Category: Blog Series Page 152 of 220

Partridge tries to talk Tom in to returning home, rather than getting further inolved with the military. That doesn’t go well at all, and the two start to bicker, when Tom finds the Muff, recognizes it and suddenly can only care aonly about it. He tries to set out to track Sophia down.

And, yeah, Mrs. Fitzpatrick was, after all, probably at the Inn—just not the woman that Tom was found with, and is already on the road. The coach that had likely brought Mrs. Fitzpatrick to the end is described:

The Coach which had brought the young Lady and her Maid, and which, perhaps, the Reader may have hitherto concluded was her own, was, indeed, a returned Coach belonging to Mr King, of Bath, one of the worthiest and honestest Men that ever dealt in Horse-flesh, and whose Coaches we heartily recommend to all our Readers who travel that Road. By which Means they may, perhaps, have the Pleasure of riding in the very Coach, and being driven by the very Coachman, that is recorded in this History.

According the footnotes in my edition, this was an actual business, making this appear to be one of the earliest examples of product placement?

Chapter vi ends with:

Here, Reader, it may be necessary to acquaint thee with some Matters, which, if thou dost know already, thou art wiser than I take thee to be. And this Information thou shalt receive in the next Chapter.

This is one of my all-time favorite chapter endings. I love it when Fielding narrates his narration like this. It’s the simple things in life, right?

The next chapter is such the comedy of errors, mistaken identities, mistaken motives, wild accusations, and general running about that I can’t summarize it well—I’d really have to just reprint the whole chapter. Suffice it to say that Squire Western is a couple of hours behind Sophia, and is still no friend of Tom’s. Oh, and Mrs. Fitzpatrick is the cousin of Sophia.

We then get flashback chapters, detailing how Sophia ran away from her home, and how her father reacted (hint: poorly) upon discovering it—oddly, her aunt defended her actions. Naturally, Fielding uses the chance to indulge his weakness for the young lady,

It is now Time to look after Sophia; whom the Reader, if he lovers half as well as I do, will rejoice to find escaped from the Clutches of her passionate Father, and from those of her dispassionate Lover.

We get a beginning of a Book digression—this one into a harangue against literary critics, who are nothing more than slanderers, attacking an author when they attack a book—

for, as no one can call another Bastard, without calling the Mother a Whore, so neither can any one give the Names of sad Stuff, horrid Nonsense, &c., to a Book, without calling the Author a Blockhead; which, though in a moral Sense it is a preferable Appellation to that of Villain, is perhaps rather more injurious to his worldly Interest.

(as much as I quibble with his argument, I enjoyed it)

Then we resume with Sophia’s journey after her close miss with Tom, she, her maid, and their guide rush toward London, and soon discover they’re being followed (unintentionally). It turns out that they’re being followed by none other than Sophia’s cousin, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. They had been very close not that long ago and decide to travel together. But are both so tired after their last couple of days that they don’t talk much, and resolve to keep their stories until they’ve had a chance to sleep. They get to an inn, and collapse almost immediately, so we’ll get to see them catch up with each other next week.

Some of this was just a bit too busy for my taste. I prefer Fielding a bit more streamlined, but overall, this was eventful, fun and should prove to make life interesting in the chapters to come.

We start off with the 18th case of mistaken identity and 47th fistfight of the book.

Some Irishman has come to the Inn late at night, looking for his wife. The maid assumes that he’s talking about Mrs. Waters, leads him to her room. He bursts in, sees clothing from two people scattered all over, a female in the bed and Tom jumping out of it to see who burst in. The stranger starts attacking Tom. Another Irishman is staying in the next room (I’m not going to bother trying to introduce them), a friend, and he comes charging in—only to help him realize that Mrs. Waters isn’t his wife. The two leave and Tom goes back to bed.

The maid and landlady discuss the events of the evening, only to be interrupted by a lady’s maid and her lady coming to take a room. After getting them settled, the maid comes down, looking for food and gets to talking things over with the inn’s made and Partridge. One thing leads to another and Patridge reveals to Mrs. Honour (naturally, that’s who the lady’s maid is) that Tom’s here with Mrs. Waters.

Partridge does a little more damage that I really don’t care enough to recap. Mrs. Honour tells Sophia about it, she’s highly offended (not realizing it was Partridge telling tales out of school, not Tom) and arranges to leave the fabled muff (which, of course, she has on her) and a note in Tom’s room.

There are a couple of stylistic moments that seem different from the rest of the book—as I’m currently at page 546, that’s no mean feat. They were nice touches, but I’m glad they’re just touches. Even without that, Fielding’s voice was as strong as ever, and I chuckled as much as I rolled my eyes at these silly circumstances.

Looking forward to seeing Tom dig himself out of this hole.