A Tramp Abroad
by Mark Twain 
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Description
In April 1878, Mark Twain and his family traveled to Europe. Overloaded with creative ideas, Twain had hoped that the sojourn would spark his creativity enough to bring at least one of the books in his head to fruition. Instead, he wrote of his walking tour of Europe, describing his impressions of the Black Forest, the Matterhorn, and other attractions. Neglected for years, A Tramp Abroad sparkles with Twain's shrewd observations and highly opinionated comments on Old World culture and show more showcases his unparalleled ability to integrate humorous sketches, autobiographical tidbits, and historical anecdotes in a consistently entertaining narrative. Cast in the form of a walking tour through Germany, Switzerland, France, Italy, and England, A Tramp Abroad includes among its adventures a voyage by raft down the Neckar and an ascent of Mont Blanc by telescope, as well as the author's attempts to study art-a wholly imagined activity Twain "authenticated" with his own wonderfully primitive pictures. This book reveals Mark Twain as a mature writer and is filled with brilliant prose, insightful wit, and Twain's unerring instinct for the truth. show lessTags
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Sandydog1 Both have equivalent high-doses of hyperbole, sarcasm, irreverence.
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Member Reviews
Hilarious first chapter (of Vol. 2), walking in the Swiss alps with his agent and courier. He sands his Agent Harris on ahead to scout out and report back, which he does after a few days, “all felt the heat in the climb up this very steep bolwoggoly, then we set out again…until from the Finsteraarhorn poured down a deluge of haboolong and hail” (11-13). Several pages feature such incomprehensible words. Clemens compliments his report, but asks about the words, turns out from Fiji, Zulu and Choctaw (bolwoggoly et al.) Clemens asks, “Why all this Choctaw rubbish?” Harris answers, “Because I didn’t know any French but two or three words, nor any Latin or greek at all.” Twain, “Why use foreign words anyhow?” Agent, “To show more adorn my page. They all do it.”(20)
Twain encountered the purported suicidal leaping-palace of Pontius Pilate, and the real St Nicholas, who’s buried in the church in Sachseln. “He has ranked for ages as the peculiar friend of children…He had ten of them, and when fifty years old he left them to become a hermit.” “St Nicholas will probably have to go on climbing down sooty chimneys Christmas Eve, forever, and conferring kindness on other people’s children, to make up for deserting his own”(24). During his hermit life, he partook of communion bread and wine once a month, but for the rest, he fasted. So Santa Claus was skinny. Guess Prof. Clement Moore’s account in 1823, the “right jolly old elf” displaced the thin saint.
Great stories of carriage rides slowly until reaching town, then faster “with the dust flying and the horn tooting”(30). Shocking to think stages drove faster through towns, to show off.
New to me, Twain’s words “Nooning,” which means lunch, and “alpenstock,” though that’s a climbing stick with an iron point. In the giant mountains, Twain finds rare cabins or hostels, near one shack— for builders of a stone house— he buys a beer “but I knew by the price it was dissolved jewelry”(74).
On one of the narrow paths by the side of a torrent when he heard a cowbell he hunted for “a place that would accomodate a cow and a Christian side by side.” That torrent was so fast he had his Agent race it, and “I made a trifle by betting on the log”(58).
When he gets to Florence, he assails Titian’s “Venus of Urbino” as the "foulest, the vilest, the obscenest picture the world possesses,” which appallingly signals how very far from us was this writer who seemed so close in his humor. Even more astonishing his wondering that “Art is allowed as much indecent license today as in earlier times, but the privileges of literature in this respect have been sharply curtailed in the last eighty or ninety years [since Fielding and Smollett]”(267). Modernism— James Joyce and D.H.Lawrence-- would reclaim literary license.
Around 1880 when this was written, Europe had not yet learned to make coffee (Germans using chicory), nor heat their “vast and chilly tombs [homes]”; I experienced a virtually unheated room in Perugia where I had to take a hot bath to warm myself. No breakfasts, and the rest of the food he critiques, excepting fish and grapes. “Sometimes there is a tolerably good peach, by mistake…Roast chicken, as tasteless as paper…One vegetable, brought on in state usually insipid lentils, or indifferent asparagus…A monotonous variety of unstriking dishes”(261ff).
