Tag: Conrad

Previously:

• Part I – The Silver of the Mine
• Part II – The Isabels

The situation has reached a boiling point: General Montero’s rebel forces have dismantled the government and are sweeping over Costaguana, while the traitor Sotillo, invading Sulaco by steamship, comes to establish a reign of terror.  The citizens flee to the countryside, seeking protection by the once-feared bandit Hernandez.  Everyone believes Nostromo and Martin to be dead, and Dr Monygham fears for the safety of Emilia Gould, who, half-abandoned by her workaholic husband, still remains in the town.  He realizes he must take action to save her, while the rebels and the elusive silver begin to take a corrupting hold over everybody else.

There is much, much more that happens in this third part, but I can’t give it away.  It’s as well Part III takes up nearly half of the book, because the initially slow plot here picks up with gusto, taking all the world-building from the first two parts and launching an all-out political/Western drama on a grand scale.  I was so invested in the story, it gave me an awful nightmare (yes, it was the torture scene), which I don’t think has ever happened to me before.  It’s moving, haunting, depressing, and, above all, thought provoking.

Conrad has a great deal to say about imperialism and the double-edged sword that was the British-American investment in South America.  We see Charles Gould as a Gaskellian John Thornton, bringing stable jobs and industrialism to an unstable region, but we also see him as a conqueror and self-centered tycoon, sacrificing his own wife’s happiness for his ambitions.  Conrad’s dual perspective is also directed to President Ribiera and General Montero, neither side effective in governing the country and both entities too strongly influenced by foreign powers, in spite of the ideals of the one and the brute force of the other.  Nostromo, as human as any of them, represents the common man, only one who is half-heartedly a key player in major historical events.  He has his own vices and virtues which are not immune to the proximity of immense fortune.  Conrad leaves no one without a weakness, whether they are white or Latino, rich or poor.

The female characters are well portrayed and surprisingly modern in some ways.  Emilia Gould, though a devoted wife, is well aware of her husband’s flaws and exerts her own charisma and character to help others.  Antonia, the liberated belle of Sulaco, takes after her father Don Jose in her desire to see a better government for the nation.  Linda starts out the daughter of an innkeeper and ends up running the lighthouse on her own.  There are others, and they all stand on their own feet (except perhaps the tragic Giselle, who, in spite of her shallowness, still got my sympathy).

For a more detailed character analysis, definitely check out Brian’s review on Babbling Books.  He describes the core personalities and tensions really well.

I also want to mention two literary devices Conrad uses.  One is a long letter written by Martin to his sister, which goes over some of the main events of the conflict.  The second is a flashback told in the form of a guided tour by Captain Mitchell, as he recalls past events to a visitor to Sulaco.  Both of these devices slow the book down, but on the plus side, I thought they were creative.  Again, patience does pay off, just be prepared!

In all, I feel The Lighthouse made up for the tortoise pace of the first two parts, and I give the book an overall 4 stars.  It is not Conrad’s best writing, and I probably would not have ploughed through it if I weren’t a Conrad fan.  On the other hand, I don’t know of any other English language novel of the 19th century that covers this history (albeit in a fictional setting), and the plot and characters are so strong, I am very glad I stuck with it.  It is just like revisiting my Latin American history college course, except in novel form – so many tragic iterations of military coups, bloodshed, uprisings, and misdeeds or abuse by colonial powers.  This book, for the most part, has aged well, because its moral is still relevant, and unfortunately history has repeated itself in other places and with other people to this day.

VENTURA [CC BY 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

As with Lord Jim, I feel compelled to write something about Nostromo at about the 1/3 mark.  Conrad very handily divided the novel into three sections: The Silver of the Mine, The Isabels, and The Lighthouse.  I must get my (spoiler-free) thoughts down on the first part before continuing, otherwise I’m bound to forget them.

This “must” is, in part, due to the rambling style of the book.  I can’t remember the last time I read a narrative that was so clear in its purpose yet so murky in its direction.  This first part is all about world-building and character painting, but Conrad doesn’t go about it in a conventional, orderly fashion.  In one moment you are in the past, in another you’re in the present – in one paragraph, you’re standing next to one character, then in the next, you’re following another.  Back and forth, all over the place!  I had to check where I was a few times.

It’s jumbled, but truly immersive.  I feel I have a deep understanding of the people as well the place and time: the fictional nation of Costaguana, in 19th-century South America.  That Latin American history course I took in college is coming alive in the story, places, and scenery.  It’s as if Conrad wants to show me everything all at once, to give me the most complete picture under 200 pages.  It’s overwhelming and strangely powerful.

Nostromo would benefit greatly from a character list such as you’ll find in The Brothers Karamazov.  There’s several major characters and quite a few minor ones, and since the narrative is fluid, constantly shifting focus, it is hard to keep track of them all.

Our main character thus far is Charles Gould, aka Don Carlos, an Englishman and native to Costaguana.  His father was cursed with an old, rundown silver mine – that is, coerced into buying it by shady government officials during a time of revolution. Charles, who is on good terms with the current dictator, decides to take advantage of the favorable political atmosphere and renovate his family’s burden into a profitable scheme, providing jobs and stability to the region.  His devoted wife Emilia supports him in this, as does his neighbor Avellanos and the retired-general-turned-manager Don Pepe.  Some trouble is foreshadowed by the coming of the railway, not to mention the dubious leadership and the haunting legacy of Charles’s father.

Nostromo is just a minor character so far.  A commanding figure, he used to be a sailor, and now he works ashore, at times going the extra mile to keep the peace in the coastal town.  It’s not clear what role he is going to play in the future, but he strikes me as having the potential of Sydney Carton, being in the right place at the right time (or is it the wrong place at the wrong time?).

It took me forever to get into this book, but now that I am, I can say I am really enjoying it.  Conrad excels at generating intrigue and making you curious about the fate of his characters, even if you’re not totally sympathetic with them.  I don’t feel I have a solid grasp on the story, but I do understand the setting and characters, which is part of the appeal.  Hopefully some of the mystery will be made clearer in part 2.