The Wager (2023) By David Grann

"Was God seeing the things they did out here? Bulkeley still sought solace from The Christian’s Pattern, but a passage in it warned, 'Hadst thou a clear conscience, thou could not fear death. It were better to avoid sin than to flee death.' Yet was it a sin to want to live?"

If there's one way to peak my interest, it's by combining history, in this case of the maritime variety, and true crime. The case of HMS Wager was as infamous as it was sensational at the time that its harrowing odyssey took place, but it has since faded from the realms of common knowledge, with more recent tales, even of the maritime variety, taking precedence, such as that of Cook, Nelson, and more. It intrigued me greatly, therefore, to have the opportunity to read David Grann's retelling of one of history's most fascinating tales of disaster, survival, and death.

"Hunger is void of all compassion."

What struck me immediately, beyond the surreal horror of the fate of those aboard the Wager, was Grann's ability to create such visceral images of what the sailors went through during their torrid time. It felt, at times, like I was witnessing the terrible and unfortunate events as they unfolded, such was the effectiveness of Grann's storytelling and descriptions. For a history-based non-fiction book, this was extremely evocative, as it pertained to its writing style - I enjoyed it thoroughly.

"Yet they were compelled onward by that mysterious narcotic: hope."

I loved that Grann went to great lengths to not only detail the direct story of the Wager, but of its aftermath too. It was extremely all-encompassing and satisfying to read. I was not only impressed by detail of Grann's descriptions, but of his clear depth of knowledge, his range of sources and references, and the way in which he structured his book to not-only convey the information in as concise a way as possible, but to do so in an extremely compelling manner too. In every way, this was a deeply engaging read.

"The authors rarely depicted themselves or their companions as the agents of an imperialist system. They were consumed with their own daily struggles and ambitions - with working the ship, with gaining promotions and securing money for their families, and, ultimately, with survival. But it is precisely such unthinking complicity that allows empires to endure. Indeed, these imperial structures require it: thousands and thousands of ordinary people, innocent or not, serving - and even sacrificing themselves for - a system many of them rarely question."

Another thing this retelling does brilliantly is to dissect the often barbaric mentalities and behaviours of Western colonialist powers during, though not exclusively, the period within which the events of the book take place. Grann uses his novel to strikingly critique the colonialism and imperialism that set the back-drop for, and deeply influenced, the events that took place. A perfect example of this, is how Grann conveys the stark contrast between the arrogance and cruelty of the colonialist British sailors against the comparative humanity and kindness of the indigenous people whose actions were so instrumental in their survival.

"We all impose some coherence - some meaning - on the chaotic events of our existence. We rummage through the raw images of our memories, selecting, burnishing, erasing. We emerge as the heroes of our stories, allowing us to live with what we have done - or haven’t done."

I could talk about this book and how well-written it is all day - it really is that good, in my opinion. Through contemporary sources and cleverly conveyed information, Grann produces an extraordinary and engrossing piece of literature, which intelligently and entertainingly informs and engages its readers with its truly rich wealth of material. Grann truly provides audiences with an accessible and excellently-curated account of one of history's most staggering and notorious maritime disasters - a must-read for history-buffs.

"Empires preserve their power with the stories that they tell, but just as critical are the stories they don’t - the dark silences they impose, the pages they tear out."