Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Touring with my friend Elaine Marie Cooper



About The Promise of Deer Run: America’s war for freedom from England has been over for seven years, but the wounds of that conflict still haunt the minds and hearts of the residents of Deer Run. Young American veteran Nathaniel Stearns has withdrawn to a life of isolation as he awaits his father who never returned from the war. A near-tragedy in the woods brings Nathaniel face-to-face with nineteen-year-old Sarah Thomsen, someone he had long admired but he assumed had eyes for another. This chance encounter opens a crack into the door of his heart as mutual affection quickly blooms. But slander and lies soon mar the budding romance, rendering both Sarah and Nathaniel wounded and untrusting as their faith in both their God and each other is shattered. Set in 1790, this book continues the story of the Thomsen and Lowe families as they struggle to survive in the aftermath of the war that birthed the United States.

The Promise of Deer Run
ISBN: 9781462037964
Softcover: $16.95 ISBN: 9781462037971
Hardcover: $26.95 ISBN: 1462037968
E-book: $9.99 Released: August 16, 2011


In book one, The Road to Deer Run and now in the sequel, The Promise of Deer Run, I made every effort to stay true to the colonial times. Descriptions of food, homes, clothing, farming, worship practices, medical care, etc. are the result of extensive research. It has been a personally inspiring experience to write these novels. While the times have changed since the 18th century, the same struggles of their day are our own. Forgiveness, fear, pain, illness, despair, the pain of having a family member at war, the death of a loved one—these are all the battles we contend with in the 21st century. But we also share faith, laughter, love, the excitement of that first kiss, the wonder of looking at a newborn. These are the same joys that we share with our ancestors who are so much a part of who we are. Their journeys are interwoven with our own.


Leave a comment with your e-mail here by November 18 to be entered into a drawing for the following: Winner announced November 21, 2011.

Grand Prize (Retail Value: $297.38) Contains: • Basket • $25 Starbucks gift card • Spode Christmas teapot • Spode Christmas mugs • Yankee candle • Hardbound copy The Road to Deer Run • Hardbound copy The Promise of Deer Run • Bath and Body Paris Amour scent

ON THURSDAY, COME BACK TO READ THE STORY BEHIND THE STORY AND SEE THE TRAILER.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Classics Review of The Grand Inquisitor with Lorilyn Roberts


The Grand Inquisitor

by Fydor Dostoevsky

A Politically Incorrect Critique




The Grand Inquisitor by Fydor Dostoevsky is a parable in his novel, The Brothers Karamazov. The story takes place in Seville, Spain, during the time of the Inquisition, when heretics were routinely burned at the stake. The first time I read The Grand Inquisitor, I found it disturbing. There had been, according to Dostoevsky, during the sixteenth century, chatter among the masses about the fact that Christ had not returned, and many questioned if His miracles were real.

According to the parable, Christ came back once again, briefly, and appeared quietly in the midst of the people, healing those who came to Him. The crowds recognized Him and clambered to be near Him. Christ healed the blind and the needy bowed down to Him. But Christ was too good, too powerful, and the guards came and took Him away. The Inquisitor came to the Prisoner and asked, "Why, then, art Thou come to hinder us?"

There followed a conversation between the Prisoner and the Inquisitor which was disturbing. Christ’s thirty-three years on earth was distorted. The Inquisitor implied that Christ had failed at His mission; that He didn't set men free, for example, and therefore it fell on the church to set men free. According to the Inquisitor, freedom meant bondage. The Inquisitor believed that men couldn’t be free, that they needed to be told what to do, and the church saved the masses by forcing them to cower in submission.

The Inquisitor twisted the meaning of Christ's three temptations in the wilderness; speaking as if he (the Inquisitor) was Satan incarnate, using distorted logic with a kernel of truth when carried to its logical conclusion.

The parable encompassed more than a spiritual meaning and made a political statement; i.e., referencing the notorious conquerors of Timours and Ghenghis-Khan, who subdued men in the name of unity. The Inquisitor valued submission.

