Sunday, May 25, 2008

Ships and Shipmates part two: Friends in Harmony




Patrick O’Brian’s nautical Aubrey-Maturin books are not so much a series of novels as they are one long serial novel. In the world of these books the reader experiences a deep immersion in 19th C shipboard life and feels the strength of camaraderie and unity of purpose that marks life aboard the Surprise, Captain Jack Aubrey’s favorite ship. Surprise is a ‘happy ship’ (though some other vessels in the books are not), led by a captain who is firm, fair, highly competent and dedicated. Aubrey and his close friend, ship’s doctor Stephen Maturin, complement each other in their strengths and weaknesses.

Every buddy movie ever made is built on the principle that two diverse characters are better off working together than going their separate ways. The initial encounter of a buddy duo often makes for a humorous scene, as one or both of the pair is surprised and discomfited. In the case of Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin, the catalyst that brings them together is music, which both of them adore…but their behaviour at the concert where they meet is quite different. As the musicians at the Governor’s House play their final crescendo

“… on the little gilt chairs at least some of the audience were following the rise with an equal intensity: …two in the third row…happened to be sitting next to one another…The listener farther to the left was a man …whose big form overflowed his seat, leaving only a streak of gilt wood to be seen here and there. He was wearing his best uniform…the deep white cuff of his gold-buttoned sleeve beat the time….The high note came, the pause, the resolution; and with the resolution the sailor’s fist swept firmly down upon his knee. He leant back in his chair, extinguishing it entirely, sighed happily, and turned towards his neighbour with a smile. The words ‘Very finely played, sir, I believe’ were formed in his gullet if not quite in his mouth when he caught the cold and indeed inimical look and heard the whisper, “If you really must beat the measure, sir, let me entreat you to do so in time, and not half a beat ahead.”

But the inauspicious beginning is soon put behind them, for Jack is convivial by nature and Stephen too honest with himself not to admit the music was so fine that Jack’s rather unrefined enthusiasm was in fact justified.

The excellent film adaptation Master and Commander (drawing on events from several books in the series and not just the initial volume of the same title) captures, in particular by means of music, the essence of the multi-volume progress of the friendship between the open, bluff English ship’s captain and the intense, secretive, philosophical physician. The books of course show us in much more detail how at times their national outlooks—Stephen is Irish—and their personal agendas clash. We see them through thick and thin, battling the elements and the enemy; Stephen unable quite ever to get his sea legs, Jack at a loss on land. We see them each at their fallible worst—Stephen succumbing to laudanum addiction, Jack to marital infidelity.

But through it all, the evenings spent playing string duets and sharing meals reaffirm the surprising harmony between a pair who are very unlike. Friends and shipmates become much more than the sum of their parts, and their story is a joy to read.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

Truly Valiant



image courtesy of Irish artist Kim Shaw, originally posted at The Lion's Call.

As we are less than a fortnight away from the movie premiere of Prince Caspian, I’ve decided to set aside part two of Ships and Shipmates till next month and talk about the second book in the Chronicles of Narnia instead.

Who is so heartless as not to be won over by the most valiant character in children’s literature, perhaps in all literature?

I hope the film of Prince Caspian will do him justice, for Reepicheep the Mouse, knight of Narnia, has a thing or two to teach us all.

I’ve written about murine heroes in this blog before. They are certainly a popular staple of kidlit—besides Graham Oakley’s Church Mice, there’s E. B. White’s Stuart Little and numerous mice in the stories of Beatrix Potter, to name only a few. Perhaps writers figure children should be able to identify with small and powerless creatures.

Lewis, however, does the rest one better. His Reepicheep is not there simply for his child readers to identify with as a little character threatened by all the larger characters around him, who can be escaped thanks to the very smallness of a mouse. Reepicheep, on the contrary, is fearless, feisty and above all truly valiant. He is a role model not only for children but for the adults those children become, and for the adults who read the Chronicles of Narnia over their children’s shoulders.

Today perhaps more than ever before, Reepicheep speaks to those who love Refreshment of Spirit, and indeed to the world. When Prince Caspian was first published, the reaction other characters (and doubtless readers too) would have toward a swashbuckling mouse was predictable: isn’t he cute?, or some variation thereof. But Reepicheep quickly proves that he is not playing at being a hero; he is a hero, first in his own heart, second in his actions, and third in the undying loyalty of his followers.

These days, Reepicheep is not just a figure of amusement to our jaded society because he appears to be a small creature trying to act big, but also because the very heroic code he lives by seems amusing to those who don’t know their own deep need for Refreshment of Spirit.

Perhaps this cynicism isn’t so new, however. Let’s remember that Queen Susan went home from the adventure of Prince Caspian to a life of bedazzlement with vanity and shallow social butterflying, and so ceased to be a Friend of Narnia. Somehow she lost touch with the depth of devotion shown by Reepicheep’s mouse troops, who promptly prepared to cut off their own tails rather than let him endure the humiliation of that maiming alone. That is the loyalty that comes to the Truly Valiant.