Post Captain by Patrick O’Brian

Post Captain by Patrick O’Brian

I don’t know what to say except that, embarrassingly, I have wayyy too many quotes for this one. The second volume in the series, Jack and Stephen hang out in the countryside with nothing much to do and end up in their own mildly disastrous version of Pride and Prejudice and I spend a significant number of the 473 pages thinking, “Someone, please just give the man a boat and get him out of here!”

Alright, the plethora of quotes. We hit the ground running from page 13, where intending to meet the neighbors, Jack and Stephen are in the middle of a fox hunt and then!:

‘Get over, you —‚’ said the girl, and in her pure clear young voice. Jack had never heard a girl say — before, and he turned to look at her with a particular interest. She was busy coping with the mare’s excitement, but after a moment she caught his eye and frowned. He looked away, smiling, for she was the prettiest thing —indeed, beautiful, with her heightened colour and her fine straight back, sitting her horse with the unconscious grace of a midshipman at the tiller in a lively sea. She had black hair and blue eyes; a certain ram-you-damn-you air that was slightly comic and more than a little touching in so slim a creature. She was wearing a shabby blue habit with white cuffs and lapels, like a naval lieutenant’s coat, and on top of it all a dashing tricorne with a tight curl of ostrich-feather. In some ingenious way, probably by the use of combs, she had drawn up hair under this hat so as to leave one ear exposed; and this perfect ear, as Jack observed when the mare came crabwise towards him, was as pink as…

‘There is that fox of theirs,’ remarked Stephen, in a conversational tone. ‘There is that fox we hear so much about. Though indeed, it is a vixen, sure.’

I laughed out loud because Stephen is fucking hilarious.

Mrs. Williams was so reminiscent of the mom in Pride and Prejudice it really was entertaining. Or maybe it’s just the era and all moms were like this, though how sad would that be:

Mapes Court was an entirely feminine household — not a man in it, apart from the butler and the groom. Mrs Williams was a woman, in the natural course of things; but she was a woman so emphatically, so totally a woman, that she was almost devoid of any private character.

Naturally, the ladies want to get the dirt on their new eligible neighbor(s) but the Admiral is not so helpful:

‘However,’ he continued, wondering at the sudden chill in the room, ‘it is a no go, no go at all, now that I recollect. He told Trimble, who suggested a match with his sister-in-law, that he had quite given up women. It seems that he was so unfortunate in his last attachment, that he has quite given up women. And indeed he is an unlucky wight, whatever they may call him: there is not only this wretched business of his promotion and his father’s cursed untimely marriage, but he also has a couple of neutral prizes in the Admiralty court, on appeal. I dare say that is why he is perpetually fagging up and down to London. He is an unlucky man, no doubt; and no doubt he has come to understand it. So he has very rightly given up all thoughts of marriage, in which luck is everything — has quite given up women.’

This is hilarious in its own right because the entire book (maybe the entire series, for all I know, we’re only on book two) Jack flip flops from “I fuckin love women!” to “No more women, Stephen, I swear, I’m done.” In this book alone we see this vacillation several times and it’s great every time.

For example, here is Jack all of about 3 pages later:

‘I remember how well she sat her horse…By God, a year or two back I should have —. How a man changes. But even so, I do love being surrounded by girls —so very different from men. She said several handsome things about the service — spoke very sensibly — thoroughly understood the importance of the weather-gage. She must have naval connections. I do hope we see her again. I hope we see them all again.’

Meanwhile, Mrs. Williams isn’t marrying off a daughter fast enough and is wondering if that Jack Aubrey is a bit…queer so to speak. Heh:

The acquaintance ripened; but it did not mature, it did not progress as fast as Mrs Williams would have liked. Captain Aubrey could not have been more friendly — perhaps too friendly; there was none of that languishing she longed to see, no pallor, nor even any marked particularity. He seemed to be as happy with Frances as he was with Sophia, and sometimes Mrs Williams wondered if he really were quite the thing — whether those strange tales about sea-officers might possibly be true in his case. Was it not very odd that he should live with Dr Maturin?

