Pirates and Privateers
The History of Maritime
Piracy
Cindy Vallar, Editor
& Reviewer
P.O. Box 425,
Keller, TX 76244-0425
Books for
Adults ~ Historical Fiction: Pirates & Privateers
Silver
By Edward Chupack
St. Martin’s, 2008, hardback ISBN 978-0-312-37365-8, US
$23.95 / CAN $26.95
Paperback ISBN 978-0-312-53936-8, US $14.95 / CAN
$16.95
Murdering
always comes first. A person
should murder each day
before biscuits, as it
improves the disposition.
Aye, and a murder after
supper benefits the
digestion.
Those words sum up a most
despicable villain, a pirate with no
redeeming qualities, yet he fascinates us
and has ever since Robert Louis Stevenson
first introduced him to us. But who is
Long John Silver? Silver is his
tale “as written by me with a goodly
amount of murder.” It explores how he
accepts what fate dealt, living in
reality, while learning the ways of the
notorious rogues who prey on the seas.
Woven throughout the book is a mystery
tangled in history and secret codes, laced
with murder and treachery, and pitting
cunning against brawn. When the story
opens, Silver shares his life testament,
for he is dying – either from fever or the
hangman’s noose, whichever happens first.
He has solved the mystery and amassed a
hidden treasure craved by one person, the
man who intends to see him dance the
hempen jig.
Silver is not your typical novel,
for Edward Chupack turns the tables and
makes Long John Silver the protagonist,
when in actuality he is a villain, an
antagonist. Like Silver who never gives up
and hopes to escape no matter how dire the
circumstances, we are compelled to
continue the journey, unravel the mystery,
and understand what forces make Silver who
he is. How original is the tale? Does it
remain true to Stevenson’s characters? In
the author’s note, Chupack writes, “I
could not have written an original novel
had I incorporated large swaths of
Stevenson’s classic . . . I could also not
have satisfied the many, many lovers of Treasure
Island if I did not include
characters from that classic. I therefore
used some of the characters . . . changed
their dispositions, placed them in
different circumstances, and sent them on
a different quest.”
While reading this novel, I was
researching how a novelist crafts a
compelling and believable villain. The
investigation had nothing to do with
Chupack’s book; I did so for my column
“Red Pencil,” which appears in the
Historical Novel Society’s Solander
Magazine. The November 2008 editing
column examines John Shors’s Beside a
Burning Sea, and John and I decided
to show readers how the author creates a
villain the reader hates. This isn’t an
easy task, for the writer must avoid
making this character a stereotypical
antagonist. Chupack’s job is doubly
complex, for his villain is also the
“hero” of the novel. Long John Silver
isn’t a “knight in shining armor” –
Stevenson didn’t create him that way, and
a pirate, by definition, is not someone to
admire or emulate – but Chupack’s Silver
isn’t someone you hate. He is charismatic
and, as he unveils his origins, the
hardships of his youth, his journey into
piracy, his relationship with one woman,
and his love for his ship, our compassion
is fueled. We realize that though murderer
and pirate he may be, he is never as
ghastly as the actual villains that
populate his tale. There is always one who
is more ruthless and despicable than
Silver; at the same time, he never lets
you forget that “there is no other pirate
like me on these waters” and that “the
bottom of the sea is the right place for
me.”
Silver doesn’t sugarcoat or
romanticize pirates and what they do. This
isn’t a story that will satisfy your need
for a “happily ever after” ending. You
will rejoice in the fact that you chose a
more rewarding life; at the same time,
you’ll wonder “what if.” That’s what makes
this a fascinating and gripping voyage
that will haunt you long after you close
the cover. And isn’t that why you begin
reading it in the first place?
Review Copyright ©2008 Cindy Vallar
For those who venture over
to the other side of my website, the Thistle
side, youl know that historical
fiction plays a big role in my life.
Twice a year, I enjoy writing “Red
Pencil” because I not only get to read
a good historical novel, but I also
get to work with that book’s author to
showcase how he or she takes an early
draft of the work and turns it into
the polished version the public gets
to read. The November 2008
column focuses on how writers
create villains readers love to hate.
While working on the column, I
received the following from Ed
Chupack’s publicist. He, too, talks
about villains, how he came to write Silver,
and what he learned from readers’
reactions to the story. I think you’ll
enjoy reading his article.
The Man in the Starched White
Shirt
by Edward
Chupack
So there I was, riding my
usual train one day, in my starched white
shirt, reading the newspaper and looking out
the window, exceedingly happy, when I saw a
book that another passenger was reading. The
book was Sliver, but I misread the
title and believed that the book’s title was Silver,
and immediately envied the author that had
come up with the idea of writing the memoirs
of Long John Silver. Where could I buy that
book?
I couldn’t help but imagine
how I would have written the novel, the twists
that I would have brought to the tale, and how
I would have explored the concept of evil in
all its forms in my novel. When I looked at
the title of the book again, I discovered my
error and, that same night on the train ride
home, wrote the first words of the first
chapter in Silver.
Wait a minute. The
exploration of evil? I was happy. Wasn’t I?
Well, yes – and an optimist to boot. I loved
my job and had received promotion after
promotion. I was making good, although not
extravagant, money. My wife and I were no
longer ordering pizza as often as possible on
weekends to save money. We were no longer
watching television on the floor, but had a
couch, a Herculon couch from Sears no less. We
could spill on it with impunity. We were able
to go to the movies more often, buy the
occasional bottle of wine, had lots of
friends, and had started a family. We were
healthy. So why was I writing about evil?
The protagonist of my novel
was a pirate after all. I might have written
about a fun-loving swashbuckler just like the
ones in other books and in movies, but I was
driven to create a character that was the
embodiment of evil. Here’s why: I am a child
of a Holocaust survivor and that starched
white shirt could only protect me so much. My
mother never spoke of her experiences during
the war. I had studied the Holocaust, and
nobody, not a single teacher, book, or student
could give me a plausible answer why so many
people were captivated by such a cruel
dictator. I had to try to find out.
The Long John Silver that I
created is charismatic. He is strong, witty,
cunning, smart, and exceptionally likeable.
The reader is supposed to root for Silver, at
least for a time, at least until Solomon (a
Jewish character fleeing the Inquisition)
takes him on.
Imagine my surprise when I
discovered that almost all of my readers
really liked Silver, and a good many of them
disliked Solomon, a true hero. My readers
wanted Silver to succeed and Solomon to fail.
Worse, many of my readers identified with
Silver. They wanted to be as free as him, to
strike at their opponents with impunity. An
anti-hero by any other name is still a hero.
We admire villains. It is an
honest answer and all the more terrible for
it.
We are drawn to evil
characters, real and fictional ones, because
of a need that we have for them that is akin
to love: “Villain, you complete me.”
“I know that I do. Now just
take this gun and . . .”
And let’s face it: I am no
better. I wanted to write about evil to find
out an answer, but was also entrapped by my
character and reveled in his maliciousness.
So much has changed since I
started writing Silver on the train
many years ago. Both of my children are grown.
I remain blessed in so many ways. A number of
our friends have divorced. Some have passed
away. We have a wine collection, don’t worry
about spending too much for dinner, and have a
number of couches – leather ones that aren’t
more comfortable than our original couch but
match the rest of the furniture. Our health is
okay, although we’ve had our scares.
“Yes, villain. You complete
me.”
“Of course I do.”
How scary we all are, in our
starched white shirts, looking out windows and
smiling as the landscape rolls by us,
optimists, as if we did not know better, as if
we should not be looking over the next hill to
see if there is a figure there waiting for us
with open arms and a pistol.
Copyright
©2008 Edward Chupack
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