Uncover Three Men In A Boat (Three Men, #1) Picturized By Jerome K. Jerome Categorized In Printable Format
Bonus points for having a dog,
The story starts off with a man feeling out of sorts with his London life and leafing through a medical dictionary, Quickly he realises that he is suffering from every single aliment described with the exception of washerwoman's elbow, He rushes off to see the doctor who listens to his story and prescribes him a simple holiday with a pork chop and two pints of beer daily for dinner.
So begins a classic of southern English humour, What strikes me how contemporary the basic set up still feels, An indefinable wrongness and dissatisfaction with daily life, the Doctor in this case acting not as a medical expert but as an embodiment of wisdom, The solution being forced to appreciate the basic pleasures of life, which as the story unfolds are more than just pork chops and beer but more generally an awareness of everyday absurdity.
The journey of three men and a dog in a boat along the Thames prides a basic framework from which all kinds of comic set pieces can be hung.
Rather than go into those struggles with a recalcitrant boat and the fishermen's delight in spinning sagas I'll tell a different story that I heard at a funeral some years ago.
The speaker was remembering his deceased friend who we were laying to rest that day and how when they were all young they decided in the spirit of Three Men in a Boat to travel along the Thames although admittedly without a dog.
Anyhow after a particularly long and tiring day they came ashore by a pub, a very fancy and particular looking establishment to be sure, and one of them went in and asked the barman for three pints of beer.
With more than a slight sneer the barman said "we don't serve pints here",
To which the traveller in all innocence replied "oh, well, in that case can I have six halves please",
As it happens in case anybody thinks such stories are too remote from reality to be possibly true I'll add one of my own, With a colleague at the end of a working day we stopped at a public house, my colleague would invariably have a pint of a very commercial lager which I shall forbear to advertise, while I would apparently look for the meaning of life and so would happen on what ever suggested itself to me and so I asked for beer x ' oh ' quoth the young serving lad 'such beer is too terribly strong, we only serve it by halves', 'fine, I'll have two halves and a pint glass, then' to which request the lad complied.
As perhaps you can imagine, the absurdities added most decidedly to the enjoyment of the drink, This book is a strange mix, Part of it is of a particular kind of obvious humour, Sort of like watching a very pompouslooking person talking loudly into their cellphone and paying no attention to where they are going and therefore fails to notice the banana skin everyone else has been avoiding.
Bamm, down she goes, and hahaha, its just so funny, you have to laugh, There are also amusing incidents with the fox terrier Montmorency, whose chief pleasures in life seem to be fighting and hanging out with packs of street dogs, One gets the impression that JKJ wouldn't at all mind being reincarnated as an immoral, streetfighting, anarchic dog in the care of very liberal and approving owners,
The book is full of sidestories, none of them particularly interesting and some of them absolutely dire, Near the end was a highlyromanticised account of a woman with an illegitimate baby committing suicide by drowning, How the waters lovingly embraced her and gave her peace, That's what's wrong with this book, Highly amusing incidents intermixed with purple prose, a travelogue of some of England's most boring towns, and whatever struck the author as I want to say interesting, but I don't believe it really something that would fill in the narrative and be 'educational'.
A good editor could cut this to a really wonderful funny book only about a thirdlong, In this case the abridged version would be a hell of a lot better than the original and I would have given it more thanstars,
So humourstars
Travelogue and lyrical piecesstar
Montmorency
Av,stars.
Okay. Right from the beginning, it is a hilarious thing to read, This book was written in, and it is still too funny, According to what I read, at first, it was going to be a travel guide, but that got lost among the humorous anecdotes that took over the whole book, I thank you, Jerome, for that,
So, three men with a dog started talking about how ill they were, almost like a contest on who was in the worst shape ever, And then, Jerome said his liver was out of order, Without visiting any doctor, he affirmed that his liver was out of order, How did he know that Because he read a patent liverpill circular, in which were detailed all the symptoms, And that single thing was my first hypochondriacal is that a word laugh, I mean, don't most people do that They feel unwell so they start looking for information, and suddenly they are writing a will because they KNOW it is their last week on earth.
