Tag: Classic Literature Page 5 of 6

After Allworthy pronounced his will in the reading from last week, we focused on everyone else in the house—and ignored Tom. Fielding now turns to focus on him. Tom doesn’t deal well with his guardian’s impending death—not that anyone else did, but Tom’s focused on Allworthy himself, not what he’s being left.

In the aftermath both of Blifil’s tragic news and Allworthy’s recovery, Tom and Thwackum bicker a bit and then Blifil and Tom get into a scuffle as well—tempers are short (and alcohol-fueled), but peace eventually prevails. Tom heads outside to cool down and turns his thoughts to Sophie—but he sees Molly doing some fieldwork (I don’t think Fielding specified, but she has a pitch-fork). The two chat a bit, and then head off into the bushes for some privacy.

Thwackum and Blifil have a similar idea—they’re taking a walk to get over the fights. Naturally, they see those two heading for the bushes. Blifil recognizes both of them, but Thwackum only sees a couple of people up to something. He heads off to try to stop the illicit behavior, and Blifil doesn’t do anything to stop him. The two make enough of a racket that the lovers know they’re coming.

Molly has gone into hiding and Tom goes to confront the interlopers and to keep them from discovering who the young woman was (which seems their primary concern). The fists start flying—and it’s kind of an amusing fight scene at the beginning. But the still recovering Tom starts to succumb to the numbers when he’s joined in the fight. A passerby is offended by the idea that two would fight one and jumps in to even the odds without wondering who the one is, much less the two.

It turns out that it’s Squire Western who’d joined the fray and he’s more than enough to turn the tide.

At this Time, the following was the Aspect of the bloody Field. In one Place lay on the Ground, all pale, and almost breathless, the vanquished Blifil. Near him stood the Conqueror Jones, almost covered with Blood, part of which was naturally his own, and part had been lately the Property of the Reverend Mr. Thwackum. In a third Place stood the said Thwackum, like King Porus, sullenly submitting to the Conqueror. The last Figure in the Piece was Western the Great, most gloriously forbearing the vanquished Foe.

Before Western came to Tom’s rescue, he’d been out for a walk with his wife and Sophie—who come upon that scene. Seeing Tom covered in blood is too much for Sophie, who faints dead away—until Tom revives her. Tom and the Westerns go their way and Blifil and Thwackum return to Allworthy’s and Book V comes to an end.

I’m honestly not sure what I think about this section—after the reading last week it looked liked things were starting to happen, but these chapters felt like a whole lot of tire spinning. Sure, it’s nice that things are getting a bit clearer between Blifil and Tom—and Tom and Sophie—it just felt like a little bit of a let-down (it also could’ve been that I had a hard time focusing). Still, the fight scene made it worthwhile.

I cheated a bit and read the first paragraph of Book VI, and I am looking forward to it, so there’s that…

A couple of bonus chapters to catch up, which was supposed to be up last week. Then this week’s…basically, this one going to go on for a bit.

Tom’s laid up (at Mr. Western’s, you may recall) recuperating and Allworthy comes by regularly to check on him and encourage moral reform. Thwackum does, too, naturally, he’s “more severe” than Allworthy. Squire Western is another regular visitor (it is his house) and gets drunk talking to him while Tom lies in bed—which seems to be a pretty good time. Fielding throwing in a drunken dialect to his already archaic British spelling made me have to read things out lout to get what was going on.

And eventually, Jones realizes—slowly, realistically—that he has actual feelings of love for Sophie. Mature love, not something selfish and adolescent, it’s one of the best descriptions of that kind of feeling I remember reading. Tom’s growing affection is stunted by Western’s frequent drunk discussions of getting Sophie married to a rich man. He wants to treat Western better than to frustrate his aims and he doesn’t want to lessen Allworthy’s esteem for him. Also…Molly. Molly’s in a precarious social position and he doesn’t want to abandon her.

It’s hard not to like the guy when he thinks like that (even if you can tell that it’s a narrative disaster waiting to happen).

And then like Sophie a few chapters back, he’d resolve to set aside his feelings for her to focus on Molly. And that would last until he spent time with her in the evenings listening to her play the pianoforte for her father. In addition to Fielding telling us this, there’s a great incident that showed this wonderfully. It took a couple of pages to set it up and a few paragraphs to execute, and was just great storytelling. It’s like allysonyj commented, a slow-building romance, the kind we don’t get to see anymore (and maybe not as much as we should have had before).

