The Reverse of the Medal

Aubrey & Maturin #11

by Patrick O'Brian

Captain Jack Aubrey, R. N., ashore after a successful cruise, is persuaded by a casual acquaintance to make certain investments in the City. This innocent decision ensnares him in the London criminal underground and in government espionage—the province of his friend Stephen Maturin. Is Aubrey's humiliation and the threatened ruin of his career a deliberate plot? This dark tale is a fitting backdrop to the brilliant characterization and sparkling dialogue which O'Brian's readers have come to expect.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, Historical, Adventure, Audiobook, Nautical, War

308 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1986

About the author

Patrick O'Brian's acclaimed Aubrey-Maturin series of historical novels has been described as "a masterpiece" (David Mamet, New York Times), "addictively readable" (Patrick T. Reardon, Chicago Tribune), and "the best historical novels ever written" (Richard Snow, New York Times Book Review), which "should have been on those lists of the greatest novels of the 20th century" (George Will).

Set in the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars, O'Brian's twenty-volume series centers on the enduring friendship between naval officer Jack Aubrey and physician (and spy) Stephen Maturin. The Far Side of the World, the tenth book in the series, was adapted into a 2003 film directed by Peter Weir and starring Russell Crowe and Paul Bettany. The film was nominated for ten Oscars, including Best Picture. The books are now available in hardcover, paperback, and e-book format.

In addition to the Aubrey-Maturin novels, Patrick O'Brian wrote several books including the novels Testimonies, The Golden Ocean, and The Unknown Shore, as well as biographies of Joseph Banks and Picasso. He translated many works from French into English, among them the novels and memoirs of Simone de Beauvoir, the first volume of Jean Lacouture's biography of Charles de Gaulle, and famed fugitive Henri Cherriere's memoir Papillon. O'Brian died in January 2000.

The Aubrey-Maturin Series on Goodreads

Reviews

[Algernon (Darth Anyan) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a long journey, already! I've been pacing myself for a while with this series, afraid I would get fed up with the obscure nautical jargon used by Captain Aubrey or with the wealth of scientific observation provided by doctor Maturin. Yet the dominant note as I delve into the second half of this twenty book epic is the desire of never reaching the end, of sailing on towards the ever distant line of the horizon in the company of these two fictional people that have become intimate friends through the magic web of words woven by this master storyteller that is Patrick O'Brian.

There is a lot of plot development in this eleventh episode, most of it taking place on dry land – a dramatic development whose seeds were planted several books back and one that underlines the often brutal disconnect between the purity of life on the high seas and the corruption, betrayal and venality of life on shore. We already knew that as accomplished as Jack Aubrey is on the deck of his frigate, he becomes a sap for crooks, gamblers and political handlers when he returns home to England. In an attempt to repair his badly shaken finances after losing a fortune with bad investments in horses and mining, Aubrey jumps at the chance to make a fortune on the Stock Exchange after receiving secret tips from a man he meets in a tavern. Not only this, but Jack Aubrey wants to spread the good fortune to his friends and so he tells his politician father and a couple of other close acquaintances about the secret deal. The resulting debacle offers the author a chance to describe the shortcomings of the British legal and political elitist system where Truth comes second to personal animosity and power plays in the House of Lords. Jack Aubrey is about to lose the very reason of his existence – his commission into the Royal Navy and might very well end up with a long stint in jail. He is also about to lose his beloved ship, the frigate 'Surprise', and its hand-picked crew, as the Admiralty has decided to send it to the scrap yard. Is this the end of the journey? or is friendship more important than money, career and even family. Stephen Maturin must pull a miracle out of his bag of spy tricks in order to save his friend Aubrey, all this while trying to uncover a deeply seated Bonapartist mole in the Admiralty and searching for his runaway wife.

—«»—«»—«»—

I was going to go easy on the synopsis, but I got a little carried away trying to put some order in what I remember about the plot, some three months after I finished the book. My old notes though deal less with factual details and more with the real reason I love this series so much: passion, competence and joy of life – three constants that have come to define the journey and the characters for me. Let's illustrate with Jack Aubrey in one of those lyrical interludes that O'Brian writes so well:

There were mornings when the ship would lie there mirrored in a perfectly unmoving glossy sea, her sails drooping, heavy with dew, and he would dive from the rail, shattering the reflexion and swimming out and away beyond the incessant necessary din of two hundred men hurrying about their breakfast. There he would float with an infinity of pure sea on either hand and the whole hemisphere of sky above, already full of light; and then the sun would would heave up on the eastern rim, turning the sails a brilliant white in quick succession, changing the sea to still another nameless blue, and filling his heart with joy.

Equally strong in Jack Aubrey is the call to arms, the hunter instinct that revels in the sound of broadsides and in the storm winds wiping through the rigging:

Furthermore, the glass was sinking, a sure sign of wind; and throughout the meal the steady chipping of shot told him that all was well on deck. A chase in sight, his ship in perfect order, and a blow coming on: this was real sailoring – this was why men went to sea.

For those less well versed in maritime lore, as I was before starting the series, 'chipping' refers to the hammering out of surface defects in the round shot for cannons, making the balls more accurate over long distances.

The strength and the calm that Aubrey finds in the solitary communion with the sea, Maturin discovers in the equally solitary contemplation of the wonders of the natural world:

'Why do I feel such intense pleasure, such an intense satisfaction?' asked Stephen. For some time he searched for a convincing reply, but finding none he observed 'The fact is that I do.' He sat on the as the sun's rays came slowly down through the trees, lower and lower, and when the lowest reached a branch not far above him it caught a dewdrop poised upon a leaf. The drop instantly blazed crimson, and a slight movement of his head made it show all the colours of the spectrum with extraordinary purity, from a red almost too deep to be seen through all the others to the ultimate violet and back again. Some minutes later a cock pheasant's explosive call broke the silence and the spell and he stood up.

Similar to Aubrey, the good doctor has an action oriented side to his personality, necessary in his undercover work and put to good use in this episode in the hour of need.

'Does Dr. Maturin understand the stock-exchange?'
'I very much doubt it.'
'Yet so philosophic a mind might well contemplate the City, and observe the conflict of greed and fear in the minds of its inhabitants, symbolized by the Stock Exchange quotations.'

Secondary characters serve well to elaborate and shine new light (often in humorous tones) on the musical themes played by the two protagonists. For example, reverend Martin displays a hidden passion for that most English pastime – cricket – to the annoyance of Dr. Maturin: Do you not find watching good cricket restful, absorbing, a balm to the anxious, harassed mind? And former ensign Pullings, now a captain in his own right, displays a passion for the sea almost as strong as that of his former master:

There was a brief lapse into the young fellow Stephen had known so long ago when they turned a corner and the long harbour came in sight, with the 'Surprise' lying against the quay on the far side, lit by a clear sea-light and a high, gently dappled sky as though for her portrait. 'There she lays,' he cried. 'Oh there she lays! Ain't she the loveliest thing you ever saw?'

Let us hope the valiant 'Surprise' and her loyal crew will recover from the present dire straits and set sail again to the high seas in the next volume.

