On his fifteenth birthday, in the summer of 1880, future science-fiction writer M.P. Shiel sailed with his father and the local bishop from their home in the Caribbean out to the nearby island of Redonda—where, with pomp and circumstance, he was declared the island’s king. A few years later, when Shiel set sail for a new life in London, his father gave him some advice: Try not to be strange. It was almost as if the elder Shiel knew what was coming.
Try Not to Be Strange: The Curious History of the Kingdom of Redonda tells, for the first time, the complete history of Redonda’s transformation from an uninhabited, guano-encrusted island into a fantastical and international kingdom of writers. With a cast of characters including forgotten sci-fi novelists, alcoholic poets, vegetarian publishers, Nobel Prize frontrunners, and the bartenders who kept them all lubricated while angling for the throne themselves, Michael Hingston details the friendships, feuds, and fantasies that fueled the creation of one of the oddest and most enduring micronations ever dreamt into being. Part literary history, part travelogue, part quest narrative, this cautionary tale about what happens when bibliomania escapes the shelves and stacks is as charming as it is peculiar—and blurs the line between reality and fantasy so thoroughly that it may never be entirely restored.
The subtitle of this book should possibly be "History of an Obsession" rather than "Curious History of the Kingdom of Redonda". The author has spent years researching what amounts to an inside joke - the imaginary Kingdom of Redonda. I was interested in this book because I am a regular visitor to an island that has a clear view of the island of Redonda, and I had heard of the Kingdom, and knew about as much about it as one can read on Wikipedia. Michael Hingston has, I venture to say, taken the documentation of the kingdom to a level far above what any of its "Kings" or pretenders might have imagined, and has produced what must be the definitive history. All that said, I was in no way bored by the book, indeed it kept me looking up new topics and people, and it introduced me to the work of Javier Marias, the last King of Redonda and a serious candidate for the Nobel Prize, who seems to have been a kind soul (he died last September of complications from COVID). Marias appears to have brought a bit of true personal nobility to his role, and he steadfastly refused to respond to the "pretenders" because as he said, staying in character, it was "beneath the dignity of the King", but also because many of those who wanted to argue with him had a somewhat intermittent hold on reality.
Hingston describes how his fascination with Javier Marias' book, All Souls, first made him aware of the Kingdom, and how he then researched the lives of M.P. Shiel, the first King, and John Gawsworth, the second and last uncontested King. To be blunt, it is quite likely that despite some basis in fact, Shiel may have invented the entire story of his coronation on Redonda by a Bishop of Antigua, though it may also be true that Shiel's father applied to the Colonial Office to be made owner of the island. Shiel and his father were residents of Montserrat, in sight of Redonda, and in 1880, it could have made sense as a proposition, because the British were in the midst of trying to drive American companies off their small outlying islands where the Americans were mining guano without paying taxes to the Brits. But there is no paper trail; all we have are Shiel's statements forty years after the event, and Shiel was nothing if not eccentric.
Shiel appeared to view his assertions of royalty more as a way to draw attention to the novels he was trying to sell, but his young friend and promoter, John Gawsworth, took pains to appear completely serious about the kingdom, while privately acknowledging it was an inside joke. In his old age, Shiel passed the Kingdom to Gawsworth. Gawsworth had a lot of fun with the concept, and held royal councils at his favorite pub, during which he appointed other writers Dukes, Bishops, and the like while amply lubricated with alcohol. Meanwhile, the physical island of Redonda had been abandoned by the miners in 1914, leaving it without permanent human habitation thereafter. Despite Redonda being rather massive, almost one thousand feet tall and over a mile in length, there is no source of fresh water, and very little vegetation; the goats imported by the mining company saw to that. So no one had any great desire to live there.
Like Shiel, Gawsworth was a writer, and a poet, and early in his career he was a successful editor and anthologist. But as time went by, his drinking got the best of him, and by the last two years of his life he was homeless, and dependent on friends for financial support. One of these friends was Jon Wynne-Tyson, who by all accounts was the antithesis of Shiel and Gawsworth: sober, sensible, an editor and a family man. But in some garbled manner, Gawsworth bequeathed his kingship to Wynne-Tyson, after having tried to sell it a few times to raise funds.
