“Người ta suốt đời bị túm chặt lấy bởi một số phận, nhưng chỉ nhận ra tình cảnh ấy khi sắp sửa hoàn tất, bởi một bi kịch, một tai nạn… Những tai nạn như thể đã lơ lửng sẵn đâu đó chỉ chờ lúc thích hợp. Đột nhiên người ta nhận ra mình nói một tiếng nói khác, đơn độc hoàn toàn, và không cách nào hiểu được đối với những người xung quanh. Giữa những tồn tại con người ấy sự hiểu luôn luôn vắng bóng, không còn là chuyện của ngôn ngữ, mà là dục vọng, các động cơ sâu kín thậm chí khiến cho một con người trở nên đáng kinh hãi trước mặt kẻ khác.
Độc giả bắt gặp khắp nơi trong các truyện của Conrad những kẻ ghét bỏ con người hay bị con người ghét bỏ, đi vào nơi hoang vu sống giữa bọn mọi và thậm chí quay lưng lại với cả đồ tiếp tế; những thủy thủ Mã Lai làm việc trên tàu hiểu biết mọi thứ chỉ trừ động cơ hành động của những người da trắng trên đài chỉ huy; tay thuyền phó với giọng nói tuyệt diệu khiến mê hoặc cả những lỗ tai tinh tế nhất lại rơi vào thế khổ sở cùng cực và kết thúc bằng cách tự cắt cổ họng… Thường xuyên Conrad cho nhân vật của mình thoát chết chỗ này để chết ở chỗ khác. Họ bị đưa ra khỏi nơi mà thói quen sống của con người được thiết lập qua một quãng thời gian dài, chẳng còn bị kiềm tỏa hay được nâng đỡ bởi một cộng đồng, và nếu có một dư luận nào xung quanh danh tiếng của họ thì đó đã là quá khứ. Sân khấu của định mệnh ấy được sắp đặt ở những nơi dường là tận cùng thế giới, nơi tồn tại con người leo lắt chẳng mấy đáng giá; bị vây chặt bởi những gầm rú phi nhân tính bủa vây tha hồ quăng quật, người ta mơ hồ nhận ra linh hồn của xứ sở.”
Joseph Conrad was a Polish-British novelist and story writer. He is regarded as one of the greatest writers in the English language and, although he did not speak English fluently until his twenties, he became a master prose stylist who brought a non-English sensibility into English literature. He wrote novels and stories, many in nautical settings, that depict crises of human individuality in the midst of what he saw as an indifferent, inscrutable, and amoral world. Conrad is considered a literary impressionist by some and an early modernist by others, though his works also contain elements of 19th-century realism. His narrative style and anti-heroic characters, as in Lord Jim, for example, have influenced numerous authors. Many dramatic films have been adapted from and inspired by his works. Numerous writers and critics have commented that his fictional works, written largely in the first two decades of the 20th century, seem to have anticipated later world events. Writing near the peak of the British Empire, Conrad drew on the national experiences of his native Poland—during nearly all his life, parceled out among three occupying empires—and on his own experiences in the French and British merchant navies, to create short stories and novels that reflect aspects of a European-dominated world—including imperialism and colonialism—and that profoundly explore the human psyche.
Tre racconti scritti tra il 1910 e i due anni a venire, che Conrad raccolse e pubblicò nel 1912, tra i quali faceva netta differenza e rimarcava viva preferenza: Freja delle Sette Isole giù, Il coinquilino segreto su: Temo proprio che “Freya” sia una porcheria. D’altro canto “Il coinquilino segreto” funziona benissimo. Niente maledetti trucchi col le ragazze lì. Ogni parola è al suo posto, non c’è una sola nota incerta.
