Clarence DayBesprekingen

Clarence Day’s memoirs are some of my favorite books. A loving if tumultuous family dynamic and hilarious stories of their clashes.

This memoir of the author’s father is supposedly famous for its gentle humor, but I didn’t find anything at all funny about the bigoted, sexist, selfish ass.

I love Clarence Day’s books and have since I was a teen. Fascinating and loving if bemused portrayal of life in a wealthy NYC family.

From Day's book, [b:Life with Father|506871|Life with Father|Clarence Day Jr.|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1262145378l/506871._SY75_.jpg|494907]. I saw the movie years ago with William Powell, Irene Dunne and a young Elizabeth Taylor. I remember it fondly, so I found the story a bit of nostalgia and easy to visualize.

Something about the tone didn't click with me. . . I have a feeling it could be funnier if it did. All in all, I liked the characters but always felt like I was missing an "in" joke.

One thing that did get through to me: his dad certainly had two favorite expletives. PG rating, probably.

Includes: God and my father -- Life with Father -- Life with Mother -- This Simian World -- Thoughts without words (selections)

i remember liking this as a tv show. a good story of living with your parents,

I read this when I was very young, and it was pleasant enough.

Author is best known for his book "Life with Father" made into a film in the 1940s with Clifton Webb and Elizabeth Taylor. "The Crow's Nest" is s collection of articles written for various magazines of the age.
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I've heard of this classic, "Life with Father", but had never read it until this month, as part of a LT challenge.

The story is based upon the author's life, growing up in New York City of the late 1800's. Clarence Jr. is the eldest of four sons born to Clarence Day Sr., a stockbroker as well as an extremely opinionated gentleman. The relationship between Clarence Sr. and his wife, Vivian, is very amusing and should remind some of us of our own family's idiosyncrasies.

Father doesn't mince words when he holds a strong opinion, which is 100% of the time. None of the shopkeepers, servants or society members is a match for father's bombastic rants, except, sometimes, his wife, who confuses him with her mild manner and illogical thought processes.

It reminded me of "Cheaper by the Dozen" in some ways. Recommended read.

Having long been a fan of the 1947 movie of the same name, reading this book was long, long overdue for me. While reading along I couldn’t help but imagine the cherished William Powell and Irene Dunne having at each other. It does make me wonder how the story would have struck me without the pretext of the movie to look back on with such strong visuals.

The Clarence Sr. of the movie is tempestuous and cantankerous of nature but fundamentally one is left with a positive impression. The viewer never really doubts that he is a good man at heart but one cannot avoid the conclusion that he would be a royal pain to live with. Perhaps in part this is Powell shining through in the role but no matter how many times Father storms about the house at the end of it all you do still rather like him.

Father of the book is just as blustery and just as much of a tempest in a teacup but it costs one quite a bit more effort to like him. The author himself (Clarence Jr) goes to small and periodic effort to endear the reader to his father but the attempts ring rather hollow like a man whose protagonist is watching over his shoulder as he writes. There seems just an edge of boyhood resentment that is very carefully scraped off in the movie’s portrayal of Father.

It is also of note that while the cinematic version is relatively connected and sequential the book takes no such formalities. It seems to jump rather randomly from episode to episode and one is left asking periodically in what decade the particular tidbit is taking place. As such it makes for a very light read but one that requires the reader to throw away any notion of cause and effect.

The thread that I came away with most solidly from this bit of literature was less about the book and more about the movie which came after. Powell’s Clarence is eerily like the Clarence of the text almost as if the role was made for him specifically. The romantic and nostalgic side of me wants to believe that this is because movies in the 40s were a craft and that viewers would notice and object strongly if their beloved characters of fiction are tinkered with even in the slightest. The fact that the plot itself, if you call a disconnected episodic assortment of remembrances a plot, was only remotely similar seems of little import. In these not-entirely-to-be-believed halcyon days of yore it was character that was important to the viewing public. Today all we want is more and bloodier gun battles between larger and more foul-mouthed devotees of thuggery.

If I allow myself to wax realistic for a moment I admit that doubtless my palate has been so repeatedly whitewashed by the movie version of Clarence that I’m not longer intellectually capable of seeing a Clarence Day Sr without seeing William Powell. Psychology of repetition and ordinality aside, Day’s 1920 novel is high on my recommended reading list.

Having long been a fan of the 1947 movie of the same name, reading this book was long, long overdue for me. While reading along I couldn’t help but imagine the cherished William Powell and Irene Dunne having at each other. It does make me wonder how the story would have struck me without the pretext of the movie to look back on with such strong visuals.

The Clarence Sr. of the movie is tempestuous and cantankerous of nature but fundamentally one is left with a positive impression. The viewer never really doubts that he is a good man at heart but one cannot avoid the conclusion that he would be a royal pain to live with. Perhaps in part this is Powell shining through in the role but no matter how many times Father storms about the house at the end of it all you do still rather like him.

Father of the book is just as blustery and just as much of a tempest in a teacup but it costs one quite a bit more effort to like him. The author himself (Clarence Jr) goes to small and periodic effort to endear the reader to his father but the attempts ring rather hollow like a man whose protagonist is watching over his shoulder as he writes. There seems just an edge of boyhood resentment that is very carefully scraped off in the movie’s portrayal of Father.

It is also of note that while the cinematic version is relatively connected and sequential the book takes no such formalities. It seems to jump rather randomly from episode to episode and one is left asking periodically in what decade the particular tidbit is taking place. As such it makes for a very light read but one that requires the reader to throw away any notion of cause and effect.

