Dickens story of David Copperfield. The novel "David Copperfield" by Charles Dickens

English Charles Dickens. David Copperfield or The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery (Which He Never Meant to Publish on Any Account)· 1849

David Copperfield was born half an orphan - six months after the death of his father. It so happened that his father's aunt, Miss Betsy Trotwood, was present at his birth - her marriage was so unsuccessful that she became a man-hater, returned to her maiden name and settled in the wilderness. Before her nephew's marriage, she loved him very much, but she came to terms with his choice and came to meet his wife only six months after his death. Miss Betsy expressed her desire to become the godmother of a newborn girl (she wanted a girl to be born without fail), asked her to be called Betsy Trotwood Copperfield and set out to “raise her properly”, protecting her from all possible mistakes. When she learned that a boy had been born, she was so disappointed that, without saying goodbye, she left her nephew's house forever.

As a child, David is surrounded by the cares and love of his mother and nanny Peggotty. But his mother is getting married a second time.

During their honeymoon, David and his nanny are sent to Yarmouth to stay with Brother Peggotty. So for the first time he finds himself in a hospitable house-boat and gets acquainted with its inhabitants: Mr. Peggotty, his nephew Ham, his niece Emley (David falls in love with her like a child) and the widow of his companion, Mrs. Gummidge.

Returning home, David finds there a "new dad" - Mr. Mardston and a completely changed mother: now she is afraid to caress him and obey her husband in everything. When Mr. Mardstone's sister also moves in with them, the boy's life becomes completely unbearable. The Mardstones are quite proud of their toughness, meaning by it "the tyrannical, gloomy, arrogant, diabolical disposition inherent in both of them." The boy is taught at home; under the ferocious gazes of his stepfather and his sister, he grows dumb with fear and cannot answer the lesson. The only joy of his life is his father's books, which, fortunately, ended up in his room. For poor study, they deprive him of lunch, give him cuffs on the back of the head; finally, Mr. Mardstone decides to resort to flogging. As soon as the first blow fell on David, he bit his stepfather's hand. For this, he is sent to Salem House School - right in the middle of the holidays. His mother took a cold leave of him under the watchful eye of Miss Mardstone, and only when the wagon had driven away from home did the faithful Peggotty surreptitiously jump into it and, showering "her Davy" with kisses, provided him with a basket of goodies and a purse, in which, besides other money, were two half-crowns from the mother, wrapped in a piece of paper with the inscription: “For Davy. With love". At school, his back was immediately adorned with a poster: “Beware! It bites!" The holidays are over, its inhabitants are returning to the school, and David meets new friends - the recognized leader among the students, James Steerford, six years older than him, and Tommy Traddles - "the funniest and most miserable", the School is run by Mr. Creakle, whose teaching method is intimidation and spanking; not only the students, but also the family are mortally afraid of him. Steerford, before whom Mr. Creekle fawns, takes Copperfield under his protection - because he, like Scheherazade, retells to him the contents of books from his father's library at night.

Christmas holidays come, and David goes home, not yet knowing that this meeting with his mother is destined to be the last: soon she dies, and David's newborn brother dies. After the death of his mother, David no longer returns to school: Mr. Mardston explains to him that education costs money and such as David Copperfield will not need it, because it's time for them to earn a living. The boy keenly feels his abandonment: the Mardstones have calculated Peggotty, and the kind nanny is the only person in the world who loves him. Peggotty returns to Yarmouth and marries Barkis the carter; but before parting, she begged the Mardstons to let David go to stay in Yarmouth, and he again finds himself in a boat house on the seashore, where everyone sympathizes with him and everyone is kind to him - the last sip of love before severe trials.

Mardston sends David to London to work at Mardston and Greenby. So at the age of ten, David enters an independent life - that is, he becomes a slave of the company. Together with other boys, forever hungry, he washes bottles all day, feeling how he gradually forgets school wisdom and is horrified at the thought that someone from his former life might see him. His suffering is strong and deep, but he does not complain.

