However, he frequently digresses into humorous anecdotes that range from the unreliability of barometers for weather forecasting to the difficulties encountered when learning to play the Scottish bagpipes.
Jerome Jerome K -
The most frequent topics of J. The book includes classic comedy set pieces, such as the Plaster of Paris trout in chapter 17, and the " Irish stew " in chapter 14 — made by mixing most of the leftovers in the party's food hamper :. I forget the other ingredients, but I know nothing was wasted; and I remember that, towards the end, Montmorency, who had evinced great interest in the proceedings throughout, strolled away with an earnest and thoughtful air, reappearing, a few minutes afterwards, with a dead water-rat in his mouth, which he evidently wished to present as his contribution to the dinner; whether in a sarcastic spirit, or with a genuine desire to assist, I cannot say.
Other memorable sections include chapter 3's narration of the chaos caused by Uncle Podger while hanging a picture as he keeps misplacing and dropping things. He once injured himself and needed a handkerchief that was in the pocket of the coat he had just removed. But he couldn't find it and asked the family members to find it. It was found at last by Uncle Podger as he had been sitting on it. Chapter 4's discussion of "Advantages of cheese as a travelling companion" was also a memorable extract.
One might have imagined … that the British Empire was in danger. The reception by critics varied between lukewarm and hostile. The use of slang was condemned as "vulgar" and the book was derided as written to appeal to "'Arrys and 'Arriets" — then common sneering terms for working-class Londoners who dropped their Hs when speaking.
Punch magazine dubbed Jerome "'Arry K. Yet the book sold in huge numbers. I often think the public must eat them. During that time, , copies were sold. The Russian edition was particularly successful and became a standard school textbook. Jerome later complained in a letter to The Times of Russian books not written by him, published under his name to benefit from his success. It continues to be popular, with The Guardian ranking it No. The river trip is easy to recreate, following the detailed description, and this is sometimes done by fans of the book.
Much of the route remains unchanged.
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For example, all the pubs and inns named are still open. The BBC has broadcast on radio a number of dramatisations of the story, including a musical version in starring Kenneth Horne , Leslie Phillips and Hubert Gregg , a three-episode version in with Jeremy Nicholas playing all of the characters and a two-part adaptation for Classic Serial in with Hugh Dennis , Steve Punt and Julian Rhind-Tutt.
Peter Lovesey 's Victorian detective novel Swing, Swing Together , partly based on the book, featured as the second episode of the television series Cribb Their first expedition was along the Thames from Kingston upon Thames to Oxford, recreating the original novel.
After this, the trio embarked on a trip from London to the Isle of Wight in Jones's yacht where they would race her against her sister yacht. The following year, Three Men in More Than One Boat saw the three borrowing, stealing, and hitchhiking on numerous vessels to make their way from Plymouth to the Isles of Scilly. For their adventure, the trio take to the waterways of Ireland, making their way from Dublin to Limerick with Dara's greyhound Snip Nua , and the first episode of Three Men Go to Scotland was broadcast at the end of The book was adapted by Clive Francis for a production that toured the UK.
A sculpture of a stylised boat was created in to commemorate Three Men in a Boat on the Millennium Green in New Southgate , London, where the author lived as a child. In a mosaic of a dog's head was put onto the same Green to commemorate Montmorency. To take the place of Montmorency, they bring a cat called Tintoretto. Three Men in a Boat is referenced in the parody novel on mountaineering, The Ascent of Rum Doodle , where the head porter Bing is said to spend "much of his leisure immersed in a Yogistani translation of it.
Heinlein , the main character's father is an obsessive fan of the book, and spends much of his spare time repeatedly re-reading it. A re-creation in by poet Kim Taplin and companions resulted in the travelogue Three Women in a Boat. Gita sul Tevere is an Italian humorous book inspired by this famous English novel. Her time-travelling protagonist also takes an ill-fated voyage on the Thames with two humans and a dog as companions, and encounters George, Harris, 'J' and Montmorency. The title of Willis' novel refers to the full title of the original book. Sikes, B. Sikes, and Dover Whitecliff From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
For other uses, see Three Men in a Boat disambiguation. Jerome, My Life and Times Novels portal. A camping skiff is a boat with an easily erected canvas cover. This effectively turns the boat into a floating tent for overnight use. It was a first weekly, then monthly miscellany, mostly fiction by little-known authors. The Bells of Ouseley at Old Windsor still exists, but the building was demolished and rebuilt in It is now part of the Harvester chain.
