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kadouglas19 's review for:
Don Quixote
by Miguel de Cervantes
Last night, I finished perhaps my greatest reading experience to date: the classic novel "Don Quixote" by Miguel de Cervantes, which is regarded by many as "the first modern novel." Where do I begin?
For starters, when tackling historically noteworthy novels, I have taken to skipping past the "introduction," unless it was written by the author of the work in question, until I have completed reading the novel itself. This is mostly due to the fact that many scholarly introductions are written under the assumption that the events in the novel are ubiquitous (this was probably true before the age of short attention spans, television, and the Internet); in other words, if major plot points are stones, it is often the case that few are left unturned in the introduction; in other words: spoilers! For that reason, I have decided to skip the introduction before reading this novel, but also before writing my review, so that my analysis is comprised of my own thoughts only, wherever that might lead. I will not include any spoilers, either.
The fact that it is hard to decide where to begin speaking about this classic work speaks to the brilliance of it. Its historical significance is unquestionable. It was probably the most popular novel in the Enlightenment era, even in the English speaking world, and is allegedly one of the only works that the noted bibliophile, Thomas Jefferson, read twice. Supposedly, on a trans-Atlantic voyage to France, Jefferson "learned" Spanish by reading "Don Quixote" in the original Spanish with the aid of a Spanish dictionary/grammar book. Having studied Spanish for over twenty years, I personally find it hard to accept that Jefferson truly mastered Spanish in this manner, but that is neither here nor there.
I will attempt to tackle and dissect this work, despite having no inkling of how to begin. Don Quixote is a man who undergoes perhaps the ultimate midlife crisis in all of literature. Having led a relatively ordinary life up to this point, be apparently has read one chivalry novel too many, and, piecing together some old family relics into armor, shield, sword, and lance, undertakes the existence of the "knight errant," or wandering knight, and after renaming his horse Rocinante and recruiting his simple but charmingly clever neighbor Sancho Panza to serve as his squire, sets out on an imaginative, multi-part journey to seek glory. The problem is, the practice of knight-errancy is a thing of the past in Quixote's world, if it even existed at all, at least in the capacity of the aforementioned books that Quixote has overdosed on - but don't tell him that!
As any knight-errant worth his salt must have a young lady in their life, Don Quixote designates a random girl from a nearby town, whom he once had a thing for, to be his maiden in waiting, and dubs her "Dulcinea of Toboso." All of his subsequent ventures are dedicated to God (Quixote is a devout Catholic) and to his lady, Dulcinea.
What ensues for most of the book does not go well for Don Quixote. He seems to hallucinate, or perhaps over-imagine, perfectly ordinary occurrences, make-believing them into ominous enemies that must be challenged. Everyone probably knows the tale of the windmills, for example. He charges the windmills, imagining them to be sinister giants, only to find himself unexpectedly and completely outdone by what any reader would have seen as an obvious and predictable outcome, and this goes on - not just with the windmills. Don Quixote frequently blames the nefarious intentions of "enchanters" when this happens.
At first, Don Quixote reminded me of Cartman from "South Park." Bear with me here. Don Quixote consumed too much of one particular type of media, and was overcome by madness and obsession surrounding it. He sets out on a ridiculous personal quest to fully immerse himself in this concept, with Sancho Panza in tow, who is both trying to talk sense into him one minute, and getting swept up in the nonsensical mania in the next. To me, Sancho is an embodiment of Stan, Kyle, and Kenny put together. They are skeptics, yes, but can they keep away? No.
Still doesn't sound enough like South Park? Well, don't worry, there's plenty of toilet humor, too.
I expected this reading to be a bit of a slog, but it was anything but, and for a 17th century work, I sure laughed out loud a lot. I loved Don Quixote's ability to find reason in so many circumstances and to speak eloquently regarding them. I loved Sancho's dogged loyalty, despite knowing with lucidity most of the time that Quixote was completely off his rocker. He had a good mix of simple outlooks and occasionally, the same capacity to fantasize wildly that plagued his master. I also loved the brief references to the bond that Sancho's donkey has with Quixote's horse Rocinante (they were very unassuming animals that "didn't like to be without each other" - an allegory, I think, on their two human masters). I loved the frequently mismatched proverbs that Sancho often strung together, simply rattling them off, one after the other, much to Quixotes's chagrin. Sancho also has a tendency to mix up his vocabulary, through which Cervantes spins a lot of clever wordplay. If you could read it in the original Spanish (I did not, but perhaps I'll try to someday), it would probably be even more hilarious.
