| Title | : | The Far Side of the World (Aubrey Maturin, #10) |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0393308626 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780393308624 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 366 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 1984 |
The Far Side of the World (Aubrey Maturin, #10) Reviews
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In case you've ever wanted to know what it feels like without actually doing it, here is a book that moves with the slow satisfaction of a sailboat journey around the world. The flow of language will at times rock you asleep and other times you will be buffeted about by a crash of words mightily massed and moving perpetually forward.
But mostly The Far Side of the World is a book for those who are already embroiled in the saga of Jack and Stephen, two unlikely friends bound together in a noble cause, the fight against tyranny.
That's not to say newcomers couldn't begin mid-way through the series by picking up this 10th book--literally the exact middle--and not enjoy themselves. One of the smart things Patrick O'Brian did was to make each book self-contained. Now granted, there is a story thread passing through the series from start to finish and you'd be better served starting at the beginning. However, O'Brian gives enough backstory to bring anyone and everyone up to speed, so that you can enjoy these books as one-offs.
That is also part of the problem with these books, they tend to start slow because of all the backstory given. Also, O'Brian spends some time setting up the action to come. There is necessary information to deliver to the readers and there is unnecessary-but-welcome foreshadowing. All of that means the story doesn't usually get underway for a few chapters. But I suggest just sitting back and enjoying the subtly with which the author delicately maneuvers his readers through dangerous plot shoals and takes them out to clear-sailing, deep blue waters.
The Far Side of the World contains almost no sea battles, yet herein you'll find shocking violence of a different nature. Human nature can be fickle, funny and frightening. Readers are treated to a little bit of everything in this one as love sours and blooms aboard ship, and the consequences are brutal.
I've read book #10 about three or four times now over the years with a gap in between each time just long enough that I forget the most unexpected turn the story takes. Those caught up in the sea battle chases that this series so often delivers spectacularly might be disappointed, but I found it to be a dangerous and delightful detour away from the norm.
Those familiar with the movie "Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World" will see that director Peter Weir took the basic structure of his movie from this book. However, it is not faithful from start to finish. For instance, our hero's quarry isn't the same, though the goal is similar. The movie takes bits from a few of the books and patches together a plot of its own, while maintaining the overall feel of O'Brian's work in a way that made this fan happy. And likewise, I believe fans of the movie should find plenty of enjoyment in these books.
My review of book nine:
Treason's Harbor
My review of book eleven:
The Reverse of the Medal -
Come all you thoughtless
young men, a warning
take by me
And never leave your
happy homes to sail the
raging sea.
Episode number ten bring about a change of tack in the long journey of Captain Jack Aubrey and his friend, Doctor Stephen Maturin. It is time to sail away from the crowded and treacherous waters of the Mediterranean, from the cat-and-mouse games with French spies and frombureaucratic entanglements. "H.M.S. Surprise" is sent on a solitary mission to the far side of the world, there to give chase, capture or destroy an American frigate that is harrassing the British whaler ships in the South Pacific.
For me, this installment was one of the most anticipated developments since I first started the series and after watching the 2003 movie adaptation (which differs greatly from the book). I admire Patrick O'Brian's battle scenes and political acumen, but I remain more interested in the actual sailing of the ship, in the visits to exotic places, in the hardships of life aboard and in the sense of wonder at the diversity of life that Dr. Maturin and his friends keep fresh for voyage after voyage. That means that the long descriptive passages, the apparent lack of ship to ship action and the focus on personal dramas among the crew were added incentives to enjoy the trip. I can understand how some reviewers might feel slightly disappointed by the routines of very long voyages, especially if they start the journey here instead of with "Master and Commander", but I rate this book among my personal favorites, one of the most dramatic (weather-wise) and hilarious Aubrey-Maturin adventure so far.
I have never known any commission with so much weather in it. exclaims Jack Aubrey towards the end of the voyage.
Becalmed in the Atlantic doldrums, struck by lightning, stranded on a sand bank in Recife, frozen and battered close to the Antarctic, waterless near Galapagos, tossed around like a kid's toy by a typhoon in the middle of nowhere, marrooned on a hostile island : I start to wonder how can the journey be called uneventful. And how can people still crack jokes when only a 'nine-inch plank' stands between them and eternity?
Yet some of the most memorable scenes in the book, after the descriptions of stormy weather, are the tribulations of landlubbers trying to make sense of nautical jargon and trying to convince the sailors to take some time-off for scientific exploration. Stephen gets a sidekick, in the person of pastor Martin, a fellow naturalist and a man with two left feet. Every time these two companions step ashore something dangerous is bound to happen, like trying to catch a boa constrictor bare-handed:
I saw that Martin was clinging to its neck with both hands and I represented to him that this was rash, heedless, imprudent. I should have gone on to remind him of the fate of Laocoon, but a coil tightening under my chin cut me short. In gasps he replied that this was a boa - boas were notoriously good-natured - he only wished to see its vestigial hind-legs - he was not hurting it.
The equanimity and good nature of these highly educated landlubbers is tested almost on daily basis, as they are constantly about to be tossed overboard by a swinging spar, baffled by the jargon or distracted by passing birds and sea creatures. Under the pen of O'Brian even the insult have style:
a wicked contumelious discontended froward mutinous dog (this for Jack who refused a dinner invitation from his Admiral because he had a date with a lady)
- - - -
"Oh you wicked mutinous dogs, sons of everlasting whores." (this from a twelve years old midshipman berating his crew of old hands)
I thought, halfway through the series, that I was getting familiar with the various parts of the rigging and with the operation of a frigate. The author is still gleefulyy crushing my hopes for a comission in the Royal Navy with dialogues like these:
Yarrow said, 'I dare say they are hauling away the cat before hooking on the fish.'
Pocock said, 'Perhaps they will stopper with a dog.'
Stephen said, 'It is my belief that they have raised a mouse, and that having seized it with a fox they will clap on a lizard.'
'Lord, what a jargon the honest creatures have invented, upon my word,' said Pocock, laughing heartily for the first time in Stephen's acquaintance with him. 'were your terms authentic?'
'They were indeed,' said Stephen. 'And there are hounds too, somewhere about the masts.'
Later on, Jack Aubrey gives a lecture to his young midshipmen about the finer points of lifting an anchor:
They followed him to the mangerboard, where he observed, 'This is a voyol. Watch now! He makes it fast to the cable - he reeves the jeer-fall through it - the jeer-fall is brought to its capstan, with the standing part belayed to the bitts. So you get a direct runner-purchase instead of a dead nip, do you understand?'
I am never sure when the author is pulling my leg. In the past, I have known Maturin to invent nautical terms in order to impress his land-bound academic colleagues. with other obscure words, I am luckyer. For example, 'a glass of sillery' is a reference to a sweet white wine from the Marne region of France, a favourite at the captain's table aboard the HMS Surprise. I have remarked before, and this episode is no exception : the research into early 19 century sailing is flawless, the wealth of detail in unparallelled in any other historical fiction I have tried.