E in effetti “Freya” è il meno riuscito dei tre: non tanto per la presenza femminile, per i “maledetti trucchi con le ragazze”, presenti anche nel primo Un briciolo di fortuna, anche se qui la presenza femminile è più casta, meno ispiratrice di desiderio e passione, e più di pensieri sublimi. Quanto piuttosto, secondo me, perché in Il coinquilino segreto (in effetti privo di personaggi femminili) c’è solo mare e niente terra: e la nave diventa madre e sposa, unica traccia di femminile. D’altronde, per Conrad la terra è il ricettacolo d’ogni nefandezza e tentazione, regno del commercio e delle tentazioni del sesso, corrotta e corruttrice. Mentre il mare è immacolato, è dove si vive l’esperienza autentica, dove nella solitudine della vastità acquea è possibile trovare se stessi, mettersi alla prova, misurarsi.
Soprattutto i primi due abbondano di quella caratteristica che ha reso Conrad speciale: l’ambiguità. Effettivamente in “Freya” l’ambiguità diventa palese, il villain è vivo e vegeto e presente, incarnato dall’olandese descritto tutto nero, nei vestiti nei capelli e in generale nell’aspetto. Al quale proposito viene da pensare come Conrad fosse favorevole all’imperialismo commerciale britannico, che considerava evoluto e progressista. Mentre condannava, a piena ragione, quello spietato e retrogrado dei belgi in Congo, e qui degli olandesi nei mari del Sud (tutti e tre i racconti, sia in terra che in mare, sono collocati in quella parte di mondo, l’Oceano Indiano).
I racconti si apprezzano anche se l’indulgenza alla retorica del tenebroso e dell’esotico conduce Conrad a frasi come questa: Il pomeriggio tropicale allungava le ombre sulla calda terra estenuata, ricetto di oscuri desideri, di speranze stravaganti, di inimmaginabili terrori.
Segnalo la teoria della cripto omosessualità, sostenuta da alcuni critici (anche Sertoli che scrive la prefazione all’edizione del 2016 che opta per il titolo Tra terra e mare), che traccia un filo rosso tra i protagonisti maschili dei tre racconti, come se fossero tre facce dello stesso uomo, incapace di vivere il desiderio sessuale con una donna (vedi Un briciolo di fortuna e Freja delle Sette Isole), e invece rapito dalla donna nave e attratto dal suo doppio maschile, quel Leggatt che il capitano protegge e nasconde nonostante sia accusato di omicidio (vedi Il coinquilino segreto): I tre racconti dipanano un’unica storia, virtualmente continua, di omosessualità negata, travestita da ipervirilità romanticheggiante ma, alla fine, appena schermata dietro una ragnatela di segni.
Anche se a me pare che il capitano e Leggatt giochino piuttosto sul versante del doppio, del doppelgänger, che dell’omosessualità, latente o meno. Effetto della celebre “ambiguità”, cifra stilistica conradiana.
Three Conrad novellas, two of which, ‘A Smile of Fortune’ and ‘Freya of the Seven Seas’ consider the consequences of self deception, and the third being the ‘The Secret Sharer’, which is definitely one of my favorite short stories of all time. It was great to get back to Conrad and his world where a calm sea is not just a calm sea, and where when someone looks like you, it is not just a case of physical resemblance. It was so good to read this again.
Una serie di racconti buoni, ma non esaltanti. Per chi ama le avventure marinare senza troppi colpi di scena e, magari, con una piccola concessione al mistero.
One of the nice things about the Kindle (and I was dragged into the e-book world when my wife gave me one in the hopes of reducing the stacks in the basement), is that it allows you access to an ocean of public domain books by some of the greatest writers. In this case, I found one of Joseph Conrad's short story (novella) collections in its original sequence. The middle story, "The Secret Sharer," shows up in just about every Conrad anthology. I don't need to say much about it other than it's a weird one, and really unlike most of Conrad's other work. It's like Conrad doing Kafka, or the other way around. If you're into the Double in literature, it's a must-read.
