FLATTERY IN NICHOLAS NICKLEBY Part Three
Nicholas Nickleby indulges in meaningless flattery with Matilda Price at the card table and needlessly angers two people. (Flattery nearly always has a negative effect on bystanders.) He learns his lesson, though, so while he plays a flirting game with Miss Snevellicci initially, Nicholas restrains himself before it can get out of hand ‘and placed so strict a guard upon his behaviour, that when he had taken his leave the ladies were unanimous in pronouncing him quite a monster of insensibility.’ (Nicholas’s character doesn’t change profoundly, but, as the novel progresses, he becomes far more wordly-wise.)
Nicholas uses flattery unselfishly and benignly. People constantly fish for compliments from him and he cheerfully complies. He flatters others in a good-humoured way—often making an exaggerated joke of it—with no ulterior motive. He’s also generous with sincere praise which springs to his lips unpremeditated.
Nicholas, when Fanny declares her love for him, doesn’t flatter her for his own advantage (‘many less scrupulous young gentlemen . . . would have encouraged her extravagance’), but makes a ‘particularly plain and straightforward declaration’ that is almost cruel in its brutal honesty.
Nicholas occasionally uses a clever cajoling technique: he praises someone for what they’re going to do. “If you ever have an opportunity of showing Kate some little kindness,” said Nicholas, presenting his hand, “I think you will.” Expressing such flattering confidence in a person’s good nature increases the chances of their performing the favour. Note also that Nicholas is using flattery here, as on other occasions, for someone else’s benefit.
People identify with the hero in a book and enjoy, secondhand, any compliments paid them. (Dick Francis is a prime practitioner of this technique. Other characters lavish praise on his central hero.) Nicholas receives many heartfelt tributes and the reader is gratified to hear him praised. “He has done it! . . .There ain’t such a young man as this in all London, not one. Don't tell me! The City can’t produce his equal. I challenge the City to do it!”
Nicholas to Charles Cheeryble, his soon-to-be employer: “Merely that your kind face and manner—both so unlike any I have ever seen—tempted me into an avowal, which, to any other stranger in this wilderness of London, I should not have dreamt of making”.
‘Rationalization’ is the term Freud used for a self-defence mechanism that’s used to bolster one’s self-esteem. ‘When a person does something of which the moral super ego disapproves, then the ego seeks to defend itself by adding reasons that make the action acceptable to the super ego. Thus we are able to do something that is outside our values and get away with it without feeling too guilty.’ Nicholas Nickleby is often castigated for its melodramatics but, in fact, it contains many brilliant psychological insights, as the following passage makes clear: ‘Asking himself such questions as these [‘Has not this excellent man a right to my best and heartiest services, and should any considerations of self deter me from rendering them?’], Nicholas mentally answered with great emphasis “No!” and, persuading [flattering] himself that he was a most conscientious and glorious martyr, nobly resolved to do what, if he had examined his own heart a little more carefully, he would have found he could not resist [i.e. go visiting the girl he loves]. Such is the sleight of hand by which we juggle with ourselves, and change our very weaknesses into stanch and most magnanimous virtues!’
Miss Knag regularly employs cajolery, but is still a sucker for it herself—such is flattery’s beguiling nature. Compliments about her supposed youth (and youthful appearance) are a particular area of weakness:
“O dear!” said Miss Knag; “but you must allow a great deal for inexperience, you know.”
“And youth?” inquired Madame.
“O, I say nothing about that, Madame Mantalini,” replied Miss Knag, reddening; “because if youth were any excuse, you wouldn’t have—”
“Quite so good a forewoman as I have, I suppose,” suggested Madame.
“Well I never did know anybody like you, Madame Mantalini,” rejoined Miss Knag most complacently, “and that’s the fact; for you know what one’s going to say, before it has time to rise to one’s lips. O, very good! Ha, ha, ha!”
In Victorian times, great stigma was attached to being an old maid (too unattractive to attract a man). Miss Knag, therefore, to overcome her self-esteem-lowering status, self-flatters herself: “And I never was more glad in all my life, that I had strength of mind to resist matrimonial offers, no matter how advantageous, than I am when I think of my present position as compared with your most unfortunate and most undeserved one, Madame Mantalini”.