Now began Volume I, Twain takes up birdtalk: "A raven can laugh, just like a man" -- A Tramp Abroad (Vol I, p.23). Only one man understood birds, Jim Baker, a miner. "A jay is the best talker." One jay filled a hole in the roof, dozens of acorns, but it didn't fill. When he called over other jays, they saw all his acorns had fallen to the floor of the abandoned cabin, and they mocked him. A jay's mockery is a terrible thing. "Come here," he said, "hang'd if this fool hasn't been trying to fill up a house with acorns." Thousands of jays came, and each "fell over backward with laughter, and the next jay took his place and done the same"(p.31, Uniform edition, Vol I). Jays seldom use bad grammar. A jay's interests andfeelings cover the whole ground. "A jay hasn't got any more principle than a Congressman"(25).
He visits Heidelberg and its university, the students more relaxed than they were in nine years of gymnasium (grammar and HS). But dueling plays a big part, the five "corps" distinguished by the color of their caps. They duel with swords, with body protections, but their head vulnerable. They duel in a large open room with tables where they eat. "I had seen the heads and and faces of ten youths gashed in every direction by the keen two-edged blades, yet had not seen a victim wine"(50). "Newly bandaged students are a common spectacle in the public gardens of Heidelberg"(55). "It was of record that Prince Bismarck fought thirty-two of these duels in a single summer term"-- twenty nine of them after he earned the right to retire from fighting (after 3 duels, none tied, of acceptable length).
Twain becomes second in a duel with tiny silver pistols; he stands behind a huge man 35 paces from the other pistol-wielder. Two shots ring out--German law allows only one bullet--and the huge man collapses on Twain. No need for the two coroners, nor the hearses, but yes, the surgeons: no injuries to the principles, though Twain is injured by the weight falling on him: Surgeons diagnose, "I would survive my injuries"(75).
Visiting a production of Lear, he notes German order, no late patrons seating themselves, no applause to interrupt, though he thinks this makes acting lonelier. American applause can urge actors onward. He finds German love of opera unfathomable, because they applaud formerly great tenors who can no longer sing. "Why do we think Germans stolid? They are very children of impulse. They cry and shout and dance and sing." Their language is filled with diminutive endearments.
On that language, Twain appends his "Awful German Language" essay, where three months with tutors, a couple of whom die, results in his one perfect phrase, "Zwei bieren," two beers. He's amused that in German a woman is female, but a Weib, a wife is not. Neuter. He complains about compounding of words forming words not in the dictionary, some very long. An English woman is "die Enlangerinn" or "she-Englishwoman." show less
Twain encountered the purported suicidal leaping-palace of Pontius Pilate, and the real St Nicholas, who’s buried in the church in Sachseln. “He has ranked for ages as the peculiar friend of children…He had ten of them, and when fifty years old he left them to become a hermit.” “St Nicholas will probably have to go on climbing down sooty chimneys Christmas Eve, forever, and conferring kindness on other people’s children, to make up for deserting his own”(24). During his hermit life, he partook of communion bread and wine once a month, but for the rest, he fasted. So Santa Claus was skinny. Guess Prof. Clement Moore’s account in 1823, the “right jolly old elf” displaced the thin saint.
Great stories of carriage rides slowly until reaching town, then faster “with the dust flying and the horn tooting”(30). Shocking to think stages drove faster through towns, to show off.
New to me, Twain’s words “Nooning,” which means lunch, and “alpenstock,” though that’s a climbing stick with an iron point. In the giant mountains, Twain finds rare cabins or hostels, near one shack— for builders of a stone house— he buys a beer “but I knew by the price it was dissolved jewelry”(74).
On one of the narrow paths by the side of a torrent when he heard a cowbell he hunted for “a place that would accomodate a cow and a Christian side by side.” That torrent was so fast he had his Agent race it, and “I made a trifle by betting on the log”(58).
When he gets to Florence, he assails Titian’s “Venus of Urbino” as the "foulest, the vilest, the obscenest picture the world possesses,” which appallingly signals how very far from us was this writer who seemed so close in his humor. Even more astonishing his wondering that “Art is allowed as much indecent license today as in earlier times, but the privileges of literature in this respect have been sharply curtailed in the last eighty or ninety years [since Fielding and Smollett]”(267). Modernism— James Joyce and D.H.Lawrence-- would reclaim literary license.
