In Hazard

by Richard Hughes, John Crowley (Introduction)

The Archimedes is a modern merchant steamship in tip-top condition, and in the summer of 1929 it has been picking up goods along the eastern seaboard of the United States before making a run to China. A little overloaded, perhaps—the oddly assorted cargo includes piles of old newspapers and heaps of tobacco—the ship departs for the Panama Canal from Norfolk, Virginia, on a beautiful autumn day. Before long, the weather turns unexpectedly rough—rougher in fact than even the most experienced members of the crew have ever encountered. The Archimedes, it turns out, has been swept up in the vortex of an immense hurricane, and for the next four days it will be battered and mauled by wind and waves as it is driven wildly off course. Caught in an unremitting struggle for survival, both the crew and the ship will be tested as never before.

Based on detailed research into an actual event, Richard Hughes’s tale of high suspense on the high seas is an extraordinary story of men under pressure and the unexpected ways they prove their mettle—or crack. Yet the originality, art, and greatness of In Hazard stem from something else: Hughes’s eerie fascination with the hurricane itself, the inhuman force around which this wrenching tale of humanity at its limits revolves. Hughes channels the furies of sea and sky into a piece of writing that is both apocalyptic and analytic. In Hazard is an unforgettable, defining work of modern adventure.

Genres: Fiction, Adventure, Classics, Historical Fiction, British Literature, Nautical, Literary Fiction

264 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1938

About the author

Richard Arthur Warren Hughes OBE was a British writer of poems, short stories, novels and plays.

Several other authors on Goodreads are also named Richard Hughes.

Reviews

[David · Rating 3 out of 5]

Among countless other things—both real and imaginary—I'm afraid of water. Not drinking water, of course, but the roiling seas whose power and caprice spell certain doom for the likes of me. Because (of course) I can't swim. Complementing this missing skill set, I lack any effectiveness in crisis situations, so my chances of successfully floating until the sharks ate me are (in the most generous of terms) laughable. My inability to swim was primarily informed by a perplexity at why anyone would even want to, recreationally speaking. Near-nudity in what amounts to a communal bath tub doesn't exactly appeal to my demographic. The demographic of one.

Richard Hughes' seafaring adventure In Hazard clearly benefits from my fear of water. Certain parts of it—where the protagonist ship the Archimedes is tossed hither and thither in the eyeteeth of a monstrous hurricane—are suspenseful and utterly gripping. Hughes has a talent for transmitting a breathless sense of real peril to his readers. On more than a few occasions, I actually lost myself in the adventure of it—which is remarkable for me because when I am reading a book I am also usually thinking about myself reading a book. There is very little direct access to experience for me; it's generally mediated by a self-awareness which deflects some of the impact.

But... (With a three-star rating, you knew there'd be a 'but' ambling along shortly.) Other parts of In Hazard are just really boring and uneven. Let me explain. This may surprise many of you who know me, but I am not a steam ship captain of the 1930s. I'm often mistaken for one on the street, in my jaunty sailor's cap, my striped shirt, and my careless stubble, but it's true: I can not actually pilot a seaworthy vessel. Shocking, I know. Richard Hughes, however—owing to some sort of epic misunderstanding of Three's Company proportions—seems to believe I'm well-versed in the nomenclature and mechanics of steam ship travel. In the first half of the book in particular, he speaks casually about all kinds of gadgets and whatchamacallits that keep a ship running and presupposes of his readers a working knowledge of their general operation. Yeah, good luck with that one, Dick Hughes.

So in essence, this is how passages of the book read to your average layman:

Seeing that the overhead bearing platform had come loose from the whinny rig, Henry clamped the number eight finglestick to the precariously unmoored cumble rack, which was dripping oil from the reclamation spout on its leeward side. In a panic, Captain Bieber mounted the aft reversible humperdinck valve to the mainstay colander support and shouted, 'You better turn the kardashian valve forty-five degrees toward the summer salad duodenum or we'll lose all of our stippled cobblerspeck, goddamnit!'

But that's not the only problem. In the second half of the book Hughes devotes a wildly disproportionate number of pages to the backstory of one of the Chinese crew members who has never been mentioned before. It's odd and extremely conspicuous because it really goes nowhere and seems to have been inserted into the novel for no apparent reason. I'm not saying it isn't (sort of) interesting, but why is it here? And where was the editor—the voice of reason to say, 'Hey, Dick, love what you've done with this, but it's like you've eaten three or four different meals here and puked them up into the same toilet bowl.' I mean, he could be more diplomatic about it, but constructive criticism was warranted.