[Jason Koivu · Rating 5 out of 5]

The journey continues and the friendship grows regardless of the setbacks that abound in The Reverse of the Medal

After an epic voyage to the Pacific in The Far Side of the World, the HMS Surprise sails home, chasing a privateer, during which background information is relayed that will be useful later on. So, pay attention! Then "later on" comes quick-like and our hero Captain Jack Aubrey takes a sketchy tip and dives into the stock market on a "sure thing." Aubrey is lucky to have his good friend Stephen Maturin, a doctor and intelligence agent (but that's on the DL, so keep it under your hat,) on his side. Maturin does his best to extricate Aubrey, but there are forces at play beyond them both.

Much of the action takes place on land, where Aubrey is a complete fish out of water. Little good ever comes of our hero Captain Jack when he's stranded on land. I enjoy the land-based books almost as much as when the characters are at sea, but the characters themselves usually end up the worse for wear.

Author Patrick O'Brian grinds an ax against lawyers in this installment of his Aubrey/Maturin series. He has very little good to say about them, neither through character dialogue nor actions. The lawyers and judge that appear herein are displayed as vindictive puppets for political motivation. Their machinations are crafted by the author to illicit hatred and he succeeds.

While there is action and intrigue aplenty, certain scenes are drawn out in a way that might bore some readers. O'Brian liked to paint a picture of the day to day when he could fit it into a scene that also moved the story along. I love it, but it does make the story move along just that much slower, so I could see some readers skipping pages. I'd advise against that. You'll miss the subtle character development and the nuanced plot evolvement, which are the bread and butter of these books.

The ending is both dramatic and heart-felt. After some slow going for a few chapters, the whole thing winds up in a hell of a heart-racing hurry that will make you reach for the next book in the series the moment you finish the last wonderful words of The Reverse of the Medal.

My review of book ten: The Far Side of the World

My review of book twelve: The Letter of Marque

[Nelson · Rating 5 out of 5]

These novels are maddeningly, consistently, entertainingly four-star novels. Until now. O'Brian's writing is as incisive as ever, his well-developed sense of irony as sharp here as in any of the previous books. But from almost the first word through the incredibly thrilling conclusion, this entry is just a slightly more brilliantly plotted work than what has come before. There are more surprises and amazing turns of narrative here than in perhaps the last two or three combined--and that is really saying something. Most of the novel takes place on land, in London, among the world of stockbrokers and law courts. As ever, O'Brian is more than up to the demands historical fiction makes, and renders this part of his world as completely as he does so very many others. There are at least two or three moments of genuine beauty where one is compelled almost to stop and just savor how the plot and the writing come together (the first (surely?) appearance of Samuel Panda, the long-awaited reunion with Sophie and Jack's experience in the pillory, to name three). In this novel as well, one has the sense that O'Brian is getting ever more ambitious with how he focuses the text. Sometimes he locates the narrative in the conversations between Maturin and Aubrey, and very often he will locate the focus in the conscious thoughts of one of the two. Perhaps consistently more often than in any entry to this point, we see the two main characters through the eyes of others. It's a very deft move; at this juncture both Aubrey and Maturin have significant reputations. One senses that future entries will play more on the public-private distinction; clearly O'Brian is more than equal to this shift in narrative focus. The characters continue to develop in interesting and surprising ways. Much of this book takes place in Maturin's element, yet he is deeply fallible here. More importantly, he is conscious of his mistakes: they deepen his friendship and sense of obligation to Aubrey, which, ultimately, is the linchpin on which all of these magnificent novels turn. What else? One almost always has a tendency to rush the endings of these novels because the suspense gets wound up to fever pitch--this time O'Brian really outdoes anything he has accomplished before in that line. While he seems to still regard the novel as a discrete unit of narrative measurement, here guns cocked two and three novels before finally go off. The control and talent to sustain suspense over such a very long stretch of narration without ever slackening the pace or interest is really hard to fathom. And this one ends even more thrillingly than anything that has come before--the last sentence leaves one in agony for the next. The highest peak in a chain of impressive mountains. So far.

[Malacorda · Rating 4 out of 5]

Con quale e quanta meravigliosa abilità O'Brian sta sviluppando, arricchendo, ricamando e arzigogolando la trama di questa serie! E in più con la grazia e l'arguzia di sempre, una costanza che ha un che di oserei dire sbalorditivo se si considera quanto è facile, per un autore che è alle prese con una serie o un sequel o dir si voglia, scadere nella banalizzazione, nell'insipido allungamento della minestra o persino nella tragicomica parodia di sé stesso.

Sui tanti pregi di questa serie mi sono già dilungata in precedenza; le virtù benefiche di queste letture che sanno portare sollievo dall'oppressione della prigionia del lockdown così come portare sollievo dalla grande calura dell'anticiclone africano, anche tutto questo l'ho già spiegato nelle altre recensioni e non vorrei essere ripetitiva.

Una cosa che forse non ho sottolineato a dovere in precedenza, è che il nostro oltre a scrivere bene, con grazia e leggerezza, è pure colto: in ogni libro della serie si fanno nuove conoscenze con naturalisti, poeti, musicisti dell'epoca. Se uno ne ha voglia, gli basta solo aprire quella porta e scopre un mondo nuovo.

Se il secondo libro della serie Aubrey&Maturin faceva molto Jane Austen, questo - l'undicesimo - è un Dickens a tutti gli effetti, lo diventa sempre di più ad ogni pagina, di man in mano che ci si immerge nei meandri bui di una Londra piovosa e quasi sotterranea, verso un finale che si preannuncia cupo e che poi esplode in mille girandole e giravolte come un fuoco d'artificio. Un finale che basta da solo a spiegare il significato del titolo del prossimo episodio e che è più tentatore di un cesto di ciliegie: ancora una, solo una...

[Darwin8u · Rating 5 out of 5]

"When virtue spooms before a prosperous gale
My heaving wishes help to fill the sail"
- John Dryden, The Hind And The Panther



There is a fairly exciting cat and mouse chase in this book, but for the most part 'The Reverse of the Medal' involves another Captain Jack Aubrey financial mistake. In what I'll only describe as a mix between a classic economic espionage novel ala John le Carré and David Mamet's The Spanish Prisoner, Jack Aubrey loses about everything. At the same time, Dr. Maturin is trying to take care of his friend financially by procuring the Surprise at a Navy auction all while dealing with the absence of his mercurial wife.

Without divulging too much of the plot, let me just say that one of the final chapters of this novel actually made me cry. It wasn't sad, per se, but the tears that swell up when you witness men doing manly things to help other men. Anyway, it was beautiful and touching and worth the time.

[Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

This one is mainly of interest for O’Brian fans (like me). I wouldn’t recommend it to someone new to this series about British Naval activities in the Napoleanic Wars. This is because most of the novel’s action takes place on land. There is an exciting chase of Jack’s frigate in pursuit a privateer in the first part of the book, but we are deprived of a chance to see his special friend and ship’s surgeon, Stephen Maturin, engage in his naturalist avocation in exotic locales. Those who have already come to love Lucky Jack for his heart and courage in battle will be moved by the jeopardy he stands up to in the court case in this story. Stephen is really in his element dealing with the political intrigue that lies behind this case.

