English literature, books by English writers. "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy

At the beginning of the story, the narrator warns the reader that in his notes he will not adhere to any rules for creating a literary work, will not comply with the laws of the genre, and will not adhere to chronology.

Tristram Shandy was born on the fifth of November 1718, but his misadventures, according to his own statement, began exactly nine months ago, at the time of conception, since his mother, aware of his father’s extraordinary punctuality, at the most inopportune moment inquired if he had forgotten to wind up the clock. The hero bitterly regrets that he was born “on our mangy and ill-fated earth,” and not on the Moon or, say, on Venus. Trisgram talks in detail about his family, claiming that all Shandys are eccentric. He devotes many pages to his uncle Toby, a tireless warrior whose oddities began with a wound in the groin he received during the siege of Namur. This gentleman could not recover from his wound for four years. He got hold of a map of Namur and, without getting out of bed, played out all the vicissitudes of the fatal battle for him. His servant Trim, a former corporal, suggested that the owner go to the village, where he owned several acres of land, and build all the fortifications on the site, in the presence of which his uncle’s hobby would receive greater opportunities.

Shandy describes the story of his birth, referring to his mother's marriage contract, according to the terms of which the child must be born in the village, on the Shandyhall estate, and not in London, where experienced doctors could provide assistance to the woman in labor. This played a big role in Tristram's life and, in particular, affected the shape of his nose. Just in case, the father of the unborn child invites the village doctor Elephant to his wife. While the birth is taking place, three men - Shandy's father William, Uncle Toby and the doctor sit downstairs by the fireplace and talk about a variety of topics. Leaving the gentlemen to talk, the narrator again goes on to describe the eccentricities of his family members. His father held extraordinary and eccentric views on dozens of things. For example, I experienced a predilection for some Christian names with a complete rejection of others. The name Tristram was especially hateful to him. Concerned about the upcoming birth of his offspring, the respectable gentleman carefully studied the literature on obstetrics and became convinced that with the usual method of birth, the child’s cerebellum suffers, and it is in it, in his opinion, that “the main sensorium or the main apartment of the soul” is located. Thus, he sees the best solution in a caesarean section, citing the example of Julius Caesar, Scipio Africanus and other prominent figures. His wife, however, had a different opinion.

Dr. Slop sent his servant Obadiah for medical instruments, but he, fearing to lose them on the way, tied the bag so tightly that when they were needed and the bag was finally untied, in the confusion the obstetric forceps were placed on Uncle Toby's hand, and his brother rejoiced, that the first experiment was not made on the head of his child.

Taking a break from describing his difficult birth, Shandy returns to Uncle Toby and the fortifications erected together with Corporal Trim in the village. While walking with his girlfriend and showing her these wonderful structures, Trim stumbled and, pulling Brigitte along with him, fell with all his weight onto the drawbridge, which immediately fell into pieces. All day long the uncle ponders the design of the new bridge. And when Trim came into the room and said that Dr. Sleep was busy in the kitchen making a bridge, Uncle Toby imagined that they were talking about a destroyed military installation. Imagine the grief of William Shandy when it turned out that this was a “bridge” for the nose of a newborn, whose doctor had flattened it into a cake with his instruments. In this regard, Shandy reflects on the size of noses, since the dogma of the superiority of long noses over short ones has been ingrained in their family for three generations. Father Shandy reads classic authors who mention noses. Here is the story translated by him Slokenbergia. It tells how a stranger once arrived in Strasbourg on a mule and amazed everyone with the size of his nose. The townspeople argue about what it is made of and try to touch it. The stranger reports that he visited Cape Nosov and got hold of one of the most outstanding specimens ever obtained by man. When the turmoil that arose in the city ended and everyone went to bed, Queen Mab took the stranger’s nose and divided it among all the inhabitants of Strasbourg, as a result of which Alsace became the possession of France.

The Shandy family, fearing that the newborn will give his soul to God, rushes to baptize him. His father chooses the name Trismegistus for him. But the maid, carrying the child to the priest, forgets such a difficult word, and the child is mistakenly named Tristram. The father is in indescribable grief: as you know, this name was especially hateful to him. Together with his brother and priest, he goes to a certain Didius, an authority in the field of church law, to consult whether it is possible to change the situation. The clergy argue among themselves, but in the end they come to the conclusion that this is impossible.

The hero receives a letter about the death of his older brother Bobby. He reflects on how various historical figures experienced the death of their children. When Marcus Tullius Cicero lost his daughter, he mourned her bitterly, but, plunging into the world of philosophy, he found that there were so many beautiful things to say about death that it gave him joy. Father Shandy was also inclined towards philosophy and eloquence and consoled himself with this.

Priest Yorick, a family friend who has long served in the area, visits Father Shandy, who complains that Tristram is having difficulty performing religious rituals. They discuss the question of the foundations of the relationship between father and son, by which the father acquires the right and power over him, and the problem of the further education of Tristram. Uncle Toby recommends young Lefebvre as a tutor and tells his story. One evening Uncle Toby was sitting at dinner when suddenly the owner of the village inn entered the room. He asked for a glass or two of wine for a poor gentleman, Lieutenant Lefebvre, who had fallen ill a few days ago. With Lefebvre there was a son of eleven or twelve years old. Uncle Toby decided to visit the gentleman and found out that he served with him in the same regiment. When Lefebvre died, Toby's uncle buried him with military honors and took custody of the boy. He sent him to the public school, and then, when young Aefevre asked permission to try his luck in the war with the Turks, he handed him his father's sword and parted with him as his own son. But the young man began to be haunted by misfortunes, he lost both his health and his service - everything except his sword, and returned to Uncle Toby. This happened just when Tristram was looking for a mentor.

The narrator returns to Uncle Toby again and tells how his uncle, who had been afraid of women all his life - partly because of his injury - fell in love with the widow Mrs. Wodman.

Tristram Shandy sets off on a journey to the continent, and on the way from Dover to Calais he is tormented by seasickness. Describing the sights of Calais, he calls the city “the key of two kingdoms.” Further his path follows through Boulogne and Montreuil. And if nothing in Boulogne attracts the traveler’s attention, then the only attraction of Montreuil is the daughter of the innkeeper. Finally, Shandy arrives in Paris and on the portico of the Louvre reads the inscription: “There is no such people in the world, no people have a city equal to this.” Reflecting on where people travel faster - in France or in England, he cannot resist telling an anecdote about how the abbess of Anduite and the young novice Margaret traveled to the waters, having lost a mule driver along the way.

After traveling through several cities, Shandy ends up in Lyon, where he plans to inspect the mechanism of the tower clock and visit the Great Jesuit Library to familiarize himself with the thirty-volume history of China, while admitting that he understands nothing either about clock mechanisms or the Chinese language. His attention is also drawn to the tomb of two lovers separated by cruel parents. Amandus is captured by the Turks and taken to the court of the Moroccan emperor, where the princess falls in love with him and torments him for twenty years in prison for his love for Amanda. Amanda, at this time, barefoot and with her hair down, wanders through the mountains, looking for Amandus. But one night, chance brings them at the same time to the gates of Lyon. They throw themselves into each other's arms and fall dead from joy. When Shandy, moved by the lovers' story, gets to the site of their tomb in order to water it with tears, it turns out that it no longer exists.

Shandy, wanting to record the last vicissitudes of his voyage in his travel notes, reaches into his jacket pocket for them and discovers that they have been stolen. Loudly calling out to everyone around him, he compares himself with Sancho Panza, who cried out on the occasion of the loss of his donkey’s harness. Finally, the torn notes are found on the head of the carriage maker's wife in the form of curl-papers.

Driving through Aangedok, Shandy discovers the lively informality of the locals. The dancing peasants invite him to their company. “Having danced through Narbonne, Carcassonne and Castelnaudarne,” he takes up his pen to again move on to the love affairs of Uncle Toby. What follows is a detailed description of the techniques with which the widow Wodman finally wins his heart. Shandy's father, who had a reputation as an expert on women, writes an instructive letter to his brother about the nature of the female sex, and Corporal Trim, in the same connection, tells the owner about his brother's affair with the widow of a Jewish sausage maker. The novel ends with a lively conversation about Obadiah's servant's bull, and Shandy's mother asking, "What story are they telling?" Yorick replies: “About the White Bull, and one of the best I’ve ever heard.”