Though this Incident will probably appear of little Consequence to many of our readers; yet, trifling as it was, it had so violent an Effect on poor Jones, that we thought it our Duty to relate it. In reality, there are many little Circumstances too often omitted by injudicious Historians, from which Events of the utmost Importance arise. The World may indeed be considered as a vast Machine, in which the great Wheels are originally set in Motion by those which are very minute, and almost imperceptible to any but the strongest Eyes…

The Citadel of Jones was now taken by Surprize. All those Considerations of Honour and Prudence which our Heroe had lately with so much military Wisdom placed as Guards over the Avenues of his Heart, ran away from their Posts, and the God of Love marched in in Triumph.

But…Molly. What to do about her? He’s made some promises, and feels a good deal of compassion for her—he can’t just abandon her. Maybe, just maybe, he could buy her off—she’s really poor (and not a little bit vain), maybe a large sum of money that would leave her comfortable would do the trick. So he goes to visit her, he ended up waking her from a nap and proposes this to her. She bewails and laments the suggestion—how could he? She’ll never recover from this—oh, the heartbreak. I’ll admit, my eyes rolled a bit.

And then a nice bit of elaborate physical comedy ensues—as a result of her overly-dramatic response, she knocks a curtain aside, exposing Thwackum’s debate partner, Square in a state of undress. Apparently, a few weeks back, he’d been struck by her beauty (about the time that everyone in town realized she was with child) and pursued her. Honestly, “he liked the Girl the better for the Want of that Chastity.” Which is a pretty good reason to like him less.

The Reader will be mistaken, if he thinks Molly gave Square the Preference to her younger Lover: on the Contrary, had she been confined to the Choice of one only, Tom Jones would undoubtedly have been, of the two, the victorious Person. Nor was it solely the Consideration that two are better than one (tho’ this had its proper Weight) to which Mr. Square owed his Success: the Absence of Jones during his Confinement was an unlucky Circumstance; and in that Interval some well-chosen Presents from the Philosopher so softened and unguarded the Girl’s Heart, that a favourable Opportunity became irresistible, and Square triumphed over the poor Remains of Virtue which subsisted in the Bosom of Molly.

And in the fortnight between that time and Tom’s visit, things had apparently continued in that fashion. Square and Tom exchange some words about this, both pledging to keep their mouths shut about this incident and Tom leaves. The two lovers squabble a bit and then makeup and Sophie insists that everything she’d said to Tom mere moments before was a joke and that Square was the true master of her heart all along.

Not long after that Tom discovers (okay, fine, Molly’s jealous older sister tells him) that he wasn’t “the first Seducer of Molly” and that there’s a good chance that someone else could be the child’s father. And in a pre-Maury Povich world, it was impossible to say who was the daddy. The other potential father is named WIll Barnes and is quite the cad—he’s got a list of conquests, and either drove one broken-hearted girl to suicide or killed her himself.

Tom’s solely focused on Sophie and believes she feels the same, but he still had the same concerns about Western and Allworthy. Western is oblivious to Tom’s feelings (which he does a lousy job of hiding), but Sophie’s not—in fact, she sees them and encourages them. There’s a very sweet encounter between the two not long afterward, and you start to wonder how these two could possibly get together so early in the book.

Which is exactly when Allworthy falls ill. So dangerously ill that he summons his family—including Blifil, Thwackum, Square, some of the servants—and gives a few last words, just in case this disease kills him, which includes his Will. Thwackum and some of the servants are less than pleased with what he’s leaving them (at least compared to others) and are lamenting this when they’re interrupted with more news—Mrs. Blifil had died on her way to attend her brother. The chapter ends with them relating this news to Allworthy as he seems to be on the verge of recovery.

There’s just so much to take in here—I really didn’t do myself any favors by being too tired to write up the first part of this last week. But in short—this was just great. There’s great comedy, a little drama, and a lot of sweetness. Fielding’s voice is just great (as I’ve noted before) and the narration just carries you away. I’m really enjoying this book. That’s pretty much all there is to say.

A couple of bonus chapters to catch up…

We start off with Molly’s mother and sisters attacking her for being with child—an illegitimate child. Molly points to the hypocrisy of her mother—Molly’s oldest sister is 1 week younger than her parent’s marriage. Mom is having none of it. Her parents are trying to push her into Service at the Western’s, but she refuses and in the end, her mother will take the position. Molly’s refusal is because she’s convinced that her “Gentleman” will provide for her and the child much better.

