"Lower and lower" "Down"

Mrs. Sparsit’s staircase is hers no longer, but it wasn’t hers to begin with. She just happened to spot it before anyone else did. Maybe even that isn’t true. But she saw Louisa coming down it, down, down, down. What was Louisa thinking?

I wonder if it’s possible to go up the Staircase that Goes Down. Or whether going down is the only right thing to do. I despise Mrs. Sparsit’s voyeuristic gaze. I despise her seeing the staircase, why should she? Why should anybody? Why should the light be on the staircase? Why should the base be in shadow?

There is a compelling section -not a section, almost three whole chapters- in Hard Times with a peculiar reference to a staircase, named Mrs. Sparsit’s Staircase, which shows Louisa’s steps, as she comes down it. There is a light shining on the staircase, the last stair is eaten up in shadow, and Louisa is in sharp relief. It is this image that haunts me -even after the ending has been played out, as close to a comic resolution as can be expected from Dickens- and I believe that everybody forgot about Louisa, who’s still on the staircase, starkly lit and quite alone.

It is not difficult to imagine being on the staircase, not necessarily being Louisa, but being another voyeur, who would like to observe the world as it appears from the staircase, and go down, two steps at a time, pause, and admire the view. What would be the view from the bottom? Would I have to shade my eyes to squint at the light and try and figure out whether the top is any different from the bottom? Do I believe it to be? For, you can never be at the top and make your way down. That, you can never do. You must always be on your climb down, down, down.