Title: Robinson Crusoe
Author: Daniel Defoe
Genre: classic, historical fiction, adventure
Release Date: April 25, 1719
Length: 301 pages
Regarded as the first English novel, Robinson Crusoe is a work that goes to the heart of human existence. Told through the journal of Crusoe, the sole survivor of a shipwreck, it chronicles his daily battle to stay alive on a desert island, where his greatest struggle is with solitude — until a single footprint appears in the sand.
Vividly depicting an individual’s psychological development from terrified survivor to master of man and nature, Defoe created one of the most enduring, universal myths in literature.
I was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good family, tho’ not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at Hull: He got a good estate by merchandise, and leaving off his trade, lived afterward at York, from whence he had married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very good family in that country, and from whom I was call’d Robinson Kreutznaer; but by the usual corruption of words in England, we are now call’d, nay we call our selves, and write our name Crusoe, and so my companions always call’d me.
What made me get it and thoughts on the cover
What— The stunning cover. And to collect even more of the Penguin English Library.
The cover — Beautiful tree leaves that gives the cover an almost 3D effect with a nice shade of green and of course the book is so easy to hold.
That’s one long first sentence, don’t you think? The period took a while to show up.
Very rarely do I buy books knowing that I’d never read them. That’s what happened upon purchasing Robinson Crusoe, I got it just for the beautiful cover, and decided not to read it since all people around me who’ve read this said that it’s very draggy and boring and that it basically sucks.
One day, I was looking at it in the middle of one of the stacks in my room and thought: “Why not pick it up and read just 3 pages each day, if it’s really bad I won’t torture myself by reading it all at once”. Of course, the first 3 pages ended up being 25 and the next 3 pages ended up being 75…, so let’s just say that I read it fast. Why? Because I liked it.
This book is about the journey of a young man who wants an adventure, he doesn’t want to work a normal job, he wants something different. He goes through many endeavors, some take him downhill while others make him flourish until he gets himself marooned in an island all alone. On the island, the first few years take up most of the book’s length. Is it detailed? Yes, but I liked reading all the details about how he felt and how he managed to survive and keep himself sane. The other twenty-something years on the island passed by faster with a new companion to keep him company -Friday, and later on a lot more, all this passes by faster but it still kept me entertained. Then the years that occurred out of the island passed by even faster.
I really loved reading through all the changes that Robinson went through throughout the book, the way he viewed his bad luck as a blessing and how he came to start to believe in God and Faith was very touching.
There’s also a lot of beautiful lines to ponder over.
It was really difficult to read with no chapters because I usually like to stop my day’s read at the end of a chapter but here I would stop anywhere and every time I continued reading I kept on feeling like it’s one endless chapter (so it was a new experience). Also, the lack of dialogues was different since in the majority of the book it’s just Robinson with his thoughts and chores. A lot of new stuff that may have made me enjoy it more.
A thought-provoking book. If you don’t mind detailed writing, you should try reading this. Oh and don’t try to improve your spelling by reading this novel, I don’t know why but lots of words were spelled so differently back then and there’s lots of contractions and viz. 5/5 stars
I learn’d to look more upon the bright side of my condition, and less upon the dark side; and to consider what I enjoy’d, rather than what I wanted; and this gave me sometimes such secret comforts, that I cannot express them; and which I take notice of here, to put those discontented people in mind of it, who cannot enjoy comfortably what God has given them; because they see, and covet something that he has not given them: All our discontents about what we want, appeared to me, to spring from the want of thankfulness for what we have.