Around 1880 when this was written, Europe had not yet learned to make coffee (Germans using chicory), nor heat their “vast and chilly tombs [homes]”; I experienced a virtually unheated room in Perugia where I had to take a hot bath to warm myself. No breakfasts, and the rest of the food he critiques, excepting fish and grapes. “Sometimes there is a tolerably good peach, by mistake…Roast chicken, as tasteless as paper…One vegetable, brought on in state usually insipid lentils, or indifferent asparagus…A monotonous variety of unstriking dishes”(261ff).
Now began Volume I, Twain takes up birdtalk: "A raven can laugh, just like a man" -- A Tramp Abroad (Vol I, p.23). Only one man understood birds, Jim Baker, a miner. "A jay is the best talker." One jay filled a hole in the roof, dozens of acorns, but it didn't fill. When he called over other jays, they saw all his acorns had fallen to the floor of the abandoned cabin, and they mocked him. A jay's mockery is a terrible thing. "Come here," he said, "hang'd if this fool hasn't been trying to fill up a house with acorns." Thousands of jays came, and each "fell over backward with laughter, and the next jay took his place and done the same"(p.31, Uniform edition, Vol I). Jays seldom use bad grammar. A jay's interests andfeelings cover the whole ground. "A jay hasn't got any more principle than a Congressman"(25).
He visits Heidelberg and its university, the students more relaxed than they were in nine years of gymnasium (grammar and HS). But dueling plays a big part, the five "corps" distinguished by the color of their caps. They duel with swords, with body protections, but their head vulnerable. They duel in a large open room with tables where they eat. "I had seen the heads and and faces of ten youths gashed in every direction by the keen two-edged blades, yet had not seen a victim wine"(50). "Newly bandaged students are a common spectacle in the public gardens of Heidelberg"(55). "It was of record that Prince Bismarck fought thirty-two of these duels in a single summer term"-- twenty nine of them after he earned the right to retire from fighting (after 3 duels, none tied, of acceptable length).
Twain becomes second in a duel with tiny silver pistols; he stands behind a huge man 35 paces from the other pistol-wielder. Two shots ring out--German law allows only one bullet--and the huge man collapses on Twain. No need for the two coroners, nor the hearses, but yes, the surgeons: no injuries to the principles, though Twain is injured by the weight falling on him: Surgeons diagnose, "I would survive my injuries"(75).
Visiting a production of Lear, he notes German order, no late patrons seating themselves, no applause to interrupt, though he thinks this makes acting lonelier. American applause can urge actors onward. He finds German love of opera unfathomable, because they applaud formerly great tenors who can no longer sing. "Why do we think Germans stolid? They are very children of impulse. They cry and shout and dance and sing." Their language is filled with diminutive endearments.
On that language, Twain appends his "Awful German Language" essay, where three months with tutors, a couple of whom die, results in his one perfect phrase, "Zwei bieren," two beers. He's amused that in German a woman is female, but a Weib, a wife is not. Neuter. He complains about compounding of words forming words not in the dictionary, some very long. An English woman is "die Enlangerinn" or "she-Englishwoman." show less
I confess I bought this book because while perusing it in the bookstore I noticed that Dave Eggers had written the introduction, and because of visited several of the places that Twain writes about from his travels in 1878-1879. I was surprised at how good it was; I was very entertained throughout. You get what you would expect in Twain: wry comments and at times outlandish humor, but also his true reverence for nature and for beauty, and his love of travel, yet at the same time, his love for his home America. By far a better 'travelogue' than Dostoevsky's tepid "Winter Notes on Summer Impressions"; Twain is a true traveler, lover of life, and consummate humorist. He pokes fun at the places he visits and at American tourists and himself show more too. I can't imagine a better travel companion, and that's what this book feels like, a trip, and with a great travel companion.
Quotes, I start with the 'standard' Twain types of quips for:
- A French duel: "Sixty-five yards with these instruments? Squirt-guns would be deadlier at fifty."
- German opera: "...I lived over again all that I had suffered the time the orphan asylum burned down."
- German wine: "The Germans are exceedingly fond of Rhine wines; they are put up in tall, slender bottles, and are considered a pleasant beverage. One tells them from vinegar by the label."
