Henry Fielding's 309th Birthday

A portrait of Henry by an unknown artist.

Today is the 309th birthday of the 18th century British writer Henry Fielding, whose work has inspired the likes of Austen, Dickens, and many other authors. Fielding was born on April 22, 1707, in Somerset, England, and three years later his parents moved to Dorset. After losing his mother at age 11, Henry was taken in hand by his maternal grandmother, who intended to care for him better than his feckless, pleasant father (a lieutenant general) could. Henry attended Eton, then set about looking to make his way in the world. His careers were many and varied, not unlike the adventures of his picaresque protagonists Joseph Andrews and Tom Jones. Setting himself up in London, he took to playwriting and theatrical management - beginning in 1728, he produced many successful shows, mainly satirical comedies (and in 1734, he married his much-beloved wife, Charlotte Craddock) but unfortunately in 1737, Robert Walpole, a corrupt statesman - and the butt of most of Fielding's theatrical mockery for that reason - got the Licensing Act passed, which essentially declared that all plays from thenceforward should be censored by the government. Henry decided it was time to seek another path. His loss was literature's gain; after establishing himself as a lawyer, he tried his hand at writing fiction. His first work was a parody of Samuel Richardson's 1740 novel Pamela, the tale of a servant girl who resists her wealthy master's advances, eventually convinces him to mend his ways, and marries him; Richardson's detailed descriptions of their improper encounters prior to the master's change of heart irked Henry, who saw the author as a voyeur, despite his claims that his book was a source of moral instruction for young women. Henry's 1741 spoof, entitled An Apology for the Life of Mrs. Shamela Andrews (Shamela for short) purported to tell the true story of Richardson's heroine; instead of being a modest maid, Shamela is revealed to be a scheming hussy. In 1742, he wrote The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews, and of His Friend Mr. Abraham Adams (a.k.a. Joseph Andrews), which described the escapades of Pamela's brother Joseph, Henry's own creation. The pure Joseph, accompanied by the kindly Parson Adams, fends off the advances of several ladies as he journeys the highways and byways, longing only to marry his sweetheart Fanny Goodwill. In the end, the lovers are united. Since this book didn't do much to supplement his pay as a lawyer, especially since he now had children (though one of his daughters died in 1742), he published a volume of Miscellanies in 1743. Charlotte died in 1744, and the heartbroken Henry suffered from gout, but these personal afflictions didn't deter him from working on his best-known novel The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling (Tom Jones for short). This tale, by turns mirthful and moving, recounts the adventures of the warm-hearted, hot-blooded Tom as he bounds in and out of scrapes (usually of an amatory nature) around the countryside, all the while pining for his true love Sophia Western. As in Joseph Andrews, all ends happily. Henry's fondness for his hero is evident; he shares with Tom a genuine generosity towards his fellow men, one of his benefactors, Ralph Allen, inspired the character of Tom's worthy guardian Squire Allworthy, and I suspect that his second marriage in 1747 to his maid Mary Daniel who was six months pregnant with his baby had some influence on the incident where Tom prepares to make an honest woman of Molly Seagrim since he believes her to be carrying his child; the wedding doesn't occur since Molly jilts him for another man (from all accounts, Henry cared a great deal for Mary, who supported him in his sorrow). The lovely Sophia, he states, is based on his departed spouse. Invoking the poetic muse (he was influenced by epic poets including Homer) he writes: Foretel me that some tender Maid, whose Grandmother is yet unborn, hereafter, when, under the fictitious Name of Sophia, she reads the real Worth which once existed in my Charlotte, shall, from her sympathetic Breast, send forth the heaving Sigh. 
I certainly sighed when I first read that. He continues: Do thou teach me not only to foresee, but to enjoy, nay, even to feed on future Praise. Comfort me by a solemn Assurance, that when the little Parlour in which I sit at this Instant, shall be reduced to a worse furnished Box, I shall be read, with Honour, by those who never knew nor saw me, and whom I shall neither know nor see.
Sadly, Henry has been viewed by many not as an writer worthy of honor, but as a vile-minded fellow who wrote of nothing but sex. He would be deeply hurt if he knew this; though there are some sexual incidents in his books, they're never explicit or gratuitous, they're there to reveal some clue about a character. Henry upheld virtue in his stories, as he says in the preface to Tom Jones: To recommend goodness and innocence hath been my sincere endeavor in this history. This life-long love for decency played into his later career as a judge, which he began in October, 1748. Together, he and his blind half-brother Sir John Fielding brought many criminals to justice and founded the Bow Street Runners, London's first police force. In 1751, he published his final novel, Amelia, which tells of a wife's trials and triumphs (Amelia is very likely based upon Charlotte, and Henry referred to the work as his 'favourite Child'). It's a quieter sort of piece, quite different from his previous rollicking narratives, so some critics hold it in lesser regard than the others; nevertheless, it has much merit.
In 1752, bad health took a toll on Henry (he essentially worked himself to death by traversing the city investigating crimes), and he left his legal career and headed for Lisbon in 1754, thinking warmer weather would be beneficial. Alas, two months after his arrival, he was carried off by a combination of jaundice and dropsy on October 8 of that year. However, he provided the world with much mirth during his life, and readers have been chuckling ever since.

P.S. - Thus far, all major screen adaptations of the novels have been deplorable, in my opinion - the 1963 film of Tom Jones sacrificed the human side of the characters for the sake of a bawdy romp, the 1997 BBC version of the same book brought the seediness to the forefront, where Henry never intended it to be, and the 1977 adaptation of Joseph Andrews (which I've avoided) is a vile travesty, containing rampant vulgarity and a Black Mass (none of this filth is in the book). It is my hope that some wise filmmakers will rectify these errors and actually read the works thoroughly before attempting adaptation.

This gif I made from the 1963 trailer (wherein Molly, played by Diane Cilento, beats Albert Finney's Tom upside the head) perfectly captures my feelings towards those filmmakers. ;) Whatever were they thinking?

An illustration by W.R.S. Stott.
My favorite scene in Tom Jones, wherein Tom and Sophia are finally reconciled, and her father enters and sees them.
He then caught her in his arms, and kissed her with an ardour he had never ventured before.
At this instant Western, who had stood some time listening, burst into the room, and, with his hunting voice and phrase, cried out, "To her, boy, to her, go to her."