Tristram Shandy (Wordsworth Classics)

“Oh that!” exclaimed a friend of mine on seeing it lying upon my table. “…Tried reading, couldn’t see what the heck it was all about.” We’re so used to thinking of novels as windows through which we peer, screens upon which a series of events is acted out for our delectation and comfort. Laurence Sterne’s TRISTRAM SHANDY is not a ‘page turner.’ True, there’s no plot, it’s a sit com, a sit com published in 1759 but the situation and comedy take place in 1713. There’s a cast of characters engaged in their – if somewhat eccentric – daily lives, centered upon Shandy Hall, the home of WALTER SHANDY. There’s Walter himself, irascible though somewhat distant, his long-suffering wife who ‘parrots’ everything he says. There’s a number of servants, and always dropping by are Dr Slop and the local parson Yorik. A ‘short march’ away is the house of Walter’s brother, the Lillibullero-whistling, humming, harumphing, and clay pipe-smoking TOBY. Toby’s house has a sizeable garden and bowling green attached which is fortunate as he spends his entire time reenacting sieges from the Nine Years War through scale models built by his faithful servant, retired corporal TRIM. Toby’s next-door neighbour is a widow, MRS WADMAN who has amorous designs upon the emotionally-retarded Toby, and indulges in pranks consisting of creeping up on him while he’s sitting in his sentry box, and interfering with his pipe. Yes, his pipe. The book contains some sexual innuendo; long noses, magic sticks, and ink horns. There are references to military sieges and siege equipment. Sterne has a preoccupation with obstetrics ‘the womb of speculation,’ – ‘470 pounds avoir dupois’ being the bearing down force on a child entering the world. There are lists which even Dickens would marvel at – and almost certainly did. Sterne even lists the chapters which the reader is about to read; a chapter on the right and wrong end of a woman, a chapter on noses, one on military terms, a chapter on buttonholes, a beguiling and quite possibly trans-genderish chapter on whiskers, a chapter on Things, ‘not to mention a chapter on chapters.’ There’re all sorts of wordplay going on, for instance, we are told that Walter Shandy’s father made his money in importing turkeys, and the word turkey frequently crops up, so does Turkey, so does even the Dardanelles. Sterne chooses words predominantly because he likes the sound of them and the - often surreal - image they conjour; ‘Laplanders sleeping it off’, or the deliciously descriptive 'sewing on the shreds of yellow binding which the teeth of time had unraveled.' There's the learned interlude concerning the long-nosed Slokenbergius who just happens to be translating something from the Latin into Cherokee. For me, far from being what may be to some annoying digressions, they give a sense of Chaucerian, Cervantes or Boccaccio-like detail. Sterne is having fu...

I'm a college student and chose this book to read for a British Lit project. I was not expecting much and the book seemed to start off slow, but it takes a little while to get used to Sterne's writing style. Some parts of the book are hard to get through (like a long, seemingly pointless chapter about a tour of France) but you will be rewarded with the many funny scenes and dead-on observations on life. And I love Sterne's "visual aids." Uncle Toby, Trim, and Walter are, to me, unforgettable characters. An odd novel, but surprisingly funny.

I just finished this book and I miss it already, its incredibly captivating characters and slow flowing narrative. Sometimes the language was difficult for me to follow, but then I was rewarded with good humor. My advice- don't rush, savor it, such books are rare. So sorry it's not finished.

Got the book for a class...the gist of the book was explained and I was satisfied

Considered a classic by many, this book reminded me of a language style that may be almost obsolete in these modern, text-filled days. The story line added to this conviction by using references that demanded knowledge of both English and history. Cobwebs were swept from various corners of my mind and I felt a sense of near revival at its conclusion. Did I mention that I teach in a middle school and have felt a gradual "dumbing-down" of our curricula ?