Both Don Quixote and Sancho Panza have a tendency to be long-winded. Humourously, both complain about the other in this regard throughout the book. They get on each other's nerves, no doubt, but there is a strong bond and companionship between the two that proves to be unbreakable. Don Quixote sees in Sancho a good, homespun earnestness that the world could use more of, and Sancho sees in his master a certain gallantry, that, while outdated, ultimately serves the greater good, and for him, it is worth serving, enduring many inevitable (but perhaps avoidable) hardships along the way. Through their journeys, challenges are issued, or at least are perceived to be, and usually end with both Quixote and Panza having their butts kicked - but if it weren't for their exploits, certain side characters would have missed out on having their lives changed for the better. Don Quixote sets out to right wrongs, and while generally he only inadvertently manages to do so, there are some pretty significant wrongs that are righted simply because he got involved.
The tale goes on and on, but Cervantes introduces a lot of "side stories" that served to fill the pages a bit. My understanding is that this was not done without criticism, however, I found them to be enthralling, particularly "The Man Who Was Recklessly Curious," which encompassed three of the book's 176 chapters.
Being the first modern novel, a lot of literary devices seen in modern times first happened in this book. One example is an alter ego of the author being a part of the telling of the story. I am reminded of Kurt Vonnegut's "Kilgore Trout," the science fiction writer of countless stories (few of which are in print), all of which are products of Vonnegut's imagination, of course. For Cervantes, the alter ego was Cide Hamete Benengeli, a fictional Moorish historian who wrote nearly all of the history of Don Quixote. This is, I suppose, metafiction, as it were.
Don Quixote was written and published in two separate parts, in 1605 and 1615. Another interesting aspect of this work is that it makes circular references to itself, as well as to a false/bootleg part two that was released before Cervantes had put the finishing touches on the authentic part two. In part two, the first part of the history has been published not only in the real world, but within Quixote's world as well, and in their travels, Quixote and Panza meet people who know him from having read this first part. Usually, having already ascertained that Quixote and Panza are surely both mad, those who encounter our heroes decide to egg them on with elaborate pranks. Cervantes writes that regarding these pranksters, the most noteworthy being a Duke and Duchess that play a big part in the second half of the story, they go to such extremes in orchestrating these ruses that they themselves are nearly as mad as they've made Quixote and Panza out to be.
In part two, Cervantes absolutely roasts the "false Quixote" on many levels - first in the preface to the reader, which is done in a direct fashion, and later, throughout the novel itself, incorporating its existence into Quixote's world, and using Quixote himself to drag it through the mud. I found this to be quite brilliant, and although the existence of this bootleg part two clearly bothered Cervantes (and who can blame him, considering the work that must have gone into this story?), he dealt with it masterfully, with class, and I'd even say with pizzazz.
I mentioned earlier that the second part of Don Quixote was published in 1615. Sadly, Cervantes died the following year, aged 68. Interestingly, Shakespeare died on the same day.
The somewhat well-known phrase "hunger is the best sauce in all the world," said by Sancho's wife, usually referred to as Teresa, comes from this work, as well as the term "quixotic." The book is not perfect - there are some continuity issues in the plot, mistakes committed perhaps by Cervantes or by the printer, but nothing too egregious. I found that Edith Grossman's translation, which is probably the most popular modern one, does an excellent job including pertinent footnotes regarding these errors, as well as explaining wordplay that doesn't quite translate into English. For me, there were just the right amount of explanatory footnotes to enrich my reading, without their becoming cumbersome. I admire Grossman's work here, which took two years to complete!
The Los Angeles Times refers to "Don Quixote" as an "imperfect masterpiece," and I think this is a very apt description. Nabokov said, regarding (I think) the evolution of the book's significance in society, that "the parody has become the paragon." That is to say, this book is enduring, and it is a big deal.
Perhaps you only read for pleasure, or maybe you set for yourself a course of reading as somewhat of a continuing education in your adult life (this is very important to do, if you ask me, and I'll leave it at that for today). Perhaps, like me, you do both. In any case, you can do no better, in my opinion, than to get yourself a copy of "Don Quixote," perhaps starting with Grossman's modern translation, and diving into it. Make it your big summer read. Why not?