And the whole thing might have subsided into obscurity, as Wynne-Tyson had no real interest in being king....until a wealthy American became aware of the legend and offered to fly Wynne-Tyson to the Caribbean and transport him to Redonda where he could plant the royal flag of the Kingdom of Redonda on the summit of the island. Is this strange enough for you yet? Wynne-Tyson, a man of modest means, did not decline the generous offer, and subsequently became much more active as king, reinstituting royal councils, etc. As a literary person, Wynne-Tyson was aware of Javier Marias, who had name-checked John Gawsworth and Redonda in his book, All Souls, and he began a correspondence with Marias. This resulted in Wynne-Tyson, in his seventies, abdicating in favor of Marias (King Xavier), who Wynne-Tyson rightly viewed as the perfect person to continue the legacy of Redonda, given Marias' gentle humor and love of fantastical fun, and Marias drew into the Kingdom's orbit many real literary and artistic stars, who were delighted to have dukedoms or bishprics bestowed on them by someone as big-hearted as Javier Marias.
There are other pretenders to the throne whom Hingston discusses, such as Bob the Bald, but these are mostly just yachties who thought the kingdom was a good reason for a party and good bit of drinking. Hingston finally made it to the Caribbean to see Redonda, and he tells the very interesting story of the ecological rebirth of the island through the efforts of a group of Antiguan volunteers, the Antigua Environmental Awareness Group, who received critical support from NGO's. Basically, within months of eradicating the rats on Redonda, followed by the removal by helicopter of all goats, vegetation began to rebound, and birds began to nest again. There is a documentary coming out on the 30th of this month (Sep 2023) about this amazing and successful environmental rehabilitation of the island. Hingston himself had a very harrowing hike up the extremely steep side of Redonda, but managed to get to the upper grassy area. He then nearly killed himself getting back down, and decided one trip to Redonda was enough.
Interesting read in which the author's intense interest in his subject carries the reader along.
How I read this: Free ebook copy received through Edelweiss
Wow. If you asked me what's the most random book I've ever read... it could very well be this one. But not in a bad way!
Try Not to Be Strange is all about this little sort of mostly imaginary kingdom of Redonda, it's convoluted history of more or less imaginary royalty and its lineage, and a little adventure in visiting it. Redonda is a real uninhabited island in the Caribbean with one of those legends of royalty, where someone claims they're king and everyone else, or - well, most people - agree to be in on the joke. Except that with Redonda, not even that many people know, but the ones who do are mostly in the literary world. And some of them squabble about who's who.
That's about all I can say about it, the rest is in the book - which is truly a very curious piece of nonfiction, hard to even categorize because it's just so... Random. It starts off with how the story began, and the quite detailed histories of some very problematic writers from the beginning of the 20th century who were the first "kings". After that the number of kings increased, but that's all well and good, cause the author doesn't go into too much detail about all the ones who came after that.
Try Not to Be Strange was a remarkably random, somewhat meandering read which was nonetheless quite a great way to spend my time, actually. I hope some of these odd facts will remain in my head and will become useful one day during a trivia round or something. I don't know if I'm better off for knowing about Redonda, but I definitely enjoyed getting to know about it.
I thank the publisher for giving me a free copy of the ebook in exchange to my honest review. This has not affected my opinion.
it began with a single line in javier marías's all souls, read some 9 years ago and followed that very evening by a couple of frustrated online hours trying to discover, uncover, learn, discern, find, and figure out the truth behind the island kingdom of redonda (if, in fact, it even really existed in the first place). whereas my own scant pursuit of the redondan legend lasted not much longer than it took to read the novel from whence i'd first heard of it... michael hingston's own quest spanned almost a decade, thousands of dollars, and a pair of bloodied shins.
hingston's try not to be strange is not just the curious history of the kingdom of redonda, but also an unbelievable, spellbinding, and impressively researched one. beginning in the late 19th century and moving across the dark back of time into present day, try not to be strange offers the true tale of the tiny caribbean micronation (smaller than a single square mile) and the many (often conflicting) claims to its sovereign leadership. from the kingdom's monarchical origin as a birthday present to a british teenager (who'd later find acclaim as a popular science fiction writer) to an inside joke among bookish friends to an ongoing hoax of literary proportions to disparate disputes of rightful heirs, hingston's book is an altogether wild ride.
with moxie and enthusiasm aplenty, try not to be strange bestows upon readers the same quixotic, obsessive passion which no doubt first inspired its author. from the initial spark of curiosity to his culminating pilgrimage, hingston's writing resounds with an infectious, irrepressible zeal. while the story of redonda is engrossing enough all on its own, hingston's personal stake in the mystery adds lively dimensions of both color and character. whether already steeped in redondan lore or entirely new to the diminutive rocky realm, try not to be strange is sure to amuse, enchant, and quite possibly have you wondering why the hell you now feel compelled to get there all of a sudden too (and imagining just how mesmerizing it would be to see the endemic redonda ground dragons up close as well!).
Easily one of the best books I have ever read. Incredibly well researched, the author is funny, engaged, as skeptical as any sane person should be and just so honest about everything from the research, to his own obsession… and beyond. I cannot recommend this more. Chef’s kiss.
