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A review by heyimaghost
Tom Jones by Henry Fielding
5.0
I am done with The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling. Part of me never thought I’d say that, though I think it took me longer to read The Magic Mountain. I probably could’ve finished it in less time than I did had I not read along with it some nonfiction, some poetry, and some Shakespeare. It’s such an immersive novel though, that even while reading those others works, it felt like I was reading them from within the world Fielding had created.
I’m a little disappointed in myself for not reading it sooner. I wish I had read it before I got into Victorian literature. Then when I read Vanity Fair or The Pickwick Papers, I could say, “Yes, Fielding’s work is here.” Unfortunately, I read Fielding and am reminded of Thackeray and Dickens, as well as a large number of other novelists he’s influenced, which is nearly all of them in the last two hundred years.
I’d recommend anyone who is beginning to read Victorian literature to read Tom Jones beforehand (and it is not a Victorian novel, in case you don’t understand your literary periods), so you can understand everything from the literary style to the literary theory of the books you’re about to read. Fielding was writing at a time when the art form known as the novel was in its infancy. In fact, some people might say, though it’d be kind of weird, the parents of the English novel are Samuel Richardson and Henry Fielding. Fielding, in this metaphor, would be the mother of the English novel, since Richardson’s Pamela impregnated Fielding with his idea for the parody novel Shamela, but it’s a flawed metaphor, since what really brings Fielding into importance is the novel after that, Joseph Andrews—a novel Fielding modeled after Don Quixote and was called by its author a “comic epic-poem in prose.” The fruition of this new style was his masterpiece, The History of Tom Jones.
It is often called a “rollicking, fun romance” by online reviews I’ve read. (I feel like I almost never hear the word rollicking outside of online reviews for novels of this type, saving the occasional review of folk-pop album. It should be used in more common conversation.) It’s not an inaccurate description, and the same could be applied to Don Quixote or, so I’ve heard, Ulysses, but it does kind of leave a hollow sound when faced with the actual importance of what the work has done. If the reader doesn’t skip the introductory chapters of each book, which Fielding says he’s fine with you doing, then he’ll see a growing literary theory that one can trace from these early years of the art form all the way to present day. He deals with, mostly, what it means to be an author and what responsibility that title confers, but he also deals with issues of criticism, as well as moral topics; and all of these subjects are played out in both the style and content of the novel.
All of this deserves far more complex treatment than I’m willing to go into in a Goodreads review—in fact, I lament the idea of “reviewing” a novel like Tom Jones in the first place. What I really recommend to anyone who really wants to understand the English novel is to just read Tom Jones. (One should also be recommended to read Richardson’s Clarissa and Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, but since I’ve only read the latter, I’ll refrain from making that recommendation.) But first, if you haven’t already read them, read Don Quixote and Hamlet (and everything else by Shakespeare). Then, read The Pickwick Papers and Vanity Fair. Then, read every novel written after that.
Oh, and I didn’t even touch on Fielding’s influence on Jane Austen! Well, with a sigh of defeat, I’ll stop typing, since I’m afraid no one would’ve read this far anyway.
I’m a little disappointed in myself for not reading it sooner. I wish I had read it before I got into Victorian literature. Then when I read Vanity Fair or The Pickwick Papers, I could say, “Yes, Fielding’s work is here.” Unfortunately, I read Fielding and am reminded of Thackeray and Dickens, as well as a large number of other novelists he’s influenced, which is nearly all of them in the last two hundred years.
I’d recommend anyone who is beginning to read Victorian literature to read Tom Jones beforehand (and it is not a Victorian novel, in case you don’t understand your literary periods), so you can understand everything from the literary style to the literary theory of the books you’re about to read. Fielding was writing at a time when the art form known as the novel was in its infancy. In fact, some people might say, though it’d be kind of weird, the parents of the English novel are Samuel Richardson and Henry Fielding. Fielding, in this metaphor, would be the mother of the English novel, since Richardson’s Pamela impregnated Fielding with his idea for the parody novel Shamela, but it’s a flawed metaphor, since what really brings Fielding into importance is the novel after that, Joseph Andrews—a novel Fielding modeled after Don Quixote and was called by its author a “comic epic-poem in prose.” The fruition of this new style was his masterpiece, The History of Tom Jones.
It is often called a “rollicking, fun romance” by online reviews I’ve read. (I feel like I almost never hear the word rollicking outside of online reviews for novels of this type, saving the occasional review of folk-pop album. It should be used in more common conversation.) It’s not an inaccurate description, and the same could be applied to Don Quixote or, so I’ve heard, Ulysses, but it does kind of leave a hollow sound when faced with the actual importance of what the work has done. If the reader doesn’t skip the introductory chapters of each book, which Fielding says he’s fine with you doing, then he’ll see a growing literary theory that one can trace from these early years of the art form all the way to present day. He deals with, mostly, what it means to be an author and what responsibility that title confers, but he also deals with issues of criticism, as well as moral topics; and all of these subjects are played out in both the style and content of the novel.
All of this deserves far more complex treatment than I’m willing to go into in a Goodreads review—in fact, I lament the idea of “reviewing” a novel like Tom Jones in the first place. What I really recommend to anyone who really wants to understand the English novel is to just read Tom Jones. (One should also be recommended to read Richardson’s Clarissa and Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, but since I’ve only read the latter, I’ll refrain from making that recommendation.) But first, if you haven’t already read them, read Don Quixote and Hamlet (and everything else by Shakespeare). Then, read The Pickwick Papers and Vanity Fair. Then, read every novel written after that.
Oh, and I didn’t even touch on Fielding’s influence on Jane Austen! Well, with a sigh of defeat, I’ll stop typing, since I’m afraid no one would’ve read this far anyway.