.
P: I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.
J: Next, I promise not to interfere with Mrs. Cruncher flopping about and cursing me.
P: Not sure what that is all about but again, sure. If we ever make it back to England I will be sure to tell her of your promise. Now can we get going please?
J: Okay. What’s the plan?
P: You go get a sportscar from Enterprise Rent-A-Horse, and pick me up at the cathedral.
J: Shouldn’t we stick together?
P: No because…well…the author doesn’t really say why, but just no. Pick me up at 3 at the cathedral.
Jerry goes off to get the sportscar while Pross composes herself so she doesn’t look sus walking through town. She is splashing cold water on her face when she looks up to find Madame Defarge standing in the doorway looking ominous. She realizes all the doors are left wide open, making it look like everyone just fled, so she goes around closing them all, because closing them after the fact is somehow less suspicious. Then she turns to face Defarge:
Pross: You look about as pleasant as Lucifer’s wife but I can definitely out-stubborn you.
Madame Defarge: Where is Lucie Manette?
At this point we learn that Madame Defarge speaks no English, and we already know that Pross never learned French, so instead they decide to settle things with a dance-off. Essentially Defarge demands to see Lucie, and Pross is determined not to let he into the empty room behind her, because she knows that until Defarge is certain she has gone, she won’t start pursuit, and the longer she stalls, the greater chance the rest have to get away. They both have super sweet dance moves, so the situation is a bit of an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, only set to Dance Dance Revolution. Defarge lunges for the door, Pross bear hugs her with the strength of a drowning woman, they struggle, Defarge goes for the gun she is packing in her bra, Pross sees it and baps at it, discharging it into Defarge’s chest. The point blank gun blast deafens them both, but Defarge’s lack of hearing is mostly due to the giant gunshot wound in her chest, Pross just has hearing loss. Sucks to suck Defarge. Sucks to suck.
Pross puts on a bonnet with a veil to hide all the dishevelment resulting from the dance off, then goes to the cathedral. Jerry picks her up and at first Pross is confused why she can’t hear anything, so she repeatedly asks if there are any street noises. Jerry gradually figures out that she has gone deaf. Sadly this is permanent, but at least Defarge is dead, right? Hear hear!
Chapter 15
The Footsteps Die Out Forever
The fifty-two prisoners slowly roll along the streets to the guillotine. Bystanders continuously ask the guards to point out Darnay so they can jeer him while he quietly stands holding the seamstresses hand. They arrive at the chopping block while the Vengeance frantically searches and calls for Madame Defarge. The other women sit knitting and casually looking as each head tumbles into the basket and is held up. Carton steps out, still holding the hand of the seamstress, while everyone jeers him. He has a curious serene smile on his face that spectators will later remember. His inner monologue sees a shining new future rising from the ashes. He sees Little Lucie grow to be a beautiful woman, and a family that will always remember him for what he did. He is content knowing that he has finally done something worthwhile. He finishes with the famous line:
It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.