The next night, Tom dines with Sophie, Squire Western and the local Parson. The Parson goes on about Molly and her condition, going on about the Bastard she’s carrying. Tom leaves the meal in a haste, prompting Squire Western to opine that Tom’s the father. This shows Sophie her true feelings about Tom while the Parson regrets the way this will lower Tom in Allworthy’s view.

Molly is about to be taken to a house of correction over her pregnancy when Tom claims the child as his own and begs for mercy from Mr. Allworthy. Allworthy relents and sends her home to her parents, lectures Tom and then goes off by himself for an evening of “melancholy Contemplation.” He’s a man of high morals and is horribly disappointed in Tom’s actions—but

whatever Detestation Mr. Allworthy had to this or to any other Vice, he was not so blinded by it but that he could discern any Virtue in the guilty Person, as clearly indeed as if there had been no Mixture of Vice in the same Character. While he was angry therefore with the Incontinence of Jones, he was no less pleased with the Honour and Honesty of his Self-accusation. He began now to form in his Mind the same Opinion of this young Fellow, which, we hope, our Reader may have conceived. And in balancing his Faults with his Perfections, the latter seemed rather to preponderate.

Nevertheless, Square takes this opportunity to twist and spin these events to convince Allworthy that Tom has only been Black George’s friend in order to corrupt Molly, and succeded to stamp “in the Mind of Allworthy the first bad Impression concerning Jones.”

Sophie is now battling with herself, resolved not to have anything to do with Tom any more and to stop loving him—she falls for him again and again every time she sees him. So she tries to avoid him, even coming up with a plan to visit her Aunt.

But Fortune, who had other Designs in her Head, put an immediate Stop to any Proceeding, by introducing an Accident, which will be related in the next Chapter.

What brings her to this accident? Well…

Mr. Western grew every Day fonder and fonder of Sophia, insomuch that his beloved Dogs themselves almost gave Place to her in his Affections; but as he could not prevail on himself to abandon these, he contrived very cunningly to enjoy their Company, together with that of his Daughter, by insisting on her riding a hunting with him.

While hunting, her horse got a little whiled and she was almost thrown from it. Tom arrives in the nick of time and catches her before she falls (and is likely trampled). He breaks his arm doing so, but shrugs off the injury.

Sophie stops fighting her feelings for Tom and Tom realizes that he has some for her.

There’s a whole lot of words involved in progressing things just a hair—but the best parts of this book isn’t so much about the story, but about the way that Fielding is telling it. As such, there’s a whole lot to enjoy in this part of the journey. Nothing as enjoyable as in some weeks, nothing as dull as in others—just a lot of pleasantness. Works for me.

I love the title to Chapter V so much, “Containing matter accommodated to every taste.” Chapter titles are such a lost art (and one I too often ignore even in good books).

To say the Truth, Sophia, when very young, discerned that Tom, though an idle, thoughtless, rattling Rascal, was nobody’s Enemy but his own; and that Master Blifil, though a prudent, discreet, sober young Gentleman, was at the same Time strongly attached to the Interest only of one single Person; and who that single Person was the Reader will be able to divine without any Assistance of ours.

Kinda says it all, doesn’t it? Alas,

as to Design upon her Person he had none; for which we shall at present suffer the Reader to condemn him of Stupidity

He treats her well, and seems to regard her with more respect than any others, but he doesn’t think of her “that” way. Still, he’s able to use her regard for him to get Sophia to persuade her father to hire Black George as a game keeper.

Then we get some explanations for why Tom is guilty of Stupidity regarding Sophia—while admiring him for treating her well and not trying to take advantage of her for her father’s money. Part of the reason for it is Black George’s second child, Molly. Molly is described as a good person, good looking, but less than ideally feminine—demonstrated in part by the way she pursues Tom. To Tom’s credit, for modesty’s sake, he avoids her.

There’s some more back and forth with Thwackum and Square about Tom and his morality, I’m not going to get into the details, it’s pretty much the same song, different verse. Technically, Tom’s wrong and they’re right, but his motives and inclinations are admirable and that’s what Allworthy focuses on. I’m not saying it’s not good reading, but it’s getting a bit repetitive.

Fun stuff, I like the way the narrator is so besotted by Sophie that he’s condemning Tom while conceding he’s right about the way he treats her.

We left off last week with the promise to meet

the intended Heroine of this Work, a Lady with whom we ourselves are greatly in Love, and with whom many of our Readers will probably be in Love too before we part

Before we meet her, we open Book IV with a little commentary on the Arts, how Heroes and Heroines are depicted and the like as a way to show us the excellency of this Heroine—Miss Sophia Western. Fielding goes on and on for pages about her—an introduction to her character, a description of her and all the wonderful things about her.

