Ah, Apuleius, Boccaccio, Rabelais, Cervantes, Sterne, and here Diderot: the great erotic jokers and wizards of meta-narrative tricks. Diderot, more than the others, I think, shows just how much philosophy there is in the art of narrating fictions (that is, in telling dirty stories). He brings out some fascinating sub themes in the mottle tales told by Jacques, his master, and their bawdy landlady in this rambling, interrupted, and oft self-reflective anti-novel: male rivalry and the love/hate homoerotic aspects of the duel, the unexpected effects of our machinations/causes (as seen in a story of revenge backfiring), justice and its abuses or deception as a kind of mirror to the stoic's concept of fate or stoic Christian's version, predestination--as well as the fiction writer's artful lie in the service of truth.

What an amusing and amazing read this novel is. It makes me proud to be a novelist and, at times, also a joker. There's more wisdom in humor and made-up funny stories than in all of the political and serious philosophic diatribes ever penned, I believe. Jacques proves as much. if you doubt me, just consult your gourd.