I'm on a Boat!

(Sorry, I had to.) Ahem--Don Juan, Canto II

In the first half of Canto II, Byron further develops Don Juan’s status as a mock epic and even begins to display a more cynical tone against society. There is somewhat less outright comic relief than in the first canto, and the actions of the sailors throughout the first 99 stanzas provide a stark contrast to what would normally be expected from the crew of a ship in an epic poem with heroic characters. These less-than-heroic actions are presented in a steady decline that transitions from the relatively light and comic to the gruesome.

The first clue that the crew of the Trinidad is not entirely composed of stouthearted souls who would laugh in the eye of a storm is their lack of heroism when the ship is crippled by gale-force winds. Not even any heroic deeds that might have occurred after the first gale are given much mention. Byron gives most of the credit for saving the ship to the manufacturer of the pumps, and after the second gale eliminates the rudder and the masts and sails, most of the sailors quickly try to break into the ship’s store of grog, leaving Don Juan to defend the door and keep the whole crew from rendering themselves completely useless.

Also, the ship-abandoning tactics of the sailors are not exactly epic. After failed attempts at building a raft, thirty-nine men including Don Juan and his dog and tutor save themselves by taking the longboat and cutter. Again, no mention is made of any selfless sacrifices made in deciding who would be saved and who would go down with the ship; there is no heroic embellishment. The escape of the lucky few is shown plainly as self-preservation by those who were able to secure a place for themselves in one of the smaller boats. This very unfortunate situation, in which nearly two hundred lives are lost, marks a turn toward the dark for the poem.

This darkening mood and tone get much darker when, stranded on the longboat, the sailors begin to succumb to their hunger and thirst. In a desperate and somewhat sickening grasp for survival, the crew tears up Don Juan’s love letter to use for lots to decide who will be killed and eaten first. Adding to the already gruesome scene when Pedrillo, Don Juan’s luckless tutor, is killed, the surgeon drinks his blood as his heart is still beating. Then Pedrillo is divided up among most of the men, who, after eating him, proceed to go completely insane, “tearing, and ginning, howling, screeching, swearing,” and finally dying, as if the whole episode had not been savage enough.

Byron’s depiction of these events is likely not unrealistic; it could be seen as a story of distress at sea without all the sugar-coating of classic epic poems or heroic tales of ships and their crews. He seems to criticize society’s naïve admiration and idolization of sailors, as well as their likely consideration of an event such as a storm at sea as an adventure. Because of this, it would seem, Byron is particularly attacking the British, as they have always had such pride in seafaring and admiration for their naval heroes. He presents a scenario that would likely be of especial interest to the British and completely un-romanticizes it, rubbing the ugly side of their heroic ideals in their faces.