Why, no, I don’t think it’s odd at all, I think it’s the absolute perfect living arrangement for both of them.

So, while Jack is theoretically wooing Sophia, Stephen is making a move on her widow cousin Diana (the aforementioned vixen) in the smoothest, most Stephen way possible:

They rode up Heberden Down: a still, brilliant morning with a little frost; the creak of leather, the smell of horse, steaming breath. ‘I am not in the least degree interested in women as such,’ said Stephen. ‘Only in person. There is Polcary,’ he added, nodding over the valley, ‘That is where I first saw you, on your cousin’s chestnut. Let us ride over there tomorrow. I can show you a remarkable family of particoloured stoats, a congregation of stoats.’

Yes, Stephen, show me your remarkable particolored stoats, I can’t wait. But don’t think that whole “I’m not in the least degree interested in women as such” bit didn’t go unnoticed. My fujoshi eyes locked in on that at record speed.

It becomes apparent fairly early on that (when it comes to the opposite sex, at least) no one in this volume is honest about what they want. Diana, to Stephen:

‘Stuff, Maturin. In any case, he needs a different woman and she needs a different man: in a way you might be much more suited to her, if you could stand her ignorance.’

‘So Jack Aubrey might answer?’

‘Yes, I like him well enough. I should prefer a man more — what shall I say? More grown up, less of a boy — less of a huge boy.’

This is relevant because at some point we had Diana telling Stephen she didn’t want a relationship with him, didn’t want one with Jack, but now you get the feeling that since things are taking off between Jack and her cousin, she “likes him well enough.” Everyone is playing the field here.

But also worth noting is the “less of a huge boy” which is great because that’s actually what Jack is.

Now, despite Diana being not interested but sometimes interested in Jack and not at all interested in Stephen, she and Stephen are apparently no strangers to midnight rendezvous:

‘So you walked again? Are you not allowed out at night? Anyone would think you were married to that man.’

Stephen should be married to that man, it would make this whole thing way easier for everyone.

Also love how the women occasionally say things like this that come so close to hitting the nail on the head.

By page 89 we see that Jack is well and truly an idiot as he’s trying to explain having a thing going with one girl (Sophie) while some “innocent” attentions to her cousin and this excerpt is a bit long but I think it best illustrates the entire fucking mess he’s gotten himself into:

‘Well, yes, really; though I dare say they might have been misinterpreted. An astonishingly lovely girl, or rather woman — had been married once, husband knocked on the head in India — with a splendid dash and courage. And then, while I was eating my heart out between the Admiralty and the money-lenders in the City, I learnt that some fellow had made her an offer of marriage — it was spoken of everywhere as a settled thing I cannot tell you how it hurt me. And this other girl, the one who stayed in Sussex, was so kind and sympathetic, and so very beautiful too, that I — well, you understand me. But, however, as soon as I thought things were going along capitally with her, and that we were very close friends, she pulled me up as though I had run into a boom, and asked me who the devil I thought I was? I had lost all my money by then, as you know; so upon my word, I could scarcely tell what to answer, particularly as I had begun to make out that maybe she was attached to my best friend, and perhaps the other way too, you follow me. I was not quite sure, but it looked damnably like it, above all when they parted. But I was so infernally hooked — could not sleep could not eat — and sometimes she was charming to me again. So I committed myself pretty far, partly out of pique, do you see? Oh, God damn it all, if only — And then on top of it all there comes a letter from the first girl —’

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD JUST GET THIS MAN ON A BOAT AND SAVE HIM FROM HIMSELF

Thankfully, he is somewhat saved from himself because he is absolutely broke and horribly in debt (due to getting screwed over, for once he’s in deep shit not entirely his fault) and he (thanks to Stephen) flees the collectors. Meanwhile, war is going to break out and they are in what has just become enemy territory. So what do they do to make it to safety?

The logical thing of course: put Jack in a bear suit and disguise him as a trained bear and hike hundreds of miles across the border to Stephen’s castle.

