CHAPTER 14 Great Expectations


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IT is a most miserable thing to feel ashamed of home. There may be black ingratitude in the thing, and the punishment may be retributive and well deserved; but, that it is a miserable thing, I can testify.

Home had never been a very pleasant place to me, because of my sister's temper. But, Joe had sanctified it, and I had believed in it. I had believed in the best parlour as a most elegant saloon; I had believed in the front door, as a mysterious portal of the Temple of State whose solemn opening was attended with a sacri- fice of roast fowls; I had believed in the kitchen as a chaste though not magnificent apartment; I had believed in the forge as the glow- ing road to manhood and independence. Within a single year, all this was changed. Now, it was all coarse and common, and I would not have had Miss Havisham and Estella see it on any accoun t.

How much of my ungracious condition of mind may have been my own fault, how much Miss Havisham's, how much my sister's, is now of no moment to me or to any one. The change was made in me; the thing was done. Well or ill done, excusably or in- excusably, it was done.

Once it had seemed to me that when I should at last roll up my shirt-sleeves and go into the forge, Joe's 'prentice, I should be dis- tinguished and happy. Now the reality was in my hold, I only felt that I was dusty with the dust of small coal, and that I had a weight upon my daily remembrance to which the anvil was a feather. There have been occasions in my later life (I suppose as in most lives) when I have felt for a time as if a thick curtain had fallen on all its interest and romance, to shut me out from anything save dull endurance any more. Never has that curtain dropped so heavy and blank, as when my way in life lay stretched out straight before me through the newly-entered road of apprenticeship to Joe.

I remember that at a later period of my `time,' I used to stand about the churchyard on Sunday evenings when night was falling, comparing my own perspective with the windy marsh view, and making out some likeness between them by thinking how flat and low both were, and how on both there came an unknown way and a dark mist and then the sea. I was quite as dejected on the first working-day of my apprenticeship as in that after-time; but I am glad to know that I never breathed a murmur to Joe while my indentures lasted. It is about the only thing I am glad to know of myself in that connection.

For, though it includes what I proceed to add, all the merit of what I proceed to add was Joe's. It was not because I was faithful, but because Joe was faithful, that I never ran away and went for a soldier or a sailor. It was not because I had a strong sense of the virtue of industry, but because Joe had a strong sense of the virtue of industry, that I worked with tolerable zeal against the grain. lt is not possible to know how far the influence of any amiable honest-headed duty-doing man flies out into the world; but it is very possible to know how it has touched one's self in going by, and I know right well, that any good that intermixed itself with my apprenticeship came of plain contented Joe, and not of rest- lessly aspiring discontented me.

What I wanted, who can say? How can I say, when I never knew? What I dreaded was, that in some unlucky hour I, being at my grimiest and commonest, should lift up my eyes and see Estella looking in at one of the wooden windows of the forge. I was haunted by the fear that she would, sooner or later, find me out, with a black fuce and hands, doing the coarsest part of my work, and would exult over me and despise me. Often after dark, when I was pulling the bellows for Joe, and we were singing Old Clem, and when the thought how we used to sing it at Miss Havisham's would seem to show me Estella's face in the fire, with her pretty hair fluttering in the wind and her eyes scorning me, -- often at such a time I would look towards those panels of black night in the wall which the wooden windows then were, and would fancy that I saw her just drawing her fuce away, and would believe that she had come at last.

After that, when we went in to supper, the place and the meal would have a more homely look than ever, and I would feel more ashamed of home than ever, in my own ungracious breast.

Frequently Asked Questions about CHAPTER 14 from Great Expectations

What happens in Chapter 14 of Great Expectations?

Chapter 14 is a reflective, introspective chapter in which Pip describes his misery during his early apprenticeship at Joe's forge. Rather than advancing the plot with new events, the chapter focuses on Pip's internal transformation. He confesses that everything he once valued about his home — the parlour, the kitchen, the forge itself — now seems "coarse and common" after his visits to Satis House. Despite his unhappiness, Pip never complains to Joe, and he credits Joe's quiet faithfulness, not his own virtue, for keeping him at his work. The chapter ends with Pip revealing his deepest fear: that Estella might one day appear at the forge window and see him at his dirtiest and most common.

Why is Pip ashamed of his home in Chapter 14?

Pip's shame stems from the dramatic shift in his perspective caused by his visits to Miss Havisham's Satis House. Before meeting Estella and experiencing the world of the upper class, Pip had been content — he believed in the parlour as elegant, the kitchen as respectable, and the forge as "the glowing road to manhood and independence." After his exposure to wealth and refinement, however, these same surroundings now appear crude and beneath him. Dickens emphasizes that this transformation happened rapidly, "within a single year," and that Pip himself recognizes his feelings as ungracious, yet cannot overcome them.

What role does Joe play in Chapter 14 of Great Expectations?

Joe serves as the moral center and stabilizing force in Chapter 14, even though he barely appears directly. Pip openly credits Joe with every good quality in his own conduct during the apprenticeship. It was not Pip's faithfulness but Joe's faithfulness that prevented him from running away; it was not Pip's sense of industry but Joe's that kept him working. Dickens uses Pip's mature narration to elevate Joe as an "amiable honest-headed duty-doing man" whose positive influence radiates outward in ways that cannot be fully measured. Joe's goodness is presented as selfless and natural, contrasting sharply with Pip's restless, self-centered discontent.

What is the significance of Estella's face in the fire in Chapter 14?

Near the end of the chapter, Pip describes seeing Estella's face in the forge fire while pulling the bellows and singing "Old Clem" with Joe. This vivid image is significant on multiple levels. It reveals that Estella has become an internalized judge whose imagined presence haunts Pip even in her absence — her "pretty hair fluttering in the wind and her eyes scorning me." The fire imagery also connects Estella to the forge itself, suggesting that Pip's shame about his work and his obsession with Estella are inseparable. He even imagines seeing her face withdrawing from the dark window panels, blurring the line between memory, fear, and hallucination. This passage foreshadows how Estella's influence will continue to drive Pip's ambitions throughout the novel.

What literary devices does Dickens use in Chapter 14 of Great Expectations?

Dickens employs several notable literary devices in this chapter. Anaphora — the repetition of "I had believed in" — catalogs everything Pip once valued about his home, creating a rhythmic sense of accumulated loss. Retrospective narration allows the older Pip to comment on his younger self with both sympathy and moral judgment, producing a layered narrative voice. The chapter features striking imagery and contrast, particularly the opposition between the warm forge fire and the "panels of black night" at the windows, and the metaphor comparing Pip's bleak prospects to the flat, windswept marshes with their "unknown way and a dark mist and then the sea." Dickens also uses irony, as Pip acknowledges that his supposed virtues during the apprenticeship were actually Joe's, not his own.

 

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