When one contemplates the ideology and the two choices presented in the parable—freedom versus bondage—and the Bolshevik Revolution that followed a few decades after Dostoevsky’s death, I wonder what Dostoevsky had in mind—who was The Grand Inquisitor? And surely he gave the Russian people more credit than what he opined. Did Dostoevsky not believe they could live in unity and freedom?

Was the great experiment of American democracy in the 1800’s not sufficient to persuade him? Or was he prophetic? Did he believe the populace would be unable to handle the same freedom if given it? Or was he equating the Inquisitor simply with the time of the Great Inquisition and the depravity of mankind; that even if Christ had returned again, He would have been rejected? Did he accuse men after sixteen centuries of being just as wicked, concluding that Christ had failed once again? Could one surmise that the Inquisitor was Satan himself?

I read The Brothers Karamazov to understand the context in which the parable was written. The parable was told by Ivan, an intellectual, to his Christian mystic brother, Alyosha. Alyosha, in my opinion, was too weak, but represented a moderating influence on the otherwise dark story that covered much of the book.

Toward the end of the parable, Alyosha stated to Ivan, "You don't believe in God." Those who don't believe in God take the most loving aspects of Christ—His salvation and death on the cross—and belittle it. Perhaps Alyosha was comparing his brother to The Grand Inquisitor. Alyosha kissed his brother Ivan on the lips, reminiscent of Judas's betrayal of Jesus with a kiss. But representing the opposite meaning—a feeble attempt at best.

Dostoevsky referenced the Masons in a less than glamorous way, accusing them of possessing the same "mystery," perhaps in conflict with the Catholics' pursuit of unity.  

Dostoyevsky raised more questions than he answered. I felt a sense of hopelessness in the parable. Perhaps if Alyosha was more assertive and less passive, he could have countered the progressive mindset of Ivan—who attempted to intellectually provide answers to questions that did not require belief in a higher being.  Ivan’s tone was over‑reaching and intolerant. The two brothers represented types‑‑the intellectual versus the mystic (I will include the third brother when I analyze the entire book).

The parable provides no easy answers to the accusations of The Grand Inquisitor. Did Dostoevsky have an answer? Perhaps that's the point—to give the reader the freedom to ponder, unlike the accusations of The Grand Inquisitor, who didn't give people enough credit to even do that.

Perspective is everything. Having had more time to consider the book, The Brothers Karamazov, I wonder if my early thoughts were flawed. Upon further reflection, I don’t believe Alyosha was weak. He was humble. His responses were much like Jesus’ response to those who criticized Him. He never lashed back, except at the money changers. And perhaps Dostoevsky was making a broader statement about life. Communism followed in Russia shortly after his death. Is that what will happen here in America? Do people really want to think for themselves, or would they rather have the government or some other entity tell them what to do?

If you cherish your freedom, don’t be like the masses who expect the government to take care of them. Don’t take that government handout. Don’t expect the government to do for you what you can do for yourself.

God gave us freedom in Christ. He knew there would always be tyrannical governments, like the Romans, and Alexander the Great, and Hitler. If each person takes a leap of faith, trusts God, and become his brother’s keeper, we can prevent our country from going the way of others.

As my mother says, our country is going to hell in a handbasket. Little by little, The Grand Inquisitor will have his way in America because as a nation, we have turned our eyes away from God. And because God is love, He has given us the freedom to be conquered—and I ask, what or who will conquer us?

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Classics Review of A Tale of Two Cities with Lorilyn Roberts


A Tale of Two Cities

By Charles Dickens

Review by LorilynRoberts



(spoiler)



A Tale of Two Cities has a complicated plot with twists and turns that eventually unravel the tightly woven story. The story begins in France, several years before the French Revolution, switches to England, and then returns to France at the end. A lot of foreshadowing creates suspense, and as the story progresses, war ensues. Death is always a constant threat or recurring theme. In typical Dickens’ style, every character and scene is fully developed with symbolism playing an important role; i.e., the broken wine cask in the beginning and the reference to blood. The imagery reminds one of the Christian sacrament, and the impending war in France.

