How Needs make for One-sided Conversations Fielding's Tom Jones and Sterne's Tristram Shandy

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Hobby horses are ridden by everyone. We all behave in eccentric ways at times. So when Henry Fielding and Lawrence Sterne team up to highlight human hobby-horses we all get seriously satirized. But it is all in good fun! If Squire Western and Tobias Shandy met in a parlor room the resulting conversation would be both funny and sad and might even reveal something about the human condition. The two men, actually characters from Eighteenth century novels, are caricatures of irrational single-mindedness based upon a fixation of ideas or habitual patterns of thought associations. Drawn from remarkably dissimilar works, Squire Western from Henry Fielding's Tom Jones and Tobias or `Uncle' Toby from Laurence Sterne's Tristram Shandy, the two characters exemplify how we all as individuals have peculiar patterns of thought, speech and behavior. Fielding and Sterne outrageously amplified human idiosyncrasy and created Falstaffian `originals' who, because of their oddities, prove to be the most enjoyable and perhaps the most meaningful characters of all. The essential nature of both characters is such that they live in their own little worlds of personal preoccupations. In our parlor room the introductions would scarcely have been made when one of the two men would say something like `It's a lovely day' and the other would perhaps reply `Odzookers!, the day is prime for fox hunting.' Henceforth the conversation would become completely unintelligible as each man continues to hear and speak according to his own point of view. A communication breakdown results from the excessive preoccupations of two highly eccentric personalities. According to the neoclassical literary theory characters should represent, not eccentric personalities, but common types; `The business of a poet,' says Imlac in Samuel Johnson’s Rasselas, `is to examine, not the individual, but the species'(63). Certain Eighteenth century comic novelists, however, opposed neoclassicism by creating highly individual, even grotesque, caricatures. Fielding and Sterne are numbering the streaks of the tulip of human nature in characterizing the unique foibles and follies of Squire Western and Uncle Toby, two originals whose existence is contradictory to the neoclassical theory of universally representative characters. Yet, ironically, the general and universal actually is the focus of examination for our two `poets.' Fielding and Sterne create characters who, like Rasselas, exemplify the way we all channel our thoughts according to set patterns. To a certain degree, Rasselas thinks politically, for that his way to soothe his discontent, Uncle Toby thinks militaristically, for that is his way of dealing with personal problems, and Western keeps his thoughts in the field, for that is his way of avoiding personal problems; the characters reveal, in what they think, say or do, their idiosyncratic patterns of thought through which they live their respective fictional yet representational lives. In Tom Jones Squire Western is a foil for Mr. Allworthy who, as his name implies, has the reason and temperance of a model of virtue. Despite Allworthy's maltreatment of a boy who later turns out to be his son, he treats his family, indeed everyone, with great benevolence. Allworthy's mistake in casting out Jones while befriending the perfidious Blifil is excusable as it results from a trusting disposition and an overly optimistic view of human nature which fails to pierce disguised malevolence. At the wrong end of the foil, Western ignores his daughter and is blind to the budding romance between Jones and Sophia because his thoughts are `generally either in the field, the stable, or the dog-kennel,' and, by this self-imposed ignorance, he gave Tom "every opportunity with his daughter which any lover could have wished"(139). What is worse, he then tried to make Sophia take Blifil as a lover instead of Jones. Since the sympathy of the reader will naturally lie with Sophia, the implication is that the Squire is an ogre and is wrong in letting his three-fold ruling passion of the field--fox hunting, horses and hounds-- prevent him from attending to matters of much greater importance. Sophia, Jones, even Mrs. Western, all suffer due to the Squire's single-mindedness and slavish indulgence of temperament. Fielding has the narrator denounce, with ostensible sincerity, Western's preoccupation of the field: "the wise man gratifies every appetite and every passion while the fool sacrifices all the rest to pall and satiate one"(237). Squire Western's peculiarities are so exaggerated it seems the characterization takes on a didactic or perhaps even satirical tone since he is a specimen of the "ignorant, hard-drinking Tory landowner"(Baker 123). The Squire's originality is, more importantly, funny. His human values, for example, are so grotesquely distorted that they become the subject of much humor: "Mr. Western grew every day fonder and fonder of Sophia, insomuch that his beloved dogs themselves almost gave place to her in his affections" (166). Also, after Jones heroically saves Sophia from drowning, Western declared there was nothing except her or his estate which he would not give him "but upon recollection, he afterwards excepted his fox-hounds"(223). Not only are Sophia and her savior ranked with animals, they actually seem to become animals in the eyes of the Squire when he madly pursues the young lovers on the old road to London: "as soon as Western saw Jones, he set up the same holla as is used by sportsmen when their game is in view and immediately ran