Crusoe as King and Cretin: Novel Idea, Same Old Story

It is not difficult to imagine why Robinson Crusoe was well-received in the early eighteenth century, as it appealed to the masses of a particular mindset. While it offered something new to literature in its form as a novel which told the tale of a shipwrecked man in all his ingenuity of survival; it also served to perpetuate Christian/Protestant idealogy. Therefore, although the reader was allowed to"get inside" Crusoe's head thoroughout a myriad of long-winded spiritual ponderings (mostly as to whether to attack the cannibals or not, and questioning whether God had stranded him there as punishment for his sins), ultimately, the underlying message in the story serves to further promote the WASP as imperial lord/ruler over man and beast. Indeed, the evidence is clear as Crusoe's middle class sensibilty is soon virtually non-existent, as he deems himself king of the island and master to Friday and others: "My island was now peopled, and I thought myself very rich in subjects. And it was a merry reflection which I frequently made, how like a king I looked. First of all, the whole country was my own mere property; so that I had an undoubted right of dominion. Secondly, my people were perfectly subjugated; I was absolute lord and lawgiver" (p.234).

It is interesting to note that in spite of the lack of words flowery in description, the scenes in which the birds and animals are killed (especially the bear) are stomach-cringing and much more inhumane and violent than the depiction of the cannibals busy at their human feasts. The bear, as he is cruelly put to the chase and his eventual death for the sport of it, for the joke of it; it allows for the men " some laughs": "The bear was walking softly on, and offered to medddle with nobody.... Just before he [the bear] could set his foot on the ground, Friday stepped up close to him, clapped the muzzle of his piece to his ear, and shot him dead. Then the rogue turned about to see if we did not laugh; and when he saw we were pleased by our looks, he began to laugh very hard" (p.284-5).

I found the book tediously boring. In contrast to the tropical setting with all its lushness of nature, Devoe's language is anything but romantic; the words are too clinically precise and antiseptic. And as a result, the reader is unable to see the colors surrounding Crusoe, can't smell the flowers on the island, and doesn't taste the salt in the sea air. But the unnecessary attention paid to every minute detail of dismantling the ship, building the enclosures and planting and gathering the food is frustrating, and my brain was forced to painfully inch through it. The instruction manual feel to it helps to bring the reader even more outside of Crusoe's world, instead of reeling him/her in. And certainly, so much time spent on discussion of the mechanics of wind direction and ocean currents could be understood by and of interest to only seafarers.

Robinson Crusoe could have been a good novel for me if Devoe had done with a bit less Bible thumping (sincerely, with no offense meant), and spent more time ingesting, digesting and then refluxing in words man's inhumanity to man, as well as addressing man's abuse of nature and of its creatures therein. Aye, Crusoe triumphed over a thirty year exile from the human race (and the readers of that time loved it), but with all his Bible reading and great reflection, he never owned up to his culpability as perpetuator of imperialism in all its hateful grandeur. And the sad thing is; the readers, in ballyhooing this work, didn't think about it either.