Of particular interest are the characters; the protagonist, Lucie Manette, discovers her father has been found alive imprisoned in the French Bastille for the last eighteen years. Lucie is the embodiment of love, and her unconditional love restores her father’s sanity.

As the French Revolution draws nearer, the reader senses the progression of hopeless bloodshed through the continued foreshadowing of events. There is an overarching uneasiness that something evil is going to happen to the main characters. The darkness of one of the main antagonists, Madame DeFarge, and her constant knitting of the names of those condemned to death, stands in stark contrast to the loving protagonist, Lucie Manette.

Soon Darnay and Lucie marry, and a few years later, the French Revolution begins.

Dickens shows the intense suffering and affliction of the masses and the arrogant aristocracy, which is portrayed by the heartless Marquis Evrémonde when he runs over a poor plebian child. The impending conflict in France creeps ever so closer to the Manette family in England when Darnay travels to France and is arrested. Darnay returns to Paris to free one of his former servants from prison, but is imprisoned on false charges. After a year, he is released following a trial, only to be immediately seized again by the evil Madame DeFarge. The father, who has been “recalled to life,” teeter totters on psychosis, reverting to his old shoemaking occupation while in prison when Darnay for the second time is sent to the guillotine.

The tight plot, where nothing is wasted, builds to a stunning conclusion with the eventual escape of Lucie, Darnay, and their young daughter from Paris back to London, thanks to Miss Pross’ killing of Madame DeFarge.

One of the most poignant characters is Sydney Carton. In the beginning, he is an unhappy attorney that has taken to drink and feels his life has been wasted; yet, he still longs for a meaningful relationship and finds it in the ever-so-compassionate Lucie Manette. Through her kindness, he becomes more than he could have hoped for or imagined. Her love reaches deep, and, in the end, propels him to make the ultimate sacrifice for Lucie and her family, where his purpose in living embodies ultimate redemption.

A Tale of Two Cities reminds me of those books and movies that need to be enjoyed twice; the first time for the overview of the complex plot, and the second time to appreciate the various symbolisms and motifs that make for a magnificent story.






Saturday, November 5, 2011

Classics Review of The Brothers Karamozov with Lorilyn Roberts


The Brothers Karamazov
By
Fyodor Dostoevsky
Am I My Brother’s Keeper?

Review by Lorilyn Roberts

The Brothers Karamazov opened my eyes to the depths of fine writing and what is necessary to improve mine. I felt humbled and chastised by The Brothers Karamazov.  The meanings and symbolism were much deeper than my own superficiality; i.e., I didn’t like the ending, there wasn’t the redemption I was looking for, Dmitri was found guilty; thus, the court system failed. I wanted to know what was going to happen to him. I felt like Dostovsky didn’t know what to do, so he just left it open for the reader to conjecture, a cop-out. I didn’t agree with the theme of the book, that we are responsible for other’s people’s sins in the sense that he was so emphatic. I felt like there were a lot of extraneous people in the story that served no real purpose, or why did the little boy die?  What did that add to the story?  I liked The Brothers Karamazov, it’s just I wanted it to be nice and tidy. It wasn’t.
The most difficult place to affect change is in someone's core beliefs. What depth of understanding can we impart to a reader beyond his current level? If we can convict a reader to change one aspect of his thinking, we can influence a whole generation. The Brothers Karamazov more than any other book broke down my idealistic view of what is good writing.

Once we acknowledge there is a higher standard than what we are familiar with, we  must be willing to risk failure to attain it. Do we not learn more from our failures than from our accomplishments?

Writing superficially is safe. It's not that we don't have an arc to the story, a protagonist and a villain, complications and a denouement; it's just that the superficiality will not touch deeply the heart of the reader. If we write with emotion and risk failure, though no one may acknowledge or know the risk except the writer, we will have raised the art of our writing to a new level.