That said, it's the other two stories, "A Smile of Fortune" and "Freya of the Seven Isles" that really won me over. I've never heard of these stories before, but if you're into Conrad, these two are gold. "The Smile of Fortune" is a first-person narration by a sea captain who, after sixty days at sea, makes landfall at a beautiful island in the tropics. He has been instructed by the ship owners to conduct some business there (trade), but leave it to the captain to make the most of it. It's there he meets the brothers Jacobus -- who haven't talked to each other, due to a family scandal, in years. The one brother the captain deals with the most is a sea chandler, who is always looking for some sort of deal, and who seems intent to sell the captain a huge cargo of potatoes (see Faulkner's "Painted Horses"). The captain isn't interested, but he does develop an interest in Jacobus's mad daughter, Alice (whose mother was a circus performer (this is the "scandal")). Alice is a great character, beautiful and wild, the kind of eccentric you might find in Dickens. The story is both funny (not a quality I usually think of when reading Conrad), and sad.
The last story, "Freya of the Seven Isles," reminded me a bit of the Conrad's first novel, Almayer's Folly (which I really admire), and perhaps, given the setting, Victory. This story also opens with some humor, but ultimately it turns into a great tragedy. (One of the other reviewers on GR called this story Hardy with boats -- and that seems right). It's a love story, with two dreaming lovers, a beautiful ship, and a vicious villain. This is the longest story in the collection, and it is filled with gorgeous descriptive passages, the kind that keep me returning again and again to this great writer. Highly recommended.
Three tales, novellas, actually, that capture the breadth of Conrad's work. Two of them, "A Smile of Fortune" and "Freya of the Seven Isles," demonstrate his tendency to depict cautionary revelations about the power of self deception leading to tragedy. This is a recurring theme of Conrad's. And in exotic locations in Indochina and on the China Sea, it is particularly effective, here. That is because the exoticism is as much a barrier, a prison, as it is a psychological backdrop. Westerners are entrapped in places they do not really belong. And the entrapment only serves to push them closer and closer together, until their feelings and frustrations are fused and ignited.
It is the third tale, "The Secret Sharer," however, that usually generates the most commentary. As it has come to be regarded as high "literature," it has also found its way into numerous other editions of Conrad's writing as well as general anthologies. You can just see the high school English teachers salivating over its overt symbolism (catch that scorpion, there, did you?) and its not too subtle psychological revelations. Without a doubt, it's all intended. The Jungian individuation seems to have come out of a textbook, for example. And I suppose that is what is a tiny bit of a problem for me. God knows how many undergraduate term papers and MA level theses "The Secret Sharer" has generated. All of them sucking the lifeblood out of the work each and every page of the way. Even more so than the dreary Edward Said type moaning about post-colonial readings. These sorts of commentaries absolutely kill many potential readers' interest in an author. Nothing is worse than some pontificating ass droning on about "meaning" and "context." Ignore them. Read the stories for the sake of the stories themselves. And don't feel guilty about not knowing whatever that scorpion is supposed to mean.
With ‘Twixt Land and Sea, Conrad’s works signify a moving away from the more political novels that provided many of his best works. As Conrad himself says, the three stories here are not connected in any way, and differ greatly in tone and content.
The first story has a distinctly ironic accent to it. In ‘A Smile of Fortune’, a young captain lands his ship at a tropical island called Pearl. He is greeted by a trader called Jacobus, which he regards as a stroke of luck as his employers had asked him to cultivate Jacobus’ favour. In fact it turns out to be the brother of Jacobus, and he is on bad terms with the correct Jacobus, and regarded as somewhat disreputable by the islanders.
The captain however is drawn to the brother and repelled by the actual Jacobus whom he witnesses beating a mulatto servant. As a result the captain visits the brother’s home and becomes infatuated with Jacobus’ sulky daughter. After obtaining some kind of reciprocation, he loses interest, but this is witnessed by Jacobus, and the captain is obliged to buy a large consignment of potatoes that he does not want. By another stroke of luck, the captain arrives on another island where there is a famine and he is able to sell the potatoes, but the thought of returning to Pearl fills him with disgust and he resigns his command.