This is a book that, the deeper you dive into it, the more bizarre and preposterous the story seems, but then the only possible explanation for its wakadoodleness is that it is one hundred percent completely true. No wonder the author became so obsessed with this island and it’s royalty!
(3.5 stars) This is a fascinating truth-stranger-than-fiction tale. The writing is decent and the story a good one.
I think sometimes Hingston delved into less interesting bits than he could have -- lots of doddering about by aging white male writers of questionable output that seem quite stuffy and incredibly priveleged, for example -- but there were some great vignettes and crunchy bits of storytelling to make up for it. M.P. Shiel's background and work are fascinating, for example, and the book makes a very compelling case for visiting Montserrat. I wanted to hear more about the folks who live and work there, as they seemed much kinder, more real, and more down-to-earth than just about anyone else in the book.
Most of the other characters aren't really that likeable, and I was repeatedly struck by how few of them would be worthy of a tale on their own, but somehow they were all woven into a story that's much more charming than most of them seem to have been. The relative lack of women in the history/mythology of Redonda hurts the story, I think (and I really think that, I don't think I approach everything through the lens of feminism as a general rule -- I was just trying to put a finger on what felt sort of unsatisfying about the characters and the story, and I legitimately think that's part of it).
I find myself completely unable to pin down one or even a handful of themes of one or two words each. The story, in its nature, is all over the board. That's part of its fascination, but also makes its appeal a little challenging and certainly makes it difficult to classify.
I do love the title.
I read a DRC via Edelweiss thanks to the publisher. This is my honest review.
Redona is a tiny island in the Antilles, midway between Nevis and Montserrat. In the 1880s J.P. Shiels, who was a young boy, sailed to the island with his father, who was a bishop. His father held some kind of ceremony and declared J. P to be the King of Redona.
Shiels moved to London and became a moderately successful writer of thrillers and early science fiction. In the 1920s Shiels wrote a short publicity piece "About Myself". For the first time, he announced that he was the King of Redona. It was hard to tell if he was serious or not.
The Kingdom of Redona took on a life of its own. When Shiels died an English writer, John Gawsworth, claimed the title. Most recently the very successful Spanish author, Javiar Marias, claims to be the King of Redona. There are multiple claimants to the throne, each of whom hotly contests the bone fides of all of the others.
Shiels told different stories about who his successor would be. Gawsworth was constantly broke and gave away the title multiple times. Once he paid rent to a landlord by naming him the King of Redona.
The important thing is that nobody knows what it means to be the King of Redona. The actual island is a territory of Antigua. Many of the literary characters involved in the story think of the island as a prank, a joke, or a metaphor. Various contenders have named nobles and issued decrees. Some of those involved at times seem to think they are dealing with real royal positions.
Michael Hingston stumbled on the story in 2013. He read a novel by Marias. The novel told the story of Shiels and Gawsworth and the Kingship of Redona. He discovered that the story was not completely fictional. He became obsessed with unraveling the story of the Kingdom of Redona.
This is the story of his slowly unwrapping the tangled history. He tracks downs old books. He gets relatives to send him papers. He interviews the few people who can help him understand the story. The acknowledgements section has the great sentence; "I spoke to several kings and one queen over the course of writing this book, which is not a sentence I expect I will ever be able to write again."
It is a fun book filled with great cameos by people like Dylan Thomas, Lawrence Durrell and Pablo Picasso. There are no answers at the end of the book. Hingston actually goes to Redona but this thing, the Kingdom of Redona, is still amorphous, confusing and contested even after he sees it.
A smart guy and a good writer chasing after a bizarre and mysterious story full of literary eccentrics, cranks, and zealots, what could be more fun than that?
Bonus vocabulary word.
"Beginning with State Paper 1, every document, every public statement, and every ounce of Redondan public spectacle was delivered in strict KAYFABE."
KAYFABE - in professional wrestling, presenting staged events as genuine or authentic.
Try Not To Be Strange is a fascinating work of literary and Caribbean history told with a quaint, romantic quality that makes it sound and feel like fiction but is in fact true.
Redonda is a tiny island near Montserrat and under Antiguan governance (officially). In the late 1800s it is gifted to a teen boy, M.P Shiel, by his father, who makes the boy King of the island. Shiel largely ignores its existence, only mentioning the island by name once in his long writing career, but nevertheless names poet John Gawsworth as successor of this tiny, uninhabitable island "kingdom". Gawsworth, whose given himself the name King Juan I, turns it into a widespread inside joke: "Redonda under King Juan would be defined by a total, straight faced commitment to the bit."