Then, if they have any time left, they visit the doctor, So, Jerome read that circular, and on another opportunity, went to the British Museum with the single purpose of reading about diseases now, we have Wikipedia,
Anyway, every paragraph is filled with amusing lines not stupid funny, but witty funny, The thoughts of these hypochondriacs are written in such a way that you are entertained all the way through, Who never experienced "a general disinclination to work of any kind" Poor boy, he was not lazy, it was his liver!
So, after all this chatting and feeling sorry for themselves, they arrived to the conclusion that all those maladies were caused by overwork.
That is why they decided to take a boating holiday, While describing the trip, the author shared a lot of hilarious anecdotes, And I mean, a lot,
The one thing I didn't like that much is the fact that this story seems to be told by a weird creature I named "Seinlet": there can be a funny paragraph narrated by a hilarious Seinfeld and the next one can be so dramatic like a dying Hamlet.
It is an abrupt change and I was a bit lost, Jeromes funny writing and the poetic writing are really good, if they are far, far away from each other, like in different books or something, . . Otherwise, it can be confusing, At least, it was for me,
"I sat for awhile, frozen with horror and then, in the listlessness of despair, I again turned over the pages, I came to typhoid fever read the symptoms discovered that I had typhoid fever, must have had it for months without knowing it wondered what else I had got turned up St.
Vitus's Dance found, as I expected, that I had that too, began to get interested in my case, and determined to sift it to the bottom, and so started alphabetically read up ague, and learnt that I was sickening for it, and that the acute stage would commence in about another fortnight.
Bright's disease, I was relieved to find, I had only in a modified form, and, so far as that was concerned, I might live for years, Cholera I had, with severe complications and diphtheria I seemed to have been born with, I plodded conscientiously through the twentysix letters, and the only malady I could conclude I had not got was housemaid's knee,
I felt rather hurt about this at first it seemed somehow to be a sort of slight, Why hadn't I got housemaid's knee Why this invidious reservation"
"From the dim woods on either bank, Night's ghostly army, the grey shadows, creep out with noiseless tread to chase away the lingering rear guard of the light, and pass, with noiseless, unseen feet, above the waving rivergrass, and through the sighing rushes and Night, upon her somber throne, folds her black wings above the darkening world, and, from her phantom palace, lit by the pale, reigns in stillness.
"we fall asleep beneath the great, still, and dream that the world is young again young and sweet as she used to be ere the centuries of fret and care had furrowed her fair face, ere her children's sins and follies had made old her loving heart sweet as she was in those bygone days when, a newmade mother, she nursed us, her children, upon her own deep breast ere the wiles of painted civilization had lured us away from her fond arms, and the poisoned sneers of artificiality had made us ashamed of the simple life we led with her, and the simple, stately home where mankind was born so many thousands years ago.
"
"But there, everything has its drawbacks, as the man said when his motherinlaw died, and they came down upon him for the funeral expenses, "
I can quote hundreds of passages, My favorite parts are the funny ones, of course, Oh my, how I laughed, I am out of synonyms for “funny” I think you noticed that, Jerome, you are a new safe place for me,
This is a solid,star book.
Note: I read this book many months ago, . . I'm trying to catch up with my reviews,
Aug '
Also on sitelinkmy blog, Three Men in a Pastiche: To Say Nothing of the Boat
Three tourists A spicy meal The effects of a typhoon Picasso's masterpiece Random thoughts on helicopters The joys of being on land
Three young men were waiting at the docks to be picked up by a ferry boat.
The first of these men is Ted, a man widely praised for his lust for action, It is in his hands, his feet, his nose and other such things that the essence of his being lies, He is said to be the only man who is able to act more quickly than he thinks, regardless of the fact that he does the latter so swiftly that many seem to doubt he does any thinking at all.
This ability is most surprising in combination with his stubbornness to survive the whole business that is life with such bravado, He's a decentralised affair that would send many great communists in a frenzy, with his left hand doing a complicated thing with a phone while talking to a woman while his right eye is looking at his left foot as it kicks someone in the behind, with no apparent logic threading these disparate actions together into what one hopes can be called a "harmonious life" at the end of it all.
The second man whose behind was just briefly mentioned is Earl, Earl is of a different nature altogether, so while his brother is widely praised for action, he is widely praised for nothing whatsoever, That is in part because kind hearts receive no praise in these cold and vicious times and because in a world where actions speak louder than words, he's got nothing to speak for him.