The rich and vibrant friendship between Jack and Stephen is the true heart of the series, and it brings me much elation and tender feelings over their mutual welfare. O’Brian’s portrait of the special society and teamwork aboard a ship of the Royal Navy is effectively the soul the collective work. On top of this bounty, the tales thrill me with exciting battles and educate me a lot on the history of competition between the colonial giants of Europe. It is no exaggeration to say that the capabilities of British Navy to project power throughout the world’s oceans was the most important key to the success of this island nation in building an empire.

I envy anyone who is just now setting out to read from this body of work. A reason this particular book was special to me is that it completes my thirty year tour of the complete set of 20 novels. In celebration, I share four great book covers from some of my favorites from the series, which were painted by Geof Hunt (in order: The Surgeon’s Mate, Master and Commander, H.M.S. Surprise, and The Yellow Admiral).

[Sherwood Smith]

My history with this book serves as proof that I at least cannot do justice to a series if I don't begin at the beginning.

When I first heard of the Aubrey/Maturin series, I took a look for it in the bookstore. This particular book was the only one available. I read the first few pages and had no idea what was going on or who anyone was, so I put it back.

The next time I picked up this book was after I’d read the previous ones in the series. This time all of the background was there. The threads were in place, the complicated emotional background compelled me, and the relationships imbued the words with meaning and measure. From the first word I was passionately with the story, which promptly began to build to one of the most emotionally resounding climaxes I have ever read.

It is a brilliant book in so many ways. It is utterly unpredictable. The characters are so complex, in a way that only happens when you have lived and breathed with them through ten books.

The glimpse into the underside of London is both fascinating and disturbing, and that underside includes the labyrinthine judicial system that Dickens was going to pillory so effectively in Bleak House mid-century, touching off desperately-needed judicial reform. The villains . . . the victim . . . and the seamen’s response . . .

Well, to say anything more would be unjustifiable spoiler, but I note that everyone I have ever spoken to who has read this book has made mention of that scene.

[Murray · Rating 5 out of 5]

🇬🇧 🇫🇷 🇪🇸 This series was brilliant far beyond its Age of Sail and Nelson genre niche.

O’Brian was a wizard at creating authenticity so that you felt you were actually in an 1800s world and blinked when you set a book of his aside because it was the 21st century not the 19th.

Master and Commander was one of his novels that was filmed with Russell Crowe. Amazing movie.

Any of his books are so recommended. And btw they have plenty of romance in them too.

🌊 ⚓️ 💙

[Robert · Rating 5 out of 5]

An epic chase, a Flash Cove, a stock market fraud, a happy homecoming, and a nadir of naval fortunes- eleven books in this series is going from strength to strength and, as the Author's Note makes clear it is all most improbably based on events and a legal imbroglio that actually happened to the legendary British naval hero Lord Cochrane, as detailed in the excellent Cochrane: The Life and Exploits of a Fighting Captain.


Three cheers for the (literally) pilloried Lucky Jack, and on to the next one!

[Clemens Schoonderwoert · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read this book in 2008, and its the 11th amazing volume of the wonderful "Aubrey/Maturin" series.

This tale will see Captain Jack Aubrey, RN, ashore in persuaded to invest to make certain investments in the City.

While investing his money, Aubrey will get ensnared within the London criminal underground and with government espionage.

This latest espionage is the real world for Maturin, in which he'll do anything to clear Aubrey's name and reputation.

For is this act a deliberate plot to ruin Aubrey's career and humiliate him at the same time, and if that's true, Maturin feels as his obligation towards his friend to set out to find the truth about who's behind these backhanded actions, and finally deal with these persons responsible, but in the end to no avail due to enemies within government.

What is to follow is a dark tale in which Aubrey and Maturin will deal with those responsible, and this amazing kind of story is brought to us by the author in his own authentic and brilliant fashion.

Highly recommended, for this is another splendid addition to this excellent series, and that's why I like to call this episode: "A Marvellous Maturin Spying Mission"!

[Terry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow, I must admit that I did not see that coming.

Let me preamble this review by saying that there are certainly some ways in which a reader could feel that many of the books in the Aubrey-Maturin series are a bit ‘same-y’. There is often a particular pattern to O’Brian’s stories that is followed even when the specific details change: namely we often have an interlude on shore (in which Jack may or may not make some monumental blunder), followed (or preceded) by an extended naval cruise in which the weather, an enemy, or both will test the abilities of Aubrey and his crew to their limits and from which they will invariably emerge if not unscathed, then at least with their lives intact and perhaps a nice peach of a prize in tow to boot. Wrangling with the Admiralty features quite often, as does Stephen’s fruitless importunities to Jack in the hopes that the ship can stop off at some exotic locale in order to study the native flora and fauna. Worries, real or imagined, about one or more of our heroes love lives’ may intrude on events, and there is also likely (especially of late) to be intrigue as Maturin matches wits with adversaries in the espionage line, having perhaps more varied results than Aubrey’s adventures. The fortunes of both our heroes, both personal and professional, certainly change as the story progresses through the volumes, but it could perhaps be argued that so far they have tended to rise and fall within a fairly circumscribed arc in which a general status quo can be perceived. Certainly many of the afore-mentioned elements do appear in this volume, but what O’Brian does with them blows the status quo right out of the water (pun, of course, intended).

As with many of the Aubrey-Maturin volumes _The Reverse of the Medal_ opens with some clean-up of a few loose ends from the last one. In this case this involves the prisoners captured from the USS Spartan who had been involved in an infamous naval mutiny aboard the HMS Hermione some years earlier and who are summarily hanged after a particularly unpleasant court martial that leaves a bad taste in Jack’s mouth. An additional surprise confronts both Jack and the reader when the fruits of a former liaison with an African woman in his youth greets him on-board the Surprise. Jack takes the shock in more or less good grace, evincing a certain pride in the bearing of his newly found son, though he is a bit perturbed that the young man had first presented himself to Jack’s wife Sophie in England and also happens to be (oh the horror!) a papist in minor orders! Jack is not alone in possible storms on the home-front, however, as poor Stephen must finally contend with the fallout of his supposed dalliance with Laura Fielding in Malta: Diana, deciding that the affront to her dignity was too great, has left once again, this time absconding to Sweden with her apparent lover, Stephen’s former crew-mate and ‘friend’ Jagiello. The fact that she likely cuckolded Stephen long before his supposed infidelity apparently doesn’t mean much to Diana…quelle surprise.

You might think that these trials, along with the looming loss of the dear old Surprise, waiting for them at home would be sufficient, but O’Brian has much more waiting in the wings to shake up the lives of our unfortunate duo. Upon landing in England Jack is almost immediately suckered into a get-rich-quick scheme as his trusting nature, and inability to smell a rat, lead him to make what is perhaps the single greatest blunder of his life. In a nutshell Jack becomes embroiled in stock exchange fraud with far-reaching political, as well as legal and economic, implications. The majority of the novel revolves around Jack’s apparent inability to see his true predicament due to his misguided confidence in the justice of British law, while Stephen once again shines as he struggles manfully against fate in the hopes of clearing Jack’s name and saving him from both ruin and disgrace. Alas fate (and some very accomplished scheming) is against him and even with a new fortune bequeathed to him by his now dead godfather, all of Stephen’s best efforts end up being little more than a bandage on what will become a gaping wound in Jack’s life and psyche.