ISBN: 5-9762-5094-7, 978-5-9762-5094-9, 5-17-036391-5, 978-5-17-036391-9, 5-9713-2134-x, 978-5- 9713-2134-7

Sterne's masterpiece is undoubtedly Tristram Shandy (Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman). At first glance, the novel appears to be a chaotic jumble of amusing and dramatic scenes, skillfully outlined characters, various satirical attacks and bright, witty statements interspersed with numerous typographical tricks (pointing fingers in the margins, a blackened (“mourning”) page, an abundance of meaningful italics). The story constantly goes off to the side, interspersed with funny and sometimes risky stories, which are generously provided by the author’s wide reading. Digressions constitute the brightest sign of the “Shandian” style, which declares itself free from traditions and order. Critics (primarily S. Johnson) sharply condemned Stern's arbitrariness as a writer. In fact, the plan of the work was thought out and drawn up much more carefully than it seemed to contemporaries and later Victorian critics. “Writing books, when done skillfully,” said Stern, “is tantamount to a conversation,” and in telling the “story,” he followed the logic of a lively, meaningful “conversation” with the reader. He found a suitable psychological justification in the teachings of J. Locke on the association of ideas. In addition to the rationally comprehended connection of ideas and concepts, Locke noted, there are their irrational connections (such are superstitions). Stern divided large periods of time into fragments, which he then rearranged in accordance with the state of mind of his characters, which makes his work “regressive, but also progressive at the same time.” The hero of the novel, Tristram, is not at all the central character, since up to the third In the volume, he remains in an embryonic state, then, during early childhood, appears on the pages from time to time, and the final part of the book is devoted to the courtship of his uncle Toby Shandy for the widow Wodman, which generally took place several years before the birth of Tristram. The “opinions” mentioned in the title of the novel are mostly those of Walter Shandy, Tristram’s father, and Uncle Toby. Loving brothers, they at the same time do not understand each other, since Walter constantly goes into vague theorizing, trumping ancient authorities, and Toby, not inclined towards philosophy, thinks only about military campaigns. Contemporary readers united Stern with Rabelais and Cervantes, to whom he openly followed, and later it turned out that he was a harbinger of such writers as J. Joyce, Virginia Woolf and W. Faulkner, with their “stream of consciousness” method.

"The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy"

This novel, seemingly playful, goofy, deliberately buffoonish, is truly a kind of literary clowning, but it is permeated with the deepest philosophy. The writer frolics, clowns around, laughs at everyone and everything. At the very beginning of the book he declares his dislike of “rigor.” He does not want to constrain himself with the dogmatic importance of theoretical rules, “be they the rules of Horace himself,” he likes Voltaire’s clever and sly playfulness. No wonder he turns to his muse: “Bright goddess, if you are not too busy with the affairs of Candide and Miss Cunegonde 1, also take Tristram Shandy under your protection.” He dedicates his essay... to the moon, to which, according to an old humorous legend, the souls of all madmen living on earth end up after death.

By “rigor” Stern means inflated pedantry, ponderous thinking of ignorant and weak-minded people, suspicious of a joke, of the play of a living mind, unable to understand and appreciate the sincerity and beauty of the soul of people, careless and inexperienced (like Yorick). These “strict” (in Stern’s understanding) people, “correct” from the point of view of official morality, are cold, selfish and cruel. They are insidious. “The very essence of severity is an afterthought and, therefore, a deception; it is an old trick by which people try to give the impression that they have more intelligence and knowledge than they actually have.”

The very form of Stern’s book is the antipode of “correctness”, “rigor” - carefree and cheerful, it reinforces this philosophy of his. He populates his book with eccentrics, they engage in absurdities, but they are not “dangerous,” they are simple-minded and sweet even in their weaknesses, while the world of “severity,” that big world of seriousness that extends beyond the small world of Shandy Hall, is scary and dangerous.

The world of Shandy Hall is a toy world. The people living in it are captivated by toys, with a serious look they deal with trifles, worry, get carried away with all the spontaneity and passion inherent in children. But this does not bring any harm, whereas... there, outside the boundaries of this tiny estate , crimes are committed and great disasters occur.

The echoes of the seething and rumbling ocean in which humanity lives sometimes reach the quiet island of Shandy Hall. Uncle Tom's servant, Corporal Trim, reads, for example, a randomly found manuscript of Pastor Yorick's sermon. It is the cruel reality of the real non-toy world that bursts into the fabulous toy world of Shandy Hall.

“...Come with me for a moment into the prisons of the Inquisition... Look at this Religion with Mercy and Justice chained at her feet - she sits, terrible as a ghost, in a black judge's chair, propped up with racks and instruments of torture. - Listen - do you hear this plaintive moan? (Here Trim's face turned ashen-gray.) Look at the poor sufferer who makes this noise (here tears rolled from his eyes) - he was only brought in to be subjected to the torment of this false trial and the most refined tortures that the intended system of cruelty was able to invent "

Shortly before Stern’s novel appeared in print, Voltaire’s famous story “Candide” appeared in France. Stern read it with pleasure. Voltaire, having told in his story about the misadventures of his heroes, about their initial illusions, about the fact that everything in the world is very bad, led his wanderers to the shores of the Propontis. The naive, simple-minded Candide, his teacher - the “much-wise” and now noseless Pangloss, the once young beauty Cunegonde found late peace here. They lost their illusions, they saw the unsightly face of the world and, not hoping to correct it, began to “cultivate their garden.”

The ancient Greeks called the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus Strait Propontis (propontis is the entrance to the sea, “pre-morium”). After Voltaire, the propontis began to be called a quiet haven, a shelter from the storms of life.

In Stern's novel, Shandy Hall is also a kind of propontis. “A friendly house... with a small plot of land. There was a half-acre vegetable garden adjoining the house, and there was a lawn behind a high hedge of yew trees.”

Who lives in this Stern Propontis? Retired Captain Toby Shandy, crippled in the war, his servant Corporal Grim, also seriously wounded in the same war and often suffering severely from pain. Tristram's father, Shandy Sr., once a merchant, and now a philosophizing landowner, lives there, Tristram's mother, a timid, colorless woman, always agrees with her husband on everything, which often irritates him. There also lives that little creature whose life and opinions should be described in a book, i.e. Tristram Shandy. Pastor Yorick sometimes visits Shandy Hall, and the ignorant doctor Slopes also appears there. Next door to Shandy Hall lives a widow who sighs for the retired captain, Uncle Toby.

The main characters of the book are Uncle Toby and his servant Corporal Trim. Both are united by truly brotherly friendship. Trim adores his owner. Toby constantly admires the high moral qualities of his servant and former ally. The author's admiring attention was attracted to them. Both of them left the world of terrible realities, crippled by it, to this small country of Shandy Hall, where, kindly, pure in soul, they indulged in the game.

Captain Toby and Trim enthusiastically build toy military fortifications, according to all the rules of fortification, and wage toy battles to capture fortresses and cities, repeating in the game what happened in the real world on the battlefields of the then ongoing War of the Spanish Succession. (The novel takes place in the early decades of the 18th century, about fifty years before the novel was written.) Stern calls Uncle Toby’s hobby “a hobby,” laughing good-naturedly and admiring it. “May peace and tranquility overshadow your head forever! “You didn’t envy anyone’s joys; you didn’t offend anyone’s opinions.” You did not tarnish anyone's reputation - and you did not take a piece of bread from anyone. Quietly, accompanied by the faithful Trim, you trotted around the small circle of your pleasures, without pushing anyone along the way; “You had a tear for every person in grief; for every needy person there was a shilling.” In this small country of Shandy Hall, small events occur that are perceived by its inhabitants with great excitement, as events of great importance.

Uncle Toby is attacked by the Widow Wodman. Stern, with charming comedy, talks about the widow's subtle tricks to capture the heart of the old warrior. He talks with comic punctuality about the worries and worries of Uncle Toby, Trim and other inhabitants of Shandy Hall about the crimson pants in which the captain decided to appear to the widow with a marriage proposal. The crimson trousers were eventually rejected due to their extreme wear and tear. How magnificent are the pages devoted to the description of the solemn entrance of Uncle Toby with his servant to the mentioned widow, Uncle Toby’s timidity and shyness, the indecisiveness of the old bachelor and his utter confusion!

Stern constantly conducts polemics with that serious, strict world, which is so alien to the open, sincere world of jokes and sweet impracticality. “Strict”, “reasonable” people - “big wigs”, “important faces”, “long beards”, “important people with all their importance” - they are all insignificant and pathetic. “Just note, I’m not writing for them,” the author disavows them and directs his tender gaze at the sweet eccentrics of Shandy Hall.

“Noble souls! God bless you and your mortars!” Tristram’s father also left the world of realities, shielding himself from him with philosophy, but this philosophy, too, is not real, but a toy. Shandy Sr. creates complex, absurd philosophical systems, but no more absurd than those with which people occupy their minds and their time in the “serious” world. Shandy builds a whole chain of causes and consequences associated with people's names, their noses, etc. He wants to raise his son according to the strict method of pedagogical theory, but he cannot keep up with the growing boy.