up and laid hold of Jones crying, "We have got the dog fox, I warrant the bitch is not far off." (464). Western's ruling passion of the field becomes plainly absurd when, `addressing himself to his intended son-in-law [Blifil] in the hunting phrase, he cried after a loud holla, "`Follow her, boy, follow her; run in, run in, honeys. Dead, dead, dead...."' (290). Fielding created Western, however, for more than just laughs. A strange pathos overshadows the comedy in the climactic moment when a pack of hounds break out baying; "which the squire's horse and his rider both perceiving, both immediately pricked up their ears, and the squire instantly clapped spurs to the beast, who little needed it, having, indeed, the same inclination with his master"(528). Here we see the horse-sensical nature of Western in how he mimics the conditioned response of a horse trained for fox hunting. As soon as he hears the hounds, the Squire automatically forgets all about the Sophia hunt and goes off on the fox hunt. This is a comically exaggerated but tragically true reflection of typical human behavior. We all have similar, though less dramatic, psychological defense mechanisms which, depending upon our level of awareness, influence our behavior, distracting or diverting our minds from an unpleasant thought or life situation. The valuable moments for us as readers are those that isolate oddity--the foibles, hobbyhorses, idiosyncrasies of behavior of the characters-- and pathos (Allen 76). However, we know, from looking at Squire Western's family, that real-life irrational single-mindedness will usually offend or alienate others, and such is the case here with the Shandy family. Western is unable, or unwilling, which amounts to the same thing, to accept his daughter's love for Jones. Instead of confronting this problem within himself, he runs away to the safe and secure reality of fox hunting wherein he is absolute master and in control of everything--the horses, the hounds, sometimes even the fox. Each animal can be seen metaphorically as psychological symbols for things in life which the Squire wishes he could control, such as his daughter and his sister. When Western says "Pogh! D--n the slut" (528), surely we are to interpret this not as indicative of the Squire's lack of affection for his daughter but as a sign of the frustration and isolation he feels due to his inability to deal with family life. At heart the Squire is a loving man who wants to be better than he is but fails to do so. We can see how he is aware that he does not behave as he should when he laments `in very pathetic terms the unfortunate condition of men, who are, says he, "always whipped in by the humours of some "d--ned b--- or other"'(284). This awareness helps to redeem the Squire somewhat, as does his belated but sincere expression of affection for Jones which, given the man's love of dogs, is quite a compliment: `I had rather hear thy voice than the music of the best pack of dogs in England!' (720). Western appears in good cheer at the end of Tom Jones, so he is no longer the ogre he once seemed, and now appears even more fully human than the wooden Allworthy: "a man may yield to his weaknesses, but must not become a slave to vice. If he yields let him take the consequences cheerfully; and if he shows regard for his fellows, much will be forgiven."(Baker, on Fielding 136). The suggestion here is that perhaps one should look upon human foibles in a sympathetic, forgiving manner. Furthermore, one might look into their own life for their own personal preoccupations which are well nigh universal. On the surface, Squire Western is an original who is the object of ridicule and pity but, more fundamentally, his idiosyncratic obsessiveness, while it may be as harmful as it is helpful, is a common feature of the human mind. He represents the sobering truth that, as John LockeJohn Locke suggested, our minds function according to patterns of associations which are as inevitable as they are inhibiting. Ingrained patterns of thinking are what interfere with the parlor room meeting of our two heroes. If Western said he would like to catch the fox who stole his daughter he could, not surprisingly, be misunderstood by his companion who might imagine some monstrous fox at large. Western allows his ruling passions of the field to dominate his mind, denying the possibility of effective interpersonal communication. The double twist to the conversation, of course, is that the Squire is misunderstood not only because he sends bad messages, but also because there is a problem with the decoding of the messages at the receiving end, somewhere deep in the mind of Uncle Toby. To turn to Tristram Shandy is to turn from Fielding's master plot and intricate methodology to Sterne's relatively pilotless and non-linear novel writing style. Here the unifying themes are not in the story itself but in the mind of the false author Tristram Shandy. The narrative continually shifts from digression to digression, stringing ideas together in a literary demonstration of the principle of association. Instead of revealing only the peculiar associations of one character, as Fielding does with Western, Sterne shows the associative patterns of three different dimensions of consciousness: that of the character, that of the persona Tristram Shandy, and that of Sterne himself (though, critically speaking, we walk on water here). In Tristram Shandy the different voices consistently display a sense of immediacy. Thoughts and feelings flow in the form of spontaneous diction which characterizes the point of view of the speaker or speakers. The action of a Fielding novel has finished before the book opens. It is therefore a