The story presents issues in a cynical way, but there is a lack of clarity about its intentions. Some of the issues left unresolved are as follows. Should we share the captain’s hostile view of the respectable Jacobus, or should we disregard his seeming ill-treatment of a possibly bad mulatto servant (Conrad’s attitude towards ethnic minorities was notoriously bad, so it is possible that he believes this)? Should we feel sorry for the disreputable Jacobus, or should we regard him as a shady man who is cynically using the captain for blackmail purposes?
Also what of the relationship between the captain and Alice, Jacobus’ daughter? Is she a sulky and insipid person, or a victim, brought up outside respectable society through no fault of her own? Is the captain an innocent gull, or should we despise him for trifling with her feelings?
There is of course no reason why a story has to present the reader with clear unambiguous characters and motives, but the lack of clarity is here a drawback since it leaves the purpose of the story uncertain. Ultimately I think the reader will probably decide that both Jacobus brothers are bad (the resemblance to the word ‘succubus’ is possibly intentional), that the captain has behaved badly, and that Alice is a pitiable figure.
While the story is uncertain in meaning, it is told in very clear prose and is very readable. There is a very moving scene at a child’s funeral that is irrelevant to the story, but which adds some depth to it. The tale is readable, but not Conrad’s best work.
Just as there are two seemingly different but really similar brothers in ‘A Smile of Fortune’, so there are two seemingly different but really similar characters in ‘The Secret Sharer’. I have already reviewed this story recently in Typhoon and Other Tales, and do not wish to review it again. However in the interests of completeness, I shall copy my earlier comments about it.
‘The Secret Sharer’ is one of those tales that seems to tease us with an extra meaning that we cannot quite pin down. The narrator is once more a young man on his first voyage as Captain of a ship. While alone on the deck, he is startled by a young man climbing aboard. The man is an officer from a neighbouring ship who murdered one of his crew members, and is now a fugitive.
The fugitive (Leggatt) feels that he was justified, because the victim was a bully who refused to obey an order at a time when the ship was in peril from a storm. The narrator conceals Leggatt in his cabin because he feels a strange affinity with the murderer. The two men look alike and they both went to Conway, a training ship. Eventually the Captain agrees to take his ship close to an island at great risk to the safety of his ship and crew so that Leggatt can safely swim ashore.
‘The Secret Sharer’ cries out for psychological interpretations, especially those of a Freudian nature. The two men look similar, suggesting a dual identity. Even the cabin in which Leggatt is concealed is in an ‘L’ shape, reflecting both his name and a letter that comprises two identical sticks, one fallen over. The title too hints at this. Leggatt is a sharer of more than just the secret of his concealment in the cabinet. He shares a resemblance to the Captain.
There are some characteristically Conradian ideas about the weakness and fallibility of humans. Had circumstances been different, the story suggests, then Leggatt and the Captain’s places might have been interchangeable. However, it is a mistake to see Leggatt as an imaginary or psychological projection of the Captain’s personality. The story is a concrete tale, and Leggatt’s existence is confirmed by others. We should also avoid seeing the story as a Jekyll and Hyde variation, as both men are morally ambiguous.
In fact, this gets more to the heart of the narrative. Insofar as it is about psychological issues, it is more about the moral choices made by Leggatt and the Captain. On the surface, it might seem that Leggatt is the darker character, but this position is far more blurred. Leggatt kills a man to saves his ship from disaster. The Captain endangers his ship to save a known murderer. Right and wrong are uncertain. Was the Captain in the right to risk all to protect Leggatt, and was Leggatt justified in his murder?
