Voltaire to Dickens: A Sharp Turn on the Spectrum of Style

Moving directly into a new piece of literature from an old always comes with a brief transitional period. No two authors write in the same manner, and there is the settling in to the new rhythm that appears on each page. There is perhaps no greater example of this than the sharp change from Voltaire's short and snarky Candide to Dickens' long and emotional A Tale of Two Cities. 

Both are long time favorites of mine, and when the opportunity arose to read from a wide selection of literature, I was more than eager to revisit them and see what new details I could find. The two pieces are both powerful in portraying their messages, but upon finishing Voltaire's critically acclaimed novella, directly transitioning into Dickens' drawn out and descriptive prose proved to have a longer adjustment than expected. Where Voltaire is sharp and to the point, Dickens takes the longer route, ensuring that every detail is perfectly in place. Voltaire is fast paced and surface level with description and development, while Dickens is slow, drawing out the plot and pulling the reader in to the turbulent world of late 18th Century Europe.  Both offer commentary on society, but they are stark opposites in both specific opinion and approach.

The change is almost comical. The authors both have their share of unique touches, giving their works the charm required to stand the test of time in a community of the pickiest critics in the world. But where Candide wraps up in just 150 pages, A Tale of Two Cities requires more than double the length, and the atmosphere around the works themselves go from light and satirical to heavier with a large pull at the heartstrings. The list of differences between the works and their author's styles could go on endlessly, with opposite approaches at every corner, showing the poles of the style spectrum.

Being familiar with both pieces of literature, the significant difference was expected, at least to some degree. I was prepared to take on Dickens and his portrait of the era, coming off on a high after the always entertaining misadventures of Voltaire's painfully optimistic protagonist. The opening lines never fail to draw me in, with the details of the once glorious age of change described beautifully on the page. However, as the first few chapters go on, I found that I had more difficulty picking up on specific moments than I had when reading it previously, and that the pace dragged this time around, when I was once enthralled by every word. Looking back on the style of Candide, it is logical to expect this slight need for adjustment, with the first major catastrophe occurring before page twenty. It is interesting to me to ponder the reactions of one new to both works, who transitioned so quickly from one to the other. Would there be more difficulty in understanding the world of Dickens? How could the style of one author change how we look at other literature? Perhaps we should test and find out.