Joseph (Paperback)

The story is narrated by Joseph, and the premise is that he is writing to Lord Wellington--years after the events he relates here--in an attempt to finagle some money from him. He says he can prove he was a member of the English army, he implies that Wellington was the father of the bastard son he has raised, and though born in Italy and raised in Spain, he also has the audacity to claim an English heritage. Sounds a bit preposterous, but then this Joseph has a way of making one want to believe him. He's a clever, conniving little fellow who we find nobody trusts but everybody likes. He's an admitted coward, an opportunist, a toady, a libertine--and a charmer. Most of all, he is a survivor, as he will tell you, again and again. He will also tell you that he is completely truthful. Heh, heh. Not exactly, but to a certain degree, well, yes. He is.

In any event, Spain was a hotbed of activity in the early 19th century as it was invaded by Napoleon and then governed by his brother, although they were never really able to conquer it. The Spanish Ulcer, as Napoleon referred to it. Spanish citizens were bitterly divided over their support for him and bloody conflict raged. Our hero spends the early part of this era in a brothel operated by a madam who may or may not have been his mother, (and with whom he never, EVER, had sexual relations), ignobly spying alternately for both sides and for no other purpose than to save his own skin. He eventually ends up as a member of the English army--possibly--after they save him from a gang of gypsies who may--perhaps--have castrated him. He is present at if not exactly a participant in the two decisive battles of the war: Salamanca in 1812, and Vittorio in 1813, the latter of which drove Napoleon out of the country for good. Luckily for us, whether drunk with wine, or running in fear, he remains a remarkable observer.

Aside from the hugely original and entertaining narrator, the novel is great for several other reasons as well. As exemplified above, the detail is outstanding. Landscapes, villages, taverns and fields; heat and rain; food and wine at banquet and in camp; weapons and wounds; the attire of soldier, peasant, priest, and slattern: all are richly evoked and have the solid ring of authenticity about them.

The characters are also finely drawn and are clearly creatures of their time and place. Particularly interesting is Joseph's father, with his books and his moral dignity. He lectures his son on his prevailing philosophy: reason, and how men should be guided by it. One thinks, of course! This is the era of both American and French revolution, movements whose leaders were guided by this concept. Napoleon also makes a memorable appearance, gulping wine and devouring a greasy chicken while justifying his bloody actions in the world as a necessary means of bringing order to it. Weights and measures, taxes and tariffs; from country to country and even village to village, none were uniform. Napoleon sought to end this for the good, he says, of man. It is a credit to the author that despite what we know of Napoleon, the argument is quite convincing.

Above all, though, what makes this novel stand out is the quality of its story-telling. This is not a recitation of famous events told by cardboard characters--like so much of contemporary historical fiction--it is a story of one person. His childhood enemies and friends; the girl he loved and the friend who cheated him; the family he betrayed and the Irish soldiers who took him in: these are not "historical" events, these are the little things that all of us experience in our lives. The little things that make great fiction. This novel assuredly belongs in that class.