Category: General Fiction/Literature Page 18 of 49

I sat my laptop down after I’d started this post, and Windows decided that when I said I wanted to install updates later, I didn’t mean a half-hour later after I stopped working for a couple of minutes. I lost a couple of paragraphs of this—my reconstruction might be a little rough. We’ll see.

We start Book VIII with the typical digression from the story. This time, we get “A wonderful long Chapter concerning the Marvellous; being much the longest of all our introductory Chapters.” He really believes in truth in advertising, it’s a long chapter. A long discussion about the “marvelous,” or supernatural in fiction. It’s pretty interesting but has as little to do with the novel as any of the other first chapters. I’d love to take the time and work through the allusions and footnotes (added by the editor of my edition), because that’d be a fascinating study.

We return to Tom’s room as he continues to recover—the Landlady shows up and introduces herself to Tom. Thanks to some intelligence from the Lieutenant, she pretends to know Sophia. Which gets Tom to open up to her about his life—she quickly learns that he’s no gentleman at all, but a broke castout. Which pretty much means that she’s done with him. As Fielding notes:

for the lower sort of people are very tenacious of respect; and though they are contented to give this gratis to persons of quality, yet they never confer it on those of their own order without taking care to be well paid for their pains.

(that’s horribly cynical, but…probably holds more than a kernel of truth)

The doctor comes back and argues with Tom about his treatment (getting a little more lampooning). Afterward, he talks to the landlady and discovers that Tom can’t pay him, either. Which (not surprisingly) gets him very angry. He argues with Tom some more and gets shooed off.

Which brings us to the barber—Fielding puts him on the same level as barber from Don Quixote and The Arabian Nights. He’s a jolly sort, given to quoting philosophers. He tells Tom it’s crazy to join the army with head injury he’s sporting. The Table of Contents tells me we’re going to get more of him soon.

Not a lot happens again, but (like last week) it’s all about the way that things are told. It’s fun and I’m looking forward to seeing what the barber’s really about.

The inn Tom’s staying in is suddenly full of British soldiers and Tom spends some time socializing with them—and buys them a few beers. Making him a well-liked fellow straight-off. The serjeant tells his lieutenant that he has two new prospects—a wonderful gentleman, who’d make a great officer, and Tom, who’d do be okay to serve at the rear rank (as anyone who’s ever marched in a parade behind horses can tell you, this is not a compliment).

Amongst the two companies of soldiers are two lieutenants—the commanding officer an a French lieutenant

who had been long enough out of France to forget his own language, but not long enough in England to learn ours, so that he really spoke no language at all, and could barely make himself understood on the most ordinary occasions.

a childish line, but one that made me grin.

Not everyone gets along with Tom, the other new recruit (Northerton)starts to verbally joust with him a bit. They trade barbs, including this nice little rejoinder from Tom:

“Oh! sir,” answered Jones, “it is as possible for a man to know something without having been at school, as it is to have been at school and to know nothing.”

Things get a little heated when Northerton talks about Sophia sleeping around a lot, and things start to get physical. The “gentleman” smacks Tom with a bottle and drops him. Northerton is confined to quarters and Tom’s bleeding head wound gets him medical care.

We get a little more satirization of the medical profession–Fielding did not have much respect for doctors. I almost hope we see a few more people gravely ill or grievously injured just so we get more of this.

Tom’s been injured pretty bad three times so far–twice because of an assault. For a guy as wild has he supposedly is, he cannot take a punch.

Some shenanigans ensue around a proposed duel between the injured Tom and the assailant Northerton. Things get strange and Northerton books it.

These chapters are a bit more my liking than the last few—Fielding’s wit is easier to find, and there’s plenty of action (the former weighs more than the latter). Really, not much happened—but it was the way in that not much happened that made me enjoy these chapters.

I assume the problem is with me, I really do. But man, oh, man—Book VII is just not clicking with me. The story’s fine, but I’m not crazy with the pacing. Fielding’s narration isn’t doing much for me, either.

So, there’s some (figurative) kissing and making up between Sophia and her father as well as her father and her aunt. Which starts to give you a dash of hope, but then Blifil and Mr. Western get their heads together and things go downhill. We’ll start with Western talking Sophia into another meeting with Blifil.

Scenes like this, when painted at large, afford, as we have observed, very little Entertainment to the Reader. Here, therefore, we shall strictly adhere to a rule of Horace; by which Writers are directed to pass over all those Matters which they despair of placing in a shining Light;—a Rule, we conceive, of excellent Use as well to the Historian as to the Poet; and which, if followed, must at least have this good Effect, that many a great Evil (for so all great Books are called) would thus be reduced to a small one.

I do appreciate him sparing us that scene.

Blifil is so determined to beat Tom that he cons both Blifil and Allworthy (the former being very predisposed to believe him) into thinking that Sophia’s come around and arrangements are made to get married the next day. Her maid overhears Western making further arrangements and informs Sophia.

Sophia considers suicide at this point, but her maid dissuades her from that. So, she decides to run away from home—she has a friend in London who’ll take her in for a bit.

We get a quick glimpse of Tom—he gets some bad directions and ends up in a different location than he’d intended. He finds himself in an inn with a Quaker gentleman distraught over his daughter’s marriage to a poor man. So, that goes over about as well as you’d think. Details about Tom’s background and circumstance are circulated amongst people at the Inn—suddenly, his Quaker friend makes himself scarce and the landlord decides that he can’t use a room. So, Tom sleeps in the dining room—where it’s easy to keep an eye on this obvious scoundrel.

Hopefully, things get a bit better (in my own mind or the book, whichever is applicable) from here. There’s still a long way to go in this book, there’s plenty of time for that.