The Cruel Sea

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They both had to shout: the wind caught the words on their very lips and whipped them away into the night. He was roused at one point from this tremendous concentration by someone nudging him, and he turned round to see a figure in the darkness beside him. Here were the ships, assembling for their long uncertain voyage: here was Compass Rose, appointed to guard them: here was Ferraby himself, a watchkeeping officer — or practically so — charged specifically with a share of that guardianship. His pale face flushed, his expression set in a new mold of determination, Ferraby surveyed the convoy with pride and a feeling of absolute proprietorship. Our ships, he thought: our cargoes, our men. . . . None would be surrendered, of this convoy or of any other, if it depended on any effort of his. Smith, J. Y. (9 August 1979). "Author Nicholas Monsarrat Dies". The Washington Post . Retrieved 20 April 2017. It had gone on too long, it had failed too horribly, it had cost too much. They had been at action stations for virtually eight days on end, missing hours of sleep, making do with scratch meals of cocoa and corned-beef sandwiches, living all the time under recurrent anxieties that often reached a desperate tension. There had hardly been a moment of the voyage when they could forget the danger that lay in wait for them and the days of strain that stretched ahead, and relax and find peace. They had been hungry and dirty and tired, from one sunrise to the next: they had lived in a ship crammed and disorganized by nearly three times her normal complement. Through it all, they had had to preserve an alertness and a keyed-up efficiency, hard enough to maintain even in normal circumstances.

Seldom, if ever, is it objectified, granularized and trivialized (and I use this term very, very circumspectly) in the way that it is here - and therein lies the glory of this book. The pervading spirit of the book is ennui - punctuated indiscriminately with rare picquances of drama. He added three short subheadings: “EngineRoom Branch: satisfactory.” “Telegraphy and Coding: adequate.” “Signal Branch: excellent.” Then he took a fresh sheet of paper. Ericson ripped open the envelope, and read slowly and carefully. It was what he had been waiting for.

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Monsarrat was born on Rodney Street [2] in Liverpool, Lancashire, to parents Keith Waldegrave Monsarrat FRCS (among the most eminent surgeons of his time) [3] and Marguerite Turney. [1] Monsarrat was educated at Winchester College and Trinity College, Cambridge. [4] In his autobiography, he wrote that the 1931 Invergordon Naval Mutiny influenced his interest in politics and social and economic issues after college. a b Krueger, Christine L. (2003), Encyclopedia of British Writers, 19th and 20th Centuries, Facts on File, p.257, ISBN 0-8160-4670-0 It’s impossible to choose the best. The Cruel Sea, however, deserves to stand among the best. It deserves an audience. This is good, very good, better than I I had expected. Years ago I had begun listening to this on a BBC broadcast. Such broadcasts are abridged, which is not to my liking! The novel, based on the author's experience of serving in corvettes and frigates in the North Atlantic in the Second World War, gives a matter-of-fact but moving portrayal of ordinary men learning to fight and survive in a violent, exhausting battle against the elements and a ruthless enemy.

He said — ah — ‘Don’t come the acid with me,’” Morell screwed up his eyes. “‘Come the acid’ . . . I must confess I have not heard that before.” This book focuses on humans that are thrown into war from their peacetime lives. Accountants, bankers, journalists, cargo ship captains, pension seeking peacetime sailors, are all placed in a war that they, as individuals, had very little to do with its inception. From there, the changes in the characters are illustrated through the most extreme of circumstances and the ever-accumulating risk associated with time. Decisions are made and sacrifices are suffered. The enemy becomes transformed from humans with differing points of view into mere objects of resistance: worthy of a hatred that can only be bestowed upon the most inhuman of threats. And the defenders are transformed into machines that are virtually unaware of the hatred that they display. I found the book even better than the film. More depth, more emotional intensity, more to really get your teeth into. His final work, unfinished at the time of his death but published in its incomplete form, was a two-volume historical novel titled The Master Mariner. Based on the legend of the Wandering Jew, it told the story of a 16th-century English seaman who, as punishment for a terrible act of cowardice, is doomed to sail the world's seas until the end of time. His hero participates in critical moments in history; Monsarrat used him to emphasize the importance of seamen.The last quarter of the book takes on a different character, as if Monsarrat found himself under pressure to keep his book within a specific length.