This is no Patrick O’Brian, that’s for sure. But hey, it doesn’t have to be. Under Enemy Colours covers a whole different niche of the Age of Sail novel: It is more like a combination of an adventure novel and a crime novel, rather than straight historic fiction. Whereas your average volume of the Aubreyad might almost better be called a social novel, Under Enemy Colours sets its whole focus on telling a fast paced story with as many exciting episodes as possible.



The book is very honest and upf

This is no Patrick O’Brian, that’s for sure. But hey, it doesn’t have to be. Under Enemy Colours covers a whole different niche of the Age of Sail novel: It is more like a combination of an adventure novel and a crime novel, rather than straight historic fiction. Whereas your average volume of the Aubreyad might almost better be called a social novel, Under Enemy Colours sets its whole focus on telling a fast paced story with as many exciting episodes as possible.



The book is very honest and upfront about bending history and fact to suit the fiction, which will not be to everyone’s taste. But since this history bending is used to tell a rather compelling tale I was easily persuaded to overlook details that had be intentionally changed (this ship has no purser!), and even outright but small mistakes (wrong uniforms!).



With all this focus on plot characterisation suffers somewhat. There’s some lazy stereotyping going on where the antagonists are concerned. Landry is allowed a deeper characterisation and some ambiguity about halfway through the novel, but Hart represents pretty much the worst clichés about bad navy captains rolled into one. The antagonists are also described as being far less physical attractive than the heroes, which is a tired clichés in and of itself.



Well, at least the heroes are sympathetic and active enough to earn that title and for you to be rooting for them. It is therefore easy to become invested enough in their well-being enough for the book to reveal itself to be something of a page turner – even though you will be rolling your eyes at the villains from time to time.



I was particularly happy with Hayden’s favourite middy: Lord Wickham. It is delightful to read how the boy uses himself and his own social status as a boon to protect the hero from the antagonist’s scheming. The way he keeps inserting himself into the plot sure eventually turns into something of a running joke, but the thought alone of how much consternation his actions would cause the villain had me grinning every time. Perhaps he is a bit too talented and enterprising to be entirely believable, but he’s so proactive and sympathetic you are easily lead to overlook the almost unnatural quality of his goodness.



Meanwhile Hayden himself is your standard attractive, dark and somewhat moody AoS hero: braver and more competent than his superiors, but at first hampered by his low social status. Oh, and he has mismatched eyes, for some bonus mysteriousness, like a Husky, ffs! But at least the author tries something new with him by giving him a French mother, which explains his lack of promotion and interest at least somewhat more creatively than good old corruption and nepotism on part of the administration. Plus, Hayden’s ancestry and happy French childhood provide a fine source of inner conflict that will hopefully be expanded upon in future instalments, and is a welcome change to the angst derived from the melancholic self-doubt of a Hornblower or Bolitho.



But in the end, the struggle of the gifted underdog with his hidden depths vs. his less skilled but socially more acceptable antagonist is nothing we haven’t read about a couple of dozen times before. If this series truly wishes to stand-out, like the true classics of the genre, it will have to get a tad more creative. Sympathetic characters and an exciting plot certainly make for a good novel, but not an outstanding one.



Perhaps the book also reaches a bit too deep into the salt encrusted chest of Age of Sail tropes: I’ve already mentioned the hero being more seaman-like than his antagonistic superior. In addition both the main antagonists behave cowardly and dishonourable. Well, we also have the sailing-master who immediately takes a shine to the hero, and a philosophic, educated seaman who is extremely loyal to his ship but sympathises with the ideals of the French revolution nonetheless. Also, a French signal book is captured. And finally, someone is flogged for something he didn’t do, driving the crew to the edge of mutiny. Oh, and there eventually is a mutiny, by the way! And a court martial. Though, in the book’s defence, for once it is not the hero who gets court-martialled, but basically everyone except the hero, which was quite refreshing.



As for tropes that you do not only primarily find in AoS novels, but that should certainly better not have found their way into this book: It appears like the French soldiers all learned how to shoot at the Galactic Imperial Stromtrooper Marksmanship academy. In one part of the book they hunt three of our main characters over fields and beaches for hours, shooting at them, but all they manage is lightly graze one of them. While our heroes in turn drop the soldiers like flies.



But then, the book also employs a couple of tropes I actually enjoy very much, personally, so I guess it does even out a bit. I like that the French are the enemy but not the villain of this book. They are removed from the actual conflict at the heart of the plot, they're more of an underlying threat, no more deliberately adversarial than any of the forces of nature that result in hostile winds and seas to plague the hero.



And then there’s Hayden’s sea-daddy who reminded me of Hornblower’s Captain Pellew so much I immediately fell in love with the character the first time he appeared. I love that type of character so much that I could easily ignore his magical abilities to appear just at the right moment, more than once, for him to help the hero out of some tight spot.



Truly, the book does rely a bit too much on coincidences, like Hertle and Bourne showing up at the right moment each more than once to save our hero from having to endure further indignity at the hands of Hart. These incidents almost make it look like there are no other British ships around at all. Or how about the fact that among Hayden’s prisoners there was one of a persecuted minority only too happy to betray his countrymen for the English … and yet the French captain had trusted that guy with the signal book despite his disaffection?



Another thing that I didn’t really buy is the romance. It didn’t really connect for me with the other parts of the book. Plus, I’m not an expert on courtship in the late 18th century, but the courtship and conversation between our hero and his lady didn’t read right too me. It was too uncomplicated. But that might just be the Jane Austen I’ve read speaking. This might be because the novel as a whole does not try to emulate the period like a Patrick O’Brian does. It is more modernised, the language certainly is. This is not a bad thing. I’m usually for modernising the language of historic fiction, but I usually feel that way about settings in which to write historically accurate would have meant to write a book in a different language (i. e. Old French or Middle English).



Well, we’ll see whether this will continue to bother me in the second book of the series.





Now, a lot of this sounds rather negative, but the novel is written in such a readable fashion, and fast paced -- one interesting scenes right after the other -- that you hardly think about its shortcomings while reading.



In summary, all things considered this appears to be a very promising series, and it is a comparatively new one, too! (This first novel is from 2007!). It’s more of a Lord Ramage than an Aubrey-Maturin, albeit with better characterisation! Which is alright with me, because I was just getting tired of sailing with Ramage.



I’d rate this book something between three and four stars, but will happily round up to four. This instalment certainly makes me want to check out the sequels.

