It's going to take time to write a proper post about this one - which I loved, thank you very much - but I have to say one thing right now -
I've always heard about Miss Havisham. I've heard tons of references to Miss Havisham and I inferred that she was a mean old lady who (for some reason this next part sticks in my memory) stands at the top of a grand staircase and shouts instructions for all to obey. Well sir, there's more to Miss Havisham than that and honesty compels me to report that there are no stairs involved. I don't want to spoil her for you, but if I were to address Miss Havisham I think I would say, "Dude, you are not the first person to be disappointed, that's all I'm sayin'."
Me: Mr. Dickens, you write so poignantly. I will not deny that there may have been a tear or two in my eyes, nor even that I cried so much I went though a whole packet of kleenex, you know the cute little ones that fit in your purse?
Mr. Dickens: I see. I hope I will not appear churlish, Madam, if I note that it took you some time to complete this particular novel?
Me: Yeah, I was really hoping you wouldn't notice that.
Mr Dickens: Yet you read The Great Gatsby quite quickly and that Fitzgerald is a hack. What does he know from metaphor?! And did he spend years watching children in the workhouse, knowing their fate and feeling powerless to change it?
Me: But it did change! And part of that was because of your writing! There were lots of people who didn't understand the plight of children and you brought it to the forefront. Well done, you. Oh and for the record, Gatsby wasn't published until you had been... how shall we say it... deceased? for more than fifty years.
Mr. Dickens: Yet you're having a conversation with me.