Our Mutual Friend: Irony 5 key examples

Riderhood’s idiom traces its origins to Genesis, in which God condemns Adam to grow his own food by the “sweat of your brow” after he eats from the Tree of Knowledge. As the human couple gets banished from Eden, the saying suggests labor and self-reliance. It is an appeal to honest work and a consequence of disobedience.

The expression becomes Riderhood’s calling card through the remainder of the novel. In classic Dickensian caricature, the self-declared “honest fellow” professes that he lives off “the sweat of my brow” at almost every opportunity. And yet, for his nagging lip service to hard, honest labor, Riderhood ironically does very little of it himself. In all likelihood, he speaks more than he actually sweats. The fabulist concocts lies to incriminate Gaffer Hexam and leeches off Bradley Headstone. Riderhood’s work—if any—consists mostly of devising strategies for blackmail.

Riderhood’s ironic twist on the biblical allusion suggestively attacks England, corrupted and “fallen” itself. The waterside scavenger joins an entire class of other characters—Silas Wegg, Fledgeby, and Mr. Lammle, for instance—who would rather dream of wealth rather than commit themselves to any genuine, meaningful labor.

Jenny’s “child” internalizes an ironic if initially confusing role reversal: the child with the lame leg ends up caring for the father who struggles to even keep his money in his pockets. Hardly an adult yet, she must discipline her own alcoholic parent. In a novel that makes children of parents, and parents of children, Jenny’s responsibilities raise awareness of the difficult realities of lower-class children in this upside-down world. They die, like Johnny, leave for school, or tend to their parents. Jenny’s relationship with her befuddled father mirrors that of her own housemate, Lizzie, who stays behind to tend Gaffer Hexam.

By giving his children greater sense than the adults, Dickens invests them with the power to correct and outlive the previous generation’s failings. Pleasant Riderhood outlives her father’s greedy snitching, just as John Harmon reverses Mr. Harmon’s mean meagerness. Books 3 and 4 of Our Mutual Friend follow an arc of redemption. Respectively named “A long lane” and “A turning,” they subvert the proverbial saying that “a long lane has no turning”—namely, that bad situations do not get better. In the next generation the novel finds a literal “turning” and a source for new hope.

The irony of the Lammles’ dilemma lies in its sheer misinterpretation. Book 1, Chapter 10 previously revealed to the reader that neither husband nor wife actually owns any property—frauds attract frauds, and both Mr. and Mrs. Lammle find themselves victims of their own schemes. But the charade, once started, goes on. London’s high society assumes that the Lammles’ many house-purchasing “disappointments” stem from high tastes rather than cash-strapped finances. Their poverty gets misinterpreted instead as a sign of overwhelming wealth.

Dickens extends this irony to satirical proportions. The reader knows, but the others don’t. In fact, the couple’s elite acquaintances are so mistaken that they envy the Lammles for their nonexistent “palatial residence.” The newlyweds create for themselves a “shining little reputation” and lofty expectations that send their friends to shame. Possessing no property of their own, they even inspire dissatisfaction among those who do. The Lammles’ new home goes the way of the emperor’s new clothes.

Through this irony, Dickens attacks all sides of upper-class society. He condemns the shallow judgment of its members and—even more—the nerve of its imposters. The novel strikes a reactionary stance amid the rise of a newly moneyed class, criticizing them through a couple that is all style and no substance.

Rokesmith’s humiliation exploits ironies situational and dramatic. Bella—unaware of his true identity—scoffs at his marriage proposal, finding him too far below her newly elevated status. As a young lady exalted to fortune’s dizzying heights, her “other views in life” exclude union with a lowly household secretary. But by revealing Rokesmith’s identity to the reader, Dickens manages to secure his audience’s emotional investment. This secretly disclosed knowledge only makes the mis-recognition all the more painful. The reader, who “knows,” cannot help but feel a prick of indignation on Rokesmith’s behalf.

Readerly secrets notwithstanding, Bella’s rejection is as much an instance of situational irony. Through her needy gripes and self-regard, Dickens reveals the destructive consequences of material greed. Bella’s single-minded pursuit of “money, money, money” in this scene actually leads her to overlook the novel’s wealthiest man. Her gold-digging spirit blindsides and does not benefit her. Bella’s unmerited arrogance closes her off from the true sources of wealth around her. By emphasizing Bella’s shortcomings with these double ironies, the novel sets the stage for her spiritual development.

Here, Fledgeby hides his exploitation in plain sight. This far into the novel, the reader knows that Fledgeby uses Riah to solicit the payments to his own company. But before his two bewildered guests, he smears his own loyal servant. The greedy “Fox” draws upon anti-Semitic stereotypes to cast Riah as an unprincipled interest-collector. Under his account, the dignified old man gets twisted into a shameless financial predator.

The exploitation is two-fold in its injustice: Fledgeby not only forces Riah to the drudgery of scrip-collecting, but he spares his own reputation through a vicious campaign of slander. In the span of two consecutive chapters, Fledgeby singlehandedly escapes scrutiny from Twemlow, Jenny, and Mrs. Lammle with his lies. Dickens intensifies the reader’s awareness of brutal wrongdoing.

In many ways, Pubsey and Co. is an operation of dramatic irony at large. Fledgeby uses the company name and Riah as cover for his own usury schemes. He lives off lies and underscores the shifting appearances of the upper class. In a world where servants are made masters and the good portrayed as evil, Dickens exposes the dangerous fictions that abuse and oppress.