A Tale of Two Cities

A Tale of Two Cities indeed! The first two parts of this three-part text, located in England for the most part are a slow read. The book has a very strange pacing to it. It threatens to be interesting only to peter out, and its narrative simmers but never quite gets going until the final third, when the narrative focus switches primarily to Paris. And what a final third it is.

My early impressions of this book, which continued well into the second segment, were that although the characters were memorable, they appeared a little two-dimensional, although the plot was potentially very interesting, it wasn't quite going anywhere, and that the writing actually got in the way of these two strengths. The book simply felt overwritten; it was bloated with extraneous detail of menial events (The mail chiefly comes to mind, amongst other affairs), and my cynicism was drawn to the fact that Dickens was paid accordingly as each instalment was made available.

Having said that, these criticisms cannot be levelled at the final segment of the text, and the sparse flourishes of beautiful prose which just about kept me going through the middle of the text are much more regular; one suddenly understands why this is a ‘classic'. Furthermore, the characters possess more clarity, more of an identity in fact, and the plot quickens to make up for the earlier slack. It reads like a much more refined book.

A Tale of Two Cities is an inconsistent novel capable of menial and delectable prose in equal excess, but persevere. It is more than worth your time. The closing pages are some of the best you will read.