Customer Reviews

The Hundred Days (Aubrey/Maturin Vol. 19)

5 star:		(19)
4 star:		(16)
3 star:		(9)
2 star:		(8)
1 star:		(10)

 

 

I confess I peeked at the reviews of this book before settling in to read it and was a bit worried by the rather harsh remarks by a number of readers. Shouldn't have been. This is a novel of real power. Witty (often darkly humorous), intelligent and beautifully written it is completely at a piece with rest of the series. Still puzzled by those reviewers who claim this was ghosted and a bit troubled by one writer who complained Villier's death was a problem because she was such a strong female character. Well yes, but this isn't Oprah nor is this about consciousness raising as we know it at the end of the twentieth century. Rather, this work is a fantistically imagined glimpse into the very early nineteenth century-a time quite different from our own. I had heard of O'Brian first in the mid-1970's but couldn't rally much interest. Napoleonic Wars? Royal Navy? So? Then, for some reason or another, I picked up 'Master and Commander' over the New Year's Holiday. Three months later, I had read each of the nineteen novels in sequence. One of the great reading experiences of my life. 'The Hundred Days' is an altogether tougher work than those which preceed it. Aubrey and Maturin have been at this for a great long while. The war with Napoleon drags on and on. Fortunes are made and lost. Friends and family die. There indeed is very little of the joy to be found in the earlier books. Choices available to a person were far fewer in number in the early 1800's. Societal constraints, class strictures, duty-any number of factors conspired to grind a person down. By the end of 'The Hundred Days' Aubrey seems tired and spiritless. And why not? Good friends killed. Endless political intrigue. He faces huge responsibilities as the 'Lord of the Manor' and member of Parliament as well those in his naval career. The death of his best friend's wife and the death of his long time coxswain Bonden are terribly painful. Remember, Aubrey has been at sea since the age of twelve. It is not a warm and fuzzy place to live. It is a painful and isolated existence. No,'The Hundred Days' gets it really, really right. It has been a wonderful trip for Aubrey and Maturin and all the rest, but the cost has been huge.

Scanning through the other customer reviews of "The Hundred Days", I am struck by the chasm between those who condemn the book (sometimes in startlingly harsh terms) and those who applaud it. I count myself firmly among the latter, but acknowledge that this volume differs significantly from earlier entries in the series. What some readers apparently view as an absence of skill and spirit on O'Brian's part, I find instead to be the product of a subtle and masterful command of the literary art. Death is a central theme, Death is a chief character of "The Hundred Days", and I find it not surprising at all that O'Brian has elected to use a style in keeping with that particular focus. I have seen numerous comments from dissatisfied readers decrying O'Brian's "failure" to deal with the deaths of major characters at length. With all due respect, I think that view misses the whole point of what and how O'Brian has written. The cheapest, most false piece of writing produced by any hack would have lavished sorrow upon these deaths; shedding shallow tears would have been the easy thing to do. The abruptness of these deaths, even the absence of healing mourning, heightens the pain and the sense of loss we feel. O'Brian has not written a book to make us "feel good". Instead he has painted for us a portrait of emotional constraint, the hues of the world washed over with the grey of an unexpressed grief. Only at rare moments are we pernitted to see the black gulf beneath Stephen's determined insistence to continue on after Diana's death. He is a man who is hiding even -- or, especially -- from himself the depth of his loss, while we see that grief has dulled his usual acuity. O'Brian has not tried to "entertain" us here, and those seeking light diversion would do better to look elsewhere. No, "The Hundred Days" is not an easy book, but it evidences an undiminished literary skill. I believe this novel to be O'Brian's finest writing in several years. Long after finishing it, "The Hundred Days" haunts me.

