“The Memoirs of Christopher Columbus”, with Stephen Marlowe

 

569 pages, Cape, Jonathan, ISBN-13: 978-0224024136

Why is it that some books go out of print while others just stick around and around forever and ever like chewing gum in your intestinal track? WELL? Sorry. The Memoirs of Christopher Columbus with Stephen Marlowe (notice that “with”? As if Marlowe had merely transcribed Columbus’ memoirs) was perhaps assumed to be but a dry history of the Admiral of the Ocean Sea’s life and times, but it is, in fact, an historical fresco of a novel that is a…history of the Admiral of the Ocean Sea’s life and times.

But encompassed within this “autobiography” is so much more than just the tale of this man’s life, for one will find a biting satire of the times, not only in the 15^th and 16^th Centuries, but the modern world, as well (circa 1987, that is). One gets a taste of this from the very start of the book, as Marlowe (Columbus?) mines great bitter potential from the persistent rumors that the Columbus was the son of “Marranos” (Spanish Jews who were forcibly converted to Christianity), his father being ineffectual and his mother overpowering.

To circle back to my original point, it is unfortunate that this book didn’t find more traction as it is quite simply a joy to read and reread. We watch as Columbus lives his tragicomical life, follows his dreams and pursues his passions from birth to death. It’s all here, told by the man himself (wink wink): success and failure, voyages and affairs, highs and lows. It is to Marlowe’s great credit that these fake memoirs contain a lot of historical fact and cover a lot of detail, so much so that they almost serve as an alternative to a real, proper biography.

Almost, as it isn’t perfect, filled as it is with several postmodern anachronisms and literary novelties, such as Columbus mocking his modern-day biographers and their liberal presumptions (enjoyable as it was). But these Memoirs also offers a look into the Renaissance World, filled with the thrills of discovering new lands combined with the horrors of slavery; of descriptions of glittering courts and the trials of the Spanish Inquisition. There is good and bad to be found everywhere and across all ages, something that our woke snowflakes apparently can’t comprehend.

The Memoirs of Christopher Columbus accomplishes what all great historical fiction should do: gives insights into a man and a world that is in many ways lost to us through a medium that allows for more fanciful and introspective exploration. Bravo, Marlowe. Bravo.