This is a truly funny book. However, I must admit that I only managed to understand about one-sixth of it.

A Tale of a Tub is a remarkable work that serves as a highly contextual satire of religion in England. The text is extremely dense and often inaccessible, leaving me in a state of confusion as to whether I actually learned anything from it.

Nevertheless, the few funny bits that I did manage to grasp were indeed of great quality. They provided moments of levity and amusement in what was otherwise a challenging read.

I'm not entirely sure why this particular book is included as part of the Penguin Great Ideas series. In fact, I've had the same question about a couple of their other titles. It makes me wonder if there are other factors at play that I'm not aware of.

Overall, while A Tale of a Tub had its moments of humor, its density and inaccessibility made it a less than ideal reading experience for me.

This Cambridge edition, which is edited by Marcus Walsh, stands as the critical edition of A Tale of the Tub that is highly recommended by Steven Moore. The Cambridge edition of Swift’s work consists of 18 volumes. Moore delves into The Tub in The Novel: An Alternative History, 1600-1800, specifically on pages 634-642. It is被誉为 “The most inventive, profound, and mindblowing novel of this time.”

In line with my Moore-lists of generation, we have the predecessors of The Tub, such as Petronius, Rabelais, Cervantes, and Dunton (with Voyage round the World).

Following in the footsteps of The Tub are works like Thomas D’Urfe’s Essay Towards the Theory of the Intelligible World, Bordelon’s Monsieur Oufle, Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, Carlyle’s Sartor Resartus, Melville’s Moby-Dick, Nabokov’s Pale Fire, Sorrentino’s Mulligan Stew, and any number of formally inventive novels published over the last 75 years. We also have Finnegans Wake by Joyce, where “clearly the description of Shem the Penman (182-85) is modeled on the idea of Swift’s ink-stained narrator in his garret spinning out the digression on madness.” Beckett’s Watt and Barth’s Lost in the Funhouse are also part of this. The Tale is “The locus classicus of the novel of learned wit” [let’s add Darconville’s Cat here]. It is a metafiction and a critifiction [let’s add Raymond Federman at this point].

Funny, instructive, and stylistically commanding: this Augustan had good reason to show his mettle.

It truly puzzles me, in a rather good way, as to where and how his fellow champions of sound sense, detractors of shallow learning, managed to draw the lines. Between scholarship and pedantry, self-reflection and egocentrism, integrity and pride, frailty and meanness, universality and populism - and at bottom, true wit and false wit.

For one thing, they disavow some of their own concepts or tactics. Furthermore, I think they notice the actual proximity between opposite terms.

What occurs with antithetical or heterogeneous categories in the Augustan frame of mind (assuming that even exists/ed for documentation), if a work like A Tale of a Tub performs the motions it would seem to denounce?

That’s called satire, one might reasonably contend. Sure, but that fails to entirely account for some of Swift’s decisions here.

The Tale is a satire of religion by half, with its other portion being an intermittent critique of contemporaneous publication and knowledge production, and so plausibly a commentary on the text itself (or just that other half of it).

In “Mechanical Operations,” Swift could have ventured something preposterous for “the whole scheme of spiritual mechanism” - he certainly proved his pluck in the oratorical machines segment of the Tale - “but it was thought neither safe nor convenient to print it” - which I realize is the punchline of the piece, and it’s great, but it’s like satire with a vengeance given that Swift had alternatives.

And why is allegory, for that matter, so apparently suited to Swiftian satire, from the exquisite “Battle of the Books” to Gulliver’s Travels? Is there a reason for this, maybe related to the nature of the symbolic relationship posited under the allegorical mode? These remain open questions for now.

The Tub itself: a challenging 5*

Battle of the Books: 3*

Mechanical OPeration of The Spirits: 2*

Appendices: Negative 666*

Four Months Earlier:

Pausing at halfway through the book, but (at the risk of giving all of my selves about three heart attacks apiece) I somehow finished the Tub proper. It is only 103pp, yet it manages to make Tristram Shandy seem like Raymond Carver-style minimalism by comparison.

\\n  

I have one word to say upon the subject of profound writers, who are grown very numerous of late; and I know very well the judicious world is resolved to list me in that number. I conceive therefore, as to the business of being profound, that it is with writers as with wells – a person with good eyes may see to the bottom of the deepest, provided any water be there: and often when there is nothing in the world at the bottom besides dryness and dirt, though it be but a yard and a-half under-ground, it shall pass, however, for wondrous deep, upon no wiser a reason than because it is wondrous dark.

I am now trying an experiment very frequent among modern authors, which is to write upon nothing...

\\n

Yikes, the experience of holding my breath whilst underwater during my overlong bath in this Tub nearly did me in! It is a work of monstrous genius, ostensibly about religion but really about very little. To avoid being trapped in these deep underwater caverns measureless to man, one has to be prepared to risk the bends by repeatedly going back to the surface and thence to the Endnotes after catching one's breath. The allusions are poured on relentlessly, amounting to a case of what I'm sure is reader's rights violating water-board/bored-ing.

In short, this five-fathoms-deep watery tomb/tome is something greatly to admire, but enjoy? The GR 5* enjoyment-meter does not even remotely apply. \\n  Too much laughing leads to crying, sonny-boy\\n, as my Scots Presbyterian great-grandmother is as likely to have said with as much veracity as anything Swift's crazy narrator utters within the confines of these damp, damnèd pages.

So: I'm gonna open the drain here and enter the comparatively convivial hot tub time machine of Gulliver's Travels for a spell before returning to finish these spiritual ablutions with Battle of the Books and The Mechanical Operation of the Spirits.

To Be Continued...