One such reference, and another hilarious episode for the modern reader, is the method Stephen Maturin has discovered for controlling his addiction to opium. A friendly explorer, returning from a crossing of the Andes, is offering Stephen a stimulant much in favour with the natives of the Altiplano:
Ever since the first acullico that you were so good as to give me I have felt my mind glow, my mental and no doubt physical powers increase. I have little doubt that I could swim the river that lies before us. I shall not do so, however. I prefer to enjoy our conversation and my present state of remarkable well-being - no fatigue, no hunger, no perplexity of mind, but a power of apprehension and synthesis that I have rarely known before. Your coca, sir, is the most virtuous simple I have ever met with.
Dr. Maturin's opinion was widely shared by the rest of the medical community until advances in the refinement of the active ingredient led to abuse and even more serious addictions. The joke may be on me, since doctor's claimed benefits of chewing the natural coca leaves are still considered valid today.
The far side of the world may hold less possibilities for open conflict, with so many thousands of miles for the American frigate to hide in, but it is unrivalled in the potential for study of the natural world. The conversations about whaling, ambergris, blue-legged boobies, turtles, iguanas, sharks, plankton, arthropodes, etc are both educational and entertaining, when viewed from the deck of a period sailing ship:
Alongside he was, and vast he was: a sperm whale with his great blunt squared-off head abreast of the forechains, his dark body streaming aft far along the quarterdeck, perhaps seventy-five or even eighty feet of massive creature, giving such an impression of tranquil strength the ship seemed frail beside him.
The conflict between scientific curiosity and millitary expediency threatens at one point the long-lasting friendship between Jack and Stephen. Who wouldn't get angry when required to abandon the glorious diversity of the Galapagos islands without even putting a foot on shore? All because some big boys like to chase around the high seas and destroy one another with broadsides. Oh, well, I hope the good doctor and his friend Martin will have better luck in the Marquesas, one of the possible destinations of the voyage:
I have heard differing and often muddle-headed accounts of the islanders' polity, but all agree that it pays great attention to various prohibitions or taboos and to relationship; and all agree that the people are most uncommonly amiable and good-looking, their only faults being cannibalism and unlimited fornication.
Science requires sacrifices, and the naive Martin has his eyes opened to the women emancipation movement in a most painful manner ( I am trying to be obscure here, but I can't stop laughing as I see the galant pastor ). Dr. Maturin patches him up, and he tries to explain to Martin, still a bachelor, that women should be treated equally and offered the same opportunities and leeway as men:
'I have him in my crow's-bill. A shark's tooth, as I had supposed, detached from the club and driven into the gluteus maximus to a most surprising depth. The question is, what shark?'
'May I see it?' asked Martin in a reasonably firm voice. He had already had thirty-six stitches in his scalp, while a square foot of court plaster covered his lacerated shoulders, but he was a man of some fortitude, and above all a natural philosopher. 'A shark without a doubt, but what shark I cannot tell. However, I shall keep it in my snuff-box, and look at it whenever I think abot matrimony. Whenever I think about women, indeed.
I have left out of my review the personal dramas of the sailors and officers, and the final battle, considering them to spoilerish to discuss here. At the end of the lecture, the image I would like to keep in my memory is the reaffirmation of the power of friendship to survive the occasional stormy weather. I am glad that Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin can get over their differences and that they will be our guides to the far corners of the world for another ten novels:
Night after night they played there in the great cabin with the stern-windows open and the ship's wake flowing away and away in the darkness. Few things gave them more joy; and although they were as unlike in nationality, education, religion, appearance and habit of mind as two men could well be, they were wholly at one when it came to improvising, working out variations on a theme, handing them to and fro, conversing with violin and cello. -
“Martin was a thoroughly amiable man, a man of wide reading, but when he came to write he mounted upon a pair of stilts, unusually lofty stilts, and staggered along at a most ungracious pace, with an occasional awkward lurch into colloquialism, giving a strikingly false impression of himself.”
― Patrick O'Brian, The Far Side of the World
'The Far Side of the World' is driven by a fairly simple plot. It is a chase, a hunt, a sea race from Gibraltar, down around Cape Horn into the Pacific. The Surprise has been tasked with intercepting the American frigate the Norfolk as it hunts for British whalers in the Great South Sea on the Far Side of the World. The benefit of this novel's simple plot structure is it really boils the book down to what makes the series great: O'Brian's nautical prose and the relationship between Dr. Stephen Maturin and Captain Jack Aubrey.
The relationship between Maturin and Aubrey is one that captures the unique relationship that forms between some men in battle, war, etc., that seems to almost transcend relationships of blood or the liquid link of lovers. Some of the most touching parts of this novel are those lines where Captain Aubrey recognizes how his role as captain requires him to do something that will cause distress or pain to Dr. Maturin. The affection is real. It is honest. It is mature. The amazing thing is this type of love between men almost NEVER gets exposed in modern literature or art. Again, I say almost because there are example, but the great thing about this series is O'Brian lets this relationship grow and develop and adds complexities to it that are unparalleled anywhere in literature.
I also adore how these two men explore two great models* of masculinity. Captain Aubrey (to me) represents almost a Ruler form of masculinity while Doctor Maturin represents the Explorer form. These two men, with these two very distinct FORMS and WAYS of BEING men are able to interact, cooperate, resolve conflict, etc., through their linked affection, to a world at war and a world unknown. I read these novels and I believe there is nothing that Victorian rules and the Age of Enlightenment can't accomplish.
* Borrowing a bit from Clare W. Graves here. -
L'inizio trasuda stanchezza tanto è loffio e piatto; e anche pedante per via di spiegazioncine e incisi vari che fanno il riassuntino dell'episodio precedente. Più l'autore si affanna a voler mostrare un Capitano Aubrey che va di corsa da un capo all'altro del porto per portare a termine tutte le incombenze ("non c'è un momento da perdere!", chi ha già letto qualche volume sa che questo potrebbe essere il motto della serie) e più il lettore si sente impiombato a terra qual granitico basamento.
Ma non appena la navigazione prende il via, ecco che tutto cambia, proprio come una vela che infine trova il vento: la sensazione è così netta e precisa che sospetto O'Brian abbia fatto tutto questo a bella posta.
Si resterà in alto mare fino alla fine del racconto, nell'attesa di una risoluzione che giungerà bruscamente solo con le ultimissime righe: peccato anzi che l'autore non si sia preso un paio di pagine di spazio in più per mettere "a sedere" quel finale con più agio a far gustare maggiormente il piacere al lettore.
Ma va bene così, la morale è che nonostante queste due "pecche" riguardanti le primissime e le ultimissime pagine, quello che c'è nel mezzo è probabilmente il migliore tra tutti i libri della serie letti fino ad ora. L'amicizia, la vita di bordo, gli inseguimenti, le superstizioni, le tempeste improvvise e tanto ancora di più, le pagine solari e le pagine cupe, i dialoghi costruiti ottimamente, con i personaggi che parlano in maniera credibilmente ottocentesca ma comunque colloquiale, non falsamente pomposa e mai didascalica; e il tutto impostato con la splendida grazia di sempre.
