The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

Given how briefly the best authors dedicated themselves to it, realism exerts far too much influence over our reading habits. Beware, when you pick up a Smollett, for here there is no character development, no tight plot, no interest--despite what the back of the book says--in faithfully depicting society.

Humphrey Clinker is, rather, a weird mash-up of Horace and Juvenal's satires, eighteenth century travel literature, and story collections like the Canterbury Tales. It's an epistolary something or other, but 'novel' doesn't quite seem to capture it. The best analogue, though, might be: it's a really good sitcom, in which an ensemble cast goes through a series of incidents, with very little connection to each other, and the final show more episode is, well, just the end, rather than a nice conclusion.

Who are the letter writers? Bramble is a Juvenalian satirist, complaining at great length about medicine, parvenus, the city and tourism. He could also (an uneducated guess) be a model Austen's Mr Bennett, since he combines his satirical grumpiness with much 'man of feeling' generosity. Melford is a Chaucerian story-teller, whose (anachronism alert!) campness and general lack of interest in the ladies must excite all sorts of queer-theorising. Melford's sister Lydia seems to have wandered in from a very boring Richardson novel. And yet the plot, such as it is, hinges on her. Bramble's semi-illiterate, man-chasing sister Tabitha is wonderfully awful. The yet more illiterate servant Jenkins gives Smollett a chance to make endless fun ("We were yesterday three kiple chined, by the grease of God, in the holy bands of mattermoney") of both his world and the romantic plot itself.

If you come to this expecting Austen (or even Fielding), you'll be greatly disappointed. If you come to it expecting an eighteenth century version of Family Guy, you'll probably be very amused. In other words, to all the one and two star reviewers: this isn't a bad book of realism. It's an excellent work of its own kind. I blame your teachers.

"I should renounce politics the more willingly, if I could find other topics of conversation discussed with more modesty and candour; but the daemon of party seems to have usurped every department of life. Even the world of literature and taste is divided into the most virulent factions, which revile, decry and traduce the works of one another." Bramble, p 136.

"...now, all these enormities might be remedied with a very little attention to the article of police, or civil regulation; but the wise patriots of London have taken it into their heads, that all regulation is inconsistent with liberty; and that every man ought to live in his own way, without restraint-- Nay, as there is not sense enough left among them, to be discomposed by the nuisance I have mentioned, they may, for aught I case, wallow in the mire of their own pollution." Bramble, 154. show less

I have said it before and I'll say it again: I am never disappointed when I read a classic. Always there is at least historical interest to be gotten out of them, and usually a great deal more than that.

Despite a good grounding in 18th Century British fiction, I had somehow failed to explore the works of Tobias Smollett up until now, so when I spotted the Heron Books hardcover reprint of Smollett's final novel, The Expedition of Humphry Clinker, on a sale table at one of the weekend book fairs here in Queretaro, naturally I snapped it up.

Humphry Clinker draws in genial fashion on several literary traditions - the travelogue, the picaresque, and the epistolary novel.

The story follows the peregrinations of a Welsh squire, Matthew Bramble show more of Brambleton Hall, his husband-hunting sister Tabitha, his nephew and niece Jeremy and Lydia Melford, and their servants and occasional fellow-travelers, as they make their way in literally roundabout fashion through various spa towns - Bath, Harrogate, Scarborough - and prominent cities - Gloucester, London, Edinburgh, Glasgow - across the whole Island of Britain. This positions the book in the company of such non-fictional specimens as Daniel Defoe's A Tour thro' the Whole Island of Great Britain.

Smollett wrote an account of his own travels in France and Italy just a few years before Clinker, and apparently was an even more dyspeptic chronicler than his own Matt. Bramble, who may be taken as a somewhat autobiographical portrait. Bramble finds travel a great fuss and bother, but is willing to undertake it for the possibly salutary effects on his health - he suffers from gout - and the edification of his younger relations.

As an epistolary novel, Humphry Clinker is perhaps unusual for highlighting letters by men - in most novels of this kind, the women are the more enthusiastic correspondents. By my count, there are 27 letters by Bramble here; 28 by Jery Melford; and a total of 28 by four others - Tabitha, Lydia, Tabitha's scattered servant Winifred Jenkins, and Lydia's now-you-see-him-now-you-don't suitor Wilson (who gets but a single brief missive). The letters by Matt. Bramble and Jery Melford are epically longer than those by the others, which together can't take up more than 15% or so of the word-count of the novel. The novel belongs to the two men.

Matt. Bramble's letters to his friend Dr. Lewis are a combination of the philosophical and the somewhat petulant; Jery Melford's letters to his fellow Oxonian Watkin Phillips are observant, amused, and largely carry the thread of the narrative.

Matthew characterizes his nephew as a "pert jackanapes, full of college-petulance and self-conceit; proud as a German count, and as hot and hasty as a Welch mountaineer." Jery is a splendid depiction of a post-collegian male who would seem at home in any era, but oddly perhaps, he is not especially lusty. Oh, he makes the occasional admiring comment about this or that woman. But he is skeptical about the "permanence" of female charms, and to that extent resistant of them. Although Humphry Clinker is full of love and lust - all the women are hot for beaux in one way or another - it is decidedly not a tale of Jery Melford's love-life.

