I'm cruising through Patrick O'Brian's Aubrey/Maturin series which comprises a mighty collection of enjoyable, well-researched yarns set at sea during the Napoleonic wars early in the nineteenth century. The connecting thread is the naval career of a John-Bull archetype, Captain Jack Aubrey, in the company of his best friend, ship's surgeon and an Admiralty spy, the cerebral, physically Gollum-like Stephen Maturin, obsessed with the study of nature and physiology, and woefully unlucky in love. The pair regularly play music together in the captain's cabin and occasionally share confidences, but more often co-exist separately while pursuing their own dramas, sometimes but not often as rivals. Jack's an extrovert, a plain speaker and an adventurer, never more at home than in hand-to-hand ship-to-ship combat or trimming and breaking in a vessel to its maximum possible speed and battle efficiency. Stephen is more introverted, eccentric and obsessive, a widely-read intellectual and a loner prone to murky moods. This review will serve for all the books. (And a tip: don't be prejudiced by the -- in my opinion -- flawed Peter Weir effort at capturing the series for the big screen in Master and Commander: the leads were badly miscast and the O'Brian magic was missing, though there was a certain amount to commend.)
As in all series, a structural pattern emerges. On entering each story we'll find the pair on land yearning for an assignment, and the author skilfully paints their social, financial and practical ineptitudes off-water. Then a ship is given them, accompanied by a mission, with Stephen usually charged with certain duties of Crown espionage. The ship, as it's shaped to Jack's sailing and fighting tastes, usually becomes one of the story's characters, whereby Jack always wants to take an enemy or privateer because therein lies his fortune: spoils and booty. O'Brian has researched every aspect of Regency naval life including its conventions, politics, systems and flaws, and weaves his knowledge deftly into his plots. After some period traveloguing, there'll be a battle and a victory or a loss, propelling us into the next book.
The prose is always more than workmanlike, the suspense supple enough to keep you in. Characterisations are lively and vivid, if rarely passionate, though Jack, refreshingly, exhibits plenty. The tales don't quite rollick, but come close: the author is a sanguine spirit, occasionally cryptic, a habitual dry archness sometimes demanding the reader extricate events from between lines, but never irksomely so. Though English, his pseudonym is Irish, and he enjoys a little irony.
Where the books soar is when the ships sail. No one has written boats at sea better: you feel every droplet and you swoop with every gust that fills the sails. He has no patience for ignorance, you have to keep up with the terminology, but there's a handy diagram of a ship as the frontispiece with every sail labelled. The sailing bits and the battles are exhilarating, founded in meticulous and engaging informative preparation within the narrative, and comprehensive elucidation about every pivotal character caught in the conflicts. The series is worth reading for the author's love of the sea, and his gift for rendering it incarnate with words and paper. Grab one of these books if you see one, they're grownup fun.