Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson was a Scottish novelist, poet, and travel writer, and a leading representative of English literature. He was greatly admired by many authors, including Jorge Luis Borges, Ernest Hemingway, Rudyard Kipling and Vladimir Nabokov.
Most modernist writers dismissed him, however, because he was popular and did not write within their narrow definition of literature. It is only recently that critics have begun to look beyond Stevenson's popularity and allow him a place in the Western canon.
A friend lent me these tales and as I read them I did remember having come across at least two of them before, probably in a Scottish anthology. One was “Thrawn Janet”, which was rather a ‘dour’ story (meaning dark and gloomy, in Scots). That reminds me to say that the Scots may be an issue here for anyone for whom English is not their native language. It was a bit of an issue for me in “The Merry Men”, for a different reason. The story takes place in the west, off the island of Mull, but the dialogue is written in Scots, which is not normally associated with that part of Scotland.
But I’m racing on. “Thrawn Janet” seems to encapsulate the worst of a small Scottish town, sternly religious to the highest levels of hypocrisy, except for the minister, whom the parishioners suspect of intending to ‘read’ his sermons, instead of extemporising (this a heinous sin in the early days of Reformation in the Scottish Kirk). Janet is the obvious victim of the tale; but it is the minister who grows more and more dour with the years – I felt the life was being squeezed out of him by the ‘guid fowk o' the toon’.
Robert Louis lived at a time when this rather extremist thinking would have been part and parcel of living in a wee Scottish town. Seemingly without effort, he imbues it with humour and carries it boldly into the realm of ‘ghaists and bogles’ (the supernatural). Let me at this point say that in the prefatory note, written by his wife, all this is made clear by the context. The Stevenson family had taken a holiday cottage near Pitlochry, where they experienced from June onwards “nothing but cold rains and penetrating winds” (and I recall at this point that this is where my family and I have a holiday booked for next October!). Here is Mrs Stevenson (formerly Fanny Osbourne):
“The only books we had with us were two large volumes of the life of Voltaire, which did not tend to raise our already depressed spirits. Even these, removed by my husband’s parents one dreary Sunday as not being proper “Sabba’-day reading”, were annexed by the elder couple, each taking a volume. Thrown entirely on our own resources for amusement, we decided to write stories and read them to each other; naturally these tales, coloured by our surroundings, were of a sombre cast.”
She adds that by the time the tale of Thrawn Janet was finished,
“my husband had fairly frightened himself, and we crept down the stairs clinging hand in hand like two scared children.”
The title of the volume is that of the first story, “The Merry Men”, which I enjoyed principally for the descriptions of an extremely dangerous sea off the south-west coast of Mull. The “Merry Men” are great, carnal, breakers, at the start of the tale “no more than caps of foam”, but whose lethal properties, of course, come into play, nicely balanced, I felt, with the human greed and recklessness driving human beings into their grasp. The story itself was weak; the descriptions tremendous. Here is Mrs Stevenson again,
"The story itself, overshadowed by its surroundings, did not come so easily as Thrawn Janet, and never quite satisfied its author, who believed that he had succeeded in giving the terror of the sea, but had failed to get a real grip on his story.”
The descriptions, though! Here, the storm is brewing:
“For, first, the storm that I had foreseen was now advancing with almost tropical rapidity. The whole surface of the sea had been dulled from its conspicuous brightness to an ugly hue of corrugated lead; already in the distance the white waves, the “skipper’s daughters”, had begun to flee before a breeze that was still insensible on Aros; and already along the curve of Sandaig Bay there was a splashing run of sea that I could hear from where I stood. The change upon the sky was even more remarkable. There had begun to arise out of the south-west a huge and solid continent of scowling cloud: here and there, through rents in its contexture, the sun still poured a sheaf of spreading rays; and here and there, from all its edges, vast inky streamers lay forth along the yet unclouded sky. The menace was express and imminent. Even as I gazed, the sun was blotted out. At any moment the tempest might fall upon Aros in its might.”
I’d like to quote a paragraph on the storm itself, but must bear in mind that I haven’t mentioned the other stories yet. Just a quick word on each!
“Will o’the Mill” was quite different, stilled as in a dream. I found this story movingly philosophical. Will seems to sum up the human condition; if his dream becomes reality, he loses it, loses what is perhaps dearer than what life offers. “Markheim” was powerful, psychologically compelling and at the same time addressing the fundamental questions of religious faith – justice, repentance and forgiveness. “Olalla” was the other story I remembered having come across; here RLS seems consciously to delve into Victorian sensationalism, and he maintained the mysterious threads of the slight story with his unequalled powers of atmospheric description. The end embraced Victorian faith and duty, but the dawning of a greater understanding in the protagonist elevates the final paragraph.