[Berengaria · Rating 3 out of 5]

a low 3 stars
(English title: In Hazard)

short review for busy readers: An odd little novel about a ship in peril. Metaphoric and tangible at the same time. Hard to categorise, but will probably appeal to readers who like travel or disaster stories. Because "worse things happen at sea, you know".

in detail:
Written in the first half of the 20th century - when writers aimed to craft well-constructed, metaphoric novels that were conscious of themselves as works of art vs being works of superficial entertainment, "In Hazard" tells the realistic story of a stream ship's week long fight through a double hurricane in the Caribbean.

Or it's a metaphor for the unforeseen, terrible trials of life that can leave a person broken, or pass them over largely unscathed. One never knows until the storm ends.

Or it's a discussion of the different ages of life and how a events can be met with totally different mentalities depending on one's age, rank and opinion of the world.

Or it's an illustration of world politics and Western vs Asian culture, in that the officers are entirely white Englishmen and the crew are Chinese. Both are heavily suspicious of each other based on their own cultural preferences, and interpret even the hurricane in two totally different ways. What's reality, then?

Or it's all of that, plus a lot about steam ship sailing and machinery for the reading pleasure of men with the hearts of little boys.

In any case, it's not a smooth, continuous read, but hops about all over the place with a fatherly omniscient narrator first visiting this idea, then that one, then that one over there. (I adore omniscient, so this was a plus not a minus for me.)

While I can't say I enjoyed the novel very much nor found it terribly gripping (as it was clearly meant to be), I can certainly appreciate the skill with which it was constructed, as well as the dexterity and quality of the writing, which is applaudably high.

[Justin Evans · Rating 5 out of 5]

Considering it starts out like the technical chapters of Moby Dick, without bothering to tell you what any of the technical terms being used actually mean, this is one kick ass book. Hughes somehow manages to move from "here's how a steam boat's engine creates steam" to one of the better symbolic tales I've read. A few things to keep in mind, though, if you're thinking about reading it. The opening chapters really are boring, albeit boring with a purpose. So just know that. Also, it is so far from being a 'man vs nature' narrative that the only reason I can think for so many people to put it in that pigeon-hole is that they're uncomfortable with the fact that, really, man's biggest enemy is himself. Although the middle sections read like an adventure tale, the meat of the book is the stories of the crew, and what they've already been through before they get into this mess.
Also, a few reviewers complain that the book is racist. Here's a crash course on 'reading like a professor': just because a character says or thinks racist things doesn't mean the book is racist. In fact, the book goes to great, humorous lengths to show the stupidity of people making assumptions about others based on their race. But hey. It's much easier to quote some dipshit character than to read with any sort of care.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Richard Hughes is a wise man and perhaps a mystic. Thank God for the British who consistently produce such masters. The challenge: crew and captain vs. a double hurricane. Business, sports and military leaders could draw lessons on command from this novel.

[Eric_W · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is based on the true story of the Phemius, a ship which was sucked into the circular trajectory of a hurricane in 1932. The captain’s report of the experience so intrigued the Holt Line owner that he gave a copy to Richard Hughes (A High Wind in Jamaica) who turned it into this novel.

The ship was the well-cared-for Archimedes with a very competent captain and crew. The month being mid-November, the likelihood of a West Indian hurricane was more than remote, it was unheard of. The cargo was the usual motley of items including quantities of newspaper, which, because of their lightness, were stored fairly high in the hold. The barometer continues to drop precipitously and thinking he is sailing around the storm, Captain Edwardes finds himself in its clutches, perhaps from a twin since this storm doesn’t seem to be following the rules. Dick, the cabin boy, at first mesmerized by the fur of the wind, is in its thrall. “Then the exultation which the storm had raised in him whirled up in his head giddily, and he was sea-sick.”

At first the ship seems to be riding the waves with equanimity until a coir matting becomes lodged in the steering rods and steerage is lost leaving the ship to wallow broadside into the waves. To make matters worse, hatches, which are designed to withstand enormous pressure from above, were now subject to tremendously strong winds blowing across the deck, and, much as with an airplane’s wing, generated lift and creating a vacuum across the top of the hatches pushing them up from below.

It goes without saying (but I will anyway) readers disinclined to enjoy nautical books will not like this book. Tant pis pour toi. The rest of us will love it.

A picture of the Phemius at http://www.uboat.net/allies/merchants... that gives you a good idea of the superstructure and funnel which was lost in the 1932 hurricane. (The one described in the book took place fictionally in November 1929.)

Read the introduction by John Crowley to the NYRB edition. In it, he quotes Ford Maddox Ford as describing Hughes writing as so good as to be almost inhuman. “It’s hard … not to wonder whether Hughes ever made clear to himself the distinction between all-knowing divinity and pitiless chance.” Indeed.

