Scotland has its rugged Hebrides; Ireland its cliff-girt Arans; Wales its Island of Twenty Thousand Saints. And what has England got? The isles of Canvey, Sheppey, Wight and Dogs, Mersea, Brownsea, Foulness and Rat. But there are also wilder, rockier places – Lundy, the Scillies, the Farnes. These islands and their inhabitants not only cast varied lights on the mainland, they also possess their own peculiar stories, from the Barbary slavers who once occupied Lundy, to the ex-major who seized a wartime fort in the North Sea and declared himself Prince of Sealand. Ian Crofton embarks on a personal odyssey to a number of the islands encircling England, exploring how some were places of refuge or holiness, while others have been turned into personal fiefdoms by their owners, or become locations for prisons, rubbish dumps and military installations. He also describes the varied ways in which England's islands have been formed, and how they are constantly changing, so making a mockery of human claims to sovereignty.
I enjoyed this book which, despite how many similar books I've read, provided few winces at hackneyed experiences or writing (there is a bit of the moaning about National Trust and English Heritage entrance fees, and the distaste for interpretation boards). There's a light touch with the personal, but I found it quite moving. He picks up the planned project at the urging of a clinician as he works to accommodate and recover from the effects of a brain injury. There is thus little muscular or intrepid (although there is a seriously hairy climb on Lundy and he's clearly returned to climbing as a hobby, despite his enduring visual issues as a result of falling on his head) He mooches around, interested in people, and history and geography and change. I particularly enjoyed his reflections in the afterword.
I saw this book in a local bookshop and being something of a fan of books about British islands was keen to read it.
In my view it's a bit of a curate's egg. Most (all?) chapters start with some history. I think it would work better if the history was woven into the main narrative more.
Some of the writing is very well observed, and some of it isn't. In many chapters Ian tries for an appropriately literary conclusion, and it generally doesn't quite work.
Overall I find it hard to summarise quite why this didn't hit the heights for me, but there's still plenty in here to make it a worthwhile read for anyone interested in the subject matter.
While this book does well to wind up the clowns who wave the St George’s cross nowadays which is very entertaining, it is, at the crux of it, a travel history book. Some of the islands are interesting, others I should have skipped through. The book serves it purpose but I don’t think it’s convinced me to travel to any of these places, I’d still probably choose Scotland any day of the week. The lack of Viking mentions was also criminal to me.
I really enjoyed this. Fascinating insights into the islands around England we know from the shipping forecast and other gems. Each has its distinct character from the Thames and Medway to the Scillies and Farnes - history, language and personality.