- On cuckoo clocks: "Some sounds are hatefuller than others, but no sound is quite so insane, and silly, and aggravating as the 'hoo'hoo' of a cuckoo clock, I think."
- On St. Mark's in Venice: "Propped on its long row of low thick-legged columns, its back knobbed with domes, it seemed like a vast warty bug taking a meditative walk."
- Recipe for New England Pie concludes with: "...then solder on the lid and set in a safe place till it petrifies. Serve cold at breakfast and invite your enemy."
- Lastly, the recipe for German coffee which Twain found weak ends with: "Mix the beverage in a cold cup, partake with moderation, and keep a wet rag around your head to guard against over-excitement."
On beauty, with beautiful writing, and with humor at the end:
"She was an enchanting study. Her gown was of a soft white silky stuff that clung to her round young figure like a fish's skin, and it was rippled over with the gracefullest little fringy films of lace; she had deep, tender eyes, with long, curved lashes; and she had peachy cheeks, and a dimpled chin, and such a dear little dewy rosebud of a mouth; she was so dove-like, so pure, and so gracious, so sweet and bewitching. For long hours I did mightily wish she would speak. And at last she did; the red lips parted, and out leaped her thought, - and with such a guileless and pretty enthusiasm, too: 'Auntie, I just know I've got five hundred fleas on me!'"
On beauty as compared to ugliness:
"One does not find out what a hold the chalet has taken upon him, until he presently comes upon a new house, - a house which is aping the town fashions of Germany and France, a prim, hideous, straight up-and-down thing, plastered all over on the outside to look like stone, and altogether so stiff, and formal, and ugly and forbidding, and so out of tune with the gracious landscape, and so deaf and dumb to the poetry of its surroundings, that it suggests an undertaker at a picnic, a corpse at a wedding, a puritan in Paradise."
More:
"But every now and then, through the stern gateways around us we caught a view of some neighboring majestic dome, sheathed with glittering ice, and displaying its white purity at an elevation compared to which ours was groveling and plebeian, and this spectacle always chained one's interest and admiration at once, and made him forget there was anything ugly in the world."
And this one....wow:
"...we looked up toward a neighboring mountaintop, and saw exquisite primatic colors playing about some white clouds which were so delicate as to almost resemble gossamer webs. The faint pinks and greens were peculiarly beautiful; none of the colors were deep, they were the lightest shades. They were bewitchingly commingled. We sat down to study and enjoy this singular spectacle. The tints remained during several minutes - flitting, changing, melting into each other; paling almost away, for a moment, then re-flushing, - a shifting, restless, unstable succession of soft opaline gleams, shimmering over that airy film of white cloud, and turning it into a fabric dainty enough to clothe an angel with."
On college:
"So this German attends only the lectures which belong to the chosen branch, and drinks his beer and tows his dog around and has a general good time the rest of the day. He has been in rigid bondage so long that the large liberty of university life is just what he needs and likes and thoroughly appreciates; and it cannot last forever, he makes the most of it while it does last, and so lays up a good rest against the day that must see him put on the chains once more and enter the slavery of official or professional life."
On reading:
"I have a prejudice against people who print things in a foreign language and add no translation. When I am the reader, and the author considers me able to do the translating myself, he pays me quite a nice compliment,- but if he would do the translating for me I would try to get along without the compliment."
On religion:
"In this sordid place, and clothed, bedded and fed like a pauper, this strange princess lived and worshipped during two years, and in it she died. Two or three hundred years ago, this would have made the poor den holy ground; and the church would have set up a miracle-factory there and made plenty of money out of it."
"I think 't if a feller he'ps another feller when he's in trouble, and don't cuss, and don't do no mean things, nur noth'n' he ain't no business to do, and don't spell the Savior's name with a little g, he ain't runnin' no resks, - he's about as saift as if he b'longed to a church."
On perspective, the smallness of man against the majesty of nature:
"...the exactest simile I can devise is to compare them to ant-deposits of granulated dirt over-shadowed by the huge bulk of a cathedral. The steam-boats skimming along under the stupendous precipices were diminished by distance to the daintiest little toys, the sail-boats and row-boats to shallops proper for fairies that keep house in the cups of lilies and ride to court on the backs of bumble-bees."
