Dombey and son about what. "Trading house Dombey and Son

In 1846, in Switzerland, Dickens conceived and began writing a new great novel, which he completed in 1848 in England. Latest chapters it was created after the February Revolution of 1848 in France. It was Dombey and Son - one of Dickens's most significant works in the first half of his creative career. The realistic skill of the writer, developed in previous years, appeared here in full force.

“Have you read Dombey and Son,” wrote V.G. Belinsky. Annenkov P.V. shortly before his death, getting acquainted with the last work of Dickens. – If not, hurry up and read it. It's a miracle. Everything that Dickens wrote before this novel now seems pale and weak, as if by a completely different writer. This is something so excellent that I’m afraid to say: my head is out of place from this novel.”

“Dombey and Son” was created at the same time as “Vanity Fair” by Thackeray and “Jane Eyre” by S. Bronte. But it is quite obvious that Dickens's novel differs from the works of his contemporaries and compatriots.

The novel was created at the time of the peak of Chartism in England, at the height of revolutionary events in other European countries. In the second half of the 1840s, the groundlessness of many of the writer’s illusions, and above all his belief in the possibility of class peace, became increasingly obvious. His confidence in the effectiveness of the appeal to the bourgeoisie could not help but be shaken. "Dombey and Son" reveals with great conviction the inhumane essence of bourgeois relations. Dickens strives to show the interconnection and interdependence between various aspects of life, the social conditioning of human behavior not only in public, but also in personal life. Dickens's novel reflected; program, his aesthetic credo, a moral ideal associated with a protest against the selfishness and alienation of man in society. In Dickens, the beautiful and the good are the highest moral categories; evil is interpreted as forced ugliness, a deviation from the norm, and therefore it is immoral and inhuman.

Dombey and Son is different from all previous Dickens novels and in many of its features marks the transition to a new stage.

In Dombey and Son there is almost an imperceptible connection with literary tradition, that dependence on examples of the realistic novel of the 18th century, which is noticeable in the plot structure of such novels as The Adventures of Oliver Twist, The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby, even Martin Chuzzlewit. . The novel differs from all previous works of Dickens both in its composition and emotional intonation.

The novel “Dombey and Son” is a work with many characters, and at the same time, when creating it, the author used a new principle for organizing artistic material. If Dickens constructed previous novels as a series of sequentially alternating episodes or included several parallel developing and at certain moments intersecting plot lines, then in Dombey and Son everything, down to the smallest detail, is subordinated to the unity of plan. Dickens departs from his favorite manner of organizing the plot as a linear movement, developing several plot lines that arise from their own contradictions, but are intertwined in one center. It becomes the Dombey and Son company, its fate and the fate of its owner: the life of the owner of the ship's tools shop, Solomon Giles, and his nephew Walter Gay, the aristocrat Edith Granger, the family of the fireman Toodle, and others are connected with them.

Dombey and Son is a novel about the “greatness and fall” of Dombey, a major London merchant. The character on whom the author's main attention is focused is Mr. Dombey. No matter how great Dickens' skill in portraying such characters as the manager of the Dombey and Son form Carker, Dombey's daughter Florence and his early deceased little son Paul, Dombey's wife Edith or her mother Mrs Skewton - all these images ultimately develop the main theme is the Dombey theme.

Dombey and Son is, first and foremost, an anti-bourgeois novel. The entire content of the work, its figurative structure is determined by the pathos of criticism of private property morality. Unlike novels named after the main character, this work has the name of a trading company in the title. This emphasizes the importance of this company for Dombey’s fate and indicates the values ​​that a successful London businessman worships. It is no coincidence that the author begins the work by defining the meaning of the company for the main character of the novel: “These three words contained the meaning of Mr. Dombey’s whole life. The earth was created for Dombey and the Son, so that they could carry out trade on it, and the sun and moon were created to illuminate them with their light... Rivers and seas were created for the navigation of their ships; the rainbow promised them good weather, the wind favored or opposed their enterprises; the stars and planets moved in their orbits in order to preserve the indestructible system in which they were at the center.” Thus, the Dombey and Son firm becomes an image - a symbol of bourgeois prosperity, which is accompanied by the loss of natural human feelings, a kind of semantic center of the novel.

Dickens's novel was originally intended to be a "tragedy of pride." Pride is important, although not the only quality of the bourgeois businessman Dombey. But it is precisely this feature of the protagonist that is determined by his social position as the owner of the Dombey and Son trading company. In his pride, Dombey loses normal human feelings. The cult of business in which he is engaged and the consciousness of his own greatness turn the London businessman into a soulless automaton. Everything in the Dombey house is subordinated to the harsh necessity of fulfilling one's official duties - serving the company. The words “must” and “make an effort” are the main ones in the vocabulary of the Dombey surname. Those who cannot be guided by these formulas are doomed to death, like Dombey’s first wife Fanny, who failed to “make an effort.”

Dickens's ideological plan is revealed in Dombey and Son as the characters' characters develop and the action unfolds. In his portrayal of Dombey - a new version of the Chuzzlewit and Scrooge - the writer achieves a realistic generalization of enormous artistic power. Resorting to his favorite artistic means of constructing a complex image, Dickens paints a portrait detail by detail, creating the typical character of a bourgeois entrepreneur.

The writer carefully describes Dombey's appearance and shows it in inextricable connection with the surrounding environment. The character traits of Dombey, a businessman and exploiter, a callous and selfish egoist, formed in a certain social practice, are transferred to the house in which he lives, the street on which this house stands, and the things that surround Dombey. The house is as prim, cold and majestic inside and out as its owner; most often it is characterized by the epithets “dull” and “deserted”. The household objects that the writer depicts serve to continue the characterization of their owner: “Of all the... things, the unbending cold fireplace tongs and the poker seemed to claim the closest relationship with Mr. Dombey in his buttoned tailcoat, white tie, with a heavy gold watch chain and squeaky shoes."

Mr Dombey's coldness is emphasized metaphorically. The words “cold” and “ice” are often used to describe a businessman. They are played out especially expressively in the chapter “The Christening of the Field”: it’s cold in the church where the ceremony takes place, the water in the font is icy, it’s cold in the state rooms of the Dombey mansion, guests are offered cold snacks and ice-cold champagne. The only person who does not experience discomfort in such conditions is the “icy” Mr. Dombey himself.

The house reflects the fate of its owner in the future: it is “decorated with everything that money can buy” on the days of Dombey’s second wedding and becomes a ruin on the days of his bankruptcy.

Dombey and Son is a social novel; the main conflict revealed through Mr. Dombey's relationship with the outside world is of a social nature: the author emphasizes that the main driving force that determines the fate of people in bourgeois society is money. At the same time, it is possible to define the novel as a family novel - it is a dramatic story about the fate of one family.

Emphasizing that Dombey’s personal qualities are related to his social status, the author notes that even in assessing people, a businessman is guided by ideas about their importance for his business. Trade “wholesale and retail” turned people into a kind of commodity: “Dombey and Son often dealt with the skin, but never with the heart. They provided this fashionable product to boys and girls, boarding houses and books.” Mr. Dombey's financial affairs and the activities of his company, to one degree or another, influence the fate of the other characters in the novel. “Dombey and Son” is the name of the company and at the same time the history of a family, in the members of which its head saw not people, but only obedient executors of his will. Marriage for him is a simple business transaction. He sees his wife’s task as giving the company an heir and cannot forgive Fani for her “negligence”, which manifested itself in the birth of her daughter, who for the father is nothing more than “a counterfeit coin that cannot be invested in the business.” Dombey rather indifferently greets the news of the death of his first wife from childbirth: Fanny “fulfilled her duty” in relation to her husband, finally giving birth to the long-awaited son, giving her husband, or rather, his company, an heir.

However, Dombey is a complex character, much more complex than all of Dickens's previous hero-villains. His soul is constantly weighed down by a burden that sometimes he feels more, sometimes less. It is no coincidence that Mr. Dombey appears to Paul’s nurse as a prisoner “imprisoned in solitary confinement, or a strange ghost who can neither be called nor understood.” At the beginning of the novel, the author does not explain the essence and nature of Dombey's condition. It gradually becomes apparent that much is explained by the fact that the forty-eight-year-old gentleman is also a “son” in the firm of Dombey and Son, and many of his actions are explained by the fact that he constantly feels his duty to the firm.

Pride does not allow Mr. Dombey to indulge in human weaknesses, for example, self-pity on the occasion of the death of his wife. Most of all, he is worried about the fate of little Paul, on whom he places great hopes and whom he begins to educate, perhaps even with excessive zeal, trying to interfere with the natural development of the child, overloading him with activities and depriving him of leisure and fun games.

The children in Dickens's house are generally unhappy, they are deprived of childhood, deprived of human warmth and affection. Simple and warm-hearted people, for example, nurse Toodle, cannot understand how a father can not love little Florence, why he makes her suffer from neglect. However, it is much worse that Dombey, as he is portrayed at the beginning of the story, is generally incapable of true love. Outwardly it may seem that Paul does not suffer from the lack of fatherly love, but even this feeling is dictated by Dombey primarily for business reasons. In the long-awaited son, he sees, first of all, a future companion, an heir to the business, and it is this circumstance that determines his attitude towards the boy, which his father accepts as genuine feelings. Imaginary love takes on a destructive character, like everything that comes from Mr. Dombey. Paul is not an abandoned child, but a child deprived of a normal childhood. He does not know his mother, but remembers the face of Mrs. Toodle bending over his crib, whom he loses due to the whims of his father (Paul “was losing weight and frail after the removal of his nurse and for a long time seemed to be just waiting for the opportunity ... to find his lost mother”). Despite the boy’s fragile health, Dombey strives to “make a man out of him” as quickly as possible, ahead of the laws of development. Little, sickly Paul cannot endure the system of education into whose power his father gave him. Mrs. Pipchin's boarding school and the clutches of education at Dr. Blimber's school finally undermine the strength of the already weak child. Tragic death little Paul is inevitable, for he was born with a living heart and could not become a true Dombey.

