The development of the English realistic novel

The foundations of early bourgeois realism were laid by Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift, but their novels, though of a new type and with a new hero, were based on imaginary voyages and adventures supposed to take place far from England. Gradually the readers' tastes changed. They wanted to find more and more of their own life reflected in literature, that is to say, the everyday life of a bourgeois family with its joys and sorrows. These demands were satisfied when the great novels of Samuel Richardson, Henry Fielding, and Tobias Smollett appeared one after another. They marked a new stage in the development of the art of writing. The greatest merit of these novelists lies in their deep sympathy for the common man, the man in the street, who had become the central figure of the new bourgeois world. The common man is shown in his actual surroundings, which makes him so convincing, believable, and true to life.

Henry Fielding

(1707-1754)

His Life and Work

Henry Fielding, the greatest representative of bourgeois realism in the 18^th century, was a descendant of an ancient, aristocratic family. He studied at the old-established boys' school of Eton.

At the age of twenty he started writing for the stage, and his first play "Love in Several Masques" was a great success with the public. The same year he entered the philological faculty of the University at Leyden, but in less than two years he had to drop his studies because he was unable to pay his fees.

From 1728 till 1738, twenty-five plays were written by Fielding. In his best comedies: "A Judge Caught in His Own Trap" (1730), "Don Quixote in England" (1734), and "Pasquin" (1736), he mercilessly exposed the English court of law, the parliamentary system, the corruption of state officials, and religion. Evidently, as a result of the popular success of Fielding comedies, strict censorship of the stage was introduced, which put an end to Fielding's career as a dramatist. Being unable to write for the stage, he was obliged to decide on some means by which to earn his living. He tried his pen as a novelist; besides, at the age of thirty he became a student of a University law faculty. On graduating, he became a barrister and in 1748 accepted the post of magistrate. This work enlarged his experience, helped him to acquire a better understanding of human nature and greatly increased his hatred of social injustice. Being unable to do away with social evils, he exposed them in his books.

In the period from 1742 to 1752 Fielding wrote his best novels: "Joseph Andrews" (1742), "The Life of Mr. Jonathan Wild the Great" (1743), "The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling" (1749), and "Amelia" (1752). All these novels, excellent as they were, didn't make him rich; only his publishers prospered. Fielding continued to act as a judge till the year 1754, when he had to leave England for Portugal to restore his health, which had begun to fail. But the warm climate of the country did not help him; he died in Libson in October, 1754 and was buried there.

Fielding possessed qualities rarely found together: a rich imagination, coupled with great critical power and a keen knowledge of the human heart. He used to say that the three essential qualities in a novelist are genius, learning, and experience of human nature - genius alone is not sufficient without a good share of learning; nature can only furnish us with capacity. All these qualities, which he undoubtedly possessed himself, made him the favourite novelist of Karl Marx.

The qualities of candour and sincerity are especially apparent in Fielding's works. His characters are all-round living beings of flesh and blood, a combination of contradictions of good and bad. The virtues he appreciates greatest are courage, frankness and generosity. The most detestable vices for him are selfishness and hypocrisy. He can forgive frivolity and light-mindedness, but he has no pity for actions which arise from calculating or conventional motives.

All this found its expression in Fielding's masterpiece "Tom Jones".

"TOM JONES"

The novel consists of eighteen books, each beginning with an introductory chapter where the author discourses with the reader, in a free and easy manner, on certain moral and psychological themes. The plot of the novel is very complicated, its construction is carefully worked out, every detail being significant. Depicting England of the 18^th century, Fielding touches upon all spheres of life. We are shown the courts of law, the prison, the church, the homes of people of all classes, inns and highways, even the theatre. Many people of different social ranks and professions are introduced. The charm of the book lies in the depiction of Tom's character. He is human in the everyday sense of the word, neither idealized nor ridiculed and at the same time full-blooded. His open, generous and passionate nature leads him into a long series of adventures. Tom acts on impulse, sometimes well and sometimes ill, but never from interested motives. He is light-minded and naive; but kind, honest and unselfish, always ready to help anyone who needs his assistance. If he heaps fault upon fault and misfortune on misfortune, it is because he is continually falling a victim to prejudice and is caught in the snare of hypocrisy. His intentions are noble and good, but owing to his simple-heartedness, which is often coupled with bad luck, he is constantly accused of vices he is not guilty of.

The extract given below describes an adventure which happened to Tom Jones on his journey to London and which reveals some traits of his character. As soon as Tom learns of the poor man's misery and distress, he is ready to give him his last guinea, in spite of the fact that some minutes before the man wanted to rob him.

WHAT HAPPENED TO MR. JONES IN HIS JOURNEY FROM ST. ALBANS

They were got about two miles beyond Barnet, and it was now the dusk of the evening, when a genteel-looking man, but upon a very shabby horse, rode up to Jones, and asked him whether he was going to London; to which Jones answered in the affirmative. The gentleman replied, 'I should be obliged to you, sir, if you will accept of my company; for it is very late, and I am a stranger to the road.' Jones readily complied with the request; and on they travelled together, holding that sort of discourse which is usual on such occasions.

Of this, indeed, robbery was the principal topic: upon which subject the stranger expressed great apprehension; but Jones declared he had very little to lose, and consequently as little to fear. Here Partridge could not forbear putting in his word. 'Your honour,' said he, 'may think it a little, but I am sure, if I had a hundred-pound bank-note in my pocket, as you have, I should be very sorry to lose it; but, for my part, I never was less afraid in my life; for we are four of us, and if we all stand by one another, the best man in England can't rob us. Suppose he should have a pistol, he can kill but one of us, and a man can die but once. - That's my comfort, a man can die but once.'

