SotA Anthology 2015-16 | Page 10

SotA Anthology 2015-16 ‘Bring him for’ard, and I’ll chuck him out o‘ winder!’ To suggest however that she acts simply as Flora’s mouthpiece again denies ‘the legacy’ her own voice, one which undoubtedly articulates hostility towards what she perceives as a threat to her security with Flora. Even before David’s ‘disappointment’ in the ‘overgrown’ Flora becomes apparent, she shrewdly questions the motives for his visit: ‘What he come there for, then?’ and denounces him as a ‘fool’. During only their second meeting her declaration of ‘mile-stones on the Dover Road’, perhaps best understood as an exhortation to Clennam to return from whence he came, precedes her direct challenge as to whether he ‘wanted to get rid of her’. The close dependance and community she has achieved with Flora, exemplified in their exchange of toast, is something she fears that Clennam, too ‘proud’ to participate in their habit, will displace, and it is this insecurity rather than any advocacy on Flora’s behalf that accounts for her immediate and constant animosity towards him. Careful attention to what Mr F.’s Aunt actually says pays further dividends. Arriving at ‘DOYCE AND CLENNAM’ she is described as ‘stumbling over some impediment, and menacing steam-power as an Institution with a stony reticule’. These rants against progressive machinery symbolically unite ‘the legacy’, a title which inextricably links her to the past, with those backward thinking forces of the novel that promote stagnation and quash advancement. Whilst Showalter (1979) suggests a sexual connotation to the handbag, its appearance in Clennan’s workshop more appropriately images the ‘circumlocutionary’ obstruction which, ‘Barnacle’ like, plagues not only the industry of Clennam and Doyce but, more widely, the nation’s progress. Just as she articulates resistance to change on the domestic front, here she points backwards to pre-industrial times, with both body and bag firmly entrenched with ‘the whole Science of Government’ against the future. Vitriolic outbursts and fossilised bag together become symbols of stasis and vehicles of outrage against emotional development and industrial growth. In the context of tear-stained Flora’s last meeting with Little Dorrit, Mr F.’s Aunt assumes a ‘stiffened [...] appearance of being past bending, by any means short of powerful mechanical pressure’. Positioned on the steps of the Marshalsea, her ‘bonnet was cocked up behind her in a terrific manner; and her stony reticule was as rigid as if it had been petrified by the Gorgon’s head’. Both Aunt and handbag, with its Medusean powers of paralysis, remain unbendingly resistant to change from any quarter. Reminiscences concerning Henley, ‘Barnes’s gander’, the ‘Great Fire of London’ and ‘your uncle George’ remain for Mr F.’s Aunt a clear and vital link to her past. In her rants against Clennam and progress, ‘the legacy’ speaks not simply on behalf of Flora and the Barnacles but expresses a personal longing for a past to which she vainly clings and yet has lost, a time when she could express herself and those around her did not require a ‘key’ to unlock her meaning. Whilst Dickens offers the reader multiple readings of Mr F.’s Aunt, each with the potential to enrich and enliven the novel’s meaning, it is only through a careful analysis of what she actually says that her rightful place in the narrative shifts from the ‘eccentric’ margins of the story to its very heart. As no first hand account of Mr Dick’s traumas are forthcoming, attempts at a psychological understanding of him are inevitably fraught with problems. It is through Betsey that the reader learns that both his name and family circumstances are abhorrent to him and that attempts to confront his past in his ‘Memorial’ result in such agitation that the ‘troubles’ of King Charles I impose and his memories remain repressed. Whilst he is capable of cautioning David about the cruel madness of the world and articulating his confusion about how royal ‘trouble’ finds its way into his head, he is incapable of acknowledging, either verbally or in writing, how he has been ‘ill-used’. His edenic retreat in Betsey’s ‘immaculate spot’ provides a safe haven from the ‘Bedlam’ of a world he cannot face, the detail of which he does not want even mentioned.