This Thing of Darkness

Robert Fitzroy, Captain of HMS Beagle. Photo wikipedia.

The maverick TV producer and author Harry Thompson died on 7 November, 2005 of lung cancer. The following day my mother died of the same illness. When I read about his death I went out and bought a copy of This Thing of Darkness, his debut novel which was longlisted for the Booker. It has sat patiently on my bookshelf waiting to be read – even accompanying me on three holidays – yet I’ve never got around to delving into the 729 pages detailing Charles Darwin’s five year voyage on HMS Beagle. So I decided to select it as my September book group choice and finally finished it on 17 September 2013, the day my father died of lung cancer.

I mention this strange symmetry as the real hero of the novel is Captain Robert Fitzroy, a man – who in the true spirit of the industrial revolution – saw the world as one large machine with God as chief foreman, dictating proceedings. Through this mode of thinking, Fitzroy believed that all life could be understood and various patterns predicted. He demonstrated this, quite literarily, through his navigational charts of Patagonia, Chile, the Falklands and Tierra del Fuego, which were so precise they were only updated recently through aerial photography.

Fitzroy realised that you could predict storms and general weather forecasting by locating air currents from the poles and the tropics before they collide. This was nothing short of revolutionary, and would go on to save millions of lives. Yet he still saw this rationalising of weather as part of God’s plan, as part of a system: “If God created this world to a purpose, would HE have left the winds and currents to chance? What if the weather is actually a gigantic machine created by God? What if the whole of creation is ordered and comprehensible? What if we could analyse how His machine works and foretell its every move? No one need ever die in a storm again.”

The American edition was renamed: To the Edge of The World

The American edition was renamed: To the Edge of The World.

There was one problem with his theory. It wasn’t profitable for fishermen to be sat on dry land and so the science of meteorology was ridiculed by businessmen able to exert political pressure. His storm warning programme for Britain, manned by three people, was eventually scrapped. It wouldn’t be the only ‘failure’ during his lifetime resulting from principles that clashed with profit.

Fitzroy was a Christian Tory who did not buy into the chivalric fantasy of imperialism. On his journey to Patagonia (Argentina), he brought back four Indians to England to be educated. His belief that Black and White people were equal was as radical as Darwin’s theory of evolution. Yet in his lifetime he was mocked for suggesting something so absurd. Equality did not bode well with Britain’s colonial involvement in these far flung territories as it made it more difficult to exterminate tribes and rob the ‘other’ of their land. Indeed, when it came to backing a genocidal campaign against the natives of New Zealand, George Grey, Fitzroy’s successor, was given twice his salary, triple his operating budget and a large force of troops. Fitzroy’s desire to spread the word of God would be ruthlessly manipulated by his successor who would eventually attack the Maori on a Sunday, when most of the recently converted natives would be showing their respects in church.

Fitzroy was bankrupt at the time of his death having spent his entire personal fortune subsidizing the public purse for what was ultimately the benefit of others. He and Darwin would both document their adventure on the Beagle but it would be the latter who would take the glory. Vice-Admiral Fitzroy would tragically take his own life in 1865. The loss of prestige and the death of his wife, along with his manic depression, would have contributed to his perception that he was a failure. He was nothing of the sort.

Overall I really enjoyed this book because it gave an insight into a part of history I knew very little about although I think it could have been split into two books. It’s thoroughly researched and a very easy read although it felt a bit like one of those BBC documentaries where all of the characters speak directly from diaries or first- hand accounts. This is very different, to say, David Mitchell’s The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet, whereby you can smell history without having it pointed out.

This Thing of Darkness is about one of the most remarkable journeys in living history. It captures the moment when science and religion properly clashed heads and the incredible careers of the crew aboard this relatively modest brig. But it will now signify the end of both of my parent’s journeys from an illness, like the authors, which cannot be predicted (unlike my parents, Harry Thompson never smoked) and is yet to be mapped out.

If you want to continue your nautical adventures then visit Aquatopia at the Nottingham Contemporary which runs until 22 September (check out the tentacle porn…) or follow @CDarwin and @Captain_FitzRoy on Twitter.

