As was the case discussed in class and previous blog posts for Horatio Alger's Ragged Dick, the lightheartedness and genuine uplifting writing found throughout the book is a somewhat interesting change from the usual gloomy, pessimistic, or even defeatist tones common in many genre-defining stories. However, now that I have been presented a story absent of the stereotypical twists and turns of difficulty found within so many novels and stories, particularly of the modern era, I feel like I'm beginning to see why these sorts of snags are included. Ragged Dick, by comparison to so many other novels covering a similar "Rags to Riches" plot line, falls remarkably short of anything satisfying, or even remotely constructive by my interpretation. The characters are shallow, the issues within the plot never really pose a true problem, and the moral is dubiously helpful at best. I wasn't expecting a tragic down-turn of events or sudden devastating moment in a children's story, necessarily, but even by young adult fiction standards the entirety of Ragged Dick strikes distinctly hollow.
Starting with the characters, so many of the characters are exactly as they are presented at face value, with no deeper characteristics at all. Relating to Alcott's writing as a contrast, we see complex characters based in reality with flaws and struggles we can all find relation to. Alcott's writing, while still not necessarily my favorite thing I've ever read, at least establishes enough depth to make the seemingly perfect Beth a boring character by contrast. Ragged Dick, on the other hand, seems full of prototypical Beths. Dick's flaws may as well be nonexistent; the author goes out of the way to establish them from the start, stating "I have mentioned Dick's faults and defects, because I want it understood, to begin with, that I don't consider him a model boy." (17-18) All things considered, having a generic child-like attraction to nice things that might cost a little isn't exactly a damning condemnation. By the same measure, even smoking and gambling were far more minor to the period this was written than now, and even in the modern context I barely even consider those exactly villainous. Unhealthy, yes, but not necessarily a detraction of character. Had Alger not taken the time to explicitly write these out, I likely would not have even realized Dick had flaws in the first place.
Aside from the brief mention in Chapter 8, these flaws are never exactly revisited. The short story of lying about Queen Victoria's assassination stood out as one of the few times anything remotely mean-spirited came from Dick, and even that was fairly minor. It was made all the more simplified by the insistence in the conversation of: "I never stole, ... It's mean and I wouldn't do it." (87) While admirable, it strikes as remarkably two-dimensional, especially when paired with a lack of any other sorts of flaws. Worse yet, this leads into my major complaint with the book: The moral and the lack of any real problems.
Perhaps I could look over Ragged Dick's utter lack of flaws and the complete straightforwardness to which the kindness of Frank or the meanness of Mickey Maguire is painted out, but that would have only been if the story was about Dick's virtues winning his rightful place in society. In fact, opening this book and knowing about the generic Alger story, I figured that would be what I'd find. Instead, the book falls flat on its way to an actual morally powerful story and instead offers a dubious moral at best. Dick's hard-working industriousness didn't even bring him into fortune. Instead, it was all thanks to Frank's generosity and the earnest reward of saving a drowning boy in a stroke of luck that brings Dick to prominence. Rather than following the generic American success story, luck and contacts bring the story to its end. One quote I found particularly telling was where Dick said in the conclusion "My lucky stars are shinin' pretty bright now. Jumpin' into the water pays better than shinin' boots" (290). Instead of being recognized by his hard work and moving up gradually, Dick is catapulted by the boundless kindness of a few lucky patrons he happened to run into, who all just so happen to be kind and honest as well as rich, just as flat and uninteresting as the usual character in the novel.
This is made all the clearer when Dick hints at the not-so-righteous rich in the world, noting "If everybody was like you and your uncle ... there would be some chance for poor people. If I was rich I'd try to help 'em along." In this paradoxical statement, Dick affirms that the rich of the world, the forces of capitalism which force people to be homeless on the street, do indeed exist as they do in the real world. But, instead of them being actively demonized, Dick's homelessness is instantaneously solved by the same forces which are, by proxy, responsible for his poverty. In fact, I found it particularly telling that the book ended with the new Richard Hunter losing his ragged clothing to Mickey Maguire, an event he notices with barely any care. In fact, he continues to say "It seemed to cut him off from the old vagabond life which he hoped never to resume. Henceforward he meant to press onward, and rise as high as possible." (294) Perhaps I am reading too much into this, but this doesn't strike me as a positive ending at all. Dick ends the story rich, intending to all but forget his beginnings as a vagabond. Rather than donate, even if it were to someone as antagonistic as Mickey Maguire, he aims only to climb higher. He mentions only slightly wanting to remember his old days, but less as a deep experience and more as a relief that he will never go back to them, as more a novelty than an actual background to himself.
Addison makes a set of very interesting points about Alger’s Ragged Dick. The book is indeed quite uplifting, with many not-so-subtle moral lessons for younger readers (the comparison of “frank, straight-forward” Dick to some of his “sly” companions (chapter 1) is in no way a veiled representation of moral standards). It has clear values: hard work, perseverance, frankness, and the avoidance of stealing and laziness. But, as Addison points out, despite this, the work still falls unsatisfactorily flat.
ReplyDeleteIn a way, Ragged Dick is similar to Aesop’s fables. As has already been stated, a clear moral standpoint is involved. At the end of every fable there is always a moral to the story. In addition to that, characters in fables are always black-and-white. There is little to no depth in any of them. The same goes for the characters in Ragged Dick, as Addison covers in the second paragraph of the post. Dick is, all in all, a near-perfect person. All of his “faults and defects” (chapter 1) are minor actions or vices which he promptly quits without difficulty once he decides to change his life. This is similar to fables, where the character learns their lesson and turns their life around, all for the better.
There is no problem with fables having clear morals and simple one-sided characters. But for a young adult fiction book such as Ragged Dick, that becomes a problem. Young children have to learn right from wrong and how to navigate life. But older children and young adults have life experience, so a story of a perfect boy’s unhindered transition from rags to respectability is not nearly as effective. There is no satisfaction from watching Dick continue to be a good boy and get rewarded time and time again. There is especially no satisfaction when he immediately turns his back on his past, instead determined to “rise as high as possible” (chapter 27). All in all, Ragged Dick is more like a fable than a novel for young adults, and, as Addison stated, it falls flat in many ways.