Then he recounts a story about young Tom, Sophia and Master Blifil. Blifil acts like a conniving bully, Tom does the right thing and Sophia suffers from the former’s antics and is comforted by the latter. I’m going to go out on a limb and say this is the beginning of a trend.

I enjoyed the introduction to Sophia and am looking forward to getting to know her better. I really don’t have much else to say about this week’s installment.

As I noted last week, Mrs. Blifil’s affection toward Tom was increasing (perhaps too much), and as that happened, her regard for her own son decreased. This keeps happening throughout this book—I’m not sure why everyone’s affections operate like seesaws here, but that’s the way it seems to be.

Case in point, when Mr. Allworthy saw Master Blifil being disliked by his own mother, “began, on that Account only, to look with an Eye of Compassion upon him.” Seeing “every Appearance of Virtue in the You thro’ the magnifying End, and viewed all his Faults with the Glass inverted, so that they became scarce perceptible.” And as that happened, guess what changes with Tom?

that poor Youth, (however innocent) began to sink in his Affections as he rose in hers. This, it is true would of itself alone never have been able to eradicate Jones form his Bosom; but it was greatly injurious to him, and prepared Mr. Allworthy’s Mind for those Impressions which afterwards produced the mighty Events, that will be contained hereafter in this History; and to which it must be confest, the unfortunate Lad, by his own Wantonness, Wildness, and Want of Caution, too much contributed.

In other words, this is going to prove to be important later—though ol’ Tommy Boy doesn’t do himself any favors.

This leads our Author to make an appearance in the text “by way of Chorus on the Stage,” to inject an important Life Lesson or two. It was nice of him to admit that’s what he was doing—even nicer that he did it with style.

Following this we see Tom get in trouble again, and Blifil helps make that situation worse. It doesn’t do the latter much good and, again, Tom’s good-heartedness is seen in the midst of this, giving Allworthy reason to respect him (we know from the quotation above that it’s not enough…). But in the end, Tom’s Game-keeper friend and his family are hurt by the results of all this, and Tom can’t get Allworthy on his side.

However, Mr. Western is the injured party (because the Game-keeper poached from him), and

Tom applied to Mr. Western’s Daughter, a young Lady of about seventeen Years of Age, whom her Father, next after those necessary Implements of Sport just before mentioned, loved and esteemed above all the World. Now, as she had some Influence on the Squire, so Tom had some little Influence on her. But this being the intended Heroine of this Work, a Lady with whom we ourselves are greatly in Love, and with whom many of our Readers will probably be in Love too before we part, it is by no Means proper she should make her Appearance at the End of a Book.

Maybe it’s just me, but that last sentence cracked me up. We’ll have to wait a week to meet her.

A slight improvement on last week, mostly because I enjoyed the Narrator’s voice in these chapters. But hopefully in Volume II, things’ll pick up.

After enjoying things so much last week, I hate to see things slip downward again this week–but I do understand why Fielding’s doing what he’s doing (at least I think I do). But yawn. It’s not that it was bad, it’s just the kind of thing that you need to read to establish one or more things so that future chapters/events will be interesting and make sense. It wouldn’t have occurred to me at all to evaluate these chapters if it weren’t for my reading schedule making them the only things I had to read.

We start with a long disclaimer/apology from Fielding for some of his content about religion/religious people–he’s not trying to focus on the failings of the religious or the virtuous, he says. On the contrary, those who come off poorly in his writing have a lack of real religion or virtue (despite their claims) and that’s what he’s highlighting. Whether or not this is sincere on his part I don’t know (I could probably read a lot about that if I cared to), but I like the approach, and it seems to apply to those we have seen/will see in these pages.

Basically, there’s an altercation between Master Blifil and Tom, resulting in Blifil getting his nose bloodied. To draw attention away from the fact that he provoked Tom, Blifil rats him out on some of the details of Tom’s earlier hijinks (recounted as evidence that he’s the sort “born to be hanged”). Tom had refused to name his accomplices at the time, but Blifil spilled the beans. Thwackum takes this as a sign of virtue in Blifil and proof of Tom’s hooligan status. Mr. Allworthy, on the other hand, sees honor in Tom’s refusal and commends it–but even better for Tom (I imagine), this act earns him a lot of fans within the servants.

