Review (and Commentary) of “Treasure Island” by Robert Louis Stevenson

treasure island

Cover art for the novel “Treasure Island” by Robert Louis Stevenson.

At the ripe old age of seventy (soon to be seventy-one), I don’t believe I’ve read Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel Treasure Island before. It first appeared in book form in 1883 and before that, was serialized in a children’s magazine from 1881 to 1882 under the title “Treasure Island or the Mutiny of the Hispaniola.”

“Children’s literature” indeed since it describes more than one murder in somewhat grisly detail as well as the threat of torture, hangings, alcoholism, and dismemberment.

Truth be told, I picked it up (figuratively speaking) because I’m interested in authoring a book for an open submission requesting adventure novels written specifically for boys. Not only that, but a boy (probably about age ten) must be an active participant in the story if not the main protagonist.

Stevenson’s classic novel was suggested as an inspiration. Since it is open domain, it’s a free download (available for purchase as well if you want all the bells and whistles) in a variety of formats.

Like other 19th century novels, it’s not written in a way that’s always easy for the modern reader. There are times when it rambles and winds its way toward its ultimate conclusion along several unlikely paths.

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Adorable

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Image: boomerhighway.org

On a perfect morning when I have to take my grandkids to daycare, I have everything set up before they’re awake.

My son makes Landon’s green smoothie and Dani’s bottle before he leaves for work, so I don’t have to worry about forgetting to put probiotics or whatever in their breakfast.

Landon is easy. He’s seven-years-old and all I have to do is wake him up and make sure he’s rolling. Dani’s just 13-months-old and needs a lot more attention.

After I get Landon up and make sure he’s out of bed, I go to Dani’s bedroom. Most of the time, she wakes up and she’s crying to be let out of prison…uh, her crib. She looks so pathetic and adorable with tears in her eyes, even after I pick her up.

Sometimes, she’s still asleep and I have to gently wake her up by rubbing her back. Even when she wakes and starts crying, it takes her ten or fifteen minutes to become completely alert.

This morning, when I went into her room, she was awake and standing, but not crying at all. It was like she was just waiting for me.

I usually pick her up and start talking to her. I walk through the kitchen, making sure Landon’s at the table with his breakfast, then take her to the windows facing the back yard. This time of year, it’s still low light between six and six-thirty, and it’s easy on her eyes as we greet the morning together.

Sometimes she smiles, I’m not sure at what, as she looks outside.

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