These stories are about real people. But James Norman Hall has re-imagined them as literary works. Two will immediately stand out, "The Forgotten One," which gives the volume its title and "Frisbie of Danger Island." "The Forgotten One" is Hall's latest and best iteration of the story of Crichton, an Englishman who secrets himself away on a solitary island until he wastes away into death and obscurity. "Frisbie of Danger Island" traces Hall's relationship with the legendary Robert Dean Frisbie, who also isolated himself, albeit with his family, on yet another remote atoll, Puka Puka, which is also known as Danger Island.

These two stories bookend the volume. And they reveal how two men, drawn to solitude, cope with that loneliness, and how one, Frisbie, thrives in meaningful ways, while the other, Crichton, fades away into an unmarked grave. Both are haunting. The Crichton story must have obsessed Hall, for he introduced Crichton in his very first book co-authored with Charles B. Nordhoff, Faery Lands of the South Seas. It also featured prominently in Hall's posthumously published autobiography. From his very first contact with the South Seas until his last remembrances, Crichton loomed large in Hall's memories.

The relationship with Frisbie, however, is the overall highlight of the book. Frisbie's own works only came to be appreciated after his death. While he did gain publication of several books and many articles during his lifetime, he felt himself a failure and was always penniless and on the verge of poverty. Hall supported him throughout this time. But that doesn't lessen the commitment Frisbie himself made to his family. Once his wife died, Frisbie raised their children by himself. But when Frisbie died early, his children were separated and raised by friends of the family. One daughter Florence "Johnny" Frisbie published several acclaimed works in her own right, including Miss Ulysses from Puka-Puka: The Autobiography of a South Sea Trader's Daughter. Today, "Johnny" Frisbie just might be the sole remaining connection with those American authors who, for over a century, ventured into the South Seas to write tales of adventure and discovery, and retell the histories of devastated peoples in Polynesia.

Finally, there is my least favorite story in the collection, "Rivnac," who is a Czech expatriate living in Tahiti during the 1930s. The story unwinds itself slowly and there are times when the reader may become annoyed with Rivnac and Hall. But as is usual with Hall, by the tale's end, he has brought upon us an overall effect that is moving, filled with nostalgia, and longing. "Rivnac" becomes at the end a small masterpiece. ( )