As for Tristram himself, he also has his own strong point. He is writing a book about himself. By the end of the book, the hero is not yet five years old. But where the baby ends and the adult uncle-author begins is difficult to discern. The thoughts of one are interrupted by the thoughts of the other, and vice versa. Tristram the author constantly bores us with his book and appears before us not at all at his best; we notice that the child, in his naivety and impracticality, is worthy of his parents, that he is rather stupid, rather simple-minded, but also just as kind a creature as those around him his people.

There is a lot of funny, a lot of amusing in the book - everywhere we feel the breath of good-natured, condescending humanity. The word “humanism” probably won’t fit here, but if it does fit, then it’s a non-militant humanism, without a punishing sword, capable of shedding a tear rather than resorting to action.

The author seems to distance himself, not considering himself the right to change anything in this world, where everything great and small is equally called upon to live. Uncle Toby catches a fly that bothers him. He does not kill her, but brings her to the window and releases her. “Go with God, poor thing, why should I offend you? The light is great, there is plenty of room in it for both you and me.”

Having told about this, Tristram, and after him the author himself, concludes: “I was ten years old when this happened... I owe half of my love for humanity to this random impression.”

So, playful seriousness, unpretentious ridicule (“something sideboard-like,” “flashes of fun”), but not satire. Satire is always evil. There is a lot of bile in it. Stern's laugh is soft. In satire, objects hated by the author are ridiculed, while Stern laughs at the closest creatures. And over yourself first of all. He never mentioned Swift in his book (Swift’s harsh and merciless satire was alien to him) and very often recalls Cervantes (“My dear Rabelais and even more dear Cervantes”). The Spanish writer’s unpretentious, gentle, sad laughter at the disorder of human society and human imperfections is close and dear to him. He found the same sad wisdom in Montaigne.

The book is full of digressions, sometimes deliberate lengthiness or unjustified truncations. It is full of unexpected and incomprehensible transitions from one subject of conversation to another. The author continually interrupts his story and at the most inopportune moment, when you are carried away by the plot, enters into a conversation with you about the most extraneous and uninteresting things for you. You internally grumble: “Have mercy, author, first tell me how your story ends.” “Later, later,” he assures you, “in chapter number... you will find a continuation.” But you will not find either the indicated chapter or the continuation of the story. The writer laughs:

A! Dear reader, you are accustomed to a monosyllabic and straightforward narrative, to consistency and logic, to completeness and roundness, but I won’t give you any of this, because I am an enemy of traditional ideas about anything. If you please, accept me as I am, but no, forgive me and don’t remember me unkindly.

Frankly, Stern's manner is sometimes annoying, too conspicuous, too emphasized and deliberate. His second book, “A Sentimental Journey,” suffers less from this shortcoming and is therefore more readable. In Russia it was translated and published much more often. The book was published in 1768 in two volumes entitled “A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy.” The book remained unfinished. Travels in Italy never appeared. The author died without completing his work.

The travel genre, as we have already said, was fashionable. The discovery of new lands, already quite intensive world trade, the conquest of colonies and, finally, educational trips of noble young people, usually made to Italy, the birthplace of the arts - all this determined the emergence of the travel genre and its flourishing. However, Stern’s “Journey...” was of a special kind, as indicated by the word “sentimental.”

Travelers are different from each other, the author warns his reader. There are idle, inquisitive, vain travelers, he is also Stern (or Pastor Yorick, as the writer called himself, again using the name of Shakespeare's jester) - a sensitive traveler, i.e. seeker of feelings. It is not new countries, outlandish customs and oddities of distant lands that interest him, but feelings, in other words, the manifestation in people of generosity, philanthropy, and knightly self-denial. He notices these feelings everywhere. There is no need to look for them somewhere in a special, emergency situation. An attentive observer can notice their manifestation in the little things of everyday life, in a subtle gesture.

Here Pastor Yorick was surrounded by beggars. There were many of them in France in those days. Yorick told them that he only had 8 sous and could only give one sou to each. There are more beggars. And one of them, “a poor ragamuffin without a shirt,” retreated, refusing his share. Isn't this a manifestation of knightly self-denial? The “ragamuffin without a shirt” thought about those who are poorer than him.

The second beggar, the “poor dwarf,” treats his comrades to tobacco. Stern - Yorick put two sous in his snuffbox and took a pinch of tobacco from it. He observes what reaction the beggar will have. “The poor fellow felt the weight of the second favor more than the first,” I did him the honor of, “the first was only a favor.” The feeling of respect is valued higher than material gain. But this is a starving poor man.

Stern devotes several pages to a description of a donkey loaded with belongings, which one day blocked his path on a narrow passage. And he sees this poor animal through the prism of feelings, imbued with endless sympathy for its gentleness and inexhaustible patience, “the resigned attitude towards suffering, innocently reflected in his gaze and in his entire figure.”

The writer is endlessly admired by his servant La Fleur, a poor fellow who has not a penny to his name and no hopes for future prosperity, but whom nature has generously endowed with inexhaustible love of life and kindness. A favorite of women, cheerful, all as if composed of songs and joy, he is a welcome guest everywhere and goes through life, picking up its flowers, without thinking about tomorrow.

Stern is an opponent of conventions and prejudices brought into life by the sophistication of civilizers. He admires the words of a certain lady who answered the question, what does she need? - “Shilling.” He talks about feelings without a shadow of condemnation. personal desires of his Yorick, appreciating in them the healthy call of nature. The writer does not idealize a person and shows how good motives fight in him with selfishness, egoism, self-interest, pride and vanity.

So, when Pastor Yorick was overwhelmed by the desire to travel with an unfamiliar lady, doubts and fear gripped him. Stinginess, Prudence, Cowardice, Prudence, Hypocrisy, Baseness spoke. Each of these unpleasant persons said their word, and Pastor Yorick abandoned his intention. The world of feelings that Stern glorifies is of particular importance in his philosophy of life. This is also a kind of Propontis.

Nature and the human world are imperfect. They constantly present heartbreaking pictures. Where to go from them, where to hide from the suffering and sorrows of the world? Only into the world of feelings. “Love and be comforted!” - Stern seems to be saying to his reader. “...If I were in the desert, I would certainly find something there that could awaken friendly feelings in me.

If nothing better could be found, I would concentrate them in a fragrant myrtle or find a melancholy cypress to attach myself to - I would lure their shadow from them and thank them in a friendly way for shelter and protection - I would carve my name on them and swear that they are the most beautiful trees in the whole desert; when their leaves withered, I would learn to grieve and when they revived, I would rejoice with them.”

In essence, Stern, for all his love of life, is very tragic. All his heroes move away from the struggle, from terrible realities into some quiet corner of small joys they have invented. Heinrich Heine was the first to point out this tragedy of the writer, calling him “the darling of the pale goddess of tragedy.” “... Stern’s heart and lips fell into a strange contradiction: when his heart is tragically excited and he wants to express his deepest, bleeding, sincere feelings, from his lips, to his own amazement, the funniest - funny words fly out.” “Poor young poet’s heart!” - Heine exclaimed, speaking about Stern, it “bleeded”, it “understood all the suffering of this world and was filled with endless compassion.” The German poet, speaking about the English author, did not suspect that he was writing about himself.

Sensitivity and mockery in Stern's work. In literature, it seems, lyricism and ridicule had never merged before Stern. Lyricism enchants, evokes sadness, brings tears or inspires you, gives birth to wild joy, delight, a bright dream in you.

Other feelings come from ridicule. She throws you off Olympus, where your imagination took you, she lowers the world in your eyes, destroys intoxicating illusions, dispels bright dreams, dries up those very “sweet tears” that Homer’s heroes enjoyed (“When noble Pelid enjoyed his tears...” - “The Iliad” "). Stern was the first to conflate sensitivity and ridicule. He understood that this was almost blasphemy in relation to ancient aesthetic ideas (“I am frivolously writing a harmless, stupid, cheerful Shandian book,” “a book renounced in the sense of the genre”). And at the same time, he defended the rights of jokes to seriousness (“Everything in the world can be turned into a joke, and everything has a deep meaning”).

Jocularity is a character trait, it is a gift from heaven. Jocularity cannot be learned; it is not given to everyone, like poetic or any talent in general. “Jocularity (although she is a good girl) will not come when called, even if we lay down the kingdom at her feet.”

Stern’s lyricism is dressed in playful clothes and acquires a special charm: “The teenager’s sister, who stole her voice from heaven, began to sing,” “He won’t die, damn it,” exclaimed Uncle Toby. The spirit-accuser, who flew with this curse to the heavenly office, blushed as he handed it over, and the angel-recorder, having written it down, dropped a tear on it and washed it away forever.”