[Korynn · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was inspired to seek out this volume after reading the collected columns of Alec Guinness regarding his "retired" life. He said he enjoyed it highly and had re-read it and so I was curious.The library copy I found had a cover that was vaguely reminiscent of high school English. I have a strong feeling that somewhere in the world children are required to write papers on this book. It's a strange book, starting out by listing all the factual attributes of the ship, its engagement with a mysterious storm, the horror of being caught several days literally trapped IN a hurricane detailed day by day and then dropping the outside manner to go inside many of men on the ship. There is also a strange shift from a racial perspective, before the Chinese seamen are referred to as something equivalent to animals, but in the more intimate histories the readers are treated with the pasts of a few of the Asian men. We get histories on several characters on the ship from past to curious present and it reminds me terribly of "Moby Dick" excepting that "Moby Dick" introduced its characters in this manner. All the character wander about with their motivations for the reader to see and then the storm ends, the final fight to preserve the ship occurs and there is a strange feeling, not of relief but of impending doom (perhaps like "Bel Canto" in which the characters spent so long under siege they forgot what life was like before) as the ship is brought to shore. The characters are irrevocably changed by the event...perhaps like soldiers shattered by events larger than them, that they had no power to change, but now remember that strength, that fear, that hopelessness forever.

[Thomas Jr. · Rating 5 out of 5]

A short but excellent novel by a sadly under-read Welsh author, "In Hazard" owes something to Joseph Conrad's "Typhoon" but comes at the storm and story with a curious blend of scientific realism and humane whimsy. I have rarely read an author who is less predictable in how long he will keep a character alive. The result is a literary world in which, truly, anything can happen to anybody. At the same time, the characters are developed with a loving depth and sympathy. Hughes wrote only four novels. He should have written more.

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

Der Hurrikan, der im November 1932 vor Kuba wütete, war der stärkste tropische Zyklon und der einzige der Kategorie 5, der je im November stattfand. Mit über 3000 Todesopfern war er einer der tödlichsten Hurrikane des 20. Jahrhunderts.
Das Dampfschiff S.S. Phemius geriet in diesen Sturm, der sich mit über 320 km/h bewegte. Der Bericht dieses Unglücks, dass die Besatzung wie durch ein Wunder überlebte, wurde später Richard Hughes von der Reederei vorgelegt, der auf dieser Grundlage „In Bedrängnis“ schrieb.
http://www.google.de/imgres?q=s.s.+ph...
Die Archimedes, so heißt das Schiff im Roman, ist ein modernes Dampfschiff, das jedem Unwetter trotzen kann, davon ist der Kapitän Edwardes überzeugt. Daher bereitet es ihm augenscheinlich fast Freude, als das Wetter umschlägt und starker Wind aufkommt. Denn mit einem Hurrikan ist um diese Jahreszeit nicht zu rechnen.
„Die Tage von Conrads Taifun sind vorbei; jene Tage, wo Hurrikane den Schiffsverkehr so unerwartet überfielen wie die Katze die Maus. Zum einen wissen die Mäuse heute mehr über die Anatomie der Katze und ihre Bewegungsmuster – und außerdem hat man der Katze ein Glöckchen umgehängt.“
Und außerdem: „Heutzutage hört man, dass ein Hurrikan meist bei ortsfesten Dingen wie zum Beispiel Bananenstauden Schäden hinterlassen hat, nicht aber beim Schiffsverkehr. Schiffe (da beweglich) sind in diesen geographischen Breiten weniger gefährdet als Regierungsstellen (da unbeweglich).“
Zu Beginn des ersten Teils herrscht noch ein heiter gelassener Tonfall, Hughes führt die Figuren ein und lässt mit viel Witz und Geist Beobachtungen und Bemerkungen einfließen, wie der Leser es schon aus „Sturmwind aus Jamaica“, seinem ersten Roman kennt.
Aber aus dem Sturm wird überraschend ein Hurrikan, und schon bald zeigt sich, dass die Archimedes trotz ihrer Widerstandsfähigkeit und trotz der qualifizierten Mannschaft zum Spielball der Naturgewalt wird und sich alles auf die Frage reduziert, ob die Mannschaft überleben wird.
Es gelingt Hughes, die unvorstellbare Gewalt des Hurrikans so zu beschreiben, dass der Leser sich an Bord der Archimedes versetzt fühlt und Teil hat am Überlebenskampf der Mannschaft.
Als die Archimedes im Auge des Hurrikans ankommt, kann zum ersten Mal seit Sturmbeginn eine Bestandsaufnahme gemacht werden:
„Zum ersten Mal, seit dem Höhepunkt des Sturms, konnten sie das Schiff vom Heck bis zum Bug überblicken. Zum ersten Mal sahen sie den gähnenden Krater, den der Fuß des Schonrsteins hinterlassen hatte. Zerschmetterte Ladebäume, verbogene Stage. Das Ruderhaus glich einem zertrümmerten Wintergarten. Dazu die Schlagseite. Anfangs hatten sie sie noch wahrgenommen, als sie sich dann allmählich daran gewöhnten, dachten sie kaum mehr daran; aber jetzt sah man den Horizont seitlich weggekippt daliegen, den Ozean steil aufgerichtet wie eine Wand, als wolle er sich über den Rand der Welt ergießen, so steil, dass er sich über der Leereling aufzutürmen schien. Das Meer wimmelte von Haien, die einen auf Augenhöhe anglotzten, man konnte fast meinen, sie starrten auf einen herunter. Es schien, als könnten sie jeden Augenblick die steile grüne Wasserwand aufs Deck herabgleiten, direkt auf einen zu. Sie warteten offensichtlich auf etwas, und zwar voller Ungeduld.“
Inzwischen ist das Schiff vollkommen manövrierunfähig und dem Leser schwindet in dieser klaustrophobischen Atmosphäre jede Hoffnung fürs Überleben der Mannschaft.
Ohne zu psychologisieren beschreibt Hughes, was in den Köpfen und Herzen der Besatzung vorgegangen sein mag und schildert anschaulich die verschiedenen Phasen des Überganges in die totale körperliche Erschöpfung und Hoffnungslosigkeit. In dieser unvorstellbar extremen Situation zeigt jeder einzelne, was in ihm steckt. Der Leser fiebert nun mit, ob im zweiten Teil des Romans das Schiff aus dem Auge des Hurrikans herauskommen wird.
Als Leser, der ansonsten an maritimen Themen nicht besonders interessiert ist, habe ich Hughes schmalen Roman doch in einem Stück verschlungen und hatte dabei das Gefühl, vom Hurrikan genauso eingesogen und durchgeschüttelt zu werden, wie die Besatzung der Archimedes.
Als sehr gelungen habe ich auch die neue Übersetzung von Michael Walter empfunden, die der Dörlemann Verlag vorgelegt hat. Der unverwechselbare Ton, der Richard Hughes eigen ist, wird hier nach meiner Einschätzung sehr schön erhalten und liest sich sehr gut.