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 d Okay. Without visiting any doctor, he affirmed that his liver was out of order. How did he know that?
Because he read a patent liver-pill circular, in which were detailed all the symptoms. And that single thing was my first hypochondriacal is that a word? 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. Otherwise, it can be confusing.
At least, it was for me. 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 twenty-six 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? My favorite parts are the funny ones, of course.
Oh my, how I laughed. Jerome, you are a new safe place for me. This is a solid 4. Note: I read this book many months ago I'm trying to catch up with my reviews. View all 46 comments. Shelves: my-reviews , out-of-the-box-reviews. 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 quick 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.
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 razor-sharp 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 post-haste. 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 twenty-six 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.
View all 33 comments. What a quaint little book! I had no idea this existed. But I'm definitely glad I could rectify that now. The story is that of three friends, elderly gentlemen, who decide to journey up the Thames in a little boat together with the dog one of them owns. The preparations for the trip are already very entertaining, but the trip itself is no less so. Apart from them actually travelling for a bit, we are treated to various stops along the way I looked a few places up on a map and was delighted to see What a quaint little book!
Apart from them actually travelling for a bit, we are treated to various stops along the way I looked a few places up on a map and was delighted to see there are indeed so many interesting places along the river. During the voyage as well as the stops, there are some reminiscences, childhood memories as well as later encounters, from all three.
All while they are stumbling about. You might have guessed that not only do they encounter a bit of bad luck, their own helplessness and the fact that they don't actually know what they are doing isn't helping either. The characters the dog definitely being one of them are very quirky. It's basically the story of three old er grumpy men travelling together with a dog, having some mishaps on the way. The way it was told was light and quite modern so the age of the book actually surprises.
Seeing society through the eyes of the three friends and the dog was very funny and the light way the story is told in that is nonetheless full of dry humour makes it clear why this book was an instant success back when it was first published. Once again, I've chosen the audioversion and am glad for it because although I do not have the version narrated by Hugh Laurie, it was wonderful to have this story brought to life with the proper British accent.
View all 55 comments. Apr 25, Peter rated it it was amazing. What a brilliant book! If you are looking to the perfect follow up to The Pickwick Papers this is your genre. See what J the narrator , George the man with the orange red blazer , Harris and not to be forgotten Montmorency the dog experience on their picnic, camping and boat trip on the River Thames through the English countryside.
If you know some places of the area described like me you see every step in full detail before your mental eye. Those episodes are so funny that you have a broa What a brilliant book! Those episodes are so funny that you have a broad grin upon your face in every chapter: The episode with the cheese, the anglers' lore with the trout, the failed opening of the can, bad weather and so on there are also some fine illustrations in the edition I read.
Every mishap possible seems to occur to our Pickwickian heroes here. Splendid humour. Or the episode when they came back to London Absolutely recommended! View all 19 comments. Feb 03, Duane rated it really liked it Shelves: guardian , book-challenge , rated-books , reviewed-books , english-calssics. It's a book of comical anecdotes strung together to compile the history of a 2 week vacation of 3 men who rent a boat and go rowing on the Thames.
Oh, and their dog, Montmorency, goes along. It is one comic episode after another and so ridiculous that it could be titled 3 stooges in a boat and I wouldn't bat an eye. I did enjoy it and it was quite successful in it's day.
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I give it 3. View all 3 comments. Jun 21, mark monday rated it it was ok Shelves: masterpiece-theatre , these-fragile-lives , i-gave-up. Albert tells many uproarious anecdotes. Albert knows how to TALK. Jerome, were you getting paid by the word? Jerome seems like a charming, sweet-natured man, but he is not my friend and i refuse to continue to provide empathetic active listening to a nice guy who is also, at times, such a bore. Jerome - sad to say - you're no Albert.