Uncle Toby's "swearing" and the "tear" of the angel-recorder seem to symbolize the literary symbiosis of lyricism and ridicule, which Stern realized in his books.

Stern's aesthetic program. Since Stern's books are unusual and original to the highest degree, his aesthetic views acquire special interest for us. The first creative principle that guided the writer when he took up the pen was complete independence from literary canons and authorities. From the very beginning, he established himself in the idea of ​​​​creating “something new, far from the beaten path.” He was not afraid of the difficulties of recognition. They are inevitable on the path of an innovator, but “each author defends himself in his own way.” He called his books “rhapsodic”, based on the original meaning of the word (“rhapsode”, in the ancient Greek interpretation, “stitcher of songs”). Perhaps the technique itself came from Montaigne, who, when writing his Essays, was guided by his imagination. She led him through the labyrinths of thought to the main goal. Stern in his books “intertwined and mixed up the progressive movements,” “hooked one wheel onto another,” “shuffled the main theme and incidental parts of the work,” etc.

With this form of writing, the author’s thought seems to fall on paper without undergoing any processing. It is as if the entire process of thinking is being recorded, with deviations to the side, with returns back, with leaps. In Chapter XV of the sixth volume of Tristram, Sterne even graphically shows his style of writing, drawing a bizarre, winding line, while mocking the screaming critics who reacted negatively to this manner.

“...It is not impossible,” with the kind permission of the devils of his Benevento Eminence, “that I will become so alert that I will move like this, that is, along such a straight line that only I was able to draw with the help of the penmanship teacher’s ruler... without turning any right or left.

This straight line is the path that Christians should walk, say theologians.”

Montaigne, watching one day in his castle as a hired artist painted the walls, freely following the flight of his imagination, creating a bizarre pattern of grotesque figures, thought about whether this manner could be applied in verbal creativity, which he later did, becoming the founder of the essay genre. He did it perfectly, completely naturally and effortlessly. We find ourselves, as it were, in the world of the intellect of a great man.

Shakespeare established “portrait” literature in English literature. Truth of character became the main goal of writers. Those of them who, after Shakespeare, experienced the influence of classicism, began to depict character, highlighting in it some dominant feature, some dominant. Ben Jonson called it "humor." Stern began calling it “the skate.” Each person, in his opinion, has some kind of passion, hobby, his own horse, which he mounts and rides to the country of his dreams.

The writer would like to look into the soul of a person, “to see the human soul in complete nakedness,” to trace all its secret plans, its quirks (and these first of all), “to watch how it frolics and jumps in freedom,” and then take pen and put everything on paper. There is a sublime way to paint characters, the writer argues, such as, for example, Virgil (Dido and Aeneas). This method is “deceptive, like the breath of glory.” Others use "discharges". (Stern’s verbal clowning, like any clowning, is somewhat rude.) “Portraits are created in a camera obscura, portraits against the light. It is necessary to start a portrait of a person with his “horse.”

It is interesting to observe a writer when he contemplates people and life, when he first imprints in his memory the manifestations of human characters, which he then writes on the pages of his writings, how he develops in himself “the ability to quickly translate into clear words various views and body movements with all shades. “Personally, as a result of a long habit, I do this so mechanically that, walking along the streets of London, I spend the whole time translating this way; more than once it happened, after standing for a while near a circle where not three words were said, I took away with me a dozen different dialogues, which I could write down exactly, swearing that I had not composed anything in them. Character is often manifested in little things, in those features that are unique to them - gestures, words.” Therefore, as he believed, it is necessary to observe people outside of an official setting, because in an official setting they are least like themselves and most like all people in general, when even representatives of different nations look the same.”

“It seems to me that I am able to discern clear distinguishing marks of national characters in such absurd steps rather than in the most important affairs of state, when great men of all nationalities speak and behave so much alike that I would not give ninepence to choose between them.” "

For Stern, there is no trifle in the world. Everything is significant in the end - the rampage of the elements, the flight of a moth, space and a grain of sand. He mockingly conveys his philosophy to the reader with deliberate attention to detail. Hence the appeal to detail when depicting characters. The philosophical principle becomes a creative principle. K.N. rightly wrote. Atarov, that “for the first time in the history of the European novel, Stern develops a scale that would allow him to show close-up facial expressions, gestures, intonation, posture, and not even the pose itself, but the transition from one pose to another” 1 .

In a word, the writer does not want and does not expect passive reading from the reader, that serene and easy following of smoothly developing events that the traditional narrative offered the reader, and sometimes asked him difficult riddles. Not everyone passed the test, and these days not everyone dares to follow the author to the last sentence of his book.

Stern compared his narrative to a leisurely journey made for the sake of the journey itself, when there is nowhere to rush, when the traveler stops here and there, deviates to the side, because everything around is so interesting and wonderful, because the world, with all its imperfections, and the people who inhabit it, beautiful. After all, if a person “has even a spark of soul, he cannot avoid turning aside fifty times, following this or that company that turns up along the way; tempting views will attract his gaze, and he will not either. able to resist the temptation to admire them.”

