Dombey and Son (1846–1848) by Charles Dickens was published during profound economic and social upheaval, political instability, and changes affecting every layer of society. The novel is not an exhaustive document on the condition of England, nor even of London, which plays a role within it; nor does it present itself as a “social” novel in the same way as Hard Times. However, while Dickens does perceive the forces at play—the emergence of new values, the dangers of a relentless pursuit of money, this Mammon of the modern age—his response remains deeply artistic.
It is difficult to separate what he condemns from what he admires: on one hand, the society represented by Dombey is lifeless; on the other, Solomon Gills’s shop, “The Wooden Midshipman,” a quasi-pastoral haven of peace and innocent happiness, is economically outdated and only saved from bankruptcy through the providential intervention of the very investments that are being critiqued.
The novel also devotes considerable attention to the condition of women, which it explores—often symbolically—through various aspects: family relationships, motherhood, and domestic virtues. Its ideal, frequently expressed in earlier novels, remains the “angel in the house” embodied by Florence, though some critics have questioned this framework and given more importance to the sexual dimension of femininity.
A changing environment
As A. J. Cockshut writes, Dombey and Son, “perhaps the first major English novel to concern itself with industrial society […] stands apart from Dickens’s other works, and even more so from those of the time, in that it is steeped in the atmosphere of the decade it depicts—the 1840s, the age of railway mania.”
It is, above all, a “London book,” with the city acting as the hub of economic development through the influence its power has acquired. Dickens depicts the city’s sprawl as destructive to the human community, fostering isolation and separation; however, unlike Bleak House, for example, he does not dwell on the sordid aspects of the capital, the slum districts and bricklayers’ housing, the stench of cemeteries, etc. Instead, he evokes various neighborhoods, each with its distinct atmosphere: Portland Place, where Mr. Dombey resides, imposes with its silence and sadness; Princess’s Place, home to Miss Tox and Major Bagstock, belongs to the shabby genteel, fallen, and impoverished but obsessed with the Regency lifestyle, a taste and refinement they can no longer afford. In stark contrast lies “The Wooden Midshipman,” a symbol of “Old England” (Olde England or Merry Olde England), a still-vibrant utopia of pastoral and bucolic peace. Then come the suburbs already familiar in Dickens’s work: Staggs’s Gardens, where the Toodles live and where Good Mrs. Brown lurks in her den, as well as Harriet Carker in her modest home.
However, London has transformed into a modern Babylon where the unemployed poor flock, and as chapter 33 states, they “feed the hospitals, the cemeteries, the prisons, the river, the fevers, the madness, the vice and the death—all doomed, all in thrall to the distant roaring monster.” Moreover, the urban landscape is being disrupted by railway construction to such an extent that Staggs’s Gardens, having suffered “the shock of an earthquake,” now resembles a large disjointed body, disemboweled and gaping open. Yet, despite the mutilations it inflicts, the intrusion of the railway also symbolizes the arrival of a new civilization marked by wealth: proof of this is that Mr. Toodle, once a stoker—an unskilled laborer in charge of feeding the massive coal boiler—has been promoted to locomotive engineer.
A shaken society Like many of Dickens’s novels, Dombey and Son offers a panoramic view of urban society, but within it are signs of profound structural evolution.
Decline of certain social classes Some traditional social classes appear to be in decline, particularly the small tradesmen like Solomon Gills or the new poor of the old order, most notably represented by Miss Tox.
The latter, despite a remnant of outward grandeur, lives in a “dingy tenement” with furnishings reminiscent of the “braids and powdered wigs” she nostalgically longs for—particularly a plate-warmer perched on four arched, wobbly legs, a dated harpsichord decorated with a garland of sweet peas, all steeped in a musty odor that clings to the visitor’s throat. Miss Tox, scorned by Mr. Dombey and Mrs. Chick for her poverty, embodies a certain kind of aristocracy stubbornly fixated on the past—now ruined, yet constantly in pursuit of fortunate marriages.
Such is the case with Mrs. Skewton, who sells her daughter as if at an auction, Edith offering, in exchange for money, the dual privilege of birth and social status. This evokes practices already well established in the 18th century, as illustrated by William Hogarth’s famous six-painting series Marriage à la Mode.
Likewise, Cousin Feenix (Lord Cousin Feenix), Edith Granger’s relative who takes her in after she flees the Dombey household, represents another grotesque figure of the aristocracy: the impoverished nobleman, unable to maintain his rank in the crumbling ancestral home, yet quick to sniff out a good deal. He rushes from Baden-Baden, exclaiming in Chapter 3: “When you’ve truly got a rich city chap in the family, you’ve got to show him some attention—let’s do something for him!” This somewhat deranged cousin foreshadows the “idiot cousin” in Bleak House, the ultimate sign of the degeneration of a declining aristocracy.
