"I was very glad afterwards to have had the interview; for, in her face and in her voice, and in her touch, she gave me the assurance, that suffering has been stronger than Miss Havisham’s teaching, and had given her a heart to understand what my heart used to be."
or
"I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and, as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the forge, so, the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw no shadow of another parting from her"
Oddly enough this week I am choosing to blog about a book that is not in my bookshelf, despite the fact that I've read it twice. The first time I had borrowed it from a now ex-girlfriend. The second time I'm pretty sure I had my own copy but now have no idea where it ended up. In either case the novel is a fantastic tale of misguided idealism and one that resonates particularly well after high school breakups (at least I can say so from personal experience). I could review a number of interesting and not-so-interesting topics along this vein but in reference to last week's post, today I want to further discuss the effects of serial publishing on our whole view of a novel.
It is widely known that Dickens wrote two endings to his novel. The first was stark and not particularly uplifting but stoically committed to Dickens' overall tone throughout the novel. The second, on the other hand, is what some might call a 'Disney' ending which makes the audience feel good despite the fact that it appears to compromise the moral system that the rest of the narrative seems to establish (one last thing: I must warn you before you read on that the rest of this blog is one big spoiler).
These two endings revolve around the narrative significance of the callous and enigmatic Estella, a woman whom the main character Pip grows to idealize far beyond the reality that continues to smack him in the face with a leather glove despite his persistent belief in her near-divinity. Plainly put Estella is a bitch, yet she is that special kind of bitch that somehow becomes more and more compelling the more she acts this way. Undoubtedly all of my male readers (if there are any) understand what I mean and just as us guys still can't figure out why pursue these women so Dickens and his audience appear to have been unsure of where to place her.
With a character like Estella Dickens presents an interesting set of narrative choices. Since Great Expectations is essentially a bildungsroman (or a coming-of-age tale) Pip's interaction with Estella can be resolved in a few ways: either he grows out of his childish infatuation or Estella grows out of her bitchiness in order to see Pip for the good man he has become. These are Dickens' primary conclusions but we also have another set of unused alternatives: one being that neither character progresses (which Dickens is of course an astute enough author to avoid such a lack of character development), or both progress into an ideal and thus marriageable state (which of course is the FULL realization of the Disney ending. An ending which, fortunate for us, was quite far fetched for the bleak cultural and literary landscape of Victorian England).
So we are left with our two choices: either Pip grows up or Estella grows up. It is worth noting that the former was Dickens' first published ending (for a full analysis of both endings I found this little site). As a scorned lover this remains the ending that most resonates with me because rather than attempt to redeem either character Dickens commits himself to seeing the fates of both Pip and Estella through to their just desserts. I can't say that I advocate the suggestion that Estella's husband beat her and it is somewhat disappointing that Pip ends up growing old a single man, but this ending represents a whole and unflinching moral code that is unwilling to redeem characters so irrevocably sullied by their own selfishness: of course I don't want to see Pip or Estella suffer, but I can't accept a bright future in light of their respective pasts.
Yet the second ending appears to throw this entire line of logic out of the window. If you reference the link above you will notice that Dickens changed his ending on suggestion of not only his audience but that of Wilkie Collins as well. I can't help but feel somewhat strange that an author as prolific as Dickens was influence in the construction of his narrative by a still decent but clearly lesser artist. But then again this whole mutability of a work of literary art brings us back to the issue of serial publishing. As mentioned last week, an author like James Joyce would hardly let another soul view his work until it was complete in its entirety since the calculated integrity of the whole was essential to its aesthetic impact. Dickens, on the other hand, knew he was playing to a crowd and despite my wish to believe that such an author is willing to martyr himself rather than compromise his own art, with this particular author we have no such ability.
Dicken's second ending to Great Expectations leaves its readers with the notion that Pip and Estella, despite the chapters upon chapters that have exposed the major flaws in both characters, will spend the rest of their lives together. This ending apparently satisfied Dickens' reading audience much better but the question is, why? Could it be that, like so many uber-nerds responding to each and every modern comic book movie, they simply want a hand in shaping their favorite narratives? Is it because we have some draw to a romantic conclusion to every novel we read despite the fact that the entire narrative has been anything but romantic?
I suppose the question that I have begun asking myself is: is this ending as satisfying as we tend to believe that it is? Most critics tend to find that the original ending is more consistent with the rest of the work (which says a lot for a serially published novel) and though I tend to agree, my goal in this discussion is not to try to reach an ultimate answer in the debate but to speculate as to why two endings exist at all. We have established that the first ending seems to serve karma while the second seems to serve a simpler pop-media agenda. But if Charles Dickens himself is willing to claim that "Upon the whole I think it is for the better" there must be more to it.
The first ending unabashedly understands Pip and Estella to represent two irreparably flawed characters and though we might initially believe that a marriage between the two might suggest a form of redemption it might not be the case. Dickens' revised ending still shares the kind of tragic tone and faded virility of the original suggesting that despite the fact that both Pip and Estella appear to have grown through their experiences they are both tragically flawed characters (Pip through his selfishness and Estella through her cruelty). If this is the case then they don't represent an ideal couple (in fact Joe and Biddy are much more representative of unsullied innocence and thus it makes sense that Pip is barred from access to Biddy) but they do appear to be made for each other. Pip may not see 'any shadow of parting from her' but that may simply be because, at this point in their fallen lives they are forever linked in a shared aesthetic impotence that is the ultimate (moreso than the original ending) comeuppance for their wasted lives.
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