LONDON. Michaelmas term lately over, and the Lord Chancellor sitting in Lincoln’s Inn Hall. Implacable November weather. As much mud in the streets, as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of the earth, and it would not be wonderful to meet a Megalosaurus, forty feet long or so, waddling like an elephantine lizard up Holborn Hill. Smoke lowering down from chimney-pots, making a soft black drizzle with flakes of soot in it as big as full-grown snowflakes - gone into mourning, one might imagine, for the death of the sun. Dogs, undistinguishable in mire. Horses, scarcely better; splashed to their very blinkers. Foot passengers, jostling one another’s umbrellas, in a general infection of ill-temper, and losing their foot hold at street-corners, where tens of thousands of other foot passengers have been slipping and sliding since the day broke (if this day ever broke), adding new deposits to the crust upon crust of mud, sticking at those points tenaciously to the pavement, and accumulating at compound interest.
Are you able to visualize what is happening in this passage?
This is from Bleak House by Charles Dickens, if you are curious.
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Random question -what’s your favorite book? I’m really vibing with your interpretation here.
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Also yes.
Yes. But I van imagine my children being clueless. English is our third language but I think that’s not the issue. They just haven’t read enough. They are consumers and aren’t accustomed to active reading.
The absolute best strategy for most reading comprehension struggles is read aloud. Active discussion is good too.
Or I also like to tell my high schoolers to be contrarian with the text. To argue against it, to try to prove it wrong, even to the point of bad faith. “You’re saying the book sucks - I want receipts. Tell me about it.” I don’t really have training in teaching english but I will happily pressure high schoolers into reading the books in English class.
Yeah, the real struggle my kids deal with is dyslexia. But I know that even a dyslexic van be bitten by the reading virus so I still have hope.
I knew I have read it before somewhere.
Well, like every craft, skills develop over time. What was a blacksmith hundreds of years ago is now a CNC operator. Likewise, writing styles have evolved over time.
Yes, he has been a great storyteller, and his stories and characters stood the test of time, but his writing style did not.
Fed up people are struggling to walk, slipping and bumping into each other in a gloomy, wet, grey, smokey, dreary, sunless, muddy street in November in Dickensian London. Everything is caked in filth. Then someone swallowed a Thesaurus, ate a couple of mushrooms and tried to describe the scene.
This is something we would have been asked to read and analyze in grade 8
I can read it, but for some reason I read it like a screenplay being read about some old-timey detective story.
Yes, i started drifting away twice and had to think a moment a couple more times but im not a native english speaker so im fine with that.
yea and I don’t like how its written
I didn’t recognize the source and thought to myself this is either archaic or amateur. It feels purple by modern standards.
I have aphantasia so I can’t visualize much of anything. But I did understand the passage.
I read a lot of fictionalized historical diaries as a kid (i.e., diary entries written from the POV of a fictional character living during important historical events) because they were given to me as gifts and the writing style is somewhat similar, though not as creative with imagery as Dickens.
What does understanding mean for you in this sense?
I don’t mean to come across as ignorant or disrespectful - just curious. A big part of my understanding of that passage is the process of visualization. When I read that passage, I feel it. It’s wet, it’s filthy, everyone is upset and I imagine faces scowling. That’s what “understanding” means to me as a process.
I sort of just try to contextualize the words and their meaning and draw upon my experiences to fill in the blanks. I still have other senses and my own mental concept of things and how they fit together. I can imagine “faces scowling” or a muddy street and how that affects the story and its setting, just not visually.
I will often infer the emotions of a scene and place myself within that context, since I usually am drawn to more character-driven experiences. I know what a room will look like based on the description, I just can’t hold an image of it in my mind.
I should also note that there are levels of aphantasia and everyone is different. I kind of have a little bit of visualization, but not much. Like limbs moving, some motions, etc. kind of like stick figures that can barely move. It doesn’t allow me to “see” things with any detail, and if I were to try to visualize (for example) a golfer taking a swing, the swing gets to the ball and then stops. There’s no physics applied to it.
I actually joined a psychological study in undergrad, because it was mandatory to do some, that was about visualizing and that’s how I discovered that I have aphantasia. They asked me to visualize and describe certain things and I was like, “I can’t” for basically every question. The researcher’s face was sort of priceless, lol.
because it was mandatory to do some
Usually understood to be a violation of ethics if they didn’t provide you the opportunity for an alternative assignment btw.
Thanks for the explanation. It’s very interesting to learn about how others perceive the world.
Yeah, there totally were alternatives, but they were like, writing a 20-page paper or presenting a topic directly to the professor during her office hours.
It seemed like more of a time-save for me and a boon to the researchers to just do some studies. I think it was only 5-10 and it was really simple to sign up.
Sure—but I grew up reading a lot of 19th-century literature.
Kind of, “It was very muddy in London” but nobody talks like this today, so it sounds very strange. I’m personally not a fan. I don’t think there’s a complete sentence anywhere in that passage.
Sentence fragments, capitalized and punctuated like fresh immigrants assimilating to their new mother.
Nabokov seemed to think that the fog was important. I guess it’s a novel about a legal case, and maybe the metaphor is the “fog” of legal confusion.
Nabokov? You mean that guy from The Police song?
Hey - don’t stand so close to me.
Nabokov is fun, because he had an opinion on basically every author ever. If you feel frustrated about something you read in an English class, you can probably find an essay by Nabokov reading that author to filth.
Like c’mon man - if you don’t feel something reading the Grand Inquisitor passage in Karamazov - are you human?
Yes, but it’s really cumbersome to us foreigners.
Tl;dr the weather sucked. Everything was muddy and covered in soot.