The thread that I came away with most solidly from this bit of literature was less about the book and more about the movie which came after. Powell’s Clarence is eerily like the Clarence of the text almost as if the role was made for him specifically. The romantic and nostalgic side of me wants to believe that this is because movies in the 40s were a craft and that viewers would notice and object strongly if their beloved characters of fiction are tinkered with even in the slightest. The fact that the plot itself, if you call a disconnected episodic assortment of remembrances a plot, was only remotely similar seems of little import. In these not-entirely-to-be-believed halcyon days of yore it was character that was important to the viewing public. Today all we want is more and bloodier gun battles between larger and more foul-mouthed devotees of thuggery.

If I allow myself to wax realistic for a moment I admit that doubtless my palate has been so repeatedly whitewashed by the movie version of Clarence that I’m not longer intellectually capable of seeing a Clarence Day Sr without seeing William Powell. Psychology of repetition and ordinality aside, Day’s 1920 novel is high on my recommended reading list.

Not at funny as it should have been.

I saw the movie first (with William Powell? and Elizabeth Taylor) which I love. The book didn't add much to that enjoyment (not that I'm knocking it).½

I loved this little book. Author Clarence Day tells stories of his family, the redheaded and high spirited Days, from the 1880's to the early years of the twentieth century. Father, a plain spoken man who issued commands and expected them to be instantly obeyed, is a delightful character. Recommended.

Humour, no matter how understated, often has a tendency to age poorly. Life with Father is a good case in point, in that the stubborn but lovable central character no longer seems quite so lovable 75 years later, and the humorous anecdotes now seem more like living under the tyrannical decrees of a spoiled and petulant man-child.

There were still flashes of humour and it remains an (albeit exaggerated) window into a bygone age, no doubt, but even the normally sublime and sedated New Yorker style can not stop the march of time and changing mores.½

Clarence Day's Life with Mother and Life with Father are sets of charming stories, detailing some elements of Day's life with his unique parents. The descriptions of the people who appear through the tales are vivid and engaging and the stories flowed well, making them easy to read. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself avidly wishing for more once I finished both of the volumes.

(This review refers to an edition including both 'Life with Father' and 'Life with Mother'.)

Clarence Day's Life with Mother and Life with Father are sets of charming stories, detailing some elements of Day's life with his unique parents. The descriptions of the people who appear through the tales are vivid and engaging and the stories flowed well, making them easy to read. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself avidly wishing for more once I finished both of the volumes.
(This review refers to an edition including only 'Life with Father' and 'Life with Mother.')

One of the best writers of gentle humor, ever.

I had read chapters of Life With Father when they were included in my reading curriculum back in seventh grade or something. My reader had included only the best chapters, so my high expectations were slightly dashed when I read the full book. The stories center on the character of Father and the family's life in the 1880s in busy New York, as told by the oldest son, Clarence. I have to admit I really disliked Father in the first six or seven chapters. I don't care how funny his bullheaded antics and loud yelling are to read about — I've been that poor person in retail being yelled at and walked all over by some imperious, ego-driven man. I would never have chosen to marry a man like that, and I rather wondered at Mrs. Day for it.

But when we started seeing more about the family, I didn't mind Father so much. The best parts are the bits about family life, not just the portraits of Father. Seen by himself out the context of family life, Father is almost a caricature of himself, and positively insufferable. He yells all the time and is pretty much incapable of seeing anyone else's point of view. But when this is portrayed in a family setting, with Mother practicing her little stratagems to evade his bluster and the sons observing their parents' often humorous interactions, I softened up a bit until finally I consented to laugh. Father has his good points too.

The story itself is a string of vignettes and little snapshots of family life. I couldn't stop giggling over this little gem of a paragraph:

Whenever Harold got hurt, which was perhaps rather often, the important thing to do was to choke him. If we had tried to comfort him first, his wails would have brought Mother up on the run. We also had found out by experience that it was a great mistake to choke him in silence, because the silence itself would make Mother suspect that something dreadful had happened. Consequently, while choking our indignant little brother, we had to make joyful sounds. This must often have given us the appearance of peculiarly hard-hearted fiends.

Anyone who has younger siblings can testify to the truth of these words.

These stories remind me excessively of Cheaper by the Dozen and Belles on Their Toes (charismatic, larger-than-life father and intelligent, fun mother — and a crop of redheaded kids). But I think I prefer the Gilbreths to the Days. Mr. Gilbreth is just easier to imagine living with, and the stories are much funnier. But they are enough alike that fans of one would enjoy the other. Overall, this is a fairly well-written book with some very memorable moments and fun characters.

2403 Life With Mother, by Clarence Day (read 18 Aug 1991) This is a portrait of another world: the rich in New York in the 1880's. I found the utterly different world that existed in that day and that class the most interesting part of this rather facile bunch of vignettes of the author's mother and father. Day is far more famous for his Life with Father, which I've never read and need not now that I've read this.½

I bought Life with Father, and Life with Mother from the paperback book clubs at school when I was a kid (the 50s-60s). I loved them and read them to death, and was so pleased to find this volume that included them both. The writing is funny, warm, and evocative of quite another era.½

I had seen the movie called "Life With Father" years ago. This was an entertaining look at life in the upper class or upper middle class of New York City in the late 1800's-early 1900's. Told through the eyes of a "boy" describing life in his family.

my edition was printed 1943