{"id":5987,"date":"2014-10-28T02:42:27","date_gmt":"2014-10-28T02:42:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.eoisabi.org\/?p=5987"},"modified":"2026-04-03T19:48:51","modified_gmt":"2026-04-03T19:48:51","slug":"the-beach-of-falesa","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/englishroam.com\/?p=5987","title":{"rendered":"Robert Louis Stevenson"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"RLS\"<\/a>1850 – 1894<\/h6>\n

\u00a4 \u00a0The Beach of Fales\u00e1<\/a><\/span><\/h4>\n
The story is told in the\u00a0first person\u00a0by John Wiltshire, a British\u00a0copra<\/a>\u00a0trader on the fictional\u00a0South Sea island\u00a0of Fales\u00e1. Upon arriving on the island, he meets a rival trader named Case, who (in an apparently friendly gesture) arranges for him to be \u00abmarried\u00bb to a local girl named Uma in a ceremony designed to impress the natives but to be completely non-binding in the view of Europeans.<\/address>\n
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Wiltshire soon discovers that Uma has a\u00a0taboo\u00a0attached to her which causes all the other natives to refuse to do business with him, to Case’s profit. He also hears rumors of Case having been involved in the suspicious deaths of his previous competitors. Although realising that he has been tricked, Wiltshire has genuinely fallen in love with Uma, and has their marriage legalised by a passing\u00a0missionary.<\/address>\n
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\"Falesa\"<\/a><\/address>\n
Wiltshire gradually learns that Case’s influence over the villagers stems from their belief that he has demonic powers, as a result of his simple\u00a0conjuring\u00a0tricks as well as strange noises and visions they have experienced at a \u00abtemple\u00bb he has built in the forest. Upon investigating, Wiltshire finds that these experiences are also tricks produced by imported technologies such as\u00a0luminous paint<\/a>\u00a0and\u00a0Aeolian harps<\/a>.\u00a0Wiltshire sets out that night to destroy the temple with\u00a0gunpowder. Case confronts him and the two men fight, resulting in Case’s death.<\/address>\n
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The story concludes with Wiltshire several years later living on another island, still happily married to Uma, worrying about what will happen to his\u00a0mixed-race\u00a0children.<\/address>\n
\u2022 \u00a0Click \u2191 \u00a0to read<\/address>\n

Written by Stevenson after he moved to the South Seas island of\u00a0Samoa,\u00a0just a few years before he died there.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0\u2022 \u00a0Chapter I:<\/h6>\n
A SOUTH SEA BRIDAL<\/h6>\n

I saw that island first when it was neither night nor morning. The moon was to the west, setting, but still broad\u00a0and bright. To the east, and right amidships of the dawn, which was all pink, the daystar sparkled like a diamond.\u00a0The land breeze blew in our faces, and smelt strong of wild lime and vanilla: other things besides, but these were\u00a0the most plain; and the chill of it set me sneezing. I should say I had been for years on a low island near the line,\u00a0living for the most part solitary among natives. Here was a fresh experience: even the tongue would be quite\u00a0strange to me; and the look of these woods and mountains, and the rare smell of them, renewed my blood.<\/p>\n

The captain blew out the binnacle lamp.<\/p>\n

\u00abThere!\u00bb said he, \u00abthere goes a bit of smoke, Mr. Wiltshire, behind the break of the reef. That’s Fales\u00e1, where your\u00a0station is, the last village to the east; nobody lives to windward\u0014 I don’t know why. Take my glass, and you can\u00a0make the houses out.\u00bb<\/p>\n

I took the glass; and the shores leaped nearer, and I saw the tangle of the woods and the breach of the surf, and the\u00a0brown roofs and the black insides of houses peeped among the trees.<\/p>\n

\u00abDo you catch a bit of white there to the east’ard?\u00bb the captain continued. \u00abThat’s your house. Coral built, stands\u00a0high, verandah you could walk on three abreast; best station in the South Pacific. When old Adams saw it, he took\u00a0and shook me by the hand. ‘I’ve dropped into a soft thing here,’ says he.\u0014’So you have,’ says I, ‘and time too!’ Poor\u00a0Johnny! I never saw him again but the once, and then he had changed his tune\u0014couldn’t get on with the natives, or\u00a0the whites, or something; and the next time we came round there he was dead and buried. I took and put up a bit\u00a0of a stick to him: \u00abJohn Adams, obit eighteen and sixty\u2212eight. Go thou and do likewise.’ I missed that man. I\u00a0never could see much harm in Johnny.\u00bb<\/p>\n

\u00f7\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00f7\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00f7<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u2207\u00a0 \u00a0Read\u00a0 &\u00a0 listen\u00a0 . . .\u00a0 \u21d3\u00a0 \u00a0[esl-bis]<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00f7\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00f7\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00f7<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a4 \u00a0Classic Poetry Series <\/a>\u2190\u00a0\u00a0<\/strong><\/address>\n
\u2022\u2192https:\/\/sites.google.com\/site\/robertlouisstevenson<\/strong>\/words-and-meaning<\/a>\u2190<\/address>\n
\u2022\u2192\u00abSongs of Travel\u00bb<\/a>:
\n<\/strong><\/address>\n
\u2192\u00abI will make you brooches\u00bb+\u00bbwe uncommiserate pass into the night\u00bb+\u00bbevensong<\/a>\u00ab<\/span>\u2190<\/address>\n
\u2666 \u00abThe Vagabond\u00bb\u00a0\u2193 \u00a0[by\u00a0Robin Hendrix<\/strong> &\u00a0Michel Prezman_2008]<\/strong><\/h6>\n