Ever since I read Emerson I have been interested in reading Thomas Carlyle’s “novel” Sartor Resartus because Emerson loved it, got it published in the United States, and it influenced New England Transcendentalism. If it weren’t for the Scottish Challenge sponsored by Wuthering Expectations, I don’t when I would ever have read the book or, when I did, that I would have finished it. It is a crazy book; a philosophical treatise in the guise of satirical fiction. Here is Carlyle’s description of the book from a letter to Fraser, his publisher. Carlyle had tried to get Fraser to publish it before but was refused, and now he is trying again:
It is put together in the fashion of a Didactic Novel; but indeed properly like nothing extant. I used to characterize it briefly as a kind of “Satirical Extravaganza on Things in General”; it contains more of my opinions on Art, Politics, Religion, Heaven Earth and Air, than all the things I have yet written.
[...]
My own conjecture is that Teufelsdröckh, whenever published, will astonish most that read it, be wholly understood by very few; but to the astonishment of some will add touches of (almost the deepest) spiritual interest, with others quite the opposite feeling.
I can’t say that Carlyle’s letter does much to recommend the book, but nonetheless, Fraser published it in installments from 1833 – 1834. It did not meet with immediate success.
The title of the book means the tailor retailored which will make a little sense in a minute. The premise of the book is an unnamed British editor presenting one Diogenes Teufelsdröckh, a German Professor of Things in General, and his philosophy of clothes. Teufelsdröckh, by the way, translates as “devil’s excrement” and he is from the town of Weissnichtwo, or “Know-not-where.” The clothes in the philosophy of clothes, are, of course, actual clothes and what they say about a person as well as a metaphor of the ideas and thoughts, manners and actions we clothe ourselves in.
The unnamed editor translates the philosophy of clothes,
endeavour[ing], from the enormous, amorphous Plumpudding, more like a Scottish Haggis, which Herr Teufelsdröckh had kneaded for his fellow mortals, to pick out the choicest Plums, and present them separately on a cover of our own.
We are also given a pieced together biography of Teufelsdröckh which pretty much amounts to a spiritual journey from the Everlasting No to the Everlasting Yea with some stops in between. When Teufelsdröckh gets hot under the collar about cant, the corruption of modern life and Utilitarianism he sounds just like Carlyle when he’d get going on a rant in letters to Emerson.
Carlyle, and later Emerson, are both heavily influenced by Goethe. Sartor has numerous references to Goethe’s works, especially The Sorrows of Young Wether. The only Goethe I have had the pleasure of reading was when I took German in college and we read the fantastic poem Erlkönig (gave me poetry stomach even in my halting German), and Faust. After reading Sartor I feel like I need to read more Goethe, only this time in English as I have sadly neglected my German.
But back to Carlyle. Sartor is often compared to Tristram Shandy (another book I haven’t read) in terms of technique. It is also considered by some to be an early Existentialist text.
I worried that the book would be hard to read and I would have no idea what it was talking about. I did have to look up a few things like Sansculottism, but over all it was not hard to follow. Sometimes the book was funny; sometimes it was just flat out weird. I can’t say the book was a pleasurable read, a good bit of it was a slog and it took me since May to read the final twenty pages. It was sort of like facing down the vegetable you like the least. You know it is good for you but you just can’t bring yourself to like it no matter how it gets dressed up. But once you’ve eaten it there is a certain sense of accomplishment and satisfaction as well as relief. How’s that for a recommendation? Read it if you dare.
I’ve been planning to read this for some time. I even have it downloaded onto my Kindle, although I haven’t done more than dip my toe in so far, with the first 8-10 pages.
Some books are timely, and some are timeless. My personal feeling is that this book was timely–it had something to say that would speak to readers of the day, but will have less impact on current readers. Instead, it seems to me to serve a more historical purpose–shedding light (maybe) on the thinking of that era.
‘facing down the vegetable you like the least’ – LOL! I know just what you mean. I have read a fair bit of Goethe in my time, and probably like Elective Affinities most of his work. Although my opinion of it changed from college days when I loved it, to last year when I reread it and enjoyed it but was not quite so blown away. Often these older texts respond really well to being studied, as in looked at for a specific purpose, but are not quite so hot as pleasure reads. The Carlyle sounds like it’s on the far end of that particular scale…
Krakovianka, downloading to your Kindle and dipping in your toe is half the battle. I think you are right, that this book was timely and not timeless. It does shed much light on the era, especially Trascendentalism. Much of the bits in the book about Nature Emerson echoes in his own essay on the subject.
Litlove, I seem to recall you reading Elective Affinities last year. It is always interesting how our feelings about a book change over time. You are right that some texts are meant to be studied rather than read for pleasure. This is definitely one for the study. If I had the time and inclination it would be interesting to pick it apart because for a slim book it packed full. Unfortunately I have not the time. Maybe in my retirement years
I put something up, and will probably write more tomorrow.
