The Eccentricities of a Nightingale by Tennessee Williams

For the second spring in a row, I have had a chance to see a local production of a Tennessee Williams play. It’s kind of funny how things tend to go in cycles. If you want to read my thoughts on The Glass Menagerie at The Empty Space, here you go. My wife and I saw this play at California State University Bakersfield, our local four year college. (CSUB recently ranked in the top three colleges nationwide for income mobility. If you want to go from income in the bottom fifth to a higher level, this is the place for you. I know a number of instructors at CSUB, and they are devoted and excellent.)

The Eccentricities of a Nightingale is the revised version of an earlier play, Summer and Smoke, which itself was originally titled Chart of Anatomy. The revised version follows roughly (but not exactly) the same plot, but with key changes to dialogue which put a different spin on the characters. I mention the different names, because I think they shed some light on the different themes found in the play, and the change in how Williams viewed them over the 15 year period between the two versions. Both versions are from Williams’ later period, with the final version of Eccentricities premiered in 1964. This is one of Williams’ lesser known plays, a fact which the director of this production, Maria-Tania Becerra, felt would free the actors from having to imitate or distinguish themselves from famous portrayals of the characters.

The plot is roughly as follows: Alma is an emotional and high strung minister’s daughter in the years before World War One. Her mother is mentally ill, and out of touch with reality. Her father believes this illness is the mother’s choice, although he acknowledges that it got worse after the tragic death of her sister. Alma is in love with John Buchanan Jr., a young doctor who is the “boy next door” all grown up. The play takes place during the course of a year beginning and ending with a 4th of July celebration in the town square.

John has an ill father, and an overbearing, overprotective mother, who insists that he marry exactly the right sort of woman, perfect in every way. Williams can write the overbearing mother like nobody else - presumably because of his own difficult relationship with his mother. The scene where Mrs. Buchanan tells - in excruciating detail - of the woman she envisions him to marry is thoroughly horrifying and so well written. John is also interested in Alma, but he knows his life will be hell if he marries her. 

 Taylor Clark (Alma) and Garrett Willis (John)

Publicity photo.

The two of them have a few moments in the first episode, when he comes to visit, but he must leave before they really connect. He returns over the Christmas holiday, and the not-quite romance takes place in this setting. There is awkward scene after awkward scene, first in her house, when he and his mother come visiting, and her mother interrupts and buttonholes John to tell him the sordid story of her sister and the mechanical inventor she eloped with. (We are given this story in bits and pieces throughout the play - and at key emotional moments.) Alma invites John to a meeting of a literary society (of which John’s mother disapproves), and things go poorly enough even before Alma’s mother makes another inopportune appearance, and John’s mother drags him home.

Later, the overwrought Alma appears at the Buchanan’s door in the wee hours of the morning, to see John’s father, who is also a doctor, about heart palpitations. As John is on strict instructions to let his father sleep, he sees Alma instead, and the romance, such as it is, takes place. John insists (against his mother’s wishes) on taking Alma to a movie on New Years Eve. After the movie is another awkward scene in the square, as Alma cannot relax, and John cannot really figure her out.

However, Alma, who at this point, has been the aggressor in the relationship, takes charge. She realizes that John can’t really love her in the way she wants, but she wants one night to remember with him. However, in the room rented for an hour, they can’t really kindle a spark (figuratively, and literally in the sense of lighting the fireplace.) The romance has fizzled, alas.

After the play, my wife and I made a bit of a date night of it, and spent the next hour or two discussing the themes. Williams is always intentional with his symbolism, and nothing happens in the play that doesn’t mean something. (Kind of like Chekhov and his guns - if you see one, it will be used…)

I found the original titles to be interesting in this regard. The revised version downplays the “anatomy” idea compared to the original, where an anatomy chart functions to make a contrast between the intellectual John and the spiritual Alma. In the later play, Alma is more emotional, and John less coldly rational - both are more human and less stock. In the final title of the original, smoke is important. Indeed, in the Eccentricities version, smoke plays a key metaphorical role. While I am no fan of tobacco, I was willing to endure the smoking in this case because it has a clear role in the play. Smoke obscures the intentions of the parties. John uses his cigarettes to avoid uncomfortable emotions. But his continual kindling of the flame also may represent his attempts to kindle a romance. Alma, on the other hand, runs hot. She is overheated even in the winter, when everyone else complains of cold. At least until the scene in the rented room, when even she cannot seem to kindle her own warmth - her passion has flamed out somehow.