Initially, due to my own flawed perception and pride, I felt like Alyosha was weak and Zosima was a dreamer. But they were real people with untarnished characters. They were their brother’s keeper. Pride has a way of distorting our vision of who we are. The Brothers Karamazov confronted  my flawed thinking about antagonists, forcing me to address  my own sin in one significant area: Maybe I am my brother’s keeper. 
But I admitted in my black heart, I don’t want to be my brother’s keeper. That means I have to love some people that are quite unlovable. If I am unwilling and I call myself a Christian, I am a fake. Am I willing to be my brother’s keeper? If I apply my beliefs to only loving those whom I choose to love, that means I am no different from Ivan or Dmitri.
It would be rare for a book to change more than one core belief in a person's thought process. To  effectuate any change is mind boggling. How many people read the Bible and walk away, darkened in their understanding? If the Greatest Book ever written can't convict every soul who scours its pages in search of answers, what pride we must have to believe we can bring about a metamorphosis in anyone. There must be a movement of the Holy Spirit to effectuate change. Only then can our words be powerful and only if executed to perfection. The Brothers Karamazov came as close to bringing me to my knees as any book I have read outside the Bible.

It is also interesting to note the political undertones in The Brothers Karamazov which predated the communist revolution in Russia by a few decades. .And freedom – Christ set men free. The opposite of that is totalitarianism. Perhaps the fight is greater than we realize. Our thoughts spoken into our books may even reflect prophetically the future as we seek to write from a Christian worldview. That was certainly the case with Fyodor Dostoevsky.

Some consider The Brothers Karamazov the greatest book ever written outside the Bible. Considering its place alongside the rest of the classics I have read, I would agree.



Friday, November 4, 2011

Classics Review of Wuthering Heights with Lorilyn Roberts


Wuthering Heights

By Emily Bronte

Critique by LorilynRoberts


Wuthering Heights is one of the most perfect novels I have read.  Here are my thoughts on what makes Wuthering Heights an outstanding read and why it’s considered a classic:

Characterization:

There are no extraneous characters introduced into the story. Each person serves a purpose and is often complementary to another character in the book, like a mirrored reflection or a duality, sometimes the same, sometimes opposing; i.e., Catherine and Heathcliff, Edgar and Isabella Linton, Hindley and Heathcliff, the younger Catherine and Hareton,  Mr. Lockwood and Nelly, Nelly and Joseph,  the two families at Wuthering Heights and the Grange, the mother Catherine and the younger Catherine,  and Isabella and Heathcliff.  The relationships among the characters are complicated and evolving.   If you were to take one of the characters out of this story, the  plot development would be negatively altered.  The plot is character-driven and tightly woven throughout the story.

Tone:

The tone of the story is brooding and dark. The sensuous feeling is foreboding, first  exhibited in the setting which Emily Bronte describes in detail. There is an element of overarching suspense and aversion to the characters:  the morose Heathcliff;  mother Catherine who dies of a brain disorder;  the drink of Hindley;  the tragic life of Isabella following her marriage to Heathcliff;  the delightful younger Catherine who succumbs to depression after coming under the control of Heathcliff. The depressing scene and dysfunctional characters that greet Lockwood’s arrival prompt him to ask Nelly to explain the history behind Wuthering Heights.

Societal:

I was struck by how Emily Bronte weaves the social status of the characters into the story:  Joseph and his barely intelligible English; Nelly, the servant and principal narrator, and her portrayal of others from an inferior social position;  the many differences between the upper class Lintons and the middle class Earnshaws; the emphasis on social structure with less opportunity for upward mobility, which impacted the “heart” of the story -- mother Catherine sacrifices her desire for Heathcliff  to achieve a higher social status by marrying Edgar. The characters’ traits, flaws, and attributes within the structure of society make for believable people that the reader  both loves and hates.

Multi-generational:

The differences between the generations were striking: Heathcliff and mother Catherine seemed unable to change with the passage of time or grow as individuals. They were locked into extremisms that  became dead-end roads.  Eventually, their flawed natures doomed them to early deaths, providing an opportunity for the next generation in Catherine and Hareton to overcome the past. In contrast to their parents, they were able to adapt and redeem the past, and through their transformation, the reader is filled with hope for the future.  The multigenerational aspect of time adds to the completeness  of the story—this is a family with a history, a past that threatens to destroy the future.

Spiritual/Psychological:

Emily Bronte probes deeply the psychological aspects of people’s behavior and the ramifications of the dark side of human nature. The story touches on the spiritual nature of the individuals, with references to the small church, the recurring battle with death, the repeated references to ghosts, and Joseph’s incessant recitation of Scripture.  
Themes:

The many themes are timeless—love that is forbidden, prejudices that hurt people,  the meaninglessness of life without hope,  hate that destroys,  the vindictiveness of human nature, and the darkness of the soul without God.

Setting:
Established in the first paragraph,  a “perfect misanthropist’s heaven. ” Right away,  I am told a lot about this story in a unique way which encourages me to keep reading.
Classic Author Similarities:
I am struck by the fact that many classics, like this one, have been written by individuals who have experienced tremendous  suffering.  I wonder if there is a relationship between a giftedness to write great stories and the degree to which one has endured hardship. Perhaps the strong emotions that are pent up in a tortured soul find solace in the pen as a healing balm.

Risky:
Creative, original stories take risks.  For instance, there isn’t one protagonist versus one antagonist in Wuthering Heights. Ninety-five percent of the story is dark and unsettling; the story reinforces negative stereotypical issues and characters. The orphan is the troublemaker and destroyer of the family, perpetuating a common “myth” with adoptees.  Joseph uses the Bible in a beguiling way to demean people, contrary to the Good Book’s ultimate purpose. The submissive role of women and their inability to escape from abusive husbands or families is also perpetuated in Wuthering Heights,  reinforcing the long-held notion that women are inferior to men.  Despite these risks,  Emile Bronte creates a masterpiece.


Fictional Dream:
Emily Bronte immerses the reader into a world that is vivid and dream-like, with colorful characters and a complex plot. She uses literary techniques that make this is a compelling read, one worth pondering after the last page is finished. It’s a shame she died so young—what other books might she have written?

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Classics Review of the Power and the Glory with Lorilyn Roberts


The Power and the Glory

by Graham Greene

Reflections by Lorilyn Roberts


            I initially had a tough time getting into this book—couldn’t find anything to enjoy about it. I came to the conclusion abut midway through The Power and the Glory that this wasn’t a book to be enjoyed. It was a book to ponder deeper meanings of faith, politics, humility, commitment, sin, and consequences.
            The protagonist, the priest, who is never named, is the only priest left in a certain state of Mexico where priests have been outlawed. He has spent the last eight years running from the police to evade capture. He is an imperfect archetype of a savior/martyr, haunted by his past failures and yet still struggling to remain committed to the priesthood. The priest is a conflicted individual, but his character grows; in the beginning of the story he tries to escape on a boat, but at the conclusion, he goes back to the state where priests have all been shot. Knowing he will be caught and killed, he returns to hear the confessions of a dying murderer.
            There were many characters in this book representing “types,” such as the antagonist, the lieutenant who hated the clergy; and the mestizo, a type of Judas. The many children represented hope, as poignantly shown in the final few pages when the young boy lets the priest into the house to hide him from the police. I most identified with the priest and his internal struggles. Greene did an excellent job of showing the priest’s outward struggle to avoid capture as well as his inner turmoil of sin and unrepentant spirit with reference to his illegitimate daughter. All the characters were real, deep, and memorable.
            The takeaway from this book to help me be a better writer includes:

            1. Make every character in the book count for a purpose and a deeper meaning than just “another person” to fill up the pages.

