Great Expectations--Part 2

I had thought not to finish this famous novel by Charles Dickens because of what I early perceived as its darkness of plot and setting and character of a number of its characters including its protagonist, Pip.  I, nevertheless, persisted and finished it.  It is the story of a prodigal who, over time, realized the folly and sham of his ‘great expectations’ and scarred and sick came back, a wiser man, to his roots. 

As noted previously, I appreciated its narrative technique, and, as I suspected and why I persisted, the triumph of good over evil. 

  

To me it showed the darkness and bonds into which one, even the good and innocent, can fall and become ensnared when captivated by the vain and vainglorious things of the world.  It also shows the cost of ignoring one’s conscience. 

 

We need to be very sure of our ‘great expectations’ or hopes and count the cost before we invest ourselves into anything that will not bring us and our loved ones the peace without regret that we all desire. 

  

The only legitimate reason to seek status or riches, is to “seek them for the intent to do good—to clothe the naked, and to feed the hungry, and to liberate the captive, and administer relief to the sick and the afflicted.” And the only person to legitimately do that, in this book, was not the supposed or even real ‘benefactor’ who provided money and false expectations to Pip, but Pip’s humble and good-to-the-bone stepfather Joe, the blacksmith.

I end with a short but very wise speech by this good man: “Pip, dear old chap, life is made of ever so many partings welded together . . . and one man’s a blacksmith, and one’s a whitesmith, and one’s a goldsmith. . . .  Divisions among such must come, and must be met as they come.  You and me is not two figures to be together in London; nor yet anywheres else, but what is private, and beknown, and understood among friends.  It ain’t that I am proud, but that I want to be right, as you shall never see me no more in these clothes.  I’m wrong in these clothes. I’m wrong out of the forge, the kitchen, or off the marshes.  You won’t find half so much fault in me supposing as if you should ever wish to see me [again if], you come and put your head in at the forge window and see Joe, the blacksmith, there at the old anvil, in the old burnt apron, sticking to the old work.” 

It is okay to have ‘great expectations’ and know what our true ‘work’ is,  but never compromise them at the expense of one’s character or integrity.  To thine own self—and one’s God—be true.