The other major theme in this case is one Williams returns to often. Alma’s biggest problem is that she cannot and will not conform to expectations. She isn’t the same as other girls (and certainly not like the perfect girl Mrs. Buchanan imagines for her son), and she cannot make herself into the perfect southern girl her father wishes her to be.

Williams once said that he was Alma, and it isn’t hard to believe it. Just a bit too loud. A bit too enthusiastic, putting too much emotion and heart into things. Feeling too deeply. Not caring enough what others thought or expected.

This is where the parallel story of Alma’s aunt and the inventor is interesting. He made mechanical people who did the same thing, over and over again. (Of particular interest is the “Bird Girl,” who is kind of like Alma is expected to be - a singer who does things the same way and perfectly.) But the perfection of the mechanical menagerie is ruined when the inventor adds a live snake to the collection. This living thing does not behave mechanically. It gets cold when it is cold, and the attempts to warm it end up smothering it, and everything unravels from there. And so with Alma. She needs heat, and she has heat within her. But that heat is a threat, and she is pressured to act more mechanically. And she too is smothered - until she breaks away at the end.

As with so many of Williams’ plays, the battle between conformity and fidelity to one’s self and nature in the artistic temperament is the central theme. Particularly in the present time, this is apropos. There have always been conservative elements that have feared and hated the arts and sought to control them. (You can go as far back as the Old Testament prophets for this too - their writings are beautiful and artistic, and they were hated and hounded for speaking truth to power.) The arts are unpredictable, and far from tame. Artists tend to be divergent thinkers. They inspire us, and challenge us, and keep us from feeling comfortable. The Soviets found this out in their attempts to coerce Shostakovich and Prokofiev into writing properly patriotic works - only to find that history got the last laugh. (Shostakovich’s 5th Symphony contained a veiled reference to Soviet coercion at the end - which completely went over the heads of the censors. Prokofiev’s Lt. Kije was ostensibly a satire of Tsarist government, but is even funnier as a parody of Soviet bureaucracy…)

CSUB’s productions generally are well done, and this play was as well. Taylor Clark as Alma captured the nervous energy of the part quite well - it was easy to believe that she was Alma in real life as well. Garrett Willis had an even more difficult task as John, because he had to be the cold to Alma’s hot, which meant underacting the part. Willis did a decent job, and had chemistry with Clark, but I felt he wasn’t as convincing in the sense of having a passion for her. I am not sure if this was intentional or not. It could well be that his ambivalence about her was intended to be more on the side of lack of interest, and in that case, he was more convincing. I mean this to be a very small criticism on what was otherwise a solid performance. I will also note that he played off of the controlling mother quite well, with a languid aspect and a strategy of non-engagement with her attempts at control.

I will single out Phoebe Pyne, who portrayed Mrs. Buchanan, as outstanding. Whenever she was on stage, she owned it - just like the character should. Mrs. Buchanan is the 800 pound gorilla, who does as she pleases, and nobody can stand up to her. Her arrogance and selfishness and disregard for anything other than her own interests is key to this play. (And also an interesting contrast to Amanda in The Glass Menagerie, who lacks the social power of Mrs. Buchanan, and therefore relies on manipulation rather than bullying. Likewise, John lacks the self-confidence, and more importantly, shuns conflict, in contrast to Tom, who stands up to his mother with devastating results.

In preparation for this production, the actors made a study of dialect. Faculty member Mendy McMasters took a trip Tennessee Williams’ hometown, Clarksdale Mississippi, and made a collection of vocal samples to aid in the study. For a bunch of Californians (and you know we don’t have accents - we talk like normal people…) to switch to dialect was a challenge, and exactly the sort that college students should have to do as part of their training. I am not well qualified to judge how good the dialect was, having never lived in the South, but it wasn’t bad. Generally, I would say that the main characters sounded more comfortable at it than the bit characters, which is probably to be expected. In any case, I think the decision to go with dialect over straight speech was a solid one.

