Rating: 
Summary: An amazing read about how we look at history
Review: First and foremost, what a book. This is a great novel and I recommend it very highly. There is so much to talk about with this novel on so many levels. It is part biography of Adm. Nelson, it is part obsession and how we look at famous people whether historical, sports, movies etc., and it is a disturbing look at mental illness.Though the narrator in this book is obsessed with Adm. Nelson you can substitute any historical person or famous person. When does liking someone so much become harmfull to our mental well being? I don't want to give too much away, but this is a great read.
Rating:
Summary: An amazing read about how we look at history
Review: First and foremost, what a book. This is a great novel and I recommend it very highly. There is so much to talk about with this novel on so many levels. It is part biography of Adm. Nelson, it is part obsession and how we look at famous people whether historical, sports, movies etc., and it is a disturbing look at mental illness. Though the narrator in this book is obsessed with Adm. Nelson you can substitute any historical person or famous person. When does liking someone so much become harmfull to our mental well being? I don't want to give too much away, but this is a great read.
Rating: 
Summary: And then I woke up
Review: Great development, unusual direction, fine detail, all marred by the ending. An excellent case study for a discussion group on whether a book's ending can render it unworthy of being read from the outset. I would vote no; it is still worth reading.
Rating:
Summary: A Journey to the Dark Side of Hero-Worship
Review: Heroes. I suspect we all have them, whether we admit it or not. They are an indispensable part of personal, communal, and national mythologies. And like almost anything else, they can be role models for good or ill. Admiral Lord Nelson, was (and for many, remains) Britain's great hero of the dawn of the nineteenth century: his glorious triumph in command of a British fleet at Trafalgar in 1805 assured his country against invasion by Napoleonic France and happened to launch a century of nearly uncontested British dominance of the waves. When the hero fell mortally wounded upon his quarterdeck, fittingly at the moment of this glorious triumph, his remarkable accomplishments had already taken him well down the path to immortality in the hearts of his countrymen. In the subsequent two centuries, surely as many forests have been felled to provide for the almost numberless books published about him and his navy as there were cut down to build the great warships he commanded. However, while I can claim no more historical breadth of knowledge of the age of the fighting sail than that bestowed upon an avid reader by the works of C.S. Forester and Patrick O'Brian, I suspect that this journey into Nelsonian mythology is rather unlike any other examination of the great man. The protagonist, Charles Cleasby, is a reclusive Nelson scholar. His life has become dedicated to -- no, guided by -- his interest in Nelson and we meet him deeply engaged in drafting the definitive work on the Admiral's life. Well, to say he has an "interest" in Lord Nelson puts it too mildly: Charles Cleasby has found himself spiritually bound to Nelson, he has realized that the tides of time and circumstance tie them together in a peculiarly precarious balance maintained by careful adherence to ritual and quest. The beacons of his calendar are the annual and meticulous re-enactments of Nelson's naval encounters: timed to honor the minute of each significant moment and mirrored with painstakingly researched and painted warships majestically maneuvering across oceans and time limited only by imagination and faith. The reader first encounters Cleasby, rattled by having nearly missing a ritual rendezvous with the Battle of Cape St. Vincent as a result of the weather and the over-crowded London Underground. It is the first engagement in which Nelson's unorthodox naval genius was able to shine. Yet, "with twelve minutes to spare," he arrives in time for an appointment "we never miss," because "year after year we broke the line at ten minutes to one." "The sight of them now, disposed for battle, gunports open and cannon run out, quite restored my calm. In full press of sail, with their flags and pennants and painted hulls, their figureheads picked out in gold and vermillion, they made a fine show. How much care and devotion I had lavished on those models, those sloops and frigates and ships of the line, what pride I took in them. Before my father died I had to keep them in cardboard boxes in my bedroom, together with all the other Nelson memorabilia I had collected over the years. My room was full of boxes, you couldn't get the door more than half open, you had to edge your way in. Now my ships had for their manoeuvres the whole surface of the billiard table that had always been a feature of the basement. My brother Monty and I used to play on it sometimes, before he left. I had covered it with dark blue baize and had a sheet of glass fitted exactly over it. In the light of the lamp overhead -- no daylight ever entered that room -- the surface glinted like dark water and reflected the colours of the ships." And so the reader's voyage is launched. But already there are tell-tales that this is no ordinary expedition in hero-worship. There is a darkness at the edges of the "bright angel" of Horatio Nelson, and it haunts the entire story. It seems to emanate from a brief