“Umble” Vampirism: Socioeconomic Scapegoats and David Copperfield

The narrative framing of David Copperfield is oriented in a way that ignores the flaws of its titular hero. Dickens’ autobiographical David Copperfield is compounded to entertain readers. His social mobility refines their perception of David into a middle class gentleman who is neither aristocratic, nor working class. It is David’s narration which helps facilitate such a companionship between himself and the reader, clouding any serious criticisms behind the guise of his charm. The doubling of bias layered within the novel’s narrative structure thereby poses David as a sort-of golden boy. That is, Dickens’ adoration for his protagonist, coupled with David’s egocentric point of view, convince the reader of David’s innocence. Though he is not an objectively horrible man, David frequently remains willfully ignorant to the plights of those around him. Only when he feels threatened does he consider said plights, and in these cases his considerations are coded in fairy-tale-like criticisms of their appearance, manners, and “station”—a term David is undeniably fascinated by. I argue this is David’s way of rejecting the socioeconomic identity that has been superimposed onto him. In separating himself from these seemingly monstrous figures of the working class, David effectively establishes himself as an aristocrat. As a way of exploring David’s narrative bias, this paper focuses on his nemesis, Uriah Heep. As doppelganger to Copperfield, Uriah represents the hard work associated with the proletariat. To be sure, Uriah certainly practices immoral and shady behavior; however, the novel portrays these practices as a presumed, naturalized aspect of his nature, attributed specifically to his seemingly inappropriate social mobility. Like David, he grows up without a true father figure, leaving his family in financial turmoil. Thus, once again mimetic of David, he is forced into the work force as a means of survival. Their differences are highlighted once David actively ignores the working-class identity associated to his socioeconomic status. He outright rejects this identification, instead assuming the role of an aristocrat under the guardianship of Aunt Betsey and Mr. Dick. This rejection in turn forms an abjection of Uriah’s identity, casting him and the proletariat into the undefinably horrific Other. Thus, within David and Uriah’s relationship lies a consideration of the middle-class that unveils cannibalistic mechanisms within the core of middle class identity formation; as this new, perhaps confused, socioeconomic identity grows in population, it simultaneously shrinks in contempt of itself. The novel stakes this claim by juxtaposing David and Uriah upon one another—its plot is reliant on supposing Uriah as a criminal. Both men effectively represent the same plights of Britain’s working class; however, David ascends the societal ladder, seemingly finding a means of escape from his labor. On the other hand, Uriah is continuously buried under the charismatic bourgeoise boys-club within Mr. Wickfield’s firm. Stated simply, Uriah must contend with the tyranny of capitalism, whereas David is afforded the opportunity of being an eccentric, working class aristocrat. Seemingly due to his likable and charismatic nature, David, rejecting his comrade, would rather deny his status as a middle-class laborer than take pride in it.