Yet another lost literary classic makes its way to the blog, one that is hardly ever studied nowadays despite the praise it received after its initial publication. Today's post is about James Conrad's Nostromo, a historical fiction book with settings and characters that are so vivid and immaculately linked that it can be easy to mistake the work for a personal account or biography.
Caballeros, silver mines, European aristocrats, colonization, territorial exploitation, and military coups make up the intricate, dynamic society which James Conrad illustrates in Nostromo. The title character, whose name can vaguely be translated to Nostro uomo (our man in Italian) holds a relatively minor presence at the beginning of the book. He is referred to periodically as a unidimensional, valiant, good-natured force that acts for the wellbeing of Costaguana, the principal setting of the book. Charles and Emilia Gould, the English couple who inherit the silver San Tomé mine from the former's father, are instead established as the opening characters. They are English and wealthy, fueling a system of imperialism that drives out the natives of Costaguana to extract, maintain, and profit from the silver which lies in the island's mines.
While Charles Gould recognizes the way in which his father became absorbed by the silver, becoming infatuated by a paranoid sense of responsibility due to the never-ending weight of such a precious commodity, he too is unable to distance himself from the mines. Conrad offers us a story of rampant, violent brawls across the island mixed with the adventure of Nostromo and a journalist named Martin Decoud, who proposes the idea of removing the silver in order to limit the horrendous conflict, as they seek to cleanse the area of its corruption. However, these two well-intentioned characters become marred with the destructive forces themselves, becoming ruined in their own separate ways.
At first glance, the book might seem a bit outdated, and I won't refuse that statement. However, the moral commentary which Conrad proposes by following the story of Nostromo creates a suspenseful and urgent tone which encourages us to think about our current habits. Indeed, our contemporary society shares an abundance of similarities with the colonialism and material exploitation of what we consider to be "times past." Wealthy, distant landowners like the Goulds maintain an iron grip on the activities of dependent, constantly infuriated territories as they succumb to the trade and exchanges of the top one percent.
The book is not only instructive, but also stylistically perfect. James Conrad learned English in his 20's since he was born in Poland. Language provided him with a feeling of liberation and integration into society, so he spent an immense amount of time perfecting his English in his adult life. As a result, despite his late acquisition of the skill, he masters the vocabulary and grammatical elements of the story, making the story an absolute joy but also a bit of a challenge to read. Here are three of my favorite passages as a sneak peek for the fluid, thrilling language you can expect to find (not so much a preview of the content itself though; I don't want to reveal too much!)
On writing:
"It occurred to him that no one could understand him so well as his sister. In the most sceptical heart there lurks at such moments, when the chances of existence are involved, a desire to leave a correct impression of the feelings, like a light by which the action may be seen when personality is gone, gone where no light of investigation can ever reach the truth which every death takes out of the world. Therefore, instead of looking for something to eat, or trying to snatch an hour or so of sleep, Decoud was filling the pages of a large pocket-book with a letter to his sister."
On torture:
"The priest’s inquisitorial instincts suffered but little from the want of classical apparatus of the Inquisition. At no time of the world’s history have men been at a loss how to inflict mental and bodily anguish upon their fellow-creatures. This aptitude came to them in the growing complexity of their passions and the early refinement of their ingenuity. But it may safely be said that primeval man did not go to the trouble of inventing tortures. He was indolent and pure of heart. He brained his neighbour ferociously with a stone axe from necessity and without malice. The stupidest mind may invent a rankling phrase or brand the innocent with a cruel aspersion. A piece of string and a ramrod; a few muskets in combination with a length of hide rope; or even a simple mallet of heavy, hard wood applied with a swing to human fingers or to the joints of a human body is enough for the infliction of the most exquisite torture. The doctor had been a very stubborn prisoner, and, as a natural consequence of that “bad disposition” (so Father Beron called it), his subjugation had been very crushing and very complete. That is why the limp in his walk, the twist of his shoulders, the scars on his cheeks were so pronounced. His confessions, when they came at last, were very complete, too. Sometimes on the nights when he walked the floor, he wondered, grinding his teeth with shame and rage, at the fertility of his imagination when stimulated by a sort of pain which makes truth, honour, self-respect, and life itself matters of little moment."
On isolation:
"He spent the night open-eyed, and when the day broke he ate something with the same indifference. The brilliant “Son Decoud,” the spoiled darling of the family, the lover of Antonia and journalist of Sulaco, was not fit to grapple with himself single-handed. Solitude from mere outward condition of existence becomes very swiftly a state of soul in which the affectations of irony and scepticism have no place. It takes possession of the mind, and drives forth the thought into the exile of utter unbelief. After three days of waiting for the sight of some human face, Decoud caught himself entertaining a doubt of his own individuality. It had merged into the world of cloud and water, of natural forces and forms of nature. In our activity alone do we find the sustaining illusion of an independent existence as against the whole scheme of things of which we form a helpless part. Decoud lost all belief in the reality of his action past and to come. On the fifth day an immense melancholy descended upon him palpably. He resolved not to give himself up to these people in Sulaco, who had beset him, unreal and terrible, like jibbering and obscene spectres. He saw himself struggling feebly in their midst, and Antonia, gigantic and lovely like an allegorical statue, looking on with scornful eyes at his weakness."
Hopefully these passages kindled a desire to read the book— it's one of Harold Bloom's top 100 with other famous texts like Pride and Prejudice and Don Quixote and for good reason. The only downside I can note is that it runs a bit long in the middle with slightly presumptuous, vacuous descriptions. There is a bit of a marasme in the middle which gets fixed near the action of the end, which is what ultimately drops the book down to a 9/10, still a remarkably high rating. Thank you for your attention and let me know what you think of it if you have had the chance to read it or if you're thinking of picking it up!
5/28/21