The African Queen

We had to read this book by C. F. Forester back in Year Eight (I’m not counting this as a reread, though, because I’m sure I only skimmed it), and I remember the whole class hated it and thought it ridiculous. I picked it up again because I thought that my twelve-year-old sensibilities would have changed, but they haven’t. It isn’t a particularly good book, and I’ve no idea who recommended it for a Year Eight class. Well, except there’s a movie of it, which makes teaching easier. It’s about a woman missionary in 1914 who escapes with a mechanic on a boat down a mighty river in Africa in order to strike a blow for England – literally, by blowing up a German ship. It’s clearly told, but that’s all I can say for it. It’s terribly sexist, and terribly elitist; the mechanic is cockney and has his dialogue all written out for him; and it’s all right that the missionary falls for him because apparently her father was only a shopkeeper, so she’s just a class above him. The “romance” is only as much as people of their class seem to manage, with slight endearments and some animalistic lust, and so is their thinking. C. S. Forester mocks everything in the story except the boat; he shows that thing great respect. The description is probably accurate (I wouldn’t know), for it’s far more real than any human being. Strangely enough the characters become more, rather than less, cardboard as the story goes on; perhaps because he insists on telling us rather than showing us more about their thought processes. I think, in short, it’s a terrible book, and I really hope people don’t write books like this anymore.