Posted by Ed Kiser on January 20, 2005 at 21:32:04 from 64.12.116.6 user Kisered.
In Reply to: Re: What is your favourite Ransome quotation? posted by Peter Ceresole on January 19, 2005 at 01:01:11:
In Winter Holiday, Chapter 15 we see that the crew was asleep.
John was practically alone, manning the tiller, now much easier
after reefing. The section of writing that shows his feelings at
this moment is a bit too long for inclusion on this Forum, so
there are significant beautiful words missing here, but this is
enough for you to find the section and thus be able to fill in
the missing parts that are equally beautiful in its wording, in
the description of his inner feelings in one of those rare
moments when we are allowed to get inside the thoughts of one of
these beloved characters:
========
>He had done his very best... He, for that night, was the Master
>of the Goblin, and
> ...
>always remember this night when for the
>first time ship and crew were in his charge, his alone.
> ...
> So... and back... So... and back... Lean and sway
>with this triumphant motion. Good little ship. Good little
>ship. He put a hand over the edge of the coaming and patted
>the damp deck in the darkness.
========
In We Didn't Mean To Go To Sea, chapter 23 is another rather
significant passage, as it becomes symbolic of John's passage
from a boy into manhood. It is a moment that in every man's life
can be identified for his own moment of growing up. Here, we
share in John's moment, and somehow, we make it our own.
=======
> "A lot of things were lucky," said Daddy, and suddenly,
>while they were walking along, brought his hand down on
>John's shoulder and gave it a bit of a squeeze. "You'll be a
>seaman yet, my son."
>
> And John, for one dreadful moment, felt that something
>was going wrong with his eyes. A sort of wetness, and
>hotness... Partly salt... Pleased though he was, he found
>himself biting his lower lip pretty hard, and looking the other
>way.
========
Why is it, after reading this passage yet another time, I, too,
feel that wet hotness in the eye.
Perhaps a personal favorite of mine did not capture your heart
and mind as it did me, but this passage was quite significant in
capturing me, and holding me to dig further into what was to
become a fantastic adventure of my entire life. I call your
attention to the very beginning, the start, the fuse that once
lit, continues to burn in my mind some 63 years after that first
time these words graced my eyes, the eyes of a seven year-old
boy, having discovered the map in the front cover, and thus
encouraged to dig in to discover what meanings were displayed
there on that map. I turned to the very start of chapter one of
Swallows and Amazons, and these three words leaped out at me,
grabbed me, and have held me for the rest of my life:
======
>Roger, aged seven,...
======
I was seven. I could understand this character. He was me; I
was him. Being seven was quite understandable to me. If
whatever was going to happen here could happen to this seven year
old, then I too could be a part of this and share whatever was to
come. The adventure had begun, and I was now a part of it all.
In Swallowdale, Chapter 7, after that traumatic moment of
crashing Swallow and watching her sink out of sight, Captain
Flint shows up and takes stock of the situation. I can well
understand if John was a bit aprehensive as to this adult's
reaction to his mishandling, and can thus share in his
appreciation of how Captain Flint handled the news.
========
> "Lost a mast? Holed her too? Well, these things will
happen."
> As Nancy Blackett always said, one of the best things about
>her Uncle Jim was that he never asked you why you tumbled down.
========
Then in Chapter 8, Captain Flint gives to all of us a bit of
philosophy that we would do well to remember:
========
>"When a thing's done, it's done, and if it's not done right,
>do it differently next time. Worrying never made a sailor."
>
>"We're all duffers sometimes, but it's only now and
>then we get found out."
=======
Also in Swallowdale, chapter 26, as they were at the half-way
camp on their way up the mountain, we are presented with this
word-picture of beauty:
=======
>The sun set a golden cap on the head of Kanchenjunga, and
>the morning glow, creeping down, found out the creases and
>wrinkles of his old face almost as well as it does in winter
>when the sunshine makes every crevice and gully a blue shadow in
>the gleaming snow.
=======
It was also in this same chapter, as they were yet at the
half-way camp, that Susan receives the grandest of accolades:
=======
>Really, if it had not been for Susan, half the Swallows'
>adventures would have been impossible, but, with a mate as good
>as that, to see that everything went as it should, there was no
>need for any native to worry about what was happening.