And what, you may wonder, of Humphry Clinker himself? He does not, surprisingly, figure very largely in the book named for him. He comes on the scene late, insinuates himself into the family's graces as a manservant for Squire Bramble, has a few misadventures, writes no letters, and makes a pretty minor character overall.

So why is this novel titled The Expedition of Humphry Clinker? It may have to do with the picaresque element, which is the weakest of the major strands here. A picaro is a rogue who lives by his wits. Humphry Clinker is lower-class and marginally roguish, with a penchant for getting into scrapes - but is also very religious. Nothing in "his" novel is related from anything close to his POV, which would ordinarily be standard in a picaresque narrative. So I am afraid he is a half-picaro at best - but apparently just enough of one to score a title. Frankly, I would have named the novel something else.

No matter ultimately, for this is a joyous book despite all of Matt. Bramble's grousing. It has high spirits for days. The late-arriving character who stands out is not actually Clinker, but the Scotsman Lieutenant Lismahago, who once spent an extended period with a Native American tribe, thereby securing a "colorful" status for all time, and who although interesting to talk to is confoundedly contradictory of whatever position one might choose to take. Matt. Bramble can't quite decide whether he likes this fellow or not, but sister Tabitha has no such qualms - he is an available male of appropriate age and social class, and she moves in for the kill.

All resolves nicely, as is appropriate for a comedy - although one must admit that the long-term prospects for a couple of the couplings do not look all that bright. show less

The Expedition of Humphry Clinker is one of the great comic novels of the 18th century, the outstanding masterpiece of Tobias Smollett (1721–71), a prolific journalist, historian, editor and translator, whose ground-breaking fictional creations helped shape the modern novel.

Written in Italy during Smollett’s last illness, and published just months before his death from overwork, Humphry Clinker gives a riotous account of the misadventures of an eccentric ‘assemblage of originals’ as they embark on a misguided sightseeing tour of England and Scotland: former libertine Matthew Bramble, now a misanthropic hypochondriac; his sister, Tabitha, a shrewish old maid on the prowl for eligible bachelors; his nephew, Jery, a high-spirited show more Oxford graduate; his love-sick teenage niece, Lydia; and their simple-minded maid, Winifred Jenkins. When they are joined en route by Captain Obadiah Lismahago, an irascible Scot who has survived scalping at the hands of American Indians, and the titular hero, Humphry Clinker, an accident-prone stable-worker with a hidden talent for preaching, the stage is set for a bizarre period version of the disastrous family holiday.

Told entirely through the gossipy letters that Smollett’s characters write along the way, The Expedition of Humphry Clinker conjures up in vivid detail the sights, sounds – and smells – of the Georgian era, blending satirical portraits of recognisable historical figures and biting social commentary with hilarious fictions. Encounters with stool-obsessed physicians and reluctant highwaymen, hen-pecked husbands and practical-joking country squires, long-lost relatives and lovers-in-disguise sit alongside surprisingly modern concerns about battery hens, artificial white bread, and the question of Scottish independence. The result is a unique blend of the scatological, the poignant, the lyrical and the laugh-out-loud, and remains as fresh and entertaining today as when it first appeared nearly 250 years ago.

Smollett’s text is perfectly matched by Derrick Harris’s dynamic woodcuts that evoke 19th-century popular prints and add a witty, modern edge. The binding features the original paper jacket design from The Folio Society 1955 edition, while the patterned slipcase reproduces the original fifties binding. This new edition also includes an informative introduction by John Sutherland celebrating Smollett’s distinctive talent, and a map that allows us to trace the route of this extraordinary fictional ‘expedition’. show less

One of those 'old friend' books that gets read each year - an episodic travel adventure that leaves me both with a smile on my face and a still-unrequited desire to tour northern England and Scotland. Told in a series of letters (an epistolary novel), we follow the 18th-century version of a summer vacation road trip, headed by with misanthropic, gouty Welsh country gentleman Matthew Bramble. The traveling party includes Bramble's desperate-to-marry sister, Tabitha; his nephew Jery, a recent college graduate and twenty-something party animal; and his niece Liddy, seventeen, fresh out of boarding school and fainting with love. Letters from these four back home, along with bonus letters from Tabitha's young maidservant, Win Jenkins, show more provide different views of the same events while the family makes its way through Bath, London, northern England and Scotland.