Some critics have referred to the Aubrey/Maturin books as one long novel united not only by their historical setting but also by the central plot element of the Aubrey/Maturin friendship. Having read these fine books over a period of several years, I decided to evaluate their cumulative integrity by reading them consecutively in order of publication over a period of a few weeks. This turned out to be a rewarding enterprise. For readers unfamiliar with these books, they describe the experiences of a Royal Navy officer and his close friend and traveling companion, a naval surgeon. The experiences cover a broad swath of the Napoleonic Wars and virtually the whole globe.
Rereading all the books confirmed that O'Brian is a superb writer and that his ability to evoke the past is outstanding. O'Brian has numerous gifts as a writer. He is the master of the long, careful description, and the short, telling episode. His ability to construct ingenious but creditable plots is first-rate, probably because he based much of the action of his books on actual events. For example, some of the episodes of Jack Aubrey's career are based on the life of the famous frigate captain, Lord Cochrane. O'Brian excels also in his depiction of characters. His ability to develop psychologically creditable characters through a combination of dialogue, comments by other characters, and description is tremendous. O'Brien's interest in psychology went well beyond normal character development, some books contain excellent case studies of anxiety, depression, and mania.
Reading O'Brien gives vivid view of the early 19th century. The historian Bernard Bailyn, writing of colonial America, stated once that the 18th century world was not only pre-industrial but also pre-humanitarian (paraphrase). This is true as well for the early 19th century depicted by O'Brien. The casual and invariable presence of violence, brutality, and death is a theme running through all the books. The constant threats to life are the product not only of natural forces beyond human control, particularly the weather and disease, but also of relative human indifference to suffering. There is nothing particularly romantic about the world O'Brien describes but it also a certain grim grandeur. O'Brien also shows the somewhat transitional nature of the early 19th century. The British Navy and its vessals were the apogee of what could be achieved by pre-industrial technology. This is true both of the technology itself and the social organization needed to produce and use the massive sailing vessals. Aubrey's navy is an organization reflecting its society; an order based on deference, rigid hierarchy, primitive notions of honor, favoritism, and very, very corrupt. At the same time, it was one of the largest and most effective bureaucracies in human history to that time. The nature of service exacted great penalities for failure in a particularly environment, and great success was rewarded greatly. In some ways, it was a ruthless meritocracy whose structure and success anticipates the great expansion of government power and capacity seen in the rest of the 19th century.
O'Brian is also the great writer about male friendship. There are important female characters in these books but since most of the action takes place at sea, male characters predominate. The friendship between Aubrey and Maturin is the central armature of the books and is a brilliant creation. The position of women in these books is ambiguous. There are sympathetic characters, notably Aubrey's long suffering wife. Other women figures, notably Maturin's wife, leave a less positive impression. On board ship, women tend to have a disruptive, even malign influence.
How did O'Brian manage to sustain his achievement over 20 books? Beyond his technical abilities as a writer and the instrinsic interest of the subject, O'Brien made a series of very intelligent choices. He has not one but two major protagonists. The contrasting but equally interesting figures of Aubrey and Maturin allowed O'Brien to a particularly rich opportunity to expose different facets of character development and to vary plots carefully. This is quite difficult and I'm not aware of any other writer who has been able to accomplish such sustained development of two major protagonists for such a prolonged period. O'Brian's use of his historical setting is very creative. The scenes and events in the books literally span the whole globe as Aubrey and Maturin encounter numerous cultures and societies. The naval setting allowed him also to introduce numerous new and interesting characters. O'Brian was able to make his stories attractive to many audiences. Several of these stories can be enjoyed as psychological novels, as adventure stories, as suspense novels, and even one as a legal thriller. O'Brian was also a very funny writer, successful at both broad, low humor, and sophisticated wit. Finally, O'Brian made efforts to link some of the books together. While a number are complete in themselves, others form components of extended, multi-book narratives. Desolation Island, Fortune of War, and The Surgeon's Mate are one such grouping. Treason's Harbor, The Far Side of the World, and The Reverse of the Medal are another. The Letter of Marque and the ensuing 4 books, centered around a circumnavigation, are another.
Though the average quality of the books is remarkably high, some are better than others. I suspect that different readers will have different favorites. I personally prefer some of the books with greater psychological elements. The first book, Master and Commander, is one of my favorites. The last 2 or 3, while good, are not as strong as earlier books. I suspect O'Brian's stream of invention was beginning to diminish. All can be read profitably as stand alone works though there is definitely something to be gained by reading in consecutive order.