Gulliver's Travels is often regarded as Swift's second-best work, following Battle of the Books and A Tale of a Tub. These works are remarkable for their brilliance and erudition. Swift, along with Defoe and Fielding, played a significant role in inventing the novel. A Tale of a Tub contains a series of parodies that Swift himself introduced. His satire was misconstrued, especially by the Queen, which hindered his advancement in the church.

Swift's parodies are both astute and amusing. He mentions critics like Rymer and Dennis, as well as Dryden's translation of Vergil. His description of Lord Peter (Catholicism) is particularly scathing. In the ceremonious conclusion to A Tale of a Tub, he reflects on the current relish of courteous readers, comparing them to a fly that moves from a honey-pot to excrement.

Battle of the Books casts aspersions on Criticism and features a battle between the Ancients and Moderns. It also includes a grand passage on the Spider and the Bee, derived from Aesop. Swift's elegy on himself, "Verses on the Death of Dr Swift," is witty and self-assessing. He laments his envy of Pope's wit and reflects on the reactions of his female friends to his death.

"On Poetry: A Rhapsody" records Swift's views against Dryden's Prefaces, Rhymer, Dennis, and weak poets. He questions the ability to purchase fame by writing poorly and remarks on the infinite depth and height in poetry, with the height being known and the depth being infinite below.

Swift slays me.

And not in a good way most of the time.

Unless he's talking about vapours - that's good stuff.

This work is wonderfully post-modern-ish, though obviously from the 18th century.

It's also quite digressive.

If that's what you're into, great.

But I'm not today, sadly.

Swift's writing style can be quite complex and challenging.

His use of satire and irony often requires careful reading and analysis.

Sometimes, it can be difficult to understand his true intentions.

However, when he hits the mark, it can be truly brilliant.

The idea of "vapours" is an interesting one.

It seems to refer to a state of mind or a feeling that is intangible and hard to define.

Perhaps Swift is using it as a metaphor for something deeper.

Overall, while I may not always appreciate Swift's writing, I can't deny its significance and influence.

I think I dropped out of the class halfway through this book.

I have a great appreciation for Swift. His works are known for their unique style and profound insights. However, for some reason, this particular book didn't quite click with me.

Maybe it was the complexity of the language or the density of the ideas. I found myself struggling to keep up and losing interest as I progressed.

While I respect Swift's talent and contributions to literature, I just hope I never have to read another book by him. It's not that I don't like his writing; it's more that this particular experience wasn't a positive one for me.

I'll continue to explore other works and authors, hoping to find something that speaks to me more deeply and engages my imagination.

Swift was indeed a religious (and ethnic) bigot. His views and biases were quite evident in his works. However, despite this unfortunate aspect of his character, his book holds significant value. It provides a detailed and revealing look into the religious and political conflicts that raged during the eighteenth century in both Ireland and Great Britain. Through his writing, we can gain a better understanding of the complex social and historical context of that time period. The book serves as a valuable source of information for scholars and historians alike, helping them to piece together the events and ideas that shaped the nations. Although Swift's bigotry cannot be ignored, his work also offers important insights that contribute to our knowledge and understanding of the past.

The cute religious allegory is nothing but a red herring.

It diverts our attention from the real essence, which lies in the ingenious meta sections. However, these sections now mostly come across as complete nonsense.

There is just too much Grub Street insider crap that might be of interest only to a particular clique.

His friends, who are perhaps more familiar with this insider stuff, probably liked it a great deal more than the average reader will.

For God’s sake, what this work really needs is more detailed and better notes.

These notes could help clarify the confusing meta sections and make the overall reading experience more enjoyable and understandable.

Without them, the work risks losing its potential audience due to its current inaccessibility.

Hopefully, the author will take this criticism to heart and make the necessary improvements.

While reading Swift's work, I did come across several parts that I found rather amusing. He skillfully poked fun at the foibles of both the Catholic Church and Protestant Churches of his era. However, a significant portion of it was highly context-dependent and extremely hard to decipher. Even when referring to the footnotes, I still find that in today's age, no one seems to fully understand the true meaning behind many of his satirical comments. I can only imagine that this work was uproariously hilarious during his time. But unfortunately, due to the vast distance in time and context, it is just too far removed for me to truly enjoy it to the fullest extent. It's a pity that such a potentially great piece of satire has lost some of its impact over the years.

I particularly enjoyed the Battle of the Books.

It was a captivating literary encounter that truly engaged my imagination. The different perspectives and arguments presented in this battle added a layer of depth and excitement to the reading experience.

However, when it came to A Tale of a Tub, I found the digressions to be beyond my understanding. They seemed to take the story in directions that were difficult for me to follow.

Nevertheless, despite these digressions, the tale itself was wonderful. It had a charm and a unique narrative that kept me interested from beginning to end.

The characters and their adventures were vividly described, and I was able to picture the scenes in my mind as I read.

Overall, while the digressions in A Tale of a Tub presented a challenge, the Battle of the Books and the core of the tale in A Tale of a Tub made for a truly enjoyable and memorable reading experience.

Another Satire

Satire is a powerful literary tool that has been used throughout history to expose and criticize the vices and follies of society. It can take many forms, from humorous and light-hearted to biting and caustic. Another satire might focus on a particular aspect of modern life, such as politics, social media, or consumerism. It could use exaggerated characters and situations to make its point, or it might employ irony and sarcasm to undermine the status quo. Through satire, writers can challenge our assumptions and make us think more deeply about the world around us. Whether we love it or hate it, satire has the ability to spark conversations and inspire change. So the next time you come across a piece of satire, take a moment to appreciate its artistry and consider the message it is trying to convey.