The Humphrey Clinker of the title is picked up early in their adventures as a manservant and serves as a catalyst throughout - Smollett's title character never pens a letter himself, but plays as prominent a role in the others' letters as he does in the plot. The letters themselves are descriptive, ribald, sarcastic, and in the cases of Tabby's and Win letters, packed with obscene malapropisms - and above all, usually hilarious. Smollett didn't put himself out developing complex plot architecture, or even a plausible ending (the unlikely coincidences rival a Shakespeare romantic comedy), but that's not what you read Humphrey Clinker for - you read it for pleasure and for laughs, which is probably what the readers of the time, emerging from Cromwell's humorless rule, were looking for. The bonus character, Smollett's beloved Scotland, is probably developed more fully and beautifully than any of the actual characters traveling through it. Enjoy! show less

This is an epistolary novel written in 1771, the year the author died. It was one of a number of 18th century novels which were travelogues with rambling plots and colourful characters in sometimes bizarre situations. For the most part, this worked for me, and much of this is very amusing, though it dragged in places. One or two of the letter writers' epistles were a bit hard to read due to their idiolect, though this often had an amusing effect. The author of each letter was only stated at the epistle's end, so at first I couldn't tell who it was until I got used to the pattern. Some of the amusement derived from the different letter writers' interpretations of the same events and places. The early part of the novel is set in Bath, show more which at this time was in the midst of its Georgian transformation into the beautiful and elegant city I love today. The principle letter writer, Matthew Bramble, is scathing about Bath: "The Circus is a pretty bauble, contrived for shew, and looks like Vespasian's amphitheatre turned outside in" and, referring to the then forthcoming Royal Crescent among other new builds, "What sort of a monster Bath will become in a few years, with these growing excrescences, may be easily conceived". His niece Lydia on the other hand considers Bath "an earthly paradise. The Squares, the Circus and the Parades, put you in mind of ...sumptuous places; and the new buildings....look like so many enchanted castles". The expedition of the title progresses east to London, then north, ending in Scotland. It is in Scotland that the author's love of the beautiful landscapes and descriptions of towns comes across as more profound and this section includes the appearance of a real life relative of Smollett. Ironically, Humphry Clinker is a very minor character who appears only about a quarter of the way in, and is an eccentric coachman and servant of Bramble, though his role eventually turns out to be more significant. The ending, after the travellers' much quicker return down south, is somewhat abrupt and involves a set of ridiculous coincidences so typical of 18th and 19th century novels. I'm glad I read this, and enjoyed it, though got bogged down in a few places especially in the first half. show less

A long epistolary novel about a journey made in the 1770s from Wales through England and Scotland and back home again. The letters are written by six family members; funny (different views of the same incidents), insightful, clever, wise…and long. Given the variety of places they visit, there is a lot of commentary on contemporary politics and manners. Once again, I read a classic and discovered why it’s a classic.

This is an epistolary novel, that is to say it is entirely in the form of letters written by the characters to their friends and acquaintances. It was published in 1771. It is also a travelogue, a satire of social behavior, a running commentary on the politics and literature of the time, and a pitch for tourism in Scotland.

I am always put off by epistolary novels, even though the only one I had read before this was Dorothy Sayers's The Documents in the Case, a brilliant tour de force told all in letters that I enjoyed hugely. Finally overcoming my aversion to the form, I read Humphry Clinker, and found it equally satisfactory. The letters in this case are written by the members of a family touring party during an expedition around show more eighteenth-century Britain. They start from their estate in Wales, four of them along with various servants, and acquire companions from time to time as they go along. They visit Bath and Bristol, London, various spas in northern England, Edinburgh, the Inner Hebrides, and thence back to Wales. The journey provides occasion for numerous picaresque adventures and matchmaking both humorous and sentimental.

The great bulk of the letters are written by the leading character, Squire Matthew Bramble, and his nephew and ward, Jery Melford, just down from Oxford. Bramble, an irascible curmudgeon and hypochondriac whose kindness belies his grumpiness, corresponds with his friend and physician in Wales; Melford, with an Oxford friend. Both are superb raconteurs, who carry the story along swimmingly in their lengthy epistles, with occasional help, mainly in a burlesque style, from the others. So the story rarely drags, and the different viewpoints provide some irony and humor.

Like any picaresque novel, Humphry Clinker is strong on incident, weak on plot. It is one event after another, like a television series, with the marital intrigues providing whatever overall structure there is. The episodes provide the journalist Smollett with ample opportunities for satire and comment on the social and literary foibles of his time. The initial sequence in Bath and Bristol was a little slow with its scathing view of the valetudinarian tourism that was a feature of the place and time. Also the segment in London was filled with political comment at a level of detail of interest only to historians. Some judicious skipping would have been in order, but I plowed through. Once the party got out of London and back on the road, it was back to the picaresque and a window on another world. Smollett was a Scot, and the lengthy visit to Scotland is the brightest segment of the story, with vivid appreciation for Scottish scenery and society, though not for the stench of sewerless Edinburgh.

So there you have it, a long, leisurely, good-humored, cozy read that I found very rewarding. I read the Oxford World Classics edition, which has an unmemorable introduction and excellent explanatory notes. (As always, leave the intro till after you've read the novel - too many spoilers. Better yet, skip the intro.) Recommended for anyone who likes long novels, light comedy, happy endings all round, and the eloquence of eighteenth-century conversation. show less