The Anatomy of Melancholy (New York Review Books Classics)

Hilarious and encyclopedic pioneering analysis of bi-polar disorder by a 17th-Century English polymath who suffered from it, composing the work apparently during his manic phases. The author was both an ordained clergyman and a university professor; the lengthy effusive tome is delivered like a church sermon packed with learned allusions and citations in a delightful King-James style mingling prose and poetry. His favorite term and concept is "etc.," like the trill concluding an accelerating musical phrase of ever-shorter notes. Since the publishers could justify printing only for the mass of vernacular readers, he was obliged to provide English translations for his preferred Latin citations and original compositions. The edition I read features sturdy pages and binding for duty as a reference work for its plentiful quotations. It even includes a glossary to decode some of the idiosyncratic, unfamiliar, or altered vocabulary.The author apologizes for trespassing from his humanities field into medicine, which in those days were not so far apart, both practitioners being doctors after all. Although some of the anatomical knowledge is surprisingly accurate, much of the amusing medical and theological lore is thoroughly outdated. Particularly perceptive is the analysis of the various ways people are attracted to Divinity and to one another, and the resulting melancholy effects, which have not changed over the millennia. The horrors of an incompatible marriage are graphically delineated. Laying out all sides of every argument, from antiquity to his contemporaries, the author wisely declines "most part" to assert an authoritative conclusion, allowing his sources to speak for themselves. He stresses that scholars do little more than improve upon their predecessors' efforts. Taking on the persona of Democritus, a celebrated manic materialist philosopher from Greek antiquity who studied the folly of mankind and was known for dissecting animals to find out what made them tick, Burton's research into everything he could find dealing with insanity led to the conclusion that everyone has at least a touch of it. He declares that the herb used to purge it should be as plentiful as grass.He traces the causes to the seven deadly sins and all other human failings, intemperate obsessions, misfortunes, planetary influence, witchcraft, and unbalanced humors (i.e. hormones), identifying solitary scholars like himself as particularly susceptible (although immersion in study can also be a cure). The same causes foster physical ailments as well, which in turn also contribute to manic-depression. The author cautions hypochondriacs to avoid reading the parts of the book describing symptoms.As might be expected for what is ultimately a mental disorder, the recommended treatment consists of brainwashing techniques (which can also be a cause of aberrant manic-depressive behavior). Reversing or avoiding the underlying causes is favored. Success is more likely when the patient consents to treatment, and acknowledges the condition in the first place. Mortification of the flesh gives the intellect mastery over runaway emotions, particularly effective with lovesick youths, but can also lead to manic-depressive brainwashing. Incantations against demonic influence can be pronounced by clergymen or conjurors. Bloodletting to balance the humors was performed through accidental wounds or purposeful surgical procedures, a different trade from physicians. Trepanning and adventitious scull fractures were considered beneficial in venting noxious cranial vapors. A last resort is elixirs, pills, and lotions composed of herbs, precious gems or metals, or other minerals, ground into alcohol, flavoring, or sweetener. Tobacco is praised as a cure-all, or at least an effective treatment, but not to be used recreationally (in the days when tobacco was as plentiful as grass, there was little talk of depression). Remedies are to be tried in order from gentlest to harshest until encountering one (or a combination) that has a positive effect. Concluding the book is a thoroughgoing sermon making an effective case for salvation through the freshly purified Protestant establishment creeds. This was obviously considered the ultimate solution to the central problem of the treatise.Lurking among the stated primary topics are in-depth jeremiads on numerous related ethical and scientific tangents, prefiguring Denis Diderot's method of concealing sensitive diatribes from censors among innocuous entries in his French encyclopedia. These insightful speculative digressions do not hesitate to draw conclusions which would not be out of place in more modern contexts. They could be discounted as the ravings of a manic-depressive fool in the tradition of the court jester. It would be interesting to observe how the digressions evolved during the course of the different editions of the book, which coincided with an episode of revolutionary ferment in English society.