Among novels, this is, as Sancho Panza might say, the grandaddy of them all, and better late than never, and a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and there's a remedy for everything except death.
For starters, when tackling historically noteworthy novels, I have taken to skipping past the "introduction," unless it was written by the author of the work in question, until I have completed reading the novel itself. This is mostly due to the fact that many scholarly introductions are written under the assumption that the events in the novel are ubiquitous (this was probably true before the age of short attention spans, television, and the Internet); in other words, if major plot points are stones, it is often the case that few are left unturned in the introduction; in other words: spoilers! For that reason, I have decided to skip the introduction before reading this novel, but also before writing my review, so that my analysis is comprised of my own thoughts only, wherever that might lead. I will not include any spoilers, either.
The fact that it is hard to decide where to begin speaking about this classic work speaks to the brilliance of it. Its historical significance is unquestionable. It was probably the most popular novel in the Enlightenment era, even in the English speaking world, and is allegedly one of the only works that the noted bibliophile, Thomas Jefferson, read twice. Supposedly, on a trans-Atlantic voyage to France, Jefferson "learned" Spanish by reading "Don Quixote" in the original Spanish with the aid of a Spanish dictionary/grammar book. Having studied Spanish for over twenty years, I personally find it hard to accept that Jefferson truly mastered Spanish in this manner, but that is neither here nor there.
I will attempt to tackle and dissect this work, despite having no inkling of how to begin. Don Quixote is a man who undergoes perhaps the ultimate midlife crisis in all of literature. Having led a relatively ordinary life up to this point, be apparently has read one chivalry novel too many, and, piecing together some old family relics into armor, shield, sword, and lance, undertakes the existence of the "knight errant," or wandering knight, and after renaming his horse Rocinante and recruiting his simple but charmingly clever neighbor Sancho Panza to serve as his squire, sets out on an imaginative, multi-part journey to seek glory. The problem is, the practice of knight-errancy is a thing of the past in Quixote's world, if it even existed at all, at least in the capacity of the aforementioned books that Quixote has overdosed on - but don't tell him that!
As any knight-errant worth his salt must have a young lady in their life, Don Quixote designates a random girl from a nearby town, whom he once had a thing for, to be his maiden in waiting, and dubs her "Dulcinea of Toboso." All of his subsequent ventures are dedicated to God (Quixote is a devout Catholic) and to his lady, Dulcinea.
What ensues for most of the book does not go well for Don Quixote. He seems to hallucinate, or perhaps over-imagine, perfectly ordinary occurrences, make-believing them into ominous enemies that must be challenged. Everyone probably knows the tale of the windmills, for example. He charges the windmills, imagining them to be sinister giants, only to find himself unexpectedly and completely outdone by what any reader would have seen as an obvious and predictable outcome, and this goes on - not just with the windmills. Don Quixote frequently blames the nefarious intentions of "enchanters" when this happens.
At first, Don Quixote reminded me of Cartman from "South Park." Bear with me here. Don Quixote consumed too much of one particular type of media, and was overcome by madness and obsession surrounding it. He sets out on a ridiculous personal quest to fully immerse himself in this concept, with Sancho Panza in tow, who is both trying to talk sense into him one minute, and getting swept up in the nonsensical mania in the next. To me, Sancho is an embodiment of Stan, Kyle, and Kenny put together. They are skeptics, yes, but can they keep away? No.
Still doesn't sound enough like South Park? Well, don't worry, there's plenty of toilet humor, too.
I expected this reading to be a bit of a slog, but it was anything but, and for a 17th century work, I sure laughed out loud a lot. I loved Don Quixote's ability to find reason in so many circumstances and to speak eloquently regarding them. I loved Sancho's dogged loyalty, despite knowing with lucidity most of the time that Quixote was completely off his rocker. He had a good mix of simple outlooks and occasionally, the same capacity to fantasize wildly that plagued his master. I also loved the brief references to the bond that Sancho's donkey has with Quixote's horse Rocinante (they were very unassuming animals that "didn't like to be without each other" - an allegory, I think, on their two human masters). I loved the frequently mismatched proverbs that Sancho often strung together, simply rattling them off, one after the other, much to Quixotes's chagrin. Sancho also has a tendency to mix up his vocabulary, through which Cervantes spins a lot of clever wordplay. If you could read it in the original Spanish (I did not, but perhaps I'll try to someday), it would probably be even more hilarious.
