Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Moby Dick is a long book: it is also a big book.  Melville sets out to immerse the reader in the world of 19th Century whaling industry while telling the tale of a man ruined by madness.

"Call me Ishmael" is the famous opening line of the novel.  Ishmael narrates his own story about how he went to sea aboard the whaling ship Pequod.  His story does not have much of a plot, and it progresses very slowly.  Ishmael 's narrative is mostly split between telling what he saw and experienced aboard the Pequod,  and what he learned about whales and the whaling industry through the research he undertook in the years after the events being described.

Ishmael paints a vivid picture of life at sea on a whaling ship.  We see a cosmopolitan world in the microcosm of the ship and crew.  Here is a set of men of action who have to thrive in each other's company - for years on end - in cramped conditions.  We hear their conversations, their anecdotes and their songs.  In between times, they take to their boats and hunt down whales.  There are casualties that must be dealt with and griefs to be borne.

Throughout the narrative, Ismael ponders the nature of the universe, of humans, and of the Deity.  His outlook is generally bleak compared with those of his companions.  He does have the power of hindsight on his side, and we start to get some kind of inkling of dark times ahead when Captain Ahab stumps into the story.  The Captain is mad, but what will his madness bring down upon himself, his ship and his crew?

Overall, I really admire the job Melville has done with this book.  Yes, there are over-long passages devoted to cetology, but he was writing for an audience that had no Wikipedia or T.V. documentaries.  On the other hand, Melville succeeds superbly in conjuring up the strange and particular world of ye olde whalers - with its taverns, churches, docks and ships, with its heroes, villains, prophets and seers.  I was shown it all, and I was shown it incredibly well.

It took me a few months to get through Moby Dick, but I'm glad I took the time. It was a very rewarding experience.

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The Sign of the Four by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

It was one of those days: at a loose end, I needed something to while away the time.  I settled on The Sign of Four.  It is the second of the Sherlock Holmes novels.  It turned out to be an entertaining afternoon's read.

Sherlock Holmes is bored and is shooting up cocaine as result.  As luck would have it, a young lady, Mary Morstan, comes to enlist his help in solving an intriguing mystery.  This is what Holmes needs: an intriguing mystery to engage his mind and talents.  Why is somebody sending flawless pearls anonymously to Mary?

As Holmes and Watson investigate the case things get more intriguing and, of course, more dangerous. Holmes uses his deductive logic to solve the puzzling situations confronting them.  Step by step they come closer to unmasking and apprehending the perp.  Will they meet their maker before they can bring the guilty to justice?

I had a lot of fun trying - unsuccessfully - to stay a step ahead of Holmes.  I suppose that is why he is a fictional consulting detective and I am not.  Although The Sign of Four is more of a novella than a novel, there is plenty of action to be had.  Apart from the over-long "I did it" speech in the last chapter, the story moves along at a fair clip.  

Let's face it, what we have here is a yarn, and character development takes second place to action.  That's the deal.  Buy into it and you are assured of a good time.  If you are looking for something for a rainy weekend, this may be your book.

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

A friend in need is a friend, indeed.

Scotland, 1751.  It is five years since the failure of Bonnie Prince Charlie's Jacobite rebellion.  The Hanoverians still hold the Kingdoms of Scotland and England, and their armed forces are in the process of pacifying the Scottish Highland clans.  The Highlanders are not permitted to bear arms or to wear their traditional kilts.  Of course, some Highlanders are still putting up a covert resistance in the name of the Jacobite cause.

Meanwhile, in the hinterland of Edinburgh young David Balfour has come into his majority.  Upon the death of his father, he seeks to claim his estate which is currently being held by his uncle Ebenezer.  Ebenezer has other ideas, and he arranges for David to be kidnapped and placed on a ship bound for the Carolina colonies where David will probably be sold into slavery.  However, the ship is wrecked on Scotland's west coast, and David teams up with a Jacobite warrior called Alan Breck Stewart.  The two start off on foot and head across the highlands, making for Edinburgh: David to reclaim his inheritance, Alan to sail for France.  But first they must negotiate the dangers on the road: robbers, traitors and the King's soldiers.

Stevenson tells a gripping story of two men, strangers to each other, who combine forces in order to beat the odds.  One is a fresh-faced youth who stands to gain by the new order being brought into Scotland; the other is a wily defender of the old order.  Although they do  not share the same political views, David is won over by the charm and talent of Alan Breck, while Alan comes to admire David's courage, candour and decency.

While David Balfour is a fictional character, Alan Breck is real figure, and Stevenson gets them both caught up in a real historical event: the roadside murder of Colin Campbell, the King's Factor in Alan's clan homeland of Appin.  Although David witnesses the murder, he only sees the murderer from afar and he can't be sure if it was Alan Breck or not.  His suspicions causes a rift between the two friends.  Will the two come to be friends and allies again?

Stevenson adroitly moves his characters across the Scottish countryside, enmeshing them in danger and intrigue.  Despite the tale being narrated in the first person by David Balfour, who comments a lot on his own psychological state, the action never bogs down in introspection.  Much of Alan Breck's character - and he is an extremely likeable fellow - we learn through dialogue rather than narration.  Stevenson manages to balance to perfection these two forms of storytelling, both of them providing the necessary exposition and character development.