The widowed Mrs. Blifil picks up a couple of other suitors, who misreading the situation, go out of their way to prefer her son to Tom and target him for condemnation. But all the while, her affections toward Tom grow and grow.

That’s the chapters in a nutshell, not a lot actually happens. I get the impression that Master Blifil is going to be a pain in Tom’s side in the way rich, preppy kids are to plucky middle/lower-class protagonists in 80’s movies. Not a lot happens, but I’m willing to bet all this comes up later. If not in the next chapter, soon enough.

Now this was more like it! We start off with getting a bit more insight into Capt. Blifil, who when not having to spend time with his wife, spends his time lost in his own thoughts, which were

were entirely employed on Mr. Allworthy’s Fortune; for, first, he exercised much Thought in calculating, as well as he could, the exact Value of the whole: which Calculations he often saw Occasion to alter in his own Favour: And, secondly and chiefly, he pleased himself with intended Alterations in the House and Gardens, and in projecting many other Schemes, as well for the Improvement of the Estate as of the Grandeur of the Place. For this Purpose he applied himself to the Studies of Architecture and Gardening, and read over many Books on both these Subjects; for these Sciences, indeed, employed his whole Time, and formed his only Amusement. He at last completed a most excellent Plan: and very sorry we are, that it is not in our Power to present it to our reader, since even the Luxury of the present Age, I believe, would hardly match it.

Y’know, just in case anyone forgot what he was really in love with when he entered into this marriage. One evening, while strolling by himself, “his Heart was exulting in Meditations on the Happiness which would accrue to him by Mr. Allworthy’s Death, he himself—died of an Apoplexy.” Yup. That’s right. Forty-seven pages after his introduction—seemingly as a major impediment for Tom to overcome—he’s dead. We spent so much time on him, his relationship with his wife and brother-in-law, etc. and he just dies in a sentence. Well, that’s not true, it seems like he does, but we end up spending a few more pages on his being pronounced dead after this, but that’s beside my point. In some books, I’d be annoyed by this, but I was amused by this little bit of fakery on Fielding’s part.

The hullabaloo surrounding finding his body, trying to resuscitate him and so on does give Fielding a chance to satirize the practice of medicine, which I enjoyed.

Which brings us to Book III, which is wonderfully entitled, “Containing the most memorable Transactions which passed in the Family of Mr. Allworthy from the Time when Tommy Jones arrived at the Age of Fourteen, till he attained the Age of Nineteen. In this Book the Reader may pick up some Hints concerning the Education of Children.” That last sentence just made my day, really (as did the title to Chapter 1 “Containing little or nothing,” I like some honesty in labeling)

The Reader will be pleased to remember, that, at the Beginning of the Second Book of this History, we gave him a Hint of our Intention to pass over several large Periods of Time, in which nothing happened worthy of being recorded in a Chronicle of this Kind.

In so doing, we do not only consult our own Dignity and Ease, but the Good and Advantage of the Reader: for besides that by these Means we prevent him from throwing away his Time, in reading without either Pleasure or Emolument, we give him, at all such Seasons, an Opportunity of employing that wonderful Sagacity, of which he is Master, by filling up these vacant Spaces of Time with his own Conjectures…

Now that Tommy is a young man, we get to meet him “…shall now bring forth our Heroe, at about fourteen Years of Age, not questioning that any have been long impatient to be introduced to his Acquaintance.” Yup, I’m not alone in getting fed up with this. For the record, “Heroe” (like all the weird capitalization) is what my book has.

Tom Jones is, apparently, “universally disliked” in his community (unlike Master Blifil, who is the model citizen), in fact,

we are obliged to bring our Heroe on the stage in a much more disadvantageous Manner than we could wish; and to declare honestly, even at his first Appearance, that it was the universal Opinion of all Mr. Allworthy’s Family that he was certainly born to be hanged.

“Born to be hanged…” I’ve got to find a way to use that line.

Tommy has a propensity to many vices, but a strong tendency to robbery—and at this point has already been convicted of three of them. We get a little information about them and his refusal to name names. It’s not really commended (but you can read it between the lines), that he doesn’t give up his accessories or accomplices—even under corporal punishment. Mr. Allworthy calls it a “mistaken Point of Honour” for him to be that way, but others don’t agree.

To help get him to confess (and implicate others), his tutor is brought in to whip him,. This tutor is named, most fittingly, Mr. Thwackum. That right there is the way to name a character, ladies and gentlemen. Sure, he may go on to play an important role, he may end up showing wisdom and insight, but at the end of the day, let’s not forget—his main role is to Thwack ’em around.