[Zuberino · Rating 4 out of 5]

Richard Hughes is known today (if he is known at all) for his first novel A High Wind in Jamaica. If his second novel is anything to go by, it should be a work of rare class. Hughes wrote In Hazard in the doldrums between the two world wars, those years of curious suspension between epochal cataclysms. The story is simple: the steamship Archimedes sails south from Norfolk, VA and unwittingly falls into the path of an unseasonal storm of nightmarish violence. After many days of non-stop danger and toil, the ship emerges from the hurricane, grievously damaged but still proud and unsunk. A rescue ship arrives and tows it to the safety of Belize.

That's the story. That's all of it. A slim book, maybe even a slight book at first glance. But boy, can looks be deceptive! In Hazard is a book that lulls you at first with its smooth prose before pitching you headlong into 120-odd pages of the most elemental fury. You may well wonder how the writer is able to sustain the narration of one single natural event over such a span, how he can maintain such a high pitch without sacrificing quality? But sustain it he does, by some miracle, without even once letting you go.

Hughes deploys exceptional powers of description in the service of a nautical tale that is gripping and harrowing in turn. Simon Schama called the book a "masterpiece of lyric terror" - as pithy a tag as any - and favourable comparisons have been made with Conrad himself. Several times during the hurricane, I was marvelling not just at the writer's skill but also his ambition. It is almost as if Hughes took it upon himself as a challenge: how to take a singular natural phenomenon and describe it as lucidly, faithfully and forcefully as you possibly can. Needless to say, he succeeded in his self-appointed challenge; as a spirited exercise in style, the book passes with flying colours.

*

As much a descriptive tour de force, In Hazard is also a sort of paean to man's willpower, his courage and strength in the teeth of the most colossal adversity. I suppose you only get to test your mettle to the max in a few extremes of experience - war, exploration, adventure. A Category 5 hurricane in the Caribbean certainly counts as one of those extremes.

Hughes pays particular attention to two characters of similar age: the English lad Dick Watchett and the absconding Chinese revolutionary Ao Ling. The spiritual/intellectual evolution of both is traced carefully, but for some reason, Ao Ling's transition from impoverished childhood in provincial China to restless radical in her great cities really stuck with me. Alongside the descriptions of frenzied nature, this was my favorite passage of the book. (Caveat: some of the attitudes may strike the 21st-century reader as racial stereotyping; all I'll say is don't belabour the point.)