David is very attached to the family of the owner of his apartment, Mr. Micawber, a frivolous loser, constantly besieged by creditors and living in the eternal hope that someday "fortune will smile at us." Mrs. Micawber, easily hysterical and just as easily consoled, now and then asks David to pawn either a silver spoon or sugar tongs. But the Micawbers also have to part: they end up in a debtor's prison, and after their release they go to seek their fortune in Plymouth. David, who does not have a single loved one left in this city, firmly decides to run to his grandmother Trotwood. In a letter, he asks Peggotty where his grandmother lives, and asks him to send him half a guinea on credit. Having received the money and the rather vague answer that Miss Trotwood lives "somewhere near Dover", David collects his belongings in a chest and goes to the mail-coach station; on the way he is robbed, and, already without a chest and without money, he sets off on foot. He sleeps in the open and sells his jacket and vest to buy bread, he is exposed to many dangers - and on the sixth day, hungry and dirty, with broken legs, comes to Dover. Happily finding his grandmother's house, weeping, he tells his story and asks for protection. Grandma writes to the Mardstons and promises to give a final answer after talking to them, but in the meantime David is washed, fed and put into a real clean bed.

After talking with the Mardstons and realizing the extent of their gloom, rudeness and greed (taking advantage of the fact that David's mother, whom they brought to the grave, did not stipulate David's share in the will, they took possession of all her property without allocating him a penny), the grandmother decides to become David's legal guardian.

Finally David returns to normal. Although his grandmother is eccentric, she is very, very kind, and not only to her great-nephew. In her house lives a quiet, crazy Mr. Dick, whom she saved from Bedlam. David starts at Dr. Strong's school in Canterbury; since there are no more places in the boarding school at the school, the grandmother gratefully accepts the offer of her lawyer, Mr. Wickfield, to put the boy with him. After the death of his wife, Mr. Wickfield, flooding his grief, began to have an immoderate addiction to port wine; the only light of his life is his daughter Agnes, who is the same age as David. For David, she also became a kind angel. In Mr. Wickfield's law office, Uriah Heep is a disgusting type, red-haired, writhing all over, with eyes that do not close, red, without eyelashes, with perpetually cold and damp hands, obsequiously adding to each of his phrases: "we are small, humble people."

Dr. Strong's school turns out to be the complete opposite of Mr. Creekle's. David is a successful student, and happy school years, warmed by the love of his grandmother, Mr. Dick, the kind angel Agnes, fly by instantly.

After leaving school, Grandmother suggests that David go to London, visit Peggotty and, after resting, choose a business to his liking; David goes on a trip. In London, he meets Steerford, with whom he studied at Salem House. Steerford invites him to stay with his mother, and David accepts the invitation. In turn, David invites Steerford to come with him to Yarmouth.

They come to the house-boat at the moment of the engagement of Emli and Ham, Emli has grown and blossomed, the women of the whole district hate her for her beauty and ability to dress with taste; she works as a seamstress. David lives in his nanny's house, Steerford in an inn; David spends all day wandering around the cemetery around his native graves, Steerford goes to sea, organizes feasts for sailors and enchants the entire population of the coast, "prompted by an unconscious desire to rule, an unconscious need to conquer, conquer even that which has no price for him." How sorry David will be for bringing him here!

Steerford seduces Em'ly, and on the eve of the wedding, she runs away with him "to return lady or not return at all". Ham's heart is broken, he yearns to forget himself in his work, Mr. Peggotty goes to look for Em'ly around the world, and only Mrs. Gummidge remains in the boat house - so that the light is always on in the window, in case Em'ly returns. For many years there is no news about her, finally David finds out that in Italy Em'ly fled from Steerford when he, bored with her, offered her to marry his servant.

Grandmother suggests that David choose a career as a lawyer - a proctor in Dr. Commons. David agrees, his grandmother contributes a thousand pounds for his education, arranges his life and returns to Dover.

David's independent life begins in London. He is happy to meet again Tommy Traddles, his friend from Salem House, who also works in the legal field, but, being poor, earns his living and education on his own. Traddles is engaged and eagerly tells David about his Sophie. David is also in love - with Dora, the daughter of Mr. Spenlow, the owner of the company where he studies. Friends have a lot to talk about. Despite the fact that life does not spoil him, Traddles is surprisingly good-natured. It turns out that the owners of his apartment are the Micawbers; they are, as usual, entangled in debt. David is glad to renew the acquaintance; Traddles and the Micawbers make up his circle of friends until the Micawbers go to Canterbury - under the pressure of circumstances and inspired by the hope that "fortune smiled at them": Mr. Micawber got a job in the office of Wickfield and Heep.

Uriah Heep, skillfully playing on Mr. Wickfield's weaknesses, became his companion and gradually takes over the office. He deliberately confuses accounts and shamelessly robs the firm and its clients, drugging Mr. Wickfield and instilling in him the conviction that the cause of the distressed state of affairs is his drunkenness. He moves into Mr. Wickfield's house and harasses Agnes. And Micawber, completely dependent on him, is hired to help him in his dirty business.

