A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens (Book the Second: The Golden Thread Ch. 19-24)
Lucie and her family are mostly happy. The French Revolution erupts. The Defarges continue to be strong and compelling figures. Charles makes an unwise, but probably inevitable decision without consulting his family.
Chapter 19 - An Opinion
Mr. Lorry delicately asks Dr. Manette's advice about a friend of his who has a tendency to revert to strange behaviors when reminded of his past trouble. He assures him that this friend has a daughter who is unaware of his latest relapse. Dr. Manette tells him that his friend probably received some upsetting news and working hard is good for him. Mr. Lorry convinces Dr. Manette to allow the destruction of his shoe making tools. Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross are the other great pair in this book: On the night of the day on which he left the house, Mr. Lorry went into his room with a chopper, saw, chisel, and hammer, attended by Miss Pross carrying a light. There, with closed doors, and in a mysterious and guilty manner, Mr. Lorry hacked the shoemaker's bench to pieces, while Miss Pross held the candle as if she were assisting at a murder for which, indeed, in her grimness, she was no unsuitable figure. The burning of the body (previously reduced to pieces convenient for the purpose) was commenced without delay in the kitchen fire; and the tools, shoes, and leather, were buried in the garden. So wicked do destruction and secrecy appear to honest minds, that Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross, while engaged in the commission of their deed and in the removal of its traces, almost felt, and almost looked, like accomplices in a horrible crime.
Chapter 20 - A Plea
Sydney Carton asks Charles's leave to drop by as a friend once in awhile. Although Charles permits it, he speaks slightingly of Carton's recklessness and carelessness later to the family group - Mr. Lorry, Dr. Manette, Miss Pross, and Lucie. Lucie asks her husband to be more generous toward Carton because he has a seldom-revealed, deeply wounded heart and, although his character may be irreparable, she believes him to be capable of good, gentle, even magnanimous things. She advises her husband to "remember how strong we are in our happiness, and how weak he is in his misery."
This is the first time we've seen Lucie and Charles act as lovers and they seem passionate about each other, but they spend most of the time talking about Sydney Carton.
Chapter 21 - Echoing Footsteps
Lucie is the angel in the house, "every busily winding the golden thread" that binds her husband, father, Miss Pross, and Mr. Lorry as a happy family group. She hears footsteps through her life. Briefly the footsteps involved fear of dying in childbirth, but after having two children the footsteps are cheerful and soothing. Even after the death of their young son, Lucie's suffering is tempered by religious reassurance. Her daughter grows up happy and healthy, speaking the tongue of the two cities that were blended in her life.
Narrator claims that children have a strange sympathy for men who have honorably loved their mother so both children are very kind to and fond of Sydney Carton.
Stryver married a widow with three indifferent sons and has convinced himself that Lucie attempted to lure him into an imprudent marriage. Charles refuses to tutor the stepsons.
Six years later (1789), a great storm and sea is rising in France. Headlong, mad, and dangerous footsteps echo in France culminating in the storming of the Bastille. M. Defarge demands to see 105 North and destroys his former master's cell. Mme. Defarge kills the prison's governor.
The sea of black and threatening waters, and of destructive upheaving of wave against wave, whose depths were yet unfathomed and whose forces were yet unknown. The remorseless sea of turbulently swaying shapes, voices of vengeance, and faces hardened in the furnaces of suffering until the touch of pity could make no mark on them.
The private affairs of the Darnays, while sweet, are nowhere near as exciting or compelling.
Chapter 22 - The Sea Still Rises
The revolutionaries, including the Defarges, stage other violent acts of vengeance. A former counselor of the king, Foulon, who told the poor that if they were really hungry they'd eat grass, is beheaded and has his mouth stuffed with grass.
Chapter 23 - Fire Rises
The world has turned upside down for the French nobles. Monseigneur (often a most worthy individual gentleman) was a national blessing, gave a chivalrous tone to things, was a polite example of luxurious and shining life, and a great deal more to equal purpose; nevertheless, Monseigneur as a class had, somehow or other, brought things to this. Strange that Creation, designed expressly for Monseigneur, should be so soon wrung dry and squeezed out! There must be something shortsighted in the eternal arrangements, surely! Thus it was, however; and the last drop of blood having been extracted from the flints, and the last screw of the rack having been turned so often that its purchase crumbled, and it now turned and turned with nothing to bite, Monseigneur began to run away from a phenomenon so low and unaccountable.
The officers realize that they only thing they can predict about their soldiers is that they won't follow orders.
The revolutionaries set fire to the late marquis's chateau. When the rider from the chateau asks the officers for help, they glance at their immobile soldiers and reply "It must burn."
