In defence of Esther Summerson

1/ As a narrator:

Compared to the omniscient narrator, Esther is more straightforward, her sentences are less complex, and she only rarely adopts free indirect speech whereas the omniscient narrator does often and speaks in a great range of voices. But Esther is a very funny writer—a lot of the grotesque images I have picked out are from her narrative. And she’s a very good writer, very visual.  

For example: 

“When the house was out of sight, I sat, with my bird-cage in the straw at my feet, forward on the low seat to look out of the high window, watching the frosty trees, that were like beautiful pieces of spar, and the fields all smooth and white with last night's snow, and the sun, so red but yielding so little heat, and the ice, dark like metal where the skaters and sliders had brushed the snow away.” (Ch.3) 

That is when Esther, aged 14, leaves her godmother’s house and her life is taking a new turn. 

Or: 

“It was a cold, wild night, and the trees shuddered in the wind. The rain had been thick and heavy all day, and with little intermission for many days. None was falling just then, however. The sky had partly cleared, but was very gloomy—even above us, where a few stars were shining. In the north and north-west, where the sun had set three hours before, there was a pale dead light both beautiful and awful; and into it long sullen lines of cloud waved up like a sea stricken immovable as it was heaving. Towards London a lurid glare overhung the whole dark waste, and the contrast between these two lights, and the fancy which the redder light engendered of an unearthly fire, gleaming on all the unseen buildings of the city and on all the faces of its many thousands of wondering inhabitants, was as solemn as might be.

I had no thought that night—none, I am quite sure—of what was soon to happen to me. But I have always remembered since that when we had stopped at the garden-gate to look up at the sky, and when we went upon our way, I had for a moment an undefinable impression of myself as being something different from what I then was. I know it was then and there that I had it. I have ever since connected the feeling with that spot and time and with everything associated with that spot and time, to the distant voices in the town, the barking of a dog, and the sound of wheels coming down the miry hill.” (Ch.31) 

Because this is a novel by Dickens and not by Nabokov, Esther is a reliable narrator. But I’d like to mention 3 things I find interesting. 

First of all, as a narrator, Esther is very secretive about her romantic feelings, which of course suits her reserved nature. Because she’s not at all open about Allan Woodcourt, we barely see him until a few last sections of the novel, when he appears in the other narrative. It’s also interesting to note what she doesn’t know, such as Mr Jarndyce knowing her feelings better than she does. I love Dickens’s decision to have a first-person narrator and an omniscient narrator, and can’t help marveling at the masterful way he switches between the two. 

Secondly, everyone would perhaps notice that whenever Esther is present in a scene, it’s narrated by her, which means that we only know how other characters behave towards Esther from Esther. However, there are moments in the other narrative where we may see what other characters think about her, such as chapter 46, when Jenny finally comes across Jo, tells him about Esther’s illness, and they talk about her. 

Thirdly, there is one time where Esther narrates two scenes in which she isn’t present: chapter 51, when Allan Woodcourt sees Mr Vholes (the vampiric lawyer) to get the address and then visits Richard. 

2/ As a character: 

Esther Summerson is, in a few ways, a cousin to Fanny Price (Mansfield Park), just funnier. As Fanny Price is Jane Austen’s least popular heroine, I believe Esther suffers a similar reception, and as with Fanny Price, I think the criticism of Esther is generally due to misunderstanding, if not lack of empathy. 

This passage is the key to her character: 

“[My godmother] checked me, however, as I was about to depart from her—so frozen as I was!—and added this, "Submission, self-denial, diligent work, are the preparations for a life begun with such a shadow on it. You are different from other children, Esther, because you were not born, like them, in common sinfulness and wrath. You are set apart."

I went up to my room, and crept to bed, and laid my doll's cheek against mine wet with tears, and holding that solitary friend upon my bosom, cried myself to sleep. Imperfect as my understanding of my sorrow was, I knew that I had brought no joy at any time to anybody's heart and that I was to no one upon earth what Dolly was to me.

Dear, dear, to think how much time we passed alone together afterwards, and how often I repeated to the doll the story of my birthday and confided to her that I would try as hard as ever I could to repair the fault I had been born with (of which I confessedly felt guilty and yet innocent) and would strive as I grew up to be industrious, contented, and kind-hearted and to do some good to some one, and win some love to myself if I could.” (Ch.3)

As far as I’m aware, some readers complain that Esther is too good, too cloying, too passive, too modest, and so on and so forth. They seem to forget that Esther grows up having it drummed into her ears that her existence is a disgrace and that she shouldn’t have been born. They seem to forget that, even worse than Fanny Price’s situation, Esther doesn’t know her parents and is entirely dependent on her godmother’s tolerance of her. They seem to forget that, without the kindness of Mr Jarndyce, she could easily be on the streets, like Jo, and she is grateful because he doesn’t have to help her. They seem to forget that Esther can see the poverty and suffering of other people, and knows herself to be fortunate. She knows what it’s like to be without love, and knows how invaluable love and kindness are.

Like Fanny Price, Esther is quiet but not naïve. She notices everything, and can judge character. She’s sharp and perceptive. To some extent, she is passive, though I’m not sure what critics expect her to do. She becomes more self-assured over time and does take things into her own hands, however. For example, she’s the one who decides to take the sick Jo home, despite the risks, and stays firm, despite Mr Skimpole. When she learns the secret, she herself decides to see Mr Guppy and tells him to stay out of it. She also decides to speak to Mr Skimpole near the end of the book, telling him not to go to Richard’s house and make him poorer, and rebuking him for betraying Mr Jarndyce. It is perhaps her decision that she doesn’t see Mr Skimpole again after that conversation. 

There are also many little moments when Esther makes up her mind to do something, or advises someone to do something. She’s the one who tells Caddy and Prince to announce the engagement to their parents. She’s the one who actively helps with the wedding, and stays firm with Mrs Jellyby. And she’s always firm and straightforward with Richard and Ada.

What more do people want? 

I have now finished reading Bleak House, after more than 3 weeks. It’s one of the greatest novels of all time, perhaps Dickens’s finest achievement.