Had this book on loan and decided to read it while recuperating from surgery to correct a deviated septum. I wanted something that I could read for long stretches without brain fatigue. My expectations were not that high—the fancy cover graphics and dramatic title suggested something designed to appeal to college students. Something epic and mythical—like Game of Thrones, maybe, but in a single volume.
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The jacket copy for this book makes it sound like a cross between Moby Dick and Hawaii, with a bit of Treasure Island thrown in. It’s a Danish novel that covers a hundred years (1845 - 1945) in the history of Marstal, Denmark, a real town that was at one time famed for sleek fast sailing vessels that quickly conveyed goods around the world—the FedEx of the 19th century. Today it’s mostly a well-preserved tourist destination—Rick Steves is a big fan.
The book is written in the collective first person (the “We” of the title) so the town could be said to be the narrator, or rather We, the Drowned could be said to be the autobiography of Marstal. The focus of the narrative passes from a mid-19th-century sailor to his son to that son’s stepson. It gives us wars, around-the-world journeys, fortunes made and lost, and even a murder or two. The author might have had One Hundred Years of Solitude in the back of his mind.
It’s a commendable work, full of incident and color, though it does get repetitious at times and can drag in spots—the author has a tendency to identify with his characters in a self-indulgent way. Also, the book has a kind of “tall tale” feel to it—for example, characters reappear by fantastic coincidence on a regular basis. Somehow, the author’s historical mission—to write the real life history of Marstal—doesn’t quite meld with his penchant for the fantastic. The result is sort of the literary equivalent of a Johnny Depp movie. Which is what I might have been watching if I hadn’t been reading this book.
