Journal of a Voyage to Nowhere

Journal of a Voyage to Nowhere, by Charles Fenn (Norton, 194 pp., $5.95). Charles Fenn, a sixty-year-old British writer, set out from Ceylon for a weekend boat trip to the Maldive Islands. The voyage turned to horror after his friend drowned in a storm. Marooned on a remote Indian Ocean atoll, Fenn wrote to pass the time. Staying there for four months, planning his return, Fenn became a regular Robinson Crusoe. There are echoes, too, of other writers. Occasionally, Fenn comes close to a perfect description of nature—such as one finds in Thoreau’s Walden. At other times, when discussing terror and fear—such as the nausea produced by eating raw fish—one hears the tones of Rimbaud’s “Le Bateau Ivre.” Sandwiched in between the narrative passages are long sections of “philosophizing.” The man has an opinion about everything: art, time, sex, God, age, Americans, et cetera. For the most part, with the notable exception of a brilliant contrast between the practical Shaw and the artistic Proust, the opinions bored this reader. Nevertheless, Charles Fenn is a man Odysseus would have liked to talk with. They have much in common. While enduring terrible hardships, they displayed great ingenuity and returned home safely.

JM

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J. McKernan

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Journal of a Voyage to Nowhere, by Charles Fenn (Norton, 194 pp., $5.95). Charles Fenn, a sixty-year-old British writer, set out from Ceylon for a weekend boat trip to the Maldive Islands. The voyage turned to horror after his friend drowned in a storm. Marooned on a remote Indian Ocean atoll, Fenn wrote to pass the time. Staying there for four months, planning his return, Fenn became a regular Robinson Crusoe. There are echoes, too, of other writers. Occasionally, Fenn comes close to a perfect description of nature—such as one finds in Thoreau’s Walden. At other times, when discussing terror and fear—such as the nausea produced by eating raw fish—one hears the tones of Rimbaud’s “Le Bateau Ivre.” Sandwiched in between the narrative passages are long sections of “philosophizing.” The man has an opinion about everything: art, time, sex, God, age, Americans, et cetera. For the most part, with the notable exception of a brilliant contrast between the practical Shaw and the artistic Proust, the opinions bored this reader. Nevertheless, Charles Fenn is a man Odysseus would have liked to talk with. They have much in common. While enduring terrible hardships, they displayed great ingenuity and returned home safely.