One of Uriah Hip's victims is David's grandmother. She is ruined; with Mr. Dick and all her belongings, she comes to London, renting out her house in Dover to feed herself. David is not at all discouraged by this news; he goes to work as a secretary to Dr. Strong, who retired and settled in London (he was recommended this place by the good angel Agnes); in addition, studies shorthand. Grandmother runs their household in such a way that it seems to David that he has become not poorer, but richer; Mr. Dick earns by correspondence of papers. Having mastered the same shorthand, David begins to make very good money as a parliamentary reporter.

Having learned about the change in David's financial situation, Mr. Spenlow, Dora's father, refuses him a house. Dora is also afraid of poverty. David is inconsolable; but when Mr. Spenlow died suddenly, it turned out that his affairs were in complete disarray - Dora, who now lives with her aunts, is no richer than David. David is allowed to visit her; Dora's aunts got along well with David's grandmother. David is a little embarrassed that everyone treats Dora like a toy; but she doesn't mind. Having reached the age of majority, David marries. This marriage turned out to be short-lived: two years later, Dora dies, not having had time to grow up.

Mr Peggotty finds Em'ly; after much ordeal, she made it to London, where Martha Endell, a fallen girl from Yarmouth whom Emly once helped, in turn saves her and brings her to her uncle's apartment. (It was David's idea to involve Martha in the search for Emly.) Mr. Peggotty now intends to emigrate to Australia, where no one will be interested in Emly's past.

Meanwhile, Mr. Micawber, unable to participate in Uriah Heep's swindles, exposes him with Traddles' help. Mr. Wickfield's good name has been saved, fortunes have been returned to Grandma and other clients. Full of gratitude, Miss Trotwood and David pay Micawber's bills and lend money to this glorious family: the Micawbers have also decided to go to Australia. Mr. Wickfield liquidates the firm and retires; Agnes opens a school for girls.

On the eve of the steamer's departure for Australia, a terrible storm occurred on the Yarmouth coast - it claimed the lives of Ham and Steerford.

After the death of Dora, David, who has become a famous writer (he moved from journalism to fiction), goes to the continent to work through his grief. Returning three years later, he marries Agnes, who, as it turns out, has loved him all her life. Grandmother finally became godmother to Betsy Trotwood Copperfield (that's the name of one of her great-granddaughters); Peggotty babysits David's children; Traddles is also married and happy. Emigrants have settled down remarkably in Australia. Uriah Heep is being held in a prison run by Mr. Creakle.

Thus, life put everything in its place.

Will I become the hero of a story about my own life, or will it
someone else will take the place - subsequent pages should show. I'll start
story of my life from the beginning and say that I was born on a Friday at
twelve o'clock at night (so I was told, and I believe it). It was noted that
my first cry coincided with the first stroke of the clock.
Considering the day and hour of my birth, my mother's nurse and
some experienced neighbors who had the liveliest interest in me for
many months before our personal acquaintance, they announced, firstly, that I
predestined to experience misfortune in life and, secondly, that I was given
the privilege of seeing ghosts and spirits; in their opinion, all unfortunate babies
male and female, born on Friday around midnight, inevitably
receive both of these gifts.
There is no need for me to dwell here on the first prediction, for she herself
the history of my life will best show whether it came true or not. About the second
prediction I can only state that if I have not squandered this part of my
inheritance in infancy, then, therefore, has not yet come into possession of it.
However, having lost my property, I do not complain at all, and if in
currently it is in other hands, I sincerely wish the owner
save her.
I was born in a shirt, and in the newspapers there was an advertisement for its sale at
cheap - for fifteen guineas. But either at that time the sailors had little money,
either little faith and they preferred cork belts, I don't know; I know
just that a single offer was received from a certain intercessor for
dealing with stockbrokers, who offered two pounds
in cash (intending to make up for the rest with sherry), but to give more, and
he did not want to protect himself from the danger of drowning. Following the sim
ads were no longer given, considering them a waste of money - as for
sherry, then my poor mother used to sell her own sherry - and
ten years later, the shirt was raffled in our area in a lottery between
by fifty participants each contributing half a crown, with the winner having to
be to pay extra five shillings. I myself was present at the same time and, I recall,
experienced some awkwardness and embarrassment, seeing how they dispose of part
myself. I remember the shirt was won by an old lady with a little
basket, from which she very reluctantly drew the required five
shillings in halfpenny coins without paying two and a half
pence; a lot of time was spent on unsuccessful attempts to prove it to her
arithmetic way. In our area for a long time will remember that
remarkable fact that she did not really drown, but solemnly
reposed for ninety-two years in her own bed. As I was told
until her last days she was especially proud and boasted that she had never
been on the water, except that she passed over the bridge, and for a cup of tea (to which
addicted) she reviled wicked sailors to her last breath and
all people in general who presumptuously "travel" around the world.

