Tuesday, 17 September 2024 06:40 pm
Book Review: The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle
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deckardcanineMy sister got quite excited while reading this Newbery winner back in elementary school. All I knew of author Avi was The Man Who Was Poe, which excited me when I was in seventh grade. I didn't expect to feel the same in adulthood, but you should already know that I'm not above reviewing kid lit.
In 1832, Charlotte, 13, has been at a prep school in Liverpool for some time and is now to sail home to Rhode Island. She looks forward to meeting other passengers, but she's out of luck on that score: They've bailed. Indeed, the Seahawk has such a reputation that dockworkers avoid going near it. Charlotte would too if she could. Soon she finds herself in a cabin fit for a dungeon, with only sailors and vermin for possible company.
I dread to think how the rougher crew members might treat the only female in sight for months if the book didn't have such a young target audience. Perhaps she's simply too youthful for their taste. Or perhaps they're aware that her father owns the shipping company. Which doesn't protect her from everything.
Charlotte initially likes Captain Jaggery, who chivalrously welcomes her to visit his homier environs. She disregards multiple warnings that he's the reason people fear the ship. He prioritizes efficient travel (regardless of conditions) and respect for authority above all else, showing almost no mercy to anyone who falls short on either. Only when she sees his harshness for herself does she realize her mistake.
Against Charlotte's then-typical racist assumptions, she grows fond of the one Black man aboard, Zachariah, for his unflagging kindness to her. She also hopes to get along well with the rest. But some conflicts just don't lend themselves to mediators. Low morale gives way to mutinous sentiment, and in trying to please both Jaggery and his underlings, she loses everyone's trust and needs an extraordinary act to regain it -- for one side only.
A running theme is that Charlotte rarely feels like she has much of a choice. She may be taking that tone in first-person narration in order to exculpate herself, since many of her actions are at least unorthodox, which equates to scandalous in those days. In truth, she feels most guilty for the times she does what her conventional training has drilled into her. She changes so much that I came to wonder whether her family would even recognize her upon arrival. (There sure are a lot of stories set in past centuries that preach against contemporary values.)
Thrilling? It has its moments. Charlotte witnesses more violence and indulges in riskier, more rigorous tasks than I ever have. I appreciate that her situation, while difficult, is not complex. The 220 pages fairly breeze by.
There's also some educational value even for adults, at least those with little nautical experience. A few terms are explained in the main text, and an appendix elaborates on ship parts and timekeeping at sea. That increases my sense of vindication in reading.
I had chosen TTCoCD partly to get away from fantasy and science fiction for a while, but it feels a bit like fantasy all the same -- for escapism, not lack of realism. It's certainly another realm from mine. Maybe that's the kind of fiction (or nonfiction) I should seek from now on.
Until my upcoming vacation, I intend to forgo novels and catch up on Shakespeare, which I've been looking at on and off. I haven't decided what to take with me to Greece.
In 1832, Charlotte, 13, has been at a prep school in Liverpool for some time and is now to sail home to Rhode Island. She looks forward to meeting other passengers, but she's out of luck on that score: They've bailed. Indeed, the Seahawk has such a reputation that dockworkers avoid going near it. Charlotte would too if she could. Soon she finds herself in a cabin fit for a dungeon, with only sailors and vermin for possible company.
I dread to think how the rougher crew members might treat the only female in sight for months if the book didn't have such a young target audience. Perhaps she's simply too youthful for their taste. Or perhaps they're aware that her father owns the shipping company. Which doesn't protect her from everything.
Charlotte initially likes Captain Jaggery, who chivalrously welcomes her to visit his homier environs. She disregards multiple warnings that he's the reason people fear the ship. He prioritizes efficient travel (regardless of conditions) and respect for authority above all else, showing almost no mercy to anyone who falls short on either. Only when she sees his harshness for herself does she realize her mistake.
Against Charlotte's then-typical racist assumptions, she grows fond of the one Black man aboard, Zachariah, for his unflagging kindness to her. She also hopes to get along well with the rest. But some conflicts just don't lend themselves to mediators. Low morale gives way to mutinous sentiment, and in trying to please both Jaggery and his underlings, she loses everyone's trust and needs an extraordinary act to regain it -- for one side only.
A running theme is that Charlotte rarely feels like she has much of a choice. She may be taking that tone in first-person narration in order to exculpate herself, since many of her actions are at least unorthodox, which equates to scandalous in those days. In truth, she feels most guilty for the times she does what her conventional training has drilled into her. She changes so much that I came to wonder whether her family would even recognize her upon arrival. (There sure are a lot of stories set in past centuries that preach against contemporary values.)
Thrilling? It has its moments. Charlotte witnesses more violence and indulges in riskier, more rigorous tasks than I ever have. I appreciate that her situation, while difficult, is not complex. The 220 pages fairly breeze by.
There's also some educational value even for adults, at least those with little nautical experience. A few terms are explained in the main text, and an appendix elaborates on ship parts and timekeeping at sea. That increases my sense of vindication in reading.
I had chosen TTCoCD partly to get away from fantasy and science fiction for a while, but it feels a bit like fantasy all the same -- for escapism, not lack of realism. It's certainly another realm from mine. Maybe that's the kind of fiction (or nonfiction) I should seek from now on.
Until my upcoming vacation, I intend to forgo novels and catch up on Shakespeare, which I've been looking at on and off. I haven't decided what to take with me to Greece.