The Adventures of John Carson in Several Quarters of the World
Have you ever wondered what creates myths? I used to think they just coalesced within the mists of time. Reading this book, I discovered a more powerful and more promising answer.
This layered novel is the story of Robert Louis Stevenson, who lived for a few months in a boarding house at 608 Bush Street in San Francisco during 1879-1880. While Stevenson struggles to write enough saleable material to maintain his frugal lifestyle, he listens each evening to wonderful tales told by his landlord, John Carson, whose wife, Mary, is the gifted provider of endless varieties of oyster stew.
And what marvelous, Conrad-esque, Melville-esque stories they are—of mountainous seas, superhuman and sub-human men, deserts, impenetrable forests and unscaleable rock faces. We are told of a hauntingly beautiful woman living in an apparently deserted stone village on the turbulent west coast of Ireland. Each tale is mythic in scale and imagination, yet each story is grounded in reality. It seems initially that each is a separate yarn, in one dimension complete in itself. Yet as the book nears its conclusion, the unity becomes apparent, and each tale is seen as part of one sweeping narrative.
Layered throughout the mythic tales of the Carsons, which carry the reader through stormy oceans and across vast continents, is the day-to-day story of Stevenson as he delights in his explorations of San Francisco and longs for the day he can marry his sweetheart.
I was engrossed in this multi-layered, expertly crafted book. I read it slowly, savoring every word. The writer’s vocabulary alone elicits appreciation. More importantly, the complexity of the novel and the unobtrusive research command respect. I was awed by the seeming ease of this compelling narrative. The simple happiness of the ending moved me to tears.