The so-called Gothic novel, characterized by an abundance of mysterious scenes, to which Radcliffe eventually gave a rationalistic explanation.
Page 12. The epigraph contains a quote from the collection of poems “The Scottish Muse” (1809) by Hector MacNeil (1764-1818) - a Scottish poet, author of several collections of poetry.
Thule. - This is what the ancient Greeks and Romans called the northernmost lands known to them in the Atlantic Ocean.
Page 16. Nantz - alcoholic drink. Its name comes from the French city of Nantes, where it was originally produced.
Page 19. Merk - a measure of land in the Shetland Islands, ranging from 1 to 2 acres, depending on the income it brings. The variable value of the merk is explained by the fact that originally this word denoted a unit of flax tax that Shetland farmers paid to their feudal lords.
Yur - 1/8 measure.
Page 20. Edmondston, Arthur (1776? - 1841) - physician, author of the book “A View of the Position of the Shetland Islands, Past and Present” (1809).
Page 21. Texman - a large tenant in Scotland, who, in turn, leased land to small farmers.
Page 22. Skat is a land tax that Shetlanders paid to the state.
Wattle was an annual tax levied on the population.
Khokhen - payment for cutting down trees and bushes.
Hegalef is a tax for the use of land.
Page 23. Ranslar is an official in Shetland and Orkney with police powers.
Page 24. Skalds - Old Scandinavian poets and singers (IX-XIII centuries).
Berserkers are brave warriors depicted in the monuments of Old Norse literature.
Saint Olaf - Norwegian king (reign: 1015-1028); considered the patron saint of Norway.
Page 27. “The terrible craft of sickle gatherers” - slightly modified words of Edgar Gloucester from Shakespeare’s tragedy “King Lear” (Act IV, Sc. 6), which he pronounces while standing on the edge of a precipice and looking at the sickle gatherers crawling on the rocks.
Page 28. Leviathan is a huge sea monster mentioned in the Bible.
Page 29. Gew - a Scottish bowed fiddle-type instrument with two horsehair strings.
Page 30. Iul - the most solemn holiday of the Goths and ancient Scandinavians, which began on the day of the winter equinox; was dedicated to the sun god Frey, whose symbol was the wheel (hjol).
Page 31. Oh, call them tender, not pale! - words from the second part of the poem by the English romantic Samuel Coleridge (1772-1834) “Christabel” (1816).
Page 34. She walks in all her glory... - the first poem from Byron’s cycle of poems “Jewish Melodies” (1814-1815).
Page 37. The epigraph contains a quote from “The Double Wedding,” a comedy written around 1620 by English playwrights John Fletcher (1579-1625) and Philip Messinger (1583-1640).
Page 38. Black Brunswickers. - In 1809, Duke Friedrich Wilhelm of Brunswick (1771-1815) created a corps to fight Napoleon. The combat uniforms of the Brunswickers were black. In 1815, the Brunswick corps, together with the British, stubbornly fought against the troops of Napoleonic Marshal Ney in the Battle of Quatre Bras.
Page 42. The Grampian Mountains are a mountain range in the county of Perth in Scotland.
Norval is a shepherd, one of the main characters in the tragedy of the English writer John Home (1722-1808) “Douglas” (1756). In the 18th century, this tragedy enjoyed exceptional popularity; its author was called the Scottish Shakespeare.
Page 43. Yeoman - average and wealthy peasant in England XIV-XVIII centuries.
Page 44. Covenant - supporter of the independent Presbyterian Church in Scotland.
Bethel calf - according to the Bible, a golden calf, which King Jeroboam forced the inhabitants of Bethel, the capital of the kingdom of Israel, to worship.
Presbyterianism and the Episcopal Church. - After the Reformation, the so-called Anglican or Episcopal Church established itself in England, headed by the English king instead of the pope, but which also retained bishops. On the contrary, in Scotland the Presbyterian Church established itself, which rejected bishops and recognized elected elders (priests) who stood at the head of communities. History of England in the 17th century. replete with disagreements and clashes between both churches.
Page 45. Triptolemus is the Latinized form of the name of the mythological hero of the ancient Greeks Triptolemus, the favorite of the goddess of agriculture Demeter, who introduced agriculture to Attica.
...as in the famous case of Tristram Shandy... - In Laurence Sterne's novel "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman" it is said that the hero's father, a great lover of antiquity and a man who believes in the influence of people's names on their destinies, decided call him Trismegistus (that is, three times greatest, as the ancient Greeks called the god Hermes). The maid, who conveyed the will of the child's father to the priest, remembered only the first syllable "tris", to which the priest replied that only one name could begin this way - Tristram (long-suffering). Mrs. Shandy, who found out what name her son was given, began to become hysterical, but it was too late to change the child’s name.
Page 47. Virgil (70-19 BC) - the greatest Roman poet of the “Augustan Age”. His poem "Bucolics" is dedicated to shepherd life; the poem "Georgics" is a poetic agricultural treatise and glorifies the pleasures of rural life; Virgil's most famous work, the poem "Aeneid", depicts the wanderings and exploits of the mythical ancestor of the Romans, Aeneas.
...the loose field shakes... - a not entirely accurate quote from Virgil’s poem “Aeneid” (canto VIII).
Cato the Elder (234-149 BC) - Roman statesman and writer, distinguished by strict moral principles. The only work of Cato that has come down to us, “On Agriculture,” is a collection of instructions on agriculture, animal husbandry, etc.
Palladius (IV century) is the last of the Roman authors known to us who wrote about agriculture. His work “On Agriculture” consists of 14 books and is a detailed guide to agricultural work.
Terence Varro (116-28 BC) - Roman statesman and writer, author of works of a wide variety of nature, including the dialogue “On Agriculture”.
Columella (1st century) - Roman writer, author of the book “On Agriculture,” written in prose and partly in poetry.
Tasser, Thomas (1524-1580) - author of poetic and prose works about agriculture, including the book “One Hundred Advice to the Good Tiller,” mentioned below by W. Scott. This book was reprinted many times in the 16th-17th centuries. In 1810 it was republished by W. Scott himself. Already since the 17th century. in England they began to jokingly contrast Tasser's practical advice with his everyday and economic failures.
Hartlieb, Samuel (d. 1670) - friend of Milton, publicist, author of a number of works on education and agriculture.
"The Shepherd of Salisbury Valley" is a work by the English writer Hannah More (1745-1833). The hero of this book had to be a shepherd for a year.
Philomaths (Greek) - lovers of science.
Page 48. ...about the battle of Pharsalus... Emathian fields... - In 48 BC. near the city of Pharsala in the Thessalian region (Greece), a battle took place between the troops of Julius Caesar and Pompey, as a result of which the period of Caesar’s dictatorship began. Emathia is the ancient name of a flat area in Macedonia. The Emathian fields are mentioned by Virgil in the 1st song of his poem "Georgics".
"The Vision of Peter the Plowman" is an allegorical poem by the medieval English poet William Langland (1332-1400), the hero of which, Peter the Plowman, talks about the misfortunes of the peasants under the yoke of the feudal lords. This work has nothing in common with the agricultural treatises cited by Triptolemus.
Page 49. Quid facial laetes segetes. - These words open Virgil's poem "Georgics".
Democritus (460-370 BC) - ancient Greek materialist philosopher, founder of atomic theory; in his works he also sought to reveal the meaning of human life. Already in ancient times he received the nickname Laughing Philosopher; the origin of this nickname is unclear.
Page 50. Seneca, Lucius Annaeus (c. 4 BC - 65 AD) - Roman writer and philosopher, one of the most prominent representatives of Stoicism, which taught that the meaning of life lies in humility, in contentment with little.
Page

