Laurence Sterne's Tristram Shandy, Abridged Read online



  Laurence Sterne’s

  Tristram Shandy

  Abridged

  Emma Laybourn

  (editor)

  Copyright 2016 Emma Laybourn

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Book 1

  Book 2

  Book 3

  Book 4

  Book 5

  Book 6

  Book 7

  Book 8

  Book 9

  Introduction

  The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman was first published between 1759 and 1767 in nine volumes. It was highly popular at the time, and ever since has been regarded as one of the landmarks of English literature, as well as an influence on many later writers, from James Joyce to the Monty Python team.

  Tristram Shandy is not so much a novel as an entertainment – and sometimes a chaotic one. Supposedly an autobiography, it quickly becomes apparent that this is nothing of the sort. The narrator never gets much beyond his own birth, apart from a brief diversion into his adult travels in France. Instead, the book is a rambling, zigzagging bundle of anecdotes, snippets, thoughts, sketches and asides.

  The leading characters are Tristram’s father Walter, his Uncle Toby and their servants and associates. Walter and Toby Shandy are marked by their love of their ‘Hobby-Horses’ – obsessive enthusiasms which steer their lives. Uncle Toby’s hobby-horse is military fortifications, while Walter’s is proving his eccentric hypotheses on such things as the importance of noses.

  Tristram’s own chief hobby-horse could be said to be his writing. A enthusiastic recorder of minute detail, he loves to show off his learning: so the book is full of scholarly name-dropping and philosophical diversions, as he leapfrogs from one scene and subject to another, frequently despairing of fitting everything in.

  An abridgment, of course, cannot fit everything in, and some of Tristram’s prolixity has had to go. So have his quotations in Greek, and long Latin sections in Book III and Book IV (in each case, Sterne supplied an English translation.) A French passage in Book I remains; but a summary in English follows it.

  In all, this version of Tristram Shandy has been distilled to about two-thirds of the original length. Although no chapters have been omitted, many passages have been shortened and simplified to clarify their meaning; and any bafflingly obscure jokes and references have been cut.

  The aim is to make the book more comprehensible to the modern reader, without losing its eighteenth century style. So, while some vocabulary has been modernised, archaic forms have been left where they are easily understood. In particular, quoth (for said) has been retained, as has the use of thee and thou between members of the Shandy family, and between Uncle Toby and his faithful servant Trim; where it is a mark not just of familiarity but of tender affection.

  For affection is what the book is woven from. With all its tangled knots of erudition, and abundance of loose ends, its most consistent thread is Tristram Shandy’s love for his unworldly uncle Toby.

  If you are studying Tristram Shandy for academic purposes, this abridgment is best used as an introduction to the full text. This version is based on the 1781 edition, which can be downloaded free from Project Gutenberg; and numerous other editions are available elsewhere.

  The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

  By Laurence Sterne

  Abridged Edition

  BOOK 1

  CHAPTER 1

  I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both, had minded what they were about when they begot me. Had they considered how much depended upon what they were doing; – that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned, but the happy formation of his body and the very cast of his mind – for all they knew, the fortunes of his whole house might depend on the humours which were uppermost in them at the time of conception – had they duly weighed all this, and proceeded accordingly, I should have made a quite different figure in the world.

  –Believe me, good folks, this is not so slight a thing as you may think.

  You have all, I dare say, heard of the animal spirits, and how they are transfused from father to son in the act of procreation, &c., &c. –Well, you may take my word, that nine parts in ten of a man’s sense or his nonsense, his successes and failures, depend upon those spirits’ activity, and the different paths you put them into, so that when they are once set a-going, whether right or wrong, away they go cluttering like hey-go mad; and by treading the same steps over and over, they make a road as smooth as a garden-walk, which the Devil himself shall not be able to drive them off it.

  ‘Pray, my Dear,’ quoth my mother, ‘have you not forgot to wind up the clock?’

