Treasure Island

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Press:Trafalgar Square Books Palazzo Editions (September 1, 2006)
ISBN:9780954510367
Author Name:Stevenson, Robert Louis/ Ingpen, Robert R. (ILT)
Pages:192
Language:English

Content

When an old sea captain arrives at the Admiral Benbow inn, with a mysterious sea chest and fearful talk of a man with one leg, the scene is set for one of the most popular adventure stories of all time. 
Robert Louis Stevenson described Treasure Island as “a book about a map, a treasure, and a mutiny, and a derelict ship, and a fine old Squire Trelawney, and a doctor, and a sea-cook with one leg…” It is that and much more.
The characters, from young Jim Hawkins to Long John Silver, have become embedded in popular imagination, and Stevenson’s swashbuckling tale of heroes and villains remains one of the best-loved and most widely read classics of all time.
Robert Ingpen, winner of the Hans Christian Andersen Medal, has set his imagination loose on this breathtaking adventure, bringing to life as never before these unforgettable characters and their thrilling escapades.

From School Library Journal

Gr 7 Up-The archetypal sea-faring adventure story is given another rousing and dramatic rendition in this quickly paced abridged entry in Hodder's top-flight Classic Collection series. 
The critical plot and subplot threads have been beautifully retained, and all the classic lines like "shiver me timbers" have been included.
Stalwart English actor Richard Griffiths handles the bulk of the narrative chores flawlessly and is particularly effective in his pacing.
He is capably assisted by Gareth Armstrong who, inexplicably, is uncredited on the cassette case.
The subtle use of occasional sound effects such as gulls, lapping waves, and cannon and gunshot enhances this superb version of Stevenson's masterpiece.
All collections should make room for this fine work.Barry X.
Miller, Austin Public Library, TXCopyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

From Booklist

Gr. 
5-9.
This is one of the best in the picture-book-size Scribner Storybook Classic series.
True to the spirit of Stevenson's timeless novel, Timothy Meis' abridged retelling captures the bloody action of mutiny on the high seas and the cutthroat quest for hidden treasure.
The story is told through the eyes of brave cabin boy Jim, who fights off the murderous pirates and bonds with their one-legged leader, Long John Silver.
Wyeth's thrilling, handsomely reproduced paintings, originally done in 1911, will attract a variety of readers, including some older high-schoolers.
In dark shades of brown and red, the pictures focus on the grim, exciting struggle on board the ship and on the island.
At the same time, there's a burning golden glow in the background of almost every scene, keeping readers in mind of the treasure that drives the wild action.
The most unforgettable painting--and one of Wyeth's most famous--is the melancholy scene of Jim leaving home as his mother weeps in the background.
It's the elemental adventure.
Hazel RochmanCopyright © American Library Association.
All rights reserved

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

Review

"In Treasure Island, Stevenson wrote one of the great books of all time, an enduring masterpiece. 
.
.
.
No edition has ever been better illustrated than this.
Ingpen’s drawings are utterly compelling."  —Michael Morpurgo, author,Kensuke's Kingdom

Book Description

Cambridge Literature is a series of literary texts edited for study by students aged 14-18 in English-speaking classrooms. 
It will include novels, poetry, short stories, essays, travel-writing and other non-fiction.
The series will be extensive and open-ended and will provide school students with a range of edited texts taken from a wide geographical spread.

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

From the Publisher

7 1-hour cassettes

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

From the Inside Flap

Robert Louis Stevenson's cherished, unforgettable adventure magically captures the thrill of a sea voyage and a treasure hunt through the eyes of its teenage protagonist, Jim Hawkins. 
Crossing the Atlantic in search of the buried cache, Jim and the ship's crew must brave the elements and a mutinous charge led by the quintessentially ruthless pirate Long John Silver.
Brilliantly conceived and splendidly executed, it is a novel that has seized the imagination of generations of adults and children alike.
And as David Cordingly points out in his Introduction, Treasure Island is also the best and most influential of all the stories about pirates.

