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Audiobook
First published April 25, 2024
I went to sea a girl dressed as a boy, and I come back as something else entirely. I come back sea-seasoned: watchful of winds, and with an eye on the tides. I do not know if I have come back wiser, or better or perhaps madder. But I am not the same. What the sea takes, it does not return.
Most pirates know the rules: go in fierce and fast, and the captains will beg for quarter, just as Payton did, and the Spaniards now do too.
A bird that can pounce from the top of the mainmast to skewer a sardine in the water, or snatch a crab from under rock and find out its soft parts, is a bird that sees well, and clear. It counts, this witnessing. To live your life under the vigilance of a crow is a kind of covenant.
Next to Anne Bonny, so bold and notorious, I had thought myself meek and colourless, and my story of little note. Yet she never tires of asking me about my years in the navy, and the army. Even my years on the Walcheren, which to me seem largely drab, fascinate Anne.
‘[My mother] has raised me to be a boy, and she says it is for the money, but sometimes I wonder if it isn’t also so the world will treat me kinder than it has treated her. But that means she hates me too, now that I am a boy and on my way to becoming a man. The older I get, the angrier at me she becomes, and I never know if it is because I am not good enough at playing a man, or because I am too good at it.’This novel tickled the back of my mind in the most gratifying manner. Francesca de Tores moulds her novel around archetypal source material, the fascination with which we have all mostly internalised: the shapeshifting of women (‘This is the way of it: women making space, and men taking it.’). I love it when contemporary fiction calls allusion into play and re-shapes or adds onto what we already hold in the collective ‘read’ shelf of our consciousness. Yet what I thought would be a tragi-comic spectacle, actually revealed itself quite early on as a sensitive discourse on what it means to claim an identity:
‘Tell me your crow name. Tell me the name you will wear to the bottom of the sea. Tell me the name shaped to fit every part of you, instep and underarm and the exact curve of your ear. Tell me the name you hear someone calling in a dream, and wake with your mouth already open to reply. Tell me the name that the crows would say, black-voiced, because everybody knows a crow cannot lie.’And with this gorgeous image, I thought of Ovid’s Crow, who – in the ‘Metamorphoses’ Metamorphoses– illustrates the necessity of holding your tongue, of keeping a secret.
'I believe all bodies are as loose as the bodies in [ancient myths]. Zeus changes into a swan [...]; Daphne changes into a tree [...]. I figure there is a truth running through these tales like a thread of gristle through meat: that you can be one thing, and then another. Sometimes it's a threat; sometimes it's a promise.'In fact, far from melodrama, ‘Saltblood’ is a finely wrought inquiry into emotional being. Mary Read, our protagonist, is as much a shapeshifter as any of Ovid’s figures and she unabashedly calls upon that most iconic of Ovid’s metamorphs, Daphne:
‘For an hour, as I clean the drawing room fireplace, I keep the [cherry] stone in my mouth like a dislodged tooth. In the end I swallow it. For days I dream a cherry tree will grow in me. I think of Grandmother’s book of myths, and the picture of Daphne, half woman and half tree, taking refuge in her own branches. I think of the hardness of women and the softness of wood. I remember the sour-sweetness of the cherry and how it split under my tongue. At night, in my narrow bed, I clench my hand then unfurl it like a leaf, and imagine how boughs might grow from me.’As for Tores’ writing style, every phrase here can be mined, nothing is flimsy or surface-level; there is craft and gravity borne out in her style. With each piece of technical wowzery and with each looping-back to earlier established imagery, Tores builds upon the reading pleasure, and I found her work elicited a kind of primal satisfaction in me.