Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

Source of book: Audiobook from the library (but I do own a good hardback of this book too)

One of the very first audio books we listened to on our camping adventures was Treasure Island. I figured we were due for some more Stevenson, and Kidnapped was the obvious choice. I have, of course, read the book multiple times, but it has been quite a while since I last read it. I still cannot decide whether I prefer this book or Treasure Island. On the one hand, much of what we have ingrained in our cultural consciousness about pirates, treasure, and indeed a whole genre, comes from Treasure Island. On the other, Kidnapped has its own share of memorable characters and recurring themes of friendship, loyalty, betrayal, and the conflict between competing duties. 

 N. C. Wyeth's illustrations are still the best ever.

The plot itself is pretty sparse. Young David Balfour is orphaned, and goes to his estranged uncle to seek his fortune, but is betrayed and sold into slavery. The ship, however, is wrecked in the Hebrides after taking on a mysterious passenger, Allan Breck Stewart, an actual person. Actual events (although not quite historically accurate) then ensue. The king’s agent, Colin Roy Campbell, is murdered by a sniper, and David is suspected of being an accessory - and Allan the shooter. The two of them flee across Scotland in a memorable journey and adventure. Allan must eventually reach France and safety, while David (who isn’t known by name, and thus cannot be connected to the murder except by his connection to Allan) wishes to contact the family lawyer and reclaim his inheritance from his nefarious uncle.

So much for the plot. Other than David, who is purely fictional - his last name was Stevenson’s mother’s maiden name - and the characters connected with David’s family, the major characters are all drawn from history. Kidnapped is thus historical fiction, much in the vein of Sir Walter Scott. In fact, Scott’s Rob Roy is set after the Appin Murder, and mentions both the event and Allan Breck Stewart. Stevenson was inspired by Scott’s novel to write his own.

Certainly Stevenson can write an exciting fight scene. The standoff in the roundhouse is one of the finest, and stands with the parallel scene in Treasure Island as inspiration for so many set pieces which have come afterward, both in print and on the big and small screens.

But what makes this book so satisfying is the friendship between David and Allan, made more realistic by their all too inevitable quarrel, precipitated by exhaustion and fear, and resolved not by apologies but by pity and mutual need. I have long felt that Stevenson captured something true about friendship here, that words often get in the way, and that some things cannot just be resolved by talking it out. Catharsis, such as it is, comes through actions and through a needed rest.

Since it has been a lot of years since I read this, and since I am a much older and experienced man, I did note some things which I did not recall from my previous readings. One of these was the mention of what is essentially a Scottish version of Irish Cream. (Atholl brose.) For those who care, it has whiskey, honey, and cream - but also the liquid from soaking oatmeal in water overnight. I am inclined to believe that I was below drinking age when I last read this, and my knowledge of ardent spirits (to quote Jeeves) wasn’t exactly extensive. It might be fun to try to make my own version of this drink.

Another thing that kind of passed me by was the specifics of the Jacobite Rebellion - and really, the various religious sects mentioned. David is a Covenanter - a Scotch Presbyterian. This theology has so influenced religion in the United States that it is hard to overstate it. I will also note that these beliefs are crucial to a main character in The Heart of Midlothian, which is one of Scott’s great works featuring Scottish characters. The Jacobites, of course, were Catholic, while George II and the English were Anglican. But the subtleties were lost on the young me, of course, particularly the history of religious warfare in Great Britain.

I should also mention the use of Scottish dialect in this book. I did stop the CD and explain a few words to the younger kids. My second daughter loves this book, and is already plenty fluent. I consider this book to be a bit of a gateway drug into the world of Scots. Stevenson intentionally kept the dialect accessible, as he was aiming for a younger audience. From Stevenson, one can then read Sir Walter Scott, which is a bit more difficult. Advanced level readers will tackle Robert Burns.

This audiobook was read by Jim Weiss, a veteran of audiobooks, and a fine reader. I particularly appreciated his distinctive female voices, which seemed to come from a totally different person. He handled the dialect perfectly, and distinguished between various gruff Scots remarkably well. I would definitely recommend him as a narrator.