The final tale is “The Treasure of Franchard”, where RLS indulged himself (and his readers) with a foray into the philosophy of the bourgeois and its essential pragmatism. I did enjoy it, although I was guilty, in the middle, of doubting Robert Louis’ ability to carry off the ending with anything like narrative interest; but, of course, he did, and what’s more, it was even a happy ending! And that in itself made me smile as I closed the book.
Moody, atmospheric—a story of the sea so vivid in its descriptions that I could practically taste the salt air. I had a tougher time deciphering the dialogues; one of the characters makes many long-winded speeches (rants?) in what I can only describe as a strong Scottish dialect. This adds flavor to the story but makes the reading a bit more difficult for readers unused to it. The plot is spare (thin?) and ends abruptly. For such a long short story, not much happens, and what story remains is a bit on the odd side. But oh! Those evocative descriptions! Easily the best part of the book.
[Read as part of a Collected Works of Stevenson.] The Merry Men feels more like a good idea for a novel than it is a finished novella. As it stands, this three-chapter story of shipwrecks, madness and mystery seems to do everything by halves. The story runs roughly like this: young man leaves his university to visit his uncle and beloved female cousin (and wife hopeful...I guess this was before genetics put the halt to marrying first cousins) at their home by the sea. His visit is not purely social: he has deduced -- he believes -- the location of a long-lost sunken treasure. He is hardly there when he notices a great deal of new(ish) finery and a clear change in the behaviour of his almost jarringly pious uncle. In no time, he finds that 1) his uncle's gone nuts, having something to do with a shipwreck in their bay and the burial of a man, and 2) someone else is about, also looking for the sunken treasure. Things spiral slightly out of control and there is death on the agenda for someone. Somewhere in here is a mighty, mighty story but Stevenson cuts it all too short. It ends up too long and complicated to survive as a tidy short story, but not long enough to do justice to all the elements he's introduced. The Merry Men (the titular men being a nickname for some particularly robust waves that sound like men at drunken revelry) fits nicely tonewise between major Stevenson works like Jekyll & Hyde and Treasure Island: not quite a ghost story, somewhere near the neighbourhood of the House of Usher, with some bits of his love of things nautical thrown in for good measure. It almost seems like he wrote this drunk, or woke up from a particularly vivid dream and scrawled it in a frenzy before falling back to sleep, and never went back to make sure all the plot points worked out in a satisfying manner. Instead, it just leaves this reader unsatisfied, a little mystified and strangely wanting more.
The stories in this collection are linked by being largely moral in nature. The Merry Men focuses on guilt, conscience and payment for sins; Markheim follows a similar line with a supernatural interference; Thrawn Janet is an episode of a priest and a possessed woman; Will O' the Mill is a contemplation on whether it is better to experience all the world or live a simple life; Olalla is a bizarre story of a fallen and ruined family and choosing to sacrifice personal happiness to prevent future evil; finally The Treasure of Franchard highlights the importance of family, simple things and the evils of money, at least too much of it in the wrong hands.
Despite that, none of them beat the reader over the head with didactic ramblings, and each story has a charm and character of its own to keep the reader intrigued. Olalla ends disappointingly to mine, but the hook of the secret was only just strong enough to keep me going with it anyway. The descriptions in The Merry Men, of the raging sea and the desolate land, are beautifully rendered in true Stevenson style.
In all, this is a pleasant and enjoyable collection, but not one of much mark.
The Merry Men are a series of dangerous rock formations off the northern coast of Scotland … they are the setting for this startling story of the nineteenth century … also included in this volume are other works: “Thrawn Janet,” “Will o’ the Mill,” “Markheim,” “Olalla,” and “The Treasure of the Franchard” … Stevenson is indeed a powerful teller of tales …
Six short stories by the creator of 'Dr Jekyl and Mr Hyde', some of them very much in the same vein, with men doing battle with the diabolical halves of their own nature, from which they conjure up devils, 'bogles' and other kinds of tormenting demon.
'The Merry Men' has nothing to do with Robin Hood. It is rather a story of sunken ships, superstition and insanity in the north of Scotland, the Marry Men being the name given to a broiling stretch of coastal water which makes a suggestive sound as 'when savage men have drunk away their reason, and, discarding speech, bawl together in their madness by the hour'.