On the bright side Stephen is now monumentally rich and thus is able to buy the Surprise from the government and give it to Jack as a privateer, which in turn means that he is still the captain of his beloved ship and need not give up the sea; but on the other hand Jack is struck from the Navy List, humiliated publicly, ostracized from his comrades, and has ultimately lost the most important element of his identity. He may indeed still be a captain, but he has been cast out of the only society he has ever known and loved since he was a child and the loss is sure to reverberate through the next volumes of the series. We are likely in store for a much harder Jack, a man less genial and willing to let the difficulties of life slide off his back. And I wonder how Stephen’s new role as his friend’s benefactor (and at least nominal superior as owner of the ship) will sit with the gallant captain? Only time, and the next volume, will tell.

[Karl Jorgenson · Rating 4 out of 5]

A rollicking, fun adventure for Aubrey and Maturin. This episode is way outside the usual in that almost all takes place on land in England where Captain Aubrey is accused of stock fraud and put on trial, the subtext being that powers-that-be wish to strike at Captain Aubrey's father who is a perpetual thorn in parliament and an affront to an orderly society. The process of 1812 English justice is exciting and amusing so a worthy book, if not the usual booming broadsides and grappling-hook boarding with cutlasses and pistols.

[Moloch · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ancora una volta siamo qui a lamentarci del grande, imperdonabile difetto dei romanzi di O'Brian: sono troppo brevi... Hai voglia a ripromettersi di non correre, di dilatare i tempi di lettura per prolungare il piacere... poi non riesci a staccarti e in due giorni il libro è finito.

Questo è finora il romanzo più "terraiolo" dell'intera saga, anche più di Costa sottovento, e lo invocavo da tempo perché è anche quello che porta finalmente al pettine tanti nodi che l'Autore ha iniziato a intrecciare svariate puntate fa, e su cui attendevo con ansia una risoluzione. Andiamo un po' con ordine.

Iniziamo col dire che non è giunta del tutto inaspettata, per me, quella che finora è la svolta più clamorosa della serie, e cioè il complotto e le false accuse contro Jack, il processo per frode in Borsa e la condanna che portano alla sua espulsione dalla Royal Navy. In parte è stata "colpa" dello stesso O'Brian, però, che non ha mai fatto mistero nei libri precedenti di essersi ispirato, per il suo protagonista, alla figura realmente esistita di Thomas Cochrane, la cui biografia, comprensiva di questo momento cruciale, ci era già stata svelata in numerose note a pie' di pagina, e anche nella brevissima introduzione a quest'ultimo romanzo se ne parla apertamente.
Sapere con anticipo ciò che molto probabilmente sta per succedere non toglie comunque più di tanto pathos alla vicenda, poiché è chiaro che, se pure l'ineffabile e geniale Maturin aggiusti subito un po' le cose (il titolo del prossimo romanzo, La nave corsara , certo faceva già intuire i prossimi sviluppi, ma quale poesia da parte dell'Autore far sì che fosse proprio la vecchia, amatissima Surprise, acquistata da Maturin e scampata così alla demolizione, a costituire l'àncora di salvezza per Jack!), questo è un colpo micidiale per il nostro capitano, per il quale l'appartenenza, l'identificazione quasi, con la Royal Navy era ormai parte di sé e della sua essenza intima. Non è l'unica certezza di Jack che va in frantumi in questo episodio per lui crudelissimo, ahimè. E una delle sue ultime scene prima del suo commiato da questo libro (perché poi le pagine finali saranno tutte di Stephen) è crudele anche per il lettore suo amico, perché già si intuisce che sarà un Jack molto diverso (più duro, più disperato) quello che probabilmente incontreremo andando avanti (su questo tornerò fra poco).

Per quei giochi di rimandi interni e allusioni di cui l'Autore ama molto disseminare i suoi libri, sono due i processi in cui Jack si ritrova, in entrambi i casi suo malgrado, protagonista nel corso del libro; ma, mentre nei capitoli iniziali sarà nelle vesti di giudice (è una corte marziale per giudicare gli ammutinati dell' Hermione , da lui catturati al termine di Ai confini del mare), nel secondo e ultimo la prospettiva sarà completamente rovesciata, perché è lui l'imputato. In entrambi i casi, le riflessioni e i pensieri che l'Autore mette in testa al suo protagonista sono assai amari (sono sempre colpita da questi momenti più introspettivi di Jack perché generalmente il personaggio più riflessivo e "filosofico" è Stephen, per cui questi momenti di vulnerabilità e autoanalisi in Jack, tanto più rari, sono assai significativi). La corte marziale ha evidentemente, ai suoi occhi, un esito scontato in partenza, dato che la difesa è poco più di una formalità e che per tutti gli imputati la sentenza di morte è pressocché certa. Si sente poco più di un attore all'interno di una messinscena in cui l'unico scopo è ridurre in un semplice schema bianco/nero una vicenda molto complessa (gli ammutinati si sono sicuramente macchiati di atrocità, ma il trattamento cui erano sottoposti a bordo della nave era crudelissimo) e la sua coscienza gli rimorde (un po' pilatescamente, non si sottrae al suo dovere di far parte del collegio giudicante, ma riesce almeno ad evitare di assistere alle esecuzioni).
Ma ugualmente lontano, lontanissimo dal suo ingenuo ideale di giustizia (il mito della "giustizia inglese" che si ostina in modo commovente a difendere a oltranza mentre tutti attorno a lui lo mettono in guardia dal complotto ai suoi danni) sarà anche il processo-farsa in cui è imputato, dove, invece delle procedure fin troppo sbrigative e spicce dei tribunali militari, sono al contrario le sottigliezze, gli stratagemmi, i cavilli di cui sanno approfittare i più scaltri, non necessariamente nell'interesse della verità e della giustizia, che determinano la salvezza o la rovina degli imputati.

Un altro elemento che mi piace sottolineare: c'è qui (finalmente!) una bella scena tra Jack e suo padre. Il generale Aubrey, nei libri precedenti, era stato citato più volte ed era più o meno comparso in Missione sul Baltico (ma era in effetti un resoconto a posteriori di un incontro già avvenuto: su questo vedi più avanti), ma qui, e ripeto finalmente, eccolo direttamente in prima persona sul palcoscenico. L'ho definita una "bella" scena, come qualsiasi cosa che esca dalla penna di O'Brian, ma non certo per l'episodio in sé, perché in realtà è un colloquio pieno di tensione e imbarazzo che mostra lo stato desolante dei rapporti tra padre e figlio. Chissà se ci sarà mai un riavvicinamento o se, con quel che succede in questa puntata, siamo arrivati a un punto di non ritorno, quel che è certo è che a me il personaggio di questo padre egoista, meschino e totalmente inaffidabile piace tantissimo.

