I practically memorized this entire book when I was a sophomore in high school, so it probably brings a lot of bad memories to people who knew me then. But seriously, this was the funniest book I'd ever read up until that point. The humor is a strange mix of borchst-belt one-liners and sophisticated critiques of man's faculty for reason and speculation. It's an odd mix, that manifests in truly odd, esoteric pieces of intellectual inquiry. What, for example, would be the main difference if the Impressionist painters had been dentists instead? Or how does Greek tragedy work if the chorus is borrowed from a production of "My Fair Lady" and the main spectacle of the performance is a machine that delivers God to the stage, but God arrives dead? Most of the problems W. Allen poses will never have to be encounterd in real life, but their deadpan humor often relates us back to our own place in the cosmos. For example, in "But Soft....Real Soft," Woody Allen takes on the age-old intellectual argument over the authorship of Shakespeare's plays. Everyone from Pope Alexander to Alexander Pope pops up as a possible subject. The essay reminds us that ideas of immortality in literature are inherently dependent upon an education system that encourages memorization and interconnectedness. This book makes those very concepts seem dear and impractical.
Favorite bits: from "THE ALLEN NOTEBOOKS" he writes, "Should I marry W.? Not if she won't tell me the rest of the letters in her name." The tone is half-literary convention; half punchline. Having cut his teeth in writing television gags and one-liners, Woody Allen can write good jokes and he can write interesting situations of philosophical interest. The crazy thing is that he makes both kinds of tone work well together.
The centerpieces of this book are 2 plays. The first, God, pays tribute to the theatre festivals of the ancient Greeks but with a delightful intertextuality that also allows characters such as Stanly Kowalski and Blanche Dubois from "Streetcar Named Desire" to infiltrate the new theatre, as imagined by playwrights Diabetes and Trichinosis. The cross pollination of ancient Greek ideas of art and the universe along with contemporary questions of existence makes for a lively inquiry into the meaning of the universe. The second play,"Death," didn't work all that well, and I remember hearing parts of the dialogue reworked into "Shadows and Fog," one of Allen's less interesting films. But the pacing of the humor is admirable, and it certainly is refreshing to read plays that, like Pirandello's, break down the conventions of theatre and remake them in new, exciting ways.
This book is a appropriate for precocious kids, college students, New Yorkers, intellectuals and anyone who wants to laugh deeply at the folly of human existence. Even after all these years, I still laugh out loud at the twists, at the timing, at the vocabulary of humor ("ruptured her spleen" is funny, anything involving an insurance salesman is funny, and of course meditations on life and death are funny, funny, funny). One of his best.