I’ve been wanting to read a Robert Louis Stevenson novel since I noticed Kaggsy @ Bookish Ramblings marking Robert Louis Stevenson Day several years ago. (If you’ve missed her writing, here’s a recent glimpse of her 2023 post and 2024’s.) It’s actually celebrated on November 13th, but I’m posting a day in advance, to keep the chatter about The Blind Assassin on Thursdays this month for MARM.

My copy is an old Octopus Edition, which includes Treasure Island, Kidnapped, and The Black Arrow. It’s been unread on my shelf for decades, one of those books neglected because I knew the stories from films, plays, and comics. And because of the use of language, as it’s set in the middle of the 18th century. (At least, I remember the old-fashioned language being a Thing on earlier attempts.)

Treasure Island (1883) seemed to perfectly suit my mood this autumn, however: reading in the evenings, as the darkness approached earlier and earlier. The initial set-up, with the family running the Admiral Benbow Inn, the establishment where the old sailor takes a room and a stool for regular rum consumption, was giving Jamaica-Inn energy (I know, RLS was first!) and because I learned it had been published as a serial (1881-1882), that’s how I read it, just a chapter or two in a sitting.

With other versions of the story, I don’t remember the struggle to balance the demands of a problematic guest/tenant with a dark past, or the increased stress when Jim Hawkins’s father falls ill. I didn’t remember any waiting period, wherein The Captain was a feature, while he anticipated the arrival of other sea-faring individuals, seeking to secure their—or someone else’s—treasure. All that I remembered were the scenes from the island. (The Wikipedia page has all kinds of interesting information about the inspiration for the story, but take care to skip the summary to avoid spoilers.)

More than anything specific, I remembered Jim’s fear. And the need for him to act, despite his fear. Because it was originally published in installments, there are many suspenseful moments, designed to hold readers’ engagement. An early one, when Jim is still young and is hiding with his mother, focuses on how paralysed he is, by fear. As the story unfolds, there are other, even more diabolical events, which require that he act with courage.

By the time the action had shifted to the sea, and ultimately to the island, by the time there’d been a bloody and highest-stakes mutiny, even sitting down to read directly after dinner meant turning on the brightest lamp and dragging a shawl across my shoulders and a quilt over my knees. It was a good read, which made Stevenson a pile of gold too. I like to think that I’ll carry on with this volume, for the next couple Novembers.

What’s the last book you’ve read that eluded you for many years?