Will you look at the man? He's a Freudian delight; he crawls with clues!

As I re-read, 'The Caine Mutiny,' as I do sometimes two or three times a year, I am often struck by how much I identify with one of the characters.  I did so before I joined the Navy, have done so for the nearly 34 years I've been in the Navy, and probably will do so long after I am retired from the Navy.  Oddly, it isn't Willie, nor is it Maryk.  I actually identify with Queeg.  Funny, how a literary character can have such an impact.  My 9th grade English teacher, Mrs. O'doan, once told me (when I commented on how much I enjoyed Mr. Wouk's work)  that she didn't think much of his work because the characters in his books lack depth. I didn't agree then, and I agree even less so now.  Every time I read the book, I find different and new things.  I see the characters and their actions in new ways.  Part of this, I am sure, is that as we age, our perspectives change and such.  But to my mind, this experience is more a case of well written characters, written by a master who had embued the characters with shades of colors that, like an old, oriental rug, which changes color and becomes more exquisite and beautiful, even as it fades.  I often find myself using Queeg as a prism through which I see both the good and bad qualities of my character.  Like him, I am short and pot-bellied, though I have a full head of dark hair.  I suffer from anxiety, which manifests itself as irritation.  I am shy and awkward around strangers. Those are some of the bad qualities.  The good:  I believe in service.  I try to do things right.  The Navy is one of the most important things in my life.  I don’t think I’d be able to experience this phenomena, if not for how multi-layered and deep is the Queeq character.  I’ve read almost all of Mr. Wouk’s works of fiction.  In each I have found the sense of place and time compelling.  When I read the book, I can smell the rotting potatoes, I can feel the quiver of the old ship when she crashes into the dock in Oakland., I am transported to the Clip Shack.  Having always had a fascination for Four-pipers (and their various permutations), I almost feel as though I’ve been aboard one.  I went recently to a WWII veterans reunion for a group of APD veterans (APD’s being one of the permutations through which the four-pipers went, though one focused on troop transport, not mine sweeping).  The old salts were all shocked that a young buck (compared to them) like me would attend.  Having read the book so many times, the description of life aboard the rusty, old Caine, so vividly described, as I listened to their stories, it was like I had been right there with them.  Is the book perfect, perhaps not.  Do I have some nagging questions, yes  (for example, how can Queeq be so much older than the members of his wardroom, when he only graduated from USNA in 1936?  In 1944, with only 8 years of service, how can he be so wizened an old LCDR?) .  But do I feel transported back to a time and place I can only imagine?  Yes. And isn’t that one of the most important things a well-written book does for the reader?  Yes.

Once of my most prized possessions is a first addition of, ‘The Caine Mutiny,’ signed by Mr. Wouk.  It is probably the closest I’ll ever come to meeting him.  It is prominently displayed in my living room.  I point it out whenever I have guests. Ooops, I am starting to sound like a gushing school girl, which I’ve tried to avoid.  So as not to ruin my strict military officer personae, I’ll stop and just say, “That Herman Wouk, he sure writes great books, dang great books.”

At least, that is what THIS DADDY thinks.

Trailer for 'The Caine Mutiny' directed by Edward Dmytryk. 1954.