"Laurence Stern. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman. Sentimental Journey: Fiction; Moscow; 1968
Original: Laurence Sterne, “Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman”
Translation: Adrian Antonovich Frankovsky
annotation
Sterne's masterpiece is undoubtedly Tristram Shandy (Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman). At first glance, the novel appears to be a chaotic jumble of amusing and dramatic scenes, skillfully outlined characters, various satirical attacks and bright, witty statements interspersed with numerous typographical tricks (pointing fingers in the margins, a blackened (“mourning”) page, an abundance of meaningful italics). The story constantly goes off to the side, interspersed with funny and sometimes risky stories, which are generously provided by the author’s wide reading. Digressions constitute the brightest sign of the “Shandian” style, which declares itself free from traditions and order. Critics (primarily S. Johnson) sharply condemned Stern's arbitrariness as a writer. In fact, the plan of the work was thought out and drawn up much more carefully than it seemed to contemporaries and later Victorian critics. “Writing books, when done skillfully,” said Stern, “is tantamount to a conversation,” and in telling the “story,” he followed the logic of a lively, meaningful “conversation” with the reader. He found a suitable psychological justification in the teachings of J. Locke on the association of ideas. In addition to the rationally comprehended connection of ideas and concepts, Locke noted, there are their irrational connections (such are superstitions). Stern divided large periods of time into fragments, which he then rearranged in accordance with the state of mind of his characters, which makes his work “regressive, but also progressive at the same time.”
The hero of the novel, Tristram, is not at all the central character, since up until the third volume he remains in an embryonic state, then, during early childhood, he appears on the pages from time to time, and the final part of the book is devoted to the courtship of his uncle Toby Shandy for the widow Wodman, in general which took place several years before the birth of Tristram. The “opinions” mentioned in the title of the novel are mostly those of Walter Shandy, Tristram’s father, and Uncle Toby. Loving brothers, they at the same time do not understand each other, since Walter constantly goes into vague theorizing, trumping ancient authorities, and Toby, who is not inclined to philosophy, thinks only about military campaigns.
Contemporary readers associated Sterne with Rabelais and Cervantes, whom he openly followed, and it later became clear that he was a harbinger of writers such as Joyce, Virginia Woolf and W. Faulkner with their stream-of-consciousness method.
Volume one
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The Honorable Mr Pitt
Sir,
Never has a poor writer placed less hope in his initiation than I do; for it is written in a remote corner of our kingdom, in a solitary house under a thatched roof, where I live in constant efforts to protect myself with cheerfulness from the ailments caused by ill health and other evils of life, firmly convinced that every time we smile, especially when we laugh - our smile and laughter add something to our short life.
I humbly ask you, sir, to do this book the honor of taking it (not under your protection, it will stand up for itself, but) with you to the village, and if I ever happen to hear that there it made you smile, or It will be possible to assume that in a difficult moment she has entertained you, I will consider myself as happy as the minister, or perhaps even happier than all the ministers (with one exception) of which I have ever read or heard.
I remain, great man
and (more to your credit)
a kind person,
your well wisher and
most respectfully
compatriot
AUTHOR
Chapter I
I would like my father or mother, or even both of them together - after all, this responsibility lay equally on both of them - to reflect on what they were doing at the time when they conceived me. If they had properly considered how much depends on what they were then occupied with - and that it is not only a matter of producing an intelligent being, but that, in all likelihood, his happy physique and temperament, perhaps his the talents and the very turn of his mind - and even, who knows, the fate of his entire family - are determined by their own nature and well-being - - if they, having properly weighed and thought about all this, acted accordingly - - then, I am firmly convinced, I would occupy a completely different position in the world than the one in which the reader is likely to see me. Really, good people, this is not such an unimportant thing as many of you think; I suppose you have all heard about vital spirits, how they are passed on from father to son, etc., etc. - and much more on this subject. So, take my word for it, nine-tenths of the smart things and stupid things that are done by man, nine-tenths of his successes and failures in this world depend on the movements and activities of the said spirits, on the various paths and directions along which you send them, so, when they are set in motion - rightly or wrongly, it makes no difference - they rush forward in confusion, like mad, and, following the same path again and again, quickly turn it into a beaten path, level and smooth, like a garden alley , with which, when they get used to it, the devil himself is sometimes unable to bring them down.
“Listen, dear,” said my mother, “did you remember to wind your watch?” - Lord God! - the father exclaimed in his hearts, trying at the same time to muffle his voice, - has it ever happened since the creation of the world that a woman interrupted a man with such a stupid question? - What, tell me, did your father mean? - - Nothing.
Chapter II
- - But I positively do not see anything either good or bad in this matter. - - But let me tell you, sir, that he was, at the very least, extremely inappropriate, - because he scattered and scattered the vital spirits, whose duty it was to accompany the HOMUNCULUS, walking hand in hand with him, in order to deliver him safely to the place appointed for him. reception.
The homunculus, sir, no matter how pathetic and ridiculous a light it may appear in our frivolous age to the eyes of stupidity and prejudice, - in the eyes of reason, with a scientific approach to the matter, it is recognized as a being protected by the rights that belong to it. - - The insignificant philosophers, who, by the way, have the broadest minds (so that their soul is inversely proportional to their interests), irrefutably prove to us that the homunculus was created by the same hand, - obeys the same laws of nature, - is endowed with the same properties and ability to move, like us; - - that, like us, it consists of skin, hair, fat, meat, veins, arteries, ligaments, nerves, cartilage, bones, bone and brain marrow, glands, genitals, blood, phlegm, bile and joints; - - - is a being as active - and in every respect exactly as our neighbor as the English Lord Chancellor. You can provide him with services, you can offend him, you can give him satisfaction; in a word, he has all the claims and rights which Tullius, Pufendorf, and the best moral writers recognize as deriving from human dignity and the relations between men.
What, sir, if some misfortune befalls him, alone, on the road? - - or if, from fear of misfortune, natural in such a young traveler, my boy reaches his destination in the most pitiful form, - - having completely exhausted his muscular and masculine strength, - bringing his own vital spirits into an indescribable excitement, - and if in such will he lie in a deplorable state of nervous disorder for nine long, long months in a row, being in the grip of sudden fears or gloomy dreams and pictures of fantasy? It’s scary to think what rich soil all this would have served for thousands of weaknesses, physical and mental, from which no art of a doctor or philosopher could then finally cure him.
Chapter III
I am indebted for the above anecdote to my uncle, Mr. Toby Shandy, to whom my father, an excellent natural philosopher, very keen on subtle discussions about the most insignificant subjects, often complained bitterly about the damage caused to me; one time in particular, as Uncle Toby well remembered, when my father noticed the strange clubfoot (his own words) of my manner of throwing a top; Having explained the principles by which I did this, the old man shook his head and the young man, who expressed more chagrin than reproach, said that his heart had sensed all this for a long time and that both the present and a thousand other observations firmly convinced him that that I will never think and behave like other children. - - But, alas! - he continued, shaking his head again and wiping away a tear that was rolling down his cheek, - my Tristram’s misfortunes began nine months before he was born.
My mother, who was sitting nearby, looked up, but understood as little of what my father wanted to say as her back did, but my uncle, Mr. Toby Shandy, who had heard about it many times before, understood my father perfectly.
Chapter IV
I know that there are readers in the world - like many other good people who don’t read anything at all - who will not rest until you initiate them from beginning to end into the secrets of everything that concerns you.
It was only in consideration of this whim of theirs and because I am by nature incapable of deceiving anyone’s expectations that I delved into such details. And since my life and opinions will probably make some noise in the world and, if my assumptions are correct, will have success among people of all ranks, professions and opinions, they will be read no less than the Pilgrim's Progress itself - while they If, in the end, Montaigne feared that his Essays would not suffer the fate of lying on the living room windows, I consider it necessary to pay a little attention to each in turn and, therefore, must apologize for the fact that I will continue to follow the chosen path for a while longer. my way. In a word, I am very pleased that I began the story of my life the way I did, and can tell in it everything, as Horace says, ab ovo.
Horace, I know, does not recommend this method; but this venerable man speaks only of an epic poem or a tragedy (I forgot what exactly); - - and if this, among other things, is not so, I ask Mr. Horace's apology, - for in the book that I have begun, I do not intend to constrain myself with any rules, even Horace's rules.
And to those readers who have no desire to go into such matters, I can give no better advice than to suggest that they skip the rest of this chapter; for I declare in advance that it is written only for inquisitive and inquisitive people.
- - - - - Close the doors. - - - - - I was conceived on the night from the first Sunday to the first Monday of the month of March, the summer of the Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighteen. I have no doubts about this. “And I owe such detailed information regarding the event that happened before my birth to another small anecdote, known only in our family, but now announced for a better understanding of this point.
I must tell you that my father, who initially carried on trade with Turkey, but several years ago left business to settle on a family estate in the county of *** and end his days there, my father, I believe, was one of the most punctual people in in everything, both in business and in entertainment. Here is an example of his extreme precision, to which he truly was a slave: for many years now he had made it a rule on the first Sunday evening of every month, from the beginning to the end of the year, with the same strictness with which Sunday evening came, - with his own hand winding the large clock that stood at the top of our back stairs. “And since at the time I was talking about he was in his sixties, he little by little transferred some other minor family matters to that evening; so that, as he often used to say to Uncle Toby, he could get rid of them all at once and so that they would no longer pester or disturb him until the end of the month.
But there was one unpleasant side to this punctuality, which affected me especially painfully and the consequences of which, I am afraid, I will feel until my grave, namely: thanks to the unfortunate association of ideas that in reality are not connected with each other, my poor mother could not to hear the said watch being wound up - without thoughts about some other things immediately entering her head - and vice versa. This strange combination of ideas, as asserted by the astute Locke, who doubtless understood the nature of such things better than other men, has given rise to more absurd acts than any other cause of misunderstanding.
But this is in passing.
Further, from one note in my notebook lying on the table in front of me, it appears that “on the day of the Annunciation, which fell on the 25th day of the very month with which I mark my conception, my father went to London with my elder brother Bobby to send him to Westminster School,” and since the same source testifies “that he returned to his wife and family only in the second week of May,” the event is established with almost complete certainty. However, what was said at the beginning of the next chapter excludes any doubts on this score.