Hughes does not stint on the technical details either - there is enough seafaring jargon here to last you all the way to Hispaniola. Turbines, condensors, pumps, fire-room, furnace, steering gear, aftercastle, hull, fuel tanks... even with the utmost effort, you can barely keep your head wrapped around it all, although in fairness Hughes does strive to keep everything as clear and shipshape as he can. The depth and thoroughness of his research into the workings of a steamship will be apparent even to the most casual reader. Still, one might struggle. After all, the sum total of what I learnt from reading Forester's Brown on Resolution many years ago is simply this - port means left (four letters both) and starboard means right! And there it ends, at least with me.

A final word then on the quality of the prose. Maybe it's a lost art among modern generations of writers, but Hughes' prose has an assurance and fluidity - an aplomb - that you don't see much of any more among today's stuttering amateurs. And yet it used to be fairly common in the first half of the last century. Not the complex constructions of the 19th century, but prose that had improved in clarity without losing any of its sinuous muscularity.

Ah well, one can harken back to olden times, but what good does it do? In the meantime, you have Richard Hughes to keep you company. I read an old Penguin paperback, but kudos where they are due: NYRB Books have reissued all four of Hughes' novels, adding to their ever-wondrous catalogue of forgotten classics.

P.S. Apparently, In Hazard is based on the true story of the Phemius, a ship which was caught up in a ferocious hurricane in 1932. The captain’s report so impressed the owners that they gave a copy to the writer who ended up working it into a novel.

[Yuri Sharon · Rating 4 out of 5]

In his Afterword, written thirty years after In Hazard was published in 1938, Richard Hughes remarked that “perhaps the real reason we like reading is to have our therapeutic dreaming supplied to us, thus, from outside.” He felt that, in 1938, the depiction of an unprecedented hurricane was suggestive of the trials of the approaching war; that the unremitting ferocity against which the ship and crew must struggle, well beyond the limits of usual endurance, had to be acknowledged and faced.
Taking a real incident in which a ship was trapped within a monster hurricane and dragged across the Caribbean, Hughes reworked it as fiction – “signing on a new crew” to face the extraordinary and sometimes bizarre vagaries of fate. While making sure the reader understands the technical details of how a steam ship works and what a hurricane does, Hughes increasingly draws our attention to the effects the experience of the storm had on the men. How people behave, and say their prayers, how they face their fears (or hide from them) in extremis is very much the subject of the book.
Even so, whatever self-knowledge people may feel they have gained in the face of prolonged danger does not mean they (or some of them) will not later revert to previous attitudes, turning the occurrence into “an experience” to be related for the entertainment of others, something to make them “interesting”.
Despite the period flavor, this work feels relevant to our times. In his Afterword Hughes also wrote: “At times of exceptionally deliberate self-deception people tend to shun all poetry and fiction; indeed it is symptomatic of a fear of the naked truth to prefer nonfiction.” Is this not so?

[Jamie Smith · Rating 1 out of 5]

Okay, so I understand that there is no accounting for individual tastes, but I am amazed how many people thought this was a wonderful book. All I could think as I read it was: third rate Joseph Conrad, whose Typhoon is similar in plot but so much better. I served on Navy ships and went through some ferocious storms. I remember what it is like to take green water over the bow and plunge so deep into a monstrous swell that the ship is shaken like a rag doll, or take a hard roll that just seems to keep going and going until you wonder if this is the one you don’t come back from. Those are moments of high drama and a good author should be able to capture the struggle of men battling the wild elements. Conrad could do it, but Hughes cannot. His characters are wooden and uninteresting. When he writes that they are afraid he is unconvincing, and he jumps around among them with only superficial discussions of their lives and skills. In the end none of them seem to have learned anything from this encounter, about the sea or about themselves, and the way Hughes dealt with the Chief Engineer made me laugh from the sheer fumbling bathos of the moment, a cheap and blatant attempt to evoke empathy from the reader.

If you want to read a wonderful real-life story of a naturalist’s journey on a small whaling ship in the early years of the 20th century, with storms and ice and endless days at sea, look for Robert Cushman Murphy’s Logbook for Grace. Now that is a tale of adventure at sea that you will not soon forget.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

very quick, quirky read from delightfully odd writer.

[Jodi · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wie dieses Buch auf meiner Wunschliste gelandet ist, weiss ich gar nicht mehr. Auf jeden Fall stand es lange Zeit dort. Irgendwie brachte ich es nicht über mich, es zu entfernen. Zu lesen bisher leider auch nicht. Bis gleich mehrere Challenges auf diesen Titel passten und ich es endlich, endlich von der Wunschliste wegholen konnte.

Hughes schreibt schon zu Beginn des Buches, dass er so nahe wie möglich an der Realität bleiben möchte, auch wenn seine Geschichte erfunden ist. Das merkt man dem Werk auch an. Die Details sind faszinierend, aber eben nur, wenn man sich auch für das Thema interessiert. Für alle anderen wird dieses Buch schnell langweilig und öde.