In 'Will o’ the Mill' a miller's son from an isolated upland valley thinks about setting out for the city and of taking a wife, but decides instead to live a simple life all the way through until that final journey we all make. A sweet, sad little story that lingers in the mind.
'Markheim' is a murderer offered a deal by the devil himself at the scene of his crime, and 'Thrawn Janet' is a cursed woman that a young minister comes to pity, though the locals claimed she 'was sib to the deil'.
'Olalla' has an injured soldier in Spain convalescing in the residencia of a degenerate aristocratic family with a bewitching daughter. Strong on gothic atmosphere, the family's awful secret is never stated outright, though a careful reader will spot a fairly obvious clue at a critical moment.
'The Treasure of Franchard' is the odd one out, a humorous rather than a horrific tale, with a philosophical country doctor and his wife adopting a young boy and teaching him the virtues of a simple life, with one particular phrase sticking out: ‘If necessary, wreck the train.’
This the best collection of stories I have yet read by Stevenson.
A long short story, or a novella. HEAVY on the description of the geography of the area and the weather. A chore to read. First person narrator, little dialog, little exchange between characters. Coast of Scotland, the Merry Men of the title are rocks offshore, not men. When we meet the uncle he is already unhinged. I guess living in this environment did it? Part of a collection of RLS short stories/novellas. Oh, and then most of one whole chapter is taken up with the uncle speaking in Scottish dialect - churn your way through that! In the end the story does not justify the effort it takes to read what should otherwise be a quick, enjoyable read with a series of horrifying events and humans.
If I had not read Treasure of Franchard, I'd have said this guy has something against proper climaxes and (rating would've been lesser I guess). You'll like the way he builds it up but seldom the way it ends. Not a waste of time though if you are into some dark reading
All three of the short stories by Robert Louis Stevenson I've read have been hard work, but this was the hardest and for me didn't really feel worth it - it might potentially be a me problem, I just don't think that I've ever been particularly attracted to books about the sea, shipwrecks, and so on. This one was so dense and difficult to follow that I actually had to look up the plot after I finished which I've never done before.
The themes of good, evil, and sin are the redeeming quality of this book, but it really wasn't for me.
Was part of the reason Robert Louis Stevenson and Henry James became such good friends a shared fascination with the possibilities for literary effect offered by the varieties of morality and religion they had observed among their fellow beings? In this story, as with the more famous Markheim, Stevenson treats of Thou Shalt not Kill. Narrated in first person by Charlie, a young university man in love with his cousin, Mary Ellen Darnaway, this tragedy tells of his discovery that Mary's father, Gordon Darnaway, though a Bible-reading Christian, has - possibly through the influence of his chronic alcoholism - become a murderer. The setting, a sparsely inhabited area along Scotland's rugged and dangerous eastern coastline is evoked with Stevenson's famous vivid prose mastery. We never learn the outcome of Charlie's and Mary's relationship; the focus is entirely on Gordon's sad fate. The merry men are not men at all but loud and visually striking washes of surf off a series of rocks near the coast where these events take place. Stevenson's lifelong eschatological bent steps forward here with an emphasis some have found unwelcome.
A collection of short stories by Stevenson. You’ll often find them added on to print copies of Jekyll & Hyde, and some of them are of similar quality, some of them are not.
The suspenseful madness of the Merry Men builds well, and your not sure of the true nature of shipwrecked man until right at the end; whether the narrator has actually succumbed to the islands madness like his uncle.
Will O’ the Mill is a surprisingly poignant reflection on taking chance that don’t come around a second time.
Markheim’s introspection of the mind of a recent murderer does well in making you feel both sympathetic and repulsed by the narrator.
Thrawn Janet, is too short, to really build any tension. And if you’re not familiar in conversational Scottish, I’d probably give it a miss, as it would likely be almost incomprehensible to you.
Otallo, builds the tension well, but let down by ending a few pages too short.
The Treasure of Franchard - I’d give it a miss, doesn’t really fit with the rest, and isn’t very captivating at all. A bit dull.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Short and sweet. I had the feeling I've seen a movie based on it while reading it. It's set on the Hebridean island of Aros, where the narrator goes for his summer break, and finds his uncle's house filled in with leftovers from shipwrecks. Gradually it is revealed that in fact, the uncle has had a share in drawing the ships, and being once a devoted Christian, upon seeing a black sailor he goes insane, as he believes that the devil has come to take him to hell. At this point, a parallel can be drawn between the uncle and Mr. Jekyll , a far more famous character from the same author. The story is not exactly ,,special,, in any way, but considering it's quite short and it doesn't takes long to get to the point, I'd say it's a nice little read.
