Criminality Quotes - Oliver Twist | Oliver Twist - Summary, Themes & Characters - Novels PDF Download

"What a fine thing capital punishment is! Dead men never repent; dead men never bring awkward stories to light. The prospect of the gallows, too, makes them hardy and bold. Ah, it’s a fine thing for the trade! Five of them strung up in a row, and none left to play booty or turn white-livered!" (9.9)

Fagin’s reflection on capital punishment shows another way that the system of institutionalized control just permeates society. Is capital punishment actually a good motivator for criminals? In Oliver Twist, the fear of being hanged makes members of Fagin’s gang betray each other, more often than not. Fagin still thinks he can stay one step ahead of all of them. This is Fagin’s version of the old "dead men tell no tales" line. And, of course, to "turn white-livered" means to lose courage and turn yourself (or your fellow criminals) in to the authorities. So this speech is ironic on a couple of levels: first, it’s clearly the opposite of what the author (and, presumably, the reader) believes about capital punishment. Second, it’s dramatic irony – we know that Fagin will eventually be betrayed and turned in to the police himself.

"Stop thief! stop thief!" There is a human passion for hunting something deeply implanted in the human breast. One wretched, breathless child, panting with exhaustion, terror in his looks, agony in his eye, large drops of perspiration streaming down his face, strains every nerve to make head upon his pursuers; and as they follow on his track, and gain upon him every instant, they hail his decreasing strength with still louder shouts, and whoop and scream with joy "Stop thief!" – Ay, stop him for God’s sake, were it only in mercy! (10.21)

This is another of those moments when the mob gets dehumanized. The whole crowd of people chasing Oliver isn’t a group of individuals, but a mass of instinct, with the common desire to hunt and pursue. It makes the crowd seem savage and wild, and almost like animals, doesn’t it? And Dickens suggests that that urge is common to every "human breast." Ick. We don’t like to think that we’d join an angry mob trying to tackle a nine-year-old in the street, but Dickens sure thinks we would. And that description of the mob is in the present tense ("There is a human passion…"), which makes the scene seem very immediate, as well as more universal. Finally Dickens steps in as a narrator, talking to the characters in the book and telling them how to behave. And the effect of that? It also makes the chase seem more immediate – he’s telling them to "stop him!" right now.

When the Dodger and his accomplished friend Master Bates joined in the hue and cry which was raised at Oliver’s heels, in consequence of their executing an illegal conveyance of Mr. Brownlow’s personal property, as hath been already described with great perspicuity in a foregoing chapter. (12.1)

Dickens uses all these big words to sound almost legalistic. It’s an ironic reminder of how legal jargon can be used to justify what is, in effect, stealing. If you cover over crimes with all these fancy words, will it still be illegal?

[…] overpowered by the conviction of the bystanders that he was really the hardened little wretch he was described to be, what could one poor child do? (15.63)

This passage suggests that you become what people think you are – you can be "overpowered" by the opinions of other people. So if you treat someone like a criminal, they become a criminal? That’s an interesting take on where criminal behavior comes from.

"He’ll come to be scragged, won’t he?"

"I don’t know what that means," replied Oliver, looking round.

"Something in this way, old feller," said Charley. As he said it, Master Bates caught up an end of his neckerchief, and, holding it erect in the air, dropped his head on his shoulder, and jerked a curious sound through his teeth, thereby indicating, by a lively pantomimic representation that scragging and hanging were one and the same thing. (18.39-41)

Oliver doesn’t know cant, or criminal’s slang – but neither do we. We’re in the same position as Oliver, here – in need of a translator. And Charley is so obliging as to throw in a little pantomime to go along with his translation.

But what about Dickens’s language, here? He describes Charley’s pantomime with very precise, almost journalistic detail, as though he’s just a detached observer who doesn’t know what’s going on, either. Why would he do that? Is he trying to distance himself from the criminals who know cant? But we know he knows the slang – he’s the one writing it. What else could he be up to here?

In short, the wily old Jew had the boy in his toils; and, having prepared his mind by solitude and gloom to prefer any society to the companionship of his own sad thoughts in such a dreary place, was now slowly instilling into his soul the poison which he hoped would blacken it and change its hue for ever. (18.58)

If this is a novel that asks questions about where criminal behavior comes from, this passage pretty much says it all – it comes from loneliness (because Oliver would "prefer any society to the companionship of his own sad thoughts"), bad environment (he’s in a "dreary place"), and deliberate corruption (the "poison" that will "blacken" his soul). If those are the three requirements for turning a person into a criminal, Oliver’s outlook sure is bleak right now. Why is it that he isn’t poisoned, anyway?

It was a history of the lives and trials of great criminals, and the pages were soiled and thumbed with use. […] The descriptions were so vivid and real, that the sallow pages seemed to turn red with gore, […] In a paroxysm of fear the boy closed the book and thrust it from him. (20.16-17)

Oliver can’t stand reading criminal biographies? That seems pretty odd in a novel that was inspired by some of those very same criminal biographies. The difference is in how you react to them. Reading over them and being inspired to do the same – to imitate the crimes you read about – is obviously bad. Oliver’s response (to "thrust" the book away in "fear") is the only civilized response.

This was far from being a place of doubtful character, for it had long been known as the residence of none but low and desperate ruffians, who, under various pretences of living by their labour, subsisted chiefly on plunder and crime. (38.3)

This is another instance of a house or a neighborhood being personified – the place where Mr. and Mrs. Bumble are going to meet Monks is described as having "character," which is obviously something we usually attribute only to people. It’s as though the "characters" who inhabit the houses along the river (the "low and desperate ruffians") have somehow infected the place where they live with their criminality.

"[…] ’cause nobody will never know half of what he was. How will he stand in the Newgate Calendar? P’raps not be there at all. Oh, my eye, my eye, wot a blow it is!" (43.35)

Charley’s an example of the bad kind of reader of criminal biographies. He was one of the ones who made Fagin’s copy of the Newgate Calendar (see quotation above) "thumbed with use." He reads the collections of criminal biographies, and dreams of becoming notorious enough to be included in later editions, and is depressed at the thought that the Dodger might not make it into the Newgate Calendar because he was arrested for such a petty crime.