episode in Nelson's shining career: his involvement in the 1799 suppression of the revolutionary rising in Naples against its Bourbon monarch, the King of the Two Sicilies. Nelson's actions there appear disjointed from the grand sweep of his life story and almost seem a kind of inadmissible pimple on the otherwise shining visage of the hero. And, gradually, one pimple's existence seems to beget others. Nelson's notorious love affair with Emma Hamilton, too, which began in Naples, has another aspect. Unwittingly, Cleasby's quest to resolve and synthesize apparent contradictions in Nelson's character and actions in Naples opens the crack between immortal hero and mortal man. This novel is much more than an excursion into Nelsonian history -- although it is that, with delicious treatment of his battles, sensitive probing of his love affair, thoughtful consideration of much of the historiography -- it is also an analysis of the darker side of hero-worship. It is a reminder that all real-life heroes are human, with human foibles and failings that are often obscured by the radiance of the hero's transcendent accomplishments. Nelson IS a hero. Having sacrificed an eye and an arm to the service of his country, his famous call to duty still echoes down the ages. His willingness to embrace considered unorthodoxy in his tactics outshone his contemporaries and brought devastating victories; his commitment to his country's defense in the great struggle against revolutionary and Napoleonic France was total; his romance with Emma Hamilton was almost legendary in his own time. That is not to say he was a bloody, reactionary adultere, but can it be denied that such elements of human weaknesses lie inextricably mixed in this "hero"? How should one weigh and assess them? Is a hero any less so for his or her humanity or, for that matter, inhumanity? What are the lessons that the rest of us should take from the hero, and do they at times blind us to the hero's failings? "Truth" and mythology are often facets of the other, and both can be dangerously warped: how should truth and myth be balanced? And so, "Losing Nelson" also becomes a disturbing study in hero-worship and, more broadly, a troubling reminder that all heroes might merit a second or third look behind the aura in order to distill the true lessons to be absorbed. Not least, one lesson might be to keep an eye peeled for the human inside the legend. Barry Unsworth has authored a creative historical rumination and a haunting portrait of the obsessed. Among other things, it left me wondering about some of my heroes....
Rating:
Summary: The ending was NOT a letdown!
Review: I finished reading this book a month or so ago and it's been haunting me ever since. I had observed my husband's startlement when he finished the book, as well as read some of the reviews, so I knew the ending was surprising. Having read it, I believe that the violence at the end is not a concession to addicts of video games or Schwartzennegger movies. Rather, what Unsworth's protagonist does at the close of the novel is inevitable--not the specific act he commits, perhaps, but in terms of its violence. Oddly--brilliantly--Miss Lily is the trigger for this violence. Until her entrance into his life Charles Cleasby has been timid, awkward, repressed, obsessed... However, he has never been utterly mad. His therapist fosters Charles' interest in Horatio Nelson in the hope that it will be a healthy outlet for his energy and intelligence; instead it consumes both, shaping Charles' days and his identity in the endless loop of Horatio's battles. If no one had interfered Charles could have probably ignored that nasty business in Naples, and maintained his tenuous grasp on reality, going to the Club, working on the book, and not firing his cleaning lady. But the work on the book demands some help, and Miss Lily, whose common sense and good heart leave no room for hero worship, seems to represent salvation for Charles, a lifeline to save him from the interminable succession of Trafalgars. Miss Lily's sharp observations of Nelson's flaws would no doubt have gotten her promptly sacked if they weren't accompanied by such warmth; the affection with which she treats her employer allows him to respect her spunk and return her friendship as well as such a social misfit can, even while he dismisses her intelligence. But in this he cannot totally succeed, not when her criticisms of Nelson are so apt, when they exacerbate his own uneasiness over the events of June 26, 1799. Perhaps if Miss Lily had not gone away, not abandoned him as his mother had done before her, Charles could have separated himself from his hero and, with the help of Lilian and her son, forged an authentic self in which to center his formidable will and mind. But she does go, and Charles cannot believe that she will return. And in the face of this loss he must also confront the loss of Nelson, of his Bright Angel, with no one to substitute for him. He was just learning how to start to become a real person, but now he is left without anyone to guide him in the process. The mosaic of his previous identity, which he had pieced together so painfully over the years of repeated battles, is disintegrating in Naples. He has to do something. Something to sever himself from the identity that cannot be. Something to restore the identity that never was. Something violent. Just reread my verbiage. Am I pompous or what? But it's a great book. I don't think many books are 5s, and _Losing Nelson_ may not be either, but it is more that 4.
