Intro
Laurence Sterne's novel Tristram Shandy tells the story of a guy called—you guessed it—Tristram Shandy. It's written in the first person and presented as a kind of autobiography, even though Shandy wasn't supposed to be Sterne. And it's a really important work in the history of the novel because in it Sterne does all kinds of crazy things with plot. Remember the difference there?
So, the story of the novel, which is the day-by-day progression of Tristram's life, is pretty simple. But the plot is crazy complicated. That's mainly because Tristram, the narrator of the novel, loves not sticking to the point. This guy seriously cannot talk straight—it takes him ages to make a point. Need an example? It takes him over a hundred pages even to get to his own birth! Now there's a real sizzlin' siuzhet for ya.
Our friend Viktor Shklovsky really liked Tristram Shandy. And the reason he did is that it demonstrates so clearly the distinction between "story" and "plot." Let's face it, you can't get much clearer than opening the book with the narrator's folks getting it on between the covers and then waiting so long for the actual birth part.
So let's join mom and pops at the key moment. In the midst of the hanky-panky, momma-to-be asks daddy-to-be a question, and big daddy's a tad miffed. Tristram, writing many a year later, is certain that the reason he turned out so strange is that the moment of his conception wasn't, let's say, harmonious between his parents.
Quote
I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly consider'd how much depended upon what they were then doing; that not only the production of a rational Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind; and, for aught they knew to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost; Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly, I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that in which the reader is likely to see me. Believe me, good folks, this is not so inconsiderable a thing as many of you may think it; you have all, I dare say, heard of the animal spirits, as how they are transfused from father to son, &c. &c. and a great deal to that purpose: Well, you may take my word, that nine parts in ten of a man's sense or his nonsense, his successes and miscarriages in this world depend upon their motions and activity, and the different tracks and trains you put them into, so that when they are once set a-going, whether right or wrong, 'tis not a half-penny matter, away they go cluttering like hey-go mad; and by treading the same steps over and over again, they presently make a road of it, as plain and as smooth as a garden-walk, which, when they are once used to, the Devil himself sometimes shall not be able to drive them off it.
Pray my Dear, quoth my mother, have you not forgot to wind up the clock? Good G..! cried my father, making an exclamation, but taking care to moderate his voice at the same time, Did ever woman, since the creation of the world, interrupt a man with such a silly question?
Analysis
Remember what we said about the digressions? Yeah. Now you get it.
First, let's talk about the story of this passage, or what's actually happening. It's simple: Tristram is describing his parents having sex (now that's starting with a bang, right?). In the middle of sex—at the literal moment that Tristram is being conceived—mommy thinks maybe the clock isn't ticking as fast as she'd like it too so she does the logical thing and asks her hubby about it. He's got to do something around the house, after all. To which he's like, "I'm kind of in the middle of something" (which he thought she'd have noticed)—"couldn't you ask in like, four minutes?"
And that is literally all that happens in this passage. Well, with some paraphrasing. But we don't get this as a story in a straightforward way. Look at how complicated Tristram's way of telling it to us is: "I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me; had they duly consider'd how much depended upon what they were then doing, blah, blah, blah…"
And he keeps going. And going. And going.
Tristram, in other words, is digressing. He could have just told us: "When my mom and dad conceived me, my mom asked my dad a question that annoyed him. This screw-up at the moment of my conception is why I turned out such a weirdo, too."
Simple. But he doesn't do it that way. In other words, the way that Tristram releases the information (plot) is one thing. The information itself (story) is another. And that's what led Viktor to conceive his famous Siamese twins, plot and story.