Treasure Island

«Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17_ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof»

Perfect incipit for an adventure novel, able to introduce the whole story in a few lines and, at the same time, generate in the reader that tantalizing curiosity that invites you to read quickly the pages, thinking "let's settle down, you're going to see some things".

However, I confess that for me the novel by Robert Louis Stevenson, reread years later (this time is a bedtime reading for my daughter), has lost part of its appeal. Nevertheless, my daughter appreciated it, probably it's a novel that best suits the tastes of children and young people. In fact, Stevenson has never hidden that the inspiration to the novel came frome his adopted son, Lloyd, with whom in a rainy afternoon drew an island for fun, fantasizing with him on the places about the places map and on future characters. The novel that was taking shape for the 12-year-olds boy's amusement changed in a really fun adventure. Well, then let's all sing it together:

«Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!»

Vote: 7,5

«Sollecitato dal conte Trelawney, dal dottor Livesey e dal resto della brigata di scrivere la storia della nostra avventura all’Isola del Tesoro, con tutti i suoi particolari, nessun escluso, salvo la posizione dell’isola. e ciò perché una parte del tesoro ci è ancora nascosta, io prendo la penna nell’anno di grazia 17… e mi rifaccio al tempo in cui mio padre teneva la locanda dell’ “Ammiraglio Benbow” e il vecchio uomo di mare dal viso sfregiato da un colpo di sciabola prese per la prima volta alloggio presso di noi»

L'incipit è di quelli perfetti per un romanzo d'avventura, in grado di introdurre in poche righe tutta la vicenda e contemporaneamente generare nel lettore quella stuzzicante curiosità che invoglia a divorare le pagine. Per la serie "mettetevi a sedere che ora ne vedrete delle belle".

Confesso però che per me il romanzo di Robert Louis Stevenson, riletto a distanza di anni (lettura serale per mia figlia), ha perso un pò del suo fascino. Mia figlia ha comunque apprezzato, probabilmente è un romanzo che meglio si adatta ai gusti di bambini e ragazzi. D'altronde Stevenson non ha mai nascosto che l'ispirazione per il romanzo gliela ha data il figlio adottivo Lloyd, con il quale in un pomeriggio di pioggia disegnò per gioco un'isola, fantasticando assieme a lui sui luoghi della mappa e sui futuri personaggi. Il racconto che prendeva forma per il divertimento di un ragazzo dodicenne si è poi trasformato in una gran bella avventura. E allora cantiamo tutti insieme:

«Quindici uomini sulla cassa del morto,
yo-ho-ho, e una bottiglia di rum!»

Voto: 7,5

Now, if I can’t get away nohow, and they tip me the black spot, mind you, it’s my old sea-chest they’re after; you get on a horse – you can, can’t you? Well, then, you get on a horse, and go to – well, yes, I will! – to that eternal doctor swab, and tell him to pipe all hands – magistrates and sich – and he’ll lay ‘em aboard at the Admiral Benbow – all old Flint’s crew, man and boy, all on ‘em that’s left. I was first mate, I was, old Flint’s first mate, and I’m the on’y one as knows the place. He gave it me at Savannah, when he lay a-dying, like as if I was to now, you see. But you won’t peach unless they get the black spot on me, or unless you see that Black Dog again or a seafaring man with one leg, Jim – him above all.”

At the foot of a pretty big pine and involved in a green creeper, which had even partly lifted some of the smaller bones, a human skeleton lay, with a few shreds of clothing, on the ground. I believe a chill struck for a moment to every heart.
“He was a seaman,” said George Merry, who, bolder than the rest, had gone up close and was examining the rags of clothing. “Leastways, this is good sea-cloth.”
“Aye, aye,” said Silver; “like enough; you wouldn’t look to find a bishop here, I reckon. But what sort of a way is that for bones to lie? ‘Tain’t in natur’.”
Indeed, on a second glance, it seemed impossible to fancy that the body was in a natural position. But for some disarray (the work, perhaps, of the birds that had fed upon him or of the slow-growing creeper that had gradually enveloped his remains) the man lay perfectly straight—his feet pointing in one direction, his hands, raised above his head like a diver’s, pointing directly in the opposite.
“I’ve taken a notion into my old numbskull,” observed Silver. “Here’s the compass; there’s the tip-top p’int o’ Skeleton Island, stickin’ out like a tooth. Just take a bearing, will you, along the line of them bones.”

Heavy, miry ground and a matted, marish vegetation, greatly delayed our progress; but by little and little the hill began to steepen and become stony under foot. It was, indeed, a most pleasant portion of the island that we were now approaching. A heavy-scented broom and many flowering shrubs had almost taken the place of grass. Thickets of green nutmeg trees were dotted here and there with the red columns and the broad shadow of the pines; and the first mingled their spice with the aroma of the others. The air, besides, was fresh and stirring, and this, under the sheer sunbeams, was a wonderful refreshment of our senses. (p. 166)

TO THE HESITATING PURCHASER

If sailor tales to sailor tunes,
Storm and adventure, heat and cold,
If schooners, islands, and maroons,
And buccaneers, and buried gold,
And all the old romance, retold
Exactly in the ancient way,
Can please, as me they pleased of old,
The wiser youngsters of today:

—So be it, and fall on! If not,
If studious youth no longer crave,
His ancient appetites forgot,
Kingston, or Ballantyne the brave,
Or Cooper of the wood and wave:
So be it, also! And may I
And all my pirates share the grave
Where these and their creations lie!