Una larghissima parte dei personaggi qui presenti si ritroveranno poi nel film di Peter Weir del 2003, e devo prendermi lo spazio per segnare una nota di merito anche per il lavoro fatto dagli sceneggiatori del film: hanno combinato gli episodi giusti nel modo giusto.
Di solito mi ritrovo a criticare la sceneggiatura della trasposizione cinematografica del libro perché quasi sempre va a storpiare la trama originale per piegarla in favore del pattern classico hollywoodiano. Qui è successo l'esatto contrario: hanno modificato allo scopo di discostarsi dal plot classico e stereotipato, hanno tagliato tutte quelle scene che nel libro risultano divertenti o comunque condimenti necessari, ma che nel film avrebbero assunto troppo presto l'aria da commedia di second'ordine. La scrematura fatta con cognizione di causa ha permesso di ottenere un risultato cinematografico raffinato tanto quanto il libro (anzi, i libri).
E' valsa la pena di imbarcarsi in una serie tanto lunga, fosse anche soltanto per la soddisfazione di arrivare a gustarsi appieno un'avventura come questa. Giudizio finale: non meno di 4,5 stelle. -
It's always nice to revisit Aubrey and Maturin. I've only read a couple books from this series, and I never feel any serious need to find more installments, but I always enjoy them when I do. And this is one of the best ones - not only because it's pretty similar to the movie version and picking out what they changed/didn't change for the adaptation is a fun game, but also for other reasons, which I will now list:
-Plots! So many plots. Almost too many plots.
This book is just over four hundred pages, and there is A LOT happening. The main story concerns the Surprise trying to track an American ship, the Norfolk, around South American (the movie changed the bad guys into Frenchmen, first because it connects better to the threat of Napoleon and also AMERICA FUCK YEAH). But there's more. Maturin has a spying subplot, as he often does, and there's a nice scene where Jack helps him figure out where a secret letter has been hidden. Then the Surprise itself is a little fuller than usual, as the ship is carrying a bunch of twelve-year-olds who are learning about ship life (let's call them interns), which was included in the movie - but there's also a bunch of crewmen who were recruited from an insane asylum, and also two crewmen bring their wives along. So in addition to the multiple plots, we also have a ton of characters to keep track of, but luckily they're all a lot of fun. Also we have the tension created between Maturin and Aubrey when Aubrey cancels the former's day trip to the shore and Maturin gets all huffy about it. And there's a big scandal where one of the crewmen has an affair with one of the women and it does not end well. And towards the end of the book Aubrey and Maturin fall overboard (or, more accurately, Maturin falls overboard and Aubrey jumps in to save him) and are lost at sea, and then rescued by a boat crewed entirely by Polynesian women who plan to castrate them (why the hell was that not in the movie?). And then Aubrey captures a bunch of prisoners and the crew of the captured ship and the Surprise have to stay on an island together while Aubrey tries to keep everyone from killing each other.
Quick - without looking, tell me the name of the American ship they're trying to catch. See what I mean about almost too many plots? It can be hard to keep up with, but luckily it's all very exciting and well-written, so even if you're not 100% sure what's going on, you're still having a good time.
-Lots of fun details
O'Brian's books are always impressively researched, but it seemed like there was an extra amount of good insider information about ships in the 1800s here. There are details about the Sunday services given on English ships (sailors were woken up half an hour earlier, to give them time to clean up for services), the sheer number of different people who traveled on ships (see: crewmen's wives and the interns, and it's very cute because the two women are in charge of the kids' lessons onboard), and the ceremonies involved in taking a ship and its crew prisoner. I also now exactly what grog is - I always knew it was watered-down rum, but apparently they also added lemon juice and sugar to it, and someone should really put that in a Mason jar and sell it to hipsters for $15. Additionally, there are a lot of descriptions about the food served on the ship, like this passage about the meal served at a fancy dinner in Aubrey's cabin:
"'Mr. Martin,' said Jack, after the chaplain had said grace, 'It occurred to me that perhaps you might not yet have seen lobscouse. It is one of the oldest of the forecastle dishes, and eats very savory when it is well made: I used to enjoy it prodigiously when I was young. Allow me to help you to a little.'
Alas, when Jack was young he was also poor, often penniless; and this was a rich man's lobscouse, a Lord Mayor's lobscouse. Orrage had been wonderfully generous with his slush, and the liquid fat stood half an inch deep over the whole surface, while the potatoes and pounded biscuit that ordinarily made up the bulk of the dish could scarcely be detected at all, being quite overpowered by the fat meat, fried onions, and powerful spices."
...yum? Either way, you gotta admire the detail that went into this book. O'Brian knows his stuff.
And now we come to my favorite aspect of this book.
-Ladies! (yeah!) Ladies! (yeah!)
In addition to the two women on board the Surprise (one of whom gets a really good, albeit tragic, subplot where she has an affair with one of the crewmen), there's the previously-mentioned bit where Aubrey and Maturin get rescued by a ship of Polynesian women. Polynesian women who decorate the masthead of their ship with the severed dicks of their victims. Also one of the women jumps into the ocean and kills a shark with a knife.
Okay, on the one hand, I understand why this was left out of the movie version, because it would be a total distraction from the whole let's-get-the-French plot. But on the other hand, where is my movie about a ship full of castrating Polynesian women! Scratch that, I want a miniseries.
Anyway, that entire subplot is awesome, and combined with the two women who travel on the Surprise, completely obliterates the argument that female characters don't belong in seafaring stories because "it's not historically accurate!" Check and mate, says O'Brian. Also the Polynesian women are fantastic because they prompt this conversation between Stephen Maturin and another man, which I will reproduce in its entirety because that's how happy it made me:
"'No,' said Martin, 'I saw nothing but a swarthy crew of ill-looking female savages, full of maligned fury, a disgrace to their sex.'
'I dare say they had been ill-used, the creatures,' said Stephen.
'Perhaps they had,' said Martin. 'But to carry resentment to the point of the emasculation you described seems to me inhumane, and profoundly wicked.'
'Oh, as far as unsexing is concerned, who are we to throw stones? With us any girl that cannot find a husband is unsexed. If she is very high or very low she may go her own way, with the risks entailed therein, but otherwise she must either have no sex or be disgraced. She burns, and she is ridiculed for burning. To say nothing of male tyranny - a wife or a daughter being a mere chattel in most codes of law or custom - and brute force - to say nothing of that, hundreds of thousands of girls are unsexed every generation: and barren women are as much despised as eunuchs. I do assure you, Martin, that if I were a woman I should march out with a flaming torch and a sword; I should emasculate right and left.'"