One final thing to mention: this play was done in the very small Arena Theatre (which is as much a backstage space as anything). The sets were minimalist, but intriguing. All of the furniture was designed and made using a new CAD and computer cutting system at the college. This made for some fairly intricate and elegant designs made simply yet strongly. I found it interesting, at least. Your mileage may vary.

An interesting play, a good production, and a dear friend to discuss it with afterward. What could be better?

From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler by E. L. Konigsburg

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

This is another book that my second daughter had already read and recommended. Oddly, I wasn’t particularly familiar with either the book or the author, even though this book dates from 1967. Apparently, it was even made into a movie starring Ingrid Bergman. I had no idea.

 The author illustrated the book as well. 

A few puritan sorts complain about the depiction of naked kids (and water sprites) in the fountain...

Elaine Lobl Konigsburg passed on a few years back, but wrote well into her 70s. This is her second book, submitted for publication along with her first. She previously was a teacher, took a hiatus to get her children old enough to go to school, then returned to teaching, art, and writing.  

This particular book takes an interesting approach to the “how to get rid of the parents” problem that is common in books for children. After all, if the parents were around, they would (presumably) be of some help in resolving problems, and definitely would put the kibosh on many an exciting adventure. Historically, this was often done by orphaning the protagonists. (The “dead parents” solution.) Although it is definitely still used, it is of less use for stories in a modern setting, where, in contrast to even 100 years ago, parents are highly likely to survive until the kids - and grandkids - are grown. Newer books, therefore, have to opt for other solutions to free up their heroes and heroines. Catherynne Valente and Madeleine L’Engle, among others, transport the children to another dimension, as it were. Gary Paulsen strands his hero in an accident. Others have the parents themselves removed - where they may need rescue. Polly Horvath makes the parents the children, incompetent hippies, who are part of the problem the child must overcome.

Konigsburg, however, puts a fun twist on another venerable device: the child who runs away from home. This, of course, has its genesis in tales as old as time, including many a fairy tale. Konigsburg, however, does not include magic, fairies, or anything really that would not qualify as “realistic.” Other than, of course, the ability of two children to run away and not be discovered.

Twelve year old Claudia is the only girl and oldest child in her family. She feels unappreciated and ordinary, and chafes at looking after the baby of the family and doing housework. Thus, she plots to run away, taking her brother Jamie, mostly because he has saved up more money than she has. The two of them find an unused train pass in the trash, and head for New York City and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Where else, right?)

The first part of the book is all about how they get settled in, avoid the guards, and make plans to survive long term. However, a mystery arises. The museum makes a mysterious purchase of a statue for far below market value. It is rumored to be by Michelangelo himself, but its provenance is obscure. The debate rages, and Claudia decides to investigate herself, and try to solve the mystery. Alas, she is far too naive to actually succeed, and eventually decides to go talk to the seller, the titular Mrs. Frankenweiler herself.

The story itself is charming, but I think the stronger part of the book is the way the characters are handled. Konigsburg respects her young protagonists even as she portrays them as possessing average, ordinary traits for their ages. They know and understand a lot about their world, other people, and themselves - something I think adults underestimate in children. (My own parents, I think, understood this better than average.) It is the adults that think children are somehow stupid that cannot see what is really going on. Instead, those few adults who treat the children like full human beings are the ones who actually connect. The anonymous correspondent from the Met who responds to Claudia’s anonymous letter is delightfully non-condescending, particularly under the circumstances. It is this letter which prompts Claudia to seek out Mrs. Frankenweiler, who also refuses to underestimate the children, even as she is able to use her own greater experience and knowledge to outwit them.

The story is largely from Claudia’s point of view (except for the framing story, which is from Mrs. Frankenweiler’s perspective), and it is her inner struggle which is most interesting. She, like all of us, wants to fit in, but also stand out. She doesn’t want to be “just another girl” that her parents take for granted. She wants to feel special in some way, and do something extraordinary. The frustration she feels at being stuck as a kid in an ordinary life is quite recognizable. The grand scheme to run away to a great art museum, and spend the days systematically exploring and learning sounds a bit like heaven to me too, I must admit.

