Some years ago, Robert Duvall starred in a movie called "The Apostle" about a famous television preacher who loses everything largely because of his own temper, sense of entitlement, and various other sins, and yet finds a way to start over. I found this remarkable - here was a current story about a man of faith who sins dreadfully, yet genuinely believes in his God and is not, in the end, a hypocrite. The title character of this novel, Dr. Charles Primrose, is the same.
At the beginning he has a very comfortable living and a tidy sum of money invested, a loving wife and six children, and of course the attention and respect of his congregation. He's a bit of a know-it-all, close to vanity regarding his learning, his published pamphlets, and particularly his unbending opposition to remarriage for widowers. We would probably say that he's a bit too quick to lecture his wife and children on various topics, for their own improvement of course, but they don't seem to mind.
Well, three guesses what happens. Yep, Dr. Primrose's London agent scampers off with all his money, and since he has been generously providing his spiritual services for free, he now has to move himself and his family to a paying church, albeit one that will not keep them in their previous style. Because he and his know little of the world and its ways, they don't always recognize wickedness when they see it. People cheat and lie to them, take advantage of Dr. Primrose's good nature, his daughters' ambition and his wife's dreams for all the children.
As I said, however, he genuinely believes and is not a hypocrite. As misfortune piles upon misfortune, although he loses his temper once in a while, he accepts the lot with all the grace he can muster and even does his best to improve the character of those around him when he can. This he usually does, of course, by lecturing, which isn't always a good idea, but it's better than moping around and feeling sorry for yourself. In any case, in his new poverty he continues to live by the principles of better days - that just as we are thankful for God's blessings, we ought also to be grateful for the difficulties He sends our way for our correction and improvement.
Interestingly, Dr. Primrose gets into a few conversations about the role of wealth in his society and the best form of government depending upon whether one is rich or poor. He - that is to say, Oliver Goldsmith - obviously gave this a great deal of thought and concluded that monarchy is to be preserved at all costs because it prevents the wealthy from bringing all its power to bear at once on the poor in their orbit, and preserves the middle class by seeing to it that money is available to allow for a class of people between rich and poor. Interesting theory; I wonder what Goldsmith would have said about pre-Revolutionary France and how well that monarchy protected the poor from the rich, not to speak of how the various quasi-monarchical tyrannies of the 20th Century did that job.
All that is by the way, as they used to say. Most amusing to me is the conclusion, in which I promise you that 100% of EVERYTHING comes out right, including
*SPOILER ALERT!*
someone coming back from the dead. This is so outrageous that our narrator himself has to comment on it, reminding us that the number of chance meetings necessary for us to grow wheat and eat bread is similarly astounding.
In short, I had a whale of a time with this book. The only thing I'm not quite sure of is how we are to take it, as a sentimental adventure or an affectionate satire.
When it was written, a good deal (though by no means all) of literature naturally showed the clergy in the best possible light, virtuous, trustworthy and stout-hearted. There were always authors who wrote about clergy who had the opposite characteristics, of course, (a guy named Geoffrey Chaucer is a good example, for openers} but back then the clergy were among society's leaders and often written about as such. Dr. Primrose appears as a sincerely good man, whatever else he is.
On the other hand, so many of the things that happen here are so unlikely, not to say ridiculous, that it's hard to suppose Goldsmith intended anyone to take them seriously. I read that when he was at school, he often got in trouble for practical joking. Later in life he would write pretty nearly anything to keep body and soul together, and still had to appeal to friends like Dr. Samuel Johnson for loans.
On balance, he strikes me as the sort of roguish man who lived by his wits, so although the satirical interpretation of this novel may very well be colored by the modern attitude towards clergy, it's also perfectly possible that Goldsmith meant "The Vicar Of Wakefield" to be chuckled over. Either way, he seems like the sort of man I would have liked, and I'm only sorry he didn't write any more novels. Rats.
Benshlomo says, There are people from whom you'll always want more – try to appreciate what you've got.
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