When cast down, and driven to outer dark regions of soul, where the sight of the true, beautiful, and good recedes like a faded sun, I find myself in need of writers who make me laugh at human folly and who seem to believe that reason and goodness will prevail–that human folly, man’s fallenness, and rivers of vapid assertions, will ultimately fall away and be revealed for what they are.

I return once more to Charles Dickens’ characters, where in his fictional universe of Pumblechook, David Copperfield, Pip, Scrooge, Charles Darnay, Estella, Sydney Carton, Miss Havisham, and many many more, the reader discovers folly to be sure, but also redemption, laughter, and hope.

The reader rediscovers hope, yes, and finds a world wherein sanity prevails, where children are to be protected rather than preyed upon, where the Oliver Twists are redeemed rather than reduced to endlessly pickpocketing as street urchins.

As I complete my reading of this wonderful biography of Dickens, I salute you, Charles Dickens. I have read your works for decades now. You’ve been dead for 154 years, but your words live on. Your characters live on. And you remain dear to those of us blessed by your word-rich, jolly, effervescent literary universe.