Again Dickens s brings the world of his characters to life ( )

Dickens's second novel, clearly not his best but still nicely Dickensian. The first half is far stronger, when Dickens is attacking the Poor Laws, and the political stance that the poor are themselves to blame for their plight, with the most incisive satire. He could have been the Jon Stewart of his day. Here he is describing the bleak orphanage Oliver is sent to:

The parish authorities magnanimously and humanely resolved, that Oliver should be 'farmed', or, in other words, that he should be dispatched to a branch-workhouse some three miles off, where twenty or thirty other juvenile offenders against the poor-laws, rolled about the floor all day, without the inconvenience of too much food or too much clothing, under the parental superintendence of an elderly female, who received the culprits at and for the consideration of sevenpence-halfpenny per small head per week. Sevenpence-halfpenny's worth per week is a good round diet for a child; a great deal may be got for sevenpence-halfpenny, quite enough to overload its stomach, and make it uncomfortable. The elderly female was a woman of wisdom and experience; she knew what was good for children; and she had a very accurate perception of what was good for herself. So, she appropriated the greater part of the weekly stipend to her own use, and consigned the rising parochial generation to even a shorter allowance than was originally provided for them. Thereby finding in the lowest depth a deeper still; and proving herself a very great experimental philosopher.

And describing the theory of how to lessen the welfare rolls:

'Mrs. Corney,' said the beadle, smiling as men smile who are conscious of superior information, 'out-of-door relief, properly managed: properly managed, ma'am, is the porochial safeguard. The great principle of out-of-door relief is, to give the paupers exactly what they don't want; and then they get tired of coming.'
'Dear me!' exclaimed Mrs. Corney. 'Well, that is a good one, too!'
'Yes. Betwixt you and me, ma'am,' returned Mr. Bumble, 'that's the great principle; and that's the reason why, if you look at any cases that get into them owdacious newspapers, you'll always observe that sick families have been relieved with slices of cheese.'

Dickens is generally at his Dickensian best right away in these early parts, satirizing a cruel and hypocritically Christian society in which vast numbers of people live in extreme poverty. Oliver Twist himself is really but a generic entity around which to write, given a completely pure hearted and noble nature. He reminds me of Voltaire's Candide: an innocent to whom bad things continuously happen as a way for the author to make his philosophical and political point.

The second half of the novel... well, here things deteriorate into a series of outlandishly improbable events that result in Oliver's parentage being discovered and his inheritance and gentlemanly future becoming secured. Dickens writes scenes that might more likely belong in a hackneyed romance of the era. Oliver gains no depth, continuing to be an impossibly pure and noble child. Meanwhile several villains are given their comeuppance in what one assumes was a young Dickens's condescension for mass popularity. He's certainly better than this.
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Ky variant i përshtatur na njeh me fatin e një jetimi të varfër, që jeta do ta përplasë në mjediset më të dyshimta të Londrës. Fati i Oliver Tuistit tregon, se e rëndësishme është të luftosh për një jetë më të mirë dhe të jetosh me ndershmëri. Duke lexuar këtë libër, fëmijët do të njihen edhe me shumë ngjarje e personazhe të tjera mbresëlënëse.

Having now worked my way through most of the Dickens canon, feel confident stating that this isn’t one of his more masterly outings. The plot is transparent, over-reliant on deux ex machina (okay, his plots are *always* over-reliant on improbable coincidence, but this one even more so than most), and the protagonist Oliver is, frankly, a bit of a sop, possessing ample virtue and gratitude but little in the way of intelligence, personality, or gumption. (Not for nothing, this is one of Dickens' earliest works, penned a full 20 years before his brilliant Tale of Two Cities.) So what does it say that I still waited with baited breath to see what would happen in each new chapter? Dickens’ narration is so clever, his characters so original, his wit so biting that even a lesser outing still has the power to beguile.

To be fair, I think the reason Dickens doesn't bother to endow Oliver with any particular qualities is because the author is interested in telling an entirely different tale. Our milquetoast protagonist merely provides a narrative device for Dickens to whisk us off on an exploration of London’s repugnant underworld – the frauds, pickpockets, burglars, whores, fences, and murderers that prey not merely on the unwary, but particularly on the desperate, especially children. One reason people may be put off by this story is that the most fully realized characters are wholly odious, from Fagin, the physically and morally repellant leader of a gang of thieves comprised of children he has gleefully corrupted; to Bumble, the absurd parochial Beadle who uses the prestige of his office to mask his casual cruelty; to Sikes, the physically and mentally abusive villain who mistreats his dog and his girlfriend Nancy in equal measure, confident that – in a dark underworld in which they live, where filth is rampant, life is cheap, and exploitation inescapable - neither of them have a choice but to endure his violence.

In anyone else’s hands, this dark tale would be almost unreadable, but what Dickens does so well in all his tales, and certainly here, is to layer this darkness with so much absurdity, humor, wit, and empathy that you keep reading in spite of your revulsion. The scene in which Bumble woos his bride is truly hilarious; the moment that the Artful Dodger meets his fate with a dazzling display of proud insouciance, undeniably affecting; the scene in which Nancy turns her back on the hope of redemption, heartbreaking. And then, in between these scenes, a thousand other moments, some ridiculous, some shocking, some poignant, some ironic, some but all organized into a compelling story and related via Dickens’ deliciously penetrating prose.

Having just recently polished off a bunch of novels that received critical plaudits (Nobel Prize winners, Booker Prize winners, Pen/Faulkner prize winners), feel like I can honestly say that even this relatively weak effort by Dickens deserves to stand alongside the best of what’s being published now. Who else but Dickens is capable of combining the social commentary of Barbara Kingsolver, the grim brutality of Cormac McCarthy, the absurd wit of P.G. Wodehouse, and the unconditional empathy of Toni Morrison into a single affecting tale? ( )

I really liked listening to Great Expectations and David Copperfield, so I expected to like this as well. And I did! Until I got about halfway through and completely lost interest. I made it as far as Oliver living with Mrs. Maylie. I knew Nancy's death was coming and it was bumming me out so I decided to just quit.

Perhaps I will come back to this someday, but I think I read enough to know that this is not Dickens' best. Oliver is a boring character. The best part is Dickens pointing out how completely unfair the world is for the poor. Fagin calling everyone "my dear" will haunt me, as well as him being constantly referred to as "the Jew." ( )