There's a famous bit in Robinson Crusoe, chapter 4, when Crusoe has gone back out to the wrecked ship to see what he can salvage. He finds a stash of money in one cabin, and delivers a very pretty little soliloquy:
In the Plague Year, the narrator lets himself linger too long in the city because of his business interests; in Colonel Jack the young hero -- a homeless orphan who has to beg for food -- gets money for the first time in his life (as a share of a pickpocketing racket) and spends the night alone, awake, crying and terrified -- he can't really spend it without creating suspicion, and he's afraid that if he spends the night in his usual haunts he'll get his throat cut for it, but he can't bear the idea of just stashing it somewhere and hoping no one will find it. And his short novel the King of Pirates is pretty much all one parable on the theme. The narrator (based on the legendary Capt Avery) is so successful as a pirate, that he and his men are trapped by the wealth they've accumulated, stuck in Madagascar together, bound by mutual distrust, chained to money they can't actually spend.
...
The first chapter in Defoe's Pirate book is on that same Captain Avery. Avery was probably the most famous pirate of the time (he and Kidd were the only two pirates excluded from the General Amnesty proclaimed by England at one point), and a number of legends grew up around him -- most importantly (to Defoe), the legend that he founded and ruled a colony in Madagascar.
So in King of the Pirates, Defoe debunks the legend and suggests the colony was little better than a makeshift, self-imposed prison, where the pirates bided their time until they could figure out how to get back to Europe and enjoy their wealth. But in the chapter on Avery in the General History of the Pyrates, he goes much much further: he treats Avery as a complete sham, who had one lucky prize in his first and only expedition, never went to Madagascar at all, and eventually died in poverty after returning to England and unsuccessfully trying to fence the load of diamonds he stole from his companions. (There's apparently no documentary evidence for Defoe's version of Avery's latter years -- he probably just made it up.)
This is funny stuff, and it's an hilariously cynical way to start the book. (Happily, the second chapter -- on William Teach (Blackbeard) -- is much more what you'd expect: classic piratey stuff, with lots of fire and brimstone and drunken recklessness. No "Arrrrr, matey"s, though.)
So based on just a couple chapters so far, I'm leaning towards "yes" on the Defoe authorship question. I should say that 1) there's apparently no documentary or other definite evidence one way or another, the most anyone can say is he definitely could have written it, and the rest is just basically arguing from similarities to his other work, style, subject matter, etc; and 2) I'm far from a scholar (or expert on Defoe) so my opinion is worth precisely squat, but I'm enjoying forming it.
I smiled to myself at the sight of this money: "O drug!" said I, aloud, "what art thou good for? Thou art not worth to me - no, not the taking off the ground; one of those knives is worth all this heap; I have no manner of use for thee - e'en remain where thou art, and go to the bottom as a creature whose life is not worth saving." However, upon second thoughts I took it away...This is ultra-typical Defoe, not just the dry humour of it, but also the basic theme or idea. Again and again, Defoe's characters complain about what a burden money is, but they can never actually bring themselves to leave it alone -- a conundrum that Defoe is obviously amused by but thoroughly understands.
In the Plague Year, the narrator lets himself linger too long in the city because of his business interests; in Colonel Jack the young hero -- a homeless orphan who has to beg for food -- gets money for the first time in his life (as a share of a pickpocketing racket) and spends the night alone, awake, crying and terrified -- he can't really spend it without creating suspicion, and he's afraid that if he spends the night in his usual haunts he'll get his throat cut for it, but he can't bear the idea of just stashing it somewhere and hoping no one will find it. And his short novel the King of Pirates is pretty much all one parable on the theme. The narrator (based on the legendary Capt Avery) is so successful as a pirate, that he and his men are trapped by the wealth they've accumulated, stuck in Madagascar together, bound by mutual distrust, chained to money they can't actually spend.
...
The first chapter in Defoe's Pirate book is on that same Captain Avery. Avery was probably the most famous pirate of the time (he and Kidd were the only two pirates excluded from the General Amnesty proclaimed by England at one point), and a number of legends grew up around him -- most importantly (to Defoe), the legend that he founded and ruled a colony in Madagascar.
So in King of the Pirates, Defoe debunks the legend and suggests the colony was little better than a makeshift, self-imposed prison, where the pirates bided their time until they could figure out how to get back to Europe and enjoy their wealth. But in the chapter on Avery in the General History of the Pyrates, he goes much much further: he treats Avery as a complete sham, who had one lucky prize in his first and only expedition, never went to Madagascar at all, and eventually died in poverty after returning to England and unsuccessfully trying to fence the load of diamonds he stole from his companions. (There's apparently no documentary evidence for Defoe's version of Avery's latter years -- he probably just made it up.)
This is funny stuff, and it's an hilariously cynical way to start the book. (Happily, the second chapter -- on William Teach (Blackbeard) -- is much more what you'd expect: classic piratey stuff, with lots of fire and brimstone and drunken recklessness. No "Arrrrr, matey"s, though.)
So based on just a couple chapters so far, I'm leaning towards "yes" on the Defoe authorship question. I should say that 1) there's apparently no documentary or other definite evidence one way or another, the most anyone can say is he definitely could have written it, and the rest is just basically arguing from similarities to his other work, style, subject matter, etc; and 2) I'm far from a scholar (or expert on Defoe) so my opinion is worth precisely squat, but I'm enjoying forming it.
1 comment:
enjoyed this .. thanks
(blah blah and yada yada too!)
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