When
Charles Dickens died on June 9 1870, newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic
framed his loss as an event of national and international mourning. They pointed to the
fictional characters Dickens had created as a key part of his artistic legacy,
writing how “we have laughed with Sam Weller, with Mrs. Nickleby, with Sairey
Gamp, with Micawber”. Dickens himself had already featured as the subject of
one piece of short biographical
fiction published during his lifetime. Yet, in the years
following his death, he would be increasingly appropriated as a fictional
character by the Victorians, both in published texts and in privately
circulated fan works.
Dickens’s private family
funeral at Westminster Abbey created a gap in knowledge which
some journalists chose to fill with a fictional scene they considered more
emotionally satisfying. The London Penny Illustrated Paper visually re-imagined
the funeral, publishing a large illustration depicting a crowded public event.
Under the sub-heading: “A
National Honour Due to Charles Dickens”, the accompanying text acknowledges
that the image is fictional, but argues that:
A ceremony such as is depicted in our
Engraving would unquestionably have best represented the national feeling of
mourning occasioned by the lamented death.
It was the publication of
John Forster’s Life of Charles Dickens in 1872–74, though, that marked a
watershed in fictionalisations of Dickens. Victorian readers now had a
full-length birth-to-death Dickens biography to draw on, written by a
friend who had known him for his entire adulthood.
Dickens’s Preface to
his 1849–50 novel David
Copperfield had encouraged readers to interpret it as
semi-autobiographical. However, it was only with Forster’s biography that
the full extent of
the similarities between Dickens and the fictional Copperfield was made public.
The revelation that
Dickens had performed child labour in a blacking warehouse when his father was
imprisoned for debt, before rising to international fame in his twenties, gave
him a life story that the press
described as rivalling Dickens’s “most popular novel”.
Rags
to riches
The Household Edition of
Forster’s Life, published by Chapman & Hall in 1879, included 28 new
illustrations of the biography by Fred Barnard. Among them was
an emotive image of Dickens as a young boy in the blacking warehouse.
Dickens wrote a private
account of this time, for which Forster’s
biography is our only remaining source. In this
autobiographical fragment, Dickens describes how he was brought down to work
among other boys in the warehouse. He was careful not to let them see his
suffering, and to make sure that he worked as hard as them. Yet what Barnard
pictures is a scene of solitude, visible despair or perhaps exhaustion at the
warehouse that is not described in this fragment. The image bears a closer
resemblance to Dickens’s fictionalisation of the first day at the warehouse in
David Copperfield.
In the novel, the young
Copperfield writes that: “I mingled my tears with the water in which I was
washing the [blacking] bottles.” Barnard heightens and externalises the private
emotion that Dickens wrote about in the autobiographical fragment to create a
fictional scene. In doing so, he further blurs the boundaries between Dickens
and the fictional Copperfield.
The practice of
Grangerization – the art of extending and customising a
published book with inserted material – was popular among Victorian readers.
Additional fictionalised illustrations of Dickens’s life, created by the
Dickens illustrator Frederick W. Pailthorpe, are revealed in a 14-volume Grangerization
of Forster’s Life, held in the British Library.
Some of these seem to
have been created for personal interest and private circulation among fellow
Dickens enthusiasts, rather than for publication. One sketch shows Dickens as a
boy making a low bow to a friend of his
Biographical
fiction and ‘real-person fiction’
In the 21st century,
readers have commented
on the resemblances between the fictional stories which the
young Brontë siblings wrote about real-life contemporary figures such as the
Duke of Wellington, and 20th and 21st-century forms of fan fiction.
Oscar Wilde’s 1889 story, The Portrait of
Mr W.H., focuses on a series of men whose biographical speculations
about the life of Shakespeare verge on fictionalisation.
Nevertheless, recent scholarly
work on biographical fiction has described it as coming into
being “mainly in the 20th century”. Press articles on
the form of fan fiction known as “real person fiction” have largely focused on
it as a product of internet culture (while noting briefly that many of
Shakespeare’s plays also fictionalise real-life figures).
Archival work on the
Victorian press, and on semi-private forms of reader response such as
Grangerized books, can flesh out our understanding of the role that
biographical fictionalisation played in Victorian culture. It demonstrates a
longer and more varied history of the human desire to appropriate and
imaginatively recreate famous contemporary figures. And it shows that part of Dickens’s
creative legacy, as well as his own works, was the fictional forms that his
life inspired others to create.
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