Not only did I read the paragraph multiple times because I was like, “are you shitting me, did they really just put the man in a bear suit and he’s trekking cross country disguised as a bear wtf plot is this” but also I had to smile to myself just a little. Jack is a bear, literally in a bear suit, a bear, huh? It reminds me too much of how in danmei they so often have a seemingly-innocent scene where one of the character’s sleeves is literally cut.

Anyway…

They finally make it to safety and Jack finally gets to shuck his bear suit and scrub himself clean…under the watchful eye of Stephen:

‘You have lost between three and four stone,’ observed Stephen, appraising his loins and belly.

Fellas, is it gay to appraise another man’s loins and belly?

So this and that happens and they end up on a boat somehow and there are a couple girls traveling on it but the boat gets overtaken and fucking Jack:

‘My dear Miss Lamb,’ he cried, taking her free hand, ‘I hope I see you well. Quite well?’ he said earnestly, meaning ‘not too much raped?’

For the record, Miss Lamb was fine (I think?).

And of course this and that happens and Jack and Stephen are once again living together:

At present they were lodging in an idyllic cottage near the Heath with green shutters and a honeysuckle over the door — idyllic in summer, that is to say. They were looking after themselves, living with rigid economy; and there was no greater proof of their friendship than the way their harmony withstood their very grave differences in domestic behaviour. In Jack’s opinion Stephen was little better than a slut: his papers, odd bits of dry, garlic’d bread, his razors and small-clothes lay on and about his private table in a miserable squalor; and from the appearance of the grizzled wig that was now acting as a tea-cosy for his milk-saucepan, it was clear that he had breakfasted on marmalade.

Even excluding the entertaining use of the word “slut” I really love descriptions like these because you really feel the love. Jack is simultaneously disgusted and smitten.

But this peace doesn’t last for long, the girls enter the picture again and the boys run into Diana at some party. In true Diana fashion, first she flirts with Stephen, then Jack, getting his opinion on a painting:

‘That is exactly what Maturin told me you would say,’ cried Diana, squeezing his arm. ‘How well he knows you, Aubrey.’

…Remember what I said about the girls getting so close to hitting the nail on the head?

We see it just a bit later, Stephen talking to Sophia:

‘What a good friend you are to him, Dr Maturin. His other friends are so grateful to you.’

And in case you’re wondering “wait, I thought Stephen liked Diana—why is he chatting with Sophia?” it’s because he’s trying to hook up Jack and Sophia and in the process he’s become Sophia’s confidante. Reporting on Jack’s condition (because Diana had told Sophia Jack was ‘diminished‘):

‘He has aged, maybe,’ said Stephen. ‘but he still eats for six; and although I should no longer call him grossly obese, he is far too fat.’

Much like Jack complaining about Stephen’s squalor, Stephen is always complaining about Jack being a fatass. I can’t read him bitching about this without it coming across as dripping with affection.

So finally I think they’re getting a boat and getting away from these damn girls and anyway:

‘Thank you, Stephen. I am very much obliged to you. You must have had a damned long ride of it. Indeed, you look dog-tired, quite done up. Just tie my hair for me, like a good fellow, and then you shall turn in. I must get you an assistant, a surgeon’s mate: you work too hard.’

“Just tie my hair up for me” yeah whatever you say, totally straight good friend.

This next (long) bit is probably my favorite in the book. There’s been some shit here and there where the boys were splitting up, I thought there was even going to be a duel (???) and it was all so sad so to have this moment, the two back on a boat, just made it feel like, “ah, things are right again”:

‘Yes, I may preach a sermon to the ship’s company next Sunday.’

‘You? Preach a sermon?’