Leser, die sich aber für die Schifffahrt, und auch insbesondere für ihre historische Seite interessieren, ist dieses Buch definitiv einen Blick wert. Der Schreibstil hielt mich trotz der Informationsfülle gefangen, er passt sich den Umständen an. Erklärt, wo erklärt werden muss, und wird gefühlvoll, wenn es angebracht ist.

Der erste Teil des Buches beschäftigt sich mit den Umständen, den Wetterverhältnissen, dem Schiff selbst. Im zweiten Teil kommen dann die Figuren zum Zuge, erhalten Hintergrundgeschichten und mehr Tiefe. Eine interessante, auch etwas eigenwillige Auifteilung, die hier aber gut funktioniert.

Stimmungsvoll, gefährlich, düster - so gibt sich dieses Werk. Für alle lesenden Hochseefahrer/innen ein kleiner Tipp für Zwischendurch.

[Chloe Rojas · Rating 2 out of 5]

Thought the plot was good and the writing was funny, I can’t get past the miscellaneous use of slurs thst are sprinkled through this book. Also, if I knew more about 1920s steamers, this book would make more sense. RIP Mr. McDonald, you deserved better.

[David · Rating 2 out of 5]

A bit of rum, sodomy and / or the lash would have spiced this up a bit. I liked Dick. Ao Ling was ok. But everyone else was pretty boring.


"At first Sukie had blazed in Dick's mind, lighting every part of it: but now already, after two days, she had contracted and receded like the opening by which you have entered a tunnel: turned more unearthily bright than the broad day, but very distant and small and clear."

"It is wonderful how the free busting of anything, especially valuable stuff, goes to your head."

Dick and Ao Ling, perfectly ordinary boys who happen to be fucking each other?:
"Like most young white men, he had not really looked on the Chinese as human until he had touched one. In consequence, the shock of that touch had been much greater than it would have been in the case of another white man. If he had been grappling with a white man, he would have known what to expect, in the way to feel: whereas the feel of Ao Ling took him quite by surprise.
...
Why should he have found the feel of Ao Ling ... so curiously reminiscent of the feel of Sukie, as he carried her to the sofa? Was it just because they were much the same weight, and both had smooth skin?
...
His heart beat rather wildly at the thought of seeing Ao Ling face to face.
...
An what would Ao Ling feel, when he saw the man who had seized him?"

[Susanna Rautio · Rating 2 out of 5]

Kovaonninen Archimedes joutuu Tyynellämerellä vuonna 1924 myrskyyn, jollaista kenenkään merimiehen ei pitäisi kokea.

Kohtuullinen kirja merenkulusta, höyrylaivoista, monikansallisen miehistön haasteista ja laivan komentoketjusta.

Selviytymistarina ja yksi tapa tehdä pojista miehiä -opas 🤣

Parempi kirja Richard Hughesilta kuin Rajumyrky Jamaikalla, joka sekin oli meriaiheinen.

[Dan Ray · Rating 5 out of 5]

Experience the awesome power of a hurricane from the comfort of your chair. Gripping, powerful.

[Karen]

I read the Time-Life edition, which is a bit weird because apparently Time-Life published literary fiction for a little while? Or maybe they just meant to publish nautical or survival tales, and Hughes slipped in.

This book has echoes of A High Wind in Jamaica—the interest in the ocean, in hurricanes and their apocalyptic destruction as well as their godlike capriciousness, the strangeness and eeriness of life’s little details. It delves a bit into geopolitical issues and history, turning over the life of a Chinese crewman as well as that of an English junior deckhand. Its characters debate God and the afterlife in ways that are both symbolic and also believable, given their four-day near-death experience in the mouth of a terrible storm.

The descriptions of life at sea and the details of how a steamship might be kept floating when practically everything possible has been done to sink it, kept me wrapped up. And that wonderful Hughes weirdness is threaded throughout, a kind of sober humor that I really enjoy.

[Robert · Rating 4 out of 5]

»Die Tage von Conrads Taifun sind vorbei; jene Tage, wo Hurrikane den Schiffsverkehr so unerwartet überfielen wie die Katze die Maus. Zum einen wissen die Mäuse heute mehr über die Anatomie der Katze und ihre Bewegungsmuster – und außerdem hat man der Katze ein Glöckchen umgehängt.« (In Bedrängnis, S. 32)

Wie verhält sich der Mensch in Gefahrensituationen, wenn er sich eigentlich sicher gefühlt hat? Dieser Frage nimmt sich der wiederentdeckte und erstmals ins Deutsche übersetzte Roman Richard Hughes’ an. Wir begleiten die Crew der Archimedes, die sich von Virginia auf den Weg nach China macht. Obgleich die Hurrikan-Saison als überstanden gilt, dauert es nicht lange, bis der moderne Dampfer – wie es der Titel schon andeutet – in Bedrängnis gerät.