There is also the question about the Captain’s motives in protecting Leggatt. These are never explained to the reader, but seem to lie in the strange resemblance between the two men. The Captain is almost protecting himself, or an alternative version of what he might have been. This lends itself to other interpretations.
Some see a form of elitism in the actions of the Captain. He and Leggatt were trained in the same place, and both men are intelligent and well-educated. They are more compatible with one another than they are with their stupid crew members. This creates a freemasonry between the two men. Another reading of the story is to see a homosexual connection between them, and some of the language the Captain uses might suggest an attraction between them.
While ‘The Secret Sharer’ may not bear out all the psychological interpretations placed on it, the story is a fascinating one that appeals to the dark recesses of the imagination, and its ambiguity leaves the reader guessing.
If the first two stories are teasingly ambiguous, ‘Freya of the Seven Isles’ is entirely straightforward. It concerns a romance between Freya, living with her father in a remote area, mature, passionate, and addicted to playing the piano – and Jasper Allen, a young man who proudly runs a ship called the Bonito, which both he and Freya set much stamp on. The serpent in their Garden of Eden is a Dutch naval officer called Heemskirk. Heemskirk is in love with Freya and uses his influence as a Dutch officer to terrify her timid father.
When Heemskirk realises that Freya will not return his affections, he avenges himself on the couple by hauling in Allen’s ship on accusations of gunrunning and then casting it adrift on the reef. Deprived of his ship, Allen sinks into decline and Freya too despairs and eventually dies.
Conrad was criticised for writing a harrowing story, and it is certainly that. However, Freya and Allen are far too romanticised to be ever imagined having a serious, long-lasting romance. We cannot imagine them living in domestic bliss together, so a passionate unhappy fate is the inevitable one when they come into contact with the real world. Heemskirk too is a romantic villain, utterly without a redeeming trait, and existing only to provide a tragic resolution for the story.
‘Freya of the Seven Isles’ does not have much substance or depth to it. It is a romantic tale, and not much more. The writing does have a certain poetic power to it however, and Freya is one of the most appealing Conrad heroines, strong and mature where the male characters are not. It may seem absurd that the two lovers fall apart over the loss of a ship – indeed it is. However, this is not a tale of social realism. It is purely a romance.
The stories here do not have much in common. They are united by the sea, and being in the same part of the world. They also present a world in which justice is absent. The fate of the characters depends on chance, and their own ability to establish their own sense of justice.
The book is not one of Conrad’s greatest works, although it is elevated by the inclusion of ‘The Secret Sharer’, one of his best short stories. However, they are certainly readable and interesting, and the book is well worth a look.
A Smile of Fortune is a tale about a sea captain infatuated by a mad woman but he is unable to fulfill his aspirations. He is essentially impotent. He becomes embroiled with her father a ship Chandler who is also the black sheep of the Jacobus family. A well known family on the island. In the end he leaves the island with a cargo of potatoes the father more or less forces him to buy and where fortune seems unlikely.
The Secret Sharer about a doppelgänger who a Captain saves from drowning and who has murdered a man. There is then a cat and mouse game with his crew and those searching for him. A very psychological story about good and evil.
Freya of the Seven Seas is a comical, tragic and sad tale. A triangle of two star struck lovers, a father and a dutch lieutenant of a gunboat lusting for Freya. Jasper her beau has a beautiful brig and the ship reflects their relationship.
