First published in 1975, Laurence Sterne is biography of Sterne’s life which emphasizes those experiences which informed Sterne’s fiction. The book is based on an exhaustive search for original documents, and a study of the social, political, and ecclesiastical institutions which shaped Sterne’s world. We see the novelist as a soldier’s child, student, struggling young cleric, Yorkshire famer, and judge of the spiritual courts, and we trace his literary development from political hack to humourist. The story begins – like Tristram’s – with the subject’s conception and ends with the publication of Volumes I and II of Tristram Shandy . This book will be of interest to students of literature, literary history as well as to any casual reader of Sterne’s novels.
How could I resist a book about "a naughty priest"? I can't quite remember where I read that, but because Tristram Shandy seemed so unreadable at the time I tried (I'm rather busy, and this book is a major commitment!), I'd at least start with this two-volume literary biography of Sterne.
There's waaaaay too much detail about politics and minor figures (well, they may not have all seemed minor to Sterne, but there's tons of detail about people that I felt I could have skipped -- and did skim occasionally); sometimes it did seem to be for the purpose of making Tristram Shandy more understandable, but there was just too much of it, and unless I was writing some sort of dissertation, I'm pretty sure I could never remember the vast amount of detail Cash presents us with. On the other hand, I suppose that's sort of his job, but although there much of this book was excellent, there were also far too many tedious, miniscule-detail-laden sections. I did get some good quotations, though! So here they are, the first one quotations embedded in my own commentary, the rest just plain old quotations:
[Curriculum Used by 18th-Century Tutors:] In recommending reading, his tutors followed Daniel Waterland’s Advice to a Young Student, first published 1706, but reprinted 1730 and 1740. In Tristram Shandy Sterne labeled Yorick’s philosophical learning, ‘Waterlandish knowledge’ (VI, xi, 427). Waterland, a celebrated moralist and theologian, was a tutor at Magdalene College. After opening with such maxims as ‘Avoid idleness, otherwise called lounging’, he gets down to study methods: spend mornings and evenings on philosophy and afternoons on classics, ‘as requiring less coolness’. Divinity, as one might expect, is a study for Sunday and holidays. To prepare oneself in classics, he recommends Terence, Virgil and Cicero to be read ‘over and over again as models’, especially Cicero, a model for the orations the student must perform as part of his examinations. Greek classics are also on his lists – Xenophon, Sophocles, Thucydides, Aristotle, but especially Plato. In the philosophy of law, it is Puffendorf and Grotius; in morality, Malebranche and Stillingfleet. In fact, many modern writers are recommended by Waterland – Descartes, Whiston, Boyle, Samuel Clarke; and he repeatedly mentions the importance of Locke and Newton. In short, Waterland’s recommendations cover most of the authors whom any self-respecting gentleman would have wanted to read. Sterne borrowed in his sermons from several divines on Waterland’s list, in fact, from Waterland himself; and he referred in Tristram Shandy to some of the philosophers. He may have read them first at Cambridge. Other writers who influenced him profoundly – Shakespeare, Cervantes, Rabelais, Swift, Pope – were ignored by the tutors. These were the popular authors, read for delight. No one thought to lecture on them. 51
[The “worldly church” the young students would be entering:] It is not unrealistic to suggest that future dignitaries of the church might take part in such rowdy parties [“‘midst hogsheads of Liquor and quantities of Tobacco, surrounded by 30 of these creatures, infinitely below the meanest People you could even form an Idea off; toasting bawdy healths & deafned with their unmeaning Roar”]. It was a very worldly church these men would enter. 59
[Sterne’s refusal to compartmentalize thought:] What to succeeding generations sometimes has looked like a split in Sterne’s personality between sentimentality and bawdy was probably no more than a refusal to compartmentalize his manners in this way. Sterne, unlike his associates at York, was willing to play up for comic effect the contrast between the manner of the priest and that of the jester. . . . Puerile comedy, however, plays only a small part in Sterne’s letters and novels. The dominant note, as modern critics are well aware, is a gaiety touched by melancholy – a humour verging upon tragedy. 60.
In writing [a passage about death knocking at his door] Sterne was probably recalling his first discovery, at Cambridge, of the disease which would eventually take his life – call it tisick, consumption, or (in modern terms) pulmonary tuberculosis. . . . duty, gaiety, mortality: Cambridge prepared Sterne to become a humorist. 61
The question of whether or not he was sincerely religious is hardly worth raising. Almost everyone of that time was. The clergy who attacked atheists from the pulpit had seldom met one. Sterne met an atheist once – or rather, a man whom everyone assumed to be an atheist – David Hume, and promptly engaged him in a public debate about miracles. Rather thoughtless aspersions have been cast upon Sterne’s religious convictions, but not by anyone who has looked into his sermons. The question of whether his moral character qualified him for the priest hood is considerably more interesting. . . . It probably was a mistake to take up parochial duties, which confined him to a life too narrow for his restless, gay spirit. 62
Chapter 4: Politics 1741-1742
[Shockingly worldly aspects of the 18th-century Anglican church:] After a brief period in Nottinghamshire serving as curate to his brother-in-law, George Fairfax, Jaques withdrew temporarily from the church. He came to York, where he courted and won a wealthy widow sixteen years older than he. . . . A rabid Whig, Jaques soon became chaplain and political henchman to the archbishop whom the Whigs had recently placed at York, Lancelot Blackburn. In 1729, two years after a bitter county election campaign, he received the additional livings of Hornsey and Hornsey-cum-Riston, as well as the prebend of Apethorpe at the minster (exchanged in 1731 for that of Ullskelf). He was a leader in the last-ditch political battle of 1734, for which he received unusual rewards – an additional prebend at Southwell Cathedral, the archdeaconry of Cleveland, and the precentorship of York (a preferment which required him to exchange his prebend for that of Driffield). 88
[Sterne well-read, interested in many topics:] In short, Sterne was something more than a Swiftian ‘ancient’, ranging over the vast meadows of literature gathering sweetness and light. One side of him was distinctly ‘modern’ and scholarly. He probably kept notes on his reading. He could concentrate upon particular topics and was quite willing to do whatever work was required to understand them. He had a high respect for historical and scientific fact and felt the obligation to state facts accurately, whatever use he made of them. 205. [my kind of guy!]
[. . . and he wrote his sermons at home! Now I don't feel so guilty!] When Sterne did compose sermons on paper, he worked at home, not in the library of the dean and chapter, as he might have done. His servant, Greenwood, retained a picture of his master at this task: “In person tall & thin – when composing would often pull down his wig over one eye, & remove it from side to side. “ John Croft said that Elizabeth sometimes helped him to write his sermons. It would seem that Sterne owned a small library of theology, ethics and sermons, probably collected by some older clergyman. In any event, the traceable sources he used were all in print before 1733, with the exception of Swift’s sermons, published in 1744, presumably one of the few books Sterne added to this collection. 217
[On Plagiarism:] For his plagiarisms, Sterne was roasted by critics, but not until he was long dead. One suspects that they were more incensed by his general reputation than by the plagiarisms themselves. From the Elizabethan age onwards, plagiarism in sermons had been condoned by the church and even encouraged. Still, the question is difficult since attitudes were shifting in the middle and late years of the eighteenth century. Benjamin Franklin’s friends were disgusted to discover that a preacher had borrowed a passage from Dr. James Foster, while Franklin himself ‘rather approved his giving us good sermons compos’d by others, than bad ones of his own manufacture.”. [Quoted by HAMMOND, 78; see also I-16, 74-89. 218