Equiano’s narrative voice is so striking in its clarity and his ability to portray such vivid images in ways that are both concise and effective. I’m thinking of the scene at the beginning of chapter 8 in which he has recurring dreams about a shipwreck, and then he is trying to warn the captain about the rocks that are all around the ship. The captain is below the deck and Equiano practically begs him to take his concern seriously. He goes down to warn him then waits for the captain to come up. Aside from the horrific descriptions of the boat crashing against the rocks and the surf, the intense anxiety in the waiting for the captain to come up and address the danger reminded me of the first sentence of chapter 7. “Every day now brought me nearer my freedom, and I was impatient till we proceeded again to sea, that I might have an opportunity of getting a sum large enough to purchase it,” (Equiano). Although they are two very different scenarios, I was thinking about this common frustration of impatience and of waiting for a future, whether short-term or long-term, which exists at somebody else whim over your own, whether it be waiting to save up enough so that he could buy himself in order to be free, or waiting for someone else to hear what you are saying and to act on it. 

Another thought I had while reading was that I felt very understanding of the way he believes in God, and how he writes about his belief in times when things work out for him and in times of intense danger and near death. I think I saw it as one thing that could remain constant in response to this wide and disorienting range of travel and experience with both places and people and the sea.