The story went over well with the kids, and I found it enjoyable as well. It deserved its Newbery Medal for the well written characters and psychological perceptiveness. We will have to check out a few more of her books.

***

This audiobook was read by Jan Miner, who did a fine job.

Remembering Jim Crow: African Americans Tell About Life in the Segregated South

Source of book: Borrowed from the library

I don’t usually link to places to purchase books. I have not monetized my blog in any way, and will not make a dime if you purchase from a link on my site, so it never made sense to link things. However, I decided to link this book, because it lacks an “author” as such, and might not be intuitive to find. Anyway, here it is: Remembering Jim Crow: African Americans Tell About Live in the Segregated South. 

 

When I selected a book to read for my annual Black History Month reading, I had intended that I just read Black Boy (American Hunger) by Richard Wright. However, I made the “mistake” of going to the library during February and, naturally, checking out the Black History Month display. As a result, I guess I actually have three books for this month, one of which is this one. Don’t worry, I will have reviews of the others as well.

I am starting with this one, however, because I think if you are going to pick just one, this is the one to read.

If you haven’t checked out my other Black History Month selections, here they are, along with other notable books by other authors of African heritage:

2011:    50 Years and Other Poems by James Weldon Johnson

2012:    Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

2013:    The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. DuBois

2014:     Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison

2015:     Kindred by Octavia Butler

2016:   Go Tell It On The Mountain by James Baldwin

Other notable books by African American or African authors:

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Poems by Phillis Wheatley
Zone One by Colson Whitehead

Books on Black History by other authors:

Red Tails, Black Wings by John B. Holway

The Civil War as a Theological Crisis by Mark Noll

Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

***

This book is part of the Behind the Veil Project at Duke University. During the late 1990s, hundreds of interviews were done of men and women who had lived during Jim Crow. These stories were told by the participants themselves, and are filled with humor, pathos, and gritty humanity. As a result, they are extraordinarily powerful, the way all good true stories are.

This book is also an example of why Black History Month is necessary in the first place.

I’ve probably mentioned it before, but I was homeschooled from second grade on. Before that, I (more or less) attended a church-affiliated private school. (More or less, because I was out sick so often that I was doing as much work at home as at school anyway.) At that time, there wasn’t a whole lot of variety in the available curriculum. I say this because the curriculum itself pretty much ignored the 20th Century except the world wars and the cold war. (Communism was BAD, yo!) Jim Crow and the Civil Rights Movement were pretty much glossed over. For a pretty good example of this glaring gap, another homeschool alumnus wrote this post.  

Fortunately, my parents helped fill in many of the gaps, although I think their own knowledge was a bit gappy because they both grew up overseas, and thus didn’t really live through the Civil Rights Movement. I don’t want to create the impression that this is just a homeschool issue, though. I have been astounded at the level of ignorance of Black History among people I know - particularly the Baby Boomer generation. I guess the public schools back in the day were pretty white supremacist. I have to remind myself that they grew up during segregation. Even now, though, states like Texas and Virginia have had their curricula examined and it appears that the Lost Cause Myth is still taught many places in this country.

For homeschoolers, it really depends, I think. I probably got a slightly better education than many of my peers on racial issues. But it could and should have been a lot better. I have had to make up a tremendous amount of ground. (It doesn’t help that I skipped my undergrad work and went straight to law school. That is one regret that I have about how I did things.) My kids, on the other hand, are getting a much more balanced history education.

Others, though, definitely did not get it. I have mentioned in other posts my wife’s experience in a cultic group - which contained a number of full blown white supremacists. Even in the last few weeks, I have seen some comments from kids who grew up in an affiliated group that were viciously racist. (“There is nothing wrong with stereotypes. They are simply people observing and seeing characteristics in other groups.” Um, sure. Nothing to do with confirmation bias of prejudice…)

The overwhelming problem, though, is that Black History is indeed given short shrift. “History is written by the victors” is a bit of a truism - and not universally true, exactly - but it does contain some grain of truth, that the dominant class does use its power to suppress the stories of those it defeats and oppresses. And right now, it is very much in the interest of those who would have you believe that racism no longer exists to hide the rather recent history of white supremacy enforced by the power of law and sustained by culture and economic structures. The reason that white nationalism has been able to capture our government is that it is not recognized as such by enough people.

