Three Men in a Boat

1) J's hypochondria when reading medical textbooks. Every disease he reads about, he ends of thinking he has. Eventually, he presents himself to the family doctor, ready to avail his amazing medical history (i.e. "the man who has everything") to serious medical study. In today's era of pharmaceutical advertising, it's easy to imagine how poor J would fare.

"Ask you doctor is Placebozil is right for you, if you have one of the following:
-occasional irritation or frustration with minor matters
-aversion to prolonged loud sounds
-feelings of intense hunger after a mere 24 hour fast
-occasionally feeling fatigued or "down".... &c.

2)The story of J's uncle, who requires a mere six hours and nine assistants to accomplish the hanging of a framed picture in his Aunt's living room. The task involves severe collateral damage to the drywall, but all involved agree this was unavoidable.

3) J's observations about how many pubs, inns, and churches claim to have had Queen Victoria pass through on one of her many visits to the countryside, and his speculation about what the landscape would look like if his friend Harris were somehow able to attain the office of Prime Minister!

4) The anecdote about the mounted trout proudly displayed at the country inn. Every local who J and friends meet claims to have caught the trout, and tells them a different story about how it all happened. I won't even spoil the end of that story with a spoiler!

5) J's alternate views of powercraft drivers, when he is in a sailboat- and his view of sailors when he is aboard a steamship.

6) The odd case of Harris and the swans.

(#363)(about the speed of his boat):
"...we started off at a shamble what would have done credit to the swiftest steam-roller ever built."
or
(#527)(of an inaccurate barometer indicating "Sunny" weather during a downpour):
"...It tried its best, but the instrument was build so that it couldn't prophesy fine weather any harder than it did without breaking itself."
or
(#762)(of a tunic George bought):
"...George put it on, and asked us what we thought of it. Harris said that, as an object to hang over a flower-bed in early spring to frighten the birds away, he should respect it; considered as an article of dress for any human being [however], it made him ill."

"We fall asleep beneath the great, still stars, 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 new-made 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 artificialtiy had made us ashamed of the simple life we led with her, and the simple, stately home where mankind was born so many thousand years ago."

...down he would slide on to the piano, a really fine musical effect being produced by the suddenness with which his head and body struck all the notes at the same time.
And Aunt Maria would say that she would not allow the children to stand round and hear such language.

The remaining four passengers sat on for a while, until a solemn-looking man in the corner, who, from his dress and general appearance, seemed to belong to the undertaker class, said {the smell of the cheese} put him in mind of a dead baby; and the other three passengers tried to get out of the door at the same time, and hurt themselves.

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.

...a gentleman in shirt sleeves and a short pipe came along, and wanted to know if we knew that we were trespassing. 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?" to which George shouts back, "Oh, no, I don't like tea; we'll have lemonade instead--tea's so indigestible." Upon which the kettle boils over, and puts the stove out.

When I meet a cat, I say, "Poor Pussy!" and stoop down and tickle the side of its head; and the cat sticks up its tail in a rigid, cast-iron manner, arches its back, and wipes its nose up against my trousers; and all is gentleness and peace. 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... but it is passing fair enough in its way, and is nearer the railway in case you want to slip off without paying your bill.

For some reason I'd always thought this was an American book and when Darren recommended it to me (by way of putting it in my Christmas stocking, always a good way to recommend books!) I was surprised to find that the boat in question, and the three men in it, are on a voyage up the Thames to Oxford.

For a book that was written 113 years ago in 1889 it's stunningly readable today and it's definitely well worth a read. Short episodic chapters mean that it's the kind of book that you can keep pic

For some reason I'd always thought this was an American book and when Darren recommended it to me (by way of putting it in my Christmas stocking, always a good way to recommend books!) I was surprised to find that the boat in question, and the three men in it, are on a voyage up the Thames to Oxford.

For a book that was written 113 years ago in 1889 it's stunningly readable today and it's definitely well worth a read. Short episodic chapters mean that it's the kind of book that you can keep picking up and putting down without worrying about losing track of the plot (as there isn't really very much of a plot). There's also only 185 pages so even if you're right out of reading energy (like me over the last couple of weeks) this book won't tie you up for very long.

My favourite part concerned thoughts on what will become valued antiques in the future where, among other things, Jerome was right on the money with an observation that Victorian schoolgirl's sewing samplers will become treasured and priceless embroideries in years to come.

I have it on good authority that the sequel Three Men on the Bummel isn't nearly as good so I'll probably leave my aquaintanceship with Jerome K. Jerome here, but I'm glad I read this lively book.