Charles Dickens

David Copperfield

I SHOW INTO THE LIGHT

At the very beginning of my biography, I must mention that I was born on Friday, at midnight. It was noticed that my first cry was heard when the clock began to strike. Taking into account the day and hour of my birth, the nurse and several wise neighbors, who were keenly interested in my person for many months before a possible personal acquaintance with me, announced that I was destined to be unhappy in life. They were convinced that such was the inevitable fate of all unfortunate babies of both sexes born on Friday at midnight.

There is no need for me to say anything here about this, for the history of my life will show itself best of all whether this prediction was justified or false.

I was born at Blonderston, Suffolk, after the death of my father, whose eyes closed to earthly light six months before mine opened. And now, even when I think about it, it seems strange to me that my father never saw me. And even stranger still are my vague recollections of early childhood connected with my father's white tombstone in our village cemetery: I always felt some inexpressible pity for this stone, lying alone in the darkness of the night, while in our small living room it was so light. and warmth from lit candles and a burning fireplace. Sometimes it even seemed cruel to me that the doors of our house were firmly locked, as if from this stone.

The most important person in our family was my father's aunt, therefore, my great-aunt, about whom I will soon have to talk a lot here. My aunt, Miss Trotwood, or Miss Betsy (as my mother called her in those rare moments when she managed, overcoming her fear, to mention this formidable person), married a man younger than herself, a handsome man, who, however, did not justify the saying: “Beautiful is the one who acts beautifully.” He was strongly suspected of sometimes hitting Miss Betsy, and one day, in the heat of an argument over money matters, he suddenly went so far as to nearly throw her out of a second-story window. Such eloquent evidence of dissimilarity of character prompted Miss Betsy to pay off her husband and get a divorce by mutual agreement. With the capital obtained in this way, the former husband of Miss Betsy went to India, and there, according to an absurd family legend, he was once seen riding an elephant in the company of a baboon. Be that as it may, ten years later rumors of his death reached India.

What impression these rumors made on my aunt remained a mystery to everyone, for immediately after the divorce she took her maiden name again, bought herself a house somewhere far away, in a village on the seashore, settled there alone with a maid, and since then led a real life. hermits.

It seems to me that my father was once my aunt's favorite, but he mortally insulted her by marrying a "wax doll," as Miss Betsy called my mother. She had never seen my mother, but she knew she was not even twenty years old. Having married, my father never met my aunt again. He was twice as old as his mother and was far from in good health. My father died a year after the wedding and, as I have already mentioned, six months before my birth.

Such was the state of affairs on an important and fraught Friday afternoon for me. Mother was sitting by the fireplace; she was unwell, and her mood was very depressed. Looking through her tears at the fire, she thought in deep dejection of herself and of the tiny unknown orphan, whom the world, apparently, was going to meet not very hospitably.

So, on a clear windy March day, mother was sitting by the fireplace, thinking with fear and longing about whether she would be able to get out alive from the upcoming test, when suddenly, wiping her tears, she saw an unfamiliar lady walking through the garden through the window.

Mother looked at the lady again, and a sure presentiment told her that it was Miss Betsy. The setting sun, behind the garden wall, shone its rays on the stranger as she made her way to the door of the house, and she walked with such self-confident air, with such stern determination in her eyes, that no one but Miss Betsy could have. Approaching the house, the aunt presented another proof that it was she: my father often said that his aunt rarely acted like ordinary mortals. And this time, instead of ringing the bell, she went to the window and began to look into it, pressing her nose so hard against the glass that, according to my poor mother, her nose instantly flattened and completely turned white.

Her appearance greatly frightened my mother, and I was always convinced that it was to Miss Betsy that I owed the fact that I was born on a Friday. The excited mother jumped up from her chair and huddled behind him in a corner. Miss Betsy, slowly and inquiringly rolling her eyes, like a Turk on a Dutch clock, looked around the room with them; at last her gaze rested on her mother, and, frowning, she commanded her with an imperious gesture to open the door. She obeyed.

