When Orlick maimed his sister,
Pip didn’t do much at all—
She’d always been a harridan
And she’d kept them both in thrall
Of her vile tongue and her temper—
Pip and dear old Joe
Were I think a bit relieved:
The woman had to go.
That book is full of characters
Who look like light relief
At first, but grow bigger and bigger,
And do things that beggar belief—
And Pip’s the worst, although of course
He doesn’t really do much at all—
He’s a man to whom things happen.
I’m amazed he has the gall
To tell us his horrible story,
Though being Dickens, it’s beautifully built,
With a generous measure of horror,
And lashings and lashings of guilt.
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