With bewilderment rather than with pain, Dombey experiences the premature death of his son, because the boy cannot be saved by money, which in Mr. Dombey’s mind is everything. In essence, he endures the death of his beloved son as calmly as he once did with his words about the purpose of money: “Dad, what does money mean?” - “Money can do anything.” - “Why didn’t they save mom?” This naive and ingenuous dialogue baffles Dombey, but not for long. He is still firmly convinced of the power of money. The loss of his son for Dombey is a great business failure, because little Paul for his father is, first of all, a companion and heir, a symbol of the prosperity of the Dombey and Son company. But as long as the company itself exists, Mr. Dombey’s own life does not seem meaningless. He continues to follow the same path that is already familiar to him.

The money buys a second wife, aristocrat Edith Granger. The beautiful Edith should become an adornment to the company; her feelings are absolutely indifferent to her husband. For Dombey, Edith's attitude towards him is incomprehensible. Dombey is sure that you can buy humility, obedience, and devotion. Having acquired a wonderful “product” in the person of Edith and provided for her, Dombey believes that he has done everything necessary to create a normal family atmosphere. The thought of the need to establish normal human relationships does not even occur to him. Edith's internal conflict is incomprehensible to him, because all relationships, thoughts and feelings of people are accessible to his perception only to the extent that they can be measured with money. The power of money turns out to be far from omnipotent when Dombey collides with the proud and strong Edith. Her departure was able to shake Dombey’s confidence in the indestructibility of his power. The woman herself, whose inner world remained something unknown to her husband, is of no particular value to Dombey. Therefore, he experiences the escape of his wife quite calmly, although his pride is dealt a sensitive blow. It is after this that Dombey becomes almost hated by Florence, his selflessly loving daughter; her father is annoyed by her presence in the house, even by her very existence.

Almost from the very beginning of the novel, clouds hang over Dombey, which gradually thicken more and more, and the dramatic denouement is accelerated by Dombey himself, his “arrogance” in the author’s interpretation. The death of Paul, the flight of Florence, the departure of his second wife - all these blows that Dombey suffers end in bankruptcy, which is being prepared by Carker Jr. - his manager and confidant. Upon learning of the ruin that he owes to his attorney, Dombey experiences a real blow. It was the collapse of the company that was the last straw that destroyed the stony heart of its owner.

The novel Dombey and Son was conceived as a parable about a repentant sinner, but the work is not reduced to a story about how fate punishes Dombey and how he, having gone through the purgatory of remorse and torture of loneliness, finds happiness in the love of his daughter and grandchildren. The merchant Dombey is a typical figure for Victorian England, where the power of gold is growing and people who have achieved relative success in society consider themselves masters of life.

Dickens reveals and precisely establishes the nature of evil: money and private lust. Money gives rise to Mr. Dombey's class self-confidence, it gives him power over people and at the same time dooms him to loneliness, making him arrogant and withdrawn.

One of the greatest merits of Dickens as a realist is that he shows the essence of his contemporary society, which follows the path of technical progress, but to which such concepts as spirituality and compassion for the misfortunes of loved ones are alien. The psychological characteristics of the characters - primarily Dombey himself - in this novel by Dickens, compared to his previous works, become significantly more complex. After the collapse of his company, Dombey shows his best side. He pays off almost all of the company's debts, proving his nobility and integrity. This is probably the result of the internal struggle that he constantly wages with himself and which helps him to be reborn, or rather, to be reborn for a new life, not; lonely, not homeless, but full of human participation.

Florence was destined to play a significant role in Dombey's moral degeneration. Her perseverance and loyalty, love and mercy, compassion for the grief of others contributed to the return of her father’s favor and love to her. More precisely, thanks to her, Dombey discovered unspent vitality in himself, the ability to “make an effort,” but now - in the name of goodness and humanity.

At the end of the work, the author shows Dombey’s final rebirth into a caring father and grandfather, nursing Florence’s children and giving his daughter all the love that she was deprived of in childhood and adolescence. The author describes the changes taking place in inner world Dombey in such a way that they are not at all perceived as a fairy-tale transformation of the miser Scrooge. Everything that happens to Dombey is prepared by the course of events of the work. Dickens the artist harmoniously merges with Dickens the philosopher and humanist. He emphasizes that social position determines moral character Dombey, as well as circumstances, influence the change in his character.

“There is no sharp change in Mr. Dombey,” writes Dickens, “either in this book or in life. The feeling of his own injustice lives in him all the time. The more he suppresses it, the more injustice it becomes. Buried shame and external circumstances can cause the struggle to come to light within a week or a day; but this struggle lasted for years, and victory was not won easily.”

Obviously, one of the most important tasks that Dickens set himself when creating his novel was to show the possibility of moral regeneration of a person. Dombey's tragedy is a social tragedy, and it is performed in the Balzacian manner: the novel shows the relationship not only between man and society, but also between man and the material world. Telling about the collapse of the family and the ambitious hopes of Mr. Dombey, Dickens emphasizes that money carries evil, poisons the minds of people, enslaves them and turns them into heartless proud and selfish people. At the same time, the less society influences a person, the more humane and purer he becomes.

According to Dickens, such negative influences are especially painful for children. Depicting the process of formation of the Field, Dickens touches on the problem of upbringing and education, repeatedly raised in his works (“The Adventures of Oliver Twist”, “The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby”). Upbringing had a direct bearing on the fate of little Paul. It was intended to mold him into a new Dombey, to make the boy as tough and stern as his father. Staying at the boarding house of Mrs. Pipchin, whom the author calls “an excellent ogress,” and the school of Dr. Blimberg could not break the pure-hearted child. At the same time, by overloading Paul with excessive activities, unnecessary knowledge, forcing him to do things that are completely alien to his consciousness and completely not listening to the child’s inner state, the “false educators” essentially destroy him physically. Excessive stress completely undermines the boy's fragile health, leading to his death. The process of upbringing has an equally unfavorable effect on representatives of a child of a completely different social status - the son of a fireman Toodle. The son of kind and spiritually noble parents, sent by Mr. Dombey to study in the society of the Merciful Grinders, is completely corrupted, losing all the best traits instilled in him in the family.

As in Dickens's previous novels, numerous characters belonging to different social camps can be divided into "good" and "bad". At the same time, in the novel Dombey and Son there is no positive hero and a “villain” opposed to him. The polarization of good and evil in this work was carried out subtly and thoughtfully. Under Dickens's pen, the diversity of life no longer fit into the old scheme of the struggle between good and evil. Therefore, in this work the writer refuses excessive one-linearity and schematism in the depiction of the characters. Dickens strives to reveal not only the character of Mr. Dombey himself, but also the inner world of other characters in the novel (Edith, Miss Tox, Carker Sr., etc.) in their inherent psychological complexity.

The most complex figure in the novel is Karker Jr., a businessman and predator by nature. Carker seduces Alice Merwood, dreams of taking possession of Edith, and on his recommendation, Walter Gay is sent to the West Indies to certain death. Written in the style of grotesque, satirical exaggeration, the image of Karker cannot be considered socially typical. He appears before the reader as a predator grappling with another in a struggle for prey. But at the same time, his actions are not driven by a thirst for enrichment, as evidenced by the ending of the novel: having ruined Dombey, Carker himself does not appropriate anything from his patron’s fortune. He experiences great satisfaction watching Dombey's humiliation and the collapse of his entire personal and business life.

As Genieva E.Yu., one of the authors of “The History of World Literature” (vol. 6), rightly notes, “Carker’s rebellion against Dombey is very inconsistent... The true motives of Carker’s behavior are unclear. Apparently, we can assume that psychologically this is one of the first “underground people” in English literature, torn apart by the most complex internal contradictions.”

In his interpretation of Carker's "rebellion" against Dombey, Dickens remained faithful to the concept of social relationships that was already evident in Nicholas Nickleby. Both Dombey and Carker violate the norms of social behavior that Dickens considered correct. Both Dombey and Carker receive their due retribution: while Dombey fails as an entrepreneur and suffers the greatest humiliation, Carker receives his retribution by meeting death by accident, under the wheels of a speeding train.

The image of the railroad in this episode is not accidental. The express is this “fiery, roaring devil, so smoothly rushing into the distance,” an image of rushing life, rewarding some and punishing others, causing changes in people. It is no coincidence that the author emphasizes that in the last minutes of his life, looking at the sunrise, Karker touched virtue at least for a moment: “When he watched with dull eyes how it rose, clear and serene. Indifferent to those crimes and atrocities that, from the beginning of the world, were committed in the radiance of its rays, who would argue that at least a vague idea of ​​a virtuous life on earth and the reward for it in heaven did not awaken in him.” This is not moralizing, but a philosophy of life that the writer followed throughout his entire work.

It is from the standpoint of that philosophy that he considers not only the behavior of Carker, but also other characters. According to Dickens, evil is concentrated in those who are constantly hypocritical, humiliated, currying favor with their superiors (Miss Tox, Mrs. Skewton, Mrs. Chick, Joshua Bagstock, Mrs. Pipchin, etc.). Close to them stands the inhabitant of the London bottom - the “kind” Mrs. Brown, whose image clearly echoes the images of slum dwellers depicted in “The Adventures of Oliver Twist”. All these characters have their own position in life, which generally boils down to unconditional worship of the power of money and those who possess it.