  ‘Good G__!’ cried my father, taking care to keep his voice down. –‘Did ever woman, since the creation of the world, interrupt a man with such a silly question?’

  Pray, what was your father saying when she interrupted?

  Saying? –Nothing.

  CHAPTER 2

  Then, there is nothing in the question that I can see, either good or bad.

  –Then, let me tell you, Sir, it was a very badly-timed question, because it scattered the animal spirits, who should have escorted and gone hand in hand with the Homunculus, the newly created little being: and have conducted him safe to the place destined for his reception.

  The Homunculus, Sir, however ludicrous he may appear to the eye of folly or prejudice; – to the eye of scientific reason, he is a Being with rights. Philosophers show us that the Homunculus consists as we do, of skin, hair, fat, flesh, veins, arteries, nerves, bones, marrow, brains, glands, genitals and humours; – that he is as truly our fellow-creature as the Lord Chancellor of England. In a word, he has all the rights of humanity, as laid down by Tully, Pullendorf and the best ethic writers.

  Now, dear Sir, what if any accident had befallen him in his way! Or if, through terror, my little Gentleman had got to his journey’s end miserably spent; his strength and virility worn down to a thread; his own animal spirits ruffled beyond description,– and that in this sad disordered state of nerves, he had lain a prey to fear and melancholy for nine long, long months together. I tremble to think what a foundation would have been laid for a thousand weaknesses of body and mind, which could never afterwards be set to rights.

  CHAPTER 3

  I owe the preceding anecdote to my uncle Mr. Toby Shandy, to whom my father had oft and heavily complained of the injury. Once, particularly, as my uncle Toby remembered – upon my father’s observing a most unaccountable slant in my manner of setting up my spinning-top, the old gentleman shook his head, and in a sorrowful tone said his heart had all along foreboded that I should neither think nor act like any other child.

  ‘Alas!’ continued he, wiping a tear from his cheeks, ‘my Tristram’s misfortunes began nine months before ever he came into the world.’

  My mother, who was sitting by, looked up, but she knew no more than her backside what my father meant. However, my uncle, Mr. Toby Shandy, who had been often informed of the affair, understood him very well.

  CHAPTER 4

  I know there are readers who find themselves ill at ease unless they are let into the whole secret, from first to last, of everything which concerns you.

  It is in order not to disappoint them that I have been so very particular already. As my life and opinions are likely to make some noise in the world, and will be no less read than the Pilgrim’s Progress itself, I must beg pardon for going on a little further in the same way. Right glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself like this; tracing everything, as Horace says, ab Ovo, or from the Egg.

  Horace, I know, does
not recommend this fashion altogether: but he is speaking of an epic poem or a tragedy (I forget which); – besides, begging Mr. Horace’s pardon, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any other man’s.

  To those, however, who do not choose to go so far back, I can only advise that they skip over the rest of this chapter; for ’tis wrote only for the curious and inquisitive.

  ------Shut the door. -----

  I was begot in the night betwixt the first Sunday and the first Monday of March, 1718. I am positive I was, owing to another small anecdote known only in our family, but now made public to clear up this point.

  My father, you must know, who was originally a Turkey merchant trading with the Levant, had left off business for some years, in order to retire to his estate in the country.

  He was, I believe, one of the most regular men that ever lived in everything he did, whether business, or amusement. For example, he had made it a rule for many years, on the first Sunday-night of every month, to wind up a large clock which we had standing on the back-stairs. And being somewhere between fifty and sixty years of age at the time, he had likewise gradually brought some other little marital concerns to the same day – in order, as he would often say to my uncle Toby, to get them all out of the way at the same time, and be no more plagued and pestered with them the rest of the month.

  The arrangement brought with it one misfortune, the effects of which I fear I shall carry with me to my grave; namely, that from an unhappy association of ideas, at length my poor mother could never hear the said clock being wound up, without the thoughts of some other things unavoidably popping into her head – and vice versa.

