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414 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1909

Don't imagine that I am coming presently to any sort of solution of my difficulties. Here among my drawings and hammerings NOW, I still question unanswering problems. All my life has been at bottom, SEEKING, disbelieving always, dissatisfied always with the thing seen and the thing believed, seeking something in toil, in force, in danger, something whose name and nature I do not clearly understand, something beautiful, worshipful, enduring, mine profoundly and fundamentally, and the utter redemption of myself; I don't know—all I can tell is that it is something I have ever failed to find.I will continue to read more of Wells's sci-fi novels, but I think I will also check out Kipps and The History of Mr. Polly.

...I began to live for the effect I imagined I made upon her, to make that very soon the principal value in my life. I played to her. I did things for the look of them. I began to dream more and more of beautiful situations and fine poses and groupings with her and for her. ...It certainly robbed my work of high patience and quality. I cut down the toil of research in my eagerness and her eagerness for fine flourishes in the air, flights that would tell. ....And it robbed me, too, of any fine perception of absurdity. ...
She walked across to the piano, took a pile of music from the cabinet near, surveyed Lady Osprey's back, and with a gesture to me dropped it all deliberately on to the floor.
"Must talk," she said, kneeling close to me as I helped her to pick it up. "Turn my pages. At the piano."
"I can't read music."
"Turn my pages."
Presently we were at the piano, and Beatrice was playing with noisy inaccuracy. ...
"At the back of the house is a garden - a door in the wall - on the lane. Understand?"
I turned over the pages without any effect on her playing. ....
..."I can't play tonight," she said, standing up and meeting my eyes. "I wanted to give you a parting voluntary."
"Was that Wagner, Beatrice?" asked Lady Osprey, looking up from her cards. "It sounded very confused."
In the view of one of Wells's biographers, David C. Smith, Kipps, The History of Mr Polly and Tono-Bungay together make it possible for Wells "to claim a permanent place in English fiction, close to Dickens because of the extraordinary humanity of some of his characters, but also because of his ability to invoke a place, a class, a social scene. These novels are very personal as well, treating aspects of Wells's own life, matters which would come under attack later, but only after he added his sexual and extramarital views to the personal side of his work. (Wikipedia)
Undeterred by a churlish citation by Cedric Watts in 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die, (2006 edition) I was soon entranced by what was apparently Wells' favourite of his books.
Wells himself was "disposed to regard Tono-Bungay as the finest and most finished novel upon the accepted lines" that he had "written or was ever likely to write" (David C. Smith, H. G. Wells: Desperately Mortal: A Biography (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1986), p. 203, cited at Wikipedia).
As Paul Torday notes in his Introduction:
Tono-Bungay is a thoroughly absorbing portrait of that vanished age between the end of the Victorian world and the First World War — an age whose literature and writers and poets have undeservedly fallen out of fashion for some years. Wells writes about a modern world that we can all recognise; but he also describes an England that has all but altogether disappeared. He is torn between the static world of his childhood in the countryside; and the fascination of the hectic urban society that was developing as he grew up. (p. x)
When I scrolled through Wikipedia's Years in Literature 1901-1910, (though of course I haven't read everything listed) what struck me was that H G Wells was almost uniquely interested in British class and whether it was possible to transcend it, and also — somewhat like Zola in France— in how the advent of a consumer society subverted old values both benign and not. Tono-Bungay purports to be the autobiography of George Ponderevo, the son of a housekeeper and an absent father who is never spoken of. It is a bildungsroman which chronicles the loss of his childhood innocence in the countryside, and the chance events that led to him becoming complicit in his uncle's fraudulent marketing of 'Tono-Bungay', a tonic which purports to cure almost everything and which makes them both rich. It is the transition from the lower ranks of the English class system into the uncertain status of wealth from 'trade' that interests Wells, but he also explores how the economy works. (Wells was briefly a Fabian, but mocks them in this novel for failing to work actively for radical change).
The novel begins with his childhood in a microcosm of English society, the village of Bladesover, where he describes the subtle gradations of class. At the top is the impoverished Lady Drew and her house guests, down through the Vicarage people and then to people neither 'quality nor subjects'. i.e. the schoolmaster, the doctor, the vet and 'artists'. Below them comes the tenantry, domestic staff headed by the housekeeper and butler, shopkeepers and gamekeepers and the blacksmith. The guiding principle is that everyone knows their place, which means that George's childhood fantasy of marrying Lady Drew's relative Beatrice is impossible. He could better himself by joining the navy, but he could never be an officer.
Misjudgement leads to his banishment. He gets into fisticuffs with a playmate who is one of his 'betters' but they do not obey the 'code of honour' and dob him in. He is despatched in disgrace to be apprenticed to his Uncle Edward, a pharmacist and a relation hitherto unknown to him. As Torday points out in the Introduction, Victorian novels often feature fraudsters, but what makes Uncle Edward different is that he doesn't fit the Victorian caricature: he is neither dull nor a bully. He is more like Mr Micawber in personality...