"...one seemed to meet the immutable, the indestructible, the eternal, face to face, and to feel the trivial and fleeting nature of his own existence the more sharply by the contrast. One had the sense of being under the brooding contemplation of a spirit, not an inert mass of rocks and ice, - a spirt which had looked down, through the slow drift of the ages, upon a million vanished races of men, and judged them; and would judge a million more, - and still be there, watching, unchanged and unchangeable, after all life should be gone and the earth have become a vacant desolation."
"The Alps and glaciers together are able to take every bit of conceit out of a man and reduce his self-importance to zero if he will only remain within the influence of their sublime presence long enough to give it a fair and reasonable chance to do its work."
Lastly, there is humor in a lot of ways throughout the book that are hard to capture, and there are also some truly hilarious moments. My favorite was after he got up the nerve to talk to a young lady and was interrogated by his travel companion afterwards; it's hard to quote in it's entirety. I also loved Chapter 37, the "ascent of the Riffelberg". show less
Quotes, I start with the 'standard' Twain types of quips for:
- A French duel: "Sixty-five yards with these instruments? Squirt-guns would be deadlier at fifty."
- German opera: "...I lived over again all that I had suffered the time the orphan asylum burned down."
- German wine: "The Germans are exceedingly fond of Rhine wines; they are put up in tall, slender bottles, and are considered a pleasant beverage. One tells them from vinegar by the label."
- On cuckoo clocks: "Some sounds are hatefuller than others, but no sound is quite so insane, and silly, and aggravating as the 'hoo'hoo' of a cuckoo clock, I think."
- On St. Mark's in Venice: "Propped on its long row of low thick-legged columns, its back knobbed with domes, it seemed like a vast warty bug taking a meditative walk."
- Recipe for New England Pie concludes with: "...then solder on the lid and set in a safe place till it petrifies. Serve cold at breakfast and invite your enemy."
- Lastly, the recipe for German coffee which Twain found weak ends with: "Mix the beverage in a cold cup, partake with moderation, and keep a wet rag around your head to guard against over-excitement."
On beauty, with beautiful writing, and with humor at the end:
"She was an enchanting study. Her gown was of a soft white silky stuff that clung to her round young figure like a fish's skin, and it was rippled over with the gracefullest little fringy films of lace; she had deep, tender eyes, with long, curved lashes; and she had peachy cheeks, and a dimpled chin, and such a dear little dewy rosebud of a mouth; she was so dove-like, so pure, and so gracious, so sweet and bewitching. For long hours I did mightily wish she would speak. And at last she did; the red lips parted, and out leaped her thought, - and with such a guileless and pretty enthusiasm, too: 'Auntie, I just know I've got five hundred fleas on me!'"
On beauty as compared to ugliness:
"One does not find out what a hold the chalet has taken upon him, until he presently comes upon a new house, - a house which is aping the town fashions of Germany and France, a prim, hideous, straight up-and-down thing, plastered all over on the outside to look like stone, and altogether so stiff, and formal, and ugly and forbidding, and so out of tune with the gracious landscape, and so deaf and dumb to the poetry of its surroundings, that it suggests an undertaker at a picnic, a corpse at a wedding, a puritan in Paradise."
More:
"But every now and then, through the stern gateways around us we caught a view of some neighboring majestic dome, sheathed with glittering ice, and displaying its white purity at an elevation compared to which ours was groveling and plebeian, and this spectacle always chained one's interest and admiration at once, and made him forget there was anything ugly in the world."
And this one....wow:
"...we looked up toward a neighboring mountaintop, and saw exquisite primatic colors playing about some white clouds which were so delicate as to almost resemble gossamer webs. The faint pinks and greens were peculiarly beautiful; none of the colors were deep, they were the lightest shades. They were bewitchingly commingled. We sat down to study and enjoy this singular spectacle. The tints remained during several minutes - flitting, changing, melting into each other; paling almost away, for a moment, then re-flushing, - a shifting, restless, unstable succession of soft opaline gleams, shimmering over that airy film of white cloud, and turning it into a fabric dainty enough to clothe an angel with."
On college:
"So this German attends only the lectures which belong to the chosen branch, and drinks his beer and tows his dog around and has a general good time the rest of the day. He has been in rigid bondage so long that the large liberty of university life is just what he needs and likes and thoroughly appreciates; and it cannot last forever, he makes the most of it while it does last, and so lays up a good rest against the day that must see him put on the chains once more and enter the slavery of official or professional life."