Both Don Quixote and Sancho Panza have a tendency to be long-winded. Humourously, both complain about the other in this regard throughout the book. They get on each other's nerves, no doubt, but there is a strong bond and companionship between the two that proves to be unbreakable. Don Quixote sees in Sancho a good, homespun earnestness that the world could use more of, and Sancho sees in his master a certain gallantry, that, while outdated, ultimately serves the greater good, and for him, it is worth serving, enduring many inevitable (but perhaps avoidable) hardships along the way. Through their journeys, challenges are issued, or at least are perceived to be, and usually end with both Quixote and Panza having their butts kicked - but if it weren't for their exploits, certain side characters would have missed out on having their lives changed for the better. Don Quixote sets out to right wrongs, and while generally he only inadvertently manages to do so, there are some pretty significant wrongs that are righted simply because he got involved.
The tale goes on and on, but Cervantes introduces a lot of "side stories" that served to fill the pages a bit. My understanding is that this was not done without criticism, however, I found them to be enthralling, particularly "The Man Who Was Recklessly Curious," which encompassed three of the book's 176 chapters.
Being the first modern novel, a lot of literary devices seen in modern times first happened in this book. One example is an alter ego of the author being a part of the telling of the story. I am reminded of Kurt Vonnegut's "Kilgore Trout," the science fiction writer of countless stories (few of which are in print), all of which are products of Vonnegut's imagination, of course. For Cervantes, the alter ego was Cide Hamete Benengeli, a fictional Moorish historian who wrote nearly all of the history of Don Quixote. This is, I suppose, metafiction, as it were.
Don Quixote was written and published in two separate parts, in 1605 and 1615. Another interesting aspect of this work is that it makes circular references to itself, as well as to a false/bootleg part two that was released before Cervantes had put the finishing touches on the authentic part two. In part two, the first part of the history has been published not only in the real world, but within Quixote's world as well, and in their travels, Quixote and Panza meet people who know him from having read this first part. Usually, having already ascertained that Quixote and Panza are surely both mad, those who encounter our heroes decide to egg them on with elaborate pranks. Cervantes writes that regarding these pranksters, the most noteworthy being a Duke and Duchess that play a big part in the second half of the story, they go to such extremes in orchestrating these ruses that they themselves are nearly as mad as they've made Quixote and Panza out to be.
In part two, Cervantes absolutely roasts the "false Quixote" on many levels - first in the preface to the reader, which is done in a direct fashion, and later, throughout the novel itself, incorporating its existence into Quixote's world, and using Quixote himself to drag it through the mud. I found this to be quite brilliant, and although the existence of this bootleg part two clearly bothered Cervantes (and who can blame him, considering the work that must have gone into this story?), he dealt with it masterfully, with class, and I'd even say with pizzazz.
I mentioned earlier that the second part of Don Quixote was published in 1615. Sadly, Cervantes died the following year, aged 68. Interestingly, Shakespeare died on the same day.
The somewhat well-known phrase "hunger is the best sauce in all the world," said by Sancho's wife, usually referred to as Teresa, comes from this work, as well as the term "quixotic." The book is not perfect - there are some continuity issues in the plot, mistakes committed perhaps by Cervantes or by the printer, but nothing too egregious. I found that Edith Grossman's translation, which is probably the most popular modern one, does an excellent job including pertinent footnotes regarding these errors, as well as explaining wordplay that doesn't quite translate into English. For me, there were just the right amount of explanatory footnotes to enrich my reading, without their becoming cumbersome. I admire Grossman's work here, which took two years to complete!
The Los Angeles Times refers to "Don Quixote" as an "imperfect masterpiece," and I think this is a very apt description. Nabokov said, regarding (I think) the evolution of the book's significance in society, that "the parody has become the paragon." That is to say, this book is enduring, and it is a big deal.
Perhaps you only read for pleasure, or maybe you set for yourself a course of reading as somewhat of a continuing education in your adult life (this is very important to do, if you ask me, and I'll leave it at that for today). Perhaps, like me, you do both. In any case, you can do no better, in my opinion, than to get yourself a copy of "Don Quixote," perhaps starting with Grossman's modern translation, and diving into it. Make it your big summer read. Why not?
Among novels, this is, as Sancho Panza might say, the grandaddy of them all, and better late than never, and a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and there's a remedy for everything except death.