This story revolves around an area called Aros. A costal region covered by shipwrecks. It is initially a vivid story depicting the shipwrecks and scenery. It was ok in its descriptiveness but nothing to ‘write home about’. No Chekov or Turgenev where you felt you were apart of the story and scenery.
Then, introduced the Uncle, possible - probable alcoholic whose life decended into madness.
Too much going on, not enough explained, not overly descriptive.
This was awesome. It had me hooked from the first line and I could smell the sea, feel the wind on my face, hear the Merry Men laughing and singing ... I was totally engrossed in this tale. Stevenson is a true master.
This is an interesting story, I believe inspired by the shipwrecking practise common at the time around England and Scotland. While there isn't anyone actively leading any ship to its wrecking in the novella, R.L. Stevenson deals with the moral complications of such situations. Is it OK to make a fortune as an aftermath of other people's ungly death at sea?
The setting is the tiny Aros island on the Hebrides and I enjoyed the description of the area. I found the musings of the narrator interesting too. But that been a very short novella, I think the author didn't make justice to his original ideas. The theme is interesting, the execution is so and so. The end is very weird too.
I think the book would be much better if it was larger, so there would be more space to develop the characters and shape the plot more artfully, but still, I enjoyed reading this!
As a side note, it's a good thing that I've read this very short story in my native language years ago, because I think I wouldn't have decipher the Scottish dialect used by one character in one thousand years lol
3+/5 Διάβασα αυτή τη σύντομη ιστοριούλα στα Αγγλικά και ευτυχώς που την είχα διαβάσει πριν χρόνια στα Ελληνικά, διότι ένας ήρωας "μιλάει" με έντονη Σκωτσέζικη προφορά και ορολογίες, που βλέποντας τα λόγια του γραπτά, δεν θα μπορούσα να τα αποκωδικοποιήσω ούτε σε χίλια χρόνια!
Το σκηνικό της ιστορίας είναι το Aros, ένα μικροσκοπικό νησάκι των Εβρίδων όπου ζει απομονωμένος ο θείος του αφηγητή με την κόρη του και τον υπηρέτη του. Η φυσιολογία του τόπου και τα ρεύματα της περιοχής, κάνουν την ναυσιπλοΐα πολύ δύσκολη στην θάλασσα τριγύρω κι ακόμα περισσότερο σε ένα σημείο που οι ντόπιοι αποκαλούν Aros Roost. Εκεί υπάρχουν πολλοί βράχοι, αφανείς ύφαλοι και ισχυρά ρεύματα που δημιουργούν μονίμως αναταραχή στη θάλασσα και όπου σκάνε συνεχώς μεγάλα κύματα, που οι ντόπιοι αποκαλούν Merry Men από την οχλαγωγία που κάνουν.
Ο συγγραφέας εμπνέεται από μία κοινή πρακτική ανάμεσα στους αχρείους της εποχής, οι οποίοι από τις ακτές παραπλανούσαν περαστικά καράβια -ιδίως σε νύχτες μεγάλης τρικυμίας- με ψεύτικα σήματα, να κατευθυνθούν προς σημεία όπου αντί για κάποιο ασφαλές καταφύγιο βρίσκαν τελικά το θάνατο. Οι εγκληματίες που ξέραν καλά τα κατατόπια της περιοχής και τις ιδιοτροπίες της θάλασσας προκαλούσαν ναυάγια με σκοπό να κλέψουν οτιδήποτε αξίας υπήρχε στο πλοίο, χωρίς να νοιάζονται για τις τόσες ανθρώπινες ζωές που χάνονταν.
Σε αυτή τη μικρή νουβέλα δεν έχουμε ακριβώς κάτι τέτοιο, έχουμε ωστόσο προβληματισμό για το αν είναι σωστό κάποιος να θησαυρίζει από τον πικρό θάνατο κάποιων άλλων στη θάλασσα... Η ιστορία είναι πολύ σύντομη και ο συγγραφέας αδικεί εδώ τον εαυτό του. Έχει σίγουρα καλές ιδέες, ωστόσο δεν υπάρχει χώρος να τις αναπτύξει και το αποτέλεσμα είναι λίγο άνισο. Το τέλος του βιβλίου είναι πραγματικά αρκετά περίεργο. Και πάλι οι προβληματισμοί του αφηγητή καθώς και η περιγραφή του τόπου είναι ενδιαφέροντες και αξίζει τον κόπο να διαβάζει κανείς την ιστορία, παρόλο που δεν είναι η καλύτερη του R. L. Stevenson...
