A blissful bicentennial birthday to the great Charles Dickens (7 February 1812–9 June 1870), above in 1860, looking like a man with a thousand characters in his head.
I discovered Dickens when I was in junior high, and I read his novels all through high school. Like most public schools in the 1970s, my high school didn’t bother with anything so mundane as teaching grammar or composition, but I learned everything I needed to know about writing between the covers of Dickens’ novels.
An elegant and mesmerizing writer, Dickens created the most diverse and engaging array of characters since Shakespeare. Those who know him only from A Christmas Carol barely know him, but even that showcases his sense of drama, of social justice, of psychological insight, of humor. The whole world—even our modern world—can be found in his books.
Today, on his bicentennial, the Prince of Wales will attend a special service at Westminster Abbey. It’s the least he deserves.