Ci sono solo due aspetti su cui mi permetto di sollevare qualche (piccolo! umilissimo!) appunto.
Il primo non è neanche tanto una critica quanto un rammarico: mi chiedo come mai spesso O'Brian ricorra, per alcune scene-chiave, all'espediente di non mostrarle "in diretta" ma di presentarle al lettore quali narrazioni fatte a posteriori da un personaggio a un altro. È capitato alcune volte nei libri precedenti, e qui è il caso nientemeno che del dibattimento del processo di Jack, con le schermaglie tra gli avvocati e la vera e propria operazione di character assassination messa in piedi dall'accusa nei confronti di Jack, che vede sfumare così qualsiasi illusione di essere giudicato imparzialmente. Qui ci viene detto tutto dall'avvocato difensore, che lo racconta a Stephen dopo che è già finito tutto. Non so, sembra quasi che O'Brian scelga deliberatamente di approcciare queste scene clou in questo tono così "dimesso" e (fin troppo!) discreto, ma perché lo fa? Ormai da decine di pagine aspettavamo noi lettori questo processo, e quanto avremmo voluto essere lì nel pieno degli eventi, avere i dialoghi in presa diretta, le reazioni di Jack!

La seconda mini-critica è che non mi aspettavo questa nuova improvvisa rottura tra Stephen e Diana, anzi ero contentissima che l'Autore avesse saputo sviluppare la loro storia quel tanto che bastava per mantenerla avvincente e ricca di pathos ma non, se tirata troppo per le lunghe, monotona e ripetitiva. Saperli ormai sposati prometteva altre gustosissime scenette della loro vita matrimoniale un po' anticonvenzionale, magari a contrasto con quella più placida e tenera di Jack e Sophia, ma così non è perché qui abbiamo l'ennesima fuga di Diana, e allora staremo a vedere. Mi piacerebbe che la cosa arrivasse a un punto fermo, o con la ritrovata concordia anche se un po' litigarella o con Stephen che, finalmente, passa oltre (a parte che ci sono rimasta male a leggere che erano vere le voci su Diana e il simpatico Jagiello, rimane da capire chi lo sapeva e scriveva quelle lettere anonime a Stephen...). Detto questo, è chiaro che ho fiducia al 100% nell'Autore e che qualsiasi cosa si inventerà sarà senz'altro meglio di quel che mi potevo immaginare io, e starò qui a battergli le mani.

La seconda metà del libro è talmente cupa e angosciante che dà proprio luogo a un netto contrasto con la prima parte, dove invece si trovano, accanto alle scene propriamente nautiche, rare e poco rilevanti in questo romanzo, alcuni momenti caratterizzati dalla tipica atmosfera di gioioso calore con cui l'Autore dipinge il suo mondo e i suoi personaggi e che sa trasmettere ai suoi lettori (è anzi proprio la quiete prima della tempesta, perché praticamente due pagine dopo il delizioso ricongiungimento di Jack e Sophia dopo la lunga lontananza lui viene arrestato).
Parlo, in primo luogo, ovviamente della grande sorpresa dell'incontro tra Jack e il giovane Samuel Panda, un figlio illegittimo di cui non conosceva l'esistenza, frutto di un suo amore di gioventù (un giorno o l'altro ce l'avremo un flashback su questo "famoso" periodo a bordo della Resolution, in cui il giovane Jack ne ha combinate di cotte e di crude?), scena veramente deliziosa tratteggiata con un equilibrio magistrale tra stupore, commozione, humor (i comici e impacciatissimi commenti di Jack, la sua buffa e allo stesso tempo toccante inquietudine al pensiero di come la moglie avrà reagito a trovarsi davanti Sam), pudore, affetto e mille altre emozioni. Speriamo di rivedere ancora in futuro Samuel (visto che nel prossimo libro si dovrebbe andare in Sudamerica, dove si trova la missione di Sam, potrebbe succedere).
E ancora, l'interminabile, e per Stephen noiosissima, partita di cricket, il reverendo Martin e la sua lista di nozze, il ritorno di Sophia nella casa totalmente "sventrata" dai grandi piani di ristrutturazione improvvisati da Jack, il modo splendido in cui lei dissipa ogni timore di Jack sul suo atteggiamento verso la novità imprevista del figlio di lui (Sophia è meravigliosa in questo libro, e ogni volta che inizio a temere che O'Brian ne voglia leggermente "incrinare" l'immagine, lui la rende ancora più meravigliosa! Ha una piccola parte, e io la vorrei più presente - ma lo dico praticamente di ogni personaggio minore, per quanto sono belli! -, ma finora in ogni scena è stata fantastica). Ed è proprio tipicamente di O'Brian far seguire all'immagine grandiosa di Jack seduto per tutta la notte sul ponte, in piena burrasca, avvolto nella mantella cerata, impegnato a inseguire a folle velocità una nave nemica, la fine ingloriosa di questa impresa, con Aubrey strapazzato per la sua imprudenza (col senno di poi, che impressione pensare che questa è stata - per ora?? - l'ultima volta in cui l'abbiamo visto in azione con la Royal Navy).

Mi sembra più "appropriato" però, per questo libro che - ripeto - ha costituito un grosso punto di svolta nella saga (e d'altra parte il titolo già lo faceva sospettare) e che è fondamentalmente piuttosto cupo, non concludere su queste "note liete" ma tornando al fatto centrale della trama, la macchinazione contro Jack, le accuse, il processo, la condanna e la cacciata dalla Royal Navy e ora il suo nuovo status di "corsaro" o comandante di una nave da guerra privata.
La trama spionistica ha qui parecchio spazio, e anzi giunge anch'essa a una svolta importante (Stephen scopre finalmente, o meglio gli viene detto da una sorta di deus ex machina, che il traditore all'interno del Servizio informazioni è Wray - la cui caratterizzazione come villain però stavolta è un po' pigra, spero che torni a essere tratteggiato in modo più approfondito -, di cui si era scioccamente fidato, un bel colpo per il nostro solitamente scaltro dottore), ma non è quello che più interessa, no, perché ciò che fa tremare un po' le mani e rende quasi intollerabile la smania di iniziare il prossimo libro sono, ovviamente, i sinistri presagi sullo stato di Jack post-processo, espressi in un brano (a p. 238) che mi piace citare per intero, e che è una delle pagine che più mi ha emozionato dell'intera saga.

Stephen si alzò per scrutare dalla finestra il cielo pomeridiano e, voltandosi verso la stanza, vide Jack illuminato in pieno dalla luce da nord, seduto, quasi in posa per un ritratto. Sembrava più grande di prima, più pesante, profondamente grave, certo, e in certo modo leonino; ma sotto quella gravità impassibile Stephen intuì una ferita che la notizia della Surprise non aveva potuto curare e, sperando di poterla alleviare in qualche misura, soggiunse: «E, in tutta confidenza, mio caro, posso dirti che la nostra guerra non sarà del tutto privata. Tu sai qualcosa delle mie attività; e quando la Surprise non sarà impegnata a danneggiare i commerci del nemico, potrei avere compiti di quel genere da eseguire». Jack afferrò l'idea; espresse il suo compiacimento con un cortese cenno del capo e l'apparenza di un sorriso; ma la ferita rimase aperta. «Questa dannatissima gogna, fratello», continuò Stephen. «Non ha una vera importanza per un uomo innocente, ma può essere spiacevole, come un mal di denti: ti ho somministrato molte volte una pozione per il mal di denti, certamente, ed eccone qui una...» concluse, tirando fuori dalla tasca una bottiglietta, «... che farà superare la gogna come poco più di un sogno: un sogno sgradevole, ma solo debolmente sgradevole, e remoto. L'ho usata su di me con grande effetto.»
«Grazie, Stephen», disse Jack, posando la bottiglietta sulla mensola del camino.
Stephen capì che non aveva nessuna intenzione di prenderla e che la lacerazione profonda era rimasta inalterata. Perché il fatto di non appartenere più alla marina era per Jack Aubrey più doloroso di mille gogne, della perdita della fortuna, della perdita del rango, della perdita del futuro. Era in un certo senso la perdita del suo stesso essere, e chi lo conosceva bene rimaneva sconvolto dall'espressione stranissima dei suoi occhi, di tutto il suo volto.

