Cup of Gold: A Life of Henry Morgan, Buccaneer, with occasional reference to history

John Steinbeck

I know it's a sad thing to a man to be leaving a girl and running off to sea. Haven't I left hundreds of them--and all beautiful? But here's another cup to you, boy. Wine is better to a woman than all the sweet pastes of France, and a man drinking it. Wine makes every woman lovely. Ah! If the homely ones would only put out a little font of wine in the doors of their houses like holy water to a church, there would be more marriage in towns. A man would never know the lack they had for looks. But have another cup of the grand wine, sad boy, and it may be a princess, and you leaving her behind you.

He is still a little boy and wants the moon. I suppose he is rather unhappy about it. Those who say children are happy forget their childhood. I wonder how long he can stave off manhood.

I am changed. The Henry Morgan you knew is not the Sir Henry Morgan who sentences you to death. I do not kill ferociously any more, but coldly, and because I have to.

When I first embarked upon this book, I imagined I was reading some children's tale of pirates and romance, but the depth of the words and how they lie quickly made me reconsider. The reader, whoever you may be, would do very well to remember that Steinbeck does not always tell the truth. Indeed, beware of what he says. Never give him easy access to your mind, and never imagine he fancies himself a truth-teller.
It may be especially pertinent to this story, but Steinbeck plays on all the lies in human nature when he paints us the picture of Henry Morgan, Buccaneer. As usual Steinbeck rises to great poetic moments which are worthwhile whatever the story, but the story here is good too. The great unsettled heart of Captain Morgan hangs in the air like a heavy balloon, puffed by the wind. It wanders and wanders, but never lands.
And also in keeping with what other works of his I have been privilaged to read, Steinbeck startles you with dark thoughts and darker characters. These characters skip happily up to you out of the sunshine as beautiful little children but when their faces become clear evil grins and mottled scars are all you see. In this way, I guess Steinbeck paints portraits as true to life as ever they can be. And truly you will get the sense as you slip through these excellently composed pages that you are listening to a great dirge, a magnificent funeral air for some drowning humanity.
Humanity is the one word I would apply to anything written by Steinbeck. He may strike you at first as a mystic but he is a humanist before all else, only sometimes he deifies it and so begins to sound like a mystic. Henry Morgan will tear your heartstrings out despite his evil nature and will leave you like the foam of a passing wave, to drift and float upon a raging sea. 8/10

The Road

Cormac McCarthy


I unfortunately do not have a quote from this book, perhaps it is for the best though. To take any line out of the narrative would be like showing only a single bullet flying through the air from an action movie. I have read a few books which latch on to you and pull you through them with great force. Generally they are quite terrible and there is some point where you become aware that you are merely cruising on because you want to get to the end of the book; somehow the actual reading has lost its enjoyment.
The Road is like this but better than such books. It is a book which you read to get to the end, but it does not sacrifice itself in the process. There were a few times when I looked up to catch the time and flipped absently at the pages to the right, gauging how much longer I would be at it, but these were not often. There were far more times when I flipped to the next page hurriedly because the narrative was burning me up.
McCarthy executes a style of withholding information which others would do well to learn from. It seems incredible that he could set up such a world full of complex fears and horrible, evil darkness and yet never actually let you see them. The whole book gives us the effects, but only rarely do we see the causes--and for good reason.
The Road is a dark book, darker than most I have recently read. As dark as any Stephen King. And I am glad he refrained from indulging his imagination enough to fully tell us why his characters are afraid. Set in some vague post-apocalyptic future, we see a world of floating ash and dreary desolation. But so much more depressing than the world are its few and deranged inhabitants. The Road marks the journey of a lonely father and his son across the vastness of this sad world towards some safety, some end. McCarthy captures very well the dynamic between these two strange figures as well as their mutual terror and scramble for survival. I do not recommend it if you are looking for something to uplift your spirits. It is morbid. But none the less, if you do pick it up you won't put it down. 6/10

Francis of Assisi

G K Chesterton

To this great mystic his religion was not a thing like a theory but a thing like a love affair.

In typical jester-like form, Chesterton doesn't so much review Francis' life in this book as he uses Francis to make piercing insights into the modern world and how it has changed in the last thousand years. There were perhaps a few points where I began to wonder if I could patiently handle any more complete logical reversals--a trick which Chesterton is too adept at--but if you do not allow his almost overly-witty style to hinder your mind from floating about, the read will be rewarding.
If for no other reason, read this book to catch the heart of Saint Francis. While Chesterton does not focus on Francis as a biographer would, he does focus on him as a friend would. He tried not so much to peer into his mind or psychology as he does his spirit--and I believe Chesterton achieves at least a little of this.
And in the process we find that Chesterton reveals a good deal of what is in his own spirit, something any self-respecting Christian would be happy to get the chance to mull over. There are numerous, tiny gems of spiritual insight which will catch your eye as you pass through these pages. Hopefully in doing so they will trip up your mind long enough to let your heart forget many of the lunacies of our day. And you might also find a good deal of revolutionary thought within the cover of this book--not revolutionary as the word is fashionably used, but revolutionary as the word really means.
Take the time to read this book and you'll definitely gain some respect for Saint Francis, perhaps even a little understanding of Chesterton, and who knows, you might even find that some of the things you took to be true enough to not need consideration are actually the most rotted parts of your mind. 8/10