Rating:
Summary: Marvellous!!!
Review: I had studied the Napoleonic Wars for a long time before reading Unsworth's book and I thought that I had a good idea of the fighting conditions and the psychology of that period. "Losing Nelson" proved me wrong and opened widely in front of my eyes a wonderful history of a facinating personality. Unsworth uses his main hero, problematic Charles Cleasby, as a fanatical admirer of lord Nelson and builds a story where Cleasby's miserable and monotonous life is interwoven with that of the near mythical hero of the seas. Although Cleasby's psychological profile is revealed and explained in a masterful way, I regard Unsworth's presentation of Nelson's life and battles as the real gem of the book. Cape St Vincent, West Indies, Santa Cruz, the Nile, Copenhagen, Trafalgar and above all, the Naples controversial issue, are described in a terrific storm of literature. The words are carefully selected, the scenes are vividly described, the historical characters are painted in an unforgettable way. I couldn't stop reading the book and I devoured the pages until the strange finale of crime and catharsis. The book fired my interest to the Nelsonian period of naval battles and made me buy no more than five books on the subject, through which I verified Unsworth's excellent details. "Losing Nelson" is historical fiction in the most powerful form and I heartily recommend it to every history buff.
Rating: 
Summary: A Well Written Downer
Review: I just finished Losing Nelson. This is the first Barry Unsworth book I read, and now I can say that he is indeed a masterful writer and a subtle psychologist. Having said that, I have to admit that for me Losing Nelson is somewhat of a letdown. The historical part of the book, the one that deals with Admiral Nelson, is very interesting and now I know more about Nelson than I ever did before. However, the fictional part of the novel, which describes the main character's (Cleasby) descent into total madness, ends up being a very skillfully written but depressingly hopeless story -- a very dark tale, despite frequent flashes of ironic humor. Along the way, though, the reader encounters a couple of wonderfully sketched characters (for example, Miss Lily, a decent person with a backbone) as well as several beautifully written scenes.
Rating:
Summary: Disturbing, not depressing
Review: I wish I had a thought process that could so finely weave character, history, human insight, and storytelling as does Unsworth in Losing Nelson. I appreciate how Unsworth reminded us about key historical and plot points through the course of his narrative, because it would have been easy to forget them otherwise, and then lose context and interest in the story. The title character and the main character in the book are very compelling subjects. The psychological observances were very keen. They add a very worthwhile layer to the story, almost Shakespearian in nature. In the end, I wish the resolution would have been different. I'm not quite sure what I expected. Something like what happened, I guess, but not so abrupt and not told almost as an aside. The rich detail preceding it deserved somewhat more.
Rating:
Summary: A nice change of pace
Review: I wish I had a thought process that could so finely weave character, history, human insight, and storytelling as does Unsworth in Losing Nelson. I appreciate how Unsworth reminded us about key historical and plot points through the course of his narrative, because it would have been easy to forget them otherwise, and then lose context and interest in the story. The title character and the main character in the book are very compelling subjects. The psychological observances were very keen. They add a very worthwhile layer to the story, almost Shakespearian in nature. In the end, I wish the resolution would have been different. I'm not quite sure what I expected. Something like what happened, I guess, but not so abrupt and not told almost as an aside. The rich detail preceding it deserved somewhat more.
Rating:
Summary: A Sad Twisted Man But A Fascinating Premise
Review: I'm still in shock over the last page of Barry Unsworth's book, Losing Nelson. The premise of this ambitious book and the intricate weaving of characters are worthy of a this read, but I was very disappointed by the ending. The book started out with a depressed, compulsive and mentally debilitated character trying to save himself and ended with the same. A downer! Nelson's story was much more satisfying, personally and otherwise. The notion of heroes was dispelled - for the better! We do far better to add fuller dimensions to individuals!
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