I love great historical fiction and O'Brian's Napoleonic era novels, although not as timely as more recently set novels like the Civil War's "Cold Mountain" or WWII's "The Triumph and the Glory", capture the era in magnificent fashion. But no matter what type of fiction you like you should read the Aubrey/Maturin novels, they are wonderful, finely-crafted examples of the story-telling art. If you want to learn how to write a novel, read Patrick O'Brian, If you love to read great novels, he's your man too.

While some of the reviews here have lambasted "The Hundred Days", after taking a step back and looking at it on its own rather than in the spot light pointed at his previous works in the series, I'd have to say that O'Brian did a more than passable job. Things that must be taken into consideration include the stage in development of both the characters and the story, as well as, of course, the immense build-up of expectations that met "Hundred Days" on its release from the yard. One must remember that POB's series is not comprised of massive line-of-battle ships, but consists of a sizable squadron of fast, nimble frigates of the sort before Americans got hold of the idea. Given that, in the proper context, POB has given us another lovely, though less lively, installment. Read it not becasue it's the best O'Brian has given us, but because it's much better than most of what those other than O'Brian have given us.

I, as countless others, noticed within pages that this book did not have the heft, color, culture or beauty of the past entries. It felt like the OUTLINE of a possible book, with none of the nuances and flourishes filled in. A pale watercolor against the previous Rembrandts. And let's lose a vital character like Diana OFFSTAGE, as if she were a minor character, a footnote when really she balanced and made whole the Maturin we came to know. His tempestuous love affair made an otherwise dour, eccentric character come into his own; a character arc that paid off handsomely. Aubrey and the good doctor go through the motions as if ghosts of voyages past. They play music, engage in intrigue, visit (in a glancing manner) foreign exotic ports, and eat their toasted cheese -- but it's a vessel that's altogether too unseaworthy for the journey. Either the prolific author's powers have waned at this late stage, or he was trying to beat the deadline (he's 85 after all) and finish the saga with a round number; 20 (Blue Mizzen's out now). That's a cruel assessment, but his fault entirely for writing so beautifully of a time past that we came to expect that level of excellence, or more to the point, crave and need it like a good serving of plum duff and spotted dog. May his high standards unfurl and send us sailing at 12 knots and above on the next peregrination. For now, I'll take a bolus and bit of laudanum to ease the pain and curl up in my hammock while awaiting another installment.

Let me preface all that follows; this review is for those of us who have travelled with Jack and Stephen for 18 novels. If you are thinking of starting with "The Hundred Days" don't. Start at the beginning. It is worth it. The quality of writing and crafting of a story is constantly excellent through out the series.

I finished "The Yellow Admirable" with a sad heart, fearing there would be no more stories, hoping there would be two more books. My joy in learning of them was delightful. I downloaded the first chapter and read it hungerly, until I learnt of Dianna's death and my heart folded in two for a character I had adored and in some ways related to as a woman. I found myself concerned for Stephen, Sophie and Jack. I went out late that night and hunted down the book.

I couldn't figure out why Dianna was killed, couldn't see the sense in it. But maybe it has something to do with how the sudden death of a beloved one is incomprehensible, like the author experienced with that of Mrs Mary O'Brian. I think "The Hundred Days" is Mr O'Brian's grieving novel. It is, as all his work, crafted in a way that raises your expectation of writing, it looks at life, as always,in a delicate and strong manner. But it read to me that my favorite author was in pain and was writing to heal and get the book over and done with.

As a hungry reader I wanted a long and detailed book, like "The Post Captain", because I wanted to stay in the world created by this author. I found myself wanting to know how Sophie and the family were, I wanted to see Jack reach the official status of Admiral, of any rank and colour other than yellow. I wanted to see more of the relationship of Jack and Stephen. But this wasn't to be. I didn't understand the significance of the last few lines of the novel and am still pondering them.

All this as a reader disappoints me. All this as someone who wants my favorite author to be happy saddens me as it shows me his sense of loss. Others are commenting on the lack of detail about Stephen's grieving. Well I think we have been honoured to witness how Mr O'Brian is dealing with his. We have all experienced loss for ourselves and can understand the understatement of Stephen's.

