The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker

Front Cover
General Books LLC, 2009 - Travelers - 258 pages
This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1846. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... at Bristol Well, is now matthewmnrphy'd into a fine young gentleman, son and hare of Squire Dollison. We are all together in the same house, and all parties have agreed to the match, and, ia a fortnite, the surrymony will be preformed. But this is not the only wedding we are to have. Mistriss is resolved to have the same frolick, in the naam of God! Last Sanday, in the parish crutch, if my own ars may be trusted, the clerk called the hanes of marridge betwixt Opaniah Lashmeheygo, and Tapitha Bramble, spinster: he monght as well have called her inkle-weaver, for she never spun and hank of yarn in her life. Young Squire Dollison and Miss Liddy made the second kipple; and there might have been a turd, but times are changed with Mr. Clinker. O Molly! what do'st think! Mr. Clinker is found to be a pye-blow of our own squire, and his rite naam is Mr. Mattew Loyd (thof God he nose how that can be!) and he is now out of livery, and wares ruffles; but I new him when he was out at elbows, and had not a rag to kiver his pistereroes; so he need not hold his head so high. He is for sartain very umble and cornpleasant, and purtests as how he has the same regard as before; but that he is no longer his own master, and cannot portend to marry without the squire's consent. He says we must wait with patience, and trust to Providence, and such nonsense. But, if so be as how his regard be the same, why stand shilly-shally? Why not strike while the iron is hot, and speak to the squire without loss of time? What subjection can the squire make to our coming together? Thof my father wa'n't a gentleman, my mother was an honest woman. I didn't come on the wrong side of the blanket, girl: my parents were married according to the rights of holy mother crutch, in the face of men and...

About the author (2009)

Smollett, the only major eighteenth-century English novelist whose work can seriously be called picaresque, came to the writing of novels with a strong sense of Scottish national pride (an alienating element in the London of the 1750s and 1760s), a Tory feeling for a lost order, horrifying experiences as a physician, and a fierce determination to make his way in the literary world. Prolific in a variety of literary forms, he was particularly successful as a popular historian, magazine editor, translator of Cervantes (see Vol. 2), and author of novels about adventurous, unscrupulous, poor young men. His work is marked by vigorous journalistic descriptions of contemporary horrors, such as shipboard amputations or the filthy curative waters of Bath; by a flair for racy narrative often built on violence and sentiment, and for comedy that often relies on practical jokes and puns; and by a great gift for creating comic caricatures. His peppery Travels through France and Italy (1766) was something of a spur to Laurence Sterne's Sentimental Journey, in which Smollett is referred to as Dr. Smelfungus, who "set out with the spleen and jaundice, and every object he passed by was discolored or distorted---He wrote an account of them, but 'twas nothing but the account of his miserable feelings." Smollett's most notable novels are Roderick Random (1748), Peregrine Pickle Pickle (1751), Ferdinand Count Fathom (1753), Sir Launcelot Greaves (1762), which set a precedent by first being serialized in his British Magazine (January 1760--December 1761), and especially The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker (1771), a relatively mellow work that follows the travels of Matthew Bramble, an excitable Welshman, from his home through chaotic England to idyllic Loch Lomond and back. Bramble himself finds what Smollett had irrecoverably lost---his health---as well as a son from his youth. Smollett died in 1771, the year of the novel's appearance, in Leghorn, Italy, and is buried in the English cemetery there.

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