Doch nicht nur der Glaube, dass das Wetter nach von Menschen erfundenen Regeln spielt, erweist sich als irrig; auch alle anderen Annahmen und Gesetzmäßigkeiten scheinen außer Kraft gesetzt: Der Hurrikan, mit dem sich die Crew konfrontiert sieht, spielt nicht nach den Lehrbuch-Regeln. Die Meteorologie und die Frühwarnsysteme versagen und so wird der riesige Dampfer von den unerwarteten Winden zu einer Nussschale degradiert, die erbarmungslos über den Ozean geweht wird.

Ebenso erweisen sich die Zahlen als Augenwischerei, die so viel Sicherheit suggerieren: Der Schornstein, der einem seitlichen Druck von 100 Tonnen trotzen kann, erweist sich in dem Sturm ebenso fragil wie die Luken, die dem Wasser zwar standhalten, wenn es von außen kommt, aber nicht, wenn sich ein Vakuum bildet und der Druck von der anderen Seite wirkt.

Durch dieses Zusammentreffen mehrerer unglücklicher Umstände sind die Männer, die sonst nach Hierarchien und Einsatzgebieten getrennt operieren, auf sich allein gestellt und müssen eine Einheit bilden. Um zu überleben gilt es, ihr Wissen zu bündeln und an einem Strang zu ziehen. Hughes gelingt es, die zwei Position sprachlich gegenüberzustellen: Von der anfänglichen Euphorie über die Errungenschaften der Technik bis hin zur Ernüchterung.

Die sachlichen Beschreibungen, die der Erzähler dem Leser wie von einem Datenblatt abgelesen durchgibt, vermitteln den Eindruck von Sicherheit. Der Mensch fühlt sich über die Natur erhaben, wirkliche Abenteuer auf See können, so scheint es, kaum noch stattfinden. Die minutiös aufgeführten Eigenschaften der Archimedes legen präzise dar, warum es (theoretisch) zu keinerlei Überraschungen oder Widrigkeiten auf hoher See mehr kommen kann.

Als sich dieser Glaube als Trugbild erweist, wird das Vertrauen in die Technik mit den Wellen weggespült. Die Matrosen, Männer einer säkularisierten Zeit, wenden sich von den Maschinen ab und beginnen in ihrer Hoffnungslosigkeit sogar wieder zu beten, obgleich sie sich kaum mehr an die Worte erinnern.

Geschickt verzahnt Hughes die Gefühle der Crew mit individuellen Hintergründen und Motivationen einzelner Besatzungsmitglieder. Der Leser bekommt auf diese Weise sowohl einen Eindruck für das große Ganze als auch einen Einblick in die Gedankenwelt ausgewählter Protagonisten.

In Bedrängnis ist somit ein äußerst lesenswertes Buch, das – trotz heute antiquiert wirkender technischer Errungenschaften – nicht an Aktualität verloren hat. Mehr denn je fühlen wir uns sicher und unerschütterlich und doch bedarf es nur eines Hurrikans á la Katrina oder eines im Sommer wütenden Waldbrandes, um uns unsere Verletzlichkeit und Ohnmacht der Natur gegenüber vor Augen zu führen.

[Peer · Rating 3 out of 5]

Setting: Steamship in a hurricane, somewhere near the Carrebian sea, in November 1929

Story told in past tense. I am not very fond of stories in past tense, but this story sometimes surges you in like the storm itself. Even though it is not a fast read. The story tells about a steamer, the Archimedes, and their crew, who get stuck into a huge hurricane for about five days. During the storm, the writers tells about the live of some of the crew members, why they became seaman, and how they stand to God.

The book has two parts. The fist part describes the ship, the second the crew. The division in chapters is not always logical, and in one occasion the writer repeats himself. So, if ever someone founds this book good enough to republish, I would recommend a good editing.

[Ryan Chapman · Rating 3 out of 5]

I thought a good sea adventure story might be a refreshing change. Despite a few digressions into his characters' origins that distract more than they illuminate, Hughes does his best to elevate the genre to literary heights. He certainly captures the minute-to-minute terror or going through a five-day hurricane aboard a destroyed steamer ship. The omniscient first-person narration is praised in the introduction, though I found it intrusive and, at times, cloying.

Next up in my High Seas Syllabus - The Sea Wolf by Jack London.

[Noah · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not what I expected: Theis "novel" reads like a non-fiction report of the shipping accident. Very detailed with a great emphasis on making technical details understood but with shallow stereotypical characters, a cliché subplot and racist undertones.

[Trevor · Rating 3 out of 5]

For my complete review, go here:

http://mookse.wordpress.com/2008/09/1...