View all 31 comments. Oct 12, Beata rated it it was amazing. One of my ever favourite novels! Unalloyed pleasure to sink into truly English sense of humour! And Montmorency became my idea of a dog! View all 11 comments. Nov 27, carol. Shelves: my-library-kindle , lit-fiction , classic , humor , male-lead. I love To Say Nothing of the Dog.
Love it enough, in fact, to write a ridiculous review comparing it to a Beethoven symphony my review. Jonathan Strange. Three Men seemed perfect for the kind of read I was looking for, and it turned out to be true. Narrated by Jerome, the details of the trip are frequently interrupted with humorous asides, commentary on the sights of the Thames and musing on historical sites they are passing.
Characterization is about all that holds it together— detail on historical events near the Thames, is frankly, rather yawners, as I am indifferent student of historical events signing of the Magna what? And yet Three Men in a Boat amused me. I knew it was my liver that was out of order, because I had just been reading a patent liver-pill circular, in which were detailed the various symptoms by which a man could tell when his liver was out of order. I had them all. It is a most extraordinary thing, but I never read a patent medical advertisement without being impelled to the conclusion that I am suffering from the particular disease therein dealt with in its most virulent form.
The three men bear a strong resemblance to people we all know; in fact, I was rather reminded of Jerry, George and Kramer, whose own self-absorbed behavior provided so many laughs. I want to get up and superintend, and walk round with my hands in my pockets, and tell him what to do. It is my energetic nature.
Montmorency had invited two other dogs to come and see him off, and they were whiling away the time by fighting on the doorstep. We calmed them with an umbrella, and sat down to chops and cold beef. The we sit and sob, and long for the gas-lit streets, and the sound of human voices, and the answering throb of human life. We feel so helpless and so little in the great stillness, when the dark trees rustle in the night-wind. Read in small doses before bedtime, it perhaps started to feel a little like the three men experiencing the Thames: interesting, humorous, thoughtful, and perhaps just a day or two too long.
Hopefully, the above quotes give enough of a flavor to see if it will appeal. View all 28 comments. Jun 23, Jan-Maat added it Shelves: novel , 19th-century , humour , british-isles. 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.
Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome
An The story starts off with a man feeling out of sorts with his London life and leafing through a medical dictionary. 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 view spoiler [ I hasten to add to reassure those who are not keen on either hide spoiler ] 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. View all 22 comments. Mar 31, Bradley rated it really liked it Shelves: shelf , humor , traditional-fiction. I originally read this because I'm a big fan of Connie Willis and she went on and on about it, but when I actually read it, I was charmed for its own sake. Fish stories, laziness, incompetence, dishonesty, pathos and great verve stud these pages. It's an adventure for the ages! Of course, it's just three men in a boat, to say nothing of the dog. Set in Victorian England, it captures the overblown hypochondriac feel of the age.
View all 6 comments. Dec 29, Laura rated it it was amazing Shelves: great-outdoors , funny , victorian , footnotes-and-diagrams. Utterly delightful from beginning to end; had me in stitches more than once. I loved the digressions, the endless tales about friends and friends-of-friends; the charming diagrams; the sudden swoops into romantic and Romantic flights of fancy. In my mind, all three characters spoke like Hugh Laurie as Bertie Wooster with similar sensibility; that is to say, none at all. I can't reproduce it all here, but one of my favorite scenes was that in which the narrator describes his loathing for stea Utterly delightful from beginning to end; had me in stitches more than once.
I can't reproduce it all here, but one of my favorite scenes was that in which the narrator describes his loathing for steam launches -- hilarious! I am now going to go back and re-read that scene in To Say Nothing of the Dog in which they run into the hapless boaters.
Folded corners And Aunt Maria would say that she would not allow the children to stand round and hear such language. They started by breaking a cup. That was the first thing they did. They did that just to show you what they could do, and to get you interested. Montmorency was in it all, of course. Montmorency's ambition in life, is to get in the way and be sworn at. If he can squirm in anywhere where he particularly is not wanted, and be a perfect nuisance, and make people mad, and have things thrown at his head, then he feels his day has not been wasted.