‘Certainly. Captains often do, when no chaplain is carried. I always made do with the Articles of War in the Sophie, but now I think I shall give them a clear, well-reasoned ­ come, what’s the matter? What is so very entertaining about my preaching a sermon? Damn your eyes, Stephen.’ Stephen was doubled in his chair, rocking to and fro, uttering harsh spasmodic squeaks; tears ran down his face. ‘What a spectacle you are, to be sure. Now I come to think of it, I do not believe I have ever heard you laugh before. It is a damned illiberal row, I can tell you — it doesn’t suit you at all. Squeak, squeak. Very well: you shall laugh your bellyful.’ He turned away with something about ‘pragmatical apes ­ simpering; tittering’ and affected to look into the Bible without the least concern; but there are not many who can find themselves the object of open, whole-hearted, sincere, prostrating laughter without being put out of countenance, and Jack was not one of these few. However, Stephen’s mirth died away in time — a few last crowing whoops and it was over. He got to his feet, and dabbing his face with a handkerchief he took Jack by the hand. ‘I am so sorry,’ he said. ‘I beg your pardon. I would not have vexed you for the world. But there is something so essentially ludicrous, so fundamentally comic…that is to say, I had so droll an association of ideas — pray do not take it personally at all. Of course you shall preach to the men; I am persuaded it will have a most striking effect.’

‘Well,’ said Jack, with a suspicious glance, ‘I am glad it afforded you so much innocent merriment at all events. Though what you find…’

‘What is your text, pray?’

‘Are you making game of me, Stephen?’

‘Never, upon my word: would scorn it.’

Re-reading it just now I can’t quit smiling, is this not the cutest fucking thing.

Ugh, but then we’re back to girls. Sophia talking to Stephen:

‘Does he know of your feelings for Diana? Surely not. Surely, to his best friend, he would never…He loves you dearly.’

At least Sophia gets it. (Not that Jack knowing Stephen’s feelings would prevent Jack from making a move on Diana (unfortunately) but that he loves Stephen dearly.)

Macdonald (whoever he is) gets it too:

Macdonald stared out of the window, and whatever he may have seen there, apart from the blank wall, prompted him to say, ‘I hate women. They are entirely destructive. They drain a man, sap him, take away all his good: and none the better for it themselves.’ After a pause, ‘Nasty, nasty queans.’

More of Stephen flirting with Jack:

‘Killick,’ he cried, folding and sealing it. ‘That’s for the post. Is the Doctor ready?’

‘Ready and waiting these fourteen minutes,’ said Stephen in a loud, sour voice. ‘What a wretched tedious slow hand you are with a pen, upon my soul. Scratch-scratch, gasp-gasp. You might have written the Iliad in half the time, and a commentary upon it too.’

I cannot emphasize enough that Jack is a dumbass. In his letter to Stephen:

This morning I was very much better, however, and in the Savoy chapel I said the finest thing in my life. The parson was playing a Handel fugue, the organ-boy deserted his post, and I said ‘it would be a pity to leave Handel up in the air, for want of wind‘ and blew for him. It was the wittiest thing! I did not smoke it entirely all at once, however, only after I had been pumping for some time; and then I could hardly keep from laughing aloud. It may be that post captains are a very witty set of men, and that I am coming to it.

He thinks he’s so funny.

And in another letter to Stephen, after having a heart-to-heart with Sophia (that Stephen totally arranged, unbeknownst to Jack):

‘I have the best part of a wife!! viz, her heart!!’ Stephen sniffed again. An intolerably tedious description of Miss Williams, whom Stephen knew a good deal better than Captain Aubrey — her appearance, virtues. ‘So direct — straightforward — nothing hole in the corner, if you understand me — no damned purser’s tricks — must not swear, however, — like a 32 lber.’ Could he really have likened Sophie to a thirty-two-pounder? It was quite possible.

Jack, you’re lucky that Stephen finds your dumbassery endearing. Then again, I do think it’s just slightly hypocritical for Stephen to judge Jack’s “likened Sophie to a thirty-two-pounder” when Stephen’s pick up line is “I can show you some great stoats.”
(They’re made for each other, is what I’m trying to say.)

So all in all, this one was fun. Frustrating and has way too many women in it, but fun.

But Jack said it best (and I thought this often, as part of “Get him on a fuckin’ boat!”):

‘I suppose it would be wicked to pray for war,’ said Jack, whose mind had followed exactly the same course. ‘But oh to be afloat.’

Yes, this man is a menace to everyone around him when he’s on land, give him endless wars and never let him off the ocean. For the sake of the reader, keep him on a damn boat.

Rating: 4 stars. I didn’t even mention all the times I giggled inappropriately at every mention of “fagged out” which was used very liberally.