The Adventures of Roderick Random

I picked up this book in relation to research I was doing for a class and although I don't usually care for fiction I was completely sucked in and devoured it whole in no time. It's a literary delicatessen full of slices of life from the period. What makes this book so interesting is Roderick's naivety as a young Scottish man in his early 20s trying to make his way with little or no help in a hostile and socially brutal London, which makes it easy to identify with him these centuries later. And Random as a character can be just as hostile and brutal himself, as he admits. The book is full of real people and adult situations, including Random's own period of recuperation from an unnamed venereal disease, sharing a garrett with a woman with the same problem. Another fascinating and appalling aspect is Random's involvement in transporting captured slaves for sale in Jamaica, whom he and everyone else regards with no more respect than a cargo of chickens or goats. I have very little respect for "historical novels" written today that pretend to recreate the past. This book, on the other hand, is the real thing.

In a letter to Alexander Carlyle just before RODERICK RANDOM was to be published, Smollett wrote that the novel "is intended as a Satire of Mankind." Stringing together a seemingly endless stream of incidents as they befall his main character as he makes his way in the world, the book depicts life as sometimes innocent but often cruel. Through the use of farce, mistaken identity, clownish behavior, and tomfoolery Smollett employs all the tricks of the picaresque trade to relate his story. Random is left penniless in Scotland by his father, and he and a chum Strap leave for London. Along the way all kinds of adventures, good and bad, await them. Later Random makes his way to South America aboard a British warship (the earliest novel with a shipboard setting, and one that is autobiographical) where by coincidence he meets his now rich father (disguised as the trader Don Roderigo), who sets up Random with an inheritance and a means to marry. Though scenes in the book can be cruel, the humor throughout is broad and sharp. Whether getting cheated in cards by a con artist or sliding into bed with a beautiful maiden under a false identity, Random seems to experience just about all the vagaries life has to offer.

This book is a great deal of fun to read. It is lively, witty and amusing, as well as strikingly modern in displaying the vicissitudes of fortune in the character Roderick. These vagaries of fortune, from penury, to wealth, from imprisonment, to landed gent are also reflected in the vagaries in the moods virtues (or lack thereof) in our title character, thus lending Roderick, for most of the book, a three-dimensional aspect and not simply another cardboard cutout for an 18th century picaresque.-But the book does have its faults, particularly as we draw to what we foresee will be the inevitable end. It's just too pat for many modern readers to swallow. Or at least it is for this one. The Oxford edition's notes, while helpful in places, especially with nautical turns of phrase, and for those with a scholarly interest in the location of certain streets in the London in Smollet's day etc tend to become rather annoying at times, almost to the point of insulting the well-read reader's intelligence. Many times I found myself saying, "As if I could not have figured that out on my own from the context!" The book, not surprisingly, is at its best when it is at its most autobiographical and descriptive, particularly the passages of Roderick's first sea voyage. One of my favourite passages that illustrates the lively vitality and humour of both the character and the work comes when Roderick, feared to be dying of typhoid fever, is visited by a priest to make a last confession:""Without doubt, you have been guilty of numberless transgressions, to which youth is subject, as swearing, drunkenness, whoredom, and adultery; tell me therefore, without reserve, the particulars of each, especially the last, that I may be acquainted with the true state of your conscience...."Roderick, a thoroughgoing, Scottish Ant-Papist will have none of it and soon recovers.I am reminded of Joseph Conrad's short story "Youth" which I recommend to all who enjoy this book. - But, in the end, Conrad's story is the philosophically deeper and more true-to-life narrative than this one.-Again, the ending, for this reader, was just too pat and soppy. I am not trying to be a "spoiler" here and ruin the reading of the book and imperiling this review, by telling you potential readers what it is. You don't need me for that. You will have figured it out about a hundred pages before the end. And, for the record, I believe that this misguided idea of not being able to include the reviewer's analysis of a book's ending seriously handicaps the reviewer as well as insults the reader's intelligence. ---But, I have to abide by the rules in order that this review be posted. So be it.Anyway, a delightful 18th century romp, until the predictable winding down.

If you ever saw Sheridan's play "The Rivals," you might have heard this book mentioned. It's the book the daughter doesn't want her mother to know she is reading. It pre-dates Jane Eyre, but it has that poor-lonely-orphan-wronged-by-the-world quality to it. Picture Jane Eyre as a young, red-headed Scotsman with a thin-skin, bad temper and active libido. Roderick's going to London reminded me of D'Artagnan arrival in Paris in "The Three Musketeers". His mere presence is often a cause of confict. There are insults, fights, brawls, battles, sea clashes, duels, and some more insults. Roderick is the world's punching bag and his own pride and scheming won't let him say, "I've had enough." All the while his hot blood is leading him into haylofts, bedrooms and yet more trouble.Will this 18th-century punk ever wise up? Read for yourself. I suggest the Oxford World's Classics version. I didn't expect the footnotes, but they were a great boon. The language is archaic in places, so keep a dictionary handy.