She was nuts on public houses, was England's Virgin Queen. There's scarcely a pub of any attractions within ten miles of London that she does not seem to have looked in at, or stopped at, or slept at, some time or another. We said we hadn't given the matter sufficient consideration as yet to enable us to arrive at a definite conclusion on that point, but that, if he assured us on his word as a gentleman that we were trespassing, we would, without further hesitation, believe it.
You get near the kettle, so that it can overhear you, and then you shout out, "I don't want any tea; do you, George? When I meet a cat, I say, "Poor Pussy! When Montmorency meets a cat, the whole street knows about it; and there is enough bad language wasted in ten seconds to last an ordinary respectable man all his life, with care.
Goring is not nearly so pretty a little spot to stop This isn't really about three men in a boat, it is about Jerome being funny. View all 12 comments. Feb 20, Apatt rated it it was ok Shelves: classics. It looked like a breezy read, a good-natured gently comical novel. Certainly it is not at all hard to read but nevertheless, this book was a grind for me to get through.
Humorous novels suffer a great disadvantage in that I tend to expect to find something to laugh at on each every page. This is quite a tall order and very hard for most books to accomplish. Wodehouse, Oscar Wilde, Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett often make me laugh with their fiction but generally I try to avoid comedy no It looked like a breezy read, a good-natured gently comical novel. Wodehouse, Oscar Wilde, Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett often make me laugh with their fiction but generally I try to avoid comedy novels.
I prefer humour to be a facet of the novel rather than the focus. Novels which are based on plots, thrills and characterization, including serious novels often make me laugh when the author slip in humorous scenes or dialogue at unexpected moments. This help to balance the overall tone of the book for me. Dickens is often funny somewhere in his long novels, even Victor Hugo's Les Mis has funny bits. With Three Men in a Boat I am surprised to find that the humour totally fell flat for me.
I find the humour in this book is very tame, very polite and centered on the silliness of the protagonists, particularly the narrator. The style of narration is also rather whimsical, going off on tangents with little supposedly comical vignettes every few paragraphs. Unfortunately, I did not find any of it funny. The characters are indeed suitably silly but there is no depth to them, they are all self-absorbed and I could not work up any interest in their antics.
Tomfooleries like getting up late, waiting for a defiant kettle to boil, drinking horrible tea and whatnot leave me cold. The entire enterprise seems completely pointless from beginning to end, and not a single chuckle escaped me. OK, it is a beloved classic which has been in print for more than a century so I have to respect it for that. If you find it funny I respect that too, but humour is very subjective and I subjected myself to this. Ah well, what you gonna do? View all 4 comments. View all 18 comments. Sep 20, Sarah rated it really liked it Shelves: classics-bingo Three young men from London in the late 19th century all of them hypochondriacs decide to take a two week trip "up the river".
They bring with them the one man's dog and only the various things they will need. Or so they claim. The long passage about packing would indicate otherwise. What follows is a funny story in which a great many things go wrong, many other stories are told, and the dog proves to be the smartest of the bunch. The anecdotes the men share, always something that happened to a Three young men from London in the late 19th century all of them hypochondriacs decide to take a two week trip "up the river".
The anecdotes the men share, always something that happened to a friend or a friend of a friend, are funny. The antics of the three men themselves can be downright hilarious. If you like the classics and are looking for a quick, amusing read then I would highly recommend this book. Dec 30, Paul Bryant rated it liked it Shelves: novels. It is not worth it. It is rumoured in the town that once, many years ago, a boy appeared who really never had done these things—or at all events, which was all t English humour In the church is a memorial to Mrs.
It is rumoured in the town that once, many years ago, a boy appeared who really never had done these things—or at all events, which was all that was required or could be expected, had never been known to do them—and thus won the crown of glory. He was exhibited for three weeks afterwards in the Town Hall, under a glass case. So, three men and a dog bumble around on the River Thames for a fortnight. Quite often the book becomes an actual travel guide : Round Clifton Hampden, itself a wonderfully pretty village, old-fashioned, peaceful, and dainty with flowers, the river scenery is rich and beautiful.
It stands on the right of the bridge, quite away from the village. And then he switches back into the whimsical and jovial as if nothing has happened.