Society was aware of Mr and Mrs Merdle. Society had said ‘Let us license them; let us know them.
The Merdles and Sparkler
Mr Merdle was immensely rich; a man of prodigious enterprise; a Midas without the ears, who turned all he touched to gold. He was in everything good, from banking to building. He was in Parliament, of course. He was in the City, necessarily. He was Chairman of this, Trustee of that, President of the other. The weightiest of men had said to projectors, ‘Now, what name have you got? Have you got Merdle?’ And, the reply being in the negative, had said, ‘Then I won’t look at you.’
This great and fortunate man had provided that extensive bosom which required so much room to be unfeeling enough in, with a nest of crimson and gold some fifteen years before. It was not a bosom to repose upon, but it was a capital bosom to hang jewels upon. Mr Merdle wanted something to hang jewels upon, and he bought it for the purpose. Storr and Mortimer might have married on the same speculation.
Like all his other speculations, it was sound and successful. The jewels showed to the richest advantage. The bosom moving in Society with the jewels displayed upon it, attracted general admiration. Society approving, Mr Merdle was satisfied. He was the most disinterested of men,–did everything for Society, and got as little for himself out of all his gain and care, as a man might. – Charles Dickens, Book the First: Poverty, Chapter 21: Mr Merdle’s Complaint
Mr. Merdle kisses Fanny's hand
For those who have not read the book or seen the last installment, spoilers ahead:
The Merdles take front and center stage at the start of the last installment of PBS Masterpiece Classic’s Little Dorrit, fulfilling the promises that this film’s theme of bankruptcy and fallen fortunes is a relevant one in today’s world. Mr. Merdle, played by Anton Lesser, was the Man of the Age. He made money for his investors seemingly out of thin air and they loved him for it. Yet Mr. Merdle (the last name is a play on the French word Merde, meaning shit) seemed to be chronically unhappy, despite his showy wife, elegant house, and sterling reputation. The viewer soon learns what had been keeping him preoccupied: he was stealing from one fund to pay for another (shades of Bernard Madoff), and issuing shares without collatoral. His house of cards tumbled down, and along with it, all his investors. Instead of facing the consequences, Merdle committed suicide with a pen knife he has borrowed from his daughter-in-law Fanny. To deaden the pain of stabbing his jugular vein with a blunt knive, he drank laudanum, leaving others to literally clean up his messes. Merdle’s demise affected a score of people, but except for the money they lost and their uncertain financial future, his wife, daughter-in-law and stepson did not seem greatly affected by his suicide. Fanny wondered when her pen knife would be returned and the butler took off soon after learning that the family was bankrupt, leaving his post without notice. With a few deft touches, Charles Dickens showed how quickly the mighty can fall and that the world really doesn’t give a shit except in the instance where it is affected.
Anton Lesser and Nick Jones as Mr. Merdle and his butler
Most people could and still can lose other people’s money without much conscience, but during this and the Regency era debt was considered to be a matter of honor (would that it was today). Social historian Eric Hobsbawm argued that “Bankruptcy was, according to economic theory, the penalty of inefficient businessmen, and its spectre haunts the novels of Victorian England.” (Victorian Web) Mounting debts affected people in different ways. George Brummel fled to France in 1817 rather than face debtor’s prison when he fell out of favor with the Prince Regent and could not repay his creditors. He was not the only gentleman to flee to the continent due to insolvency. The cost of gambling, bad investments, horses, carriages, fine food and a decent wardrobe could tip a modest – even a great – fortune over the edge. Other individuals, like William Dorrit and Arthur Clennam, were sent to debtor’s prison. Some chose suicide, like Mr. Merdle, leaving their families to face the consequences.
Bath house where Merdle committed suicide
The tale of Little Dorrit is not only based on Dicken’s personal experience of watching his father incarcerated in the Marshalsea, but the novel is also set against the backdrop of real bank failures:
Little Dorrit was originally published between 1855 and 1857 (many of Dickens’ works first appeared in serial form) at a time when the collapse of the Royal British Bank was receiving much publicity. The collapse was a result of the bank having channelled most of its capital into Welsh gold mines in the vain hope the Wales would prove to be the next California. (The discoveries which sparked the California Gold Rush had been made in 1848). After the bank’s collapse it was discovered that the directors had made secret loans to themselves and their friends.
Dickens used the preface to Little Dorrit to defend what he called “that extravagant conception, Mr. Merdle, by alluding to “a certain Irish bank” – the Tipperary Bank which failed in 1857 – and he also mentioned “the curious coincidence” that the public examination of the former directors of the Royal British Bank took place when he was finishing the book. – The Financial Fiction Genre
Arthur and Amy on their wedding day
After losing his and his partner’s investments in Merdle’s schemes, Arthur Clennam (Matthew Mcfadyen) went willingly to the Marshalsea instead of escaping his obligations. After his debts were paid he settled for a “modest life of usefulness and happiness” by marrying Amy Dorrit (Claire Foy).
More links:
- Read my other Little Dorrit reviews, starting with Little Dorrit and the Grand Tour
- Read more on the topic at these links:
Missed an episode? Watch episodes online at this link through May 3rd.
A happy ending after all
Jane Austen's World 
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I just finished watching this last night and absolutely adored it. The only thing I wasn’t overly fond of was the green moss-like splashes of color throughout the series – on the walls, etc. I knew why it was there but it always took me out of the moment.
Otherwise I really thought it was an amazing production. It brought me to tears quite a few times – Amy, young John, finally Arthur. But I love having my heart wrung out like that.
I enjoyed it, too, but I am confused. Are Arthur and Amy half-siblings? Did one marry one’s half-sibling in that age?