Besides the reliance on superior numbers, a kind of valour which hath raised a certain nation among the moderns to a high pitch of glory, there was another reason for the extraordinary courage which Partridge now discovered (here showed, displayed); for he had at present as much of that quality as was in the power of liquor to bestow.

Our company were now arrived within a mile of Highgate, when the stranger turned short upon Jones, and pulling out a pistol, demanded that little bank-note which Partridge had mentioned.

Jones was at first somewhat shocked at this unexpected demand; however, he presently recollected himself, and told the highwayman, all the money he had in his pocket was entirely at his service; and so saying, he pulled out upwards of three guineas, and offered to deliver it; but the other answered with an oath. That would not do. Jones answered coolly, he was very sorry for it, and returned the money into his pocket.

The highwayman then threatened, if he did not deliver the bank-note that moment, he must shoot him; holding his pistol at the same time very near to his breast. Jones instantly caught hold of the fellow's hand, which trembled so that he could scarce hold the pistol in it, and turned the muzzle from him. A struggle then ensued, in which the former wrested the pistol from the hand of his antagonist, and both came from their horses on the ground together, the highwayman upon his back, and the victorious Jones upon him.

The poor fellow now began to implore mercy of the conqueror; for, to say the truth, he was in strength by no means a match for Jones. 'Indeed, sir,' says he, 'I could have had no intention to shoot you; for you will find the pistol not loaded. This is the first robbery I ever attempted, and I have been driven by distress to this.'

At this instant, at about a hundred and fifty yards' distance, lay another person on the ground, roaring for mercy in a much louder voice than the highwayman. This was no other than Partridge himself, who, endeavouring to make his escape from the engagement, had been thrown from his horse, and lay flat on his face, not daring to look up, and expecting every minute to be shot.

In this posture he lay, till the guide, who was no otherwise concerned than for his horses, having secured the stumbling beast, came up to him, and told him his master had got the better of the highwayman.

Partridge leapt up at this news, and ran back to the place where Jones stood with his sword drawn in his hand to guard the poor fellow; which Partridge no sooner saw, than he cried out, 'Kill the villain, sir, run him through the body, kill him this instant!'

Luckily, however, for the poor wretch, he had fallen into more merciful hands; for Jones having examined the pistol, and found it to be really unloaded, began to believe all the man had told him, before Partridge came up: namely, that he was a novice in the trade, and that he had been driven to it by the distress he mentioned, the greatest indeed imaginable, that of five hungry children, and a wife lying in of the sixth, in the utmost want and misery. The truth of all which the highwayman most vehemently asserted, and offered to convince Mr. Jones of it, if he would take the trouble to go to his house, which was not above two miles off; saying, 'That he desired no favour, but upon condition of proving all he had alledged.' (old spelling of alleged).

Jones at first pretended that he would take the fellow at his word and go with him, declaring that his fate should depend entirely on the truth of his story. Upon this the poor fellow immediately expressed so much alacrity, that Jones was perfectly satisfied with his veracity, and began now to entertain sentiments of compassion for him. He returned the fellow his empty pistol, advised him to think of honester means of relieving his distress, and gave him a couple of guineas for the immediate support of his wife and his family; adding, 'he wished he had more for his sake, for the hundred pound that had been mentioned was not his own.'

Our readers will probably be divided in their opinions concerning this action; some may applaud it perhaps as an act of extraordinary humanity, while those of a more saturnine temper will consider it as a want of regard to that justice which every man owes his country. Partridge certainly saw it in that light; for he testified much dissatisfaction on the occasion, quoted an old proverb, and said, he should not wonder if the rogue attacked them again before they reached London.

The highwayman was full of expressions of thankfulness and gratitude. He actually dropt tears, or pretended so to do. He vowed he would immediately return home, and would never afterwards commit such a transgression: whether he kept his word or no, perhaps may appear hereafter.

Our travellers having remounted their horses, arrived in town without encountering any new mishap. On the road much pleasant discourse passed between Jones and Partridge, on the subject of their last adventure: in which Jones expressed a great compassion for those highwaymen who are, by unavoidable distress, driven, as it were, to such illegal courses as generally bring them to a shameful death: 'I mean,' said he, 'those only whose highest guilt extends no farther that to robbery.'

(Book XII, Chapter XIV)

The extract also shows the author's attitude to criminals. Fielding makes the reader sympathize with "the highwayman". He does not blame the man for his intention to rob Tom. Fielding justifies robbers and seeks to prove that they are not to blame for the crimes they commit, as he understands the true cause of them. To his mind, the responsibility lies with those who make them starve.

* * * *

In "Tom Jones" Fielding established a new standard of novel-writing by combining the strict, concise structure of drama with the breadth and variety of the picaresque novel.*

· A genre, wide-spread in European literature from the 16^th century, in which the rogue-hero tells about his adventures. (The word "picaresque" comes from the Spanish word "picaro" - an adventurer, a rogue.) He is usually a poor man who tries, by hook or by crook, to gain a place in life. Picaresque novels depict the life of the time with broad realism and satire. They influenced the prose fiction of the Enlightenment.

For a combination of perfectly logical and well-knit plot with a wealth and vividness of characterization, "Tom Jones" knows very few rivals among the great novels of world literature.