  Now it appears by a memorandum in my father’s pocket-book, which now lies upon the table, that on the 25th of the month in which I was conceived, my father set out to London with my elder brother Bobby, to fix him at Westminster school; and, as it appears from the same book that he did not return to his wife and family till the second week in May, it makes the thing almost certain. However, what follows in the beginning of the next chapter, puts it beyond all doubt.

  – But pray, Sir, What was your father doing all December, January, and February?

  – Why, Madam, he was all that time afflicted with a Sciatica.

  CHAPTER 5

  On the fifth day of November, 1718, which was as near nine months as any husband could reasonably expect, I, Tristram Shandy, Gentleman, was brought forth into this scurvy and disastrous world of ours.

  – I wish I had been born on the Moon, or in any of the planets, for it could not have fared worse with me than it has in this vile, dirty planet of ours, which I take to be made up of the shreds and clippings of the rest.

  This planet is well enough, if a man is born to a great title or a great estate; or has employment of dignity or power; but that is not my case; and so I say again it is one of the vilest worlds that ever was made; for truly, from the first hour I drew my breath, to now, when I can scarce draw breath at all, because of an asthma I got in skating against the wind in Flanders, I have been the continual plaything of Fortune. Though I cannot say she has ever done me any great evil, yet I affirm that in every stage of my life, and at every turn and corner where she could get at me, the ungracious duchess has pelted me with a set of as pitiful misadventures and cross accidents as ever small Hero sustained.

  CHAPTER 6

  In the beginning of the last chapter, I informed you exactly when I was born; but I did not inform you how. That is reserved for a chapter by itself; – besides, Sir, as you and I are perfect strangers, it would not be proper to let you into too many circumstances relating to me all at once. You must have a little patience.

  I have undertaken, you see, to write not only my life, but my opinions also; hoping and expecting that your knowledge of the one will give you a better relish for the other. As you proceed farther with me, the slight acquaintance, which is now beginning betwixt us, will grow into familiarity; and, unless one of us is in fault, will terminate in friendship. O famous day! – then nothing which has touched me will be thought trifling or tedious.

  Therefore, my dear friend and companion, bear with me, and let me tell my story my own way. Or, if I should seem now and then to trifle upon the road – or should sometimes put on a fool’s cap with a bell to it – don’t fly off, but rather give me credit for a little more wisdom than appears upon my outside; and as we jog on, either laugh with me, or at me, or in short, do anything, only keep your temper.

  CHAPTER 7

  In the village where my father and my mother dwelt, lived a thin, upright, motherly, good old body of a midwife, who, with the help of a little plain good sense, and some years employment in her business, in which she trusted little to her own efforts, and a great deal to those of dame Nature, had acquired a reputation in the world: – by the word world, I mean a small circle of about four English miles diameter, with the good old woman’s cottage at its centre.

  She had been left a widow in distress, with three or four small children, in her forty-seventh year; and as she was a grave and decent woman of few words, the parson’s wife pitied her; and having often lamented that there was no midwife within seven long miles riding – which was more like fourteen in dark nights and dismal roads, our countryside being all deep clay – it came into her head, that it would be doing a kindness to the whole parish and the poor creature herself, to get her instructed in the business, and set her up in it.

  The parson cheerfully paid the fees for the midwife’s licence, amounting to eighteen shillings and four pence; so that betwixt them both, the good woman was fully invested in the real and corporal possession of her office, together with all its rights, members, and appurtenances whatsoever.

  These last words, you must know, were not according to the old form in which such licences usually ran. But they follow a neat Formula devised by Didius, who having a particular turn for taking apart and re-framing all kind of instruments, not only hit upon this dainty amendment, but coaxed many of the old licensed matrons in the neighbourhood to open their faculties afresh, in order to have this wham-wham of his inserted.