Ik moet toegeven dat ik niet meteen hoge verwachtingen had bij deze The Merry Men and Other Tales and Fables. De reden was dat ik Olalla al in een andere verzamelbundel had gelezen en dat ik dat veruit het zwakste verhaal tot nu toe van Robert Louis Stevenson vond. Onder het motto “slechter kan het niet worden”, dan toch doorgebeten en eens geprobeerd wat de rest van de verhalen me zei. Het is een erg grote mixed bag geworden en eentje die in the long run niet positief uitdraait.
Voor de volledigheid eerst even wat ik van Olalla vond: De ene na de andere pagina zonder enige vorm van rustpauze. Gewoon een stroom van woorden en naar het schijnt zou Stevenson het idee van dit verhaal dan ook hebben gekregen in een droom en had hij moeite om het onder woorden te brengen. Dat valt in ieder geval wel op… The Merry Men (het verhaal) is grotendeels interessant, maar wordt compleet onderuit gehaald omdat zowat elke zin van Uncle Gordon onleesbaar is. Ik snap dat Stevenson een experimentje deed met het neerschrijven van verschillende accenten, maar het merendeel van wat dat personage zei, heb ik gemist. Dat kan ook gezegd worden van Thrawn Janet waarin Stevenson besluit om zijn Schotse roots nog eens boven te halen en het verhaal dan ook in een dialect schreef. Hij dacht dat zijn publisher dit instant ging afwijzen, maar tot zijn verbazing publiceerde hij het verhaal integraal. Nog een graadje erger dan Uncle Gordon in The Merry Men en nagenoeg onleesbaar. Will o' the Mill heeft een hoofdpersonage dat blijft intrigeren, maar komt jammer genoeg nogal traag op gang. Eventjes dacht ik dat ik hiermee het beste van The Merry Men and Other Fables zou hebben, maar toen moest Markheim nog komen. Een man die besluit om een juwelier te vermoorden en na de daad geconfronteerd wordt met de duivel. Speelt het zich allemaal in zijn hoofd af of heeft Markheim effectief een aanvaring met het bovennatuurlijke? Stevenson houdt het in het midden en dat blijkt uiteindelijk een goede zet te zijn. The Treasure of Franchard daarentegen is terug van hetzelfde niveau als Will o' the Mill. Niet slecht, maar het blijft niet plakken.
Door een stom toeval lijk ik de beste verhalen van Stevenson in het begin (en al vele jaren terug) te hebben gelezen. Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde is iconisch in al zijn facetten, The Body Snatcher is evenwaardig en met uitzondering van Markheim is er niets dat zelfs nog maar in de buurt komt. Ik ben nog altijd wel benieuwd naar Treasure Island, maar ik denk dat de wegen van Stevenson en mezelf hier gaan scheiden.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I have been really enjoying the writing of R. L. Stevenson, however, there were parts that made me quite uncomfortable in this novel. I understand that there are societal differences between the 19th and the 21st centuries, however, that does not mean that it makes is more enjoyable and less icky when I am supposed to root for an incestuous relationship. Moreover, the racist undertones are not as subtle as in many other works from the past, which makes it more difficult to ignore.
English is not my first language, thus I did sometimes struggle with understanding the phonetic writing of one of the character's speech. Possibly partially because of that, I fear I might not have caught onto some circumstances, which might have made the ending more clear and satisfying. Or maybe it just didn't do it for me. Ending did not have that big of an effect on me, I was kind of disappointed by it. The writing is still absolutely amazing though (except for the racism).
