Oh, Tom.

My British reading list is kind of wide-ranging, and I haven’t exactly followed a chronological order as I read. After finishing Bede, it felt like time for a novel. The first one on my list? The History of Tome Jones, a Foundling, by Henry Fielding, published in 1745.

Of all the novels written in England, how in the world did I settle on this one? There were a few reasons…first, I wanted a deeply atmospheric English novel, and I was looking for a book that was popular when it was published. I was hoping for a book I could dip into, that I wouldn’t be sad about leaving after reading just a portion. I was looking for insight into England after the Tudors, after the Glorious Revolution. And if the novel were fun, maybe even lighthearted? So much the better.

Tom Jones is a far cry from Bede! As much as I loved that beautiful history, when I finished I needed something…brighter. At a minimum I needed some fiction, so I jumped ahead to the first non-Shakespeare fiction, and here we are.

This is a massive novel, nearly 900 pages! Thinking about Ted’s guidelines from last year’s project, I had thought I could allocate a week or two, a couple hundred pages, and then I’d move on to another book. That was the plan. Instead, I hung in there for every word and had one of the most unexpectedly fun reading experiences I’ve had in a while.

Briefly, Tom Jones follows our hero (Tom, of course) from his being found as a newborn in Squire Allworthy’s chamber—who put him there? Where did he come from?—through his childhood until he reaches young adulthood in southwestern England. The Squire, always kind and generous, adopts the baby to raise as his son. Tom is raised alongside Allworthy’s nephew Blifil, nearly as brothers, definitely as rivals. Tom is an easy hero to root for: open-hearted, good-looking, kind, and always up for a good time. His love interest? Sophia Western, the beautiful girl next door, literally. Naturally, there are twists and turns on the path to true love (not the least of which is Tom’s libido), but without those problems there wouldn’t be a story! But this novel is far more about the journey than the destination.

Let’s take a moment to discuss Henry Fielding. He was a prolific playwright and author, and also published a literary and political journal for a few years. Commercially oriented, he was happy to satirize anything he thought needed deflating. One of the great pleasures of this novel is how the narrator (Fielding, sometimes lightly camouflaged) discusses the shortcomings of competing authors and how quick he is to pat himself on the back. It doesn’t come across as mean or arrogant, though—like the rest of the novel it’s done with a wink and a grin.

The structure of the novel gave me the impression that I was getting to know Fielding, too. The novel is told in a series of books, each book made up of chapters. In the first chapter of every book, the narrator addresses himself directly to us, the readers. His topic is usually the construction of the novel itself, or comparison to other novels, or a technique he’s going to employ in the next book, or a warning that he might not be entirely reliable. These introductory chapters take you out of the story but they work; Fielding is very much pulling the curtain back on how things happen, and it was a terrific addition to the novel, not distracting at all. In fact, I think there’s an argument that you could read all these initial chapters on their own, back-to-back, and learn quite a bit about the craft of writing novels.

So with all of this, did I get what I was after when I added Tom Jones to my reading list?

Geographically, the book is oriented around the southern half of England, largely between Bath and London. One of my goals for my British list was to do some advance reading for our Yorkshire trip, much further north. So this did miss the mark.

I was hoping for a novel that cut across social classes, too—something unlike Jane Austen’s novels, for example. Tom Jones definitely delivered on that. While Fielding places our heroes in an upper class, we get to know servants, gamekeepers, innkeepers, country whores, and parsons. The cast of characters is very well-drawn, and no character is purely good or bad. Fielding seems to have constructed backstories for everyone, giving us the readers an idea of how social mobility both up and down society’s ladder might work. I loved that aspect of the work. There were so very many good characters.

Fielding also drops little nuggets along the way that give us an idea of what life was like. The rampant and not-always-accurate Latin phrases and mythology references point to the level of education common education level amongst the reading classes. The formality of social visits and courting contrasts wildly to the more flexible morals many characters have, especially around romance. And one of my favorite little asides was about Sophia’s music. Our heroine is gifted at the harpsichord and plays often for her father. Fielding dropped a casual remark that Handel had gone out of fashion, although not in Sophia’s heart. A note said that Handel’s reputation didn’t recover until he composed Judas Maccabeus, which was so good that his fans couldn’t resist him any longer. Who knew that Handel had cycled through good and bad press?! I had no idea.

The best part of this novel, though, was how unexpectedly, how thoroughly fun it was, pure and simple. It’s a fabulous story. Even though the end isn’t every really in doubt, Fielding managed to surprise me over and over, especially in the last third, as he twists the plot and sets up a couple of very funny blind alleys. I’m not sure I’ve ever read a book more accurately described as “rollicking.”

And that’s why I couldn’t stop reading it. Of course Fielding’s language is a little overblown—it’s from the 18th century AND he’s trying to be over the top. Of course it’s bawdy and exaggerated, but it’s all truly good-spirited fun. I don’t know when I’ve read such a funny, happy book.

Is it for everyone? No, probably not. The language can be heavy, wordy, a little ponderous, and you might not want to put up with that. I made good use of the endnotes, and that might not be fun, either. And, at its heart, this is a romance, not a “History” as Fielding tries to convince us in the title. But if none of that warns you off, I say go for it.

By the way, you might be thinking you’ve heard of a movie called Tom Jones—yes! Tom Jones won the 1963 Best Picture Oscar, pretty unusual for a comedy. The movie is indeed terrific, and it is wacky, completely capturing the madcap spirit of the novel. Even though it omits a couple of my favorite characters, it’s well worth your time. I’m pretty sure the boys from Monty Python watched this one in their formative years.

This is such an uncritically enthusiastic look at Tom Jones. Don’t think there aren’t themes you can pull out—social mores in classes, the obligations of children and parents, even reflections on the different parsons we meet. Sometimes it is fine to read a book like that. But in this case, it was fun to just let the book be what Fielding intended, first and foremost: pure enjoyment. What a pleasure.