Diary extracts from: The Life and Strangely Romantic Adventures of a man called Rusoe

FIRST FEW DAYS

This is the first entry to my rescued journal I may make. Whilst on the voyage to the Caribbs, a terrible storm blew upon us, and within not much time has wrecked us. Such length on the waves accustomed me to the violent outbursts of ocean upon our vessel; however this one caused me perhaps more fright than any other, showing to some degree the peril which we were in. I have been thrown upon an island, deserted by all first appearances. Of the rest of the crew there is little sign, for it was with great fortune that I have been saved from the skeleton of the ship. Fortune smiled again on my poor being as our vessel is not out of reach of a swim and therefore I have been able to recover items. This is why I may have rescued the pen and ink and waited a day in the rather disagreeable stifling climate for it to dry in order to make these entries.

But forgive me; I have gotten ahead of myself. For the finder of these scribblings, my name is Rusoe, the spelling owing to the English cheapening of a great Swiss name. I can forgive it. This name alone for now is enough.

I find it strange that nature should find that I, a reluctant traveller, may first see good to destroy our ocean carriage and then let it be myself who was saved from the wreck. One mustn’t read too much into these events however, for they happen for little or perhaps unknown reasons. This is the fate I must now accept, and make good of.

Time here I must not view as time in waste, the marvel that surrounds me is a fit grave at worst. I have ventured little for now, though I would much like to, but I must hold back in order to attend to issues that foremost concern my survival.

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Now an educated man may feel inferior to the savage and simple primal man, for nature frustrates every attempt of mine at fire and it had better not be too long before I discover how I may keep myself warm and also to make food, biscuit cannot sustain for long. I am endeavouring to make peace with the island and my unfortunate situation. I have at least made a spear of flint and must learn to be as the native and hunt for food. The liberty of not having to adhere to dress codes or rigorous formalities one encounters and must endure at all times at home is a circumstance which suits me greatly and I thrive upon. I discard more and more of my clothes though I must be careful to not be too bared in this overbearing sun. The look of browning skin is not, as it is in Europe, unpleasant to me.

My musings and writings on the concerns of society are here lost, worthless, like the money I left onboard the ship to become the bed to the ocean so vast. I find myself on a comparatively small island and yet it overwhelms me. Meanwhile across the fierce and unforgiving oceans many people, in any shape or form busy about their lives, and we who are privileged sit behind locked door with quill and comment on what we have never seen nor experienced. It is a wonder that we can so assuredly and confidently write in our states of isolation quite how the world must work. It seems to me now, one can know very little.

FOOTPRINT

What a discovery! This very morning, upon the beach which I have become so very fond of, where I have spent much time gazing out to sea to excite my imagination as to the people and cultures that play out existence beyond my knowing, I looked down before me and found a footprint. I did not start until I broke from my fantasy into what this actually means. I quickly tried to rationalize and assure myself that it must have been my own foot. But upon reflection, I concluded, it could not be mine. This excited all manner of hopes and fears; however, I soon decided this could only be a good thing, for company was something I yearned for, be it in whichever form nature produced. Certainly, the desire for the feminine companion is a desire I envision and near believe in my moments of complete disorientation, it is perhaps false however that the heat in this intensity so increases the sexual desires of a creature, for it only makes myself feel rather sluggish and good for little.

But the footprint! How I have thoroughly tired myself of trying to imagine the person to whom it belonged, I assume a male and I have guessed it Native for it was bare. Although the dangers confront me and upon occasions torment me, the excitement of company far outweighs it all. I have been here too long alone, in the company of my own thoughts and God. I am of course, defenceless if the foot and form behind the imprint return and mean harm. My shelter in the clearing is remarkably open and is only slightly raised to avoid nightly disturbance. However, I have quick wit, innocence and willingness to learn that this man or men may find pleasing and good may result.

Footprint, you speak to me of hope. To converse! How I long.

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Today, I have begun a new journey on this beautiful island. It was as I was strolling through a particular favourite part of this island beneath a tree with the juicy fruit I so enjoy I spotted through the trees movement! It seems a group of natives it seems had gathered in boats and were causing something of a stir of which I understood little. I was stuck between paralysing fears; I am vulnerable and very inexperienced in dealing with the Negro, and ecstasy; for the company of people, whoever they may be is something I have yearned for. However, I let my curiosity command my actions and I resolved to go down and risk death or any other torture for the chance of escape or companionship. In trembling fear I approached and in a matter of desperate and chaotic moments they dispersed leaving behind one of their group number who remained face down and hands tied. It is now I can be grateful for the gift upon which fortune has given me, for though afraid and quite alarmed I untied the fellow who eyed me always with suspicion. But it seems that when a man shows trust it is most often trust he receives, and so a new chapter begins.

THE NATIVE

The years have been long and hard and yet I have fallen in love with the island upon which fate or fortune landed me upon. It seems nature is plentiful and abounding and we can taste only our due, we cannot hope to own or conquer all we meet but greet with smile a new experience. However the days upon this island may soon be over, a boat is being crafted that should take us to an island or mainland. My companion and I have struck up rather a strong friendship and accordingly vision. He refers to me by the name “Obroni” or Rusoe, though it is unlike any other pronunciation of my name I have previously encountered. I call him ­­“Coffee” for two reasons; in trying to decipher names he made a sound very much like this, though I have no doubt it is spelled differently and means something quite profound in his society, my pronunciation, no doubt is as crudely formed as his attempt at calling me by my name. The second reason for his name, which sits comfortably with me as coincidence is the coffee colour of his skin.  I have picked up few words which he speaks and he has picked up some of mine.

His presence has brought me much joy and I find times of inward reflecting are no longer in clouds so that I may pick down thoughts as they come but are tethered to an experienced reality of understanding. He has given me much food for thought in regard to the native and his ways. His skin is dark and his clothing crude yet we have a bond by which we can recognise ourselves in each other’s person, and I use the term person with the full impact, that my native companion is in the fullest terms a person. It is, in fact, in this Negro that I have discovered something of that innate goodness and innocence I have so often speculated upon and found little in any other being than children. He, like an animal has his survival worked out, there is a certain peace and sublime serenity that I have sought for so long that he seems to have without even being aware. There is envy in me for his childlikeness and the quality of what I have previously heard referred to as “the noble savage”.  Where the European walks in amour-propre, a proud and self-reliant, and ultimately false walk in pride, Coffee is happy in native ignorance and bliss, that of amour-de-soi.  It is something I greatly value him for.  

Our work is fruitful and even enjoyable, we have planned that in three months we may be able to embark on our voyage of escape. I am excitedly expectant as to what we may find as I am in no hurry to return to Europe, indeed, I have little in way of money, property or security to return to. Though perhaps these experiences may give my writings some weight and the European mind may find some expansion and hope in my journey.