1945 Napoleonic naval fiction, fourth written but ninth by internal
chronology. Hornblower is settling uncomfortably into rural life when
he's given a squadron and sent on a diplomatic and military mission to
the Baltic.
This was famously the book in which Forester's scope outran his
research: the bomb-ketches are wrong in pretty much everything except
the name; various historical figures are in the wrong places without
any particular justification; and a particular piece of technology
appears nine years before anyone had historically got one to work.
Of course a certain amount of juggling is inevitable in an historical
novel with a fictional protagonist; but I at least ended up feeling
that the purpose of putting Carl von Clausewitz at the Siege of Riga
is to allow Hornblower to impress him with innovative tactics, and I
can see the levers moving behind the scenes to put him there.
Similarly Ludwig Yorck von Wartenburg (who was historically present)
is persuaded to change sides after the siege not by his own conscience
and evaluation, as happened historically, but by a persuasive plea
from Hornblower in person. It's all a bit Mary Sue.
Earlier parts work better, particularly the alien splendour of the
Imperial Russian court, and some small-scale action with the
bomb-ketches which are at least a plausible system if not the real
one. Hornblower does at least realise that when he's at home he
wants to be at sea, and when he's at sea he wants to be at home,
though not to the point of trying to do anything about it.
The status of the final chapter is unclear. Without it, the book ends
with Hornblower falling unconscious from fever while hallucinating his
wife and children; one could easily picture Forester choosing to end
the series here. The hasty return to England and family seems almost
patched-in to leave openings for future books.
I'm not the only person to look at the publication date and notice
Forester's emphasis on the value of Russia as an ally (and the
importance of getting Russia to join the right side rather than
knuckle under to the tyrant controlling Europe). There's a strong
feeling of having turned the tide, that from now on the good guys will
be pressing forward rather than falling back.
Apparently the mention of a one-night stand with a Russian countess
caused something of a fuss when this was serialised in the Saturday
Evening Post. (But not the brief dalliance with a vicomtesse in
Flying Colours? I think there may be more to this.)
I very much enjoyed the moment to moment writing here, but when I step
back and look at the book having finished it I find it hard to enthuse
about it in retrospect. If I come back to it I'm likely to dip in to
particular passages rather than read the whole thing.
- Posted by Chris at
11:58am on
25 June 2024
About that final chapter: I had no memory at all of him actually going home. OK, it's a long time since I read it, but my memory ends with his fever-dreams. It can't be a very gripping chapter, I thought to myself. So I had to go hunting...
And indeed, the Penguin paperback copy I have (publication date 1956), which is almost certainly the one I first read, ends
'Barbara beside him was laughing deliciously. The sunshine was beautiful and so were the green lawns on the river banks. He had to laugh too, laugh and laugh. And here was little Richard climbing over his knees, What the devil was Brown doing, staring at him like that?'
Looks to me very much as though that final chapter was indeed an afterthought patched in for some reason. Not a case of "one could easily picture", which implies that it might not be the case; more one of "One can see that", because he must have added that chapter after the English publication in 1945 on which the 1956 Penguin is based.
The Gutenberg Canada text does include what I can't help regarding as the spurious chapter, saying 'Edition used as base for this ebook: Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1945 ["Commodore Hornblower"]'. Was it perhaps for the American market that the ending was prettied up to be happy rather than let's face it, a bit grim? (But Hornblower is grim, habitually, so that was in keeping with the rest.)
In any case, Forester wasn't ending the series, because Lord Hornblower came out in 1946 and Hornblower In the West Indies in 1957. So we knew Hornblower had survived even without any feelgood guff that tied in all the loose ends in a neat little bow at the end of The Commodore.
- Posted by J Michael Cule at
12:05pm on
25 June 2024
Not knowing about the inaccuracies made it a lot less irritating to me than to you. (I assume the set of pistols Barbara gives him is the too-early tech?)
My copy ends with him coming down with the fever, starting to sing and wondering why Bush is staring at him like that. Any incidents in England wait for the next book and begin with him being bored at an Order of the Bath church service.
- Posted by RogerBW at
12:23pm on
25 June 2024
Chris—thanks, I hadn't been able to verify the final chapter's appearance in various editions. The ending you have is the ending of the penultimate chapter in the version I read.
(Wikipedia says "Forester provided an additional chapter" but doesn't relate when or to whom.)
My working theory for the series is that Forester had expected The Happy Return to be a stand-alone book, so like Heyer with Regency Buck he stuffed in all the sailing-ship research he could find… and then had to produce more for the sequels without excessively repeating his effects. So I can picture him using this original ending to allow for the possibility of bringing it to some sort of conclusion if the muse didn't strike again.
Mike: yes, percussion cap 1822. It's very hard to make something that will go bang reliably when you want it to and not go bang when you don't, and lots of people were trying, but it was not a thing in 1812, and its existence would probably have made substantial differences to the war.