Mr Knag is another self-flatterer: “The fact is, that he did find so much in the books he read, applicable to his own misfortunes, and did find himself in every respect so much like the heroes—because of course he is conscious of his own superiority . . . that he took to scorning everything, and became a genius.”
Tim Linkinwater praises hyperbolically. His commendations are never lukewarm, everything is always unequalled. “There’s not such a spring in England as the pump under the archway. There’s not such a view in England as the view out of my window”; “that there never were such books—never were such books! No, nor never will be such books—as the books of Cheeryble Brothers.”
Mr Lillyvick and the Kenwigses enjoy a symbiotic relationship. The Kenwigses suck up to pompous Mr Lillyvick and in return are promised legacies for their children. Successful flattery generally depends on the target not suspecting a motive, but, in this case, Mr Lillyvick understands the situation perfectly.
‘We love flattery, even though we are not deceived by it, because it shows that we are of importance enough to be courted.’- Emerson.
Spoilt by a diet of sycophancy, Mr Lillyvick, like Mrs Wittiterly, is unable to take criticism and reacts hysterically to the smallest slight. When Nicholas absconds with the punch, Mr Lillyvick is apoplectic:
‘Mr Kenwigs, not being skilful in such matters, only fanned the flame in attempting to extinguish it. “I didn't think of it, I am sure, sir,” said that gentleman. “I didn’t suppose that such a little thing as a glass of punch would have put you out of temper.”’ A skilful flatterer never suggests that someone is making a fuss over nothing! Only the combined blandishments of the entire company prevent Mr Lillyvick from storming off. “He’s more a angel than a man, and I’ve always said so.” That’s more like it . . .
“I should be glad to have somebody like me, somehow,” said Mr Lillyvick, “before I die.” Few things are more flattering than imitation.
Mr Lillyvick’s love for Henrietta Petowker calls forth such ‘ecstatic approbation’ that ‘Nicholas had much ado to prevent himself from laughing’. Lovers typically speak hyperbolically.
Mrs Kenwigs, instead of flattering herself, constantly flatters her children (“for such clever children, Mr Noggs, never were born into this world, I do believe.”) and to praise them, rather than her, is the best way to soften her heart.
She loves to provide extras for her children as it’s flattering to her family and likely to make her neighbours envious. “And when you go out in the streets, or elsewhere, I desire that you don’t boast of it to the other children,” said Mrs Kenwigs; “. . . don’t say no more than ‘We've got a private master comes to teach us at home, but we ain’t proud, because ma says it’s sinful.’”
Mrs Kenwigs is a far more accomplished cajoler than her husband: “I wouldn’t ask you, Mr Noggs,” said Mrs Kenwigs, “if I didn’t know what a good, kind-hearted creature you are,—no, not for worlds. I am a weak constitution, Mr Noggs, but my spirit would no more let me ask a favour where I thought there was a chance of its being refused, than it would let me submit to see my children trampled down and trod upon, by envy and lowness!” Try refusing that . . .
Mr Lumbey, the Kenwigs family doctor, knows which side his bread is buttered on: “It’s the finest boy I ever saw in all my life,” said the doctor. “I never saw such a baby”; ‘“That girl grows more like her mother every day,” said Mr Lumbey, suddenly stricken with an enthusiastic admiration of Morleena’.
Mr Bray is an example of someone who fails to praise when he should. His daughter, Madeline, selflessly slaves to support him but he takes her for granted and she receives not a word of thanks. Indeed, he proudly flatters himself on his ‘independence’.
Ralph: “[Mr Bray] is trying to deceive himself . . . making believe [rationalization] that he thinks of her good and not his own,—acting a virtuous part, and so considerate and affectionate, sir, that the daughter scarcely knew him.”
The central theme is also applicable to many other characters . . .
Note the unusual way in which the Old Lord is flattered by his young fiancée, how Miss Ledrook flatters Miss Snevellicci by teasing her, how Matilda Price brings the jealous John Browdie round by making a highly flattering to him, and derogatory to Nicholas, comparison between them (John: “I says, ‘efther thot, neame the day, and let’s have it ower!’ Ha! ha! ha!”) etc.
