One of Our Submarines (Wordsworth Collection)

Published 1952 · 95,000 words · about 5 hours at an average pace · Military memoir, Naval history, World War II, Biography & Autobiography

How hard is One of Our Submarines (Wordsworth Collection) to read?

One of Our Submarines (Wordsworth Collection) scores 27 out of 100 for difficulty on ReadingRate, making it relatively accessible. The score is a weighted composite of nine measures: four of how hard the prose is to parse, five of how hard the meaning is to extract.

Vocabulary: 45 out of 100
Young writes in clear, professional British prose with specialized naval and submarine terminology — trim, asdic, hydrophone, periscope depth, DSEA — that is technical without being impenetrable. The vocabulary sits between a general-audience narrative and a technical manual, similar to Moby-Dick's whaling register but more accessible, aimed at a civilian reader who has never been to sea.
Sentence structure: 35 out of 100
Sentences are competent and clear, characteristic of mid-century British non-fiction prose. Young constructs well-organized paragraphs without Jamesian subordination or Proustian extension. The style is direct and functional — closer to 1984's declarative sentences than to any modernist complexity — with occasional longer passages during tense action sequences.
Abstraction: 30 out of 100
This is overwhelmingly a concrete narrative of patrols, torpedo attacks, depth-chargings, and crew routines. Young occasionally reflects on leadership and the moral weight of command, but philosophical abstraction is brief, grounded in specific operational experience, and never sustained over more than a paragraph.
Information density: 45 out of 100
Operational detail is substantial — patrol logs, tactical decisions, navigation, technical specifications of submarines and weapons — giving the book more density than a thriller but less than a historical survey. Young packs specific facts into narrative flow without overwhelming the reader, sustaining forward momentum through rich procedural texture.
Narrative indirection: 22 out of 100
Young narrates in straightforward first person, telling the reader directly what happened, what he thought, and what decisions he made. There is British emotional understatement — harrowing events reported with deliberate calm — but meaning is never withheld or encrypted. The reader never has to assemble meaning from implication.
Symbolic density: 18 out of 100
The memoir is primarily literal and operational. The confined steel hull of a submarine carries some inherent metaphorical resonance about wartime endurance and the compression of life to its essentials, but Young does not develop symbolic layers. There are no sustained allegories or mythic frameworks overlaid on the narrative.
Ironic distance: 28 out of 100
British naval understatement functions as a mild form of irony — life-threatening situations reported with matter-of-fact detachment. Young describes near-death experiences with the same tone he might use for a missed appointment. This is a cultural register familiar to readers of Sassoon or Waugh, though without satirical intent.
Resolution withholding: 18 out of 100
As a memoir, the reader knows from page one that Young survived the war. The book concludes with HMS Storm's final patrol and Young's return as the war ends in 1945. Narrative resolution is complete and satisfying, with no ambiguity left unaddressed.
Structural complexity: 22 out of 100
Chronologically ordered from Young's first submarine posting in 1940 to the war's end in 1945. No non-linear jumps, no embedded narratives, no experimental structure. The straightforward chronology serves the memoir's function as a clear historical record and requires no special navigational effort from the reader.

How One of Our Submarines (Wordsworth Collection) is regarded

One of Our Submarines (Wordsworth Collection) holds a literary regard score of 19 out of 100, weighing its place in the canon, its critical reception, its influence on other writers, and the standing of its author. Regard is measured separately from difficulty: a demanding book is not necessarily an admired one.