The last two weeks I’ve been reading “The Nutmeg of Consolation,” book fourteen of twenty in the Master and Commander series by Patrick O’Brian.
I tell everybody when they ask about what I’m reading that it’s British naval fiction. I always get the same sort of response, a curled lip or the double eyebrow raised accmpanied by something along the lines of, “That sounds boring.”
In fact, I loaned book one, entitled “Master and Commander,” to one of my closest friends along with the warning that yes, while this one was very boring, one just needed to stick it out through the second book to fall in love with the characters. When I first read “Master and Commander,” I thought I might die of boredom. Wading through page after page of confusing nautical/naval terms, I didn’t see an end to the confusion and dense prose.
Well, I figured I had to keep going since I had bought book two, “Post Captain,” along with the first one that I would have to keep reading at least that far.
And certainly, as the two main characters, Captain Jack Aubrey and (eventual) Dr. Stephen Maturin finally overcome their tensions, they become best friends. I as a reader fell in love with these characters, as well as some of the other mainstays of the series, Tom Pullings, Killick, Barret Bonden, William Babbington, etc. But it was only after total immersion in the naval jargon and after getting used to O’Brian’s style that I loved these characters despite their sometimes boring naval engagements.
And O’Brian’s style intrigues me. Sometimes he will describe major events, but I find it more fascinating when he lets them pass with no more than a nod. This happens more often than not, but the payoff comes from the characters’ reactions and references back to said event in the paragraphs just preceding the action. It’s wonderful. And this also propels you to read more and more, especially when the event occurs at the end of a book, since it leaves you with no other choice but to keep going in the series to find out what happens!
So speaking of moving forward, like I said I am on book fourteen, “The Nutmeg of Consolation,” and I wanted to post a mini-review.
This book seemed to meander quite a bit for me. Whereas many naval things happen in most of the other ones, this book focused on the now shipwrecked crew members of the Diana on an island in the south seas. Most of the first quarter of the book was devoted solely to their little island, and while I found this an interesting deviation from the rest of the books I was happier once they were back at sea.
Presently, however, there was action (chasing the Cornelie), a dull sequence once she capsized (rather anticlimactic, I thought), and then the rest of the book centered on them stopping in Australia.
The plot doesn’t fascinate me so much as the characterization does by the end of this. The turn of events provides a hilarious yet touching moment at the very end of the book; Maturin, while endeavoring to help Padeen, his old servant who was jailed and sentenced to a horrible fate at the penal colory, escape and rejoin the ship. Due to awkward circumstances while they are stopped in port, Aubrey decides against helping Maturin help Padeen, and this of course creates tension between the two friends. Indeed more than a few times in the series do the two butt heads over various things; Jack, more often than not must adhere to Naval regulations, rules, and the timing of the tides, while Stephen, always interested in the natural wonders of the world or his own fancies seems always to get the short end of the stick. The movie, for example, portrays Stephen as being angry with Jack when he reneges on a promise to stop at the Galapagos; this is a particular affront to Maturin because no other naturalist at that time would have had the oportunity to be on the island (and so the promise of new species was certain).
I digress. Needless to say, at the very end of this book, what warmed my heart and brought a smile to my face was the very horrific ordeal that Maturin goes though; he goes off to a small island to meet Padeen and along with his friend Martin chances upon two platypi, something they’ve both been waiting to see for the entire last half of the book. The payoff here is wonderful, in that respect.
Of course, Maturin being who he is, wishes to catch one and nets the male, who promptly turns and bites him. He quickly falls into something akin to a coma, completely debilitated. The book ended with Jack saying, “very gently, ‘How do you feel?’ ‘I have survived, I find,” said Stephen, taking his hand. ‘Jack, I cannot tell you how very ardently, I look forward to going home.’”
This made me so happy and relieved that I laughed out loud. Only an Aubrey-Maturin novel could amuse me so much with the simple end of the installation in a ridiculous event and a classic expression of the long friendship between these two characters. It was a characteristic O’Brian ending for the book, more like a small interlude between the serious drama, yet vital to the lives of these characters, and of course I wanted more. I closed the book warm, and happy that I have another one waiting for me at home.
I doubt if many people understand the deep appreciation I have for these books, but I think it’s for good reason. I suppose few people would actually stick out a series if it had a dull beginning, much like I think this one does. But once you’re acclimated to the dense language, the dry but poignant humor, the books open up into this vast, fascinating world fraught with wholly sympathetic and likeable characters. The payoff after finishing each one comes with a sense of satisfaction and a desire to read more. I’m not sure if I wholly agree that O’Brian is one of the world’s best novelists, but he is definitely one of my absolute favorites, whenever I need a break from ’serious’ literary works or my other favorite genres, if only for a single episode in the long life of Aubrey and Maturin.