These stories are part of the antidote. Jim Crow wasn’t just about separation. It was about humiliation. It was about expressly directing the economic resources, both private and especially public, away from non-white communities and toward white communities. It was about a continual reminder of who occupied what place in society. It was about punishing those who dared to rise above their station, in some cases by murder of the successful. It was about systematic robbing of oppressed through the sharecropper system, through making the well-paying and less dangerous jobs “whites only,” and by looking at blacks as marks to be exploited, rather than neighbors to be loved and protected. It was about suppressing the voting rights of non-whites through a creative variety of obstacles designed to keep blacks from voting. (This idea is making a comeback in states like North Carolina where voting restrictions were expressly based on the negative effects they would have on black voters.)

In these stories, you see that the stereotypes of today were present back then - and that they existed to justify harming non-whites. Under Jim Crow, as under slavery, black women were considered available for white men to rape and assault. (Blacks have no sexual self control - she asked for it.) Under Jim Crow, as under slavery, black men would be killed if they looked at a white woman. (Blacks have no sexual self control - they all want to rape white women.) Under Jim Crow, whites would pressure blacks to work from dawn until dusk, and for the children to go work in the fields rather than stay in school. (Blacks are lazy.) Curfews are needed, so that blacks can’t go outside their homes after dark - and can’t hang around downtown. (Blacks are just more criminal than whites and must be controlled.) I have heard each of these stereotypes used by people I know in the last year.

Another reason these stories are necessary is that they give the lie to the idea (so prevalent in right wing circles) that poverty is caused by immorality. If anything, the stories from the Jim Crow era show a sense of community that I greatly envy. Separated from other sources of protection, African American communities came together to take care of themselves in ways that have been largely lost. (I will be reviewing The Way We Never Were by Stephanie Koontz next month - and she details the rise of the belief in individualism that denies responsibility to care for others in the community. It’s very interesting.) In this book, families that didn’t have much to share found ways, and even banded together against white violence on many occasions. In these communities, where women had to - and had always had to - work, extended family, neighbors, and even strangers helped watch and care for children. It’s quite inspiring. If our world needs anything right now, it isn’t lectures about how families “ain’t what they used to be” but a renewed sense that we are our brother’s keeper, and that we have responsibilities to care for those outside our nuclear family, our extended family, and our tribe.

But perhaps the most important reason we need to know these stories are that the suppression of the truth is the most necessary weapon in continuing oppression and injustice. In every act of hate, in every case of governmental violence against minority groups, in every instance of tribalism, there has been - and indeed had to be - lies about history and experience. You cannot justify violence without demonizing the “other,” and you cannot demonize the “other” without lying about them. And if the truth - the true history - is known, you cannot sustain the lie that justifies hate and oppression.

Near the beginning of this book, there is a quote from civil rights leader (and theologian) Howard Thurman, who mentored Martin Luther King Jr. and helped him embrace non-violence. It comes from Thurman’s book, The Luminous Darkness.

A white supremacist society must not only “array all the forces of legislation and law enforcement,” he wrote; “it must falsify the facts of history, tamper with the insights of religion and religious doctrine, editorialize and slant news and the printed word. On top of that it must keep separate schools, separate churches, separate graveyards, and separate public accommodations - all this in order to freeze the place of the Negro in society and guarantee his basic immobility.”

And also this amazing quote, about the level of fear necessary to justify this level of violence:

“Once again, to state it categorically, the measure of a man’s estimate of your strength is the kind of weapons he feels he must use in order to hold you fast in a prescribed place.”

Remember that when you hear talk of multi-billion dollar walls, and see military weapons directed against protesters.

And really, if you are looking for a theme in this book - and in our current day with a renewed degree of overt racial tension (very likely triggered by a black man in the white house), it is this: once upon a time, “they” knew their place.