Kidnapped is supposedly a children's classic, but as an adult I found it to be an enthralling read.  There is never a hint of condescension in the proceedings; and the language is both familiar and challenging, so there is plenty there for both kiddies and adults.  Thank you, R.L.S.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

There's one thing worse than reading a novel by Oscar Wilde...

Yes, the celebrated playwright and short-story writer wrote one novel and The Picture of Dorian Gray is it.  Wilde wrote this book before his plays, and many of his famous witticisms that we may know best from his plays appeared in this book first.  They are mostly spoken by Lord Henry Wotton; and once they start, they don't stop whilst Lord Henry is on the scene.  The book fairly sizzles with them.

[Spoiler Alert] Most people who are familiar with the name Dorian Gray will know that this book contains the story of a far-more-than-handsome young man who does not age; rather, his commissioned portrait starts to show the lines and wrinkles.  Worse yet, or better still for Dorian, the portrait also bears all the marks of Dorian's dissolute and debauched life, until it's visage becomes hideous to behold.

The Picture of Dorian Gray is such a multifaceted book that I can hardly do it justice in the limited scope of this review.  On face value, we have a fantasy story of a wish come true; however, dig beneath the surface and it can be read as a satire, a tract about the nature of art, of morals, of love, of homosexual love, and of taking pleasure in clandestine behaviour abhorrent to the so-called right-minded people of the Victorian Age.

Whatever it is, Wilde has told the story magnificently.  Lord Henry Wotton is a totally unforgettable creation: a debonair and cynical man of leisure who has an acid wit and a sparkling turn of phrase.  Dorian's gradual but finally absolute corruption proceeds ruthlessly.  There is human collateral damage everywhere.  In the meantime, the reader is challenged about how to think and feel about so many important matters.  Just to finish off, here is Lord Henry in one of his more serious moments:

The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly - that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one's self. Of course they are charitable.  They feed the hungry, and clothe the beggar.  But their own souls starve, and are naked.  Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is the secret of religion - these are the two things that govern us.  And yet -

 What do you suppose the 'And yet -' leads to?  You will have to read the book.

The Warden by Anthony Trollope

'Tis a pity that he should not have recognized the fact that in this world no good is unalloyed, and that there is but little evil that has not in it some seed of what is goodly.

The Warden is a charming book peopled with characters who are neither wholly good nor wholly evil.  They are vividly imagined and realised beings, each with their own particular set of virtues and foibles; and the main characters are set a problem that exercises their sense of discrimination of right from wrong. 

The scene is Victorian England.  The Reverend Septimus Harding is enjoying his twilight years.  As the Warden of Hiram's Hospital, a hospice for disabled rural workers, he receives a substantial stipend in return for no work whatsoever.  His problems start when  someone points this out to the local newspaper.  Is it right that one man should receive twice as much as twelve invalid pensioners combined for no other reason than this is the way the Church of England has seen fit to administer a centuries-old bequeathment? 

This is the main moral question for the characters in the book. The Reverend Harding is stung by the accusation and wrestles with his conscience.  Archdeacon Grantly leads the Church's defence against the claims of the pensioners to a fairer treatment, while the Bishop vacillates about the matter.  

In The Warden, Trollope has created a gentle, thoughtful and likeable Reverend, a decisive but bullying Archdeacon and an ineffectual Bishop.  Set against these are a socially-minded suitor, a crusading newspaper man, and a dozen damaged and ill-educated pensioners.  These characters are so skilfully drawn that the reader can engage with and care for them all.  And even though the setting of the action is now more than 100 years in the past, it is easy for the modern reader to be immersed politics of the little world of Barsetshire.

I liked this book a great deal, and I look forward to reading the sequel, Barchester Towers.

A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs

The word on the street is that Disney made a film adaptation of this book, they called it John Carter, and they lost a snoot-load of money on it.  I saw the film.  I can understand why.  So it baffles me how a good book can make a not-so-good movie.

John Carter is a derring-do survivor of the American Civil war.  He goes prospecting in Arizona after the war and disappears for ten years.  What folk don't know is that he was transported to the planet Mars and had a lot of adventures there before he was returned to Earth.

A Princess of Mars is the first Edgar Rice Burroughs novel I have read.  It was first published in 1912, and Burroughs is considered to be one of the early pulp fiction writers.  I can see how he would have been popular with his audience.  His prose is plain yet eloquent; the narrative never bogs down in any one place, and the action is kept moving along.  The plot is simple in its broadest sense, and yet there is enough sub-plotting to allow for some nicely executed twists.  And there was a novelty in Burroughs' vision of a Martian civilisation.

Yes, the Mars that John Carter visits has quite a few cultures, and he has direct experience of a few of them.  In a way, Carter acts as a kind of amateur anthropologist, relating to the reader his discoveries about the strange races of Mars and their histories.  Of course, the century that has elapsed since the debut of A Princess of Mars has given us many repetitions of the novelties this book contains, and it is a generous reader who keeps in mind how original Burroughs might have in his day.  It would seem that Burroughs keyed into the zeitgeist as radium features prominently in the story as a wonder material.  Today we know the hazards of radium.

I enjoyed A Princess of Mars.  It is a little tame by today's standards, but it is a good story and one well told.