I’m pretty sure I understood they were cousins, but I got lost in the explanation of everyone’s “true” identity last night…I need to re-watch the conclusion. If someone could speak to Pam’s question that would be much appreciated!! :) Thanks in advance!
Two commenters brought this same question up on one of my blogs, and I just received the email notification of the comments (I can’t access Xanga at work or I’d chime in on the conversation). Here’s the reply Chelsea2209 left on my blog answering essentially the same question posed by Pam –
No, she is not a Clennan, thanks goodness, or she would be conducting an incestuous relationship with Arthur.
Arthur’s real mother is a dancer with whom Mr. Clennan had an illicit relationship. He was taken from his real mother and given to Mr. Clennan’s cruel wife, who pretended he was hers. Meanwhile, Mr. Clennan’s own father received a letter from the baby Arthur’s real mother, and he was upset ath the pain suffered by the poor woman. She died before anything could be done to help her directly, but in her name, a bequest was made to a poor infant born the same day that she died–and, as it happened, that baby was Amy Dorrit, born in the Marshallsea Prison. This is how Arthur’s and Amy’s fate became entwined although, of course, neither knew — Mr. Clennan took the secret of the money meant for Amy to his grave, and Mrs. Clennan certainly did not see it in her interest to tell. Giving Amy a job as a seamstress was her way of acting in small (very small) measure on the debt, and Arthur was right to sense a secret.
I too ended last night’s final episode in confusion. I taped it and even re-watched the part were Mrs. Clennan supposedly explains who the children are. I thought I had missed something but still couldn’t decipher it. Having never read the book, the relationship between Amy and Arthur was bumbled at the end. Needless to say I had to read a summary today and all the pieces came together. It all could have been explained so wonderfully by the characters themselves.
Thank heavens. I tried to read the text of the book on another website, but it, too, was confusing. The writers of the Masterpiece Theater piece did a poor job of explaining their connection (or non-relationship). I watched that segment twice today online and still thought they were half-siblings. Thanks!
Good job with the explanation, Ruth! Even as one who’s read the book, I know that part was difficult to follow.
For those interested, I compared the movie and the book explanations here:
http://dickensblog.typepad.com/dickensblog/2009/04/the-clennam-family-secret-faqs.html
[…] Little Dorrit and Bankruptcy: PBS Masterpiece Classic Society was aware of Mr and Mrs Merdle. Society had said ‘Let us license them; let us know them. Mr Merdle was […] […]
Ruth is correct except for 2 words…Marshalsea and Clennam. Her explanation is very good!
Finally watched the conclusion last night and was reduced to tears when John Chivery (the terrific Russell Tovey) just rips in to the clueless Arthur about his love for Amy and how he’s had to suffer unrequited love in the same way that Amy had to suffer unrequited love for Arthur. A stunning scene….
Thanks to Ruth for the explanation, it actually makes sense now! :-)
Yes, thank you for the explanation, Ruth. Henry, I agree about Russell Tovey and placed my opinions about his wonderful interpretation of John Chivery on my other blog, Jane Austen Today.
Thank you joining WWTTA, Vic. Have you any preference for a “focus” book (which Austen novel would you prefer?) or critical one? It’d help if I knew that. Also shall we have a movie too? If so, which one? I like commentaries as well as the apparently faithful and free adapation.
On your blog on _Little Dorrit_, I find that Davies is at long last beginning to change. He doesn’t seem to change much, but if you look at this early _Middlemarch_ and say the 1995 _P&P_ in the latter he adds a lot by inventing incidents occuring between the chapters of the novel which are not there. He doesn’t in the _Middlemarch_. Now in this one he was more conservative again I gather, only changing the depiction of the characters. So Tattycoran and Miss Wade are implict lesbians, but his determination to include all the characters and hinge points in such a short adaptation has made for confusions in those who haven’t read or don’t remember the book very well (I’m in the latter category).
By contrast, in the recent _S&S_, he has moved considerably away from attempts at apparently literal fidelity to commentary and really into freedom at times. Not like Edzard’s _Little Dorrit_ (she just eliminated characters and concentrated on central presences), which he would not do lest he lose his audience, but still breaking away continually through less obvious techniques of presentation.
He does tend to hide who he imitates much more than others, but in _S&S_ we could see it was Emma Thompson & Ang Lee’s movie.
Nontheless, I’m going to buy myself his Davies’s Daniel Deronda too. Ian Miller over on livejournal has persuaded me. I want to see how that goes. I’ve read _DD_ and also listened to it read aloud so I will be able to see.
Ellen
I just wanted to chime in with a big THANKS to Ruth for clarifying Arthur and Amy’s biological (actually non-biological, fortunately) relationship. I couldn’t imagine that they were half-siblings but couldn’t figure out any other ending based on the last episode, even after searching the internet for quite a while after I first saw it. It’s amazing that the producers, directors, etc. didn’t see that gaping hole in the ending. Anyway, thanks again!
I just found this site and I think some folks have posted an unfair statement about the writers of Little Dorrit. I had watched the last episode and did not have any difficulty understanding the relationship. I think that most people, like me, had attempted to figure out the secret prior to a full explanation and while hearing the explanation along with our wheels turning in our head, got a bit confused. It happens.
To everyone who said thanks, you’re welcome, and I have to pass that on to the person who left the great explanation on my other blog!
I, too, was glad to have the episode taped just to clear up a LOT of things. However, I did not believe Arthur and Amy were related – having seen the first episode and remembering Arthur’s saying that he was so much older than Amy – duh! Great series – love to see it again for the first time!
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. The writers definitely left the relationship unclear and this helped so much. I watched the ending twice and did not have a clue.