"Why, Anna?" you ask me enthusiastically, hanging onto my every word (hey, I write fiction, gimme a break.)
Blaggard's Moon has a unique structure that is a little confusing until everything comes together. Polivka writes a story within a memory, interspersing moments in present-day and a recent past that is after the memory but before the present. Yeah, confusing. Here, I'll draw a pretty picture in respect to Delaney, the main character:
I bring this up because it says something about the power of stories. Because of the layering and story-ception, the reader can see the effects of the story not only on themselves but on other characters within the story, especially Delaney. Ham is telling his story to a ship-full of pirates who are colorful, crude, and somewhat dumb. His words are eloquent, but sometimes the pirates don't understand, or want him to skip ahead to an interesting part. They groan at the emotional parts, comment when they're confused, and cheer at battles. Basically, they act like pirates.
But Ham's story surprisingly affects them. Sometimes, they're quiet at somber parts and indignant at parts that are unjust, due to the power of Ham's storytelling. There are even some Christian elements in Ham's story. The pirates will have none of that, of course, but Ham leaves it open to private questions if any of them are interested in learning more about what it means to be a Christian. Delaney remembers a time when he overhears a crew member talking to Ham about it:
"What do they say?" the sailor asked, also in a whisper, eyes wide.
"They say it's all about believing. It happens inside." Ham tapped his chest . . ."There are certain particulars that if you agree with them, even once, just one time in the secrecy of your own heart, why, you'll cross over from darkness to light. And there's no turning back neither, because once you do that, you've handed your very soul over to God. And He don't ever forget. And He don't ever let go. Now. Do you want to know what those things are, those things you got to agree with and believe?" Ham asked.
"Aye," the sailor nodded, his mouth open, his eyes wide.
Then Ham looked over toward Delaney, who had stopped cleaning his pistol and was hanging on every word, his heart in his throat. "How about you?" Ham asked him. "You want to know what those things are?"
"No sir!" Delaney said, shooting to his feet . . .
Delaney watched that sailor close, from then on. He wanted to see if he ever went good, and then if he got whammed. But there was never anything to notice. Maybe he'd hang back a bit from plunder . . . It was hard to say there was a change. Until one day in port, he didn't come back to the ship. (pg. 212-213)
This can transfer to the effect of stories in our world. It answers the question, "what's the point of Christian Fiction?" or even literature in general. It can move people to feel things they wouldn't otherwise feel, and if those "things" have to do with salvation and faith, that's even more important.
The book begins with Delaney stranded on a post in the middle of a pond. We don't know how he got there until close to the end, but we do know that he's waiting to die. At night, carnivorous mermonkeys will emerge and rip him apart bone by bone. Cool, right? So understandably, he's feeling rather introspective, which turns into thinking over his life and remembering Ham's story. Doing so causes him to come to conclusions about the world, God, and himself.
Ham's story is about Damrick Fellows, a man determined to kill as many pirates as possible, and a woman named Jenta. Damrick wages war against one of the richest and worst pirate captains there is: Conch Imbry. Needless to say, the story has a lot of drinking, killing, and ruthlessness, but somehow it still conveys a message of hope.