Ora, io a Jack voglio un bene dell'anima, è il mio patatone e se lui è triste io sono triste, ma sono anche una lettrice crudele e avida di belle storie, e la mia parte "sadica" pensa che un Jack Aubrey disperato e alla deriva sarebbe nuovo ed estremamente, estremamente interessante.

5 stelle: continuo a ritenere Costa sottovento, quel mix perfetto di arguzia, avventura, humor, romance, tensione, il top del top del top, e poco dietro Buon vento dell'Ovest e L'isola della Desolazione; ma questo libro spariglia le carte in modo sensazionale, ed è molto emozionante per chi ormai ha sviluppato un profondissimo attaccamento per questi personaggi, per cui merita secondo me il voto massimo.

[Josiah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Words can't do justice to how good these books are.

[Ken-ichi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another fun romp, but ... the ending! Or lack there of! Now I must buy the next.

Words (that I looked up in a wonderful, dead-tree dictionary, which felt awesome)

andiron (n): the metal stand that holds wood in a fire place (p. 189)
chirurgical (adj): of or pertaining to surgery (from A Sea of Words) (p. 162)
chouse (v): to dupe or swindle (from A Sea of Words) (p. 269)
delf (n): glazed earthenware made in Delft (my dictionary lists it as "delft") (p. 189)
myrmidion (n): a hired goon or lowly servant. This is derived from the Greek root myrmex, which means "ant", but not before passing through a few referrants. (p. 215)
peccant (adj): sinning, causing disease. (p. 167)
pettifog (v): to practice legal trickery or other forms of backhand dealing. My Oxford Encyclopedic English Dictionary postulates that this may derive from a family of merchants in Augsburg named "Fugger" in the 15h-16th centuries, which made me wonder if said family is in any way related to the word "fuck," which my dictionary lists as "origin unknown, 16th c." (p. 219)

[Jamie Collins · Rating 5 out of 5]

A re-read: I'm slowly revisiting this series in audio book format during long drives.

This is the one where Jack Aubrey, who is not always astute on land, is tricked into instigating stock fraud. His prosecution is based on the trial of Lord Cochrane during the Great Stock Exchange Fraud of 1814. The outcome of the trial is heartbreaking, with the very moving scene of Jack facing the pillory, but supported by a huge crowd of naval men.

This book has the lovely scene where Jack is astonished to meet Samuel Panda, and Jack’s reaction is everything you’d hope for (apart from a mild, wistful wish that that Sam were neither black nor a Papist, for which Maturin castigates him).

Poor Stephen learns that Diana has run off again. But he also discovers that his godfather’s will has made him a very rich man, which proves awfully convenient for solving some of Jack’s problems.

When this ended we still had two hours of driving left so we launched right into The Letter of Marque, which picks up the story seamlessly.

I really need to read a biography of Lord Cochrane now. Surely he didn’t have a father as horrible as Jack’s father, did he?

[Vladimiro · Rating 4 out of 5]

Arrivati all'undicesimo capitolo della saga, non penso ci sia bisogno di dirvi le solite cose: il barocchismo dell'autore, l'ironia sempre presente, il sottile distacco con cui il nostro osserva i personaggi, il "meraviglioso" nelle azioni navali.

Il romanzo è nettamente diviso in due parti. Nella prima siamo ancora in mare, sulla Surprise. L'inseguimento della nave corsara "Spartan" è davvero ben descritto, è puro O'Brian "avventuroso". La seconda parte si svolge interamente a terra e vede i nostri in ben altre faccende affaccendati. L'unico difetto che ho trovato nel romanzo è l'eccessiva verbosità dei dialoghi della seconda parte, che in alcuni casi riassumono fatti anche importanti della trama. La seconda parte, poi, tira le somme di molte trame sviluppatesi nei precedenti romanzi, quindi un po' di spaesamento per il lettore è legittimo...

C'è da dire che le premesse dei successivi romanzi sono moooolto avventurose, quindi prevedo grande divertimento in futuro.

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh Jack, such a simpleton...

Never expected the book to bring me close to tears with the characters still alive but that scene was wonderfully written. Off hats to the author's skill.

[Lisa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reverse of the Medal is the 11th book in Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey & Maturin series, and having got this far it’s safe to say it’s one I’ve enjoyed. In fact, that would be rather understating it – at this point I have lost any objectivity I may have once had, and am a fully-fledged fangirl (especially when it comes to Maturin). Reverse of the Medal hasn’t knocked that status at all, and in fact gave me a little more than I’d have expected to stress over, with a turn of events I would never have predicted.

Starting the book still Captain of the Surprise, though he and his crew are seeing her through the last leg of her journey to retirement, Jack spends the first half of the book in his element on his beloved ship, and anxious about his return home having left his financial and legal affairs in a mess and having had a previously unknown of bastard of his turn up on his wife Sophie’s doorstep. Stephen, however, is anxious to find out how things stand between he and his wife, Diana, after news of his association with an attractive woman (all in the pursuit of an intelligence operation) has reached her ears. But setting foot on shore brings far, far worse problems than that, as Lucky Jack Aubrey isn’t anywhere near so lucky on land, and soon finds himself unwittingly caught up in a conspiracy that could see him booted from the service, while Stephen is finding that conspiracies also abound in his intelligence network.

I was so bound up in Reverse of the Medal that I virtually devoured it in one, and with Jack being literally out of his element for the second half of the book I was more far more worried for the outcome than I would ever have been with a tremendous sea battle. Ending on a bit of a cliffhanger, I’m sure I’ll be reading the next book pretty soon, as I’m desperate to find out how the book’s climax affects…well, everything.

**Also posted at Cannonball Read 10**

[Dan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jack always gets in trouble on shore – and here his trouble is extreme as he gets involved and used by the underground spying agencies and by the official politics. Cochrane – the real inspiration behind fictional Jack – was tried, found guilty in the stock exchange fraud case, ordered to stand in the pillory for one hour, and dismissed from the Royal Navy service. To compensate for this and to keep the plot going, Stephen suddenly inherits a very large sum of money and along with Jack will continue the war against Napoleon “in private and in style”. The genius of O'Brian in creating a character like Jack is mainly in the intuition that excellence, courage, recklessness, stupidity, trust, boldness, war-like character, simplicity, and so on go on together – and such a unique character is brilliant at sea and quite a joke on land.