This Thing of Darkness is available from Headline Review for £8.99

Michael Eaton: Streets of Stories

Mick E under Council House IMG_0151

Photo: Graham Lester George

If you’re thinking of embarking on a journalism career to make money, forget it. If you like meeting interesting people, then this is the profession for you. Example. As part of the Festival of Words I did a literary walk around Nottingham with Michael Eaton. We agreed to make it a donation event so that anybody could join in. Our motivation was to share our love of the local literature scene in the hope that people would feel better about their city now that they could point out where Graham Greene once worked as a sub editor. We collected £30 in donations at the end of the two hour trot which went towards a round that came to £27.50. I was amazed that I had £2.50 left over which we could split. Then the Irish coffee turned up for one of our guests and I’d forgot to tell the barman she was allergic to milk. Another was ordered costing £3.75, meaning I was £1.25 down. I didn’t ask Michael for his 62p. As far as literature events go this was a more than reasonable loss. 

 

Photo: Graham Lester George

Photo: Graham Lester George

What I got out of the walk was the opportunity to spend two hours with Michael Eaton. Michael has a remarkable memory, having researched much of the city and its characters for his plays. An anthropologist at heart he’s fascinated by people. His motivation for writing about Harold Shipman was that they shared similar backgrounds yet had chosen such differing paths. He loves his documents as well, bringing an immaculate copy of William Booth’s In Darkest England along for the journey which he proudly informs was passed down from his grandfather.

Photo: Graham Lester George

Photo: Graham Lester George

Michael is a Dickensian character, large of frame and eccentric in character. He informs that Philip James Bailey’s Festus is the longest poem ever published with more words in it than the Old Testament. He throws his head back for dramatic effect, nearly nutting the person behind him. When this fails to receive a gasp he lowers his head forwards as if the knowledge is weighing him down. Then he bursts into life again, contorting his neck sideways, catching the eye of the woman to his left who he stares at intently until he gets the reaction he believes such facts deserve. Before you can roll a tab he’s singing Billy Merson songs and insisting you join in, jumping around with an ease that is unbefitting of a man his size. And then he’ll turn to the nearest person and take their hand, holding it softly as he imparts more information. You feel slightly embarrassed to be stood in public holding an older man’s hand. And then calm. Like you’ve just been whisked back to childhood and are waiting with a parent for the bus.

Photo: Graham Lester George

Photo: Graham Lester George

Our second festival walk on Wednesday saw 35 people turn up in the freezing cold. I couldn’t believe it. It was a magical walk with punters sharing their own interpretations of folklore as we went along, filling the streets with more stories. I wasn’t surprised at how many were oblivious to the plaques scattered around the city and our rich literary heritage. Nottingham has never been very good at standing up for itself, preferring to concentrate energies on taking others to task. That’s why we decided to do the walk. So that Nottingham could see something else lurking between Primark and the latest Tesco Express.

Byron expert Christy Fearn joined us on the walk. Photo: Graham Lester George

Byron expert Christy Fearn joined us on the walk. Photo: Graham Lester George

As promised, here’s a suggested reading list for some of the walk.

Langtry’s Emrys Bryson (1982) Portrait of Nottingham
Theatre Royal Billy Merson (1949) The Spaniard that blighted my life
Express Offices Norman Sherry (1989) The Life of Graham Greene Vol 1. 1904 – 1939
Cloughie statue David Peace (2007) The Damned United
Market Square James Walker (2012) Sillitoe Trail and Ann Featherstone (2007) The Journals of Sydney Race, 1892-1900.
Exchange Building Henry Kirke White (1803) Clifton Grove, a Sketch in Verse, with other Poems
Pelham Street J M Barrie (1911) Peter and Wendy (later changed to Peter Pan)
Pelham Street/Carlton Street Lord Byron (1812) Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage
George Street Claire Tomalin (2012) Charles Dickens: A life
Broadway Cinema Nicola Monaghan (2007) The Killing Jar and William Booth (1890) In Darkest England and the Way Out
Stoney Street Jon McGregor (2003) If nobody speaks of remarkable things
St. Mary’s Church (1450) Robin Hood and the Monk
Weekday Cross Mary Howitt (1829) The Spider and the Fly
Middle Pavement Philip James Bailey (1839) Festus