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zach_collins's review against another edition
5.0
I'm running on little sleep. Things are blurring together. Funny associations are made in this state. But they are associations. They reveal something. There are limitations but that's alright. This review is flawed anyway. We read and write not because our thoughts are perfect and laser focused. We digress. We make puns. We draw attention to our shortcomings as we try to hide them behind a veneer of culture or information or style. But some of us will admit it, gleefully, dragging others to the mirror so we can all laugh at our ridiculous clothes and postures.
Comedy is one of the most natural of human attributes and yet it is also one of the most terrifyingly complex concepts ever. Everyone loves a good pun and farts are universally hysterical. However. A pun is a limitation of language, inherent confusion, uncertainty. Flatulence robs us of our nobility and reminds us we are full of crap, covers us in swampy stench. There is an anxiety hiding behind every gleeful guffaw.
This is our collective experience. Our lives. Our opinions.
Ever wonder why so many comedians OD?
Wow this got serious. Fast.
But stay with me here.
Because the best of us will laugh it off. They point to the sheer absurdity because this are our limitation. The boundaries are now visible.
Did you know kids will only spread out and explore if they sense an area of safety? Fences or adults. Or at least a sign (no trespassing). Let kids loose on a playground and they will huddle together if there is no fence, but will spread out and explore only if there is a fence. Yeah, one will attempt to pass the barrier but only at the urging of friends, support from a group.
We claim we want absolute freedom (Tea Party, teenagers, punk rockers) but absolute freedom is anarchy is Somalia.
Wait I was going somewhere with this.
Let me back up.
Tristram Shandy is a wonderful genre-bending work of loving satire published in freaking 1759. A shameless shaggy dog story, and excuse to drone about favorite stories and pet projects and esoteric facts. It is the best kind of humor. The kind that revels in the limitations of, well, everything. Language/symbol fails its one purpose ("this is not a pipe"). The scenery moves but the vehicle is stationary. Our biology will eventually break down. Stream-of-consciousness is confusing. No one wants to hear about your scale model you worked so diligently to construct unless they really love you.
This is the safe zone. Feel free to explore.
And there is so much to explore.
Laurence Sterne should have been a contemporary of the post-modernists, he gleefully sees the arbitrary and petty, and instead of getting an ulcer lets loose a hearty guffaw, grabs the clown's paint and oversized shoes and dances the horribly cheesy dance we all wish we were brave enough to emulate.
So go ahead, toe that line. Double dog dare you.
Comedy is one of the most natural of human attributes and yet it is also one of the most terrifyingly complex concepts ever. Everyone loves a good pun and farts are universally hysterical. However. A pun is a limitation of language, inherent confusion, uncertainty. Flatulence robs us of our nobility and reminds us we are full of crap, covers us in swampy stench. There is an anxiety hiding behind every gleeful guffaw.
This is our collective experience. Our lives. Our opinions.
Ever wonder why so many comedians OD?
Wow this got serious. Fast.
But stay with me here.
Because the best of us will laugh it off. They point to the sheer absurdity because this are our limitation. The boundaries are now visible.
Did you know kids will only spread out and explore if they sense an area of safety? Fences or adults. Or at least a sign (no trespassing). Let kids loose on a playground and they will huddle together if there is no fence, but will spread out and explore only if there is a fence. Yeah, one will attempt to pass the barrier but only at the urging of friends, support from a group.
We claim we want absolute freedom (Tea Party, teenagers, punk rockers) but absolute freedom is anarchy is Somalia.
Wait I was going somewhere with this.
Let me back up.
Tristram Shandy is a wonderful genre-bending work of loving satire published in freaking 1759. A shameless shaggy dog story, and excuse to drone about favorite stories and pet projects and esoteric facts. It is the best kind of humor. The kind that revels in the limitations of, well, everything. Language/symbol fails its one purpose ("this is not a pipe"). The scenery moves but the vehicle is stationary. Our biology will eventually break down. Stream-of-consciousness is confusing. No one wants to hear about your scale model you worked so diligently to construct unless they really love you.
This is the safe zone. Feel free to explore.
And there is so much to explore.
Laurence Sterne should have been a contemporary of the post-modernists, he gleefully sees the arbitrary and petty, and instead of getting an ulcer lets loose a hearty guffaw, grabs the clown's paint and oversized shoes and dances the horribly cheesy dance we all wish we were brave enough to emulate.