[Patrick · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Reverse of the Medal features the first proper return of Patrick O’Brian’s historical novels to English shores in what seems like a long time. The internal chronology is difficult to establish, since it seems to have been 1812 for a very long time in this world; but it has been several books since Jack and Stephen were back in London, at any rate. On paper it’s notable for being, like The Mauritius Command, another example of the author casting some of his own characters in the place of actual historical figures. The author’s note is candid in its admission that the story is effectively a retelling of a real scandal that involved Lord Cochrane, one of the great seamen of that period. But the book takes some liberties with history, and pursues its own ends at its own pace in telling this particular story.

(Considerable, unavoidable spoilers to follow.)

After the events of The Far Side of the World, the HMS Surprise is slowly making its way home. The expectation is that it’ll be their last journey on that vessel, perhaps forever; there’s a brief by typically gripping sea chase with a privateer, but otherwise, the central event of the early part of the book is the sudden appearance of a young man bearing proof that he is Jack’s son:

‘‘God’s my life,’ said Jack, and after a moment he slowly began to open the package. It contained a sperm-whale’s tooth upon which he had laboriously engraved HMS Resolution under close-reefed topsails when he was a very young man, younger even than the tall youth facing him; it also contained a small bundle of feathers and elephant’s hair bound together with a strip of leopard’s skin…’

The surprise is not so much that Jack should have fathered a bastard; it’s that the bastard should announce himself so suddenly as an educated young black man. He, Samuel Panda, was raised by Catholic missionaries, and appears to have become one too. His appearance in this book is a curious thing: Samuel pops up with little warning, seemingly asks nothing of his father, and he disappears soon after. Though he merits some mention later, it seems like O’Brian is only setting him up here to do something else with him in a later story.

And yet this idea of the illegitimate child making an unexpected reappearance serves as a perfect thematic touchstone for this novel. There’s much which comes home to roost here, and we see here a great drawing together of many of the political threads that have been spinning out in ever longer, ever tangled lines through the previous books. For a long time our heroes were protected from the consequences of their actions simply by being on a ship far away from the rest of the world; now they are back at the centre of the industrialised world, and the world is very much taking an interest in them.

But here, more so than ever before in the series, the book really feels like a celebration of all that has come before. Not only are all our old favourite characters here and on show, they’re gently re-introduced, and sometimes championed. There are whole sequences here which don’t really have any purpose except to be utterly, utterly charming; I’m thinking in particular of the endless cricket match with Jack and his old crew, into which Maturin wanders; and the long and beautifully absurd sequence where the men quite literally take apart every piece of Jack’s house, clean it all, and put it back together, in time for the long-awaited reappearance of his wife. None of this needs to happen for the plot of the book; but it does, and it’s wonderful. As so often in O’Brian’s writing, the musical quality of his prose reaches a peak in those moments when nothing in particular is happening:

‘A cheer from far away changed the current of his mind, and some moments later this was followed by the peculiarly English sound of a bat striking a ball and then by further cries. He passed quickly through what Jack called the rose-garden – lucus a non lucendo – through the shrubbery to the edge of the hill and there below him on a broad meadow was a game of cricket all laid out, the fielders in their places, keenly attentive to the bowler as he went through his motions, the sound of the stroke again, the batsmen twinkling between the wickets, fielders darting for the ball, tossing it in, and then the whole pattern taking shape again, a formal dance, white shirts on the green.’

Having finished the book I think more and more often of those scenes of togetherness. It is in these, I think, in which the book really shows its inner light. Aubrey’s crew are one big family here, one which at times outshines Aubrey’s own actual family. Sophie and the children are present, but their role is relegated to distant, smiling bystanders; and curiously, Diana Viliers is written out of the story through a strange sort of narrative contrivance. But it is the sailors as a collective who really matter here. Each is given his own little moment — Babbington, who began this series as barely more than a boy, is now a captain, and gets his own romantic sub-plot — and there’s even some good lines for the walk-on Irishman, Padeen (‘Will your honor explain the Saxon game now?’). All of this is necessary because in the end they all step up as required to save Aubrey from himself.

Maturin’s position is, as ever, set askance to the rest. He is a beloved part of the crew, but at the same time, he will never quite be the same as them. It’s significant that his main job here is to keep them together by stumping up from his (conveniently vast, hidden) private fortune: he buys the HMS Surprise, which was otherwise due for the wrecker’s yard, with the intent of giving it to Jack. He states several times throughout this book that he’s doing it to save Jack from ‘going mad’ on shore, but his own true reasons are oblique. There’s a real sense, I think, in which Maturin would submit to something much darker if he were divorced utterly from somebody’s service, and left to his own devices. But though he literally says at one point that his personality makes for a poor deux ex machina, that’s exactly his role here; one is tempted to wonder how many other times Jack Aubrey’s career might have come to an ignoble end, had it not been for Stephen’s quiet machinations.

If the events of the scandal follow history, the outcome differs for dramatic effect. What happens is that Jack Aubrey is set up in a kind of stock exchange fraud, which turns out to be far more serious than his previous trouble for private debts. It’s fairly obvious to all concerned that he’s been put up to it by political enemies of his father, but Jack himself has the utmost faith in the British legal system to clear him of any wrongdoing. His judgment on land is, as ever, entirely misguided; he is sentenced to be pilloried. 

This is where the outcome of the story differs from history; Cochrane was also found guilty, but he was never actually put in the stocks, since he was so popular that the authorities feared inciting a riot. Aubrey doesn’t quite have such luck. Though his life is in danger – it wasn’t unknown for people to be very badly hurt from the pillory – the thing that upsets him most is the loss of his position:

‘For to Jack Aubrey the fact of no longer belonging to the Navy counted more than a thousand pillories, the loss of fortune, loss of rank, and loss of future. It was in a way a loss of being, and to those who knew him well it gave his eyes, his whole face, the strangest look.’

This is, in fact, about all we see of his feelings about it. The upstanding Englishman with a distant stare, accepting his fate with a quiet grace that betrays a deeper sense of betrayal. But his men won’t allow him to come to harm. They pour into London, all the old Navy salts who served with him, and they literally crowd out those who’ve arrived with malicious intent. It’s a neat way of drawing a distinction between the good hearted men who serve and the corrupt establishment who command; but again, this seems to me less vital to the novel than the picture of a big, tough, happy family, all gathered around one patriarch to literally shelter him from the world.

It’s an odd thing, the pillory scene. It’s carried off very well. It is not really a serious threat, in the end; it has all the brisk, funny, heartwarming bluster of a Hollywood movie. It might be one of the most affecting moments in the series so far. But what’s remarkable is how sparse it is. O’Brien has this repeated tendency, seen in almost all the novels so far, of cutting off his crescendo just before it hits what we expect to be the most powerful notes. The reader feels they are about to see the scene of Jack in cold irons bound before a jeering crowd; they might even want to know how he would feel, in his head.

But when the thing happens, we’re immediately transported to after the event. We get neither the trauma of the event itself, nor do we encounter his immediate feelings when he’s saved. It’s as though all this might be inconceivable. The author gently whisks us away to someplace else entirely. I can’t quite decide how to feel about this constant sense of climax deferred which comes so often with O’Brian. I enjoy the drama of it, but as so often I’m left with the sense of an author who would prefer not to dwell too long on the worst implications of his own suggestions. 