The revolutionaries storm the house M. Gabelle, the tax and rent collector (although he hasn't been collecting much rent lately).
Chapter 24 - Drawn to the Loadstone Rock
By 1772, the noble emigrants are flocking to Telleson's for news and aid.
Charles tries to dissuade Mr. Lorry from traveling to the Paris branch. He admits that he admires Lorry's gallantry and usefulness. Lorry deflects the praise, saying that it would be ungrateful of him to accept a commission from the bank that has employed him for nearly sixty years and perhaps he'll retire when he returns home.
It turns out that Charles promised his father-in-law that he wouldn't reveal his real name. A letter arrives for "Monsieur heretofore the Marquis St. Evrémonde". The other emigrants haven't met him, but recall that, unlike his late uncle, he had degenerate ideas and Stryver (can't remember why he's hanging around the bank, don't care) accuses him of abdicating his responsibilities. Charles promises to deliver the letter for Mr. Lorry.
The letter is a plea from the imprisoned M. Gabelle for Monsieur to return home and somehow release him. Charles feels responsible for his servant, but it's not clear how he'll release him. He also feels guilty for not completely implementing his idealistic vision of turning over everything to the citizenry because he's been busy in England enjoying his new family life. He naively believes that "[t]he intention with which he had done what he had done, even although he had left it incomplete, presented it before him in an aspect that would be gratefully acknowledged in France on his presenting himself to assert it. Then, that glorious vision of doing good, which is so often the sanguine mirage of so many good minds, arose before him, and he even saw himself in the illusion with some influence to guide this raging Revolution that was running so fearfully wild." He sneaks out in the night, leaving his family supposedly reassuring letters. Nothing says "really there's no danger" like ducking out without discussing a decision.
It's clear why Darnay feels like he has to go, but it's unclear to him and the reader how exactly he will accomplish any of his lofty goals.
It was too much the way of Monseigneur under his reverses as a refugee, and it was much too much the way of native British orthodoxy, to talk of this terrible Revolution as if it were the only harvest ever known under the skies that had not been sown- as if nothing had ever been done, or omitted to be done, that had led to it- as if observers of the wretched millions in France, and of the misused and perverted resources that should have made them prosperous, had not seen it inevitably coming, years before, and had not in plain words recorded what they saw. Such vapouring, combined with the extravagant plots of Monseigneur for the restoration of a state of things that had utterly exhausted itself, and worn out Heaven and earth as well as itself, was hard to be endured without some remonstrance by any sane man who knew the truth.
Chapter 19 - An Opinion
Mr. Lorry delicately asks Dr. Manette's advice about a friend of his who has a tendency to revert to strange behaviors when reminded of his past trouble. He assures him that this friend has a daughter who is unaware of his latest relapse. Dr. Manette tells him that his friend probably received some upsetting news and working hard is good for him. Mr. Lorry convinces Dr. Manette to allow the destruction of his shoe making tools. Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross are the other great pair in this book: On the night of the day on which he left the house, Mr. Lorry went into his room with a chopper, saw, chisel, and hammer, attended by Miss Pross carrying a light. There, with closed doors, and in a mysterious and guilty manner, Mr. Lorry hacked the shoemaker's bench to pieces, while Miss Pross held the candle as if she were assisting at a murder for which, indeed, in her grimness, she was no unsuitable figure. The burning of the body (previously reduced to pieces convenient for the purpose) was commenced without delay in the kitchen fire; and the tools, shoes, and leather, were buried in the garden. So wicked do destruction and secrecy appear to honest minds, that Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross, while engaged in the commission of their deed and in the removal of its traces, almost felt, and almost looked, like accomplices in a horrible crime.
Chapter 20 - A Plea
Sydney Carton asks Charles's leave to drop by as a friend once in awhile. Although Charles permits it, he speaks slightingly of Carton's recklessness and carelessness later to the family group - Mr. Lorry, Dr. Manette, Miss Pross, and Lucie. Lucie asks her husband to be more generous toward Carton because he has a seldom-revealed, deeply wounded heart and, although his character may be irreparable, she believes him to be capable of good, gentle, even magnanimous things. She advises her husband to "remember how strong we are in our happiness, and how weak he is in his misery."
This is the first time we've seen Lucie and Charles act as lovers and they seem passionate about each other, but they spend most of the time talking about Sydney Carton.
Chapter 21 - Echoing Footsteps
Lucie is the angel in the house, "every busily winding the golden thread" that binds her husband, father, Miss Pross, and Mr. Lorry as a happy family group. She hears footsteps through her life. Briefly the footsteps involved fear of dying in childbirth, but after having two children the footsteps are cheerful and soothing. Even after the death of their young son, Lucie's suffering is tempered by religious reassurance. Her daughter grows up happy and healthy, speaking the tongue of the two cities that were blended in her life.
