In a sense it was the first English novel; Fielding called it a “comic Epic-Poem in Prose.” Beginning as a satire on Samuel Richardson’s Pamela, the story of a girl who fought for her virtue against her employer and ended up marrying him, Joseph Andrews is the story of Pamela’s brother, who resists the advances of his employer, a noble lady. The joke was good for a laugh, and it is remarkable that Fielding was able to be so cheerful about it, given the circumstances.
Actually, in the course of writing the book, he made a discovery of the sort that happens only to the best writers. He found he had a better story at hand in the relationship between Joseph and his friend, Parson Adams, one of the great comic figures in literature. Adams and Joseph travel the roads and byways of England together, and their adventures constitute a masterpiece of ironic social criticism.
Fielding had been considered an enemy by the Whigs, but in 1745 a Tory government came into power and he was adopted as a valuable political ally. He wrote whole issues of newspapers in support of the Tories and was supported financially by them in return. He was also made a London magistrate, and ended up reforming that previously despised office, treating the poor with justice and compassion instead of exploiting them, and devising ways to protect both rich and poor from the depredations of murderers, ruffians, and robbers. All of this kept him extremely busy, but he still had time to write The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling. It appeared in 1749, and though it was one of the very first English novels, it remains one of the best. Amelia followed two years later; it is not much read these days. In 1754 Fielding journeyed to Lisbon in search of a cure for his several crippling afflictions. He died in Lisbon a few months after he arrived.
Tom Jones is a foundling. This is a convenient novelistic ploy; the author can conceal until the very end of the book the names of the real parents of his hero. Tom is considered by everyone to be a bastard and hence a man without any prospects. But he is the handsomest young man in England, and charming to boot, and infinitely lovable. He is loved by everyone—except his enemies.
Naturally he has enemies; else there would be no story. For a while his enemies are triumphant, and Tom is forced to flee from the comfortable home where he has been brought up under the kind care of Squire Allworthy, whose name indicates character. Tom sets out, with an imaginary stick over his shoulder to which is attached a handkerchief containing his worldly possessions, to see what the world is made of. He learns a great deal but he is never in any real danger because many women, young and old, adopt him and take him under their wing. Such a charming, handsome young man cannot come to harm in the universe of fiction.
Tom leaves behind him not only Squire Allworthy but also Squire Western, and Squire Western’s family. Squire Western is justly famous; he is the very type of the apoplectic eighteenth-century landed gentry. He is also wonderfully funny, for, no matter how hard he shouts, he is never able to beat down his sister, an unwedded lady who keeps his house. They argue unceasingly, and these arguments are immensely comical. The keynote is established in an early chapter when, in the course of one of the Squire’s tirades, Miss Western has occasion to remind him that she is a woman:
“I do know you are a woman,” cries the squire, “and it’s well for thee that art one; if hadst been a man, I promise thee I had lent thee a flick long ago.”—“Ay, there,” said she, “in that flick lies all your fancied superiority. Your bodies, and not your brains, are stronger than ours. Believe me, it is well for you that you are able to beat us; or, such is the superiority of our understanding, we should make all of you … our slaves.”
The Squire is never able to talk to his sister without nearly frothing at the mouth. They are a wonderful pair, and one regrets that there are not even more of their conversations in the book.
Squire Western also has a daughter, Sophia, the paragon of young ladies, as beautiful as Tom is handsome, as charming and accomplished in her way as he is in his. Of course they fall in love; this is as deliciously inevitable as anything in a novel.
The Squire, however, is inalterably opposed to such a match for his beloved daughter. Sophia therefore has many obstacles to overcome in winning her Tom; to those in her own household are added those erected between them by Tom himself who, partly because he feels guilty about loving Sophia when everyone tells him he should not, falls in love with more than one other girl in the course of his travels.
All comes around in the end, which is also inevitable, but how it comes about I have no intention whatsoever of saying—for what right have I to deprive you of the exquisite pleasure of finding out for yourself?
I do not know of any novel that is more fun to read than Tom Jones. It is funny, touching, sad, and profound. The characters are interesting, the situations believable. The book also is a veritable goldmine of information about life in eighteenth-century England. It was a fascinating time worth knowing about.
Tom Jones consists of eighteen books and some one hundred chapters. Each of the separate Books is introduced by a chat with the reader in the author’s own voice. Fielding talks to us about the story, about the fortunes and misfortunes of the characters, and about other subjects of mutual interest. Such interludes were not uncommon at the time, and usually they can be skipped without loss. Not so with Tom Jones. Fielding’s chats with his readers are almost as entertaining as the story itself. Do not make the mistake of slipping by them.
JAMES BOSWELL
1740–1795
The Life of Samuel Johnson LL.D.
James Boswell was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1740, the son of the laird of Auchinleck in Ayrshire. The laird was ambitious for his son and wished for him to follow in his footsteps as an advocate, but Boswell disliked school and especially disliked his father’s profession. In 1760 he ran away from his father’s sternness to London and discovered that he much preferred pretty women to the law. He also discovered that he was sensual and attractive to women and so the long series of intrigues and gallantries that filled his life began.
Boswell, now deciding that instead of being a lawyer he would become a soldier, persuaded his father to support him in a military career. But his father would not buy him a commission, and Boswell failed to obtain one in any other way. He ended up being an advocate, and an unhappy one.
On his second visit to London he made the acquaintance of a number of important persons and literary folk, and charmed them all. On May 16, 1763, there occurred the famous meeting with Samuel Johnson, in the back parlor of the bookseller Thomas Davies. Johnson was severe with the young man at first—he was fifty-three, Boswell still only twenty-two—but a firm friendship soon developed between them, one that endured until Johnson’s death in 1784.
James Boswell harbored for years an abiding desire to write the biography of some great man. He seemed to grow in his own estimation when he was in the company of important persons. He had an ability to interest and charm them, and many became his close friends. He also possessed a remarkable memory. He could remember the details of a conversation long after it had occurred, and what is more he had the ability to summarize it so that it read like fiction instead of a mere transcript.