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South-Sea Idyls
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207 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1873
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37 people want to read
About the author
Charles Warren Stoddard
55 books4 followersCharles Warren Stoddard was an American author and editor.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
June 13, 2009
South-Sea Idyls by Charles Warren Stoddard is a travelogue told in a series of letters to his friends back home in San Francisco. The book was first published in 1873 and revised in 1892. I have seen South-Sea Idyls classified as both fiction and non-fiction. From my own brief research, I'm calling it non-fiction.
The book has seventeen letters and they bounce around between Tahiti and the Hawaiian islands and points in between. Stoddard starts off the book with letters from his kith and kin back home worried that he'll be miserable on the trip. He's just the opposite and he promptly "goes native." In and amongst his loving descriptions of the native traditions (including hula and luaus) and the gorgeous sunsets, Stoddard also describes the different men in his life. He sometimes dances around his relationships by blaming their native beauty or lamely saying he couldn't tell if his companion was male or female. The latter argument never works because he almost always goes on to say that he doesn't care that he can't tell.
None of his relationships last very long. One he loses to leprosy in a heart breaking scene that reminds me of Richard Rene Silvin describing the deaths of two different long time partners to AIDS related illnesses in Walking the Rainbow. Another lover follows him back to San Francisco but soon leaves him for a woman.
In "Stoddard's Little Tricks" (an excellent essay on the book), Roger Austen begins with the thesis that most contemporary readers of the book were oblivious to the homoeroticism that's threaded through the book. From looking at my own 1905 copy, I can see evidence to prove and disprove that theory. My book was given as a Christmas present from a Mrs. W. Griffin who strikes me as a very prim and proper matronly sort who would have been oblivious to the eroticism of the book. She gave it a Miss Harriet B. Foye.
Harriet B. Foye left her mark on the book in the forms of coffee stains (on the most erotic of pages) and pressed flowers between the pages of the bittersweet breakups. I fully believe she didn't miss anything in South Sea Idyls and re-read the book many times in her life.
South-Sea Idyls is still in print and it's available online. I am happy I found Harriet's old copy at my local Half Price Books. Harriet spent her whole life in the Bay Area and her book continued to stay in the East Bay, not that far from where she lived. Although I didn't know Harriet personally I do feel a connection to her through this book and I thought of her as I read it over my morning coffee (careful not to add any new spills).
The book has seventeen letters and they bounce around between Tahiti and the Hawaiian islands and points in between. Stoddard starts off the book with letters from his kith and kin back home worried that he'll be miserable on the trip. He's just the opposite and he promptly "goes native." In and amongst his loving descriptions of the native traditions (including hula and luaus) and the gorgeous sunsets, Stoddard also describes the different men in his life. He sometimes dances around his relationships by blaming their native beauty or lamely saying he couldn't tell if his companion was male or female. The latter argument never works because he almost always goes on to say that he doesn't care that he can't tell.
None of his relationships last very long. One he loses to leprosy in a heart breaking scene that reminds me of Richard Rene Silvin describing the deaths of two different long time partners to AIDS related illnesses in Walking the Rainbow. Another lover follows him back to San Francisco but soon leaves him for a woman.
In "Stoddard's Little Tricks" (an excellent essay on the book), Roger Austen begins with the thesis that most contemporary readers of the book were oblivious to the homoeroticism that's threaded through the book. From looking at my own 1905 copy, I can see evidence to prove and disprove that theory. My book was given as a Christmas present from a Mrs. W. Griffin who strikes me as a very prim and proper matronly sort who would have been oblivious to the eroticism of the book. She gave it a Miss Harriet B. Foye.
Harriet B. Foye left her mark on the book in the forms of coffee stains (on the most erotic of pages) and pressed flowers between the pages of the bittersweet breakups. I fully believe she didn't miss anything in South Sea Idyls and re-read the book many times in her life.
South-Sea Idyls is still in print and it's available online. I am happy I found Harriet's old copy at my local Half Price Books. Harriet spent her whole life in the Bay Area and her book continued to stay in the East Bay, not that far from where she lived. Although I didn't know Harriet personally I do feel a connection to her through this book and I thought of her as I read it over my morning coffee (careful not to add any new spills).
Want to read
March 6, 2014CONTENTS.
In the Cradle of the Deep 7
Chumming with a Savage.
