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Writer's pictureDamsel

Review: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens


Genre: Classic

Series: Standalone

Page Count: 340 to 490 depending on the edition.

Publication Year: 1859

Publisher: Chapman & Hall

Special Notes: I listened to the audiobook narrated by Adam Henderson.

I did not listen to this Barnse & Noble edition; I just like the cover.

I joined the Goodreads group Old Books, New Readers for the read-along.


Summary: A romance; a revolution; a redemption.


I know this book is very popular and everyone seems to love it. I don’t. What can I say? Dickens’ writing style is not what I’d call conducive to a good reading experience. It reminds me of how I felt about The Brothers Karamazov (my review) where the concept is good, but not the execution. I know there’s a good story here; it’s just a bit buried among the paragraphs of dirty French streets and in the vaults of Tellson’s Bank.

I’ll admit the story made more sense after I watched a SparkNotes summary. I’d listened to the audiobook over the course of a month and I’d be doing other things while I listened, so certain details were missed or forgotten. Hearing a summary that hits the important parts and is under twenty minutes helped sharpen the plot and actually, for me, made it better.

There are some good parts in this book. I especially like the wine cask breaking and the ending.

But then there’s the storming of the Bastille, which came out of nowhere and ended just as suddenly. The whole spy angle went right by me. Even after the summary I’m still not sure how or if it was resolved. And the love-triangle of Lucie, Darnay and Carton is important but absolutely unbelievable.

I’ve said before how bad characters can be saved by a killer plot. But the characters here kinda are the story, and I didn’t like anyone.

I believe Dickens liked his colorful characters and they are on full display here. Between the quirky descriptions and way of talking, there are a wide variety of people to hear about. Unfortunately, none of them made a positive impact on me.

The banker Lorry sets things in motion when he meets Lucie to take her to her father. He’s everyone’s friend and helper. If I had to pick one, he’s the person I’d like to hear more about. Maybe a short story set in Tellson’s.

The Defarges are…this isn’t a spoiler is it? Nah, it’s fine. They’re the villains. Well, one of them is. Their motive isn’t revealed until near the end and it seems a little farfetched that their villainy is taken to such an extent. However their comeuppance is very satisfying.

Darnay is…is…is a wooden plank. I can’t tell you anything about him because he doesn’t have a character. His sole purpose is to love Lucie and get into heaps of trouble so someone else has to save him. He’s a plot device that happens to be a living body.

Carton is mildly better. He has his redemption arc to occupy his time; he also loves Lucie. His redemption is closely tied to his love for her but I don’t know what put him in the position for needing redemption. I think’s there’s something involving drinking and being depressed, but how Lucie has the power to instill such a lofty goal of bettering oneself is a mystery to me.

The issue with Lucie is that she’s supposed to be this embodiment of goodness and light but she has no personality. The whole time I’m wondering why anyone likes her, let alone loves her. Ooo, but she has pretty hair and is sweet and loving and more boring than a squashed cardboard box. Maybe she’s just how Dickens wrote his love interests. His women didn’t have to have personalities so long as they were pretty and had a delicate constitution. With how she’s presented, I’m surprised she survived giving birth. And yet everyone loves her because the plot demands it.

The description is okay, if a little long. The only parts that stick out are the wine cask and the introduction of Monseigneur. I especially like this sentence from the latter part: “The leprosy of unreality disfigured every human creature in attendance upon Monseigneur.”

The dialogue is fine too. All the character’s sound old-fashioned, which I tend to enjoy more than modern speech.

But if I hadn’t listened to the audiobook, I don’t think I would’ve made it through the book. The narrator’s accents add more enjoyment than I’d’ve found reading it myself. He made a style of writing I don’t really like, just interesting enough to keep me with the story. I may have zoned out at times, but it wasn’t his fault.

Why is this book such a beloved classic? Lack of options? Alright, let’s not be too cruel. I do wonder if the original publication format (newspaper segments over 31 weeks) had anything to do with why it’s still around. They had this bit of story releasing every week and it was something to get excited over and when it finished they wanted to share with others and it just stuck around.

In the end, just because a book is considered “classic,” doesn’t mean I feel the need to like it; this book is not my definition of great classic literature. The finale’s a bit sad but I’m not deeply affected by this story the way it’s written. Perhaps if John Steinbeck wrote it, I’d like it more.


Check out my rating here.



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