(at this point, I have to point out that earlier in the book Maturin refuses to perform an abortion on a woman who tells him that her husband will literally kill her if he finds out she's pregnant, so way to put your money where your mouth is, douche. But the speech is still awesome, and Maturin is still great.) -
Captain Aubrey of the British Royal Navy is sent to the South Seas to prevent the American frigate Norfolk from harassing English whalers. It's an excellent book all around, but there are moments of pure perfection in it. The prim parson Martin shows Maturin the letter he wants to woo his lady-love with, it's horrifyingly bad, Maturin tries to tell him so as gently as possible, and Martin completely refuses to hear it. Or at one point Maturin falls out of the cabin window while Aubrey is talking. Aubrey immediately realizes what happens and, without a moment's hesitation, dives in after him, for Maturin is so uncoordinated that he could drown in only an inch of water. Later, upon finding entering the cabin and finding both Aubrey and Maturin missing, their shipmate immediately knows that Maturin fell out of the ship and Aubrey went after him. And of course the ending is basically the best ending of all endings in the entire world.
I will note that this book contains Maturin once again refusing to help a woman have an abortion. It's a particularly bad situation because he's pretty sure that her sterile husband will kill her once he finds she's pregnant. My frustration with him was mitigated somewhat when, later in the novel, he goes on a several minute tirade about how shitty the patriarchy is for women. But still. Maturin, get your shit together. -
Read this book in 2008, and its the 10th wonderful volume of the awesome "Aubrey/Maturin" series.
With the War against France of Napoleon Bonaparte still going on in AD 1812, Aubrey and Maturin re set on a mission towards Cape Horn.
While arriving at Cape Horn, Aubrey and his crew willencounter a powerful American frigate, intending on disrupting the British whale trade, while at the same time Maturin has his own tough secret dealings within the world of intelligence.
Not only the Americans will play havoc with Aubrey and his crew, but in the Great South Sea and the Pacific, disasters will occur in the sense of typhoons, criminal insanity, murder and shipwrecks.
What is to follow as a whole is an intriguing and thrilling seafaring tale, in which Aubrey and Maturin have to deal with their own problems and solve them in the end with resolution and determination, and all this is brought to us by the author in his own authentic and fabulous fashion.
Highly recommended, for this is another excellent addition to this amazing series, and that's why I like to call this episode: "A Superb Aubrey & Maturin Seafaring Adventure"! -
Call me Ishmael! I think of this one as "Jack and Stephen Meet Moby Dick." They spend the first half of the book chasing an American frigate through whaling waters, gathering information from those they come across much the way Melville handled the bulk of his Great American Novel. Of course, that's not all. There's a tragic affair, impotence, murder, suicide, men overboard, cannibals, shipwreck ... Culminating in a final chapter that's as suspenseful as any sea battle. God, I love these books!
-
3 – 3.5 stars
In _The Far Side of the World_ Aubrey is given the opportunity for perhaps one last mission aboard his beloved Surprise before having to take it back to England for decomissioning and is sent on a mission literally to the far side of the world around Cape Horn in pursuit of an American frigate, the USS Norfolk, that has been sent on a mission to disrupt British whaling and trade in the South Pacific. It is a long voyage, and one that gives O’Brian plenty of time to tease out quite a few plotlines.
In one, a down on his luck and aging midshipman, Hollom, is taken on board by Jack against his better judgement. The man is somewhat incompetent and considered unlucky (a ‘Jonah’) by most of the crew, but he still manages to ingratiate himself with the young wife of the ship’s new (and somewhat surly and violent) gunner, instigating an affair that is an open secret to nearly everyone on board and which leads to an inevitable conclusion. Other new crew members include Michael Allen, the ship’s new master and an old whaler very familiar with the waters to which they are sailing, and our old friend Mr. Martin who is acting as chaplain and schoolmaster to the younger midshipmen, though really along in the hopes that he will be able to indulge in the pursuit of natural philosophy with his like-minded friend and compatriot Stephen Maturin.
By this point we all know that poor Stephen is a hopeless landlubber who can fall out of a stationary boat docked in harbour, so the fact that he has several serious tumbles in this novel will come as no surprise, but he has some real doozies this time around, both of which lead to some awkward social situations. One of them involving a window, some phosphorescent sea creatures, and the deep blue sea leads to a most interesting adventure into which Jack is pulled in the midst of shark infested waters and a boat peopled entirely by female natives with a less than kind view of the male gender, while another leads to a serious injury and a less than ideal situation for members of the Surprise’s crew on a desert island peopled by some not quite friendly castaways.
The vicissitudes of the weather and the cruel sea are front and centre in this novel and in the end the main conflict of the story revolves around battles against sea and circumstances as opposed to the great naval contest we had at first been led to expect given Jack’s mission. That being said, circumstances still manage to lead to a battle of sorts between the two opposing crews (British and American) that has an undeniable tension that ratchets up to a high pitch until the conlcusion. As with nearly all of the Aubrey-Maturin stories (as far as I can recall) the curtain falls rather abruptly when the denoument occurs, no doubt to encourage the reader to rush to the next volume in the series to see what happens next. I may end up being one of those! -
Not a lot of war or spying stuff going on for the most parts, just a lot of going about the seas, my favorite parts! Jack and Stephen lost at sea and Stephen on the verge of having his head operated on. The Surprise to the rescue and - the end. IS the war over?
As always, a stellar reading by Simon Vance. -
The Far Side of the World is the tenth of twenty novels in Patrick O'Brian's acclaimed Aubrey-Maturin naval adventure series. These novels focus on the friendship between Captain Jack Aubrey of the Royal Navy and his ship's surgeon Stephen Maturin. Richard Snow, writing for the New York Times, characterized the novels as "the best historical novels ever written.”
At the same time as the Napoleonic Wars, the War of 1812 is still troubling the British. Jack Aubrey, captain of HMS Surprise, is dispatched from Gibraltar to intercept the USS Norfolk, which the British have learned is being sent to harass British whalers in the South Pacific. Their journey takes them down the coast of Brazil, through the stormy waters off Cape Horn, to the Galapagos Islands and halfway across the Pacific to the vicinity of the Marquesas. Meanwhile, Dr. Maturin is engaging in some secret intelligence.
During their pursuit of the Norfolk , Captain Aubrey and the crew experience a series of problems and disasters— groundings, storms, a typhoon, murder, criminal insanity, men overboard, encounters with natives, men marooned, and shipwrecks. Consequently, each chapter seems to have something the crew must overcome. In one interesting scene, the characteristically clumsy Maturin falls into the water while fishing from the rear window of Aubrey’s cabin one evening. Realizing what has happened, Aubrey jumps in to rescue him. Unfortunately, nobody else on the ship is aware of what happened.
”But Killick turns in early, and as the weaker Stephen lapses into unconsciousness through the night while the two of them float alone in the terrifyingly enormous Pacific Ocean, Jack’s mathematical calculations of time and distance and drift and endurance lead him to a bleak conclusion. Aside from being engaging in itself, this scene is a wonderful demonstration of their friendship: Stephen’s awkwardness has in fact got them both killed, but this never crosses Jack’s consideration, never leads to any acrimony or recriminations, even privately. Instead, knowing that being adrift in the ocean is far more terrifying for his friend than for him, Jack never treats him with anything less than gentleness.”