The writer contrasted the inhumanity of Dombey, his manager Carker and their “like-minded people” with the spiritual greatness and true humanity of Florence and her friends - simple workers, the “little people” of London. This is the young man Walter Gay and his uncle, small shopkeeper Solomon Giles, Giles's friend - retired captain Cuttle, this is, finally, the family of the driver Toodle, the driver himself and his wife - Field's nurse, maid Florence Susan Nipper. Each of them individually and all of them together oppose Dombey’s world not only morally, but also socially, embodying the best qualities of ordinary people. These people live by laws opposite to money-grubbing. If Dombey is sure that everything in the world can be bought with money, these simple, modest workers are incorruptible and selfless. It is no coincidence that, speaking of the fireman Toodle, Dickens emphasizes that this worker is “the complete opposite in every respect to Mr. Dombey.”

The Toodle family is another variation on the Dickensian theme of family, in contrast to the Dombey family and the aristocratic family of the elderly "Cleopatra" - Mrs. Skewton. The healthy moral atmosphere of the Toodle family is emphasized appearance of its members (“a blooming young woman with a face like an apple,” “a younger woman, not so plump, but also with a face like an apple, who was leading two plump children with apple faces by the hands,” etc. .). Thus, Dickens emphasizes that what is normal and healthy is located outside the world of bourgeois businessmen, among ordinary people.

In scenes depicting Paul's illness and death, the author exalts the love of a simple woman - his nurse, Mrs. Toodle. Her suffering is the suffering of a simple and loving heart: “Yes, no one else would shed tears at the sight of him and call him a dear boy, her little boy, her poor, dear, exhausted child. No other woman would kneel down next to his bed, take his emaciated hand and press it to her lips and chest, like a person who has the right to caress her.”

The image of the child, Paul Dombey, presented as an ideal hero, is bright and expressive. Developing the traditions of Wordsworth, Dickens shows the peculiarities of the child's world, rebelling against treating children as small adults. The writer poeticized the world of childhood, conveyed the spontaneity and naivety with which a little person evaluates what is happening. Thanks to the image of Paul Dombey, the writer allows readers to look at everything around them through the eyes of a little “sage” who, with his “strange” and precisely targeted questions, puzzles adults. The boy allows himself to doubt even such unshakable values ​​of the adult world as money, irrefutably proving their powerlessness to save a person.

Among the characters depicted in the novel, the most controversial is the image of Dombey’s second wife, Edith. She grew up in a world where everything is bought and sold, and could not escape its corrupting influence. At first, her mother essentially sold her by marrying her to Granger. Later, with the blessing and assistance of Edith's mother, Mrs. Skewton, a deal is struck with Dombey. Edith is proud and arrogant, but at the same time she is “too humiliated and depressed to save herself.” Her nature combines arrogance and self-contempt, depression and rebellion, the desire to defend her own dignity and the desire to completely destroy her own life, thereby challenging the society she hates.

Dickens's artistic style in Dombey and Son continued to represent a combination of various artistic techniques and trends. However, humor and the comic element are pushed into the background here, appearing in the depiction of secondary characters. The main place in the novel begins to be occupied by an in-depth psychological analysis of the internal reasons for certain actions and experiences of the characters.

The writer's narrative style becomes significantly more complicated. It is enriched with new symbolism, interesting and subtle observations. The psychological characteristics of the characters become more complex, the functionality of speech characteristics, supplemented by facial expressions and gestures, expands, and the role of dialogues and monologues increases. The philosophical sound of the novel intensifies. It is associated with images of the ocean and the river of time flowing into it, running waves. The author conducts an interesting experiment with time - in the story about Paul, it either stretches or contracts, depending on the state of health and emotional mood of this little old man, who is solving far from childish issues.

When creating the novel Dombey and Son, Dickens worked more carefully on the language than before. In an effort to maximize the expressiveness of images and enhance their meaning, he resorted to a variety of techniques and rhythms of speech. In the most significant episodes, the writer’s speech acquires special tension and emotional richness.

The scene of Carker's escape after an explanation with Edith can be considered the highest achievement of Dickens as a psychologist. Carker, who defeated Dombey, unexpectedly finds himself rejected by her. His intrigues and deceit turned against him. His courage and self-confidence are crushed: “The proud woman cast him aside like a worm, lured him into a trap and showered him with ridicule, rebelled against him and cast him into the dust. He slowly poisoned the soul of this woman and hoped that he had turned her into a slave, submissive to all his desires. When, plotting a deception, he himself was deceived, and the fox skin was torn off from him, he slipped away, experiencing confusion, humiliation, and fear.” Carker's escape is reminiscent of Sikes's escape from The Adventures of Oliver Twist, but there was a lot of melodrama in the description of this scene. Here the author presents a huge variety of emotional states of the hero. Carker's thoughts are confused, the real and the imaginary are intertwined, the pace of the story quickens. It is like either a mad race on a horse or a fast ride on a railroad. Karker moves at a fantastic speed, so that even thoughts, replacing one another in his head, cannot get ahead of this race. The horror of being overtaken does not leave him day or night. Despite the fact that Karker sees everything happening around him, it seems to him that time is catching up with him. In conveying movement and its rhythm, Dickens uses repeated phrases: “Again the monotonous ringing, the ringing of bells and the clatter of hooves and wheels, and there is no rest.”

When describing positive characters, Dickens, as before, widely uses poetic means of humorous characterization: descriptions of appearance endowed with funny details, eccentric behavior, speech indicating their impracticality and simplicity (for example, Captain Cuttle peppers his speech with what he thinks is suitable occasion quotations).

At the same time, Dickens's skill as a caricaturist is improving: emphasizing the characteristic features of a particular character, he often uses the technique of the grotesque. Thus, the leitmotif of Karker’s image becomes a satirical detail - his shiny white teeth, which become a symbol of his predation and deceit: “A skull, a hyena, a cat together could not show as many teeth as Karker shows.” The author repeatedly emphasizes that this character, with his soft gait, sharp claws and insinuating gait, resembles a cat. The leitmotif of Dombey's image becomes freezing cold. Mrs. Skewton is likened to Cleopatra, reclining on the sofa and “languishing over a cup of coffee” and the room immersed in thick darkness, which is designed to hide her false hair, false teeth, and artificial blush. In describing her appearance, Dickens uses the keyword “false” as the key word. Major Bagstock's speech is dominated by the same expressions, characterizing him as a snob, a sycophant and a dishonest person.

The mastery of portraiture and psychological characterization is very high in Dombey and Son, and even the comic minor characters, having lost the grotesque and comic features characteristic of the heroes of the first period, are portrayed by the writer as people well known to readers who could be distinguished from the crowd.

Contrary to the idea of ​​class peace that Dickens preached in his Christmas stories of the 40s, in the novel written on the eve of the 1848 revolution, he objectively exposed and condemned bourgeois society. The general tone of the narrative in the novel turns out to be completely different than in previously created works. Dombey and Son is Dickens's first novel, devoid of the optimistic intonation that was so characteristic of the writer before. There is no place here for the boundless optimism that defined the character of Dickens's works. In the novel, for the first time, motives of doubt and vague but aching sadness were heard. The author was still convinced that his contemporaries needed to be influenced through persuasion. At the same time, he clearly feels that he is unable to overcome the idea of ​​the inviolability of the existing system of social relations, and cannot instill in others the idea of ​​the need to build their lives based on high moral principles.

The tragic solution to the main theme of the novel, reinforced by a number of additional lyrical motifs and intonations, makes the novel Dombey and Son a work of insoluble and unresolved conflicts. The emotional coloring of the entire figurative system speaks of a crisis that had matured in the minds of the great artist by the end of the 40s.

Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in a large chair by the bed, and the Son lay warmly wrapped up in a wicker cradle, carefully placed on a low couch in front of the fireplace and close to it, as if by nature he was similar to a muffin and needed to be thoroughly browned. as long as it's just baked.

Dombey was about forty-eight years old. My son is about forty-eight minutes old. Dombey was bald, reddish, and although he was a handsome, well-built man, he had too stern and pompous an appearance to be endearing. The son was very bald and very red and, although he was (of course) a lovely baby, he seemed slightly wrinkled and spotted. Time and his sister Care had left some traces on Dombey's brow, as on a tree that must be felled in due time - these twins are merciless, walking through their forests among mortals, making notches in passing - while the Son's face was carved up and down a thousand wrinkles, which the same treacherous Time will happily erase and smooth with the blunt edge of its scythe, preparing the surface for its deeper operations.

Dombey, rejoicing at the long-awaited event, jingled his massive gold watch chain, visible from under his immaculate blue frock coat, on which the buttons glittered phosphorescently in the dim rays falling from the distance from the fireplace. The son clenched his fists, as if he was threatening life with his weak strength for overtaking him so unexpectedly.

“Mrs. Dombey,” said Mr. Dombey, “the firm will again be not only in name, but in fact Dombey and Son.” Dombey and Son!

These words had such a pacifying effect that he added an endearing epithet to Mrs. Dombey's name (not without hesitation, however, for he was not accustomed to this form of address) and said: "Mrs. Dombey, my... my dear."

A momentary blush, caused by slight surprise, flooded the sick lady's face as she raised her eyes to him.

- At his baptism, of course, he will be given the name Paul, my... Mrs. Dombey.

She faintly responded, “Of course,” or rather, she whispered the word, barely moving her lips, and closed her eyes again.

- His father's name, Mrs Dombey, and his grandfather's! I wish his grandfather had lived to see this day!

And again he repeated “Dombey and Son” in exactly the same tone as before.

