Charles Dickens, my favorite novelist and potentially favorite author, the author I can always go to for a laugh, for melodrama, for cozy plots, and for deliciously evil villains that deep down you can not help but enjoy reading—why have you forsaken me? Because in his fifth novel, Barnaby Rudge, Dickens’ humor, his coziness, his loveable villains, his loveable heroes, his great sympathy and sentimental love for his protagonists, and his perfectly paced stories are more or less nonexistent. 

Barnaby Rudge is an absolute slog to read. A book that starts promisingly with Gothic tones, a murder mystery, a wonderfully hateable villain, and a sympathizable protagonist, and slowly devolves as all of these promising pieces fall apart. To start with the Gothic tone and murder mystery, both of these things are fun to read in the beginning. I actually quite enjoyed the Gothic-ness throughout the entire book (I love classic Gothic fiction), but I still feel like, pacing-wise, the whole book is a mess. What starts as an interesting plot, quickly turns at breakneck speed to a story about mob violence and all the fun Gothic elements quickly evaporate. Is the payoff for the muder mystery mind blowing? Nope. Is Barnaby’s raven, Grip, connected with demonic powers or the pursuit of wealth that Barnaby unwittingly goes on since he is so frequently described with eyes gleaming like diamonds and croaking like a devil? Nope, Grip might as well not be in this story. So on and so forth.

However, to be succinct, the biggest complaint I have with this novel is in its villains. Sir John Chester, in the beginning of the book where he exists, is freaking incredible. Easily one of the greatest villains I have ever read–or at least he would be, if he was not taken out of the plot immediately after his plans go into motion. Chester’s whole schtick is that he acts as an obsequious, overly-polite, and deflecting character who masterminds all these schemes and horrible plots against people, but can always weasel his way out of any argument or accusation. Reading his descriptions of him simply walking down the street, and appearing so loveable that waiters and beggars will stare at him and follow him around because they believe that he must be an amazing person is so perfectly ironic and such a good way of showing what a villain he is. However, once Chester falls out of the plot, we meet the second main antagonist of the book, Hugh. The. Worst. Character. Ever. 

Essentially, I like to think that Charles Dickens sat back in his chair, scratching his beard and holding his pen aloft, reminiscing on what makes all of his villains good. This is his fifth book after all, and he has a plethora of wonderful villains to model his after. Chester is already similar to the scheming, manipulative characters such as Fagin or Ralph Nickleby, and so it would make sense for this second antagonist to be more like Daniel Quilp or Wacksford Squeers. I think this was his intention, and it makes sense. Hugh is essentially, a stable boy who is frequently described as a satyr or centaur, an absolute bear of a man, riddled with lust and a knack for violence. The chapter where he is truly introduced actually excited me a lot. He had been previously described as a minor background character who everyone, including the reader, forgets about. However, when one of the characters, the young Dolly Varden goes on a walk unsupervised, Hugh–the character we all treated as a simple-minded, background servant–assaults her and attempts to rape her until Dolly is rescued by another character. This chapter genuinely creeped me out, and it is done so effectively because Dickens intentionally plays with what we expect Hugh to be. If his readership first thought he’d be like Joe the fat servant from The Pickwick Papers, this action is a massive shock and is absolutely horrifying to read, and very well-written. With all that being said, what makes Hugh so awful?

It’s because Dickens does not commit to villainizing Hugh. Ever. As a matter of fact, when the Gordon Riots start, and Hugh begins leading them, we spend a massive chunk of the book just following him and his exploits like he’s some kind of Sydney Carton anti-hero we can grow to love. What Dickens clearly did not understand, is that a character that he portrays as an attempted rapist really is not someone we as readers want to read about as if he were a hero. 

To make matters worse, there is a whole plot line, where he finds Dolly and her best friend and locks them in a house, planning to rape them when the riots are over. And Dickens still does not express hatred for Hugh, like he does to Quilp or Squeers, but rather continues following him in the riots. And do not get me started on his portrayal of female characters in this novel, which is absolutely revolting. The scenes where Dolly and her friend are kidnapped, Dickens insists on describing how beautiful they are in their struggles, thus framing even moments like these through the eyes of the villains. 

Overall, Barnaby Rudge is an absolute disaster of a book, and something that infuriates me so much because I thought Dickens is a much better writer (and frankly, a better person) than this. 1 or, maybe generously 2 out of 10, do not recommend it, even as a Dickens or Gothic fiction fan.