When this novel was published in 1966 (Prokosch’s last but two), it probably couldn’t avoid comparison with Golding’s Lord of the Flies, because the starting points for the two plots are so similar. The only difference is that the group of people shipwrecked on the Cassandra are adults (there is one kid). They find themselves on an unknown island where at first their community seems idyllic. Then ruptures start to appear, the group splits several ways, and all its members go on to their various fates, in some instances gruesome: the bluestocking lady entomologist gets impaled, in the book’s sort-of-climax, on an ivory phallus by some play-acting natives. Frankly, it was this contingency, mentioned in some reviews, that primarily got me curious in the first place. I am a sucker for a baroque death scene.
Awesome writing, with detailed description of a strange "exotic' island. It had the casual racism of the 20th century though.
It is sort of (emphasis on sort of) like William Golding's "Lord of the Flies" (1954) but with adults not kids. People from different social classes and races meet on a ship for a journey from Asia to Australia. There is a lot of conversation about human nature and purpose...and a lot of the "N" word thrown around but it was set in 1938, so...*shrugs*
I almost DNF having already known the ending and not being in the mood for it, but the novel is fascinating, and I enjoyed the fauna/flora description, and some of the conversation. There is an unresolved mystery at the end, I wanted to know if the ship was sabotaged, or it was an accident. On the island, one of the survivors, for reasons we were never told, instigated a conflict that shattered their idyllic first few days (or weeks).
The savagery/barbarism of 'uncivilized' tribes was a cliche, and I am glad that the ending wasn't as I remembered. You can call this novel a battle for survival as humans stripped away from all that we know, and against brutal natural elements which are as beautiful as they can be deadly.
Per una mania che devo aver sviluppato in tenera età, unica ragione che spieghi come mai sia a tal punto inestirpabile, quando inizia il bel tempo mi torna la fissa per giungla, naufragi, isole deserte, avventure e distopie esotiche: e Frederic Prokosch è servito! Scovato girellando per il centro di Roma nel banco delle occasioni esposto fuori dalla Liberia Cesaretti al Piè di Marmo, il romanzo di Prokosch è uscito lo stesso anno di Il signore delle mosche ma non è stato baciato dalla stessa lunga fortuna. L'ambientazione sulla nave e poi misteriosamente esotica, la galleria di personaggi da Cluedo, le accurate ed efficaci descrizioni dei paesaggi, della flora e della fauna tropicali che amo e la saggezza da vecchia ricca viveuse di Mrs. Domingo hanno esaudito tutti miei desideri di lettura. Peccato che, come in Goulding, i misteri restino irrisolti...