These three words contained the meaning of Mr Dombey's whole life. The earth was created for Dombey and the Son, so that they could conduct trade on it, and the sun and moon were created to illuminate them with their light... Rivers and seas were created for the navigation of their ships; the rainbow promised them good weather; the wind favored or opposed their enterprises; stars and planets moved in their orbits in order to preserve the indestructible system, in the center of which they were. The usual abbreviations took on a new meaning and applied only to them: A. D. did not at all mean anno Domini 1
In the summer [of the Nativity] of the Lord (lat.).

But it symbolized anno Dombei 2
In the summer [from Christmas] Dombey (lat.).

And the Son.

He rose, as his father had risen before him, by the law of life and death, from Son to Dombey, and for nearly twenty years was the sole representative of the firm.

Of these twenty years he was married for ten—married, as some said, to a lady who had not given her heart to him, to a lady whose happiness was a thing of the past, and who was content to force her broken spirit to reconcile, respectfully and submissively, with the present. Such idle rumors could hardly have reached Mr. Dombey, whom they closely concerned, and, perhaps, no one in the world would have treated them with more mistrust than he, if they had reached him. Dombey and Son often dealt with the skin, but never with the heart. They provided this fashionable product to boys and girls, boarding houses and books. Mr Dombey would have judged that a marriage with him must, in the nature of things, be agreeable and honorable to any woman of common sense; that the hope of giving birth to a new partner in such a firm cannot fail to awaken a sweet and exciting ambition in the breast of the least ambitious representative of the fairer sex; that Mrs Dombey signed the marriage contract - an act almost inevitable in families of the noble and wealthy, not to mention the need to preserve the name of the company - without turning a blind eye to these advantages; that Mrs. Dombey learned daily by experience what position he occupied in society; that Mrs. Dombey always sat at the head of his table, and performed the duties of a hostess in his house with great propriety and decorum; that Mrs Dombey should be happy; that it cannot be otherwise.

However, with one caveat. Yes. He was ready to accept it. With just one; but it undoubtedly contained a lot. They had been married for ten years, and up to this day, when Mr Dombey sat jingling his massive gold watch chain in the big chair by the bed, they had no issue... worth talking about, no one worth mentioning. About six years ago, their daughter was born, and now the girl, having sneaked into the bedroom unnoticed, timidly huddled in the corner, from where she could see her mother’s face. But what is a girl to Dombey and Son? In the capital that was the name and honor of the company, this child was a counterfeit coin that could not be invested in business - a boy good for nothing - and that’s all.

But at this moment Mr. Dombey's cup of joy was so full that he felt inclined to spare a drop or two of its contents even to sprinkle the dust on the abandoned path of his little daughter.

Therefore he said:

“Perhaps, Florence, you can, if you want, come up and look at your glorious brother.” Don't touch him.

The girl looked intently at the blue tailcoat and stiff white tie, which, together with a pair of creaking shoes and a very loud ticking clock, embodied her idea of ​​\u200b\u200bher father; but her eyes immediately turned again to her mother’s face, and she did not move or answer.

A second later the lady opened her eyes and saw the girl, and the girl rushed to her and, rising on tiptoe to hide her face in her chest, clung to her mother with a kind of passionate despair that was not at all characteristic of her age.

- Oh, my God! said Mr Dombey irritably, standing up. - Really, you are very unreasonable and rash. Perhaps we should ask Dr. Peps if he would be so kind as to come up here again. I'll go. I need not ask you,” he added, pausing for a moment near the couch in front of the fire, “to take special care of this young gentleman, Mrs.

- Blockit, sir? - suggested the nurse, a cloying, faded person with aristocratic manners, who did not dare to announce her name as an immutable fact and only named it in the form of a humble guess.

“About this young gentleman, Mrs. Blockit.”

- Yes, sure. I remember when Miss Florence was born...

“Yes, yes, yes,” said Mr Dombey, leaning over the wicker cradle and at the same time slightly knitting his eyebrows. “As for Miss Florence, that’s all very well, but now it’s a different matter.” This young gentleman has his destiny to fulfill. Appointment, little guy! - After such an unexpected address to the baby, he raised his hand to his lips and kissed it; then, apparently fearing that this gesture might belittle his dignity, he retired in some confusion.

Dr. Parker Peps, one of the court physicians, and a man of great repute for the assistance he rendered in the increase of aristocratic families, walked with his hands behind his back through the drawing-room, to the inexpressible admiration of the family physician, who had been haranguing among his patients and friends for the last month and a half and acquaintances about the upcoming event, on the occasion of which he expected from hour to hour, day and night, that he would be called together with Dr. Parker Peps.

“Well, sir,” said Dr. Parker Peps, in a low, deep, sonorous voice, muffled for the occasion, like a muffled door-knocker, “do you find that your visit has cheered up your dear wife?”

Mr Dombey was completely baffled by the question. He thought so little about the patient that he was unable to answer it. He said he would be pleased if Dr. Parker Peps would come up again.

- Wonderful. We must not hide from you, sir,” said Dr. Parker Peps, “that Her Grace the Duchess is showing some decline in strength... I beg your pardon, I am confusing the names... I meant to say - your dear wife. A certain weakness and general lack of cheerfulness is noticeable, which we would like... not...

“Observe,” the family doctor prompted, tilting his head again.

- That's it! - said Dr. Parker Peps. – Which we would prefer not to observe. It turns out that Lady Kenkeby's body... excuse me: I wanted to say - Mrs. Dombey, I'm confusing the names of the patients...

“So many,” whispered the family doctor, “really, one cannot expect... otherwise it would be a miracle... the practice of Dr. Parker Peps in the West End...”

“Thank you,” said the doctor, “that’s exactly it.” It turns out, I say, that our patient’s body has suffered a shock from which it can only recover with the help of intense and persistent...

“And energetic,” whispered the family doctor.

“That’s right,” agreed the doctor, “and energetic effort.” Mr. Pilkins, here present, who, occupying the position of medical consultant in this family - I have no doubt that there is no person more worthy to occupy this position ...

- ABOUT! - the family doctor whispered. – Praise to Sir Hubert Stanley! 3
That is sincere praise. Hubert Stanley- a character in a comedy by Thomas Morton (1764–1838).

“That’s very kind of you,” said Dr. Parker Peps. - Mr. Pilkins, who, thanks to his position, has an excellent knowledge of the patient’s body in its normal state (a knowledge very valuable for our conclusions under the circumstances), shares my opinion that in the present case nature must make an energetic effort and that if our charming friend, Countess Dombey - I'm sorry! - Mrs Dombey will not...

“Yes,” the family doctor suggested.

“To make the proper effort,” continued Dr. Parker Peps, “a crisis may ensue, which we will both sincerely regret.”

After that, they stood for several seconds with their eyes downcast. Then, at a silent sign from Dr. Parker Peps, they went upstairs, the house doctor opening the door for the famous specialist and following him with the most servile politeness.

To say that Mr Dombey was not in his own way saddened by this message would be to do him an injustice. He was not one of those of whom it could rightly be said that this man had ever been frightened or shocked; but he undoubtedly felt that if his wife fell ill and wasted away, he would be very upset and would discover, among his silverware, furniture and other household effects, the absence of a certain item that was very worth having and the loss of which could not but cause sincere regret. However, this would, of course, be a cold, businesslike, gentlemanly, restrained regret.

His thoughts on this topic were interrupted first by the rustle of a dress on the stairs, and then by the sudden burst into the room of a lady, more elderly than young, but dressed like a young one, especially judging by the tightly tightened corset, who, running up to him - something... that tenseness in her face and manners testified to restrained excitement, - she threw her arms around his neck and said, breathlessly:

- My dear Paul! He is the spitting image of Dombey!

- Well, well! - answered the brother, for Mr. Dombey was her brother. “I find that he really has a family touch.” Don't worry, Louise.

“It’s very stupid of me,” said Louisa, sitting down and taking out her handkerchief, “but he... he’s such a real Dombey!” I have never seen such a resemblance in my life!

– But what about Fanny herself? asked Mr Dombey. - What about Fanny?

“My dear Paul,” replied Louise, “absolutely nothing.” Believe me - absolutely nothing. There remained, of course, fatigue, but nothing like what I experienced with George or with Frederick. An effort must be made. That's all. Ah, if dear Fanny were Dombey... But I think she will make this effort; I have no doubt she will do it. Knowing that this is required of her in fulfillment of her duty, she, of course, will do it. My dear Paul, I know that it is very weak-willed and stupid of me to tremble and tremble from head to toe like that, but I feel so dizzy that I am forced to ask you for a glass of wine and a piece of that cake. I thought I would fall out of the window on the stairs when I went downstairs to visit dear Fanny and this wonderful angel. – Last words were caused by a sudden and vivid memory of the baby.

They were followed by a quiet knock on the door.

“Mrs. Chick,” said a mellifluous female voice behind the door, “dear friend, how are you feeling now?”

“My dear Paul,” said Louise quietly, getting up, “this is Miss Tox.” Kindest creation! Without her, I would never have been able to get here! Miss Tox is my brother, Mr Dombey. Paul, my dear, is my best friend, Miss Tox.

The lady so impressively presented was a lanky, thin and extremely faded person; it seemed that it had not been initially given what the textile merchants call “persistent dyes”, and little by little it faded. If it were not for this, she could be called the brightest example of courtesy and courtesy. From a long habit of enthusiastically listening to everything that was said in front of her, and looking at those who spoke as if she was mentally imprinting their images in her soul, so as not to part with them for the rest of her life, her head completely bowed to her shoulder. The hands acquired a convulsive habit of rising by themselves in unaccountable delight. The look was also enthusiastic. Her voice was the sweetest, and on her nose, monstrously aquiline, there was a bump in the very center of the bridge of the nose, from where the nose rushed down, as if having made an inviolable decision never, under any circumstances, to rise up.

Miss Tox's dress, quite elegant and decent, was, however, somewhat baggy and shabby. She used to decorate hats and caps with strange stunted flowers. Unknown herbs sometimes appeared in her hair; and it was noted by the curious that all her collars, frills, scarves, sleeves and other airy toilet accessories - in fact, all the things that she wore and which had two ends that were supposed to be connected - these two ends were never in good condition. agreement and did not want to come together without a fight. In winter she wore furs - capes, boas and muffs - on which the hair bristled uncontrollably and was never smoothed. She had a predilection for small reticules with clasps that, when snapped, fired like little pistols; and, dressed in a ceremonial dress, she put around her neck a pathetic medallion depicting an old fish eye, devoid of any expression. These and other similar traits contributed to the spread of rumors that Miss Tox, as they say, is a lady of limited means, in which she dodges in every possible way. Perhaps her manner of mincing her feet supported this opinion and suggested that the division of the usual step into two or three was explained by her habit of extracting the greatest advantage from everything.

“I assure you,” said Miss Tox, making a marvelous curtsey, “that the honor of being presented to Mr. Dombey is a reward for which I have long sought, but at the present moment did not expect it.” Dear Mrs. Chick... dare I call you Louise?

Mrs. Chick took Miss Tox by the hand, leaned her hand against her glass, swallowed a tear and said in a quiet voice:

– God bless you!

“My dear Louise,” said Miss Tox, “my dear friend, how do you feel now?”

“Better,” replied Mrs. Chick. -Drink some wine. You were almost as worried as I was, and undoubtedly need reinforcement.

Of course Mr Dombey fulfilled his duty as master of the house.

“Miss Tox, Paul,” continued Mrs. Chick, still holding her hand, “knowing with what impatience I was looking forward to today’s event, I prepared a small gift for Fanny, which I promised to give her.” Paul, it's just a pincushion for the dressing table, but I mean, I must say, and I will say, that Miss Tox has very nicely chosen a saying appropriate to the occasion. I find Welcome Little Dombey to be poetry itself!

- Is this a greeting? – inquired her brother.

- Oh yes, greetings! - Louise answered.

“But be fair to me, my dear Louisa,” said Miss Tox in a voice quiet and passionately pleading, “remember that only ... I find it somewhat difficult to express my thought ... only uncertainty in the outcome prompted me to allow myself such freedom.” “Welcome, little Dombey” would be more in keeping with my feelings, as you are sure of. But the uncertainty that accompanies these celestial visitors will, I hope, serve as an excuse for what would otherwise seem an unacceptable familiarity.

Miss Tox made the graceful bow intended for Mr. Dombey, to which that gentleman responded condescendingly. His admiration for Dombey and Son, even as it had been expressed in the previous conversation, was so pleasing to him that his sister, Mrs. Chick, although he was inclined to consider her particularly weak-willed and good-natured, could have had a greater influence on him than anyone else. whatever it was.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Chick with a gentle smile, “after this I forgive Fanny everything!”

It was a Christian statement, and Mrs. Chick felt that it relieved her soul. However, she did not need to forgive her daughter-in-law anything special, or rather, absolutely nothing, except that she married her brother - this in itself was a kind of insolence - and then gave birth to a girl instead of a boy - an act that, as Mrs. Chick often said, it did not quite meet her expectations and was by no means a worthy reward for all the attention and honor that had been shown to this woman.

As Mr Dombey was urgently called from the room, the two ladies were left alone. Miss Tox immediately showed a tendency to convulsive twitching.

“I knew you would admire my brother.” “I warned you in advance, my dear,” said Louise.

Miss Tox's hands and eyes showed how delighted she was.

- And as for his condition, my dear!

- Ah! - Miss Tox said with deep feeling.

- Colossal!

– And his ability to control himself, my dear Louise! - said Miss Tox. - His posture! His nobility! In my life I have not seen a single portrait that even half reflected these qualities. Something, you know, so majestic, so unyielding; such broad shoulders, such a straight waist! “The Duke of York of the commercial world, my dear, and that’s all,” said Miss Tox. - That's what I would call him!

– What’s the matter with you, my dear Paul? – exclaimed his sister when he returned. - How pale you are! Did something happen?

- Unfortunately, Louise, they told me that Fanny...

- ABOUT! My dear Paul,” his sister interrupted him, getting up, “don’t believe them!” If you rely in any way on my experience, Paul, you can rest assured that all is well, and nothing more than effort on Fanny’s part is required. And to this effort,” she continued, anxiously taking off her hat and busily adjusting her cap and gloves, “she should be encouraged and even, if necessary, forced. Now, my dear Paul, let's go upstairs together.

Mr Dombey, who, being under the influence of his sister for the reason already mentioned, really trusted her as an experienced and efficient matron, agreed and immediately followed her into the sick room.

His wife was still lying on the bed, clutching her little daughter to her chest. The girl clung to her as passionately as before, and did not raise her head, did not lift her tender cheek from her mother’s face, did not look at those around her, did not speak, did not move, did not cry.

“He’s worried without the girl,” the doctor whispered to Mr Dombey. “We felt it necessary to let her in again.”

It was so solemnly quiet at the bedside, and both doctors seemed to look at the motionless figure with such compassion and such hopelessness that Mrs. Chick was momentarily distracted from her intentions. But immediately, calling on her courage and what she called presence of mind, she sat down by the bed and said in a quiet, intelligible voice, as a person says when trying to wake up a sleeping person:

- Fanny! Fanny!

There was no answer, only the loud ticking of Mr. Dombey's watch and Dr. Parker Peps' watch, as if they were racing in the midst of dead silence.

“Fanny, my dear,” said Mrs. Chick in a mock cheerful tone, “Mr. Dombey has come to see you.” Would you like to talk to him? They are going to put your boy into your bed - your little one, Fanny, it seems you have hardly seen him; but this cannot be done until you are a little more cheerful. Don't you think it's time to cheer up a little? What?

She put her ear close to the bed and listened, at the same time looking around at those around her and raising a finger.

- What? – she repeated. -What did you say, Fanny? I didn't hear.

Not a word, not a sound in response. Mr Dombey's watch and Dr Parker Peps' watch seemed to run faster.

Charles Dickens

TRADING HOUSE DOMBY AND SON

Wholesale, retail and export trade

Preface to the first edition

I cannot miss the opportunity of bidding farewell to my readers in this place reserved for various kinds of greetings, although I want only one thing - to witness the boundless warmth and sincerity of their feelings at all stages of the journey we have just completed.

If any of them have experienced grief in encountering some of the major incidents of this fictional story, I hope that such grief will bring those who share it closer together. This is not selfless on my part. I claim that I have experienced it, at least as much as anyone else, and I would like to be remembered favorably for my participation in this experience.

Devonshire. March 24, 1848

Preface to the second edition

I take the liberty of believing that the ability (or habit) to observe human characters closely and carefully is a rare ability. Experience has even convinced me that the ability (or habit) to observe at least human faces is by no means universal. Two common errors in judgment that arise, in my opinion, from this deficiency are the confusion of two concepts - unsociability and arrogance, as well as a failure to understand that nature stubbornly wages an eternal struggle with itself.

There is no drastic change in Mr Dombey, either in this book or in life. The feeling of his own injustice lives in him all the time. The more he suppresses it, the more unfair it inevitably becomes. Buried shame and external circumstances can cause the struggle to come to light within a week or a day; but this struggle lasted for years, and victory was not won easily.

Years have passed since I parted with Mr Dombey. I was in no hurry to publish this critical note about him, but now I offer it with more confidence.

I began this book on the shores of Lake Geneva and worked on it for several months in France. The connection between the novel and the place where it was written is so engraved in my memory that even now, although I know every step in the Little Midshipman's house and could remember every pew in the church where Florence was married, and the bed of every young gentleman in the establishment of Dr. Blimber, but I vaguely imagine that Captain Cuttle is hiding from Mrs. McStinger in the mountains of Switzerland. In the same way, when sometimes something happens to remind me of what the waves were talking about, I imagine that I am wandering all winter night through the streets of Paris, as I actually wandered, with a heavy heart, that night when my little friend and I parted forever.

Dombey and son

Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in a large chair by the bed, and the Son lay warmly wrapped up in a wicker cradle, carefully placed on a low couch in front of the fireplace and close to it, as if by nature he was similar to a muffin and needed to be thoroughly browned. as long as it's just baked.

Dombey was about forty-eight years old. My son is about forty-eight minutes old. Dombey was bald, reddish, and although he was a handsome, well-built man, he had too stern and pompous an appearance to be endearing. The son was very bald and very red and, although he was (of course) a lovely baby, he seemed slightly wrinkled and spotted. Time and his sister Care had left some traces on Dombey's brow, as on a tree that must be cut down in due time - these twins are merciless, walking through their forests among mortals, making notches in passing - while the Son's face was carved up and down a thousand wrinkles, which the same treacherous Time will happily erase and smooth with the blunt edge of its scythe, preparing the surface for its deeper operations.

Dombey, rejoicing at the long-awaited event, jingled his massive gold watch chain, visible from under his immaculate blue frock coat, on which the buttons glittered phosphorescently in the dim rays falling from the distance from the fireplace. The son clenched his fists, as if he was threatening life with his weak strength for overtaking him so unexpectedly.

Mrs. Dombey, said Mr. Dombey, the firm will again be not only in name, but in fact Dombey and Son. Dombey and Son!

These words had such a pacifying effect that he added an endearing epithet to Mrs. Dombey's name (not without hesitation, however, for he was not accustomed to this form of address) and said: "Mrs. Dombey, my... my dear."

A momentary blush, caused by slight surprise, flooded the sick lady's face as she raised her eyes to him.

At his baptism, of course, he will be given the name Paul, my... Mrs. Dombey.

She faintly responded, “Of course,” or rather, she whispered the word, barely moving her lips, and closed her eyes again.

His father's name was Mrs Dombey, and his grandfather's! I wish his grandfather had lived to see this day!

And again he repeated “Dombey and Son” in exactly the same tone as before.

These three words contained the meaning of Mr Dombey's whole life. The earth was created for Dombey and the Son, so that they could conduct trade on it, and the sun and moon were created to illuminate them with their light... Rivers and seas were created for the navigation of their ships; the rainbow promised them good weather; the wind favored or opposed their enterprises; stars and planets moved in their orbits in order to preserve the indestructible system, in the center of which they were. The usual abbreviations took on a new meaning and applied only to them: A. D. did not at all mean anno Domini, but symbolized anno Dombei and the Son.

He rose, as his father had risen before him, by the law of life and death, from Son to Dombey, and for nearly twenty years was the sole representative of the firm. Of these twenty years he was married for ten—married, as some said, to a lady who had not given her heart to him, to a lady whose happiness was a thing of the past, and who was content to force her broken spirit to be reconciled, respectfully and submissively, with the present. Such idle rumors could hardly have reached Mr. Dombey, whom they closely concerned, and, perhaps, no one in the world would have treated them with more mistrust than he, if they had reached him. Dombey and Son often dealt with the skin, but never with the heart. They provided this fashionable product to boys and girls, boarding houses and books. Mr Dombey would have judged that a marriage with him must, in the nature of things, be agreeable and honorable to any woman of common sense; that the hope of giving birth to a new partner in such a firm cannot fail to awaken a sweet and exciting ambition in the breast of the least ambitious representative of the fairer sex; that Mrs Dombey signed the marriage contract - an act almost inevitable in families of the noble and wealthy, not to mention the need to preserve the name of the company - without turning a blind eye to these advantages; that Mrs. Dombey learned daily by experience what position he occupied in society; that Mrs. Dombey always sat at the head of his table, and performed the duties of a hostess in his house with great propriety and decorum; that Mrs Dombey should be happy; that it cannot be otherwise.

However, with one caveat. Yes. He was ready to accept it. With just one; but it undoubtedly contained a lot. They had been married for ten years, and up to this day, when Mr Dombey sat jingling his massive gold watch chain in the big chair by the bed, they had no issue... worth talking about, no one worth mentioning. About six years ago, their daughter was born, and now the girl, having sneaked into the bedroom unnoticed, timidly huddled in the corner, from where she could see her mother’s face. But what is a girl to Dombey and Son? In the capital, which was the name and honor of the company, this child was a counterfeit coin that could not be invested in business - a boy good for nothing - and that’s all.

Part one

Chapter I. Dombey and Son

Dombey was sitting in the corner of the closed room in large armchairs next to the bed, and his son, warmly wrapped up, lay in a wicker basket, carefully placed on the sofa, near the fireplace, in front of the fire.

Father Dombey was about forty-eight years old; for my son - about forty-eight minutes. Dombey was a little bald, a little red-haired, and generally a very stately and handsome man, although too stern and stately. The son was completely bald, completely red, a child, there is nothing to say, charming and cute, although a little flattened and with spots on his body. Time and his sister care - these merciless twins, indiscriminately devastating their human possessions - have already laid several fatal marks on Dombey's brow, as on a tree destined for felling; The son’s face was distorted with many small folds, but the insidious time, with the blunt side of its walking scythe, was preparing to level and smooth out a new field for itself in order to subsequently draw deep furrows along it.

Dombey, in the fullness of his spiritual pleasure, smugly rattled his gold watch chain, hanging from under his blue tailcoat, the buttons of which, in the weak rays of the lit fire, glowed with some kind of phosphorescent shine. The son lay in his cradle with his small fists raised, as if challenging the arbitrary fate that had given him an unexpected event.

“Our house from now on, Mrs. Dombey,” said Mr. Dombey, “not only in name, but in fact it will be again: Dombey and Son, Dombey and Son!”

And these words had such a calming effect on the mother in labor that Mr. Dombey, contrary to his habit, fell into a touching emotion and decided, although not without some hesitation, to add a tender word to his wife’s name: “Isn’t it true, Mrs.... my dear? "

A fleeting blush of faint amazement ran across the pale face of the sick woman, not accustomed to marital tenderness. She timidly raised her eyes to her husband.

We'll call him Pavel, my dear Mrs. Dombey, won't we?

The patient moved her lips as a sign of agreement and closed her eyes again.

This is the name of his father and grandfather,” continued Mr Dombey. - Oh, if only grandfather lived to see this day!

Here he paused a little and then repeated again: “Dommby and Son”!

These three words expressed the idea of ​​Mr Dombey's whole life. The earth was created for the trading operations of Dombey and Son. The sun and moon are intended to illuminate their affairs. The seas and rivers are commanded to carry their ships. The rainbow pledged to serve as a herald of beautiful weather. The stars and planets move in their orbits solely in order to properly maintain the system, the center of which was: Dombey and Son. Ordinary abbreviations in the English language acquired a special meaning in his eyes, expressing a direct relationship to the trading house of Dombey and Son. A. D. instead of Anno Domini (From the Nativity of Christ. Editor's note), Mr Dombey read Anno Dombey and Son.

Just as his father had previously risen from Son to Dombey on the path of life and death, so he was now the sole representative of the firm. He has been married for ten years now; his wife, as they said, did not bring a virgin heart as a dowry: the poor woman’s happiness lay in the past, and when she got married, she hoped to calm her torn soul with a meek and uncomplaining performance of harsh duties. However, this rumor never reached the ears of the self-satisfied husband, and, if it had, Mr. Dombey would never have believed the crazy and impudent gossip. Dombey and Son often traded in leather; but women’s hearts never entered into their commercial considerations. They left this fantastic product for boys and girls, boarding schools and books. Regarding married life, Mr. Dombey's ideas were of this kind: every decent and prudent woman should consider it her greatest honor to be married to such a special person as he, a representative of a famous company. The hope of producing a new member for such a house should incite the ambition of every woman, if she has any ambition. Mrs. Dombey, when concluding the marriage contract, fully understood all these benefits and then every day in reality could see her high importance in society. She always sat in the first place at the table and behaved as befits a noble lady. Therefore, Mrs. Dombey is completely happy. It cannot be otherwise.

But, reasoning in this way, Mr. Dombey readily agreed that for the completeness of family happiness, another very important condition was required. His married life had been going on for ten years now; but up to the present day, when Mr. Dombey sat majestically by the bed in the big armchairs, rattling his heavy gold chain, the tall couple had no children.

That is, it’s not that they didn’t have one at all: they have a child, but it’s not worth mentioning. This is a little girl of about six years old who stood invisible in the room, timidly huddled in a corner, from where she gazed intently at her mother’s face. But what is a girl to Dombey and Son? an insignificant coin in the huge capital of a trading house, a coin that cannot be put into circulation, and nothing more.

However, this time the cup of pleasure for Mr. Dombey was already too full, and he felt that he could spare two or three drops from it to sprinkle dust on his little daughter's path.

Come here, Florence,” said Fr. n, - and look at your brother if you want, but just don’t touch him.

The girl quickly glanced at her father’s blue tailcoat and white stand-up tie, but without saying a word, without making any movement, she again fixed her eyes on her mother’s pale face.

At that moment the patient opened her eyes and looked at her daughter. The child instantly rushed to her and, standing on tiptoes to better hide his face in her embrace, clung to her with such a desperate expression of love that could not be expected from this age.

Ah, Lord! - said Mr Dombey, hastily rising from his chair. - What a stupid, childish prank! I'd better go and call Dr. Peps. I'll go, I'll go. - Then, stopping by the sofa, he added: “I don’t need to ask you, m-s...”

Blokkit, sir,” suggested the nanny, a sweet, smiling figure.

So there is no need for me to ask you, Mrs. Blockkit, to take special care of this young gentleman.

Of course not, sir. I remember when Miss Florence was born...

Preface to the first edition

I cannot miss the opportunity of bidding farewell to my readers in this place reserved for various kinds of greetings, although I want only one thing - to witness the boundless warmth and sincerity of their feelings at all stages of the journey we have just completed.If any of them have experienced grief in encountering some of the major incidents of this fictional story, I hope that such grief will bring those who share it closer together. This is not selfless on my part. I claim that I have experienced it, at least as much as anyone else, and I would like to be remembered favorably for my participation in this experience.Devonshire. March 24, 1848

Preface to the second edition

I take the liberty of believing that the ability (or habit) to observe human characters closely and carefully is a rare ability. Experience has even convinced me that the ability (or habit) to observe at least human faces is by no means universal. Two common errors in judgment that arise, in my opinion, from this deficiency are the confusion of two concepts - unsociability and arrogance, as well as a failure to understand that nature stubbornly wages an eternal struggle with itself.There is no drastic change in Mr Dombey, either in this book or in life. The feeling of his own injustice lives in him all the time. The more he suppresses it, the more unfair it inevitably becomes. Buried shame and external circumstances can cause the struggle to come to light within a week or a day; but this struggle lasted for years, and victory was not won easily.Years have passed since I parted with Mr Dombey. I was in no hurry to publish this critical note about him, but now I offer it with more confidence.I began this book on the shores of Lake Geneva and worked on it for several months in France. The connection between the novel and the place where it was written is so engraved in my memory that even now, although I know every step in the Little Midshipman's house and could remember every pew in the church where Florence was married, and the bed of every young gentleman in the establishment of Dr. Blimber, but I vaguely imagine that Captain Cuttle is hiding from Mrs. McStinger in the mountains of Switzerland. In the same way, when sometimes something happens to remind me of what the waves were talking about, I imagine that I am wandering all winter night through the streets of Paris, as I actually wandered, with a heavy heart, that night when my little friend and I parted forever.