While the kingdom was of very little consequence to Shiel, Gawsworth takes his title and runs with it, even giving noble titles to his friends and contemporaries, who accept them with appropriate aplomb. The entire concept straddles the line between fiction and reality for over a century, with new kings being named and others claiming the throne along the way. Flags (made of pyjamas), coats of arms, and a national anthem are even created, pushing Redonda closer to legitimacy and blurring the line even further. Redonda is so small and of so little consequence that the Antiguan government, for their part, lets the eccentric writers, artists, and academics have their fun.
Overall, a spellbinding, lighthearted, fun read. Highly recommend!
“To a certain type of reporter—and in turn to a certain type of reader—Redonda was catnip. In a fiercely competitive news market, the story of a semi-fictitious kingdom, located in an exotic, faraway land but administrated by a group of writers and intellectuals scattered across London, was guaranteed to attract eyeballs. It was simply too good, and too strange, of a tale to pass up.”
—
I must be a certain type of reader, because Micheal Hingston’s Try Not to be Strange: A Curious History of the Kingdom of Redonda is most definitely catnip for me. I was first introduced to the kingdom of Redonda by R.B. Russell of Tartarus Press in his Fifty Forgotten Books, and soon thereafter stumbled upon Hingston’s meticulously researched, hilarious, and contemplative book on the legend of this uninhabited micronation.
Aside from what I learned in that initial introduction, I went into this book knowing very little about Redonda, M. P. Shiel (King Felipe I), John Gawsworth (King Juan I), Jon Wynne-Tyson (King Juan II), Javier Marías (King Xavier I), and the various other claimants to the throne that followed. I’m happy that was the case, because Hingston’s recounting of the bizarre, fascinating, and at times disturbing events surrounding Redondan history kept me glued to the page from start to finish.
I’ll leave it at that, because I want you to experience the story for yourself while supporting a talented Canadian author and independent bookstore/publisher (Biblioasis Books), both of whom deserve to be celebrated for bringing this book into the world.
It is hard to know how to rate this book. On the one hand, the shaggy dog story of this mythical kingdom is well-researched and often laugh out loud funny. In the 1860s, MP Shiel, a mixed race young man from Montserrat, was jokingly ‘gifted’ a small uninhabited island by his father. Shiel became an author in England. He, in turn, bequeathed it to his literary executor, a poet named John Gawarth. From then on, the claimants, mostly writers, to this mythical kingdom abounded, currently including a Spanish novelist, a writer for yachting magazines, and a Montserrat boat owner. Unfortunately, many of the ‘colourful’ characters are quite evil. Shiel raped young girls, Gawarth beat his wife, and the complicated mock history of stamps and coins and honorary dukedoms to famous writers often seems like an irritating game played by overgrown boys. Michael Hingston becomes a character in the story he’s telling, but the arc of the story sometimes gets lost in the sheer nastiness of the people involved.
Since there are so few reviews for this book, I feel that I must say something.
Try Not to Be Strange is a strange book. You'll probably find it shelved in the History section, where it rightly belongs - but it doesn't really feel that way. Instead, it feels like a dream. It's often dizzying, with many twists and turns that make it seem an impossible reality.
I think the best way to read this book is with as little information as possible beforehand. It's a book that encourages you to keep reading with its absolutely unpredictable hooks. That being said, I did find my attention waning as the chapters on Gawsworth seemed to go on a little beyond my preference - but after these chapters ended, I was once again captivated.
It’s a bit meandering, but I think that works because the whole history really is. I wish that the “oh crap, this Caribbean island has been co-opted by white absentee authors” part had come not in the second to last chapter, because I think there is a lot of interesting stuff there that I wish could have been dug into more deeply. Like, is it colonialism if there are no people to be colonized? That’s an interesting conundrum! And the ecological preservation efforts are also cool. So I wish that had been more of the book. But as-is, I really enjoyed it and can’t wait to tell other people about it.
On his fifteenth birthday, M.P. Shiel was crowned king of the tiny Caribbean island of Redonda. Try Not to Be Strange tells the full story of how this uninhabited, guano covered island became a whimsical kingdom of writers, poets, and literary eccentrics. Michael Hingston explores the friendships, feuds, and fantasies behind one of the world’s most peculiar micronations, blending literary history, travelogue, and quirky storytelling into a tale where reality and imagination collide
Did not finish this one. Got about halfway through and realized that I just don't care about any of the people in this story and actively dislike most of them. This does not inspire me to keep reading to find out more about the imaginary kingdom they founded.
I love a good obscure obsession, and my favourite parts of this book were learning how the author became fixated on such a remote part of literary history. Also, the island seems pretty cool.