While the story telling and writing is quite good within each of the scenes, the overall story left me unsatisfied. The novel does not feature any extended naval battles. The book doesn’t seem to advance the Aubrey/Maturin story; it amounts to a digression. The author seems more interested in characterization and historical detail than in exciting action sequences. Ultimately, The Far Side of the World is a story that will likely only satisfy those who already love the series.
The Far Side of the World -
Romanzo "classico" per chi è arrivato al decimo episodio della saga: l'inizio lento e un po' goffo, condito da riassuntini sgraziati e personaggi riemersi delle precedenti avventure; il viaggio in mare verso il profondo sud e poi risalendo verso nord alla ricerca della preda;
La capacità di O'Brian è sempre la stessa: ricostruire con gusto incredibile e grazia assoluta il mondo in cui sono ambientati i romanzi. E' l'accumula di dettagli precisi a fare la differenza tra una narrazione sciatta e tirata via, stereotipata insomma, e una ricostruzione vivida dell'epoca.
Ancor più straordinaria, è l'assoluta fluidità con cui O'Brian ci porta da considerazioni naturalistiche a inseguimenti nautici a ricostruzioni psicologiche dei comprimari, il tutto fuso in unicum davvero godibile.
Ho apprezzato anche il finale perché, nonostante l'assenza di azioni navale classica, è decisamente pieno di pathos e thriller.
E' commovente la dichiarazione dell'autore nella prefazione, in cui scrive esplicitamente che avrebbe iniziato la saga molto prima (non nel 1800-1801 ma almeno nel 1792-93) se avesse saputo prima del successo di pubblico e del divertimento provato nello scriverla. -
4,5/5
Prima le brutte notizie: siamo a metà serie, da questo momento in poi saranno sempre di più le pagine già lette di quelle ancora da leggere per arrivare alla fine della saga (non ho ancora capito se l'ultimo titolo è un romanzo completo o solo l'abbozzo cui stava lavorando l'autore al momento della sua morte). :-(
Se volete vi dico anche, udite udite, alcuni difetti di questa puntata.
La prima parte è un po' piatta (anche se per me è sempre divertente vedere Jack sulla terraferma che si sbatte tra i millemila contrattempi e intoppi che si incontrano nei preparativi per attrezzare una nave per un lungo viaggio: dà un'idea dell'enorme macchina organizzativa e burocratica, e per inciso una volta di più della profonda conoscenza di O'Brian su questo soggetto, e anche un'immagine un po' meno "perfetta" e impeccabile della Royal Navy), molto rallentata dalla preoccupazione di rimettere tutti i pezzi a posto sulla scacchiera per la nuova partita, di risolvere alcune questioni rimaste in sospeso dal libro precedente, di ricapitolare alcuni sviluppi che saranno presumibilmente portati avanti in seguito. Sono comunque cose che l'autore fa spesso, ma in genere gli riescono in modo più fluido di così.
E non mi è piaciuto moltissimo neanche il finale, per il motivo diametralmente opposto: è brusco e improvviso, non si può parlare di "cliffhanger" perché anzi in realtà (a quanto pare) l'intreccio si scioglie invece di complicarsi, però la tensione montata magistralmente fino a quel momento meritava una chiusa meno affrettata, si sgonfia invece in poche righe e si resta un po' desiderosi di qualcosa di più, di assistere anche al day-after di questa avventura, alle reazioni dei personaggi, mentre si posa la polvere dell'ultimo scontro. Probabile che nel prossimo libro la vicenda riprenderà esattamente da questo punto; ogni volta che finisco l'ultima pagina di un libro di O'Brian vengo presa dalla smania di iniziare il successivo, ma forse mai come stavolta, perché davvero la sensazione è di "non finito", che si sia chiuso un capitolo piuttosto che un intero romanzo.
Ma, detto questo, da qui in poi saranno solo lodi sperticate.
Ai confini del mare è un libro un po' diverso da quelli che lo precedono: come suggerisce il titolo, la Surprise (la vecchia, ma ancora efficientissima e amatissima nave comandata da Jack) è in missione in acque poco frequentate, l'Atlantico meridionale e, passato Capo Horn, l'Oceano Pacifico, a caccia di una nave da guerra americana fino alle Galápagos e alle isole della Polinesia. I combattimenti sul mare sono ridotti al minimo, e anche la trama spionistica resta sullo sfondo (c'è solo, all'inizio, un recap fatto dal narratore che ci ricorda che Maturin, di solito così perspicace, stavolta non ha la minima idea che sia al soldo dei francesi, mentre quest'ultimo ormai sa benissimo che il dottore è anche un agente segreto): dominano quindi i temi del viaggio, delle peripezie marinaresche, dell'esplorazione di terre e di acque ancora scarsamente conosciute, della ricerca della possibile rotta della nave nemica. Chiaramente Jack qui si trova perfettamente a suo agio, ed è un bene questo cambiamento dopo alcuni libri in cui a tratti appariva un po' sballottato e guidato da Stephen senza riuscire a capire bene cosa stesse succedendo, o impegnato in missioni frustranti e infruttuose. Questo libro è uno dei più splendidi esempi del suo valore e, mentre Stephen torna essenzialmente l'imbranato pesce fuor d'acqua che come si muove causa guai (e che guai, stavolta!), Jack veramente giganteggia, come uomo di mare, come soldato e stratega, come leader.
Come spesso accade nei libri di O'Brian, i viaggi dei protagonisti, pur scanditi, come l'autore ci tiene a ripetere, dall'immutabile routine della Royal Navy, tra turni di guardia, misurazioni, pulizia dei ponti, ecc. (ricordati spesso nei vari romanzi e però proprio questa loro familiarità ci fa sentire a casa, quasi "parte dell'equipaggio" col nostro "ruolo" di lettori), sono animati da tanti episodi particolari, il cui tono può variare molto, magari affidati a personaggi secondari, che talvolta verranno riproposti in seguito e talvolta invece non si rivedono più, e alle loro interazioni coi protagonisti. In Ai confini del mare si fanno notare il simpatico reverendo Martin (che avevamo già conosciuto), entusiasta compagno di Stephen nelle osservazioni naturalistiche e nelle discussioni filosofiche, la figura del nocchiero Allen, esperto baleniere, tanto timido e insicuro sulla terraferma quanto infallibile in acqua, capace di animarsi e affascinare l'uditorio con i suoi racconti sulla caccia alle balene (che introducono anche in un mondo diverso rispetto a quello della marina militare), e soprattutto, qui, il trio protagonista di uno dei momenti più cupi e tragici finora incontrati nella saga, che O'Brian sapientemente costruisce prima depistando leggermente il lettore, poi in modo all'inizio piuttosto innocuo e leggero, fa esplodere all'improvviso e poi fa seguire da una coda molto angosciante (e infine, come il paesaggio marino può cambiare in un istante, ).
