The Venture Book • Elinor Mordaunt

Every year I look forward to the mare classics and am curious what awaits me, because the series consists of very different books—ranging from classic novels to diaries and novellas, all the way to poetry. This time it’s a travelogue, a genre that already has some excellent entries in the series with From Sea to Sea, The Innocents Abroad, or “Dangerous Work: Diary of an Arctic Adventure”. The author this time isn’t one of the very well-known writers but was completely unfamiliar to me until now. Once again, mare Verlag managed to surprise me with the book.

The Venture Book follows Elinor Mordaunt’s journey from London through the Panama Canal to Tahiti, on to Samoa, the Fiji Islands, and finally Sydney. She particularly explores the island atolls and spends a great deal of time on Tahiti, but she also describes how she reaches each island—sometimes in truly adventurous ways, as when she even signs on to a small, shabby ship just to keep to her intended route. Or when she visits remote Indigenous villages in the pouring rain. This is anything but a cushy tourist trip with maximum comfort, and Mordaunt repeatedly notes that her funds are by no means unlimited.

The book strongly reminded me of Deephaven, which has a very similar tone, and Mordaunt writes with a pleasantly light, lively style—full of esprit and openness to the world—about everything she sees and discovers. You can feel how much she loves traveling, and her descriptions are simply a joy to read. She repeatedly highlights colors, but also scents and the sea—the beautiful, wide sea—which she captures wonderfully in words. And she does so with welcome concision, so the chapters move along at an agreeable pace. She lingers at lovely places, describes striking moments, but then quickly moves on to the next experience. At 280 pages, the length is pitch-perfect.

Given this fresh, openhearted manner, I would have guessed Mordaunt was much younger when she undertook the trip. In fact, she was already over fifty, in somewhat fragile health, and had an adult son. She first published the individual chapters in the Daily News (London) as a series of articles. You can feel that in the book, and she often mentions where she is sitting and writing at that moment—which adds immediacy and which I liked very much.

Mordaunt traveled from 1923 to 1925 and thus encountered islands that were already developed to a degree, yet still largely inhabited by their original peoples. The chiefs she meets are not “uncivilized savages,” but they still carry much of their traditional way of life. What surprised me was a woman traveling alone who moved about fearlessly and freely—something that struck me as very modern and not exactly typical of the 1920s. The way she endured the hardships of an often uncomfortable journey among rough sailors, without complaining, speaks to her love of travel—and it’s entertaining to read.

Evelyn May Clowes—Elinor Mordaunt’s real name—was born in England in 1872. Her life was quite eventful: in 1898 she married and emigrated to Mauritius. After two miscarriages she separated from her husband very quickly. Shortly thereafter she emigrated to Australia and lived in Melbourne for eight years, where she had her son. There she pursued various occupations—sewing, designing fabrics and wallpapers, and writing. She published short stories and articles about recipes and kitchen tips. Later she took a well-paid job as an editor for a women’s magazine. In 1908 she returned to England and lived by her pen: travelogues, children’s books, novels, and story collections. In her day, her work was widely read; over the years she published more than fifty books and was reviewed by now-celebrated authors (Virginia Woolf and Katherine Mansfield). Today she has largely been forgotten, and this edition is the first and only translation into German.

For me, this book is yet another example of how important and valuable publishers’ work is. To discover a book like this, translate it anew, and present it so beautifully—that’s an achievement that can’t be praised enough. The hundred-thousandth new edition of Jane Austen—yes, that’s no art. But to raise a lost treasure like this—that is an accomplishment. Naturally the book fits perfectly into the mare classics series, which has stayed true to itself over the years. Once again, the reader encounters the sea—everywhere, at every turn—and when the author shares her love and longing for it, I know why I won’t be skipping any mare classic in the future.

I also want to mention the translation and afterword by Alexander Pechmann, who has translated numerous books for mare Verlag. Here, too, readers get excellent quality. I especially liked the afterword: it’s exactly what an afterword should be—concise, informative, and it addresses all the questions that occurred to me while reading (for example, how a woman could travel alone like this in the 1920s). Truly top-notch.

The physical edition has the usual, excellent mare classics quality: cloth binding, ribbon marker, and very high-grade paper. The endpapers feature a map of the route, beautifully colored and a pleasant guide that I kept referring to. The book is also thread-sewn; in my copy the sewing isn’t perfectly tidy, which looks like a one-off to me. Even with that tiny flaw, it’s sturdier and higher quality than many other books. It’s simply a lovely object in every detail—from the colors and production to the cover illustration and the typography.

Conclusion: For me, this travelogue falls squarely into the category of mental vacation. Especially if you’re sitting on the terrace in late summer, enjoying the sun with a faint breeze—just as I was while reading—you can completely sink into these tales of beautiful South Sea islands, their harmony, vivid colors, pleasant scents, and the endlessly wide sea. The chapters move at an easy pace, there’s plenty of variety, and it’s entertaining enough that it never drags. When the author tells how she signs on to a shabby schooner, or relates various encounters with locals, or toward the end recounts a shipwreck story she heard from another sailor—it’s a pleasure to read. I very much enjoyed Mordaunt’s refreshing, open manner of relaying her experiences, and once again the book’s production is perfect, leaving nothing to be desired. If you’re seized by wanderlust in the coming dark autumn and winter months, this book is just the thing.

Book information: The Venture Book • Elinor Mordaunt • mare Verlag • 288 pages • ISBN 9783866486652