You are Mrs. Copperfield, I presume? asked Miss Betsy.

Yes, my mother murmured.

Miss Trotwood, the guest introduced herself. - I hope you've heard of her?

Mother replied that she had enjoyed it. But she had the unpleasant realization that this "great" pleasure was by no means reflected on her face.

So, now you see her before you, - said Miss Betsy.

Mother bowed and asked her to come in. They went into the little drawing-room, from which mother had just come out, for the fireplace in the front drawing-room had not been lit, or rather, it had not been lit since the very funeral of their father.

When they both sat down, and Miss Betsy still did not begin to speak, my mother, after a futile effort to control herself, burst into tears.

Well, well, well, said Miss Betsy hastily. - Leave it! Fullness! Fullness!

However, mother could not control herself, and the tears continued to flow until she cried out.

Take off your cap, my child,” said Miss Betsy suddenly, “let me have a look at you.

Mother was too frightened not to submit to this strange demand, and immediately took off her cap, while she was so nervous that her thick, wonderful hair completely unraveled.

My God! exclaimed Miss Betsy. - Yes, you are a child!

Undoubtedly, my mother, even for her age, was unusually youthful. The poor thing lowered her head, as if it were her fault, and, weeping, confessed that perhaps she was too young to be both a widow and a mother, if only, having become a mother, she would live.

There was another silence, during which it seemed to my mother that Miss Betsy had touched her hair, and the touch seemed to be gentle. Mother with timid hope looked at her husband's aunt, but she lifted her dress a little, put her feet on the grate of the fireplace, put her hands on her knee and, frowning, stared at the blazing fire ...

Tell me, for God's sake, - suddenly the aunt suddenly spoke, - why is it "Rooks"?

Are you talking about our homestead? asked mother.

Why "Rooks"? insisted Miss Betsy. - Of course, you would call your estate something else, if at least one of you had a penny of common sense.

The name was given by Mr. Copperfield, - answered my mother. - When he bought this estate, he liked that there were a lot of rook nests around.

At that moment the evening wind roared so loudly among the old elms that both mother and Miss Betsy involuntarily glanced in that direction. The elms leaned towards each other like giants whispering among themselves; having calmed down for a few seconds, they again rushed furiously, waving their shaggy arms, as

Charles John Huffam Dickens (born Charles John Huffam Dickens; 1812-1870) was an English writer.
"David Copperfield" (1849-1850). This novel is largely autobiographical. His intentions are very serious. The spirit of praising the old foundations of morality and the family, the spirit of protest against the new capitalist England resounds loudly here too. There are different ways to treat "David Copperfield". Some take it so seriously that they consider it Dickens' greatest work.
"The story of David Copperfield, told by himself," tells the story of the title character's life from his birth (according to his mother and nanny) until the time when you can finally say about him: "And he lived happily ever after."
David Copperfield recalls his early childhood with his beloved mother and nanny Peggotty, his mother's second marriage, the terrible Mr. Murdstone and his sister Jane, Peggotty's relatives in Yarmouth - Mr. Peggotty, little Emley and Ham, with whom he replaced his parents, whiny Mrs. Gummidge. David recalls studying at Mr. Creekle's school, where students were bullied in every possible way, recalls his classmates Tom Traddles and James Steerforth. He remembers how, after the death of his mother, he was taken away from school and assigned to wash bottles in the enterprise of Mr. Murdstone's partner; remembers his acquaintance with the Micawber family; remembers how he ran away from washing bottles and how he found his great-aunt Betsy Trotwood; how she took him into her care and sent him to Mr. Strong's school - the exact opposite of Mr. Creakle's. Remembers Mr. Wickfield and his daughter Agnes and the disgusting Uriah Hipa and his mother. David recalls how he studied law at Mr. Spenlow's office and fell in love with his daughter Dora. He remembers how his friend Steerforth seduced and took little Em'ly with him to Europe, and Mr. Peggotty went to look for her. How Miss Trotwood went bankrupt, and how, after Mr. Spenlow's death, he went out of his way to make enough money to support himself and Dora, whom he married. He remembers how he taught and learned shorthand, became a parliamentary correspondent, then began to write and gradually became a famous writer. How Mr. Micawber helped expose the fraud of Uriah Heep in taking over Mr. Wickfield, and in doing so, Miss Trotwood regained her fortune. David remembers how Dora died, how James Steerforth and Ham died, how Mr. Peggotty found Emley and they went to Australia with the Micawbers, and how he finally married his good angel Agnes. The picture of their happiness, in fact, ends the novel.
There are many autobiographical moments in the novel (David's career practically repeats the career of Dickens himself), but still this is a work of art that cannot be reduced to the biography of its author. In "David Copperfield" Dickens's views on the world, on man and on the place of literature in the world and in human life are clearly visible.
In truth, the legendary novel in the already legendary edition from Eksmo will delight all connoisseurs of immortal literature!