generalization after the event. But Sterne is writing in the first person, he is thinking aloud-- "writing, when properly managed," he said, "is but a different name for conversation".... (Allen 74). With text in hand, we have Sterne engaged in the literary art of `conversation,' but conversing as if he were Tristram Shandy, who, to make things very difficult, then speaks to the reader, another point of view altogether. Through manifold perspectives we read not, as the title page claims, of Tristram's own `Life and Opinions' but, more accurately, those of the Shandy household and of his uncle in particular. Tristram says "I will draw my uncle Toby's character from his Hobby-Horse"(64) and goes on to reveal his uncle's bizarre psychological make-up by describing an active sensorium wherein ideas are lost or distorted in cul-de-sacs and twisted channels. So unique is Uncle Toby in his thought patterns that he makes us laugh and cry and wonder. In short, he is interesting. As if it were necessary, Tristram describes many other instances to convince you of the absurdity of Hobby-Horses. Noteworthy is the dismantling of the sash-windows to serve the uncle's Hobby-Horsical need for military toys which tragically results in damage to Tristram's body in the most sensitive place. With a grimace, a grin, or perhaps even both, the reader might conclude that Sterne's intention in inventing the sash-window scene was to illustrate the wrongfulness of Hobby-Horses; however, it seems to be Sterne as well as Tristram who so pointedly avoids moralizing saying `A great moral might be picked handsomely out of this, but I have not time' (299). Even though one would expect Tristram to make his uncle out to be an ogre for that agonizing moment so pathetic yet, paradoxically, so comic, the reality is that Tristram is very forgiving towards his fellow man. Even when Tristram seems to out rightly denounce Hobby-Horses, the tone is very subdued: "when a man gives himself up to the government of a ruling passion, in other words, when his Hobby-Horse grows head-strong,--farewell cool reason and fair discretion" (77). The loss of reason and discretion results only in extreme cases, and even then there is only a mild `farewell' to left-brain functioning. Such soft treatment of Hobby Horses almost implies a defense for them, and perhaps there is a call to notice the way in which rationalism is at odds with emotional and psychological needs. Regardless of whether Hobby-Horses are all bad or not, they exist because they are necessary. In the above quote it is significant that the phrase `gives himself up' is used when we are told implicitly by the narrator how Uncle Toby does not simply surrender his citadel of reason-- which to be sure it is well fortified with all sorts of defense mechanisms-- for no purpose at all but needs, like Rasselas, to give himself up to a ruling passion; it is not surprising the poor man has a Hobby-Horse considering how he suffers from his pathetic injury; "twice did my uncle Toby forget his wound, and cry out, Le Fevre, I will go with thee, and thou shalt fight beside me!--and twice he laid his hand upon his groin, and hung down his head in sorrow and disconsolation"(341). Although Uncle Toby's wound is highly singular in nature it represents any and all sorts of physical/psychological handicaps. It is not the handicap itself so much as the behavior that results which is archetypical. Sterne's characters, like those of only the greatest writers, have the enduring quality of figures in myth: more is suggested by them than they actually state; they express ways of behavior, inclinations of temperament that are permanent from generation to generation (Allen 73). The exact nature of Toby's handicap becomes apparent when he is asked by Widow Wadman where he got injured and he responds with a geographical, not the expected anatomical, answer (508). Sexual impotency is, on a personal level, not a laughing matter, though it is hilarious and pathetic in fiction, and is common and important enough to be a universal symbol for all kinds of emotional or psychological frustrations. In fact, if everyone has a Hobby-Horse, as seems to the case, the relationship between each person and his or her Hobby-Horse probably does have a sexual dimension. As Tristram implies, "there is something in it more of the manner of electrified bodies; - and that, by means of the heated parts of the rider, which come immediately into contact with the Hobby-Horse,-by long journeys, and much friction, it so happens that the body of the rider is at length filled as full as Hobby-Horsical matter as it can hold" (65). Despite the perverse undertones of Hobby-Horses there is a higher side. The sexual and psychological repression and inhibition associated with Hobby-Horses might make us all a bit like ogres, but without Hobby Horses we could not be fully human. Like Rasselas, Western and Uncle Toby, we are all handicapped with unmet needs which, if it were not for the psychological defense mechanisms called Hobby Horses, could cripple both the individual and society at large, for, indeed, there are social as well as individual Hobby-Horses (professional sports?). Besides, "so long as a man rides his Hobby-Horse peaceably and quietly along the King's highway, and neither compels you nor me to get up behind him,-pray, sir, what have either you or I to do with it?"(15). Bibliography Allen, Walter. The English Novel. New York: E.P. Dutton. 1954. Baker, Earnest A. The History of the Novel. Vol. 4. New York. 1954. Fielding, Henry. Tom Jones. New York: Signet. 1963. Johnson, Samuel. Rasselas. New York: Penguin. 1985. Sterne, Laurence. Tristram Shandy. New York: Doubleday & Co.