This was a disappointing read, and I imagine it would be for many. After all, it was Sterne's main intention to 'troll' his audience when writing it in the first place. But it wasn't disappointing for this reason. The Georgian era is a favourite of mine in history and literature, for its larger than life characters, flamboyant wigs, and that almost fairy-tale past characterised hunting, feasting, and carousing. Sadly, the rustic decadence and rollicking good time found in The History of Tom Jones is mostly absent here, and whilst Sterne is not lacking in wit, I did not enjoy the ways in which he employed it. Tristram Shandy is the ultimate in shaggy-dog stories, marked by constant digressions, interruptions, asides, and stories within stories within stories to an exasperating degree.
The title itself is misleading, for Tristram is not even born until volume 4, and we do not proceed any further than his very early years. One is certainly not made privy to his opinions. Instead, the book mainly deals with his father, Walter Shandy, his uncle, Captain Toby Shandy, and the latter's manservant, Corporal Trim. There is little in the way of actual plot, for the text is too busy manipulating the reader into a state of frustration and literary unfulfillment. Just when we think the plot is going to get moving again, yet another tedious interlude intervenes. In some ways this can be seen as the first true postmodern novel, despite being published in 1759. Long time followers of my reviews might remember how little I enjoy postmodern literature.
Rating: 2/5
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