=======
In Picts and Martyrs, chapter 17, we get the feeling that comes
with the pride of ownership:
=======
>He climbed aboard, caught the baler that was floating
>about in her, and began to bale. Scoop... splash. Scoop...
>splash.
>...
>He baled kneeling on the thwart, shifting every minute or
>two, to get his weight on the other knee. His arms ached. His
>back ached. The odd thing was that he enjoyed it. The more
>work he put in, the more Scarab seemed to be his own. Yester-
>day when he had been sailing her, trying not to make mistakes,
>she might have been any strange boat. But now, while his back
>felt as if it would never be straight again and drops of sweat
>kept falling on his spectacles, dim already with the rain, she
>was his own boat and no one else's.
=======
The last chapter of Peter Duck, which some may feel is rather
anti-clamactic, as really, the story is already over, for they
are just coming home, but it gives a very realistic view of that
final voyage, even to the point of describing the paint patterns
on the bouy and the lettering on it, showing (in words) each step
of their progress up through the channel. I obtained a map of
the southern coast of England, and found it very meaningful to
follow along in that final voyage, locating the landmarks as they
went. The nice touch to it all was his use of the words of the
Sea Chantey, "Spanish Ladies", to announce each phase of that
voyage. It showed that the writer knew what he was writing
about. This was not just a fantasy; this is a quick review of a
real voyage. He understood the area; he understood the ship they
were sailing, its parts, its details, how it all works, and was
quite able to describe all this to the non-sailor in a way that
gives me a great appreciation of his own joy of sailing.
I do not include here a quote from that, as indeed, I would want
to include the entire chapter, but such is not feasable for this
presentation. It is quite a trip, not only for them, but for the
reader as well.
I share with other Ransome fans their love for the passage
describing the first night at Beckfoot as the D's settle down in
Picts and Martyrs. At the end of PMCH2, we see:
=======
>In spite of the big telescope lying handy, Dick decided not
>to wait for the stars. Dorothea blew out her candle and settled
>herself in the middle of the big spare-room bed. An owl called
>in the woods. "Not a barn owl, but a tawny," thought Dick,
>listening to the sharp "Gewick! Gewick!" as he fell asleep. A
>smell of new-mown hay drifted from the meadows on the further
>side of the river. "There isn't a lovelier place in all the
>world," thought Dorothea. London last night, and now Beckfoot.
>The summer holidays had begun.
=======
In Winter Holiday, chapter 2, is a note that gives us a rather
humerous picture of just who the D's really are:
=======
> Dick started.
>
> "What? What? Oh, it's you, Dot. You did give me a jump."
>
> "Well, you ought to hang out a notice when you're not there...
=======
In Swallows and Amazons, Chapter 17, as they prepared on their
voyage to the Amazon River to try to capture the Amazon's ship,
Susan, ever mindful of her job as caretaker, was admonishing
Roger to dress warmly, as they would be still in their ship come
nightfall.
=======
> "Roger," said Mate Susan, "go into your tent and put on two
>pairs of everything."
>
> "Everything?" said Roger.
>
> "Everything," said the mate. "Two vests, two pairs of drawers,
>two shirts, two pairs of knickerbockers, two pairs of
>stockings."
>
> ...
>
> "Two ties?" said Roger, going into the tent.
=======
Now that last line always struck me. Here these people are away from
their adult supervision, enjoying the camping out and "roughing it"
while at the same time, for some strange reason, Roger is still
wearing a TIE. This is a jolt to what I would consider to be normal
camping attire. Perhaps this is an indication of another culture, of
another time, but to me, it is totally out of place, and thus a great
mystery.
And there is that favorite of us all, a most magical one-liner
that invokes a wonder, a beauty, a marvel of nature itself, from
the very end of the fifth chapter of Winter Holiday:
=======
>Softly, at first, as if it hardly meant it,
>the snow began to fall.
=======
The problem with making up such lists is having to end it, for
there does not seem to be a real end to the delightful passages
of word-drawings Ransome has provided to us all. I dare to
include any passage in this list for fear of diminishing the
value of those portions not included in this impressive array, as
there is so much more in these writings than what I have been
able to list here that has meant so much to me throughout these
many years.
It has been such a pleasure to rejoin the dear friends of my
childhood, who have been able to retain their eternal
youthfulness, and by welcoming me back into their presence, I too
feel I am young, still, when I am with them. For it is in that,
where we feel the magic of All Things Ransome.
Ed Kiser, South Florida