BRIDLE THE WIND

In the plodding Go Saddle the Sea (1977), 13-year-old orphan Felix (half Spanish, half English) picaresqued his way from Spain to 1820s England in search of long-lost relatives. Now, in an even less spirited sequel, Felix—on his way home to his Spanish grandfather—is shipwrecked off the French coast: after seeing some sort of vision, he lapses into a coma, waking up with partial amnesia in a monastery on the island of St. Just de Seignanx. Some of the monks are kindly; but the abbot, Father Vespasian, interrogates Felix sharply, subjects him to flogging. . . and has demonic fire in his eyes (as well as strange healing powers). Then Felix acquires an irascible ally: just as predicted in his vision, he sees a boy hanging in a tree and saves his life. And this turns out to be 13-year-old Juan, a Basque lad on the mn from brigands and family enemies. So, despite Juan's surliness, the two boys escape from Father V. and start picaresquing toward Juan's home in Pamplona. ("I could see clearly that this was what God had in mind for me to do," notes ever-noble narrator Felix.) There are local rituals to observe, strange animals and people to gawk at, and assorted vaillains to flee from—including the shape-changing Father V., who is indeed a Satanic creature. But eventually, after an exorcism showdown, each of the lads gets home—and there's a final revelation (totally implausible) to explain why Felix and Juna were such incompatible, if devoted, travel-companions. Murky demonism, inadequate action, wordy narration: only for readers with an uncritical addiction to period adventures.