Treasure Island: The Parrot's Tale

In 'Treasure Island' a parrot gets the last word, and turns out to be a two-hundred-year-old deconstructionist. Moreover, these last verbal fragments uttered by an uncomprehending fowl, while they effortlessly rupture conventional relations between signifier and signified, are, firstly, the fine but troublesome summation of a composition which signifies Jim Hawkins' accession to authority via authorship, and, secondly, the surprising means of galvanising Jim out of his sleep and having him sit up in bed in fear and horror of that 'accursed island' on which, one might have thought, he had enjoyed his finest hour. So we have a problem. Jim tells us at the outset that he has taken up his pen at the behest of his companions 'to write down the whole particulars' of the treasure-island adventure. Can we now accept the narrative-composition as proof of his having achieved the estate of Author - of independent, mature authority - or do we find our expectations confounded by a raucous old parrot screeching the eviscerated words of a defunct pirate?