Losing Nelson
by Barry Unsworth
Doubleday

Lord Horatio Nelson is, with little argument, the greatest figure in British naval history. The admiral who finally defeated Napoleon at Trafalgar (losing his own life in the process) is a hero to many Brits, but to Charles Cleasby, the protaganist of "Losing Nelson," he is something more: Nelson's life is Cleasby's obsession, and the single shining spot of emotional terrain in a psychological landscape that is both shadowy and damaged.

Charles Cleasby finds that his life's mission is to clear Nelson of atrocities he may or may not have committed in Naples. In doing so, Cleasby finds that Nelson's strong, iconic personality serves as a beacon of support and strength for his own otherwise lonely and frightened existence.

But as the book progresses, and Cleasby becomes increasingly desperate to uncover evidence that may not exist, the obsession grows and begins to progress toward a point of no return.

Lord Horatio Nelson (left) and friends explore the high seas. Ahoy there! Look out for small airborne bits of human skull!

The publicity for "Losing Nelson" comments that "something has to give, and give it does — in the most astonishing and entertaining of ways." This is not entirely accurate. Something does indeed give in Charles Cleasby's life, but when it does, the process is anything but entertaining; it's hard not to feel ripped apart by some of the paths the narrative takes.

It's almost uneccesary to add that this occasionally horrific book makes a good read. Author Barry Unsworth picks apart the meaning found in the simple routines and emotional crutches carried by a single man and, in doing so, manages to make a number of astute observations about the deep, quiet interior lives of people in general. There can be no doubt that Cleasby is a seriously unhinged individual; tightly wound, reclusive and obsessive, his various ticks and idiosyncracies are painfully itemized and assessed as "Losing Nelson" unfolds. But the truly disturbing thing about Cleasby is that he is easy to identify with, and sympathetic.

The writing is clear and vivid, jumping effortlessly between the lives of Cleasby and Nelson. Unsworth's remarkable ability to depict the tiny shifts and breaks in the emotional relationships between people is uncanny, and his descriptive ability shines as it illustrates emotional battle scenes as well as depictions of combat of a very real and physical sort.

Throughout the course of the novel, readers get the opportunity to learn quite a lot about Horatio Nelson, his career, his wife, and his mistress. "Losing Nelson" is laced with a great many anecdotes about the admiral's public life, private turmoil and military exploits. But this is something of a mixed blessing. For military history buffs in general (and Nelson fans, particularly) this book will be a double whammy of history and emotion, and should be nigh irresistible. But those with less of an interest in historical accounts may find that the many battle scenes and sketches of life in the British navy wear a bit thin after a while, particularly since some of the battle scenes seem to be almost gleefully packed with (situationally appropriate) carnage.

"Losing Nelson" is not an ordinary book; Barry Unsworth's keen insight into the life and times of an obsessive biographer brings out a lot of emotional baggage that is well worth unpacking and sorting through. Anyone wrestling with history or human nature may wish to give it a read.

— James Norton (jrnorton@flakmag.com)