The novel made a strong impression on me: it sweetened the mind, enriched the soul, diversified the palette of feelings. The beginning sagged a little: reading about the baby's vision at home and about his pastime was not entirely exciting, and it was hard to read about the trials associated with the mother's second marriage (how hard it is to see the suffering of children with your own eyes). However, about the adventures of David Copperfield, from a trip to Dover to the very last page of the book, I already read avidly.

David himself, sometimes too naive (“Blind man, blind man, blind man!”), Admires with his cordiality, purity of soul, lack of cunning and suspicion. He is reminiscent of Prince Myshkin, who was lucky enough not to be thought of as weak-minded because of the kindness of his soul. He was not lucky with his loved ones right away, but they always supported him for who he is. That's how I like him.

The characters surrounding the narrator and protagonist are varied but clearly defined: good vs bad. Terrible grandmother, comical-looking (but hard inside) Miss Moucher; Rosa Dartle and her love just ask for a separate book; Traddles and his protracted engagement, Steerforth vs. Ham, girls slipping in their path; David's teachers and mentors; of course, Littimer, Hip, Creakle and others like them - a gallery of faces and their stories. Only Mr. Micawber, in spite of everything, is dear to the author and in any situation is justified and, in the end, successful. That is the will of the author.

Perhaps the story of David Copperfield is slightly idealized, somewhat implausible, but it is instructive, good conclusions (about marriage, work, duty, religiosity, honesty, good and evil). And let the swindlers and liars be punished. And let loving hearts unite.

Score: 10

Now I can at least imagine exactly what Holden meant by "David Copperfield haze." Indeed, mud. Forgive me, fans of Dickens, but how I tormented this book - I haven’t read anything with such a creak and gnashing of teeth for a long time. And God knows, if it were not for the St. Petersburg-Kyiv train, in which there is nothing more to do for a day anyway ...

Let's start with the fact that this book can teach young linguists. How NOT to translate. Because I have not seen such a disgusting translation for a very long time. I didn’t compare it with the original, but I have a clear feeling that this is a banal tracing paper from the original, word for word translation, while maintaining a completely unnatural English construction of sentences in Russian. Even where there is a similar fixed expression in Russian, which would be both shorter and prettier, Lann and Krivtsova prefer a word-for-word translation. I remember the only pearl - "The hut of happiness is better than the Palace of cold luxury, and where there is love, everything is there." Apparently, high religious beliefs did not allow the pirivodcheks to write something like “with a sweet paradise and in a hut”

As a result, literally the following happened: most of the text is “extra water”. What looks rather short and succinct in English, when translated word by word into Russian, spreads out, becomes a terrible furious bureaucrat, long periods. Honestly, I read the text diagonally. And at the same time, it seems that she didn’t lose anything at all, but even gained (or at least retained the remnants of her nerves).

Separate moments - when the translators are trying to convey some kind of emotion - are the worst. Because where Dickens, judging by the plot, should be love, friendship, sympathy, tenderness, and so on. - translators produce such disgusting snot in sugar that it seems that it was not Dickens who wrote it, but Dolores Umbridge. It all sounds too pathetic and unnatural.

In general, IMHO, as far as you can kill a book with a translation, this translation killed it so much. I hope translators burn in hell forever

As for the novel itself (which can hardly be seen behind such a terrible text), it is, in general, a fairly ordinary novel-education. And, in my opinion, quite boring and drawn out. True, here it is already difficult to distinguish where the boundary of the responsibility of the author, and where - the translators. I was especially embarrassed by the author's manner, for no reason at all, jumping over fairly long periods of time. Like, fell in love, got married, lived together - it's all long and detailed. And then one short shot: once the wife died. An excellent move, it’s tempting to ask about justify, although what kind of life is there - it’s generally a strange thing. But these sudden abbreviations of the text - I won’t call it otherwise - were somehow very knocked out.