Chapter I

Dombey and son

Dombey sat in the corner of the darkened room in a large chair by the bed, and the Son lay warmly wrapped up in a wicker cradle, carefully placed on a low couch in front of the fireplace and close to it, as if by nature he was similar to a muffin and needed to be thoroughly browned. as long as it's just baked.Dombey was about forty-eight years old. My son is about forty-eight minutes old. Dombey was bald, reddish, and although he was a handsome, well-built man, he had too stern and pompous an appearance to be endearing. The son was very bald and very red and, although he was (of course) a lovely baby, he seemed slightly wrinkled and spotted. Time and his sister Care had left some traces on Dombey's brow, as on a tree that must be cut down in due time - these twins are merciless, walking through their forests among mortals, making notches in passing - while the Son's face was carved up and down a thousand wrinkles, which the same treacherous Time will happily erase and smooth with the blunt edge of its scythe, preparing the surface for its deeper operations.Dombey, rejoicing at the long-awaited event, jingled his massive gold watch chain, visible from under his immaculate blue frock coat, on which the buttons glittered phosphorescently in the dim rays falling from the distance from the fireplace. The son clenched his fists, as if he was threatening life with his weak strength for overtaking him so unexpectedly.“Mrs. Dombey,” said Mr. Dombey, “the firm will again be not only in name, but in fact Dombey and Son.” Dombey and Son!These words had such a pacifying effect that he added an endearing epithet to Mrs. Dombey's name (not without hesitation, however, for he was not accustomed to this form of address) and said: "Mrs. Dombey, my... my dear."A momentary blush, caused by slight surprise, flooded the sick lady's face as she raised her eyes to him.- At his baptism, of course, he will be given the name Paul, my... Mrs. Dombey.She faintly responded, “Of course,” or rather, she whispered the word, barely moving her lips, and closed her eyes again.- The name of his father, Mrs Dombey, and his grandfather! I wish his grandfather had lived to see this day!And again he repeated “Dombey and Son” in exactly the same tone as before.These three words contained the meaning of Mr Dombey's whole life. The earth was created for Dombey and the Son, so that they could conduct trade on it, and the sun and moon were created to illuminate them with their light... Rivers and seas were created for the navigation of their ships; the rainbow promised them good weather; the wind favored or opposed their enterprises; stars and planets moved in their orbits in order to preserve the indestructible system, in the center of which they were. The usual abbreviations took on a new meaning and applied only to them: A. D. did not at all mean anno Domini, but symbolized anno Dombei and the Son.He rose, as his father had risen before him, by the law of life and death, from Son to Dombey, and for nearly twenty years was the sole representative of the firm. Of these twenty years he was married for ten—married, as some said, to a lady who had not given her heart to him, to a lady whose happiness was a thing of the past, and who was content to force her broken spirit to be reconciled, respectfully and submissively, with the present. Such idle rumors could hardly have reached Mr. Dombey, whom they closely concerned, and, perhaps, no one in the world would have treated them with more mistrust than he, if they had reached him. Dombey and Son often dealt with the skin, but never with the heart. They provided this fashionable product to boys and girls, boarding houses and books. Mr Dombey would have judged that a marriage with him must, in the nature of things, be agreeable and honorable to any woman of common sense; that the hope of giving birth to a new partner in such a firm cannot fail to awaken a sweet and exciting ambition in the breast of the least ambitious representative of the fairer sex; that Mrs Dombey signed the marriage contract - an act almost inevitable in families of the noble and wealthy, not to mention the need to preserve the name of the company - without turning a blind eye to these advantages; that Mrs. Dombey learned daily by experience what position he occupied in society; that Mrs. Dombey always sat at the head of his table, and performed the duties of a hostess in his house with great propriety and decorum; that Mrs Dombey should be happy; that it cannot be otherwise.However, with one caveat. Yes. He was ready to accept it. With just one; but it undoubtedly contained a lot. They had been married for ten years, and up to this day, when Mr Dombey sat jingling his massive gold watch chain in the big chair by the bed, they had no issue... worth talking about, no one worth mentioning. About six years ago, their daughter was born, and now the girl, having sneaked into the bedroom unnoticed, timidly huddled in the corner, from where she could see her mother’s face. But what is a girl to Dombey and Son? In the capital, which was the name and honor of the company, this child was a counterfeit coin that could not be invested in business - a boy good for nothing - and that’s all.But at this moment Mr. Dombey's cup of joy was so full that he felt inclined to spare a drop or two of its contents even to sprinkle the dust on the abandoned path of his little daughter.Therefore he said:“Perhaps, Florence, you can, if you want, come up and look at your glorious brother.” Don't touch him.The girl looked intently at the blue tailcoat and stiff white tie, which, together with a pair of creaking shoes and a very loud ticking clock, embodied her idea of ​​\u200b\u200bher father; but her eyes immediately turned again to her mother’s face, and she did not move or answer.A second later the lady opened her eyes and saw the girl, and the girl rushed to her and, rising on tiptoe to hide her face in her chest, clung to her mother with a kind of passionate despair that was not at all characteristic of her age.- Oh, my God! said Mr Dombey irritably, standing up. - Really, you are very unreasonable and rash. Perhaps we should ask Dr. Peps if he would be so kind as to come up here again. I'll go. I need not ask you,” he added, pausing for a moment near the couch in front of the fire, “to take special care of this young gentleman, Mrs.- Blockit, sir? - suggested the nurse, a cloying, faded person with aristocratic manners, who did not dare to announce her name as an immutable fact and only named it in the form of a humble guess.- About this young gentleman, Mrs. Blockit.- Yes, of course, sir. I remember when Miss Florence was born...“Yes, yes, yes,” said Mr Dombey, leaning over the wicker cradle and at the same time slightly knitting his eyebrows. “As for Miss Florence, that’s all fine, but now it’s a different matter.” This young gentleman has his destiny to fulfill. Appointment, little guy! - After such an unexpected address to the baby, he raised his hand to his lips and kissed it; then, apparently fearing that this gesture might belittle his dignity, he retired in some confusion.Dr. Parker Peps, one of the court physicians, and a man of great repute for the assistance he rendered in the increase of aristocratic families, walked with his hands behind his back through the drawing-room, to the inexpressible admiration of the family physician, who had been haranguing among his patients and friends for the last month and a half and acquaintances about the upcoming event, on the occasion of which he expected from hour to hour, day and night, that he would be called together with Dr. Parker Pence.“Well, sir,” said Dr. Parker Peps, in a low, deep, sonorous voice, muffled for the occasion, like a muffled door-knocker, “do you find that your visit has cheered up your dear wife?”“So to speak, it stimulated,” the family doctor quietly added, bowing at the same time to the doctor and as if saying: “Forgive me for inserting a word, but this is a valuable addition.”Mr Dombey was completely baffled by the question. He thought so little about the patient that he was unable to answer it. He said he would be pleased if Dr. Parker Peps would come up again.- Wonderful. We must not hide from you, sir,” said Dr. Parker Peps, “that Her Grace the Duchess is showing some decline in strength... I beg your pardon: I’m confusing the names... I meant to say - your dear wife.” A certain weakness and general lack of cheerfulness is noticeable, which we would like... not...“Observe,” suggested the family doctor, tilting his head again.- That's it! - said Dr. Parker Peps. - Which we would prefer not to observe. It turns out that Lady Kenkeby's body... excuse me: I wanted to say - Mrs. Dombey, I'm confusing the names of the patients...“So many,” whispered the family doctor, “really, one cannot expect ... otherwise it would be a miracle ... the practice of Dr. Parker Peps in the West End ...“Thank you,” said the doctor, “that’s exactly it.” It turns out, I say, that our patient’s body has suffered a shock from which it can only recover with the help of intense and persistent...“And energetic,” whispered the family doctor.“That’s it,” the doctor agreed, “and energetic effort.” Mr. Pilkins, here present, who, occupying the position of medical consultant in this family - I have no doubt that there is no person more worthy to occupy this position ...- ABOUT! - the family doctor whispered. - Praise to Sir Hubert Stanley!“That’s very kind of you,” said Dr. Parker Pence. - Mr. Pilkins, who, thanks to his position, has an excellent knowledge of the patient's body in its normal state (a knowledge very valuable for our conclusions under the circumstances), shares my opinion that in the present case nature must make an energetic effort and that if our charming friend, Countess Dombey - I'm sorry! - Mrs Dombey will not...“Yes,” the family doctor suggested.“To make the proper effort,” continued Dr. Parker Peps, “a crisis may ensue, which we will both sincerely regret.”After that, they stood for several seconds with their eyes downcast. Then, at a silent sign from Dr. Parker Pence, they went upstairs, the house doctor opening the door for the famous specialist and following him with the most servile politeness.To say that Mr Dombey was not in his own way saddened by this message would be to do him an injustice. He was not one of those of whom it could rightly be said that this man had ever been frightened or shocked; but undoubtedly he felt that if his wife fell ill and wasted away, he would be very upset and would discover, among his silverware, furniture and other household goods, the absence of a certain item that was very worth having and the loss of which could not but cause sincere regret. However, this would, of course, be a cold, businesslike, gentlemanly, restrained regret.His thoughts on this topic were interrupted first by the rustle of a dress on the stairs, and then by the sudden burst into the room of a lady, more elderly than young, but dressed like a young one, especially judging by the tightly tightened corset, who, running up to him - something... that tenseness in her face and manners testified to restrained excitement, - she threw her arms around his neck and said, breathlessly:- My dear Paul! He is the spitting image of Dombey!