- - - But tell me, please, sir, what did your dad do throughout December, January and February? “If you please, madam,” all this time he had an attack of sciatica.
Chapter V
On the fifth of November, 1718, that is, exactly nine calendar months after the above date, with an accuracy that would satisfy the reasonable expectations of the most captious husband, I, Tristram Shandy, gentleman, was born on our mangy and ill-fated earth. - I would prefer to be born on the Moon or on one of the planets (just not on Jupiter or Saturn, because I absolutely cannot stand the cold); after all, on none of them (I can’t vouch for Venus, however) I certainly could not have had a worse time than on our dirty, crappy planet - which I in all conscience consider, not to say worse, made from the scrapings and scraps of all the others ; - - it is, however, good enough for those who were born on it with a big name or with a big fortune, or who managed to be called to public positions and positions that give honor or power; - but this does not apply to me; - - and since everyone is inclined to judge a fair by his own earnings, - then I again and again declare the earth to be the meanest world that was ever created; - after all, with a clear conscience, I can say that from the time I first drew air into my chest, until this hour, when I can hardly breathe at all, due to asthma, caught while skating against the wind in Flanders , - I was constantly the plaything of so-called Fortune; and although I will not blame her in vain, saying that she ever made me feel the weight of great or extraordinary grief, still, showing the greatest condescension, I must testify that in all periods of my life, at all paths and crossroads, wherever she could approach me, this unmerciful mistress sent upon me a bunch of the most regrettable misadventures and hardships that had ever befallen the little hero.
Chapter VI
At the beginning of the previous chapter, I told you exactly when I was born, but I did not tell you how it happened. No; This particular is reserved entirely for a separate chapter; “Besides, sir, since you and I are in some ways complete strangers to each other, it would be inconvenient to tell you too many details concerning me at once. - You will have to be patient a little. I set out, you see, to describe not only my life, but also my opinions, in the hope and expectation that, having learned from the first my character and having understood what kind of person I am, you will feel a greater taste for the latter. When you stay with me longer, the easy acquaintance that we are now establishing will turn into a short relationship, and the latter, unless one of us makes some mistake, will end in friendship. - - O diem praeclarum! - then not a single little thing, if it concerns me, will seem empty to you or the story about it boring. Therefore, dear friend and companion, if you find that at the beginning of my story I am somewhat reserved, - be lenient with me, - allow me to continue and tell the story in my own way, - and if I happen from time to time to frolic on the road - or sometimes put on a jester's cap with a bell for a minute or two - don't run away - but kindly imagine in me a little more wisdom than it seems on the surface - and laugh with me or at me while we slowly trudge on; in a word, do whatever you want, just don’t lose patience.
Chapter VII
In the same village where my father and mother lived, there lived a midwife, a lean, honest, caring, homely, kind old woman who, with the help of a little common sense and many years of extensive practice, in which she always relied not so much on her own efforts , much like Lady Nature, has acquired considerable fame in the world in her business; - But I must immediately bring to the attention of your honor that by the word light I here do not designate the entire circle of the large light, but only the small one inscribed in it? a circle about four English miles in diameter, the center of which was the house of our good old woman. - - In the forty-seventh year of her life, she was left a widow, without any means, with three or four small children, and since she was at that time a woman of a sedate appearance, decent behavior, taciturn and, moreover, arousing compassion: the resignation with which She endured her grief, the more loudly she called for friendly support - then the parish priest’s wife took pity on her: the latter had long complained about the inconvenience that her husband’s flock had to endure for many years, who did not have the opportunity to get a midwife, even in the most extreme case, closer than six or seven miles, which seven miles on dark nights and on bad roads - the area around was completely viscous clay - turned into almost fourteen, which was sometimes equivalent to the complete absence of any midwives in the world; So it occurred to the compassionate lady what a blessing it would be for the whole parish and especially for the poor widow to teach her a little about the art of midwifery so that she could feed on it. And since no woman nearby could carry out this plan better than its originator, the priest’s wife selflessly took up the matter herself and, thanks to her influence on the female part of the parish, brought it to completion without much difficulty. In truth, the priest also took part in this enterprise and, in order to arrange everything as it should be, that is, to give the poor woman legal rights to practice the business in which she was learning from his wife, he very willingly paid the court fees for the patent, amounting to in total eighteen shillings and four pence; so that, with the assistance of both spouses, the good woman was actually and undoubtedly introduced into the duties of her office, with all the rights, appurtenances, and powers of every kind attached to it.
These last words, I must tell you, did not coincide with the ancient formula according to which such patents, privileges and certificates, hitherto issued in such cases to the class of midwives, were usually drawn up. They followed Didius's elegant formula of his own invention; Feeling an extraordinary passion for breaking and creating anew all sorts of things of this kind, he not only came up with this subtle amendment, but also persuaded many long-time certified matrons from the surrounding areas to resubmit their patents to add their own invention to them.
Frankly, such quirks of Didius never aroused envy in me - - but everyone has their own taste. Wasn’t it the greatest pleasure in the world for Doctor Kunastrochia, that great man, to comb donkey tails in his leisure hours and pluck out gray hairs with his teeth, although he always had tweezers in his pocket? Yes, sir, for that matter, didn't the wisest men of all times, not excluding Solomon himself, - didn't each of them have their hobby: racehorses, - coins and shells, drums and trumpets, violins, palettes , - - cocoons and butterflies? - and as long as a man quietly and peacefully rides on his horse along the highway and does not force either you or me to sit on this horse with him, - - - pray tell, sir, what do we or I have to do with this?
Chapter VIII
De gustibus non est disputandum, - this means that one should not argue about skates; I rarely do this myself, and I could not do it in a decent manner even if I were their sworn enemy; after all, it sometimes happens to me, in other phases of the moon, to be both a violinist and a painter, depending on which fly bites me; Let it be known to you that I myself keep a couple of horses, on which, in turn (I don’t care who knows about it), I often go for a walk and get some air; - sometimes, to my shame I must admit, I take slightly longer walks than a sage should think. But the whole point is that I am not a sage; - - - and, besides, the person is so insignificant that it does not matter at all what I do; That is why I rarely worry or fume about this, and my peace is not very disturbed when I see such important gentlemen and high personages as the following - such as my Lords A, B, C, D, E, E, F, Z, I, K, L, M, H, O, P and so on, all sitting on their various skates; - some of them, having let go of the stirrups, move with an important measured step, - - - others, on the contrary, with their legs bent up to their chins, with a whip in their teeth, rush at full speed, like motley little devil jockeys riding on restless souls, - - - exactly they decided to break their necks. “So much the better,” I tell myself; - after all, if the worst happens, the world will do just fine without them; - and as for the rest, - - - well, - - - God help them, - - let them ride, I won’t bother them; for if their lordships are dismounted this evening, I'll wager ten to one that before morning many of them will find themselves mounted on even worse horses.
Thus, none of these oddities is capable of disturbing my peace. - - - But there is a case that, I confess, confuses me - namely, when I see a person born for great deeds and, which serves even more to his honor, by nature always disposed to do good; - - when I see a man like you, my lord, whose convictions and actions are as pure and noble as his blood, - and without whom, for this reason, the corrupt world cannot do for a moment; - when I see, my lord, such a person riding around on his horse even a minute longer than the time allotted to him by my love for his native country and my concern for his glory, then I, my lord, cease to be a philosopher and in the first fit of noble anger I send to the line between his skate and all the skates in the world.
My lord,
I maintain that these lines are a dedication, despite all its extraordinaryness in three most significant respects: in relation to content, form and place allocated to it; I beg you, therefore, to accept him as such, and allow me to most respectfully lay him at your Lordship's feet, - if you stand on them, - which is in your power, whenever you please, - and which happens, my lord, whenever the occasion presents itself and, I dare add, always gives the best results.
My lord,
Your Excellency's most humble,
most devoted
and the lowest servant,
Tristram Shandy.
Chapter IX
I solemnly bring to the notice of all that the above dedication was not intended for any prince, prelate, pope or sovereign - duke, marquis, earl, viscount or baron of our or any other Christian country; - - and also has not hitherto been sold on the streets and has not been offered to either great or small people, either publicly or privately, either directly or indirectly; but it is a truly virgin initiation, which no living soul has ever touched.
I dwell upon this point at such length simply to remove any criticism or objection to the manner in which I propose to make the most of it, namely, by putting it up for fair sale at public auction; which is what I do now.
Each author defends himself in his own way; - as for me, I hate haggling and bickering over a few guineas in dark hallways - and from the very beginning I decided to act directly and openly with the greats of this world, in the hope that in this way I would best succeed.
So, if in His Majesty’s dominions there is a duke, marquis, earl, viscount or baron who would need a neat, elegant dedication and for whom the above would suit (by the way, if it doesn’t fit in the slightest bit, I’ll keep him), - - it is at his service for fifty guineas; - - which, I assure you, is twenty guineas cheaper than any man of talent would have taken for it.
If you read it carefully again, my lord, you will be convinced that there is no crude flattery in it at all, as in other dedications. His idea, as you see, your Excellency, is excellent, - the colors are transparent, - the drawing is not bad, - or, to speak in a more scientific language - and to evaluate my work according to the 20-point system accepted among painters - - then I think, my lord, that for contours I can give 12, - for composition 9, - for colors 6, - for expression 13 and a half, - and for design, - assuming, my lord, that I understand my plan and that an absolutely perfect plan is valued at 20, - I think it’s impossible to put less than 19. In addition to all this, my work is distinguished by the correspondence of the parts, and the dark strokes of the horse (which is a secondary figure and serves as a background for the whole) extremely enhance the light colors concentrated on your Excellency’s face, and wonderfully it is shaded; - in addition, the tout ensemble bears the stamp of originality.
Be good enough, my lord, to cause the said sum to be paid to Mr. Dodsley for delivery to the author, and I will see to it that in the next edition this chapter is crossed out, and your Lordship's titles, honors, arms, and good deeds are placed at the beginning of the previous one. chapter, which in its entirety, from the words: de gustibus non est disputandum - together with everything that is said in this book about skates, but no more, should be considered as a dedication to your Excellency. “I dedicate the rest to the Moon, which, by the way, of all imaginable patrons or matrons, is most capable of giving my book a go and driving the whole world crazy with it.”
