WHITE WINGS

William Black 1841-1898)

Publ. 1880

Mary Avon has just spent two months in Edinburgh caring for an old lady;  looking for a vacation, she has arrived in Glasgow, where she's welcomed by the old Laird of Denny-Mains, with whom she's about to spend the summer sailing about the islands of western Scotland on his sloop, the White Dove.  She has made a small amount of money with her oil painting and is looking for new landscapes in the western Highlands.  Several days are spent at the Laird's Osprey Castle while waiting for Angus Sutherland to arrive.  Angus is an up-and-coming young scientist with an interests in medicine, biology, zoology, physics and chemistry.  He's written at least one paper on radiolaria that was well received.  (Tiny protozoans with complex structures.)  Mary is alone in the world except for an uncle, Fred Smethurst, a short and thin reprobate with a sneaky grey eyes.  Fred shows up when the party is about ready to go and has a brief interview with Mary after which he departs.

Mary has sailed before and it's not long before she is at the helm as they sail past the isle of Rum, headed for the basalt cliffs of Canna.  They anchor in a convenient inlet and row to shore, exploring the herds of puffin populating the island and listening to the deep roar of the sea as it fills up the sea caverns, rattling the rocks and pebbles and slowly but surely gouging out a tunnel into the land.  Soon they're sailing again, hoping to reach the Isle of Skye.  Close-hauled before a strong western wind, the boat takes spray and water occasionally courses along the starboard scuppers.  The Laird and Angus discuss the geology of the area, citing the researches of Hugh Miller, one of the very first Scottish geologists who played a major role in unraveling the primordial mysteries associated with the PreCambrian history of Scotland.  Angus has some highly interesting theories:  humans are a trivial incident in the history of the Earth;  the bad things that have occurred in recorded history are due to a poor diet;  criminals should be fat because it would tend to conceal their guilty faces.

They moor overnight in the bay of Portee to do some shopping and notice a light earthquake that is not explained.  The ship returns to Castle Osprey where Mary receives a message from her banker that all her money is gone.  She had had a small inheritance from her aunt that was producing a livable income from the Funds, but apparently uncle Fred forged her name and stole it all.  Mary is an intense sort of person when it comes to personal responsibility.  She has a certain amount of pride and egoistic independence which interferes with her relationship with others.  She and Angus fall in love, but because she thinks Angus is on the verge of becoming a famous scientist, and that she is nobody without her money, she cools toward him on the pretext of not wanting to inhibit his rise to glory and recognition.

The Laird has had visions of wanting Mary to marry his nephew, Howard, and hopes to leave Castle Osprey to the both of them in his will.  To this end he invites Howard along on the next sailing expedition after Angus has left.  Angus leaves partly because Mary has rejected him and partly because he has a lot of research to do in London.  Howard is a light-weight of course, even though he's a friendly sort of person, but Mary doesn't take him seriously.  Instead she governs herself to be nice to him and the others, pretending that Angus's absence doesn't mean anything.  On the next tour, sailing north, they meet some spectacular scenery and sunsets.  Becalmed on one quiet evening, they are stunned at the vision of a scarlet sea as it meshes with the violet sky and the black rock cliffs on either side and the low breathing of the ocean as it moves up and down.

The party continues making trips during the summer, visiting ruined monasteries on the deserted isles and searching for seals with which the Laird professes a desire to make Mary a seal coat.  He's not deterred by her informing him that without question she doesn't want a seal coat.  Eventually he understands Mary's behavior and how the loss of her money has effected her, and he desists in that endeavor and also comes to understand that Mary and Howard will never marry.  That in fact Mary is deeply in love with Angus who's been badly hurt by her cold attitude.  So he manages, on their last excursion to Stornoway on the Isle of Lewis, to get rid of Howard, who is anxious to go partridge shooting with a friend in northern England.  Staging their way up toward the northern Highlands, they meet storms and have more adventures.  Finally, as a result of the Laird's action in the matter, they meet another ship as they are tacking out of the narrow neck leading out of the Loch of Hell (Loch Hourn) and Angus joins them via rowboat just as they are about to have difficulty against the strong headwind.  The Laird, who earlier in the book had seemed to be a typically obtuse and opinionated land-owner, changes his attitude and  seeks an interview with both Mary and Angus, individually, and arranges for them to understand each other and, finally, schedules their marriage when they return to Osprey Castle.  He also reimburses Mary for her monetary losses, restoring her self of self-possession.   In the meantime, the collective group undertakes sailing through the Minch with, its whirlpools and subsurface rocks, in the middle of a storm.  They arrive successfully and spend time with friends, walking and behaving joyously.

Black was a very popular writer during his life, perhaps outselling even Dickens in some places.  It was not because he was such an exceptional writer - the plot in this work has several holes and inconsistencies - but because he was a genius at describing landscapes.  I mentioned in my last post that some authors have that knack of thrusting the reader into the center of whatever sweep of scenery they may be describing, and Black is better at that sort of thing than any author i can recall reading.  I have no doubt that this gift is what made him so popular with the later Victorians.  After all, they didn't have TV and most of them didn't have the wherewithal to attend the theater, many of them not even enough to patronize the occasional traveling troupe that might pass through.  But reading one of Black's works must have gone a long way to providing an escape from their work-intensive grind.  I'll read more of his work...