Parliamo un po' di questo episodio che mi dà modo di introdurre una riflessione. Già nel precedente libro,
Il porto del tradimento, un tema ricorrente era stato quello del matrimonio e della fedeltà coniugale, e anche qui i personaggi spesso ci tornano sopra, e più in generale il libro si sofferma sulla condizione femminile e sulla violenza sulle donne. Con grande abilità O'Brian riesce a parlarne... anche senza quasi mai avere personaggi femminili presenti fisicamente in scena (il che direi che è comprensibile, vista l'ambientazione nel mezzo dell'oceano).
Ovviamente a questi temi è dedicato l'episodio cui accennavo sopra, il triangolo amoroso , sconvolgente non solo per il modo in cui si conclude e per l'ombra sinistra che getta sulla vita a bordo, ma anche e soprattutto per l'apatia e l'omertà dell'equipaggio, l'impressione quasi di ineluttabilità e "normalità" della vicenda, per il senso di ingiustizia che non può che avvertire il lettore moderno, che alla fine condivide la desolata impotenza di Jack (, p. 200).
È quasi quindi con un senso di giusta "rivalsa" che si seguono il successivo incontro tra Jack e Stephen e , quasi a dare l'idea di una donna non solo vittima della violenza altrui, e il botta e risposta tra Stephen (che è spesso la voce dell'autore in questi frangenti) e Martin originato dal comportamento non "convenzionale" della femmina del
falaropo.
Tanti matrimoni, o più in generale tante varianti dei rapporti uomo/donna presenti nelle menti dei protagonisti e dell'autore, la coppia sempre un po' burrascosa composta da , l'occhio sempre "vagante" di Jack ormai da lunghi mesi lontano da casa, Laura Fielding e suo marito che finalmente si riuniscono e sono in grado di chiarire le incomprensioni, la signora Horner vittima di un marito violento, Elena di Troia e le conseguenze funeste dell'adulterio e le donne polinesiane che scelgono di vivere senza uomini. Non mi stupirei se, visti tutti questi "indizi", ci saranno a breve sviluppi nelle vicende sentimentali dei protagonisti.
Passando ad altro... Non posso non fare menzione del fatto che questo libro mi offre la scena che ho sempre sognato, e cioè... !!!!!!!! Ovviamente a causa della sua imbranataggine, Stephen . Le lacrime quando Stephen dice a Jack: "Ti sono profondamente grato, Jack, perché mi sostieni in questo modo" (p. 241). Le lacrime. Segue la bizzarra parentesi .
Caro O'Brian, da vero suddito britannico hai fin troppo... understatement, perché, laddove altri autori si sarebbero divertiti a "torturarci" divinamente ricamando sulla vicenda nel modo più tragico e ricco di suspence possibile, tu risolvi tutto con calma veramente "british", ma noi volevamo seguire l'avventura sull'isola e i battibecchi tra i due ancora per pagine e pagine!
E però riesci lo stesso a trasmetterci il senso del pericolo corso descrivendo, stavolta sì nel dettaglio, la commovente e contagiosa gioia del buon Jack che si risveglia, la mattina dopo , nella sua cabina, con i suoni familiari della nave e degli uomini al lavoro, e assapora tutto il piacere di fare i gesti e le operazioni di sempre, di essere vivo, lì, in quel momento, pur con tutti i problemi e i casini, sul mare e sulla terraferma, della sua vita. Lacrime anche qui.
Il terzo e ultimo momento di questo libro si svolge sull'isolotto di Old Sodbury, a sud delle Isole Marchesi, dove finalmente si conclude il lungo inseguimento della nave americana Norfolk, con una sorpresa: gli americani hanno fatto naufragio e i sopravvissuti sono bloccati sull'isola... apparentemente, e contro ogni aspettativa, non proprio entusiasti del fatto che i loro "salvatori" siano gli inglesi della Surprise. L'ostilità è talmente palpabile che Jack capisce ben presto che qualcosa non va, e siccome pure lui, per una serie di sfortunate circostanze, finisce per trovarsi bloccato lì con pochi uomini, le cose rischiano di mettersi male.
Il sipario si chiude, come dicevo all'inizio, fin troppo bruscamente. L'avventura continua!
Il mio desiderio per la prossima puntata è che ci sia una buona fetta di tempo trascorso sulla terraferma: stanno "maturando" varie cose che sarebbe interessante prima o poi esplorare (come va il matrimonio di Stephen e Diana? E i debiti di Jack? E suo padre in Parlamento che sta combinando? E soprattutto come andrà a finire con ?), anche se mi rendo conto che, per citare proprio Jack, "l'elemento naturale" suo e di questi libri è il mare.
P.S. Ai confini del mare, che è il decimo romanzo della serie, e il primo, Primo comando, sono le basi per il film Master and Commander, di Peter Weir: la trama è un mix di questi due libri. Quindi, ora che sono arrivata a questo punto con la lettura, potrei anche rivederlo senza temere spoiler, ma... perché farlo?
Lo vidi all'epoca al cinema, e mi piacque, ma ormai sono immersa nella saga di Aubrey e Maturin in modo completo e totalizzante, e non voglio che il film, per quanto ben fatto, rovini qualcosa o si sovrapponga troppo alle mie immagini mentali dei libri. -
This is a book that calls for a breakdown in the rating. There are aspects of it that probably deserve a three at best. The plot itself isn't actually all that compelling: the story simply plods along from one adventure or crisis to the next, framed by the overarching back-cover-synopsis plot (which occupies remarkably little of the book). The characters are memorable, but I can't think of a single one that really develops during the story. But what brings the overall rating up to five stars is the author's incredible use of language. The characters speak from the page as vividly as the best of Twain's. The wit and wordplay is top-notch. It's such a delight to read that I found myself constantly wanting to read passages aloud to people around me. I've not had such simple fun reading a book in a long time, and I can't wait to read some more in the (prolific) series.
-
Yes, two stars.
Nobody could doubt the amount of legwork O'Brian does when writing his novels. His trouble is he that leaves virtually all of it in, without digesting the pertinent bits, to the detriment of his story. It's like looking at a building with the scaffolding still intact on opening day. This is a real pity because the most immersive parts are about the simplest things - how a pie is prepared at sea and what it tastes like, the amount of oil a sperm whale provides - coming out naturally in scraps of dinner-table talk, as in real life. I wish the rest had been like that. -
Excellent social commentary well-couched, with very well distinguished voices.
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https://poseidons99.wordpress.com/202... -
4* Master and Commander (Aubrey & Maturin, #1)
4* H.M.S. Surprise (Aubrey & Maturin #3)
3* The Mauritius Command (Aubrey & Maturin #4)
3* Desolation Island (Aubrey & Maturin #5)
3* The Fortune of War (Aubrey & Maturin #6)
3* The Surgeon's Mate (Aubrey & Maturin #7)
3* The Far Side of the World (Aubrey & Maturin #10)
TR Treason's Harbour (Aubrey & Maturin #9) -
I was going to do what I usually do and just copypaste what I wrote in my LJ at the time I was actually reading the book, only to find out that my review for Chapter 3 ALONE was already far over the character limit here. Sigh!
