I'm returning to this series after a very long break, and I'm glad that I did. It's possible, after all, to read books wrong, which can end up spoiling the book for reasons that are nothing to do with the book itself. In the case of the Aubrey/Maturin series, the uniformity of their excellence in terms of writing, their largely character-driven, relatively shapeless novelistic plotting compared poorly, I thought, to the more intricate, complex and subtle mechanisms of Dorothy Dunnett. Of course, that's the wrong approach. They don't suffer in comparison at all. They are completely different animals. To read them for the thrill of clever plot twists that have been deviously woven into eight massive volumes is both pointless and a bit stupid, and I'm glad now that I've achieved this perspective, because the pleasures of O'Brian's novels are in some ways richer than Dunnett's, for all that Dunnett will always edge out O'Brian as one of my favourite writers.

Jack Aubrey is in a sorry state at the start of The Letter Of Marque, struck off the naval lists after a trumped-up charge, he is morose, short-tempered and depressed. Stephen Maturin has purchased The Surprise, however, and with the titular letter and a crew half of old naval hands and half of doughty pirates, they set out to restore Jack's fortunes.

The aforementioned uniformity of excellence of these novels tends to render each succeeding novel susceptible to accusations of sameness. Certainly there is progression. Each book is a chapter in the ongoing history of our heroes' friendship and careers. They age and change in circumstances and temperament. There are voyages, there are battles, there are some exchanges of intelligence, observations of flora and fauna, and occasional visits to hearth and home and family, where Jack can blunder cheerfully and Stephen can mope for his estranged wife. The story develops, the characters grow, the world opens up around them, a world so fully and perfectly realised that we come to understand that what we mistook for sameness is, in fact, recognition and comfort and familiarity. Each book gives exactly what it sets out to give, and so long as we don't mistake it for something it's not, we can fully enjoy them in all their warmth and generosity. For all love.