Moreover, perhaps the most interesting characters were just the main villains - Uriah Heep and Rose Dartle. At least they are not touchingly plush and not endowed with the Dorian Gray crown of beauty and meanness, like some others. Lively and vicious, which is much more true than the "noble poor" of the Peggotty family. Yes, I'm an angry old cynic, but this whole line makes me dull annoyance. Only Dora is more infuriating, but Dora is generally a diagnosis. Lord, Dickens managed to perfectly bring out what is called “blandingo” in the modern world, and so clearly - I don’t remember such a vivid image of this type in literature)

In general, it's hard for me to say something about the plot. Biography and biography. The path of the hero, as they say, from rags to riches, which very revealingly ends with the hero acquiring a stable financial position and acquiring a family, and all the ill-wishers he met on his life path are defeated in the dust. Not that it is completely unreliable, but somehow it is accentuated too much, it causes a smile rather than a sincere belief that "vengeance is mine, and I will repay." The beginning, about childhood, was terribly boring, perhaps the most interesting period concerns Steerforth (or whatever it is?) and the beginning of a career. All IMHO, of course. It turned out to be a very typical portrait in the interior, and I won’t say that it’s somehow entertaining.

Score: 4

So much magic in this book! Truly, this is Dickens' best novel and one of the best novels of the 19th century. in which culture and literature became available to many. Dickens is a humanist and romantic, a bit of a gloomy mystic, poet and word wizard. The novel is full of marvelous images, descriptions of nature and the city, the seasons and the elements. Wonderful, musical, colorful descriptions of the shores of the sea, littered with shells (I recall Newton at the end of his life), the roads along which David wanders at the beginning and end of the book, rain and storms in the city and the sea, cozy rooms and cute knick-knacks, the house in which he lives Jeep. The author paints almost all the heroes of the novel with bright colors. Some of them remain completely obscure. This, of course, is Steerforth, haughty and unkind, but also capable of displays of friendship, and Mr. Dick, who, perhaps, chose the role of the blessed of his own free will. Uriah Hip is very bright, especially in his frank speeches in the exposure scene, and even at the end of the book, already in prison. Perhaps his true antagonist is not David, but Mr. Dick, who brings kindness and peace and a smile. He is especially remarkable in the words about Dr. Strong: “He is so modest, so modest, he condescends even to poor Dick, who is weak in mind and knows nothing. I wrote his name on a piece of paper and sent a kite with a string when he was in the sky, among the larks. The kite was so happy to receive it, sir, and the skies just got brighter!” In these words, we can see a kind of appeal and appeal to heaven, but in a special language accessible to a few. You can recall the story of L.N. Tolstoy about three elders with their words: "three of you, three of us ..." One of the most touching heroes of the novel is Dora. A heavenly flower, a beautiful aloy from The Time Machine, which for some reason ended up on earth. A poor and beautiful girl-wife who, with infinite wisdom, asked Agnes to take her place. These and many other heroes of the novel deserve to be played on the screen and in the theater by the best actors. The novel, in general, is very good for film adaptation, staging in the theater and, probably, musicalization (staged as a musical). Excellent internal monologues of the protagonist, his internal wanderings in his soul. It's a little scary when you read and understand his thoughts about Dora. It's a pity that David never explained himself to Steerforth. Of course, I don't mean another slap in the face. There is not so much sentimentality in the novel as it might at first seem. And this is not a parenting novel. It can be called a novel of human development and change. And you can also see England in it, which the author is very proud of, but also sees its shortcomings well. The translation of Krivtsova and Lann is also excellent. Thanks to the author and translators for the pleasure I got from reading the novel. Undoubtedly, I will return to it more than once.

Score: 10

Dickens, good old Dickens! Where would we be without your beautiful novels, without those role models that you unobtrusively bring out in them, without this idea of ​​\u200b\u200bgood honest people that we can all be ...

I can't put into words how much I loved David Copperfield! It has everything: wonderful bright living characters who instantly become your friends; dramatic events that make you sob excitedly; subtle humor - not the one from which you laugh while rolling on the bed, but causing a constant cheerful smile of joy; exciting adventures; and, of course, the final, where everyone gets what they deserve.

If you choose your favorite character, then it will be Grandma Trotwood. "Janet! Donkeys! And the most annoying, all of a sudden, Dora - wow, how she pissed me off! I certainly agree that it is better to be a kind fool than a smart bitch, but not the same phenomenal idiot who does not want to think about anything at all !!! She said the only worthwhile phrase in her life about the future of their marriage ...

The story of Dr. and Mrs. Strong is extremely instructive. The soul ached for them, and both of them are the best spouses.

