Queer Book Club: The Ballad of Jacquotte Delahaye




Sapphic pirates in the 1600s Caribbean, based (very loosely) on real events!
image description: cover of the book listing the title and the author (Briony Cameron) over a drawn background of stylized waves, with a ship under full sail and a portrait of a mixed-race woman wearing a pirate hat and looking seriously at the camera.


If you’ve been keeping up with these book reviews (but who is, really), you’ll have pieced together by now that I have a serious soft spot for all things maritime. The Ballad of Jacquotte Delahaye, by Briony Cameron, is a classic Golden Age of Piracy novel about a shipwright who accidentally sets off a war, becomes a feared pirate, and finds love along the way.


I enjoyed this book– it’s fast-paced, impossible to put down, and just a whole lot of fun to read. As we come back from reading week and stare down the barrel of our assignments, what could be better than a bit of rollicking pirate escapism? It’s not without its issues, which we will get to, but overall I do recommend it. 


First and foremost, this book is loosely based on a true story, which is always a banging way to start a piece of historical fiction. The ratio of research to "interpretation" is a lot different than, say, The Lilac People, but nonetheless. Jacquotte Delahaye, the main character, is the daughter of a minor French official in the colony of Saint-Domingue (Haiti) and a free Black woman who passed away while giving birth to Jacquotte’s younger brother, Marceau. OR IS SHE?? There are some plot twists with her family that I can’t give away-- sorry. Due to her middling social position and access to money, she’s been able to apprentice as a shipwright and start a somewhat successful business, although her dream has always been to own and captain a ship herself. This relatively peaceful life gets upended, however, when Jacquotte inadvertently discovers a brewing conflict between the colony, France, and Spain, and is forced to flee, becoming a pirate in the process. Many trials and tribulations ensue! 


The strongest point of the novel is how incredibly transportative it is. The setting was so well-described and vivid– I felt like I was there in the sun and the wind, and I also developed a serious craving for Caribbean food– and along with the frankly nail-biting story, it was super easy to fall into, much as you do as a kid reading your favourite adventure fantasy. I enjoyed the characters a lot: they were very loveable, especially the main ones (Jacquotte, Marceau, Teresa), and generally somewhat well-developed (more on this in a minute). Teresa might be the hottest love interest I’ve ever read, and I seriously appreciated that a) she is canonically plus-sized and b) this book does not shy away from depictions of sapphic thirstTM. There is a lot of boat stuff, which I love because I love maritime history, and a lot of swashbuckling and women being cool, which you really can’t go wrong with! 


As much fun as I had reading, I would be remiss if I didn’t give you my full thoughts, complaints and all. First, there are too many side characters and almost none of them get enough page time for you to connect with them fully. Various of them then die or get grievously injured, and although Jacquotte’s reactions are well-written enough to be moving, it’s hard to care about a character you barely knew. There is only so much killing or maiming that can happen before the stakes stop feeling real. Speaking of stakes, this book has maybe the worst case of tonal whiplash that I’ve ever seen. I do appreciate Cameron’s commitment to historical accuracy and not shying away from the atrocities inherent to the 17th century Caribbean world– it would be dishonest, in a sense, to write this book without addressing slavery, sexual assault, colonization, and the everyday brutal violence of piracy. However, when you’re picking a pirate media lane, you really need to decide whether you’re going to be Our Flag Means Death or Black Sails, and then stick with it – you canNOT do both. The Ballad tries to swing both ways, to very jarring effect. 


All issues aside, if you’re looking for a fast, fun, and breathless read with which to gayly swordfight your way into spring, this might be the book for you. As I’m always saying, let the sapphics have some trashy historical romance!

Good luck with midterms etc., and let me know what you think of this one. 

With love, 

Rowan (she/they)