So go ahead, toe that line. Double dog dare you.
heyimaghost's review against another edition
4.0
This is easily the most unique novel written in the 18th century, and perhaps even in the 19th century; but uniqueness does not, of course, determine a work's importance or value. Rather than tackle the questions of "Is it important" or "Is it good," I'll let history speak for itself. The question of my opinion is more easily given, especially when compared to how difficult Tristram Shandy found it to give his opinion. If star ratings are of any value (and I'm highly doubtful that they are), I gave it four out of five. Now, the parts that captured me, captured me fully; however, there were one too many parts where I was reading simply to get through it. I won't speak to my lack of understanding, because that is no real fault of the author. I knew what I was in for when I picked up the novel, so I have no one to blame but myself for being taken aback at the unusual style of storytelling (or lack thereof).
I have not read Rabelais (next year will be different), and I've been told that to fully appreciate this novel, one must have read [b:Gargantua and Pantagruel|18266|Gargantua and Pantagruel|François Rabelais|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1336964698s/18266.jpg|2663468]. Still, I knew enough of the work to catch most of the allusions. The other allusions and references are a different story. There were so many that without the notes in the back, I would've been lost at certain points. The notes also help with some of the humor, which, as is the case with all novels of this sort, can be dated. That doesn't make it less amusing, but you have to be in on the joke sometimes. I'm fairly well-read in the works of the this era, but even then, I needed some help. All that is to say, I highly recommend a version with good notes. The Penguin Classics version was good enough for me.
So, on to the actual work. It starts off with the conception of the title character, which is a good place to start in the story of a person's life; but it immediately goes off track. This is essentially, in my opinion, the best description of Tristram Shandy, as the entire book is almost entirely a digression from the actual story. In fact, the actual story of Tristram's life is used solely as a device to bring about another digression. Of course, that's the big joke of the book. Written as a autobiography, we learn relatively nothing about Tristram, and most of what we do learn is about his birth.
I feel like this review is disjointed and makes little sense. I blame Sterne for that. The best thing I can say about the book is this: almost the entire time I was reading, I wanted to write something exactly like it.
I have not read Rabelais (next year will be different), and I've been told that to fully appreciate this novel, one must have read [b:Gargantua and Pantagruel|18266|Gargantua and Pantagruel|François Rabelais|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1336964698s/18266.jpg|2663468]. Still, I knew enough of the work to catch most of the allusions. The other allusions and references are a different story. There were so many that without the notes in the back, I would've been lost at certain points. The notes also help with some of the humor, which, as is the case with all novels of this sort, can be dated. That doesn't make it less amusing, but you have to be in on the joke sometimes. I'm fairly well-read in the works of the this era, but even then, I needed some help. All that is to say, I highly recommend a version with good notes. The Penguin Classics version was good enough for me.
So, on to the actual work. It starts off with the conception of the title character, which is a good place to start in the story of a person's life; but it immediately goes off track. This is essentially, in my opinion, the best description of Tristram Shandy, as the entire book is almost entirely a digression from the actual story. In fact, the actual story of Tristram's life is used solely as a device to bring about another digression. Of course, that's the big joke of the book. Written as a autobiography, we learn relatively nothing about Tristram, and most of what we do learn is about his birth.
I feel like this review is disjointed and makes little sense. I blame Sterne for that. The best thing I can say about the book is this: almost the entire time I was reading, I wanted to write something exactly like it.
bkoser's review against another edition
I completely get why someone would hate this (I've heard CS Lewis didn't care for it, but searched and can't find that documented anywhere. He did reference the book in Surprised by Joy and quoted it in Mere Christianity.). It took me about a hundred pages to get into it, the whole time worried that this would be another classic I didn't get.
But then we get all possible curses contained in an excommunication form (which is applied to a poor tier of knots (not a tier as in rows or ranks placed one above another, but one who ties)), the Latin scholar Slawkenbergius and his theories about nose sizes, the delightful Uncle Toby, the blank page for the reader to write in, the preface (which can be found in Vol. 2, after Chapter 12), the ******* ******** ** *********...
Rob Cantor, in an interview about his song "Shia LaBeouf" (a work of genius, please look it up on YouTube) (no really) defined bathos as "serious and absurd juxtaposed". In that case, Tristram Shandy is Bathos with a capital B (and not just because they hadn't figured out not to capitalize common nouns in the middle of sentences in 1767).
The style of the writing, with all the em dashes and other typographical symbols, illustrations, playing with the conventions of the novel, demand that you read this on paper instead of listening to the audiobook.
