Inland Voyage by Robert Lewis Stevenson
Classics Revisited: by Brand Frentz
Robert Lewis Stevenson is still famous today for books such as Kidnapped, Treasure Island, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. But his first book was The Inland Voyage, about a canoe trip. And although it is a travel book, not a book about canoeing, the canoeist who appreciates florid, dazzling writing will want to read this book. Or if you liked some of his other books, or some of his poems, you could try this for a different look at the celebrated writer.
The book is about his travels in Europe with a friend in 1876. They put their solo canoes in at Antwerp, Belgium, soon caught the Sambre River going south into France, then paddled to the Oise and went down it nearly to Paris. Much of the time they had to paddle in the canals that paralleled the rivers; the frequent locks (which they portaged) slowed them significantly. The trip was about 300 miles long and took several weeks. Stevenson does not describe their boats, and he did not like paddling in the rain, but he made it clear that canoe travel took them close to people and places and he enjoyed it very much.
He reports in detail about the places they visit and people they encounter, and he uses them to wander off into philosophical musings about life and human behavior. But his real interest is the writing, choosing the right words and using them well. Sometimes his lengthy, exuberant passages are a little tiresome; other times he succeeds brilliantly, giving early indications of the great writer he would become.
They did have some boating adventures too. Upon landing they usually drew a crowd of people who appeared never to have seen a canoe before. In Brussels, however, the crowd included a member of the Belgian Royal Nautical Society who knew more about canoes than Stevenson did. And he took them to the Society’s offices where everyone was thrilled to meet paddlers from England, which they considered to be the "homeland of canoes." As a sign of their respect, they said they would get one of their members, the European Paddling Champion, to travel with them the next day. Stevenson, who was no hotshot paddler, was so intimidated at this prospect that they sneaked away early in the morning to avoid embarrassment.
On the canalized Sambre in France they went along the edge of the Forest of Mormal. This sets off a full page of sweet description and praise of trees and forests ending with Stevenson’s wish to be buried under the forest and become part of it, "a thousand squirrels leaping from bough to bough in my vast mausoleum."
In the middle part of the trip, on the Sambre and then the Oise, they faced rain every day (unbelievably, Stevenson did not have a raincoat—his friend did; yes, they stayed in hotels at night—it was European-style canoe camping) and naturally the rivers rose. The weather cleared then, but the Oise had become "swollen with the long rains. From Vadencourt all the way to Origny, it ran with ever-quickening speed, taking fresh heart at each mile, and racing as though it already smelt the sea."
They made good time and were delighted with the warm sun, but there were some rough spots, rapids and worst of all, sweepers. Stevenson came whipping exultantly around a bend and saw a huge fallen tree in the water just ahead. He tried to duck, but didn’t make it. The tree trunk caught him at chest level, the boat was stripped from under him, and he was lucky to grab a branch of the tree. He barely managed, with great effort, to pull himself onto the trunk as the canoe disappeared downstream. The incident left him discouraged. He asked: "Would the wicked river drag me down by the heels, indeed? and look so beautiful all the time? Nature’s good humor was only skin-deep after all." On a lighter note, Stevenson reflected on the fact that through it all he kept his paddle: "On my tomb, if ever I have one, I mean to get these words inscribed: ‘He clung to his paddle.’"
In Origny they were a sensation. Stevenson particularly enjoyed the attention of three "handsome" teenage sisters who asked many questions, whispered and giggled, then discreetly disappeared. The next morning as they paddled away the sisters were part of a crowd that cheered them on from the local bridge. After they passed the sisters they ran along the bank after them, but with the swift current they could not keep up. Then "the foremost of the three leaped upon a tree-stump and kissed her hand to the canoeists....‘Come back again!’ she cried." Stevenson reflects on the beauty and grace of the moment, and on the fact that "There is no coming back, young ladies, on the impetuous stream of life."
I hope that you are getting the idea. This is a book full of memorable lines and images conceived by the author during a canoe trip. Robert Lewis Stevenson is known for striking aphorisms, and I could fill this a book with examples (most likely people already have). Let me close with one that seems a good summary of this book and its author: "After a good woman, and a good book, and tobacco, there is nothing so agreeable on earth as a river."
This book would be hard to find at Barnes & Noble, or even at a good used bookstore. But it is in the public domain and available on the Internet free at www.shuku.net/novels/english/inlandvoyage.html, and probably elsewhere too.
