Arthur van Schendel’s atmospheric historical novel set in the first half of the nineteenth century, and first published in 1933, conjures up powerful images of Dutchness and the Dutch landscape. Its hero Maarten Rossaart is an outcast from the small town where he grew up, his main transgression being that he thinks for himself and will not accept the Calvinist doctrine that teaches subordination to the will of God and to one’s superiors. To make matters worse, he wants to marry a Catholic girl but this is impossible in such a narrow-minded and inflexible society.


The town lies on the river Merwede and close to the river Waal. From an early age, Maarten discovers that the water is his element — he rescues people from floods, builds dykes, and eventually becomes a boatman, sailing all the waterways of Holland, later on in the company of Marie and their son whose life begins on the water and ends in it when he falls from the boat.


Even before Rossaart embarked on his unconventional life with Marie, his alienation from society was so complete that he had joined a group of people who had developed their own alternative society along communal lines. He continues in this way of life once Marie assumes the role of his wife: Rossaart’s earnings are not his, but the brotherhood’s, and she remains as wary of the members of the sect as they are of her. Needless to say, these people are persecuted for breaking laws they choose not to recognize, but also, perhaps, because their experiment represents a criticism of society. The strains take their toll and the commune falls apart amid bitterness and recriminations.


After many years, Marie can no longer face life on the water, so Rossaart continues with only his dog for company. The novel ends with Marie’s death, Rossaart leaving the town for his boat, and the following understated but emphatic return of the waterman to his element.

There was no one on the quay when he untied and hoisted the sail. He knew it was cold and that his hand would be stiff, but the rudder responded obediently. He would sail with the current, for he had nothing to keep him here.

Just off the old redoubt, on the river-bend, with the lights of Sleeuwijk nearly opposite, the dog barked. Rossaart thought he saw something and peered round, but it was too dark; all he could make out was the sail against the sky. Suddenly the dog stared to bark angrily, uninterruptedly, its head over the side. For a moment or two it walked to and fro growling, but near the mast it stared again, even more furiously. Rossaart heard a splash. He straightened himself and jumped into the water; as he jumped he thought he should have lowered the sail. But he had to try to get the animal and with a few strokes he grasped it by the neck. The sail was not far off, he swam to it and clutched the low board of the boat. Then he lifted the dog from the water and dumped it on deck. It was not easy for him to get himself aboard, his shoe kept slipping off. And while he was holding on with one hand he felt the tiredness leave his legs; the water did him good. And the hand let go.

The boat went slowly on down the dark river with the dog barking. The next day it was found in the reeds somewhere, old and snow-covered — it was the boat of the man who had sailed so long on the Merwede. (p. 171, tr. Neline C. Clegg)