I. Kána-aná 25
II. How I converted my Cannibal 43
III. Barbarian Days 57
Taboo.—A Fête-Day in Tahiti 80
Joe of Lahaina 112
The Night-Dancers of Waipio 128
Pearl-Hunting in the Pomotous 146
The Last of the Great Navigator 169
A Canoe-Cruise in the Coral Sea 184
Under a Grass Roof 197
My South-Sea Show 202
The House of the Sun 221
The Chapel of the Palms 240
Kahéle 259
Love-Life in a Lanai 283
In a Transport 300
A Prodigal in Tahiti 324
Dedication: TO MY DEAR FRIEND ANTON ROMAN.
Opening: SOUTH-SEA IDYLS.
IN THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP.
FORTY days in the great desert of the sea,—forty nights camped under cloud-canopies, with the salt dust of the waves drifting over us. Sometimes a Bedouin sail flashed for an hour upon the distant horizon, and then faded, and we were alone again; sometimes the west, at sunset, looked like a city with towers, and we bore down upon its glorified walls, seeking a haven; but a cold gray morning dispelled the illusion, and our hearts sank back into the illimitable sea, breathing a long prayer for deliverance.
Once a green oasis blossomed before us,—a garden in perfect bloom, girded about with creaming waves; within its coral cincture pendulous boughs trailed in the glassy waters; from its hidden bowers spiced airs stole down upon us; above all, the triumphant palm-trees clashed their melodious branches like a chorus with cymbals; yet from the very gates of this paradise a changeful[8] current swept us onward, and the happy isle was buried in night and distance.
Looks wonderful!
In the Cradle of the Deep 7
Chumming with a Savage.
I. Kána-aná 25
II. How I converted my Cannibal 43
III. Barbarian Days 57
Taboo.—A Fête-Day in Tahiti 80
Joe of Lahaina 112
The Night-Dancers of Waipio 128
Pearl-Hunting in the Pomotous 146
The Last of the Great Navigator 169
A Canoe-Cruise in the Coral Sea 184
Under a Grass Roof 197
My South-Sea Show 202
The House of the Sun 221
The Chapel of the Palms 240
Kahéle 259
Love-Life in a Lanai 283
In a Transport 300
A Prodigal in Tahiti 324
Dedication: TO MY DEAR FRIEND ANTON ROMAN.
THE COCOA-TREE.
Cast on the water by a careless hand,
Day after day the winds persuaded me:
Onward I drifted till a coral tree
Stayed me among its branches, where the sand
Gathered about me, and I slowly grew,
Fed by the constant sun and the inconstant dew.
The sea-birds build their nests against my root,
And eye my slender body's horny case.
Widowed within this solitary place
Into the thankless sea I cast my fruit;
Joyless I thrive, for no man may partake
Of all the store I bear and harvest for his sake.
No more I heed the kisses of the morn;
The harsh winds rob me of the life they gave;
I watch my tattered shadow in the wave,
And hourly droop and nod my crest forlorn,
While all my fibres stiffen and grow numb
Beck'ning the tardy ships, the ships that never come!
Opening: SOUTH-SEA IDYLS.
IN THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP.
FORTY days in the great desert of the sea,—forty nights camped under cloud-canopies, with the salt dust of the waves drifting over us. Sometimes a Bedouin sail flashed for an hour upon the distant horizon, and then faded, and we were alone again; sometimes the west, at sunset, looked like a city with towers, and we bore down upon its glorified walls, seeking a haven; but a cold gray morning dispelled the illusion, and our hearts sank back into the illimitable sea, breathing a long prayer for deliverance.
Once a green oasis blossomed before us,—a garden in perfect bloom, girded about with creaming waves; within its coral cincture pendulous boughs trailed in the glassy waters; from its hidden bowers spiced airs stole down upon us; above all, the triumphant palm-trees clashed their melodious branches like a chorus with cymbals; yet from the very gates of this paradise a changeful[8] current swept us onward, and the happy isle was buried in night and distance.
Looks wonderful!
July 30, 2021
Joy
Have been a fan of stoddard for a while. Enjoy his stories of life in the south seas. So descriptive that I almost feel I’m there.
Have been a fan of stoddard for a while. Enjoy his stories of life in the south seas. So descriptive that I almost feel I’m there.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews