I had no illusions that a longtime popular entertainment like San Francisco’s Dickens Fair would be a place of grand literary or historical seriousness. I expected healthy dollops of commercial humbug and theatrical claptrap. But I was still surprised to find the tiny Dickens family parlour only half-full as “Charles Dickens” prepared to read aloud from Stave Three of A Christmas Carol (featuring the Ghost of Christmas Present and the Cratchit family Christmas)—while hordes stood in line nearby to buy bangers and mash and others crowded into Mad Sal’s for bawdy songs of indeterminate vintage. But all the better to find a great seat for myself, willingly suspend my disbelief, and enjoy the reading as if I’d time-traveled back to the 1850s.
Stepping back in time
It’s the chance to step back in time—no matter the bizarre historical and literary mashups!—that draws such a variety of people to the Dickens Fair. “Naughty and nice” the billboards announce, but all with at least a passing glance back at the nineteenth century.
When my husband and I arrived at the Cow Palace—the enormous Quonset-hut-shaped building that houses the fair for four weekends before Christmas—the line of ticket holders was already snaking around the parking lot. A number of men, women, and children were in costume, from carefully assembled period dress to Halloween holdovers. The man in front of us sported a Nightmare-Before-Christmas stovetop hat and a lei of outsized Christmas ornaments. One woman wore a spangled cocktail dress; many others took the opportunity to don corsets, net stockings, and all manner of bonnets and bows.
A band of chimney sweeps—plus waifs, urchins, bawds, costermongers, and other Victorian types—greeted us as we transitioned from sunny California to sooty London. The atmosphere was actually quite (ahem) Dickensian: dark, gritty, crowded, raucous. Some actors portrayed Dickens characters while others enacted typical or historical figures: thus, a soap seller on one corner and Jules Verne on another. What with all the costumed attendees, it was hard to tell the performers from the audience.
Perusing the fares
We tried to sample a bit of everything. There were shops selling all sorts of unusual items, from harps to old-fashioned hats. Father Christmas was competing with a Punch-and-Judy show for the attention of children and their parents. (Punch was winning when we ventured by.) We met a woman at Mad Sal’s Alehouse Theater who assured us that it was well worth waiting for the “naughty” Can-Can dancers—so we did, but found we liked an earlier act, the Morris dancers, much more. More waiting: in line for mediocre roast beef sandwiches—probably more like Victorian fare both in quality and costliness than the Fair’s management would like to admit.
After a full day, we finally had to acknowledge the twenty-first century need to seek transportation back to our hotel. The crowds and the lines had been a bit daunting, and I wish we’d had more time to enjoy other enactments such as the Adventurer’s Club—so perhaps we’ll try to return another year.
Sounds like you had a great day. I felt as if I was there with you. Especially liked your description…”A number of men, women, and children were in costume, from carefully assembled period dress to Halloween holdovers. The man in front of us sported a Nightmare-Before-Christmas stovetop hat and a lei of outsized Christmas ornaments.” I think I would really like suspending belief as you did and spending a day in the Dickens era.It’s like stepping into a Masterpiece Theatre production!