            2. Include qualities even in the antagonist that make him a sympathetic character—the story will be more believable. No one is all good or all bad.

            3. Be willing to tackle a controversial position—a protagonist that is severely flawed and that falls short of the standard can still be redeemed, changed, and become a hero.

            4. Think of ways to use people or animals or locations to enhance symbolic meanings that grow the story. For instance, the priest’s fight with the dog over the bone; the references to the dentist’s equipment and working on teeth;  the numerous beetles bashing themselves against walls—symbolizing pain, the fight for survival, the baseness of human depravity, and loss of dignity.

            5. What you write will linger later in the mind of the reader—shine a light of hope; i.e., the priest who knocked on the door and was met by the young boy.

            6. Not all books are to be necessarily enjoyed, but perhaps serve a greater purpose. Do you want to only entertain, or are you willing to probe the deeper meaning of life and leave the reader with significant ideas to grapple and ponder?






Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Classics Review of Great Expectations with Lorilyn Roberts


Great Expectations

by

 Charles Dickens

Review by Lorilyn Roberts

(spoiler)


Pip, the main character in Charles Dickens's Great Expectations, writes the story in first person as a middle‑aged man looking back on his life. Pip's parents die when he is young making him an orphan. Pip is "brought up by hand" by his sister, who treats him with scorn. His sister's lack of love, however, is tempered by her husband Joe, a blacksmith. Joe is a simple, uneducated man and Pip's only "friend" during childhood. Pip commiserates with Joe about his sister’s verbal thrashings, trying to make the best of his unhappy upbringing.
Early in the story, Pip has an encounter with a convict in the cemetery among the marshes near his home. Unbeknownst to him, this man would be the source for his “Great Expectations” later in life.
One day Pip is invited to the home of Ms. Havisham. Ms. Havisham is a single, eccentric, old woman who stopped living in the real world many years earlier when she was spurned by her lover on her wedding day.
Ms. Havisham has adopted the beautiful Estella, and from the moment Pip meets her, he is infatuated with her beauty. Estella represents wealth, education, success, and opportunity—things Pip values but thinks he will never have.
Dissatisfaction within himself grows as he wants to be more in life than a partner with Joe in the forge. Pip becomes unhappy not only with himself, but also with Joe, who represents what he does not want to be—uneducated and simple. Failing to appreciate Joe's moral character, Pip's world view begins to change as he sees education as something to be attained—the sure way out of his wretched life and the means by which he could woo the object of his unmerited affections, Estella.
          Pip's life changes dramatically when he is visited by a well‑respected and fiercely‑admired lawyer, Mr. Jaggers, who brings him an unusual message. Mr. Jaggers tells Pip he is to receive “Great Expectations,” but the benefactor is to remain anonymous until and only if they choose to reveal their identity. Pip mistakenly assumes the benefactor is Ms. Havisham, and the manipulating, self‑serving woman does nothing to dissuade him from his incorrect assumptions.
The story takes Pip to London where he lives a life of excess and discards many virtues from his childhood. He no longer wants anything to do with Joe and believes his future course has been immutably set—that he is to marry the beautiful Estella. He shares his indulgences with his new friend, Herbert, whose acquaintance he had made years earlier at Ms. Havisham's place. The two of them rack up excessive debt as Pip sees himself as "a man in waiting" for all his fortunes to come to pass.
Things are not what they seem, however. It is eventually revealed that the benefactor is not Ms. Havisham but the convict, Mr. Magwitch, whom Pip had met in the cemetery many years earlier when he was a young, impressionable boy.
Pip is confronted face‑to‑face with the despised convict, hounded by the remembrances of him torturing him in the cemetery, dreams that lingered, causing him much consternation. But now he has to accept the undeniable truth that his turn of fortune is not because of Ms. Havisham's provision, but the despicable convict's desire to make him a gentleman. The convict wants his life to be redeemed for something good and chooses Pip to be that vehicle.  