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

From the Back Cover

"Over Treasure Island I let my fire die in winter without knowing I was freezing."

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

About the Author

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-94) was born in Edinburgh, Scotland. 
He studied law but preferred writing and in 1881 was inspired by his stepson to write Treasure Island.
Other famous adventure stories followed including Kidnapped, as well as the famous collection of poems for children, A Child's Garden of Verses.
Robert Louis Stevenson is buried on the island of Samoa.

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter IThe Old Sea Dog at the "Admiral Benbow"Squire Trelawney, Dr. 
Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17-, and go back to the time when my father kept the "Admiral Benbow" inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow; a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man; his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulders of his soiled blue coat; his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails; and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white.
I remember him looking round the cove and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards:-"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest-Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars.
Then he rapped on the door with a bit of stick like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared, called roughly for a glass of rum.
This, when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste, and still looking about him at the cliffs and up at our signboard."This is a handy cove," says he, at length; "and a pleasant sittyated grog-shop.
Much company, mate?"My father told him no, very little company, the more was the pity."Well, then," said he, "this is the berth for me.
Here you, matey," he cried to the man who trundled the barrow; "bring up alongside and help up my chest.
I'll stay here a bit," he continued.
"I'm a plain man; rum and bacon and eggs is what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off.
What you mought call me? You mought call me captain.
Oh, I see what you're at-there;" and he threw down three or four gold pieces on the threshold.
"You can tell me when I've worked through that," says he, looking as fierce as a commander.And, indeed, bad as his clothes were, and coarsely as he spoke, he had none of the appearance of a man who sailed before the mast; but seemed like a mate or skipper, accustomed to be obeyed or to strike.
The man who came with the barrow told us the mail had set him down the morning before at the "Royal George;" that he had inquired what inns there were along the coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and described as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place of residence.
And that was all we could learn of our guest.He was a very silent man by custom.
All day he hung round the cove, or upon the cliffs, with a brass telescope; all evening he sat in a corner of the parlour next the fire, and drank rum and water very strong.
Mostly he would not speak when spoken to; only look up sudden and fierce, and blow through his nose like a fog-horn; and we and the people who came about our house soon learned to let him be.
Every day, when he came back from his stroll, he would ask if any seafaring men had gone by along the road? At first we thought it was the want of company of his own kind that made him ask this question; but at last we began to see he was desirous to avoid them.
When a seaman put up at the "Admiral Benbow" (as now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol), he would look in at him through the curtained door before he entered the parlour; and he was always sure to be as silent as a mouse when any such was present.
For me, at least, there was no secret about the matter; for I was, in a way, a sharer in his alarms.
He had taken me aside one day, and promised me a silver fourpenny on the first of every month if I would only keep my "weather-eye open for a seafaring man with one leg," and let him know the moment he appeared.
Often enough, when the first of the month came round, and I applied to him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at me, and stare me down; but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it, bring me my fourpenny piece, and repeat his orders to look out for "the seafaring man with one leg."How that personage haunted my dreams, I need scarcely tell you.
On stormy nights, when the wind shook the four corners of the house, and the surf roared along the cove and up the cliffs, I would see him in a thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical expressions.
Now the leg would be cut off at the knee, now at the hip; now he was a monstrous kind of a creature who had never had but the one leg, and that in the middle of his body.
To see him leap and run and pursue me over hedge and ditch was the worst of nightmares.
And altogether I paid pretty dear for my monthly fourpenny piece, in the shape of these abominable fancies.But though I was so terrified by the idea of the seafaring man with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than anybody else who knew him.
There were nights when he took a deal more rum and water than his head would carry; and then he would sometimes sit and sing his wicked, old, wild sea-songs, minding nobody; but sometimes he would call for glasses round, and force all the trembling company to listen to his stories or bear a chorus to his singing.
Often I have heard the house shaking with "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum;" all the neighbours joining in for dear life, with the fear of death upon them, and each singing louder than the other, to avoid remark.
For in these fits he was the most over-riding companion ever known; he would slap his hand on the table for silence all round; he would fly up in a passion of anger at a question, or sometimes because none was put, and so he judged the company was not following his story.
Nor would he allow any one to leave the inn till he had drunk himself sleepy and reeled off to bed.His stories were what frightened people worst of all.
Dreadful stories they were; about hanging, and walking the plank, and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds and places on the Spanish Main.
By his own account he must have lived his life among some of the wickedest men that God ever allowed upon the sea; and the language in which he told these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much as the crimes that he described.
