I found the O'Brian novels in a rather curious way. I happened to be in a Latin American prison, accused of running guns to the freedom fighters. One evening, the prison commandant came to my cell. "Your appeal has been denied" he said, "Tomorrow you die. Be brave." He asked if there was anything I wanted - tobacco, rum, a priest. All I wanted, I told him, was a good book to while away the dark hours of my final night. He nodded, and soon returned with a dog-eared paperback - it was an old Fontana edition of "Desolation Island". "You will like it", the commandant said. "It is a little like Hornblower, and, curiously, a little like Jane Austen." The cell door slammed shut, and I was left with my book to my solitude. How I devoured that book! My own danger was nothing compared to the tribulations of the Horrible old Leopard! I scarcely noticed the passing of the night and the coming of the dawn - my last dawn. Suddenly, the door was flung open - "It is time", the commandant said. "Put down the book. Come." Sadly, I laid down the book. My hands were bound behind me, and I was led out to the hideous bullet-riddled wall in the courtyard of the prison. "Cigarette? Blindfold?" I shook my head. "Any last requests"? I considered for a moment, and said "Commandante, I'm at this very interesting part of the book where the Leopard's being chased by a Dutch ship of the line - I'd love to finish it!" The commandant nodded vigorously. "Ah, the Waakzamheid episode! An excellent passage - possibly one of O'Brian's best! Very well, amigo - finish the chapter - but tomorrow you die!" (One may be shot only at dawn in those parts - it is the tradition)
Back in my cell, I returned to "Desolation Island" eagerly. I quickly read the gripping Waakzamheid chapter, and had finished the book just as dawn broke the following day. Back in the courtyard, the firing squad waited impatiently as the commandant again offered the blindfold and cigarette. I shook my head, and once again he asked for my last request. "Well... I see that "Desolation Island" is part of a series - could I read another?" Sighing, the commandant agreed as the firing squad groaned in disappointment. I was flung back into my cell with a copy of "The Reverse of the Medal". As the door closed, the commandant looked at me sadly. "Amigo, I wish you'd take the cigarette and blindfold, instead..." he said wistfully.
My life soon assumed a regular pattern. I would read away in my cell, pausing only to eat my daily bowl of rice and beans and tortillas. From time to time, I would be led to the courtyard. Usually the firing squad wouldn't even show up - the commandant assured me he'd be happy to shoot me himself. I would make my request for the next O'Brian, and then I'd be led back to my cell; back to the world of Jack and Stephen, Killick and Bonden, Sophie and Diana, the Sloth and the Vampire Bat and all the other unforgettable characters. But the fatal day finally arrived - I had finished the canon! I was led to the wall, as the firing squad grinned and waved in eager anticipation. "Well, my friend" The commandant smiled, "The books are done - now we must say adios at last! What is your final - and I emphasize FINAL - request?" I drew myself up straighter, and met his eye. "Commandante", I said to him, "You have been kind to me. I admire your literary taste. I have enjoyed my time as your prisoner, and will trouble you with only one more well little small request." The firing squad began to whine. "The novels of Patrick O'Brian are superb, each one considered on their own. But you know, I've come to consider that, taken together, they form a long integral story - they are, in fact, one long novel. By your leave, I should like to read them again, this time - in order!"
As I was led back to my cell, I realized that I had never before seen a commandant and firing squad weeping. Alas, I was only halfway through my second reading when a coup d'état deposed the government, and my friends the freedom fighters released me from prison. I would have returned the O'Brians to my friend the commandant, but he was shot on the morning I was released. The new commandant had offered him a book in his final hours, but it was only a "Sharpe" novel. "Shoot me", he said, and walked to the courtyard, his head held high.