But then we get all possible curses contained in an excommunication form (which is applied to a poor tier of knots (not a tier as in rows or ranks placed one above another, but one who ties)), the Latin scholar Slawkenbergius and his theories about nose sizes, the delightful Uncle Toby, the blank page for the reader to write in, the preface (which can be found in Vol. 2, after Chapter 12), the ******* ******** ** *********...
Rob Cantor, in an interview about his song "Shia LaBeouf" (a work of genius, please look it up on YouTube) (no really) defined bathos as "serious and absurd juxtaposed". In that case, Tristram Shandy is Bathos with a capital B (and not just because they hadn't figured out not to capitalize common nouns in the middle of sentences in 1767).
The style of the writing, with all the em dashes and other typographical symbols, illustrations, playing with the conventions of the novel, demand that you read this on paper instead of listening to the audiobook.
colorfulleo92's review against another edition
5.0
I never knew how fun and extremely eccentric a classic could be, the humour and strangeness was barley balancing on just enough. But didn't go overboard and was definitely one of the more fun reading experience I had of a classic. Not sure if i was able to analyze it enough to actually get something important out of it but I loved it nevertheless.
jdn_in_sat's review against another edition
3.0
Somehow I liked this a lot more in my college days. This time around my mind wandered a lot every time Sterne began one of his many digressions. I'm glad to have revisited it, but probably won't return to it any time soon.
expatally's review against another edition
4.0
'Tis a silly story, but a fun one. No doubt I missed quite a few of the jokes as my mind wandered while listening, but as a previous reviewer said, this is the precursor to Monty Python. A bit racy, a bit silly, and quite witty. I highly recommend the outstanding narration by Anton Lesser.
hagbard_celine's review against another edition
3.0
I can see why Nietzsche liked this. Bizarre and razor-sharp. I was in and out, only intermittently able to be a truly attentive reader. Not smart enough to love this, but stuck with it enough to respect it.
sylviaisme's review against another edition
2.0
Va bene che [b:Vita e opinioni di Tristram Shandy|15747171|Vita e opinioni di Tristram Shandy|Laurence Sterne|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1457289372s/15747171.jpg|2280279] è stato scritto quasi 250 anni fa, va bene che è considerato un libro precursore del romanzo moderno e va anche bene che sia anche una sorta di libro sperimentale, ma più di 600 pagine di digressioni e trama pari a zero per me sono state veramente infinite.
Non nego che Sterne sappia scrivere e il suo acume e la sua ironia siano sbalorditivi, forse soprattutto se si considera quanti anni fa questo romanzo è stato scritto, ma al di là del primo centinaio di pagine, in cui ammetto di essere stata affascinata anch'io dall'ironia della narrazione, il resto del romanzo ha avuto un tono così piatto e poco coinvolgente che ha fallito totalmente nel mantenere alta la mia concentrazione. Spesso mi è sembrato di leggere sempre lo stesso capitolo ma narrato e scritto utilizzando artifici diversi.
Ci sono capitoli vuoti, altri di una frase soltanto, ci sono pagine bianche e nere, e anche alcuni "scarabocchi" (come quello sulla copertina della mia edizione), ma sul fatto che non ci sia trama bisogna essere onesti. Come si fa a fare di una tale quantità di digressioni la base portante di un romanzo? Sicuramente questo sarà uno dei meriti da riconoscere a Sterne e probabilmente sono io a non aver compreso né apprezzato a dovere questo libro, ma per quanto mi riguarda la cianceria di Tristram Shandy non è valsa ad evitarne la stroncatura.
Non nego che Sterne sappia scrivere e il suo acume e la sua ironia siano sbalorditivi, forse soprattutto se si considera quanti anni fa questo romanzo è stato scritto, ma al di là del primo centinaio di pagine, in cui ammetto di essere stata affascinata anch'io dall'ironia della narrazione, il resto del romanzo ha avuto un tono così piatto e poco coinvolgente che ha fallito totalmente nel mantenere alta la mia concentrazione. Spesso mi è sembrato di leggere sempre lo stesso capitolo ma narrato e scritto utilizzando artifici diversi.
Ci sono capitoli vuoti, altri di una frase soltanto, ci sono pagine bianche e nere, e anche alcuni "scarabocchi" (come quello sulla copertina della mia edizione), ma sul fatto che non ci sia trama bisogna essere onesti. Come si fa a fare di una tale quantità di digressioni la base portante di un romanzo? Sicuramente questo sarà uno dei meriti da riconoscere a Sterne e probabilmente sono io a non aver compreso né apprezzato a dovere questo libro, ma per quanto mi riguarda la cianceria di Tristram Shandy non è valsa ad evitarne la stroncatura.