Review by Duncan Stearn
Before reading a book I usually take the time to read the cover and back cover blurbs, publishing information, bibliography, acknowledgements, skim through the index (if there is one) and generally try to obtain a 'feel' for what I'm about to read. In the case of For King & Country by Ian Quartermaine (almost certainly a pseudonym) I found a few niggling errors and therefore I began reading the 229-page book with less enthusiasm than I might otherwise have mustered. I must also confess to not being keen on historical novels (although The Falcon of Siam is a recent exception); I'd rather read the true history, it's usually far more intriguing and fascinating. Quartermaine's back blurb, for example, begins 'The fame of Britain's maritime power during the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries…' He then mentions the Spanish Armada (1588; 16th century), Sir Francis Drake (died 1596; 16th century) and Sir Walter Raleigh (beheaded 1618, but his most famous exploits took place in the 16th century). Maybe a little more thought needed to be put into that first sentence. It goes on to state, 'Great Britain's maritime might was purchased not only through the intellect and valour of the officer classes, but more predominately through the blood, sweat and tears of those below decks.' The back-page blurb concludes with a strange warning that the book: 'contains extremely explicit scenes of torture and the sexual abuse of a child. Do not purchase if you of a sensitive disposition or emanate from a sheltered personal background' A proof reader should at least have noted the word 'are' is missing as is the full stop at the end of the sentence. The back page notes a copyright 1985 and 2004, yet on the inside the copyright is 1993 and 2004. The bibliography is fairly lean, just 12 titles noted; the famous The Influence of Sea Power Upon History is attributed to Alfred Thayer Mahon; the correct spelling should be 'Mahan'. On the front cover the blurb claims the book 'details an existence far more brutal than… 'Captain and Commander', would usually have us believe.' The book being referred to is Patrick O'Brian's Master and Commander. The above may seem minor irritations, and I'll readily admit to being a pedant, but attention to minor details is what separates good writers from the run-of-the-mill. The narrative is impeded by asterisked footnotes designed to explain terms and phrases, particularly to those who aren't British. The vast majority, in the hands of a skilled writer, could have been subtly explained within the narrative. A few others are bordering on being an insult to the intelligence of all but the most retarded of readers. For example: 'Bill is an abbreviation of the name William.' (p. 25) Well, who would have thought it? Conversely, Pompey didn't require an explanation as far as Quartermaine was concerned. It's my understanding Pompey is the colloquial name for Portsmouth. Take this short sentence: 'You didn't give a damn when he said a big word 'cause he just done it for ducks. He wasn't puttin' on no dog.' Now, in the Ian Quartermaine style of novel writing there would be two asterisks, one after 'done it for ducks' and the second following 'puttin' on no dog'. That sentence comes from one of the great masterpieces of literature, The Grapes of Wrath, written by a brilliant prose stylist, John Steinbeck, a man who didn't feel the need to talk down to his audience and educate them in the finer points of slang and idiom by liberally spreading gratuitous footnotes throughout the narrative. It would have made far more sense in my opinion for Quartermaine to include a glossary of terms at the end of the novel. The premise behind the book is good; the execution fails to live up to the hyperbole on the back cover. In 229 pages there are no less than 78 chapters. In theory this should make for a page-turner. In practice you keep asking why it was constructed in this fashion. If he ever does a reprint, I would suggest amalgamating a number of chapters, especially those of just a page or two. The first chapter, entitled 'Flogged Round the Fleet' imparted some interesting information about the flogging ritual in the British Navy. He claims the British had its own lunatic asylums to take the many men who went crazy in the service of the crown. Quartermaine tells the reader this on page nine, and repeats it on page 39. The first chapter in fact continues for five. Why the author bothered to split it in such a fashion I can't guess. Why he chooses to render years as 'seventeen hundred and fifty nine' rather than '1759' also escapes me. The word 'young'un' is used a lot throughout the book but is rendered 'youngun'. The dialogue in some places is stilted and unrealistic. I seriously doubt an uneducated 18-year-old 18th century sailor would have used the word 'anaesthetise' in casual conversation with a 13-year-old compatriot. For all that, there are times when the information Quartermaine imparts sheds an interesting light on the workings of the lower decks of the British navy. For this reason I think the author would have been better served writing a genuinely factual insight into the below-decks Royal Navy in the age of sail, rather than attempting to do so via a novel. Rating: 2 out of 5 
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