Written in parts in medical terms. But still manages to allow itself to be read as a story.The inside of both covers is coloured and the pages are tightly bound together considering the size of this thing.The spine will crease when opened fully, though.

But the decision to put the entire book into a single paperback volume was a bad mistake. It's impossible to hold it in any position or to turn the pages. Would have been much better to split it out into the three "partitions." I tried a couple of the kindle versions, but they are poorly edited, and the Latin and Greek (pretty extensive here) are not systematically translated.As for the book itself, you have probably seen it mentioned so many times that you have finally decided to see what all the rumpus is about. And it is truly wonderful. Compare to Montaigne. ..... Burton is even more poetic, and earthier too, and even more humorous.The amazing M. A. Screech, editor of (Penguin's) Montaigne, far exceeds this Burton's editor, Holbrook Jackson, in erudition and in helpfulness. The former is a modern scholar and the latter is vintage. I wish Screech, or someone like him, would get busy on Anatomy. (Sure, but but who could do anything approaching his accomplishment on Montaigne?). The intro here by William H. Gass is a great benefit of this edition, and in fact maybe we should pick up Gass' books next.My advice is to read the 3rd partition first, in case you don't think you will read the whole work. My favorite partition, anyway.I wish I had had time for a more studious reading, looking up the notes and looking more closely at the Latin, but alas I did not. Anyway, these notes just cite the sources of the quotations, nothing more. The reading alone is still a considerable effort, but very very worth it. You will wish you had known the author personally, just as you have imagined talking with Montaigne. A long wonderful book is just several wonderful shorter ones, so why be afraid?

About 1300 closely spaced pages long, a very heavy volume...you can really sink your teethinto it!

Usually available only in expensive private editions and nineteenth century complilations, the New York Review Books paperback edition of Robert Burton's "The Anatomy of Melancholy" is handy and relatively cheap. It reprints the sixth and final edition that Burton issued, each edition expanding with afterthoughts by the author. The original in 1621 was one-half the size of the last edition.Burton was an Oxford scholar who had spent much of his life in Christ Church College of that institution accumulating quotes, ideas, and general collectible wisdom from the classics. His self-styled anatomy of the causes of melancholy is both ponderous and witty--quite in tune with Burton's styling himself as "Democritus Junior." Democritus, you will recall, was a Greek philosopher of the 5th century BC who developed the idea of atoms forming the basis of the universe. He was also sometimes called the "laughing philosopher" because of his wit.Burton himself has a good time with this kind of humor, and his book is not at all a gloomy analysis of melancholy. What it is is a compendium of every kind of thought on the subject, and is replete with Latin quotations and Greek philosophy. It is a museum of myth, ignorance, and insight. Written in a uniquely antiquarian style, it is a treat for the modern reader. Like Sir Thomas Browne's gothic prose, Burton's is unique as well as intriguing. His book is meant to be dipped into, not to be read straight through. The wonderful thing is that it's not just a classic but a readable classic. It is, yes, antiquarian, but happily antiquarian.I loved it.

Nicely bound, no . I got the hardback version. Good quality paper. Despite 900+ pages the font is quite small but the contrast is good.A great reference book to dip into.Printed by Ingram.

El libro es incompleto. Además, en lugar de estar el texto justificado, está todo él centrado. Letra minúscula. Sin índice. Es una burda impresión hecha por Amazon.

For your goth life.

So this is supposed to be hard, supposed to be a block of marble for the scholars.But it ain't, it really is a supremely entertaining book.There will be sentences which you shall read and wonder:can english language really do such somersaults?And Gass wrote the introduction, which is very appropriate.

On one level as Samuel Beckett, might have said a Farago of chaotic nonsenseOn another, one of the most learned entertaining and amusing books that you will ever read, and worth every ounce of energy that is put into reading and understanding itIt is book that has lost nothing in 400 years