My father was always saying the inn would be ruined, for people would soon cease coming there to be tyrannised over and put down, and sent shivering to their beds; but I really believe his presence did us good.
People were frightened at the time, but on looking back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life; and there was even a party of the younger men who pretended to admire him, calling him a "true sea-dog," and a "real old salt," and such like names, and saying there was the sort of man that made England terrible at sea.In one way, indeed, he bade fair to ruin us; for he kept on staying week after week, and at last month after month, so that all the money had been long exhausted, and still my father never plucked up the heart to insist on having more.
If ever he mentioned it, the captain blew through his nose so loudly, that you might say he roared, and stared my poor father out of the room.
I have seen him wringing his hands after such a rebuff, and I am sure the annoyance and the terror he lived in must have greatly hastened his early and unhappy death.All the time he lived with us the captain made no change whatever in his dress but to buy some stockings from a hawker.
One of the cocks of his hat having fallen down, he let it hang from that day forth, though it was a great annoyance when it blew.
I remember the appearance of his coat, which he patched himself up-stairs in his room, and which, before the end, was nothing but patches.
He never wrote or received a letter, and he never spoke with any but the neighbours, and with these, for the most part, only when drunk on rum.
The great sea-chest none of us had ever seen open.He was only once crossed, and that was towards the end, when my poor father was far gone in a decline that took him off.
Dr.
Livesey came late one afternoon to see the patient, took a bit of dinner from my mother, and went into the parlour to smoke a pipe until his horse should come down from the hamlet, for we had no stabling at the old "Benbow." I followed him in, and I remember observing the contrast the neat, bright doctor, with his powder as white as snow, and his bright, black eyes and pleasant manners, made with the coltish country folk, and above all, with that filthy, heavy, bleared scarecrow of a pirate of ours, sitting far gone in rum, with his arms on the table.
Suddenly he-the captain, that is-began to pipe up his eternal song:-"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest-Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!Drink and the devil had done for the rest-Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"At first I had supposed "the dead man's chest" to be that identical big box of his up-stairs in the front room, and the thought had been mingled in my nightmares with that of the one-legged seafaring man.
But by this time we had all long ceased to pay any particular notice to the song; it was new, that night, to nobody but Dr.
Livesey, and on him I observed it did not produce an agreeable effect, for he looked up for a moment quite angrily before he went on with his talk to old Taylor, the gardener, on a new cure for the rheumatics.
In the meantime, the captain gradually brightened up at his own music, and at last flapped his hand upon the table before him in a way we all knew to mean-silence.
The voices stopped at once, all but Dr.
Livesey's; he went on as before, speaking clear and kind, and drawing briskly at his pipe between every word or two.
The captain glared at him for a while, flapped his hand again, glared still harder, and at last broke out with a villainous, low oath: "Silence, there, between decks!""Were you addressing me, sir?" says the doctor; and when the ruffian had told him, with another oath, that this was so, "I have only one thing to say to you, sir," replies the doctor, "that if you keep on drinking rum, the world will soon be quit of a very dirty scoundrel!"The old fellow's fury was awful.
He sprang to his feet, drew and opened a sailor's clasp-knife, and, balancing it open on the palm of his hand, threatened to pin the doctor to the wall.The doctor never so much as moved.
He spoke to him, as before, over his shoulder, and in the same tone of voice; rather high, so that all the room might hear, but perfectly calm and steady:-"If you do not put that knife this instant in your pocket, I promise, upon my honour, you shall hang at the next assizes."Then followed a battle of looks between them; but the captain soon knuckled under, put up his weapon, and resumed his seat, grumbling like a beaten dog."And now, sir," continued the doctor, "since I now know there's such a fellow in my district, you may count I'll have an eye upon you day and night.
I'm not a doctor only; I'm a magistrate; and if I catch a breath of complaint against you, if it's only for a piece of incivility like to-night's, I'll take effectual means to have you hunted down and routed out of this.
Let that suffice."Soon after Dr.
Livesey's horse came to the door, and he rode away; but the captain held his peace that evening, and for many evenings to come.chapter IIBlack Dog Appearsand DisappearsIt was not very long after this that there occurred the first of the mysterious events that rid us at last of the captain, though not, as you will see, of his affairs.
It was a bitter cold winter, with long, hard frosts and heavy gales; and it was plain from the first that my poor father was little likely to see the spring.
He sank daily, and my mother and I had all the inn upon our hands; and were kept busy enough, without paying much regard to our unpleasant guest.It was one January morning, very early-a pinching, frosty morning-the cove all grey with hoar-frost, the ripple lapping softly on the stones, the sun still low and only touching the hilltops and shining far to seaward.
The captain had risen earlier than usual, and set out down the beach, his cutlass swinging under the broad skirts of the old blue coat, his brass telescope under his arm, his hat tilted back upon his head.
I remember his breath hanging like smoke in his wake as he strode off, and the last sound I heard of him, as he turned the big rock, was a loud snort of indignation, as though his mind was still running upon Dr.
Livesey.Well, mother was up-stairs with father; and I was laying the breakfast-table against the captain's return, when the parlour door opened, and a man stepped in on whom I had never set my eyes before.
He was a pale, tallowy creature, wanting two fingers of the left hand; and, though he wore a cutlass, he did not look much like a fighter.
I had always my eye open for seafaring men, with one leg or two, and I remember this one puzzled me.
He was not sailorly, and yet he had a smack of the sea about him too.

