Novel - Mr. Timothy, by Louis Bayard

All children, no matter how sweet and innocent, must grow up. They must tear themselves away from their idealist views and accept that the world around them for what it is, even if it turns out to be gruesome and unforgiving. Some retain their innocence, but most become at least slightly affected by their new surroundings. This is what has happened to the famous 'Tiny' Tim Cratchit in Louis Bayard's novel, Mr. Timothy. No longer the endearing youth he was presented as in A Christmas Carol, the novel finds Tim in his early twenties, no trace of his disability remaining but for a slight limp. His parents deceased, Tim is alone on the streets of London, sheltered by a whore house and shadowed by the ghostly image of his father. More complications arise when he crosses paths with a young Italian girl, Philomela, a young inspiring singer, Colin, and becomes involved with a terrible underground operation that may result in Philomela's death.

A real highlight of this novel was its characterization. In first person novels, characterization is often twice as difficult than in third-person. The author doesn't have the advantage of omniscient description, and hearing the thoughts of many characters involved. The characters in this novel are so vivid that Tim's descriptions of them alone is enough to conjure a clear vision of them in a reader's mind. Tim himself is also a wonderfully dynamic character: he bursts into tears when confronted with sexual contact; he makes himself responsible for the wellbeing of Philomela and Colin even when the latter is unbearably annoying; he pushes himself out of his cripple stereotype and manages to save the day, with help from his Uncle Ebenezer.

The plot is twisting and alluring, albeit a bit difficult to follow at times. There are many false climaxes (perhaps too many) to keep readers on their toes. To those who enjoy fast and simple reads, this particular piece would definitely not appeal. Its story is complicated, and just when one thinks it must be ready to end, another problem arises. I found it frustrating at certain points, but once I was finished with the novel in its entirety, my opinion had changed, and I saw it as simply a plot device to create suspense.

Another positive element to watch for while reading this lovely novel are the descriptions. Tim describes his disability as, "not a limp but a lilt, a slight hesitation my right leg makes before greeting the pavement, a metrical shyness" and sees his unorthodox home in an odd sort of light, mentioning that fantasy, not necessarily sex, is "the prevailing trade". Bayard has a way with words that, several times throughout my reading, made me stop and say, "Wow, that was a good phrase! Why didn't I think of that?"

In short, Bayard's interpretation of such a classic character was fresh and new without being disrespectful to Dickens' original text.