I confess to being shocked by Bonden's departure. I re-read the passage several times to be sure I had understood it, there wasn't any elaboration which stood in stark contrast to the death's of other more minor charactors. I don't think it has to do with feelings of the era and attitude to death. Jack has cried in public for the loss of life during battle for men he has sailed with for only one voyage. Bonden has been with him for 20 years. Maybe this will be further explored in the next novel, I hope at least.

I also hope the next novel is lengthy and detailed, we hear from Sophie and all at home, we see more of the friendship that has taught us about human nature, the dry wit of Stephen and the silly puns of Jack.

"The Hundred Days" is an outstanding book to lose yourself in. It is also one that leaves the devoted reader hungering for more. It is also a book of contrast; in some regards I found it to be his finest, in others I found it wanting. Either way, I'm thankful it was written and I loved reading it. I just wish it hadn't finished so quickly.

THE HUNDRED DAYS is the 20th in O'Brian's Aubrey-Maturin series. New readers are likely to be disappointed, as character development in earlier novels is essential to appreciating the main characters. Fans of the series are likely to be moderately disappointed. Very little new character development takes place, and oddly, there is little reference to earlier characters and events. The introduction of a new character, a female surgeon's assistant, presents much potential, which is not realized. The plot thesis also has much potential which never materializes. As always, O'Brian brilliantly describes the day-to-day life of sailors. THE HUNDRED DAYS is even richer in such details that the earlier novels in the series. Unfortunately, in THE HUNDRED DAYS the ancient "HMS Surprise" journeys nowhere, and our beloved characters are too old and set in their ways to be interesting.

I cannot agree that this book is flat, lifeless, and lacking in the drama of the previous Aubrey-Maturin novels. In The Hundred Days, O'Brian creates and explores a different topography of the heart and spirit. The deaths of Diana and Barrett Bonden are shocking, because there's no preparation, but as some other reviewers have said, there's never adequate preparation in life for such losses. No amount of verbal handwringing can make it right, in life and in this novel, and O'Brian does not indulge in even the attempt to cater to the wish for it. How would any of us attempt to depict Maturin, that reserved, disciplined man so profoundly in love, fresh on the news of Diana's death? The term "unimaginable grief" could suggest that O'Brian quite properly does not describe what can't be delineated, except in the heart of each reader who confronts his or her own losses in reading about Maturin's. As for Bonden, his death no doubt reverberates through the lives of Aubrey, Sophie, Maturin, and all his recent and former shipmates--again, O'Brian demands that we do a little imaginative work once we've caught our breath, just as Aubrey and the others will have to catch theirs after the shock. It takes time to absorb a loss, time O'Brian has not created for his other characters with respect to the death of Bonden, at least in this novel. And that's a final point. Patrick O'Brian is an older man, and each novel is a gift, likely to him, certainly to his readers. Blithe suggestions regarding what he ought to do in the next novel, or in future novels in the series, take no account of the facts of his life. I'd love another dozen books in this series, which has given me some of the best company I've enjoyed in the past few years. But I'd be immensely grateful to have just one more. To Patrick O'Brian--amazed gratitude and deepest respect!

This nineteenth installment in the series is something of a return to the blood-and-thunder days of the earlier volumes, as Jack Aubrey, pausing at Madeira with his family before setting off on a putative hydrographic expedition to Chile (as always when Dr. Maturin is involved, there's a good deal more here than meets the eye), is told of Bonaparte's escape from Elba -- and is ordered to hoist his commodore's pennant once more, to take command of all the available ships in the area, and to repair at once to Gibralter to seal up the Med and protect Allied shipping. Then he's off to the Adriatic to disable the French ship-building activities in the region and to cut off the shipment of an astonishing amount of gold from North Africa to the Balkan Moslems to encourage them to intercede on the Emperor's behalf against the Russians and Austrians. Okay, there's a lot of politics here -- but it's a side of the last days of the Napoleonic Empire most of us know little if anything about, and there's plenty of skullduggery on Stephen Maturin's part as well as naval action against an Algerine galley. And not to forget the Adventure of the Unicorn's Horn and the Hand of Glory, which is one of the falling-down funniest episodes O'Brian has ever produced. On the other hand, there are two quite shocking deaths, too, one early in the book and one late, . . . but that, as they say, is life. An excellent entry in the saga.