Perhaps the book’s ultimate suggestion is that this what separates great leaders from the merely adequate. Perhaps they belong, in the end, to something bigger than the organisation which sustains them. It would be nice to think so, though I can’t think of many examples from our own age. 

For me the vision of Jack’s fall from grace works best on the level of human fantasy. There is something wonderfully comforting about the idea of being protected from the world by an actual body of humanity; a body all the more potent for acting of its own free will, and not through discipline. It is a little like the feeling of comfort I get from reading these books: they really do block out the modern world in a way few other novels can. There’s something redemptive, even triumphant, about it: of how Jack’s small wrongness in the moment is overcome by a wider injustice of his trial, only for that to be overcome again by the moment of solidarity. Any reader would want it for themselves, surely; any writer too, perhaps. 

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

NO MALAPROPISM! ONE STAR FOR BREAKING THE STREAK!

A very good entry despite -- for the most part -- not being on a boat. The looming scrapping of the Surprise hangs over the whole thing, which makes it a bit bittersweet, and the fact that at the end Maturin buys it for Jack promises some very interesting directions.

The battle : No battles here -- just setup for one (I suspect) in the next one against an American privateer. There is a chase scene of said privateer, and the tension to that is done very well as both captains try everything they can think of to catch (or not get caught). No boom-booms though.

The scientific : Not a lot here. Maturin and Blaine's shared love of beetles is endearing, as is his and Martin's shared love of birds. There's some interesting asides about how commerce between England and France continues on a wink-wink basis, particularly in the scientific realm as people pass specimens back and forth, or are granted passes to give lectures. Being Maturin, of course he uses this fifth-column to get some spywork done, and someone actually passes him a message via writing it very covertly on a set of innocent-looking bird skeletons sent his way.

The relationships : It's the star of the show here! So many good moments. Maturin buying the Surprise for his friend is just beautiful, though one wonders how Jack will adapt to Stephen being his technical boss. You have to stop at every bird-poop-encrusted island from here to the Galapagos now, my boyo! Maturin trying to find good lawyers for Jack, and willing to wrongfoot himself to do so. Maturin's desperate musings over what's going on with his wife, absent the entire book but a looming presence (catastrophe?) as she has fled the country because of some previous shenanigans. Jack's long-seeded problems with being a complete idiot on land and with money finally catch up with him, as the French spy Andrew Wray sets him up to take the fall in a stock-exchange fraud...because of course Jack would take the stock tip advice of a random guy he'd just met in a bar. Of COURSE he would. Entirely too trusting. And his naive faith that the justice system is totally impartial and he'll be fine, well, that's also touching and sad. A man without flaws, Aubrey is not. It looks like Stephen finally put the pieces together on who the spy is though, and the book ends with him fingering Wray on a bit of an espionage cliffhanger. Honestly, I felt bad for him beating himself up over not realizing it sooner but cmon...you're looking for a double agent, and the high-gambling man who owes a lot of people a lot of money he can't pay but is highly placed in government wasn't the top of your list? Wray wouldn't even get past round one of the most basic security clearance process today. But I guess spying and security procedures were a good deal less evolved in the Napoleonic wars.

The medical : Not much. Maturin treats Martin for a hernia in a way that made me worry we were going to lose our pastor-slash-surgeon's-mate but he came out ok and looks to continue his recurring side-character ways into the next book at least.

There were some allusions to the real-life mutiny on the Hermione, which was an interesting rabbit hole to go down. Some of the Americans captured at the end of the last book turned out to be mutineers in hiding, and Aubrey serves on the court martial that hangs them for it. You could be forgiven for thinking that was fictional but aside from (obviously) Aubrey's presence, it wasn't.

Today's malapropism : THERE ISN'T ONE. The early bird gathers no moss from this book, and I am exceedingly vexed. I had better get two in the next one to make up for this travesty.

11 down, 9 to go!

[Rebeccah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read this in one sitting on a plane and loved and hated every second of it. Loved the book, but hated how they did Jack so dirty. Superb entry to the series, and the first to make me teary-eyed—the scene at the pillory was awful and perfect. And Sophie is such an angel I don’t think Jack deserves her but still want them to be happy. Also I’m heartbroken for Stephen, but am cautiously optimistic things will turn around for our two leads. Also the last scene was wild and I cannot wait to discover the fallout. I have become perhaps unhealthily obsessed with this series, but have no regrets!

[Robert · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is the eleventh in the Aubrey/Maturin series of novels, which stretches to twenty volumes completed in the author's lifetime and a 21st published posthumously having (I assume) been finished or at least tidied up by another.

THIS REVIEW HAS BEEN CURTAILED IN PROTEST AT GOODREADS' CENSORSHIP POLICY

See the complete review here:

http://arbieroo.booklikes.com/post/33...

[Wealhtheow · Rating 4 out of 5]

Captain Jack Aubrey and his particular friend, Dr. Steven Maturin, return to England. Within days of his arrival, Jack's credulous nature (at least on land) and kind heart put him in the crosshairs of a political scandal. While he withstands imprisonment and trial, Steven tries to figure out the truth of the matter.

Another beautifully written novel from O'Brian.

[sidney · Rating 4 out of 5]

get u a man like steve maturin who will buy your ship so u can continue to sail her under a letter of marque when you get removed from the navy for accidentally participating in a plot to defraud the stock exchange <3

[Nooilforpacifists · Rating 3 out of 5]

Primarily of interest to those who know of Lord Cochrane's trial for stock fraud.

[Theo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really e joyed this one. Another entry in the series that is mostly on land and mostly concentrating on Stephen's espionage work.

Once they get to England we immediately see Aubrey fall foul of Land Sharks (not Bulettes from D&D but swindlers) and TBF it is a very cleverly laid plan and it's not even clear to the reader why.

As is often the case with these books, my only issue is how swiftly everything is wrapped up as we get to the final few pages but it's still a great fun read.

[Mitchell Arthur · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 as it started slow and I wasn’t digging it - then I realised it was because this one was intentionally more of a mystery and court drama - and then enjoyed the fresh premise and the expert seeing together of plot points split throughout the last 11 books finishing in a both a spectacular and devastating fashion

[Miguel Angel Pedrajas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Las cosas se complican para el capitán Aubrey. Qué capacidad tenía O’Brian para inventar nuevas tramas o explorar de forma satisfactoria las capacidades de sus personajes.

En esta ocasión, los planes de Aubrey y su carrera se ven afectados por mala suerte, torpeza de algunos miembros de su tripulación o la inquina de los enemigos de Maturin. Y es que los traidores que se han infiltrado en las más altas esferas del servicio secreto británico piensan arruinarle la vida a Jack Aubrey para desestabilizar la eficiencia de Maturin.

Una novela que discurre en su mayoría en tierra, lejos del ámbito que maneja Jack, y donde habrán encerronas, trampas, injurias, complots de todo tipo y un juicio narrado de forma original. Y como siempre, O’Brian se deja lo mejor para el final. ¡Necesito empezar ya la siguiente novela!