Instead I'll just copy my love-rant I wrote when I had just read Chapter 4 and his and Stephen's distracted duet. It'll have to do.
'You are not offended by my moss, Stephen, are you?' asked Jack.
You can't not love the man in moments like this. I am of a mind to challenge the entire world not to like Jack and still remain confident that not a single person will succeed. Lord, he is so amazing, you just want to be close to him and bask in the glow that is Jackness. Jack is LIFE. I think it is the fact that Jack loves life and he thoroughly shows it that draws you in. There was a bit in The Mauritius Command where Stephen was comparing Jack to Clonfert and talked of a "Jack who has never played a part in his life, who has no need for any role". It's that kind of honesty and openness that just sucks you in, regardless of the less admirable parts of his personality and regardless of the less positive things that his kind of simplicity can entail. You love him because he loves readily and unconditionally, you love him because he takes such obvious delight in his jokes, in his ship, in his life, in his morning coffee. You love him because he disregards Killick when he's being particularly shrewish and Stephen when he is the same. You love him because he honestly wishes the best for everyone. You love him because he loves Sophie. You love him because he loves Stephen. You love him because he would love you if he knew you and because he would naturally expect to be loved back but still be so utterly delighted that you would. You love that he turns red and wheezes when he laughs, and that the snores when he sleeps. You love that he takes his officers under his wing and feels their fortune as keenly as his own. You love that he professes not to be superstitious and is still every inch the sailor. You love that he wears his hair long and his hat athwart. You love that he can have mindless flings but does feel guilty over Mrs Smith. You love the way he revives when he gets another letter from Sophie. You love how he could never leave the sea to stay with her, even though you might want him to sometimes. You love his attention to gunnery and his devotion to his men. You love how he can get more speed out of every scrap of sail than anyone else. You love him when there is not a trace to be seen of the child in him and you love when there is nothing else to be seen but the child in him. You love that he will never say die. You love that he can be so boorish one instant and then turn around and play this most delicate of instruments and it somehow doesn't seem odd at all. You love that he can be Goldilocks and Lucky Jack and Captain Jno. Aubrey and just plain old Jack all rolled into one. You love that he can be larger than life, and still be so horribly inept. You love... I have no words. My head is aswim with what I want to say and I can't get it articulated properly. It's the sight of him holding on to the corner of a desk red-faced and wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, it's him sitting immovable and wet with morning dew in the maintop, his eyes trained on the shore and his hand clamped tight around a telescope, it's the intensity and focus that seems to emanate from him when he's about to engage a ship. It's all this and so much more and it's wrapped up in this generous great big mass of yellow-topped goodness that you can't help but want to crawl up next to.
Lord, how I love that man. I'm sorry, I'll shut up now. I got carried away. I just... it's been a while since I cared this much for a book. -
This is the book that provides the largest chunk of plot for the movie, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. Jack Aubrey and the crew of the Surprise pursue their enemy around stormy Cape Horn, and naturalist Stephen Maturin is furious at being denied the opportunity to spend time on the amazing Galapagos Islands. During the journey there is drama on board concerning an unlucky “old” Midshipman who is considered a Jonah by the superstitious crew.
The plot of the book differs, of course. The story takes place during the War of 1812, that “absurd, unnecessary war”, and the enemy is not a Frenchman but the USS Norfolk. The old midshipman is not only unlucky but unwise enough to sleep with the wife of the very dangerous gunner, with tragic consequences.
Dr. Maturin is practically a feminist for this time period, but there is a memorable scene where
The sequence where Stephen falls off the ship, Jack dives in after him, and they are semi-rescued by a group of hostile islander women, is rather silly; but it’s worth it for Stephen’s complete trust in Jack’s false reassurances of rescue, and for Mowett’s reaction when he first spots the open window in the empty great cabin. (“The doctor!”)
I’ve read this before in print, and I’m not a big fan of audiobooks, but it’s great to hear the nautical aspects of these stories read aloud. -
Oh my, I haven't finished it yet but it's definitely going to be 5 stars just for the adventure and the turn of events that almost made me miss my station twice today. I was "mighty glad" as Jack Aubrey would have said that there are more books to come so I was certain they would survive. The question was how. This might have been the first time I wished some part of the story were told from some other than Jack or Stephen's perspective.
The characters, dialogues and descriptions are as enjoyable as ever. With each successive book I understand that it is such a pleasure to read about people (though, unfortunately, fictional) who are professional and competent at what they do, authoritative and imposing, shrewish or outgoing, a close-knit group with their ups and downs who care about each other deeply.
One is extremely lucky to have someone to dive after them. -
Wer den Film gesehen und daraufhin den Roman gelesen hat, wird verwirrt sein. Denn die Handlung des Films entspricht nicht der des Romans. Man hat einfach Motive aus anderen Teilen der Reihe im Film "verbaut" und sogar einzelne Figuren verändert. Leider merkt man das, denn wer den Film sieht, denkt sich "Hä?" und wer die Bücher kennt, denkt sich "What?!?".
Aber egal. Es wird wieder abenteuerlich, man trifft wieder auf seine Lieblinge und wohnt Jack und Stephen bei ihren legendären Streits bei. -
owl-faced night ape
forever prancing on a line between "perfectly rendered historical adventure" and "deathless art on about the burden of possessing a human brain/heart/genitals." rooting for the royal navy is problematic in a lot of ways, which is why its good that novels are made up lies about imaginary people, even if the imagination has many flavor notes in common with one particularly popular iteration of the multiverse. this one has jokes galore, melodrama, allegory, multiple castaway sequences, owl-faced night apes, trepanning, stephen falling off things, a doomed love story, a goat, a cat, and a prolonged three stooges style slapstick brawl. also a dude gets disembowled. five thousand stars -
This was one of the best yet! Really enjoy O'Brian style of telling and showing the story with his in-depth description of Naval procedures and life aboard a man of war. This adds to the story and give the reader a full experience that not many writers can do!
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Far different from the film, which is to be expected, and yet another volume that is more bound chapters than self-contained story.
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Smashed the majority of this on a week deserved chill out day and it just kept on giving and giving. The mission was a drawn out affair but presented opportunities and adventure at every corner that Aubrey took and embraced. Sea chases around the Southern Ocean were bound to be exciting and this was no exception.