  I own I never could envy Didius his fancies. But every man to his own taste. Did not Dr. Kunastrokius, that great man, at his leisure hours, take the greatest delight in combing asses’ tails, and plucking the dead hairs out with his teeth?

  Nay, Sir, have not the wisest men in all ages, even Solomon himself – have they not had their Hobby-Horses; – for example, their race-horses, their coins and cockle-shells, their drums and trumpets, their fiddles, their palettes, their maggots and their butterflies? So long as a man rides his Hobby-Horse peaceably along the King’s highway, and compels neither you nor me to get up behind him – pray, Sir, what have you or I to do with it?

  CHAPTER 8

  De gustibus non est disputandum; that is, there is no arguing with Hobby-Horses. For my part, I seldom do; nor could I with any grace, since I happen, at certain phases of the moon, to be both fiddler and painter. Indeed, I keep a couple of nags myself, upon which (and I do not care who knows it) I frequently ride out and take the air; though sometimes on longer journeys than a wise man would think right. But the truth is, I am not a wise man; – and besides am of so little consequence, it does not matter what I do: so I seldom fret about it.

  Nor does it much disturb my rest, when I see great Lords and tall Personages, such as my Lords A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, K, L, M, N, and so on, all of a row, mounted upon their hobby-horses; – some with large stirrups, stepping gravely; others scampering it away like so many little party-coloured devils astride a mortgage, as if they were resolved to break their necks. So much the better, say I; for if the worst should happen, the world will manage excellently well without them; and for the rest, why, let them ride on; for if their lordships were unhorsed this very night, ten to one they would be worse mounted before tomorrow morning.

  None of these instances disturbs me. But there is an instance, which I own puts me off my guard, and that is, when I
see one born for great actions – such a one, my Lord, as yourself, whose principles and conduct are as generous and noble as his blood – when I see such a one, my Lord, mounted, then I cease to be a philosopher, and with honest impatience I wish the Hobby-Horse at the Devil.

  ‘My Lord,

  ‘I maintain this to be a dedication, despite its unusual matter, form, and place: I beg, therefore, you will accept it as such, and that you will permit me to lay it, with the most respectful humility, at your Lordship’s feet – when you are upon them, which you can be when you please – and that is, my Lord, whenever there is occasion for it. I have the honour to be,

  My Lord,

  Your Lordship’s most obedient,

  and most devoted,

  and most humble servant,

  TRISTRAM SHANDY.

  CHAPTER 9

  I solemnly declare that the above dedication was made for no one Prince, Pope, or Potentate, Duke, Marquis, Earl, or Baron, of this, or any other Realm; nor has it yet been hawked about, or offered to any person; but is honestly a true Virgin-Dedication untried upon any soul living.

  I make this point merely to remove any objection which might arise against the use I propose to make of it; – which is to put it up for public sale; as I now do.

  As I hate bargaining and haggling for a few guineas in a dark entry, I resolved, from the very beginning, to deal openly with your Great Folks in this affair, and see whether I should not come off the better by it.

  If therefore there is any Duke, Marquis, Earl, or Baron, in this land, who stands in need of a tight, genteel dedication, and whom the above will suit, it is at his service for fifty guineas; – which I am positive is twenty guineas less than it ought to cost.

  My Lord, if you examine it again, it is far from being a gross piece of daubing, as some dedications are. The design, your Lordship sees, is good, the colouring transparent, the drawing not amiss; – or to speak more like a man of science, and to measure my piece in the painter’s scale, divided into 20 – I believe, my Lord, the outlines will turn out as 12, the composition as 9, the colouring as 6, the expression 13 and a half, and the design – if I may be allowed, my Lord, to understand my own design, and supposing absolute perfection to be 20, – I think it cannot fall short of 19. Besides all this, the dark strokes in the Hobby-Horse (which is a kind of background to the whole) give great force to your own figure, and make it come off wonderfully; and there is an air of originality in the whole arrangement.