Narrator claims that children have a strange sympathy for men who have honorably loved their mother so both children are very kind to and fond of Sydney Carton.
Stryver married a widow with three indifferent sons and has convinced himself that Lucie attempted to lure him into an imprudent marriage. Charles refuses to tutor the stepsons.
Six years later (1789), a great storm and sea is rising in France. Headlong, mad, and dangerous footsteps echo in France culminating in the storming of the Bastille. M. Defarge demands to see 105 North and destroys his former master's cell. Mme. Defarge kills the prison's governor.
The sea of black and threatening waters, and of destructive upheaving of wave against wave, whose depths were yet unfathomed and whose forces were yet unknown. The remorseless sea of turbulently swaying shapes, voices of vengeance, and faces hardened in the furnaces of suffering until the touch of pity could make no mark on them.
The private affairs of the Darnays, while sweet, are nowhere near as exciting or compelling.
Chapter 22 - The Sea Still Rises
The revolutionaries, including the Defarges, stage other violent acts of vengeance. A former counselor of the king, Foulon, who told the poor that if they were really hungry they'd eat grass, is beheaded and has his mouth stuffed with grass.
Chapter 23 - Fire Rises
The world has turned upside down for the French nobles. Monseigneur (often a most worthy individual gentleman) was a national blessing, gave a chivalrous tone to things, was a polite example of luxurious and shining life, and a great deal more to equal purpose; nevertheless, Monseigneur as a class had, somehow or other, brought things to this. Strange that Creation, designed expressly for Monseigneur, should be so soon wrung dry and squeezed out! There must be something shortsighted in the eternal arrangements, surely! Thus it was, however; and the last drop of blood having been extracted from the flints, and the last screw of the rack having been turned so often that its purchase crumbled, and it now turned and turned with nothing to bite, Monseigneur began to run away from a phenomenon so low and unaccountable.
The officers realize that they only thing they can predict about their soldiers is that they won't follow orders.
The revolutionaries set fire to the late marquis's chateau. When the rider from the chateau asks the officers for help, they glance at their immobile soldiers and reply "It must burn."
The revolutionaries storm the house M. Gabelle, the tax and rent collector (although he hasn't been collecting much rent lately).
Chapter 24 - Drawn to the Loadstone Rock
By 1772, the noble emigrants are flocking to Telleson's for news and aid.
Charles tries to dissuade Mr. Lorry from traveling to the Paris branch. He admits that he admires Lorry's gallantry and usefulness. Lorry deflects the praise, saying that it would be ungrateful of him to accept a commission from the bank that has employed him for nearly sixty years and perhaps he'll retire when he returns home.
It turns out that Charles promised his father-in-law that he wouldn't reveal his real name. A letter arrives for "Monsieur heretofore the Marquis St. Evrémonde". The other emigrants haven't met him, but recall that, unlike his late uncle, he had degenerate ideas and Stryver (can't remember why he's hanging around the bank, don't care) accuses him of abdicating his responsibilities. Charles promises to deliver the letter for Mr. Lorry.
The letter is a plea from the imprisoned M. Gabelle for Monsieur to return home and somehow release him. Charles feels responsible for his servant, but it's not clear how he'll release him. He also feels guilty for not completely implementing his idealistic vision of turning over everything to the citizenry because he's been busy in England enjoying his new family life. He naively believes that "[t]he intention with which he had done what he had done, even although he had left it incomplete, presented it before him in an aspect that would be gratefully acknowledged in France on his presenting himself to assert it. Then, that glorious vision of doing good, which is so often the sanguine mirage of so many good minds, arose before him, and he even saw himself in the illusion with some influence to guide this raging Revolution that was running so fearfully wild." He sneaks out in the night, leaving his family supposedly reassuring letters. Nothing says "really there's no danger" like ducking out without discussing a decision.
It's clear why Darnay feels like he has to go, but it's unclear to him and the reader how exactly he will accomplish any of his lofty goals.
It was too much the way of Monseigneur under his reverses as a refugee, and it was much too much the way of native British orthodoxy, to talk of this terrible Revolution as if it were the only harvest ever known under the skies that had not been sown- as if nothing had ever been done, or omitted to be done, that had led to it- as if observers of the wretched millions in France, and of the misused and perverted resources that should have made them prosperous, had not seen it inevitably coming, years before, and had not in plain words recorded what they saw. Such vapouring, combined with the extravagant plots of Monseigneur for the restoration of a state of things that had utterly exhausted itself, and worn out Heaven and earth as well as itself, was hard to be endured without some remonstrance by any sane man who knew the truth.