On reading:
"I have a prejudice against people who print things in a foreign language and add no translation. When I am the reader, and the author considers me able to do the translating myself, he pays me quite a nice compliment,- but if he would do the translating for me I would try to get along without the compliment."
On religion:
"In this sordid place, and clothed, bedded and fed like a pauper, this strange princess lived and worshipped during two years, and in it she died. Two or three hundred years ago, this would have made the poor den holy ground; and the church would have set up a miracle-factory there and made plenty of money out of it."
"I think 't if a feller he'ps another feller when he's in trouble, and don't cuss, and don't do no mean things, nur noth'n' he ain't no business to do, and don't spell the Savior's name with a little g, he ain't runnin' no resks, - he's about as saift as if he b'longed to a church."
On perspective, the smallness of man against the majesty of nature:
"...the exactest simile I can devise is to compare them to ant-deposits of granulated dirt over-shadowed by the huge bulk of a cathedral. The steam-boats skimming along under the stupendous precipices were diminished by distance to the daintiest little toys, the sail-boats and row-boats to shallops proper for fairies that keep house in the cups of lilies and ride to court on the backs of bumble-bees."
"...one seemed to meet the immutable, the indestructible, the eternal, face to face, and to feel the trivial and fleeting nature of his own existence the more sharply by the contrast. One had the sense of being under the brooding contemplation of a spirit, not an inert mass of rocks and ice, - a spirt which had looked down, through the slow drift of the ages, upon a million vanished races of men, and judged them; and would judge a million more, - and still be there, watching, unchanged and unchangeable, after all life should be gone and the earth have become a vacant desolation."
"The Alps and glaciers together are able to take every bit of conceit out of a man and reduce his self-importance to zero if he will only remain within the influence of their sublime presence long enough to give it a fair and reasonable chance to do its work."
Lastly, there is humor in a lot of ways throughout the book that are hard to capture, and there are also some truly hilarious moments. My favorite was after he got up the nerve to talk to a young lady and was interrogated by his travel companion afterwards; it's hard to quote in it's entirety. I also loved Chapter 37, the "ascent of the Riffelberg". show less
"A Tramp Abroad", like any dated satire, is made difficult to appreciate when society is no longer innundated with the thing being satirized; in this case, 19th century travelogues from Americans travelling abroad who used a narrow lens to arrive at their impression of other cultures. Consequently I had no idea when he was kidding or not. To understand Europe in the later 1800s you'll have to seek elsewhere. Did German students pointlessly duel to the point of mutilating each other (doubtful, I thought, but see the "Dueling scar" entry on Wikipedia)? Could a ship actually navigate the entire length of a winding river by dragging a chain through its belly (maybe...)? I had less patience for the chapters that were too obviously false from show more start to finish, like his tackling the Matterhorn.
It worked best when I read each chapter as if it were a blog entry. That format would have suited Mark Twain admirably. While I was reading his travelogue in this way, I didn't mind that the chapters felt like a mostly disconnected series of episodes, some about what he saw and did on his travels, some digressing into retelling the legends he picked up, personal foibles, etc. Then I was able to fully enjoy the obvious kidding, his talent for description, and be amused with wondering how much was farce and what was fact (is there a study guide that sorts this out?). Less frequently, it felt like the days when someone invited you over to see a slideshow of their trip. Then it was someone naddering on and on about where he went, what he did, look how beautiful this bit of scenery is, here's a shot of a person we met and let me tell you her life story, etc.
There's no denying Twain's skill for telling any kind of story about anything. A blog by Mark Twain would have had me reading daily and, sure, even an invitation to a Mark Twain slideshow would win my attendance. I'm not sure this book is the best way to sample him, but it is a way, and you'll definitely obtain a sense of his style. Remember to read the often quoted appendices relating to Heidelberg Castle, and the German language. show less
It worked best when I read each chapter as if it were a blog entry. That format would have suited Mark Twain admirably. While I was reading his travelogue in this way, I didn't mind that the chapters felt like a mostly disconnected series of episodes, some about what he saw and did on his travels, some digressing into retelling the legends he picked up, personal foibles, etc. Then I was able to fully enjoy the obvious kidding, his talent for description, and be amused with wondering how much was farce and what was fact (is there a study guide that sorts this out?). Less frequently, it felt like the days when someone invited you over to see a slideshow of their trip. Then it was someone naddering on and on about where he went, what he did, look how beautiful this bit of scenery is, here's a shot of a person we met and let me tell you her life story, etc.
