Some books become classics for a reason. Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe is one of them. The actual title of Defoe’s book is The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, Mariner. The wordiness of the title on the cover is an indication of the story that lies beneath. Defoe’s writing is filled with long, cumbersome sentences that are delightfully layered with meaning and content.

Robinson Crusoe was first published in 1719, yet it feels relevant and fresh even in the light of the 21st century. Nearly three hundred years after it was written, Robinson Crusoe has a timeless quality that transcends the conventions of the era.

I was surprised to find, on reading this classic for the first time, that Crusoe did not become shipwrecked until the fourth chapter, or perhaps I should say more accurately that he did not suffer the shipwreck for which his story is so well known until the fourth chapter, that being actually his second shipwrecking of the novel. I confess that I am quite unable to do justice to Defoe’s distinctive writing style, but herein I am attempting to do so, filling each sentence with layers, and not only just layers, but also often contradictions, or seeming contradictions.

My high school English teacher would have emptied her red pen circling all the commas if I turned in sentences like Defoe’s. But in this book, it just works. Robinson Crusoe is an absolutely fabulous read. The story is written in the first person, as if the fictional Crusoe were relating his tale at a later point in his life.
Why every attempt to turn this book into a film has been a disastrous failure I do not know. Perhaps it is because the excellence of the book lies more in Defoe’s style than in the actual story. Page after page is devoted to such mundane details as the list of items Crusoe retrieves from the ship, but I never felt a lull, never desired to push through to the next exciting moment. In truth, there are scarcely any nail-biting moments right up until chapter 13, when the cannibals arrive. But every page is a joy for the reader who appreciates the innate beauty of language.

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