Whale of a Tale...
"The North Water" by Ian McGuire
A book review
Behold the man…
The opening line of this novel reads like a challenge,
bordering on the blasphemous. Ecce Homo are, of course, the famous
words which Pilate uses to present a battered Jesus to the bloodthirsty crowd
in the Passion story. Here, the phrase introduces the reader to harpooner Henry
Drax, a brutal, brutish individual who, we learn from the very first chapter,
is a sexual predator, child abuser and cold-blooded murderer. He is, in other words, less man than beast. Author Ian McGuire describes him as follows
on his Goodreads:
I started with the idea of him being like an
animal -- in other words being driven by instinct and desire, living in the
moment and having little or no interest in the past or future. He doesn't think
or worry at all about the causes or consequences of his actions, unlike Sumner
who can't shake off the past and is haunted by it. So that was how I began, and
then built him up from there…
Other characters
in the book have an even darker view of Drax – he is, they claim, the devil incarnate, a
personification of evil. Man, beast,
fiend.
When we meet Drax, he is about to join the ‘Volunteer’, a Yorkshire whaling ship
due to sail from Hull to the Arctic Circle which, in the 19th
Century, is still a rich hunting area for whales and seals. Amongst the motley crew recruited by the
expedition’s financier, there’s also one Patrick Sumner, an ex-army surgeon who
is going to sea for the first time, harbouring unsavoury secrets learnt during
the Siege of Delhi. When a cabin boy is
raped during the Arctic voyage, readers can immediately draw quite obvious
conclusions regarding the perpetrator. The identity of the abuser is less clear
to the crew and Sumner turns into a detective of sorts. In the meantime, the captain of the Volunteer
is aware that there are other reasons for the expedition apart from collecting
whale blubber, as the crew will eventually realise to their dismay. Against the backdrop of the Arctic landscape
and amongst a diverse cast of supporting actors, a showdown between Drax and
Sumner is inevitable.
Whalebone stored in the yard of the Pacific Steam Whaling Company, San Francisco |
In its contrast between a seasoned seagoer and
a relatively young and naïve ship medic, The North Water reminded me of Dark Water by Elizabeth Lowry, which I read and reviewed last year. But closer inspection shows that, despite
superficial similarities, these two novels are very different. For a start, although Dark Water has (like
Ian McGuire’s novel) been compared to Moby
Dick, it is more ‘earthbound’ than The
North Water, with much of its action happening on land. Both novels smell and taste of seasalt, but
in the case of The North Water the
narrative is centred on the expedition itself, rather than its aftermath. Another difference is that Dark Water is more of a Gothic novel,
exploiting as it does many of the tropes of the genre. Ian McGuire’s The North Water, on the other hand, has dark overtones, and graphic,
sometimes stomach-churning violence, but ultimately feels closer to the classic
‘adventure novels’ of the 19th Century and often mimics their
writing style. It is also as viscerally
entertaining.
A painting by Louis Ambroise Garneray, an artist referenced in Moby Dick |
The settings of the novel – the busy, filthy port
areas in Hull, the battle-riddled streets of Delhi, the claustrophobic cabins
of the Volunteer or the sublime Arctic expanse – are described realistically in
a way which involves all the senses. In this respect, it reminded me of another
“historical thriller” I recently enjoyed:
The Sheriff’s Catch by Malteseauthor James Vella-Bardon. Like most of
the other scenes in The North Water,
the whale and sea hunts are uncompromising and brutal but, despite the
reservations we might have in these more ecologically-conscious times, McGuire
still manages to put across the thrill of the hunt.
Another
of the novel’s strong points is its characterisation. Drax is evil incarnate, but he is strangely
beguiling. And Sumner, whilst no saint,
is likeable and I felt myself cheering him on in his battle of wits with the
baddies. Great stuff.
Whaling in the North Seas - Abraham Jansz Storck |
Paperback, 325 pages
Published February 11th 2016 by Scribner
Throughout this novel there are references to
music – particularly whaling songs and sailor’s jigs. A soundtrack to the book suggests itself. Trawling through youtube, I found a full
album of whaling songs “from the time of
Moby Dick” recorded in 1956 by American folksinger Paul Clayton (1936 –
1967). Clayton was a scholar as much as a singer and an important figure in the
revival of folk music in the mid-20th Century.
Some of the most beautiful scenes in the novel
are the descriptions of the forbidding but impressive Arctic landscape. Young contemporary composer James Cozens has
written an “Arctic Symphony” inspired by a voyage to Greenland. Mixing the concept of symphony and piano
concerto, it is an enjoyable piece which could be read as a musical travelogue.
If that sounds too traditional for your taste,
I suggest you explore the intriguing Arctic-inspired soundworld of Estonian
composer Mirjam Tally. Her Warm Life at the Foot of the Iceberg is
performed on this album by Nordic Affect in a version for violin, viola, cello
and harpsichord. Despite the use of
acoustic instruments, it often sounds as if it were an electronic piece, full
of scratches, howls and eerie drones, successfully conveying the idea of an
alien landscape.
The North
Water has been compared to Moby Dick, and Ian McGuire has
recognised its influence on his novel.
Melville’s work has inspired an opera by contemporary composer Jake Heggie. Here are some excerpts. Salty dogs, ahoy!
More rollicking stuff to end. Folk outfit Black
Irish Band sings Whalers Cove, an
original song which combines the true story of the whaling ship Essex with folk legends of the people of
the North. This ties in nicely with the
final chapters of the book and the encounters with the Eskimos and their
beliefs.
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