Back Story Gone Awry: Dickens’s Fagin Gets a New Treatment

Allison Epstein wastes her talent in ‘Fagin The Thief,’ trying to right literary wrongs by revising a serial child exploiter.

"Fagin the Thief: A Novel," by Allison Epstein.

The novel “Fagin the Thief” by Allison Epstein attempts to fashion a backstory for the London criminal while also recreating the events of “Oliver Twist” from his perspective. It’s a very ambitious choice, to say the least.

There are two ways you could judge the author’s success. One, read it based solely on its merits as a standalone piece of fiction, unconnected with the previous work. So long as you fully close your mind to the existence of its legendary predecessor, you might find the book enjoyable and well-written.

Epstein is a talented writer who evokes the era as though she has actually been there—not an easy trick. Each chapter contains all the filth and poverty of early 19th-century England that you might expect, along with the desperation of its inhabitants as they struggle to eke out a meager living in the London slums. Each of the characters, new and old, are fleshed out and relatable.

The other way to judge it is from a familiar vantage point of having read the legendary novel “Oliver Twist.” If you’re like me, who falls into the second category, you might be asking, “Who is this Fagin in Epstein’s book?” That’s because he ultimately bears no resemblance to the original.

Who Is This Fagin, Anyway?

The original Fagin is one of the most notable characters in the pantheon of Victorian literature, and certainly one of the most infamous Jewish characters of the era.

From the perspective of modern sensibilities, “Oliver Twist” can be a bit shocking to read when Dickens turns his attention to Fagin. Often referred to simply as “the Jew,” Dickens’ portrayal of the leader of a London gang of pickpocketing children is virtually a study in anti-Semitic stereotypes. The old criminal is described as bent and ugly, conniving and scheming in the extreme, treacherous yet cowardly, and fixated almost wholly on the accumulation of earthly riches. He’s also a serial child exploiter and abuser, and even warns Oliver that betraying him might mean being sent to the gallows. After all, that’s what happened with a previous boy in his care.

Tinkering With The Past

It’s easy to imagine how a caricature like Fagin would haunt someone’s imagination, refusing to let go. It’s understandable for such a person to ask the simple question: Is that all there is to this man?

There’s a common temptation with many modern artists: a vain impulse to right the wrongs of literature by explaining away a famous character’s actions as justifiable due to some tremendous moral crime done to them in the past.

Another popular path is to create a multiverse version of people or events, one that radically changes them in some fundamental way. These revisionist histories are all the rage in films and books today. I had hoped Epstein wasn’t going to follow in their footsteps.

Unfortunately, my hope wasn’t realized.

Was Dickens Ever at a Loss for Words?

Say what you will about Dickens, but the man didn’t hold back when it came to character details. More accurately, the author barely resisted any opportunity to add descriptive flourishes, often writing multiple pages to describe the objects found in a single room. “Bleak House,” for example, is notorious for this.

Many of Dickens’s characters have both good and bad traits. The naive and loyal Nan in “Oliver Twist,” for example, is inspired to perform an act of true virtue despite her terrible past behavior. She then pays for it with her life. Therefore, if Fagin had any redeeming qualities, they would almost certainly be found in the pages of the original book. But, frankly, there aren’t any to be found. In the final analysis, the man is plain old bad.

Rather than explore the character as he was created, Epstein almost entirely ignores the source material. She instead crafts a man who laments how he “cannot save his boys from everything, cannot save them from most things,” but at least can give sweet Oliver one night of peaceful rest. Is Epstein apologizing for Fagin’s child exploitation and serial abuse? While you’re at it, why not write a story depicting Victorian-era child workhouses as happy daycare centers?

What’s Fagin’s True Failing?

At the end of “Oliver Twist,” Dickens reveals some of Fagin’s most telling characteristics: a raving, broken man, disconnected from all hope, and almost driven mad by his pending execution. When “venerable men of his own persuasion had come to pray beside him,” he drives them away with curses. When later they renew “their charitable efforts,” he physically throws them out.

Arguably, one of Fagin’s true failings is his choice to walk away from his faith and fixate entirely on himself. However, Epstein’s version has him fervently praying at the end, rekindling his belief in the Almighty, and nobly embracing a completely different fate from Dickens’s version.

Yes, the original Fagin is an ugly stereotype, written by a man who might’ve tried to make up for his failings by creating a sympathetic Jewish character named Riah in his later book “Our Mutual Friend.”

If “Oliver Twist” were written today (regardless of literary worthiness), it likely wouldn’t be bought by any contemporary publisher. Whether or not you agree with this choice is moot—it was published almost 200 years ago. Nothing will change that fact, or the book’s undeniable popularity.

In an author’s note at the end of “Fagin the Thief,” Epstein admits that she wrote the book as her way to deal with “the Fagin problem,” but bemoans that “modern adaptations” either sanitize the man or disown him. As I see it, her book ends up doing both.

’Fagin the Thief’ By Allison Epstein Doubleday, Feb. 25, 2025 Hardcover: 336 pages

What arts and culture topics would you like us to cover? Please email ideas or feedback to [email protected]