In the epilogue to the book, a transcript of the NPR series on the interviews, the interviewer talks to a white man who is directly descended from plantation owners (and still has his inherited wealth from that era). He noted that everyone just assumed that Jim Crow was “the way things were.” Asked if African Americans in his experience ever raised the issue, he said no. “No. No, they knew their place.”

And think about it, every time an unarmed black man is gunned down by police, what do you hear? “He should have been more respectful/careful/non-threatening and so on. Or, more accurately, he should have known his place. It’s a burden that I will never have to bear.

If I were to single out the most infuriating and heartbreaking part of the book, it would be the fact that there was a need to not just oppress, but humiliate non-whites. Make them cross to the other side of the road, not look people in the eye, wait until all whites were served before getting service, make do with substandard schools, not insist on equal humanity.

Ultimately, this is at the heart of our current tensions. Will we or will we not grant equal humanity to those outside our tribe? Or will we continue to demonize them, fear them, and insist that our own prejudices are just based on reality?

I cannot recommend this book enough. It is simply fantastic, and should be read by everyone. I am strongly considering adding it to my own library. But whether you buy it or borrow it, please read this book.

***

I couldn’t figure out where to put it in the body of the review, so I am putting it here. Georgia Sutton, in her interview, talks a lot about what she learned from her mother. The best line was what her mother used to tell her:

“Use that head for something other than to hold a hat.”

***

One more on the way that things were spun in certain “Christian” history curricula. (see the link above for more) You could count on two specific African Americans being part of the history course, and they were always Booker T. Washington and George Washington Carver. I didn’t really realize why until I read The Souls of Black Folk. Washington in particular fell on one side of an important argument (Du Bois was on the other) over educational philosophy. Should blacks be educated for industrial and agricultural skills? Or be trained to be leaders and white collar workers? Particularly at the time, this was a huge question. Was it more important (as Washington saw it) to obtain jobs and attempt to build economic assets first? Or was it more important to train leaders who could overcome Jim Crow through political means?

Or, to put it a different way, was it better to educate blacks to serve in menial professions and remain and underclass, or to train them to be upwardly mobile?

Obviously, the answer to the writers of certain curricula was to only teach about the one side of the debate. It was a bit of a revelation to read the other side.

To be clear, I have tremendous respect for Washington and Carver, who I believe did a lot of good in the world. (Also, you should definitely read Up From Slavery. It’s really good.) But I also respect Du Bois, who I think was perhaps more correct in the long run, that whites would never respect wealthy blacks - and that they would do everything in their power to keep blacks from rising above their station.

***

What the heck does “Jim Crow” even mean, and where did the term come from? It was used by both blacks and whites during the era to describe the system of segregation. But how did it originate?

It turns out it comes from a Blackface minstrel song, “Jump Jim Crow,” by Thomas “Daddy” Rice, who claimed to have based it on a song he heard a stablehand sing back in the 1820s. So it goes way back before the Civil War, and came to refer to a negative caricature of African Americans.

***

One more note on the way the facts of history are falsified to suit a white supremacist narrative. Phil Robertson (of Duck Dynasty) got in some controversy because of derogatory comments about LGBTQ people a couple of years back. What didn’t get as much publicity, however, what what he also said in the same interview.

He made the claim that blacks were actually happier during Jim Crow.

I never, with my eyes, saw the mistreatment of any black person. Not once. Where we lived was all farmers. The blacks worked for the farmers. I hoed cotton with them. I’m with the blacks, because we’re white trash. We’re going across the field .... They’re singing and happy. I never heard one of them, one black person, say, ‘I tell you what: These doggone white people’—not a word! ... Pre-entitlement, pre-welfare, you say: Were they happy? They were godly; they were happy; no one was singing the blues.

Well, presumably, in an era where complaining could get you lynched, they weren’t about to complain to a redneck white.

This is exactly what I mean - and Howard Thurman meant - by the falsification of history. Robertson undoubtedly believes that his experience as a white during Jim Crow is the truth about the era.

This book gives the lie to that arrogant falsification of history.

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.