Construction is set to begin shortly on Dickens World, an “entertainment complex” based on the life and work of Charles Dickens, and is expected to be completed by 2007.

Attractions will include rides loosely based on characters from his novels, and reproductions of Victorian street scenes.

Here’s what I want to know: has anyone on that planning committee ever read a Dickens novel? Wasn’t the adjective “Dicksensian” coined to describe corrupt, squalid conditions such as those prevailing in the Victorian era, as chronicled by Dickens in austere masterpieces like David Copperfield and Little Dorrit? Bleak House, Hard Times — do these sound like kiddie rides?

Personally, I’m looking forward to the Oliver Twist food court (tiny portions of gruel, accompanied by beatings) and the Great Expectations function hall, which you can rent for weddings — complete with the services of a wedding planner, Miss Havisham, who attends in her own tattered bridal attire.

Coming soon: Kafka Adventure in Prague, with the Cockroach roller coaster and The Trial multimedia presentation! Algonquin Times in New York City, where visitors interact with drunk, witty, sexually confused “intellectuals” for a realistic 20th-century experience! The Magic Mountain in the Swiss Alps, with a Take-the-Waters Flume Ride and white-coated attendants who make sure that guests never get too excited!

Full disclosure: I have made a solemn vow that I will never, ever take Aitch to a theme park. Oh, I won’t deprive him of the roller coaster/cotton candy experience — I’ll be happy to spend a few hours at Six Flags or other generic amusement parks. But Disneyworld, Hersheypark, any other place based on a cutesy central theme or with an inappropriately elided title–forget it.

When I make this vow in public, people react as though I’ve said, “I’m going to raise Aitch with no religious training whatsoever” (which is something I have said, but that’s a whole other post). They look at me severely and say, “Of course you will,” as though I’m depriving Aitch of some fundamental childhood experience and will reconsider once the enormity of my decision hits me.

I don’t think Disneyworld is essential to a healthy psyche. Strolls on the beach, nature hikes through the woods, museums, libraries, music, theater, yes; Pirates of the Carribbean, no. It’s not harmful — I would not complain if someone else wanted to take him. But if I never see Disneyworld again, it would be too soon, and I won’t change my mind.