I could have read and read this perpetually. -
No women are major characters in this volume of Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin’s adventures during the War of 1812, but women are central to parts of the action, even though the story takes place entirely on and around the frigate H.M.S. Surprise, which Aubrey commands. Needless to say, naval practices were different 200 years ago. Along with two women, the Surprise is carrying a cat belonging to the bosun, a goat named Aspasia to provide milk, and a handful of other animals taken along as food. Though one of the women (whose name already escapes me) plays only a small and benign role, the gunner’s wife, Mrs. Horner, proves to be a dangerous temptation for another member of the crew, and mayhem results. What’s more, when two members of the crew fall overboard in the Pacific one night and are left behind (during which one of them observes that the sea is as warm as milk, a nice telltale reminder of the absence of refrigeration), they’re plucked from the water the next morning by a small band of oceangoing women warriors, who dispatch sharks with ease and are inclined to do the same to the crewmen. Knowing little of South Seas anthropology, I can’t judge whether this fantastical episode draws on fact or fancy, but it reads like a believable surprise, and it prompts a short proto-feminist response from Maturin, who ends by declaring that “If I were a woman I should march out with a flaming torch and a sword; I should emasculate right and left.”
It’s not only women who upset the desired order of things among the men who constitute our central characters. The mission of the Surprise, based in Gibraltar as the tale begins, is to go in search of an American frigate that, according to an intelligence report, is heading to the Pacific to wreak havoc on British whalers there. Thus the Surprise and her crew confront the stifling heat and lack of wind in the horse latitudes; a squall that rips the bowsprit away (while the ship is refitting up a river in Brazil, Maturin meets a Peruvian who introduces him to the coca leaf); the howling winds and icy temperatures off Cape Horn; the quest for food and water, which leads to a spell at Juan Fernandez Island; a pass through the Galapagos Islands (already renowned to naturalists decades before Darwin’s visit), which Maturin and his friend Martin are allowed to see but forbidden to explore; and the seemingly impossible task of finding one particular ship in the ocean.
O’Brian’s language is one of the pleasures of this series. Here, three relative landlubbers take a swipe at the nautical terminology in which these stories abound:Now there was a pause, and Yarrow said, “I dare say they are hauling away the cat before hooking on the fish.”
Pocock said, “Perhaps they will stopper with a dog.”
Stephen said, “It is my belief that they have raised a mouse, and that having seized it with a fox they will clap on a lizard.”
“Lord, what jargon the honest creatures have invented, upon my word,” said Pocock, laughing heartily for the first time in Stephen’s acquaintance with him. “Were your terms authentic?”
“They were indeed,” said Stephen. “And there are hounds too, somewhere about the masts.”
“So were my cat and fish,” said Yarrow.
A practiced reader of the series will suspect that these landsmen have got the words right but misapprehended their usage. Practically everyone will know what Jack has gotten wrong when he observes to Stephen, “But there are more things than heaven and earth, you know.” And those with a taste for the prose and narrative style of times past will appreciate O’Brian’s way of condensing a discussion into the sort of catalogue that (in my experience) more often appeared at the head of a section or chapter. Maturin and Martin are studying the plates of a particular giant tortoise of the Galapagos Islands through telescopes:…comparing them with those of Testudo aubreii, which Maturin had discovered, described and named,… and with the thin-shelled and lighter though still respectable tortoise of Rodriguez. Reflections upon insular tortoises, their origin — tortoises in general, whether deaf — their voices rarely heard — capable of a harsh cry however as well as the more usual hiss — all oviparous, careless of their young — crocodiles more diligent as parents — but tortoises more generally sympathetic — perfectly capable of attachment — instances of affection in tortoises.
To employ a more modern expression, gotta love it. -
Reaching and completing this book in the series is 20 years in the making. To finally finish the signature namesake for one of my favorite films Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World. It did not disappoint. The ending was quite unexpected. I was thankful that most of this book was spent at sea on the mission, and not on land.
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Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey/Maturin series is one of my favourites of all time. Despite initially not having much of a clue what the many, different sailing terms meant, somewhere in the first instalment I fell hook, line and sinker for the characters – particularly for the delightfully grumpy Stephen Maturin – and since then, whenever times have got tough and I need a pick-me-up, I treat myself to a little holiday in their company. As O’Brian is deceased and the series numbers twenty books, I’ve been making sure that I don’t binge on them so that I’ll know that I have a new adventure with them waiting for me each year for the foreseeable future (and yes, I realise that this is rather sad of me). Now halfway through the series, the previously confusing sailing terms now seem like second nature, and I’m as in love as I ever was with the rest of the writing.
In The Far Side of The World, the wars with the French in which our characters were introduced have long since ended and, instead, we’re now at war with America. Aubrey, in command of HMS Surprise – a ship that’s already seen him through more than a few scrapes – is given the mission of pursuing an American ship, the Norfolk, and protecting British whalers in the Pacific from her depradations. On her way to intercepting the Americans, the Surprises will face onboard adultery, murder-suicides, the loss of its surgeon and captain overboard (and their subsequent ‘rescue’ by a boat of women native to the area, intent on castrating them), massive storms, sharks and, finally, a tense stand-off on a deserted island under the terms of a dubious peace. Meanwhile, Stephen makes a potentially dangerous error in judgement, before almost getting his skull sawn open by the ship’s parson after knocking himself into a coma on the ship’s guns.
The writing on display is as wonderful as ever, and I love how O’Brian depicts the various relationships onboard (even when they’re unsavoury, which they often are). And even though he’s now running out of real life events to exploit – as per his admission at the start of this book – his ways around that, often centring on Stephen’s passion for naturalism and the crew’s handling of the ship itself in the face of Mother Nature’s fury, delights me as much as his splendid sea battles did.
I can’t recommend this series highly enough – even for those, like me, who prefer to stay on dry land and wouldn’t know a topsail from a taffrail.
**Also posted at Cannonball Read 9** -
This must be one of my favourite instalments of the Aubrey and Maturin series. It contains a good many exciting pursuits, terrible storms, unfortunate misadventures, amusing puns, appealing creatures, even some frightening and sad moments. The whole book concerns one very long voyage to the South Pacific and thus there is a lot more in the way of ship shenanigans than spy happenings. As usual, I laughed out loud many times, for example at Jack misquoting "Lead on, Macbeth," only for a crewman named Macbeth to mistake it for an order. This description also tickled me: 'Valparaiso was notorious for possessing nothing, and that nothing of the very lowest quality as well as exorbitantly dear and delivered only after endless delay'.
The relationship of Aubrey and Maturin is especially central to this book. Stephen sulking at not being allowed to visit the Galapagos, Jack diving after in after Stephen falls into the sea (again), and their attempts to gather coconuts on a desert island are all delightful. Both have endearing quirks: Jack’s continued attempts to be witty, Stephen’s newfound taste for coca leaves, both of their particularity about coffee and grilled cheese. I also appreciated the many flora and fauna that appeared, including regular cameos from Scourge the ship’s cat and Aspasia the ship’s goat. How could you fail to smile at lines like, 'They met on the quay, Lopez accompanied by an embarrassing, unnecessary spider monkey that had to be menaced and hissed at to make it go home'.
I won’t spoil things any further by detailing all that I enjoyed, suffice it to say that 'The Far Side of the World' is exceptional even by Patrick O’Brian’s high standards. I couldn’t help noticing that the plot of the film adaptation does not bear very close resemblance to the book. I can understand why, though, as too much occurs to be easily fitted into film format. The film is entertaining and well-cast but the book, of course, is much better.
