Thursday, October 16, 2014

A Tale of Two Cities

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way

I’m very hesitant to begin an attempt at writing about this great piece of literature. Nothing I have to say will ever be worthy of it, nothing can come close to conveying how powerful this story is. Nevertheless, it’s my second favorite book of all time, and has to be part of this series.

A Tale of Two Cities (Charles Dickens, 1859) is a story about the intersecting paths of two men: Charles Darnay, a French émigré and Sydney Carton, a lawyer.

Charles was married to Lucie, a sweet lovely woman. They had a young daughter and a safe, comfortable home life in Paris.

But Sydney also loved Lucie.

Sydney had professed his love for Lucie, all while knowing he had nothing to offer her. When Lucie chose Charles, Sydney told Lucie that he would "embrace any sacrifice for" her.

Sydney was a drunk, he was a loser. He had no one, and he was nobody. Most days, it was a miracle if he was in court awake, and not passed out drunk at his desk. He was not on time for anything, and could not be depended on for anything. He knew he was worthless. But he didn’t know how to crawl out of that hopeless pit, and I don’t know if he even wanted to.

Eventually, one fine day, Charles and Lucie’s idyllic home life was roughly interrupted. Charles was arrested. The police arrived in the middle of the night and took him unceremoniously to jail. There was something he had done in his past life, which gave rise to suspicion.

He was later given a trial, during which, Sydney showed the attendees that (as he pulled his hair off his shoulders) he could have be easily mistaken for Charles, so how could they be sure they had the right man. Sydney was indeed, a very close mirror image to Charles – the likeness was uncanny.

Charles was soon freed to go back to his home and his wife and child. 

Not very many days passed before a fresh accusation was brought against Charles. This was a much more serious charge, and he was sent to the prison. There was not hope for rescue or abatement. All hope was lost. He was scheduled for a meeting with the guillotine the following morning.

Sydney devised a plan. He managed to get inside the prison, under the pretense of visiting Lucie’s husband for her, as she and her family were fleeing the city, stricken with grief and sorrow,  the very next day. While in the cell, Sydney drugged Charles, knocking him unconscious. He calmly exchanged clothes with the prostrate man, and composed a letter to Lucie. He shoved the letter in Charles’ coat pocket and rapped on the cell door. Telling the jailer that “Sydney” he had passed out from grief, he helped him out the door.

The next morning at dawn, Sydney was rolling towards the guillotine crowded in a tumbril with a handful of others meant for the same fate. A seamstress, who was riding with him and the others, looks up into his face, and realizes he is not Darnay. She is shocked at first, then upon realizing what he has done, she embraces him, and she clings to him for their last few moments on earth.

Lucie found the letter in her very alive husband’s coat pocket as they were leaving the city. She shed tears of joy, happiness, and sorrow.

Sydney gave his life for Lucie’s happiness, for her future, and for her family. “…I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see her with a child upon her bosom, who bears my name. I see her father, aged and bent, but otherwise restored, and faithful to all men in his healing office, and at peace... I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for me on the anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband, their course done, lying side by side in their last earthly bed, and I know that each was not more honoured and held sacred in the other's soul, than I was in the souls of both...” 

His love was so strong for her, that he gave up his life so that she could have her husband, and her happiness. He knew he was not worthy of her. His final sacrifice and subsequent redemption makes this one of the greatest stories ever written.

“I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.”


Artwork created by: Itsjustmarc

This post is part of the 31 Days of Bibliophilia series. 

No comments:

Post a Comment