I read these stories in an old J M Dent edition without any annotations, which was problematic for "a Smile of Fortune" but less so for the other 2. "A Smile of Fortune" is the story of a young captain who sails to an island in order to pick up a shipment of sugar. He has instructions from his owners to ingratiate himself with a prominent merchant called Jacobus, but gets all confused because the first Mr Jacobus he meets turns out to be the wrong one: there are 2 Jacobus brothers on the island, Alfred and Ernest, and they haven't been on speaking terms since Alfred made a fool of himself over a circus girl with whom he had a daughter. While Alfred is affable and eager to please the young captain, Ernest treats him roughly and puts his back up. The narrator becomes fascinated with Alfred's daughter who leads a tragically isolated life as the illegitimate child of a discredited man. On the day of departure, he lets Alfred sell him several tons of potatoes, thinking that it's the least he can do to compensate the ostracized family for having toyed with Alice's affections. He thinks the potatoes will go bad before he can dispose of them, but finds out on the contrary that he is able to resell them for 3 times the price he paid for them. Far from having blackmailed him into a poor bargain, Alfred has effectively enriched him. However, realizing that he will be morally obligated to marry Alice if he shows his face on the island again, the captain feels he has not choice but to resign from his job. "The Secret Sharer" is a nicely eery story on the theme of the doppelgänger. I can see why it is so often anthologized but found it a trifle heavy-handed. Once again the narrator is a young and untried captain, who accidentally rescues the chief mate of another vessel. This guy, Leggatt, admits to having killed an obnoxious sailor who refused to obey orders during a raging storm. Because his father is a parson, Leggatt is determined to escape or commit suicide to avoid a trial and a scandal back home. Feeling a strong affinity with him, the captain hides him in his cabin, thereby risking arrest himself. After a few tense days outfoxing his crew and officers, the captain manages to let Leggatt dive quietly near enough to some islands to have a chance of swimming ashore and surviving as an outcast for ever. Conrad needn't have stressed the mysterious kinship between the 2 men so forcefully to put his point across, but it's a very atmospheric and satisfying tale altogether. "Freya of the Seven Isles" is a sad story of a beautiful young couple destroyed by the vicious jealousy of a Dutch official. Freya loves Jasper, a hot-headed young trader who owns a beautiful brig, the Bonito, but makes the fatal mistake of waiting to be of age to elope with him, because she doesn't want to break the heart of her timid old father. Hateful Heemskirk manages to get authority to arrest Jasper on trumped up charges, and tows the Bonito onto a reef. Deprived of his wonderful brig, Jasper goes mad and gives up Freya, who dies of a broken heart. Thus summarized, the tale sounds rather melodramatic and no more compelling than an opera libretto, but it's a good read nonetheless.
Two novellas and a short story comprise Twixt Land and Sea, all involving the confluence of lives between sea and shore, A Smile of Fortune—Harbor Story, The Secret Sharer—An Episode from the Coast, and Freya of the Seven Isles. The middle story is the most famous, anthologized in high school and college literature textbooks. The other two were entirely new to me. All three were intriguing tales of individuals on the margins, sea captains in remote regions of the world, isolated by job responsibility, and, in two cases, newness to the job and crew. They are also stories of identity, desire, isolation and escape.
In the first story, the captain, to the clucking disapproval of his first mate, falls into the hospitality of a gregarious, aggressive ship’s supplier who is shunned by the seaport’s society because he’d run off with a woman of ill-repute and returned with the woman’s daughter. The supplier’s brother is a prominent, socially well-accepted businessman but quite vile person. The captain becomes enamored of supplier’s bitter daughter. In The Secret Sharer a young captain alone at night on his ship’s desk sees a rope ladder that should have been hauled in. When he goes to pull it in he notices a young man clinging to it, not of his crew. He sneaks the refugee from another ship into his cabin. The young man fled his ship because during a storm that threatened to sink the ship he was mate on the young man impulsively killed a sailor who challenged orders. The young man appeals to the captain as a kind of double. The captain has to decide whether to help the man or turn him in when the captain from the other ship comes a calling. The final story involves two young lovers in the Dutch colonial territories. He is a young British sea captain, trading in and around the Dutch controlled islands. She is the almost 21 year-old daughter of a successful Danish landowner who is always nervous of the Dutch authorities and the independence and rashness of the British captain kindles his nervousness. When Freya turns 21 she intends to marry Jasper Allen. But there is a Dutch naval lieutenant who dislikes Allen and pursues Freya as well.
