Category: Blog Series Page 151 of 232

So Squire Western drags Blifil with him to go visit Sophia, who does not want to see him and excuses herself immediately. Mrs. Western chalks this up to them showing up unexpectedly and chases them off—schedule a visit (maybe even this afternoon) and she’ll see him, her aunt will see to that. It takes some work, but she gets them to leave—Western only because he insists this afternoon will work, but Blifil thinks something else is afoot.

And he’s right, Lady Bellaston (for whatever twisted reason she has) has come to visit Western and has convinced her that Lord Fellamar is a better match than Blifil, who really only has money to recommend him. Fellmar has a title, money, and class. Sure, he almost raped Sophia, but…I’m not sure Mrs. Western knows that (or would believe Sophia). That stupid proposal that Tom used to scare off Bellaston comes back to haunt him—she gives it to Mrs. Western to show Sophia.

Meanwhile, Fellmar has recruited a naval friend of his to find Tom, trump up some charges (he’s not a gentleman or anyone with a source of income, he’s a vagrant, so that’ll work) to put him on a sailing vessel.

Meanwhile, Tom has kept that appointment with Mrs. Fitzgerald. She’s still upset with Mrs. Western and wants to get back at her by helping Tom win Sophia. The next day, he returns for more discussion of the topic. As he leaves, he bumps into Mr. Fitzgerald—who after a minute, recognizes Tom and challenges him. Tom knows almost nothing about fencing, but knows enough, apparently, to stick him with the pointy end.

Naturally, about that time the group who was coming to grab Tom for Fellmar sees this and takes him off to the magistrate. Murder’ll do better than vagrancy, after all. While Tom’s locked up, the next day, Partridge comes with the news—Fitzgerald died from his wounds. He also brings a note from Sophia, she’s seen the proposal, and he should never contact her again.

Of the present situation of Mr Jones’s mind, and of the pangs with which he was now tormented, we cannot give the reader a better idea than by saying, his misery was such that even Thwackum would almost have pitied him. But, bad as it is, we shall at present leave him in it, as his good genius (if he really had any) seems to have done. And here we put an end to the sixteenth book of our history.

That’s a pretty eventful four chapters right there. There’ve been entire Books of this novel that haven’t had as many events as the last four chapters of this one. Fellmar and Bellaston prove that they’re the worst. Blifil has probably been spurred to new levels of knavery, and I’m kind of looking forward to Fellmar and facing off with him (and man, I hope that happens)

It was a little confusing because Feilding spent a lot of time going back in time when he switched the characters he focused on—but it wasn’t that bad. I feel like I should have more to say, but I really don’t—I just want to see what happens next!

Black George smuggles that letter Tom wrote to Sophia with the breakfast he brought her, and it was a good one. She was so excited to see it that she ignored her favorite dishes, brought by George for her specifically to get over the hunger strike.

What Sophia said, or did, or thought, upon this letter, how often she read it, or whether more than once, shall all be left to our reader’s imagination. The answer to it he may perhaps see hereafter, but not at present: for this reason, among others, that she did not now write any, and that for several good causes, one of which was this, she had no paper, pen, nor ink.

She’s immediately distracted from her lack of office supplies by a heated argument in the house, it doesn’t take long for her to figure out that her aunt had arrived and isn’t happy with her father. At this point, Fielding states:

We shall therefore take our leave at present of Sophia, and, with our usual good-breeding, attend her ladyship.

Mrs. Western’s not happy with the way her brother is treating his daughter. Naturally. For one, she isn’t impressed at all with the quality of the place the Squire has rented. And, of course, the whole locking her in her room thing. After some choice words, and an offer by the Parson to mediate, the two come to an agreement—Mrs. Western will take Sophia to her residence and Squire Western will drink to excess. Each playing to their strengths, I guess.

Sophia gets her hands on some stationary and a pen at her aunt’s lodging and writes Tom back. Essentially saying she has no intentions of marrying Blifil, but won’t defy her father and marry anyone else. Basically what she told her father in last week’s chapters. She commands Tom to write her back, too.

Tom’s so relieved by her freedom from confinement that he keeps his appointment to go to a performance of Hamlet with Mrs. Wilson and her youngest daughter—and they bring Partridge along. Patridge is unfamiliar with the play and is like one of those little kids in the movie theater talking to their parent. “Who is that?” “Ghosts don’t look like that…” and so on. He’s more entertaining to those who hear him than the play is. Fielding has a lot of fun with Patridge at this point—even going so far as to say that the guy playing the King was the better actor:

“The king, without doubt.” “Indeed, Mr Partridge,” says Mrs Miller, “you are not of the same opinion with the town; for they are all agreed, that Hamlet is acted by the best player who ever was on the stage.” “He the best player!” cries Partridge, with a contemptuous sneer, “why, I could act as well as he myself. I am sure, if I had seen a ghost, I should have looked in the very same manner, and done just as he did. And then, to be sure, in that scene, as you called it, between him and his mother, where you told me he acted so fine, why, Lord help me, any man, that is, any good man, that had such a mother, would have done exactly the same. I know you are only joking with me; but indeed, madam, though I was never at a play in London, yet I have seen acting before in the country; and the king for my money; he speaks all his words distinctly, half as loud again as the other.—Anybody may see he is an actor.”

While Partridge is telling Mrs. Wilson how hams are clearly the better actors, Mrs. Fitzpatrick approaches Tom, having seen him across the room. She has something to tell him, and they agree to meet the next morning.

Fielding starts the next chapter on a great note:

It is almost impossible for the best parent to observe an exact impartiality to his children, even though no superior merit should bias his affection; but sure a parent can hardly be blamed, when that superiority determines his preference.

As I regard all the personages of this history in the light of my children; so I must confess the same inclination of partiality to Sophia; and for that I hope the reader will allow me the same excuse, from the superiority of her character.

This extraordinary tenderness which I have for my heroine never suffers me to quit her any long time without the utmost reluctance. I could now, therefore, return impatiently to enquire what hath happened to this lovely creature since her departure from her father’s, but that I am obliged first to pay a short visit to Mr Blifil.

I like that even Fielding sees Blifil as an obligation.

Upon hearing that Western has Sophia locked up and is ready to marry her off, Blifil talks his uncle into going to London right away. Allworthy isn’t inclined to at first, because it’s clear that Sophia doesn’t want to marry him, and Allworthy won’t consent to a forced marriage. Blifil convinces him that he’ll persuade her, not force. And so

the affection of Allworthy for his nephew betray the superior understanding to be triumphed over by the inferior; and thus is the prudence of the best of heads often defeated by the tenderness of the best of hearts.

Fielding’s prose was at its best this week—as you can tell from my multiple quotations above (and I cut about half of what I wanted to cite). Between that and how things are progressing, I had a lot of fun this week, and hope it continues.

So what’s Mrs. Fitzgerald got for Tom? Can Blifil continue to fool his uncle? What dumb thing is Partridge going to do next? We just might get an answer to at least one of these next week.