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

From AudioFile

Take a well-read classic filled with larger-than-life characters and pair it with a master narrator. 
Voil--youve got a brand-new classic.
Alfred Molinas narration is like pulling up a chair next to a fire on a chilly night and being chilled all over again by Stevensons tale of piracy on the high seas.
Molinas portrayals are perfection.
Hes a careful observer in his depiction of young Jim Hawkins and just as easily becomes mild-mannered Dr.
Livesey, blustery Squire Trelawney, and unctuous, rebellious Long John Silver.
Nonstop action and suspense make this a perfect listen for all family members, who may begin to chime in with the many yo-ho-hos.
S.W.
Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award, AudioFile Best Audiobook of 2007 © AudioFile 2007, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine

--This text refers to the Paperback edition.

Tags

Children's Books,Classics,Action & Adventure,Literature & Fiction



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Comment List (Total:14)

  •     Read it as a boy. Acted the part of Long John Silver when I was in the 5th grade play. Now, at age 81, I enjoyed re-reading it and reminiscing
  •     My recent read of The Brethren PrinceThe Brethren Prince: Piracy, Revenge, and the Culture Clash of the Old Caribbeangot me thinking of Treasure Island, which I had read 45+ years ago, as a boy. I decided it was time to give the book a second look. I enjoyed it. 'Twas easy to see, written as it was, from young Jim Hawkin's perspective, how this was a book tailored to boys. Of course, Jim sure had a lot of good luck, to make it through the entire (mis)adventure. Some of that luck, and a few actions of characters, were far-fetched enough that I can not award a full five stars for this literary classic.I remembered little of this story, from my earlier read. The old style language would have been pretty difficult for a typical, young baby boomer -- and, I expect I had gone through some segments with only a general idea of what was happening. Perhaps my book had had a bit of glossary, as another recent reader recalled from his childhood reading. It would be a good book to read along with a young person, to explain terms and quaint language, and to look up items, together.As a viewer of Black Sails, I noted that three of the characters in the series were lifted from Treasure Island, as a bit of Googling confirmed that, indeed, they are fictional: Billy Bones, John Silver, Captain Flint.
  •     This and Kidnapped (Kidnaped?) are two great classics by RLS. These are recommended reading for anyone from 8 to 88.
  •     I did not like any of it it was a waste of my time.P.S definetly do not read at all
  •     It's a classic for heavens sake.
  •     Not as complex as all the stories and films it has spawned, but an excellent read. The audio on this version is superb- a truly magnificent performance.
  •     I read this book as a child and decided to re-read it as an adult to see if my perspective changed. It didn't.
  •     I've read this book 4 or 5 times. It's always entertaining and does exactly what a good work of fiction is supposed to, transport you to another world and make it yours.
  •     The book itself is great but make sure you get the right copy. I ended up get a bad one first, which wasn't a huge deal cause it was very cheap but the book was highly edited and I think rewritten in order to be easily understood by mondern kids. I think I am reviewing the good version, which my 10 year old had no problem understanding and had two different set of pictures from early publications of the book.