This book was one of the first classics I read as a kid, and it was one reason that I eventually tackled Scott. My kids too enjoy Stevenson, and I encourage parents to introduce their children to him as well - and at a younger age than they tend to think. Even younger kids will appreciate the adventure and the excellent writing.

Reading With My Kids: Treasure Island by Robert Lewis Stevenson

Source of book: We own this, but listened to an audiobook version on our vacation.

It is difficult to think of a book that better fits the description of a children’s “classic” than Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. The characters - or at least their types - are so ingrained in our cultural consciousness that we don’t even realize where they came from. Who doesn’t envision the pirate with one leg missing, or climbing the rigging of a ship with a knife between the teeth, or the castaway eager to return to civilization? Buried pirate treasure undoubtedly predated Stevenson as an idea, but now it would be unimaginable without the long-hidden map, with the location of the treasure marked with a red X and a cryptic description of the location. Even the parrot on the shoulder comes from this story.

I selected this book for our trip initially as a book to read to the kids, but they requested we bring it on our trip, rather than wait until we finished our current book.

I was surprised that, out of all my kids, it was my older son who was uninterested in Treasure Island. It’s not because he dislikes books - he has his nose in them continually. It isn’t that he dislikes adventures either - he has enjoyed the other adventures we have read, and he reads them regularly himself. About all I can think of is that the opening goes kind of slow, and he was too busy reading his Hardy Boys books to pay attention to something else. Who knows? Regardless, he at least listened to enough to go around the house singing “Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!” to a tune of his own invention.

The rest enjoyed it very much indeed, and were eager to get to the end and find out how it all resolved.

Treasure Island is one of those books that contains nearly no female characters. Young Jim Hawkins’ mother appears briefly, but that is it. Stevenson himself consciously wrote it as an all male story, intending it to be directed solely at boys. This hasn’t stopped girls from enjoying it by any stretch. My wife devoured Stevenson and Jules Verne as a child, and my own girls took to it very quickly.

(Side note: We also listened to about an hour of Zane Gray’s Riders of the Purple Sage on the way back, and it wasn’t popular. I found it gratingly cheesy, while the kids found it too slow. Too much Mormon politics, presumably. My eldest daughter, age 11 going on 25, complained that for a western, it didn’t have nearly enough violence. Note to future suitors of my daughters: I don’t think a father with a shotgun is your biggest worry.)

One thing that I remembered about the book from the times I read it was that it was morally ambiguous. For a kid’s book - particularly in the Victorian Era - this must have been shocking. Long John Silver is a consummate politician, playing both sides while looking out solely for himself. He is capable of kindness, but not loyalty. He is neither as bad nor as good as he could be. In short, he is the most compelling character in the story. He is difficult to like, but doesn’t inspire loathing either.

On the other hand, it is hard to say that this book is immoral by any stretch. It is merely more complex, and allows a certain level of shades of gray, which I believe is a good thing, even - particularly perhaps - for children, who tend to think in terms of good and bad people.

The other gray area, which is interesting, is that Jim’s adventures occur not just because of circumstance, but because of his own not-quite-good choices. Jim disobeys the captain and leaves the stockade, much to the irritation of the others, but he manages to preserve the ship and help tip the tide of the conflict. This is in contrast to many a story, where circumstances force the young protagonist to make decisions on his own. Jim goes from boy to a man in the typical coming-of-age sense, but he gets his opportunities because he makes them. The story has more in common with Peter and the Wolf than with The Island of the Blue Dolphins. 

I find it fascinating that Jim’s decisions are neither particularly great nor terrible. They are impulsive, and aren’t necessarily well thought through, but they also show some strategy and canniness. They are believable. They also do not end neatly or disastrously. They work out, but barely. This is, of course, a great recipe for an adventure, because it isn’t predictable.

I have always enjoyed reading Stevenson, including the sadly underrated and unread short stories, and highly recommend him to anyone who loves adventure, young or old, boy or girl. Many of his works show more depth of thought, but Treasure Island remains one of the best adventure stories of all time. 

The original pirate treasure map, drawn by Stevenson for the first edition.