Light goddess,
If you are not too busy with the affairs of Candide and Miss Cunegonde, take Tristram Shandy under your protection as well.
Chapter X
Whether the help provided to the midwife could be considered even a modest merit, and to whom this merit rightfully belonged, at first glance seems of little significance for our story; - - It is true, however, that at that time this honor was entirely attributed to the above-mentioned lady, the priest’s wife. But, for the life of me, I cannot refuse the thought that the priest himself, even if he was not the first to come up with this whole plan, nevertheless, since he took a heartfelt part in it as soon as he was initiated into it, and willingly gave the money to carry it out - which the priest, I repeat, also had the right to some share of the praise - unless a good half of the entire honor of this deed belonged to him.
The world wished at that time to decide otherwise.
Put the book aside, and I will give you half a day to come up with any satisfactory explanation of this behavior of light.
Please know that five years before the story so thoroughly told to you about the midwife's patent, the priest we are talking about made himself the talk of the surrounding population, violating all decency in relation to himself, his position and his rank; - - - he never appeared on horseback except on a skinny, pitiful bed, which cost no more than one pound fifteen shillings; this horse, to shorten his description, was the spitting image of Rocinante’s brother - the family resemblance between them extended so far; for in every way he absolutely fit the description of the horse of the La Mancha knight, with the only difference that, as far as I remember, it is not said anywhere that Rocinante suffered from the fuse; Moreover, Rocinante, by the happy privilege of most Spanish horses, fat and lean, was undoubtedly a horse in every respect.
I know very well that the hero’s horse was a chaste horse, and this, perhaps, gave rise to the opposite opinion; however, it is equally certain that Rocinante’s abstinence (as can be concluded from the adventure with the Inguas drivers) did not stem from any physical defect or other similar reason, but solely from the moderation and calm flow of his blood. “And let me tell you, madam, that in the world there is often chaste behavior in favor of which you will not say anything more, no matter how hard you try.”
But be that as it may, since I set myself the goal of being completely impartial in relation to every creature brought onto the stage of this dramatic work, I could not remain silent about the said difference in favor of Don Quixote’s horse; - - in all other respects, the priest’s horse, I repeat, was a perfect likeness of Rocinante - this skinny, this gaunt, this pitiful nag would have been a match for Humility itself.
According to some people of narrow minds, the priest had every opportunity to dress up his horse; - he owned a very beautiful cavalry saddle, lined with green plush and decorated with a double row of nails with silver heads, and a pair of shiny brass stirrups and a quite suitable saddle cloth of first-class gray cloth with a black border around the edges, ending in a thick black silk fringe, poudr? d"or, - he acquired all this in the proud spring of his life, along with a large chased bridle, decorated as expected. - - But, not wanting to make his horse a laughing stock, he hung all these trinkets outside the door of his study and wisely equipped it instead them with such a bridle and such a saddle that exactly matched the appearance and price of his horse.
During his trips in this form around the parish and on visits to neighboring landowners, the priest - you can easily understand this - had the opportunity to hear and see quite a lot of things that did not allow his philosophy to rust. To tell the truth, he could not appear in any village without attracting the attention of all its inhabitants, young and old. - - Work stopped when he passed - the tub hung in the air in the middle of the well, - - the spinning wheel forgot to spin - - - even those playing toss and ball stood with their mouths open until he disappeared from sight; and since his horse was not fast, he usually had enough time to make observations - to hear the grumbling of serious people - and the laughter of frivolous ones - and he endured all this with imperturbable calm. “That was his character,” he loved jokes with all his heart, “and since he seemed funny to himself, he said that he could not be angry with others for seeing him in the same light as he sees himself with such indisputability, which is why, when his friends, who knew that the love of money was not his weakness, made fun of his eccentricity without any embarrassment, he preferred - instead of naming the true reason - to laugh with them above oneself; and since he himself never had an ounce of meat on his bones and in terms of leanness he could compete with his horse, he sometimes claimed that his horse was exactly what a rider deserves; - that both of them, like a centaur, form one whole. And sometimes, in a different state of mind, inaccessible to the temptations of false wit, the priest said that consumption would soon bring him to the grave, and with great seriousness assured that he was not able to look at a fattened horse without a shudder and a strong palpitation, and that he chose giving yourself a skinny nag not only to maintain your own peace of mind, but also to maintain your vigor.
Each time he gave thousands of new amusing and convincing explanations why a quiet, scorched nag was preferable to him than a hot horse: - after all, on such a nag he could sit carefree and think de vanitate mundi et fuga saeculi with the same success as if in front of his eyes he had a skull; - could spend time in any activities, driving at a slow pace, with the same benefit as in his office; - - could add an extra argument to his sermon - or an extra hole to his trousers - as confidently in his saddle as in his chair - while a fast trot and a slow search for logical arguments are movements as incompatible as wit and prudence. - But on his horse - he could unite and reconcile anything - he could indulge in composing a sermon, surrender to peaceful digestion and, if nature required it, could also succumb to slumber. - In a word, when talking on this topic, the priest referred to any reasons, but not to the true one, - he hid the true reason out of delicacy, believing that it did him honor.
The truth was this: in his youth, around the time he acquired a luxurious saddle and bridle, the priest was in the habit, or vainglorious whim, or whatever you want to call it, of going to the opposite extreme. - In the area where he lived, there was a reputation about him that he loved good horses, and in his stable he usually had a horse ready for saddle, the best of which could not be found in the whole parish. Meanwhile, the nearest midwife, as I told you, lived seven miles from that village, and, moreover, in a roadless place - so not a week passed without our poor priest being disturbed with a tearful request to borrow a horse; and since he was not hard-hearted, and the need for help was each time more acute and the position of the mother in labor more difficult, no matter how much he loved his horse, he was still never able to refuse the request; as a result, his horse usually returned either with skinned legs, or with bone spar, or with a crouch; - either torn, or with a fuse - in a word, sooner or later only skin and bones remained from the animal; - so that every nine or ten months the priest had to sell off the bad horse - and replace it with a good one.
What size the loss could have reached with such a communibus annis balance, I leave it to be determined by a special jury of victims under similar circumstances; - but no matter how great it was, our hero bore it for many years without complaint, until, finally, after repeated repetition of accidents of this kind, he found it necessary to subject the matter to a thorough discussion; Having weighed everything and mentally calculated, he found the loss not only disproportionate to his other expenses, but also, regardless of them, extremely heavy, depriving him of any opportunity to do other good deeds in his parish. In addition, he came to the conclusion that even with half the money traveled in this way, ten times more good could be done; - - but even more important than all these considerations taken together was that now all his charity was concentrated in a very narrow area, moreover, in one where, in his opinion, there was the least need for it, namely: it extended only on the child-producing and childbearing part of his parishioners, so that there was nothing left either for the powerless, or for the elderly, or for the many bleak phenomena that he observed almost hourly, in which poverty, illness and sorrow were combined.
For these reasons, he decided to stop spending on a horse, but he saw only two ways to get rid of them completely - namely: either make it an immutable law for himself never to give him his horse again, regardless of any requests - or give up and agree to ride on the pathetic nag into which his last horse was turned, with all its illnesses and infirmities.
Since he did not rely on his fortitude in the first case, he chose the second method with a joyful heart, and although he could very well, as was said above, give him a flattering explanation for himself, it was precisely for this reason that he disdained resorting to it, ready to endure the scorn of his enemies and the laughter of his friends rather than suffer the painful embarrassment of telling a story that might seem like self-aggrandizement.
This character trait alone inspires me with the highest idea of ​​the delicacy and nobility of feelings of a venerable clergyman; I believe that it can be put on a par with the noblest spiritual qualities of the incomparable La Mancha knight, whom, by the way, I love from the bottom of my heart with all his follies, and to visit him I would travel a much longer distance than to meet the greatest hero of antiquity .
But this is not the moral of my story: in telling it, I meant to depict the behavior of light in this whole matter. “For you must know that while such an explanation would have done honor to the priest, not a single living soul thought of it: his enemies, I believe, did not want to, and his friends could not.” - - - But as soon as he took part in the efforts to help the midwife and paid fees for the right to practice, the whole secret came out; all the horses that he had lost, and in addition to them two more horses that he had never lost, and also all the circumstances of their death now became known in detail and were clearly remembered. - The rumor about this spread like Greek fire. - “The priest has an attack of his old pride; he's going to ride a good horse again; and if this is so, then it is clear as day that already in the first year he will cover all the costs of paying for the patent tenfold; “Everyone can now judge with what intentions he committed this good deed.”
What were his views in carrying out both this and all the other affairs of his life - or, rather, what other people thought about it - this is the thought that stubbornly clung to his own brain and very often disturbed his peace when he needed sound sleep.
About ten years ago, our hero was lucky enough to get rid of all worries on this score - exactly the same amount of time had passed since he left his parish - and with him this world - and came to give an account to the judge, on the decision of which he will have no reason to complain.
But some kind of fate hangs over the affairs of some people. No matter how hard you try, they always pass through a certain medium, which refracts them so much and distorts their true direction - - - that with all the right to the gratitude that straightforwardness deserves, these people are still forced to live and die without receiving it.
Our priest was a sad example of this truth... But to find out how this happened - and to learn a lesson from the knowledge received, you must read the next two chapters, which contain an outline of his life and judgments, containing a clear moral. “When this is over, we intend to continue the story of the midwife, if nothing stops us along the way.”
Chapter XI
Yorick was the name of a priest, and, what is most remarkable, as is clear from a very old charter about his family, written on strong parchment and still perfectly preserved, this name was written in exactly the same way for almost - I almost said nine hundred years, - - but I will not undermine my credibility by communicating such an incredible, although indisputable truth - - and therefore I will be content with the statement - that it was written in exactly the same way, without the slightest change or rearrangement of even one letter, from time immemorial ; but I would not dare say this about half the best names of our kingdom, who, over the years, usually underwent as many vicissitudes and changes as their owners.