- Well, well! - answered the brother, for Mr. Dombey was her brother. - I find that he really has family traits. Don't worry, Louise.“It’s very stupid of me,” said Louisa, sitting down and taking out her handkerchief, “but he... he’s such a real Dombey!” I have never seen such a resemblance in my life!- But what about Fanny herself? - asked Mr Dombey. - with Fanny?“My dear Paul,” responded Louise, “absolutely nothing.” Believe me - absolutely nothing. There remained, of course, fatigue, but nothing like what I experienced with George or with Frederick. An effort must be made. That's all. Ah, if dear Fanny were Dombey... But I think she will make this effort; I have no doubt she will do it. Knowing that this is required of her in fulfillment of her duty, she, of course, will do it. My dear Paul, I know that it is very weak-willed and stupid of me to tremble and tremble from head to toe like that, but I feel so dizzy that I am forced to ask you for a glass of wine and a piece of that cake. I thought I would fall out of the window on the stairs when I went downstairs to visit dear Fanny and this wonderful angel. - The last words were caused by a sudden and vivid memory of the baby.They were followed by a quiet knock on the door.“Mrs. Chick,” said a mellifluous female voice behind the door, “dear friend, how are you feeling now?”“My dear Paul,” said Louise quietly, getting up, “this is Miss Tox.” Kindest creation! Without her, I would never have been able to get here! Miss Tox is my brother, Mr Dombey. Paul, my dear, is my best friend, Miss Tox.The lady so impressively presented was a lanky, thin and extremely faded person; it seemed that it had not been initially given what the textile merchants call “persistent dyes”, and little by little it faded. If it were not for this, she could be called the brightest example of courtesy and courtesy. From a long habit of enthusiastically listening to everything that was said in front of her, and looking at those who spoke as if she was mentally imprinting their images in her soul, so as not to part with them for the rest of her life, her head completely bowed to her shoulder. The hands acquired a convulsive habit of rising by themselves in unaccountable delight. The look was also enthusiastic. Her voice was the sweetest, and on her nose, monstrously aquiline, there was a bump in the very center of the bridge of the nose, from where the nose rushed down, as if having made an inviolable decision never, under any circumstances, to rise up.Miss Tox's dress, quite elegant and decent, was, however, somewhat baggy and shabby. She used to decorate hats and caps with strange stunted flowers. Unknown herbs sometimes appeared in her hair; and it was noted by the curious that all her collars, frills, scarves, sleeves and other airy toilet accessories - in fact, all the things that she wore and which had two ends that were supposed to be connected - these two ends were never in good condition. agreement and did not want to come together without a fight. In winter she wore furs - capes, boas and muffs - on which the hair bristled uncontrollably and was never smoothed. She had a predilection for small reticules with clasps that, when snapped, fired like little pistols; and, dressed in a ceremonial dress, she put around her neck a pathetic medallion depicting an old fish eye, devoid of any expression. These and other similar traits contributed to the spread of rumors that Miss Tox, as they say, is a lady of limited means, in which she dodges in every possible way. Perhaps her manner of mincing her feet supported this opinion and suggested that the division of the usual step into two or three was explained by her habit of extracting the greatest advantage from everything.“I assure you,” said Miss Tox, making a marvelous curtsy, “that the honor of being presented to Mr. Dombey is a reward which I have long sought, but which at the present moment I did not expect.” Dear Mrs. Chick... dare I call you Louise?Mrs. Chick took Miss Tox by the hand, leaned her hand against her glass, swallowed a tear and said in a quiet voice:- God bless you!“My dear Louise,” said Miss Tox, “my dear friend, how do you feel now?”“Better,” answered Mrs. Chick. -Drink some wine. You were almost as worried as I was, and undoubtedly need reinforcement.Of course Mr Dombey fulfilled his duty as master of the house.“Miss Tox, Paul,” continued Mrs. Chick, still holding her hand, “knowing with what impatience I was looking forward to today’s event, I prepared a small gift for Fanny, which I promised to give her.” Paul, it's just a pincushion for the dressing table, but I mean, I must say, and I will say, that Miss Tox has very kindly found a saying appropriate to the occasion. I find "Welcome Little Dombey" to be poetry itself!- Is this a greeting? - inquired her brother.- Oh yes, greetings! - Louise answered.“But be fair to me, my dear Louise,” said Miss Tox in a voice quiet and passionately pleading, “remember that only ... I find it somewhat difficult to express my thought ... only the uncertainty of the outcome prompted me to allow myself such freedom.” “Welcome, little Dombey” would be more in keeping with my feelings, as you are sure of. But the uncertainty that accompanies these celestial visitors will, I hope, serve as an excuse for what would otherwise seem an unacceptable familiarity.Miss Tox made the graceful bow intended for Mr. Dombey, to which that gentleman responded condescendingly. His admiration for Dombey and Son, even as it had been expressed in the previous conversation, was so pleasing to him that his sister, Mrs. Chick, although he was inclined to consider her particularly weak-willed and good-natured, could have had a greater influence on him than anyone else. whatever it was.“Yes,” said Mrs. Chick with a gentle smile, “after this I forgive Fanny everything!”It was a Christian statement, and Mrs. Chick felt that it relieved her soul. However, she did not need to forgive her daughter-in-law anything special, or, rather, absolutely nothing, except that she married her brother - this in itself was a kind of insolence - and then gave birth to a girl instead of a boy - an act that , as Mrs. Chick often said, did not quite meet her expectations and was by no means a worthy reward for all the attention and honor that had been shown to this woman.As Mr Dombey was urgently called from the room, the two ladies were left alone. Miss Tox immediately showed a tendency to convulsive twitching.- I knew that you would admire my brother. “I warned you in advance, my dear,” said Louise.Miss Tox's hands and eyes showed how delighted she was.- And as for his condition, my dear!- Ah! - Miss Tox said with deep feeling.- Colossal! - And his ability to control himself, my dear Louise! - said Miss Tox. - His posture! His nobility! In my life I have not seen a single portrait that even half reflected these qualities. Something, you know, so majestic, so unyielding; such broad shoulders, such a straight waist! “The Duke of York of the commercial world, my dear, and that’s all,” said Miss Tox. - That's what I would call him!- What's the matter with you, my dear Paul? - exclaimed his sister when he returned. - How pale you are! Did something happen?- Unfortunately, Louise, they told me that Fanny...- ABOUT! My dear Paul,” his sister interrupted him, getting up, “don’t believe them!” If you rely in any way on my experience, Paul, you can rest assured that all is well, and nothing more than effort on Fanny’s part is required. And to this effort,” she continued, anxiously taking off her hat and busily adjusting her cap and gloves, “she should be encouraged and even, if necessary, forced. Now, my dear Paul, let's go upstairs together.Mr Dombey, who, being under the influence of his sister for the reason already mentioned, really trusted her as an experienced and efficient matron, agreed and immediately followed her into the sick room.His wife was still lying on the bed, clutching her little daughter to her chest. The girl clung to her as passionately as before, and did not raise her head, did not lift her tender cheek from her mother’s face, did not look at those around her, did not speak, did not move, did not cry.“He’s worried without the girl,” the doctor whispered to Mr Dombey. “We felt it necessary to let her in again.”It was so solemnly quiet at the bedside, and both doctors seemed to look at the motionless figure with such compassion and such hopelessness that Mrs. Chick was momentarily distracted from her intentions. But immediately, calling on her courage and what she called presence of mind, she sat down by the bed and said in a quiet, intelligible voice, as a person says when trying to wake up a sleeping person:- Fanny! Fanny! There was no answer, only the loud ticking of Mr. Dombey's watch and Dr. Parker Pence's watch, as if they were racing in the midst of dead silence.“Fanny, my dear,” said Mrs. Chick in a mock cheerful tone, “Mr. Dombey has come to see you.” Would you like to talk to him? They are going to put your boy in your bed - your little one, Fanny, it seems you have hardly seen him; but this cannot be done until you are a little more cheerful. Don't you think it's time to cheer up a little? What?She put her ear close to the bed and listened, at the same time looking around at those around her and raising a finger.- What? - she repeated. - What did you say, Fanny? I didn't hear.Not a word, not a sound in response. Mr Dombey's watch and Dr Parker Pence's watch seemed to run faster.“Really, Fanny, my dear,” said my sister-in-law, changing her position and, against her will, speaking less confidently and more seriously, “I will have to be angry with you if you don’t cheer up.” It is necessary that you make an effort - perhaps a very intense and painful effort, which you are not inclined to make, but you know, Fanny, everything in this world requires effort, and we should not give in when so much depends on us. Come on! Try it! Really, I’ll have to scold you if you don’t do this!In the silence that descended, the race became frantic and fierce. The clocks seemed to fly into each other and trip each other up.- Fanny! - Louise continued, looking around with growing alarm. - Just look at me. Just open your eyes to show that you hear and understand me; Fine? My God, what should we do, gentlemen?The two doctors, standing on both sides of the bed, exchanged glances, and the house doctor leaned over and whispered something in the girl’s ear. Not understanding the meaning of his words, the little one turned her deathly pale face with deep dark eyes towards him, but did not release her embrace. Whisper again. - Mother! - said the girl.A child's voice, familiar and dearly loved, caused a glimmer of consciousness that was already fading. For a moment, the lowered eyelids fluttered, the nostrils fluttered, and a faint shadow of a smile flashed.- Mother! - the girl exclaimed, sobbing. - Oh mommy, mommy!The doctor gently pulled the child's loose curls away from the mother's face and lips. Alas, they lay motionless - the breath was too weak to move them.So, holding tightly to this fragile reed clinging to her, the mother swam away into the dark and unknown ocean that washes the whole world.