He thinks before he acts, but he does the former so slowly that many seem to doubt he does any thinking at all, thereby allowing observers to give credence to the notion that he is his brother's brother after all.
The third man who was accompanying these brothers is what one could call the happy medium, though he himself prefers to be referred to as the Golden Mean, since it has got a far less mundane ring to it.
An astute observer with a charm that has enthralled entire ballrooms, a companionable polymath with the kind of razorsharp wit that enlivens many conversations, a man that couples thinking to action like internet dating sites couple lovers to psychopaths, he is a man that is mostly known for his humility despite his many other talents.
That third and quite frankly ravishingly handsome man is, as you may have surmised, your humble narrator,
As we were sitting at the dock waiting for the ferry boat that would take us from one paradisiac island to the next, a pang of hunger got the better of me.
A small food stand that was intelligently placed in the vicinity of the waiting space caught my attention and I sped towards it as rapidly as a crocodile would chase Louis Vuitton.
Earl shouted some warnings as I went, relating to the poor quality of the overpriced food and the questionable hygiene and other such trifles that are exceedingly insignificant to a hungry man.
I ordered some noodles with chicken and upon being asked if I wanted it spicy I requested it to be the Golden Mean of Spicy, where small tears of joy well up as your throat emits a gentle warmth and your tongue tingles in delight.
Despite this elaborate explanation the vendor had misconstrued my meaning and served me with what once were the contents of the now dormant Mount Vesuvius, Appearances would have it that this devious man had scooped up the insides of this legendary volcano and decided to pour them on my chicken noodles in great quantities, I would have uttered an objection to his recipe, had it not been that my voice had made way for a column of blazing hellfire that only the steady stream of my salty tears could hope to put out.
Miraculously I averted slipping into a coma and made my way back to my friends, just in time to get on the boat, As I regained the first traces of the power of thought, I ruminated on those tales of firebreathing dragons and thought it very logical that they always seemed in such bad spirits and further considered it to their benefit that they hadn't been expected to actually exist.
It was a big ferry, and a fast one, if one could trust the pictures that adorned its flanks, On them the ferry was flying over the whiteheaded waves across a sky blurry with birds, clouds and rays of light, It was a white streak across a blue canvas that would make the most celebrated action painter, if ever there were such a thing, envious, As we settled down in the seats I mentioned to my friends that I have been known to get seasick, both as a warning as well as a supplication for comfort.
I was met with a boatload of encouraging remarks, Ted pointed to the sunny sky and said that if the weather would be any calmer it would be mistaken for Earl, Earl pointed to the tiny waves and said that the only thing that could stir up a sea so calm would be Ted's feet after a cup of coffee, Thus it was with an easy mind that I heard the engines start up and we left the safety of the docks,
Not five minutes had passed since we left the island when the sea changed its mind, Even though it was leisurely bathing in the sun only moments before, it now seemed to get itself into quite a state, as if suddenly recalling an important deadline or being roused up by a hysterical pregnant woman during an otherwise peaceful Sunday afternoon.
As the waves got higher and the bumps got rougher, my visage must have gone through fifty shades of green, It had just settled on pistachio green with touches of grey and yellow when Ted and Earl gave me some concerned looks, Ted, who was sitting next to me, seemed mostly concerned for his trousers being in the line of fire in case my disconcerting complexion was but the forerunner of more imposing symptoms, while Earl himself didn't seem to possess the iron stomach he thought he did.
Ted decided to get up on the roof of the ferry and get some fresh air, while Earl settled for a trip to the head, For some reason boats don't have kitchens or toilets but consist of "galleys" and "heads" instead, I have since come to believe these terms find their ancestors in the words "gallows" and "beheadings" and other such references to painful deaths, considering the entire construction makes one consider public executions as a blissful means of escape from that infernal vessel.
To add insult to injury the seafaring folk devised the system of "nautical miles", giving false hope with regards to the distance one needs to traverse before being once again graced with land under one's feet.
I would have gotten up as well and followed my companions outside, if only to throw myself into the sea under a lonely cry of despair, had not the adage of "you are what you eat" proved itself to be true as my legs slowly turned into the limp noodles I had eaten only moments before.
