I read the anarchist Leftist writer
B. Traven when I was a romantic, idealistic teenager, led to his classic Treasure of the Sierra Madre by its more
famous screen adaptation. From there, I read a half dozen or so of his novels.
I recall that I liked some (The Bridge in
the Jungle, The Rebellion of the Hanged, Government) more than others (The Caretta). Then,
like most of my youthful passions, my interest rolled off yonder, like a passing
wave on fiction’s great teeming sea, while yet another wave approached.
What I would think
of those books now as a more jaded, ideologically disinclined adult, I don’t
know. But now that a mmmmm few
decades have passed, I've opened Traven once more, this time for pragmatic
purposes: research for a work in progress. The book in question is his first
novel, The Death Ship, first
published in Germany in 1926-1927.
The Death Ship is narrated by the drifting
Everyman from other Traven novels. His given name might be Gerard Gales, but
being a B. Traven Everyman, his identity is slippery, amorphous. He’s more compassionate
observer of the downtrodden than a participant in their dramas. In The Death Ship, Gales is more at the
center of things, a merchant seamen who becomes stranded at a European port
after losing his identity card and papers.
With nothing to
prove his existence to government authorities but his own honest word, Gales
finds himself shunted from bureaucracy to bureaucracy, back and forth across
European borders, dealing with a variety of bureaucrats and border guards, some
them sympathetic and kindly, some of whom are not. But all of them are just
doing their jobs. Gales, who does exist becomes a stateless person—an absurdly
non-existent “non-person.”
This section,
which takes up about the first third of the novel, is much the best. Traven,
with Gales as his front man, nimbly takes us back and forth and around the
ports of Europe in a tart satire of governmental oppression as seen in the
1920s. He’s a buoyant clear-eyed anarchist-satirist, frustrated and adrift in
what was then new world bristling with new rules and new regulations that grew like
weed-like out of the Industrial Revolution, the end of World War I and the
growing interdependence of nations. (Not all that long ago, most people did not
need passports to cross borders. “Your papers please!” that jokey cliché from corny old movies set in dictatorships, is a now a universal command.)
Many of Traven’s
observations are funny: “Always consider your boss crazy and you will always be
right and stand in good with him.” Others might raise an eyebrow, including a staunch
assertion that the French much preferred their German occupiers to the
Americans Doughboys during the Great War—a statement that could use some
checking, especially since Traven himself was likely a German. Maybe a little
bias there.
But then finally,
Gales stumbles as coal stoker aboard The
Yorikke, the “death ship” a decaying tramp steamer so decrepit and leaky,
it’s a miracle it still floats. Here, Traven’s story starts chugging in circles
and zigzagging about. It never finds its keel. From the start, you can tell
English is not the author’s first language, but his storytelling skill in the
first section overrides this concern. Not so later on, as the novel becomes a
frantic jumble, a disorganized and tedious read. It hops and skitters
arbitrarily from scene to scene and subject to subject, burdened by poor
writing and awful dialogue, as the author tries to embrace every idea and theme
possible. There’s telling and gruesome detail galore, but the editor/
translator appears to have signed off by then. Traven is not even unable to
stick with his central metaphor and the novel finally, quite literally, crashes
on a reef.
Oh, well. We all
gotta start somewhere. And then go on from there. And B. Traven sure did,
becoming internationally popular and renowned (though less so in this country
due to his Leftie Anarchism.)
He may also well
be the most successfully reclusive Famous Author who ever lived. To this day,
his actual identity, his very life, remains a mystery beyond the reach of the
most redoubtable literary sleuth. He covered his tracks exceptionally well. Next to B. Traven, Thomas Pynchon, J.D.
Salinger and Harper Lee look like a trio of craven exhibitionists. Bravo for Traven!
Copyright 2015 by
Thomas Burchfield
Photo by author
Thomas Burchfield’s latest novel is Butchertown, a ripping, 1920s gangster shoot-‘em-up that will appear in Spring 2015, via Ambler House Publishing. He is also the author of the contemporary Dracula novel Dragon's Ark, winner of the IPPY, NIEA, and Halloween Book festival awards for horror in 2012. He’s also author of the original screenplays Whackers and The Uglies (e-book editions only). Published by Ambler House Publishing, those three are available at Amazon in various editions. You can also find his work at Barnes and Noble, Powell's Books, and Scribed. He also “friends” on Facebook, tweets on Twitter, reads at Goodreads and drinks at various bars around the East Bay. You can also join his e-mail list via tbdeluxe [at] sbcglobal [dot] net. He lives in Northern California with his wife, Elizabeth.
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