Conrad is a great writer and each of these tales is strong, psychologically rich, and artfully plotted and rendered. You marvel at the economy and power of each story, recognizing that this is poet in prose and understanding how he influenced so many 20th century writers. Hemingway was a young journalist when Conrad died and lamented that he had carelessly read through all of Conrad’s work when he should have saved some, knowing that at some time soon there would be no new Conrad. I am lucky that I yet have a lot of Conrad to read.
3 classic stories of sailing men: 1) “A SMILE OF FORTUNE”— a ruined and lost moral steadiness. 2) “THE SECRET SHARER” — saddest of the tales. A story of misplaced loyalty. 3) “FREYA OF THE SEVEN ISLES” — heartbreaking love story of love destroyed by a hateful outsider. Read clearly and with compassion by Peter Dann. (Free on Librivox ).
This book of harbor-themed stories contains The Smile of Fortune, The Secret Sharer and Freya of the Seven Isles. The first story studies two men, one old and one young, whose seafaring and ship chandlering careers are derailed by infatuation. The Secret Sharer is Conrad's famed doppelganger story which is so wonderful because the reader suspects (but is never quite certain) that the narrator is unreliable. The third story and final story is multi-themed and is based on an actual legal case. In this story, two men are courting the 20 year old daughter of a tobacco farmer whose plantation is located in seven islets in the Dutch East Indies. The farmer is fearful of Dutch governmental authorities because he is Danish-English and has set up his plantation on the seven small islands at the sufferance of the Dutch government. One of the suitors is a young British man who owns an elegant brigantine; the other is a middle-aged Dutch captain of a steam-powered gunboat. The girl, Freya, favors the younger man and is planning to elope with him on her twenty-first birthday. The Dutchman is very arrogant, possessive and vindictive. The father is singularly oblivious to the drama that is unfolding. One evening close to the planned elopement, the Dutchman observes Freya kissing the younger man. After the younger suitor leaves, the Dutchman becomes verbally abusive and is rewarded with a slap from Freya. This humiliating rejection triggers a horrifying abuse of legal process and a scheme to wreck a ship and ruin lives. This edition of the book contains endnotes which identify the actual case involving the running aground of a brigantine tall ship by a steamship over some small personal offense.
Conrad always offers amiably lush and personal language in his stories. It’s easy to imagine that he’s telling the story in front of a satisfying fireplace.
It’s no surprise to me that Conrad was a successful writer during his lifetime. His characters are deeply inscribed in his stories, and his empathies always give context to the dialogues and the action. There is much humanity in Conrad’s writing.
‘Twixt Land and Sea offers “A Smile of Fortune,” “The Secret Sharer,” and “Freya of the Seven Isles.” The latter tale of desperate hope and pitiless heartbreak invites you to imagine as much as you can about how Freya and Jasper might have done it differently. Conrad is a master of the right words to tell the outcome that they couldn’t avoid.
Three stories, set (as the title suggests) at the margins of the land and sea: the first in Mauritius, the second in the Gulf of Siam, and the third in the Malay Archipelago. All unsettling in their different ways: Conrad is a master of disorientation and putting people into moral dilemmas. The last of the three, Freya of the Seven Isles is unputdownable.
Andiamo via/via dai fantasmi/In fretta via/da questi inutili spasmi/"Via, via, vieni via di qui,/niente pi� ti lega a questi luoghi,"/"c'� una ragione di pi�/per dirti che vado via" Insomma, si salpa.