The rise of the moneyed bourgeoisie The rise of the moneyed bourgeoisie of this period marks a departure from the merchants and shopkeepers of the 18th century, whose wealth was grounded in Puritan values such as thrift, hard work, and self-help—that is, reliance on one’s own efforts. In this context, a new form of capitalism emerges, exemplified by figures such as Mr. Dombey: enriched through speculation and investment, he enjoys a social status secured by his assets and displayed in the lavishness of his lifestyle, awaiting only the validation of an upper-class marriage. Carker the Manager similarly exhibits characteristics associated with this new class of businessmen: emotional coldness, strict self-control, and resolute ambition. Both characters place high value on material wealth and possess a strong sense of superiority, often viewing those they consider socially inferior—particularly members of the working class—with disdain.
The latter—meaning the working class—is scarcely represented in the novel, all the more so as characters like the Toodles, Susan Nipper, Captain Cuttle, and Mrs. MacStinger do not truly represent social types, but rather fall into the category of so-called "humour characters," that is, figures defined by a single trait, most often comic or eccentric. Even the Toodles, despite all their kindness, fail to convince from a realist perspective: they are too generous, too devoted, too loving, and also too servile toward hierarchy—in short, they resemble many of the workers Dickens describes.
Their goodness serves as a counterbalance to Dombey's ever-present coldness, which stiffens into a kind of comic glaciation. This emotional frigidity, however—unlike that of old Scrooge in A Christmas Carol—does not appear to have any etiological root in childhood: while it is not natural, it nonetheless seems to come to him naturally. It is as though Dombey, enslaved to his temperament and sustained by his pride, ruled over an England in his image—frozen by an almost universal absence of compassion. In this sense, writes Elizabeth Gitter, he becomes “an emblematic figure of a pre-bourgeois order, a synecdoche of the desolate world he inhabits.”
Emergence of new values
In this society, money reigns supreme and seems to have given rise to a new system of values, each as negative as the next. Family and human relationships are devalued to the level of mere conveniences: proof of this is Mr. Dombey’s reaction when considering the possible death of his wife—“he would regret it, and he would feel that something would be gone, something that had taken its place among the plates and furniture and all the other worthwhile household possessions, such that losing it could only cause regret.” Similarly, when he hires Polly as a nursemaid, he forbids any emotional bond with the child she is to breastfeed, for, he says, “it is merely a transaction.” To complete the dehumanization, he erases her name and, as was done with slaves, assigns her a surname with no first name, typically reserved for domestic servants.
The secondary characters orbiting around him are also driven by the same selfishness: Major Bagstock, Mrs. Skewton, Mrs. Pipchin, and Mrs. Chick are all motivated by greed, competitiveness, and indifference to the well-being of others. As E. D. H. Johnson writes, the world of “Dombeyism” is nothing more than “a cynical economic system engendering all the vices and cruelties of society.”
As a result, Dombey and Son has been seen as depicting a Mammonist world where wealth corrupts even the most traditionally sacred things, as illustrated in chapters 5, 18, 31, and 57 by scenes taking place in the perpetually darkened grey church, from which emanate only an icy cold, musty dampness, and suffocating dust. In this regard, unlike A Christmas Carol, a socio-economic fantasy, the novel becomes a true study of the urban utilitarianism of the all-powerful business circle, where charityCharity is mocked through the portrayal of fanatical philanthropists, such as Mrs. Jellyby and Mrs. Pardiggle, in Bleak House. is no longer anything but a business like any other—one that must be profitable and, to achieve that, crushes the very people it is supposed to help.The term grinders, which includes grind ("to crush, grind"), refers to the charitable residents of hospices so poorly fed that they are reduced to grinding bones for sustenance.
The stripping of the individual Dombey and Son illustrates the process of alienation and reification of the individual, now reduced to a mere commodity.
Alienation and reification In the aforementioned article, E. D. H. Johnson points out that “Dickens’s mature novels offer the first example of a reified world, where people have become objects—controlled or manipulated, bought or sold.” Judging by Dombey’s relationship with his first wife, the bargaining that governs the arrangement of his second marriage, and the fragility of friendships that are just as easily formed as broken—between Dombey and Bagstock, Mrs. Chick and Miss Tox, for example—society has become a soulless exchange market where people are juggled like stocks and bonds. In this world, the supreme value is no longer quality but quantity, and individuals are diminished or enhanced as losses or profits. Thus, in chapter 36, it reads: “The next arrival was a bank director reputed to be capable of buying anything—human nature in general—if ever he decided to influence the exchange rates in that direction.”
From pathetic fallacy to synecdoche and reduction To make this degradation tangible, Dickens resorts to several devices, the first being what John Ruskin called the pathetic fallacy: thus, the dark “coldness” of the Dombey household, the “gloomy” greyness of the church. Furthermore, the reification of individuals often serves as a means of characterization; people are described, even named, by their attributes—often non-human ones: Dombey’s stiff cravat, his loud pocket watch, his conspicuous gold chain, his creaking leather boots; Carker’s teeth, reminiscent both of a cat and a shark.