  •     Yes
  •     I read this as a child but had forgotten a lot of it, so I bought it again to read at the beach and enjoyed every moment of it. It's a classic, what else can you say...
  •     A good reread. Especially after finishing Black sails on Starz!
  •     Treasure Island was written 130 years ago and it remains one of the great adventure tales of all time. I originally read it when I was about ten years old and, fifty years later, I recently re-read it in the Kindle edition. The fact that the book brings as much pleasure now as it did then is an indication of how good it really is. Stevenson truly hit the ball out of the park with this one.Much has been remarked in many of these critiques about the outdated language Stevenson used. In that regard, I have to say that the Kindle edition that I downloaded lacks one thing that was included in my old printed edition, which was published by MacMillan way back in 1924. The old edition has a set of notes following the text, explaining a lot of the nautical terms and old-fashioned jargon. It even includes the complete lyrics to "A Bottle of Rum". I never found those notes necessary but they might prove useful to some of the younger readers, to whom such language might be unfamiliar. Personally, I think the language is part of what has given this tale it's lasting appeal. In addition, I don't know whether 18th Century pirates really spoke the way Stevenson has them speak in Treasure Island, but there is no doubt that it is the way they will forever be remembered, "...and ye may lay to that, Matey"!
  •     Treasure Island is a great read. This digital version is not the one I recommend. It’s only 122 pages long versus 273 pages in the hardcover version I have from Atheneum Books for Young Readers. I highly recommend the Atheneum hardcover version. It’s the best version of Treasure Island I’ve ever found, and has over a dozen beautiful illustrations, great for readers of any age.The story is told first person, past tense, from the young protagonist’s (Jim Hawkins) point of view, except for three chapters which are from the doctor’s POV. Like other children’s books with great artwork, such as Beatrix Potter The Complete Tales, Dinotopia, Winnie The Pooh The Complete Tales, Watership Down, and The Wind In The Willows, the color illustrations in the Atheneum hardcover version really enhance the storytelling.I’ve been rereading some of my favorite children’s stories that I read during my preteen and teen years. As a middle-aged guy I enjoyed revisiting Beatrix Potter The Complete Tales, Charlotte’s Web, Winnie the Pooh The Complete Tales, Treasure Island, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz, Watership Down and The Wind in the Willows as much, maybe even more, than I did as a kid. All classics.I’d shelve Dinotopia and the first Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, with this group of classic children’s stories too.Normally I’m a sampler. I haven’t seen any of the movies from the following series, but I did read the first books, Twilight, Outlander, Fifty Shades of Grey, Divergent, etc. I sample a lot of first books, but I don’t read many complete series. The Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins, and The Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) series by George Martin are a couple of exceptions.Other sci-fi and fantasy authors I like include Douglas Adams, Isaac Asimov, Paolo Bacigalupi, Jack Campbell, Arthur C. Clarke, Earnest Cline, Abe Evergreen, Robert A. Heinlein, Hugh Howey, Larry Niven, Patrick Rothfuss, Brandon Sanderson, John Scalzi, J.R.R. Tolkien and Andy Weir.

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