This story came with the book of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and I feel kind of bad about liking this story more than the main story. Don't get me wrong, I liked Jekyll and Hyde, but it missed something that The Merry Men had. I can't really explain it, other than: - I couldn't put it down - I loved the way Stevenson wrote this short story - In contrary to what I thought I liked that it was about the sea, about wrecks and about storms - I felt it. I really did. Short stories can go both ways in my experience. They are great or they are not great. And this one was definitely great!! My expectations for this story weren't high, but it exceeded to amaze me! I recommend this story, please please please read it:)
Ich hatte mich schon über die eher verhaltenen Reviews gewundert, gelesen hatte ich sie im Vorfeld aber nicht. Denn die Geschichte, der subtile Horror, entfaltet sich langsam, aber effektiv. Es ist viel Landschaftsbeschreibung vorhanden, was ich eigentlich nicht mag, hier passt es aber perfekt. Man konnte die schottische Seeluft förmlich riechen und schmecken und das ist auch wichtig für das Gefühl beim Lesen. Es ist ein Kammerspiel, das sich auf der Insel abspielt, und unserem Protagonisten wird schnell klar, dass einige Dinge nicht stimmen, was sich da im Meer abspielt. Ein Geisterschiff, uiii, richtig guter Plot. Ich lieb solche klassischen Erzählungen und dann kommt Akt 3 und macht alles kaputt. Man hätte das zu einem Roman weiterentwickeln können, aber es wirkt hier so, als hätte Robert die Lust verlassen und dann hat er ein Ende geschrieben, dass einfach nur faul und uninspiriert wirkt. Klar, ist auch immer im zeitlichen Kontext zu sehen, aber wird dann schon sehr rassistisch auch, wenn sie den Fremden aufnehmen und immer wieder das N-Wort fällt und so Zeilen wie, da verzieh ich ihm sogar seine schwarze Hautfarbe ... echt schwierig aus heutiger Sicht und konnte beim Charakter dann auch nicht mehr mitgehen, sorry.
Such a romantic name as The Merry Men deserves a story like this. There is a sense of unknown that seeps through this short story, the purposes of the characters unfulfilled due to wider implications of life - the greed of the self conquered by the sheer terror and spirituality of The Merry Men and death. Stevenson does a fantastic job painting the picture of Aros, this rocky, uncomfortable land, it feels beyond the realms of comfort and understanding into a slightly more sinister unknown, combined with the mystery and glory of the potential treasure waiting there. I really like how everything falls apart so quickly, that the goals of our protagonist are swamped underneath the foils of the place, that the potential antagonists are so quickly disposed of, that a mysterious man and a crazed man dominate the last chapter despite their lack of appearance (or extremity) in previous chapters. It is a tale of human vanity succumbing to nature, and it is a startling tale.
Book is 71 pages long and is 71 pages too long. Descriptions of the island Is excessive, although necessary to the mood of the book. Very slow pace with the necessary action only played out in the chapter. Long-winded monologues by a native Scottish/Irish(?) with its dialogue written out phonetically, so I didn’t understand a good deal of the book. Lots of foreshadowing and potential with its characters, but a mockingly disappointing ending. Books like these make me hate reading. Lots of ship talk.
I relate to Mary’s character wherein we are similarly feeling stuck living the family house awaiting death.
3.5 ☆ I liked the moody atmosphere that Stevenson set in this short story, but I didn't quite understand it tbh. I did however enjoy the story, especially the mistery and how you're dropped in the middle of a strange island and the lore behind the island. I have never really read anything like this, with ships and treasures, which is a nice change. The uncle's dialogue put me off tho, because I could not understand what he was saying for the life of me, for me Stevenson was trying too hard to show that the uncle had an accent which made it unreadable.
Ahhh I love this novella so so so so much. Second time rereading it was just as good as the first. The aesthetic is immaculate, and it has inspired me so much in my own writing. It is a creepy story surrounding superstition, murder, the terror of the ocean, and madness. Absolute chef's kiss. Stevenson's descriptions of the ocean are just beyond good. The ending is a bit abrupt and random which was the one thing I didn't like... I think it could have been a lot more impactful and mysterious. Also, there is a decent bit of Scots in it which can be difficult to read if you haven't practiced.
Це цікаіше ніж перші твори Стівенсона, але мені не вистачає накалу подій. В тих епізодах, де події мають вирувати, а сюжет закручуватися, Стівенсон аб знижує градус примусово, або пришвидшує події.
Скоріше за всього, як я дочитаю оповідки, що залишились, то точно більше не повернусь до цього автора.
Uhhhh “I misdoobt if a mere man could see ane clearly and conteenue in the body. I hae sailed wi' a lad - they cad him Sandy Gabart; he saw ane, shüre eneuch, an' shüre eneuch it was the end of him. We were seeven days oot frae the Clyde, - a sair wark we had had - gaun north wi' seeds an' braws an' things for the Macleod”
3 stars. I really enjoyed this and the writing style as I have mentioned before. I don’t think this is my favourite of RLS books so far but I love anything to do with the sea and ships and stuff so I really enjoyed that element.
Robert Louis Stevenson is hit and miss. This is most certainly a miss. A frightfully dull story dragged out over a few chapters and the old Scots dialect, bloody awful. Cannot say I care much for this one.