This is a depressing read about the Russians, Russia and the proverbial Russian soul. About the omnipresent material and moral poverty and alcoholism. About despair and futility. Applicable to modern-day Russia, unfortunately.
The story is irrelevant. There are no likeable characters. Conrad means to show the European and Russian worldviews not as competing, but as intrinsically alien to each other.
The thing you have to be prepared for when reading Conrad's political novels, is that he was writing 100 years ago and a disturbing amount of what he portrays fits the present day, and probably always will. I suppose I should see this as the mark of a talented author--he's really just describing people, and we really don't change--but I can't read one of these without becoming somewhat disillusioned by just how little has changed in 100 years of "progress".
Anyway, to the story. This is the least action-packed of Conrad's works that I've read, and it's kind of refreshing. All the real "action" happens before the book starts, and to a character who barely appears in the book himself. The story, instead, is about the consequences for everyone else around him. It's a brilliant ruse to focus on what Conrad does best anyway: writing about emotions and interpersonal conflict, …
The thing you have to be prepared for when reading Conrad's political novels, is that he was writing 100 years ago and a disturbing amount of what he portrays fits the present day, and probably always will. I suppose I should see this as the mark of a talented author--he's really just describing people, and we really don't change--but I can't read one of these without becoming somewhat disillusioned by just how little has changed in 100 years of "progress".
Anyway, to the story. This is the least action-packed of Conrad's works that I've read, and it's kind of refreshing. All the real "action" happens before the book starts, and to a character who barely appears in the book himself. The story, instead, is about the consequences for everyone else around him. It's a brilliant ruse to focus on what Conrad does best anyway: writing about emotions and interpersonal conflict, honesty, suspicion, honour and malice. And in the end, the small story of turbulence in a few peoples' lives illustrates much better than any broad narrative could the astonishing power of abstract ideas like patriotism and political systems to crush the individuals caught up in their way.
My one frustration with this book, in common with several of Conrad's others, is that at times he gives the narrator character himself too much attention, and manages to come across rather pompous as a result. I think an editor could have improved this book by cutting a few soliloquies out....
The thing you have to be prepared for when reading Conrad's political novels, is that he was writing 100 years ago and a disturbing amount of what he portrays fits the present day, and probably always will. I suppose I should see this as the mark of a talented author--he's really just describing people, and we really don't change--but I can't read one of these without becoming somewhat disillusioned by just how little has changed in 100 years of "progress".
Anyway, to the story. This is the least action-packed of Conrad's works that I've read, and it's kind of refreshing. All the real "action" happens before the book starts, and to a character who barely appears in the book himself. The story, instead, is about the consequences for everyone else around him. It's a brilliant ruse to focus on what Conrad does best anyway: writing about emotions and interpersonal conflict, …
The thing you have to be prepared for when reading Conrad's political novels, is that he was writing 100 years ago and a disturbing amount of what he portrays fits the present day, and probably always will. I suppose I should see this as the mark of a talented author--he's really just describing people, and we really don't change--but I can't read one of these without becoming somewhat disillusioned by just how little has changed in 100 years of "progress".
Anyway, to the story. This is the least action-packed of Conrad's works that I've read, and it's kind of refreshing. All the real "action" happens before the book starts, and to a character who barely appears in the book himself. The story, instead, is about the consequences for everyone else around him. It's a brilliant ruse to focus on what Conrad does best anyway: writing about emotions and interpersonal conflict, honesty, suspicion, honour and malice. And in the end, the small story of turbulence in a few peoples' lives illustrates much better than any broad narrative could the astonishing power of abstract ideas like patriotism and political systems to crush the individuals caught up in their way.
My one frustration with this book, in common with several of Conrad's others, is that at times he gives the narrator character himself too much attention, and manages to come across rather pompous as a result. I think an editor could have improved this book by cutting a few soliloquies out....
The thing you have to be prepared for when reading Conrad's political novels, is that he was writing 100 years ago and a disturbing amount of what he portrays fits the present day, and probably always will. I suppose I should see this as the mark of a talented author--he's really just describing people, and we really don't change--but I can't read one of these without becoming somewhat disillusioned by just how little has changed in 100 years of "progress".
Anyway, to the story. This is the least action-packed of Conrad's works that I've read, and it's kind of refreshing. All the real "action" happens before the book starts, and to a character who barely appears in the book himself. The story, instead, is about the consequences for everyone else around him. It's a brilliant ruse to focus on what Conrad does best anyway: writing about emotions and interpersonal conflict, …
The thing you have to be prepared for when reading Conrad's political novels, is that he was writing 100 years ago and a disturbing amount of what he portrays fits the present day, and probably always will. I suppose I should see this as the mark of a talented author--he's really just describing people, and we really don't change--but I can't read one of these without becoming somewhat disillusioned by just how little has changed in 100 years of "progress".
Anyway, to the story. This is the least action-packed of Conrad's works that I've read, and it's kind of refreshing. All the real "action" happens before the book starts, and to a character who barely appears in the book himself. The story, instead, is about the consequences for everyone else around him. It's a brilliant ruse to focus on what Conrad does best anyway: writing about emotions and interpersonal conflict, honesty, suspicion, honour and malice. And in the end, the small story of turbulence in a few peoples' lives illustrates much better than any broad narrative could the astonishing power of abstract ideas like patriotism and political systems to crush the individuals caught up in their way.
My one frustration with this book, in common with several of Conrad's others, is that at times he gives the narrator character himself too much attention, and manages to come across rather pompous as a result. I think an editor could have improved this book by cutting a few soliloquies out....
Some interesting thoughts about revolution and revolutionaries.
Fifty years ago I read the old man's description of Natalia Haldin, "It is hard to think I shall never look any more into the trustful eyes of that girl, wedded to an invincible belief in the advent of loving concord, springing like a heavenly flower from the soil of men's earth, soaked in blood, torn by struggles, watered with tears."
And that put me in mind of the Ascension Day hymn:
He shall come down like showers upon the fruitful earth;
Love, joy, and hope, like flowers, spring in His path to birth.
Before Him, on the mountains, shall peace, the herald, go,
And righteousness, in fountains, from hill to valley flow.
Some interesting thoughts about revolution and revolutionaries.
Fifty years ago I read the old man's description of Natalia Haldin, "It is hard to think I shall never look any more into the trustful eyes of that girl, wedded to an invincible belief in the advent of loving concord, springing like a heavenly flower from the soil of men's earth, soaked in blood, torn by struggles, watered with tears."
And that put me in mind of the Ascension Day hymn:
He shall come down like showers upon the fruitful earth;
Love, joy, and hope, like flowers, spring in His path to birth.
Before Him, on the mountains, shall peace, the herald, go,
And righteousness, in fountains, from hill to valley flow.