There's no denying Twain's skill for telling any kind of story about anything. A blog by Mark Twain would have had me reading daily and, sure, even an invitation to a Mark Twain slideshow would win my attendance. I'm not sure this book is the best way to sample him, but it is a way, and you'll definitely obtain a sense of his style. Remember to read the often quoted appendices relating to Heidelberg Castle, and the German language. show less
When Twain visited Germany in 1879 he was suffering writers block. His great work Huckleberry Finn was stuck mid-stream and he was too. What better way to shake the cobwebs off then a trip to Europe. Twain struggled through the writing of A Tramp Abroad and it shows in the sort of uneven quality and changing direction. Nevertheless it contains some excellent material. The first part about Heidelberg is the best - Twain didn't actually float a raft down the river and wreck (like what happened to Finn), this was made-up, but the descriptions of scenery and place makes it easy to follow on Google Maps and gain a sense of the place. The second best is in Switzerland as he recounts some climbs of renown up to the time, one gets a good sense show more of climbing culture and life in 19th Century. This is my first travel book by Twain I'd read more. show less
A Tramp Abroad gives an account of one of Mark Twain's journeys through Europe. It is one of the author's travelogues in which he shares his observations while 'tramping' through Germany, Switzerland, France and Italy. 'Tramping' here includes the ascent of Mont Blanc by telescope. With a book as this you cannot really tell what exactly it is about apart from saying what I just said. You'd either have to tell it all or just leave it. I decided to leave it for the interested readers to explore. Just imagine an American traveling through Europe at the end of the 19th century.
To my mind there are certain things that make this book an interesting, if unconventional, read. First, there is Twain's gift for humorous depictions of people and show more places. Twain manages to tell his stories in a lighthearted fashion that actually makes you laugh out loud at times. Second, A Tramp Abroad contains various drawings made by the author himself to support his stories with some sort of 'proof'. Those drawings further contribute to the satirical way this book is written in. Eventually I have to say that I liked how Twain constantly tries to convince the reader of the truthfulness of what he's telling. At numerous points in the book, the author uses footnotes to heighten his credibility. There is even an appendix to fit in all the accounts Twain could not get into his main narrative. This last aspect is somewhat ironic as the main narrative is just an unconnected telling of stories in which the narrator often digresses into things that are only remotely relevant to his story. To give potential readers some idea of what I especially liked about this book and about Mark Twain in general I chose some quotations that I find quite revealing as to Twain's style. Personally, I think Twain is a genius.
Now, in the end I was not sure how to rate this book in terms of stars. A Tramp Abroad is certainly an interesting and funny read. However, I think to really enjoy it you have to have been in one of the countries that are depicted in the book or have some knowledge about Germany and Switzerland. Otherwise, you just would not enjoy the book that much, I assume. Living in Germany, though, I find the book highly recommendable. Finally a note on the reading experience. A book with little above 400 pages that is divided into 50 chapters and an appendix is nothing like the usual reading experience you have with novels. But then again A Tramp Abroad is not a novel. So you might need some time to get used to the structure of the book. It is more like some fifty plus separate stories as Twain usually tells more than one story per chapter. All things considered, I would rate the book with 3.5 stars. show less
To my mind there are certain things that make this book an interesting, if unconventional, read. First, there is Twain's gift for humorous depictions of people and show more places. Twain manages to tell his stories in a lighthearted fashion that actually makes you laugh out loud at times. Second, A Tramp Abroad contains various drawings made by the author himself to support his stories with some sort of 'proof'. Those drawings further contribute to the satirical way this book is written in. Eventually I have to say that I liked how Twain constantly tries to convince the reader of the truthfulness of what he's telling. At numerous points in the book, the author uses footnotes to heighten his credibility. There is even an appendix to fit in all the accounts Twain could not get into his main narrative. This last aspect is somewhat ironic as the main narrative is just an unconnected telling of stories in which the narrator often digresses into things that are only remotely relevant to his story. To give potential readers some idea of what I especially liked about this book and about Mark Twain in general I chose some quotations that I find quite revealing as to Twain's style. Personally, I think Twain is a genius.
