“Robinson Crusoe,” by Daniel Defoe

FM's ratings:

          1. Premise 7
          2. Prose 5
          3. Plot 6
          4. Characters 7
          5. Overall 6

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For me, this is another example of a “CLASSIC” that is kept alive over the generations due to factors other than literary merit.  One expert claims that it is “regarded by many as the first real novel,” whatever that means.  The premise was interesting enough in its day, though it has been rather overdone since then.  (I couldn’t help seeing Tom Hanks in my mind’s eye as I read.)  The prose can probably be forgiven on the grounds of how early the book was written, but it is full of awkward phrasing, ending sentences with prepositions, run-on sentences, and all the other faults that would have resulted in its pages being zig-zagged by red ink after review by a high school English teacher.  Even the major event that we’ve all been waiting for is clumsily introduced (about half-way through the book) - “It happened one day, about noon, going towards my boat, I was exceedingly surprised with the print of a man’s naked foot on the shore, which was very plain to be seen on the sand.”  I remember having heard that Friday was the most interesting character in the story, and I would have to agree; though it is largely due to lack of exposure.  Defoe seems to feel the need to make up for the ploddingly slow plot development throughout the first three quarters of the book by tacking on some action-packed scenes near the end.  Who would have recommended that a story about a man being stranded on a tropical island should wrap up at the very end with him and a band of winter travelers being attacked by hundreds of wolves in the mountainous area between Spain and France?  Am I glad I read it?  Well, yes.  Would I recommend it to someone else?  Only for its historical significance.  Don Quixote was published more than 100 years earlier and is a better read.