[Clark · Rating 3 out of 5]

I learned a bunch about boats that they don't really make anymore. The weird bio of the dude chinese dude in the middle of the book is tight.

[Steve · Rating 1 out of 5]

A promising plot that devolves into random hallucinations. Strange.

[Graychin · Rating 2 out of 5]

After reading A High Wind in Jamaica last year, this was a real disappointment. Though there are a few memorable passages, In Hazard is just a spotty mess.

[Paik · Rating 1 out of 5]

Not sure what I just read here. Would not recommend. To anyone.

[Esther · Rating 2 out of 5]

Yes, there was a storm. The end.

[Kathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Phillips, in a curious way, did not mind so much. He said the Lord's Prayer once, and left it at that. His mind divided in to two halves. One half was actually glad. For young Phillips for the first time, loved a girl with his whole soul; and she overlooked him. If he were drowned at sea she would be told; his death would sadden her a little, even if his life was indifferent to her. There was no true living for him, he felt, except in her thoughts: then his death alone could secure him life, even life for the few minutes she would give to thinking of him. Like many young lovers, he confused a girl with God: and he could almost imagine her now, watching him, out of the sky; watching him die, and pitying him" (39).

"There was a smell of stale sea, stale food, and stale air; but there was another smell too: bitter, ammoniac. It was quite faint, but the captain knew it. You do not forget it, if you have ever smelt it. It was the smell of fear. Disciplined men can control their muscles, even their facial expressions. But they cannot control the chemistry of their sweat glands" (49).

"Surely if she could see him like this, she would love him with her whole heart.

And yet, I don't know. Would she have loved him? She had like dwell enough to sit on the knees of his shore-going uniform, to rub her cheek against his pink smooth cheek. Would she really have preferred to sit on the knees of oily and sodden dungarees, her cheek against his sore and stubbly jaw?

His face did not wear, as he thought, the lean, drawn, and lion-like aspect one expects of an unflinching hero. For the immediate effect on a hero's face of unflinching effort is seldom to make him look romantic; more often it makes him look liverish. You know that noble look of open, wise patience, that you have seen on the face of some great explorer? That look did not come to him in the desert. The desert may have begotten it, but it only came to him afterwards, in safety and comfort. In the desert, he looked at times brutal, at times petulant, at times frightened. Never noble" (89).

"With so much technical knowledge to acquire anyhow, why waste the man's time in learning a useless and outmoded technique as well?

The answer is a matter of Virtue, really. For an inclination towards virtue (such as sent Mr. Buxton to sea) is not enough in itself; it must be trained, like any other aptitude. Now there is a fundamental difference in kind between the everyday work of a sailing-vessel and the everyday work of a steamer. The latter does not essentially differ from a shore job: it is only occasionally, rarely, that emergencies arise in Steam. But every common action in the working of a sailing-vessel, all the time, partakes of something of the nature of an emergency. Everything must be done with your whole heart, and a little more than your whole strength. Thus is a natural aptitude for virtue increased by everyday practice. For changing a jib in a stiff breeze is a microcosm, as it were, of saving the ship in a storm" (127-128).

[Stark]

I read this by accident, after picking up a 1960s edition of the book with a wild cover by Tom Ballenger (https://www.design-is-fine.org/post/1...) at a book swap. [Side note: it’s a Time Reading Program edition, which is a rabbit hole of luscious book cover design]. Finding out that the book is a 1930s adventure novel about a hurricane on a steamship was a surprise, but I thought I’d dip in for a few pages.

Period typical racism has to be tolerated in order to read this, and not everyone will be able to do it. I was because my minority was not the target. I would compare it to a Merchant of Venice level, ie, repugnant, but breaking ground in its time for attempting to look at its Others as if they’ve got something similar to human feelings. However, if you’re AIPAC it may be too disgusting.

Ok, now to the things that were interesting about it. Reading non-canon, non-literary fiction from another era is an interesting look at how people were entertained, and I’m always curious to see how that was achieved, as well as finding out if these means work on myself. I headed in with no hopes really. I’ve seen this subject, large boats v. dangerous weather, a number of times in movies, as has everyone else, and it’s always bored me completely. This book covers all the same beats; the tilting ship, the walls of water, etc etc.

But it does it in such a way that I, again probably the person most bored by “action” in the Western Hemisphere, was gripped. I can’t overemphasize how surprised I was by this.

It started with a description of the workings of the ship, from the engine room, to the double walls of the hull, to the funnels. It wasn’t afraid to give you a quick physics lesson where it would help, either. None of this was boring; the effect was of seeing this technology through the eyes of a time that was excited about these brand new things existing. Most sci fi I’ve read does a far lesser job of making you feel wonder at technology. I felt like I’d been to the World’s Fair.
tbc…