So far, this is the best I've read by Dickens, and definitely goes to the shelf of my favorite books.

Score: 10

There are books that you enjoy reading in style and style more than what is going on in the text. The feeling is as pleasant as it is ambiguous if you try to describe it. Of all the books I've read, two made me feel this way, and one of them was David Copperfield. I'm not sure, perhaps if the author had written not about the life of an interesting character, surrounded by wonderfully written characters and equally carefully drawn events, but simply a set of descriptions of the countryside or his working day, it would still be fascinating to read. I think if this feeling of style arises, then the book is for you.

Disadvantages are present. The story itself is not very realistic, although the hardships that the author sends to the heroes are not at all fantastic. The beginning did not seem long to me, but in the finale, the incomprehensible stupor of the hero begins to strain.

And what is most interesting is that David himself, for all his positivity, is only an observer, and not an arbiter of justice.

Score: 10

Dickens is a truly great writer, one of the titans of world literature, his name is on a par with Shakespeare, Goethe, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky ... And this book is perhaps his best - of those that everyone who can read should read.

Score: 10

"The life of David Copperfield, as told by himself" in two books by Charles Dickens - plus another novel in my piggy bank (although I don't even remember why I decided to read it).

They wrote that, in part, this is his biography, but the truth is, only partially, or rather, some points coincide, because. I then, still, read a brief biography of Dickens.

The novel is written in such a text that it is pleasant to read, but ... I (this is my personal opinion) is not very interesting, or rather, not even interesting (double negative), there is interest, otherwise I would not have read it, but it does not capture. Everything is very drawn out, the hero thinks a lot about his life, many dialogues are "stretched" ... probably, this is some kind of special style of writing - "Dickensian".

So the story is told in first person. The fate of the boy is not the most rosy, he has to go through losses, experiences and suffering at a young age. And all the significant people in the boy's fate, as he grows up, take part in a series of events that lead to a rather interesting plot plot, albeit a little drawn out. The climax and denouement of the plot take place already when the boy has grown up and turned out to be a wonderful gentleman.

Such a sample of 19th century novels, I'm glad I read it and have some understanding of English culture, already to a greater extent.

Score: 8

One must accept both the good and the bad. That is what he must learn in this life.

Thorny and long is my path in the work of Charles Dickens. My problem is that nothing puts you to sleep like branching and sweeping descriptions of everything and everything. Seriously, manufacturers of sleeping pills nervously smoke on the sidelines, because as soon as Dickens is taken into the hands, the apartment is filled with iridescent snoring. But with what attitude I undertake it! Of course, there are also successful books, completely absorbing and enveloping, that you forget about time and are sincerely surprised that day has changed night. Strangely, I avoided David Copperfield so diligently, which is my fatal mistake. I think, although I will not say with certainty, I should have started my acquaintance with this particular novel, but let's move away from such a voluminous introductory word and move on to the book itself.

David Copperfield is one of Dickens' most famous novels. His favorite. A kind of autobiography. There are so many people in David's life that it was frustrating (well, I can't remember names, especially if they just glimpsed across the page). Fyodor Dostoevsky and Leo Tolstoy admired the novel, not surprised, because this couple are still lovers of writing long novels with a heartbreaking plot and colorful characters. But we are not talking about them now, because I want to figure out what is so special about David Copperfield.

Perhaps I should immediately warn that our GG did not make such a strong impression on me as on many others. Of course, David's life was difficult, but as he grew older, there was nothing in him that would make him more interesting ... I don’t know how to put it right, but his life can be called smooth, only a small storm at the beginning, and then he just got comfortable.

David's marriage to Dora (fucking violet) was so immature that she soon became a burden to him. In general, Dora is a separate topic for conversation. You still have to look for such a stupid creature, although I am surprised that it is different now. Dora is so vulnerable and impressionable that, probably, if she had farted in the toilet, she would have fainted for another two hours from such a shameful act. In short, as soon as this lady began to appear in the novel, one could stupidly turn the pages, because in addition to the cute and cute thoughts and speeches, uttered now from David, now from Dora, one could drown in this love syrup. And this is considering that I hate this kind of thing in books.

The novel is filled with characters. But the brightest, in my opinion, and the best part of him is Betsy Trotwood, David's grandmother. I liked the old lady. Bet's position, her views on life, were the most sober and worthy of attention. Her attitude towards marriage alone deserves applause!

4. David is not just a hero, but also an observer of ongoing events.

Score: 9