Your description of the book is excellent, and should let people know what they might be getting into. I love your conclusion. Ha ha, yes!
I want to insist, though, that Sartor Resartus can be, and has been, read for pleasure. I’ve done it twice! But I’ll confess that I don’t understand the distinction between pleasure and study being drawn here. There’s more than one kind of study, and more than one kind of pleasure.
Much of the pleasure comes from the how of the book, the style. I’m not sure what “timeless” means here, but I don’t see how the rhetoric, the digressions, the learned and not-so-learned jokes, the spill of words have lost their interest. I’m talking about reading for the prose. Carlyle is trying to make every single sentence interesting. I don’t think he quite hits that goal, but he’s close. How is he less timeless than Lamb or Hazlitt – or Emerson, also a complex, and sometimes baffling, stylist?
Hmm, the zucchini of literature, eh?
I must admit that when I read Carlyle in college (only fragments), I found what I think are supposed to be the funny parts to be instead very annoying, which prevented me from accessing/appreciating the rest of it. Which is too bad because in theory I find the idea of a half-serious half-satirical philosophical treatise, in which the boundaries between those two categories are unclear, to be super-cool. Carlyle’s particular style of humor just didn’t work for me. But I still have a niggling guilt in the back of my mind because I didn’t read the whole of Sartor Resartus, and maybe it would be less annoying in context. Not rushing out to try it, though.
I’m going to accept that dare!Like you, I’ve only read Goethe in German and that was years ago. I feel quite ashamed at not having read anything by Carlyle, as he was a local, but he doesn’t seem to be held in high esteem now. Maybe it’s that old Scottish “Kent his faither ” thing.
Amateur Reader, thanks! And thanks for having the Scottish Challenge. Sartor can be read for pleasure but it is a different sort of pleasure than one gets from reading the latest Margaret Atwood novel or a plot-thick thriller. What pleasure there is in Sartor I think, at least for me, was solely on the intellectual level. I was not emotionally engaged with the book at all except to be annoyed
As far as timeless goes, my meaning is that while a work is part of its time it also transcends it. While Sartor does have some things to say to us still, it is most decidedly a part of its time and its influence is mainly on other works of literature. This doesn’t mean of course that we should not read Carlyle, he is important historically and stylistically as you point out.
Emily, heh, I like zucchini so for me more like tomatoes
I can’t say that Carlyle’s humor will be any less annoying in context but it might be better appreciated.
Katrina, poor Carlyle, not even well regarded by his fellow countrymen
If you do take up the dare, I look forward to your thoughts on the book!
I don’t know if Carlyle is stylistically important. I think he’s stylistically good. I tried to make that case today, but I think that psot turned into something else. Heaven knows what.
I’m thinking of doing a big Goethe reread. He’s a difficult writer, and part of the difficulty is simply the amount and variety of stuff – he had a genuine 60 year long writing career. Maybe people would find that useful. Erlkönig is absolutely amazing. I think you’d really like the Roman Elegies.
Fascinating! I can’t help but read your post and Amateur Reader’s posts as a dare and a challenge. Perhaps I’ll take you up on it one of these days! I do love (love!) Tristram Shandy, so perhaps SR will be my kind of thing. I’ve also recently enjoyed reading Faust for a literature class I’m teaching this fall. It’s a strange play, but really interesting.
Amatuer Reader, ok, maybe not stylistically important but at least interesting, a bridge maybe between Sterne and the more experimental 20th century. Goethe had a 60-year writing career? Goodness! If you do a big Goethe project I might join you for one or two of them since I’d like to read to read Wether and Elective Affinities.
Dorothy, Carlyle is a dare and a challenge most definitely. I haven’t read TR and maybe Amateu Reader can verify, but I think the comparison between it and Carlyle is because of the stlye, the content and purpose are very different. Faust is a very strange play. I want to read it in English one of these days because reading it in German I was more interested in understanding the words than taking in the story and its nuances.
I should maybe insert here that Tristram Shandy is, I think, one of the dozen greatest novels of all time. Sartor Resartus is nowhere near that list!
Looking at the history of the English novel, it is sometimes surprisingly useful to divide 19th century writers into Fielding and Richardson camps (Dickens follows Fielding, Austen follows Richardson, for example). No one follows Laurence Sterne, not in the 19th century. No one but Carlyle, who is only barely a novelist. And Carlyle’s Sterne is filtered through the German Romantics, who absorbed Sterne pretty thoroughly.
Faust is sometimes hard to think of as an actual play, although there was a production a few years ago in Berlin, of both parts, with Bruno Ganz as Faust. Ganz is best known now, I fear, as Angry Hitler. Here’s a bit of it on Ye Olde Youtube. I’ll ponderate on the Goethe project.
Amateur Reader, thanks for the further information. I had to laugh though at Carlyle being barely a novelist. Too true! I find it hard to think of Faust as a play too. I’m glad I’m not the only one!
Poetry stomach?
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