Through a series of events, Pip acknowledges the inexcusable way he has treated Joe and wants to make amends. Before he can accomplish this, however, other happenings complicate his life. The convict, now in England, needs Pip's protection. Pip must make a way for Magwitch to leave England without being discovered.
While Pip hides him with a trusted friend, Pip comes to realize that the convict he had earlier despised has more redemptive qualities than Pip has within himself. As he makes provision for the convict’s escape, Pip sees Magwitch change for the better, and in so doing, Pip also changes. Instead of hating the convict, Pip grows to love him. The self‑centeredness of Pip's indulgences is replaced with care, not only for the convict, but in growing degrees, for others.
In the process of trying to escape, the convict is attacked by his long-time archrival and enemy. As a result, Magwitch is severely injured, discovered by the authorities, put on trial and convicted, but dies from his injuries before his death sentence can be carried out. Magwitch’s estate is turned over to the authorities to make restitution for past wrongs. Pip is left penniless and obligingly accepts that his Great Expectations and source of income have dissipated into nothing. Meanwhile, Estella marries someone else—a man whom Pip despises.
A few years earlier, Pip had secretly made arrangements for his friend Herbert to have a small expectation out of his “Great Expectations,” amounting to a sizable sum of money. When it becomes known to Pip that he will lose his “Great Expectations” to the authorities, his only thought is for his friend. Pip returns to visit Ms. Havisham and requests, in a show of repentance for the wrongs she had done to him, a sum of money that Pip could again secretly provide to Herbert.                 
Herbert wisely uses this money to successfully buy into a business venture. He later marries and moves overseas in his business pursuits—none of which would have been possible without Pip's anonymous provision to Herbert.
          Pip credits this as the only redeeming thing he has accomplished, reflecting on all the other things he did or didn't do that could have been used for good.
Pip falls ill following the death of his convict friend, Magwitch, and Joe comes to England to care for him until he is well. Joe surreptitiously leaves early one morning when Pip is sufficiently recovered, and when Pip wakes up, he discovers Joe has paid off all his creditors.
Pip immediately returns home in penitence to confess to Joe all his past wrongs, realizing that Joe is a better man than he. He recognizes in his now humble state that his “Great Expectations” deceived him into using it as a source of pride against Joe.
Upon arriving home, Pip’s expectations are not what he envisioned. His sister who raised him by hand has long since died as a result of an attack on her by the evil Orlick. His childhood friend and confidant, Biddy, has just married Joe. In the end, redemption works its way for good. Joe and Biddy are happily married and the sore memories of Pip's sister are forgotten.
Pip returns to London and within a month, leaves England and joins Herbert's firm, Clarriker and Company, overseas. Pip lives abroad with Herbert and his wife, and after successfully making partner, eleven years later, returns to his boyhood home in England. He discovers Joe and Biddy now have a son who reminds him of himself.
Before bidding Joe and Biddy a final farewell, Pip makes one last trip to the Havisham place, the old woman having died many years earlier. Pip discovers Estella in the garden, a chance meeting since she no longer lives there. The old house and brewery have been torn down and sold off except for the garden enclosed by the ivy‑covered wall.
Years of a stormy, failed marriage have softened Estella's vindictive, prideful nature, and she confesses that "suffering has been stronger than all other teaching and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be."  The reader is left to ponder whether Pip and Estella ever marry because Pip says, "I saw no parting from her."
                    In the end, Pip learns much about what matters—wisdom he would not have possessed if he had stayed working at Joe's forge. As a middle‑aged narrator looking back, there is sadness but sweetness about what he has lost because of what he has gained. Perhaps the reader is the real winner, having seen redemption on so many levels within each character. In the end, if we are honest, we can identify these shortcomings in ourselves.
If Pip can work out his “Great Expectations” to bring redemption, perhaps we can, also—that is, again, if we are honest. Our sinful nature will always be there, but if we look for good, God will not disappoint us. Maybe “Great Expectations” will not only find us, but redemption will be there, too, just as it was in Pip.