A voice on the intercom informed the passengers of a typhoon
that had been raging many miles away, a natural disaster of which we were now feeling the comparably tiny side effects.
I had heard of the effect a small flutter of a butterfly's wings could have over great distances, so it came as no surprise that a typhoon should bring about catastrophic consequences on my feeble constitution.
In response to the storm that had raged over fisherman's villages and quaint coastlines far away, ruining shelters and holidays alike, my stomach churned in empathy and cried for a prompt evacuation of its own residents.
I've always thought of myself as a kind man with a good heart, but it appears that my stomach is my most sympathetic organ, It made me wonder if all that connected the wise and noble prophets of our great religions was that they all had a weak stomach in the face of misery, rather than a heart of gold.
One of the seamen with a keen eye for discoloured faces had offered me a black, plastic bag that reeked of chemicals, Before I could even consider the idea of wrapping it over my head and letting the lack of oxygen put me out of my wretchedness, I had filled it up with my lunch, sadly noting that it had lost none of its spicy spunk before its return voyage.
The fire was back and with a vengeance, as this time it seemed to have found the way through my nose as well, I cried silent and bitter sobs, my eyes red with burning tears, my cheeks grey, my forehead yellow and my chin dripping with green drops hovering over a black bag.
I fancy I must have looked like my portrait if I had chosen to commission it to Pablo Picasso,
In the meanwhile Earl had ventured outside and apparently had had the same idea to simply jump into the sea and hope that Heaven was a real place.
He had lost his nerve at the last moment and held to the railing while being splashed by the cold water and attacked by an evil wind, Trembling, he welcomed this agony as it made him forget the reality of Hell that was his own body, His belly seemed to host the devil himself and all his minions, intent on entering this world posthaste, During the first convulsions Earl somehow still had the clarity of mind and the good fortune to find a vacant toilet bowl and lay next to it as long as necessary.
He locked himself in and didn't mind the outrage of all the people, equally sick, rapping on the door, If this torment would last much longer he would offer himself up as a sacrifice to the murderous mass and do it all with a contented smile,
On the upper deck Ted was feeling a bit queasy, He resolved to look at the horizon and fell asleep shortly after,
I was working on filling up my fifth bag and had already gone over all possible solutions, Jumping off the boat was no longer an option and I could find no way to the Gates of Heaven with the limited tools at my disposal, No matter how hard I wished for a gun, the only thing that would be delivered was another plastic bag, Even though the evacuation of my stomach had been a resounding success, with not a single entity still present in that godforsaken place, the safety mechanisms seemed to prefer to make absolutely certain no noodle would be left behind.
I think I have left my very soul in that last bag, Given the absence, thanks to lazy scientists all over the world, of immediate teleportation, my only hope was a helicopter, swooping down from the sky like an angel and taking me to golden shores.
Who would have thought that such a ludicrous contraption would be the main flicker of hope during my darkest times It looks like a curiously constructed metallic fish with a sad flower on its head, whirring through the skies in search of a place where it doesn't look ridiculous.
Finding that such a place does not exist, some good souls resolved to paint big white circles with an "H" in the middle to give the mechanical monstrosity at least some semblance of a home.
And yet it was this silly thing that I longed for in my last and most difficult moments on that diabolical boat on an equally satanic sea,
After what according to my estimations must have been twentysix eternities, we finally reached the harbour and were assisted to come to land, Once there it was with surprising ease that I found the will to live again, which was followed up by a healthy appetite and the desire to share my story with my companions.
Earl had easily made his way through the angry mob, for they had helpfully decided to collapse outside of the toilet in a last effort to get the better of the motions of the sea.
We looked into each other's eyes and found therein the understanding that we had been in hell, and survived, Ted merely agreed by saying that he found the trip, on the whole, rather uncomfortable, and that it would probably be best if we took a plane for the return trip.
However aggravating his equanimity, both Earl and I hugged him in a moment of joyous relief and didn't let go until he punched us both in the ear, Oh, we were so happy, happy to live, happy to be on land, happy to note that regardless of everything that ferry had put us through, it did deliver on its promise to take us to Paradise.
.