In these chapters, we get Capt. Blifil killed off, we meet Tommy—and see right away that he’s going to be an atypical “Heroe” at best—and the story starts to pick up, all with some fun narration and asides (most of which I left for you to discover for yourself). Once again, I’m very tempted to keep going here. At the very least, this makes up for last week’s chapters.

(for the pedants here wanting to point out that this is Saturday, I actually wrote this on Friday, but between distractions and being called away from my computer for a bit, didn’t get to hit “Publish.”)

It was good that we got the warning a coule of chapters back about chapter length and focus on long/short time periods, because we got some pretty long chapters (longest yet) about a brief period of time here.

Mrs. Wilkins, Tom’s chief caretaker, is no fool. She sees a future wherein Capt. Blifil has taken the place of Mr. Allworthy as her employer and starts to curry favor with him and gives him more reasons than he already had to disapprove of Tom, which leads to a trial for a suspected father of “little Tommy.” It seems to me that an innocent man was the victim of a smear campaign started by his wife and was railroaded. But honestly, I had a hard time caring about this part and my eyes glazed over a bit—I’ll come back and revisit the chapter if it turns out to be important.

The Narrator gives a few humorous observations about marriage leading to the observation that as the Captain grows in his antipathy for little Tommy, he does so in a way that it ends up moving Mrs. Blifil to love him more—to the point that she loves him “almost equally with her own Child.”

I really didn’t connect with anything in these chapters, honestly. The writing was charming and it did make me smile a few times, but I just didn’t see why I should care about anything here. Which probably means that this is vital and in 400 pages I’ll be kicking myself for not understanding something that Fielding laid the groundwork for here.

After a imposed-break last week, we’re back with a double-length post.

Infants, it seems, are pretty dull. Dull enough that in a book calling itself a history of a person, we’re going to ignore that person for a while, because he’s just lying around in cribs, crying, and soiling clothes (I guess). It makes sense, because we’ve got to set up problems for him to deal with when he’s of age.

The problem in these chapters is represented by a Captain Blifil, his brother, a Doctor who had some strong feelings toward Mr. Allworthy’s sister:

The doctor found himself so agreeable to Miss Bridget, that he now began to lament an unfortunate Accident which had happened to him about ten Years before; namely, his Marriage with another Woman, who was not only still alive, but, what was worse, known to be so by Mr. Allworthy.

Therefore, in an act of logic that I don’t quite grasp, the Doctor introduces his brother to her for the purposes of marriage.

To deal plainly with the Reader, the Captain, ever since his Arrival, at least from the Moment his Brother had proposed the Match to him, long before he had discovered any flattering Symptoms in Miss Bridget, had been greatly enamoured; that is to say, of Mr. Allworthy’s House and Gardens, and of his Lands, Tenements, and Hereditaments; of all which the Captain was so passionately fond, that he would most probably have contracted Marriage with them, had he been obliged to have taken the Witch of Endor into the Bargain.

He’s clearly a real keeper, right? He does discover a flattering Symptom or two in Miss Bridget, and she’s smitten, too. They get married and soon produce a child—an heir for Mr. Allworthy. I predict this will become a problem for Tom.

By the way, we see him a little bit here—and he’s given a name! We learn that he’s named Thomas after Mr. Allworthy, who spends time with the tyke daily and defends his affection for the boy against Blifil’s antagonism toward Thomas. The child then promptly disappears, and we get some more speculation into his paternity.

The narrator takes a moment to comment on his method. He’s not going to get into every detail about Tom Jones’ life the same way:

When any extraordinary Scene presents itself (as we trust will often be the Case), we shall spare no Pains nor Paper to open it at large to our Reader; but if whole Years should pass without producing anything worthy his Notice, we shall not be afraid of a Chasm in our History; but shall hasten on to Matters of Consequence, and leave such Periods of Time totally unobserved…

My Reader then is not to be surprised, if, in the Course of this Work, he shall find some Chapters very short, and others altogether as long; some that contain only the Time of a single Day, and others that comprise Years; in a word, if my History sometimes seems to stand still, and sometimes to fly.

Once again, I love the narrator’s voice, particularly when the reader is being addressed directly. I’d like a little more to be going on in the book—but Fielding’s sentences are rambling and circuitous, I’ve got to expect his novel will, too. I’m willing to wait for something to happen, but I’ll enjoy the book more when it does.