Thackeray's narrator is a tired guide to the world of English society: he has seen it all before, including the exhausting set of self-destructive, manipulative, and impossibly vain idiosyncrasies of an English elite who are constantly preoccupied with securing their fortunes and raising their status. The tone of the novel, therefore, is a bit cynical, a bit apprehensive, and a bit weary. Often, the narrator glosses over portions of dialogue or narrative that feel especially tiring, as in Chapter 4:
There is no need of giving a special report of the conversation which now took place between Mr Sedley and the young lady; for the conversation, as may be judged from the foregoing specimen, was not especially witty or eloquent; it seldom is in private societies, or anywhere except in very high-flown and ingenious novels.
By the time the reader arrives at the novel's ambivalent ending, which sees Amelia and Dobbin together—happily—but does not deliver any real punishment or recourse for Becky, it becomes clear that the narrator has long given up on finding a resolution to the many contradictions of human nature: they existed long before Vanity Fair and will continue to cause frustration and chaos long after. As Thackeray ends the novel: "Ah! Vanitas Vanitatum! Which of us is happy in this world! Which of us has his desire? or, having it, is satisfied?—Come children, let us shut up the box and the puppets, for our play is played out." The novel ends because the narrator has, apparently, run out of patience with the world—not because the story has come to a decisive conclusion.
