The naval routine around him was familiar as the rhythm of his breathing. But he began to dimly discern another world within it; jealousies too sharp for friendship, smiles too radiant. [loc. 1987]
1762: Lieutenant John Cavendish is awarded his first command, the Meteor (née Météore) and sent off, with an untried crew, to harry the Barbary slavers of Algiers. He hopes that his new lieutenant, Alfie Donwell, will be a reliable right-hand man.
Alfie likes the look of his new captain, and hopes that John is amenable to seduction.
All goes well (for values of ‘well’ including captivity, torture and hurt/comfort) until John realises what Alfie wants from him and storms off in a welter of moral indignation. Alfie returns to his old ship, the Britannia, and his old captain, the charismatic and thoroughly amenable Charles Farrant, Lord Lisburn. Meanwhile John agonises over Alfie’s horrific revelations. John, product of a religious upbringing, has never had any problem being chaste. He doesn’t find himself overwhelmed in ... feminine ... company ...You can see where this is going: but John’s crisis of sexuality -- his internalised homophobia, and his gradual realisation that perhaps he is not immune to Alfie’s charms -- is slow, painful and thoroughly credible for the period.
I think I was expecting something light and frothy, but this is a well-researched novel, with excellent detail on the nautical side as well as a sympathetic, but depressing, depiction of queer life around the edges of polite society. I was struck by two plot elements that one doesn't always find in m/m romance: firstly, that Alfie spends a lot of time, and experiences a fair amount of happiness, with Farrant rather than with John; and secondly, that Farrant's wife (of whom Farrant is fond and protective: 'he had been faithful in his way — taking no man to his bed for whom he cared more than he cared for Isabella') is a rounded character with agency, who interacts with the three male protagonists and affects their lives.
The author, in her afterword, says 'I owe an enormous amount of inspiration, entertainment and information to Patrick O’Brian' -- a debt I think I'd already recognised in her detailed and accurate depictions of naval battles and naval life. False Colors ranges from the Mediterranean to the Arctic via the Caribbean: it's a more serious novel than I'd expected, and less focussed on the romance between John and Alfie, but I found it an enjoyable (if not always cheerful) read.
Fulfils the 'title beginning with 'F'' rubric of the 52 books in 2022 challenge.
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