I have since found out there is nothing the Germans like so much as an opera. They like it, not in a mild and moderate way, but with their whole hearts. This is a legitimate result of habit and education. Our nation will like the opera, too, by and by, no doubt. One in fifty of those who attend our operas likes it already, perhaps, but I think a good many of the other forty-nine go in order to learn to like it, and the rest in order to be able to talk knowingly about it. The latter usually hum the airs while they are being sung, so that their neighbors may perceive that they have been to operas before. The funerals of these do not occur often enough.
(on opera visits, p. 50)
The Germans are exceedingly fond of Rhine wines; they are put up in tall, slender bottles and are considered a pleasant beverage. One tells them from vinegar by the label.
(on German wine, p. 84)
Now, in the end I was not sure how to rate this book in terms of stars. A Tramp Abroad is certainly an interesting and funny read. However, I think to really enjoy it you have to have been in one of the countries that are depicted in the book or have some knowledge about Germany and Switzerland. Otherwise, you just would not enjoy the book that much, I assume. Living in Germany, though, I find the book highly recommendable. Finally a note on the reading experience. A book with little above 400 pages that is divided into 50 chapters and an appendix is nothing like the usual reading experience you have with novels. But then again A Tramp Abroad is not a novel. So you might need some time to get used to the structure of the book. It is more like some fifty plus separate stories as Twain usually tells more than one story per chapter. All things considered, I would rate the book with 3.5 stars. show less
A funny trip around Central Europe with the funny, witty Marrk Twain as your companion.
1/4 brilliant and hilarious. 1/4 wry and sometimes sophomoric puns and gags. 1/4 repetitive attempts at humor. 1/4 late 19th century travelogue. The French dueling description was a scream and the observation of German students (hacking each other up during fencing challenges) was spot-on accurate. 'Well worth the time it took to get through all this, from the perfect side story and behavioral description of a Blue Jay, all the way through the appendices.
I love Mark Twain and this is one of his better works.
I love Mark Twain and this is one of his better works.
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Author Information
2,746+ Works 208,400 Members
Mark Twain was born Samuel L. Clemens in Florida, Missouri on November 30, 1835. He worked as a printer, and then became a steamboat pilot. He traveled throughout the West, writing humorous sketches for newspapers. In 1865, he wrote the short story, The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, which was very well received. He then began a show more career as a humorous travel writer and lecturer, publishing The Innocents Abroad in 1869, Roughing It in 1872, and, Gilded Age in 1873, which was co-authored with Charles Dudley Warner. His best-known works are The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Mississippi Writing: Life on the Mississippi, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. He died of a heart attack on April 21, 1910. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
Mark Twain has a Legacy Library. Legacy libraries are the personal libraries of famous readers, entered by LibraryThing members from the Legacy Libraries group.
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Is contained in
The Novels of Mark Twain Volume Two: A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, A Tramp Abroad, and Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc by Mark Twain
The Complete Travel Books of Mark Twain, Volume II: The Later Works: A Tramp Abroad, Life on the Mississippi, and Following the Equator by Mark Twain
Contains
Is retold in
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Common Knowledge
- Canonical title*
- Bummel durch Europa
- Original publication date
- 1880
- Important places*
- Amerika; Schweiz; Deutschland
- First words
- One day it occurred to me that it had been many years since the world had been afforded the spectacle of a man adventurous enough to undertake a journey through Europe on foot.
- Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)I think that one who mixes much with Americans long resident abroad must arrive at this conclusion.
*Some information comes from Common Knowledge in other languages. Click "Edit" for more information.
Classifications
- Genres
- Travel, Fiction and Literature
- DDC/MDS
- 818.403 — Literature & rhetoric American literature in English American miscellaneous writings in English Later 19th Century 1861-1900 Diaries, journals, notebooks, reminiscences
- LCC
- PS1321 .A1 — Language and Literature American literature American literature Individual authors 19th century
- BISAC
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- Reviews
- 23
- Rating
- (3.84)
- Languages
- English, Finnish, German, Russian
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- Paper, Audiobook, Ebook
- ISBNs
- 118
- UPCs
- 1
- ASINs
- 86