Mr. Bucket

As if the house weren’t bleak enough, now the cops are here. I found myself giving extra attention to Mr. Bucket in light of Mr. Garrett’s observation that the discomfort we feel at the detective’s methods and manner is a more modern reaction. It’s hard to imagine that this figure was meant to inspire admiration for his skills, when those skills involve so much deception- not to mention the fact that he works directly for the nefarious Tulkinghorn. But it is in the text, clearest when we get to Esther’s ride-along and see him so steadfastly engaged in the young lady’s interests. But I still can’t quite accept this character as a positive force (Maybe the last hundred pages will redeem him?). I’m sure Dickens mentioned whether or no Bucket has a beard, and there is likely a word or two on his stature, but his image is fixed in my mind as Vinnie Jones (Bulletproof Tony from the Guy Ritchie film, Snatch), and this is not just a convenient British stereotype. Mr. Bucket, though representative of law, is as much gangster as he is detective. We get our first taste in his interview with Snagsby: “‘Yes! and lookee here’, Mr. Snagsby, resumes Bucket, taking him aside by the arm , tapping him familiarly on the breast, and speaking in a confidential tone, ‘You’re a man of the world, and a man of business, and a man of sense. That’s what you are’” (356). Yes, Bucket is a skilled interrogator- no doubt at all, he always gets what he goes in for. But Dicken’s control of tone never lets Bucket rise to the nobility of the other ‘good’ characters in the novel. Bucket’s tone is authoritative, but in more of a jailhouse false-confidant way. Bucket is no Sherlock Holmes, standing aloof by the fireplace mantle, ‘rounding his sentences with the turn of his wrist’ (love this expression). Bucket closes intimate spaces directly, with no regard to class station, and he speaks in that intimidating combination of affected intimacy and assuming imperatives. The phrase “You’re a man of business” is flattery, but it is also threat. Bucket has a knack of complimenting all of those things his subject stands to lose by not doing exactly what Bucket suggests. Bucket is, “in the friendliest condition towards his species, and will drink with most of them. He is free with his money, affable in his manners, innocent in his conversation- but, through the placid stream of his life, there glides an under-current of forefinger” (803). Yes, yes- there is always that forefinger. Referred to several times as demonic, it’s hard not to envision it writing, in red lipstick, “REDRUM” on Lady Dedlock’s vanity when finally left alone in her room. This “demonic” quality of Bucket is the deciding factor, I believe. Bucket is, of course, awesome with his disguises and shocking ability to simply appear in closed rooms, but he is, for the purposes of the story, an agent, and as such he is for hire. He is paid for his services, by both Tulkinghorn and Leicester, and his services play no small role in the death of poor Jo, not to mention the premature incarceration of George. Dickens seems to be aware of the complicated nature of Bucket’s wow-factor. Bucket (at least his finger) is called the “familiar demon,” a “terrible avenger” (803). He is cop, gangster, and dark angel rolled into one.