Lần đầu mình đọc truyện ngắn của Conrad và thấy rất phê. Thích nhất truyện đầu tiên về 1 anh thuyền trưởng chở thuê đến vùng có mía đường và bị cuốn vào 1 âm mưu đc che giấu bất ngờ. Đúng như tựa đề, giữa đất - mưu mẹo, gian manh và nước - tự do, phóng khoáng, ở giữa chính là nỗi khốn khổ của con người: bị lường gạt, muốn quên nhưng k thể quên, bị truy đuổi, bị làm cho yếu đuối, bị chủ nghĩa thuộc địa làm con ám ảnh…
Conrad tả nội tâm rất khá, truyện có nút thắt bất ngờ và cũng khá ám ảnh. 2 truyện đầu làm mình nhớ Stevenson, 1 cái giống Olalla, 1 cái doppelganger giống ông Hyde và Jekyll. Truyện thứ 3 thì hơi chán, chỉ là nhân vật quyết định cuộc đời mình theo kiểu mình k lựa chọn và k đồng cảm đc thôi, chứ k phải kiểu 3 xu gì.
3 dịch giả thì Nhị Linh làm mình mệt nhất. Chị Anh Hoa cân bằng. Còn Công Hiệu thì mượt mà, nhưng do truyện thứ 3 mình k thích mấy, nên chỉ nhớ là truyện này đọc nhanh thôi, chứ k ấn tượng vì bản dịch. Nếu k có truyện này thì 5 sao.
(Książka czytana w języku polskim - polski tytuł: "Między lądem a morzem") Zbiór trzech udanych nowel znanego angielskiego pisarza, jak zwykle osadzonych w tematyce żeglarstwa. Choć książka ma już ponad sto lat (1912), czyta się ją zaskakująco dobrze w kontekście współczesnym. Opowiadanie "Ukryty sojusznik", pełne jest queerowego napięcia (prawdopodobnie moje ulubione w zbiorze), natomiast w "Freji z Siedmiu Wysp" wyraźnie zaznaczają się motywy feministyczne. Wszystkie historie przesiąknięte są melancholią – co, jak sądzę, wiąże się z żeglarskim stylem życia samym w sobie.
Un grandísimo libro que reúne tres relatos increíbles. Sobre todo Freya, la de las siete islas se ha convertido en un texto que seguro releeré con el tiempo. Me ha encantado por su estilo y sus personajes, y porque su final te deja sin palabras.
At the end of 'The Secret Sharer' occurs a climactic action sequence that is truly pulse pounding. Like edge of your seat type stuff. It's really amazing, considering that a reader would (most of us, that is) enter into this story knowing little about sailing and the techniques, maneuvers, and other mechanical knowledge that makes a true sailor sea worthy. Conrad's ability to create such a vivid, realistic scene that relies so much on movement and speed, making it reel like a movie in the mind, ratcheting the tension of the situation, even to the most untrained landlubber, is what makes him an enduring voice in world literature. A man as gifted as he at revealing the psychology behind human behavior wouldn't, dare I say, lasted as long as he if he hadn't a knack at the timeless art of thrilling us from time to time - or at least rendering what might normally be banal in such a way, with his perspective, that it doesn't transcend and become something greater, something weirder, or darker. Rambling now. Make sure to read the intro and notes in this edition of the book to give yourself some context and guideposts to read by. I always find that helpful, clarifying, edifying. Suit yourself, however.
This contains three novellas: 'A Smile of Fortune', 'The Secret Sharer' and 'Freya of the Seven Isles', and the Penguin edition has a helpful introduction along with notes which intriguingly suggest that all three tales had some basis in truth. In 'A Smile of Fortune', the narrator becomes obsessed with the teenage daughter of a social outcast. 'The Secret Sharer' is probably Conrad's most famous short piece, and tells of a young ship's captain who finds himself sheltering a fugitive. There's a decent film version starring James Mason which can be found on Youtube at the time of writing. 'Freya' is the story of a love triangle that ends in disaster; it features some slightly more one-dimensional characters than the other two, but is none the less compelling for it. Altogether, the book is archetypal Conrad, with the author at his most readable and accessible, so it could be a good one to start with for anyone new to this brilliant writer.
A collection of three lengthy short stories, two of which - to my pleasant surprise - I had not encountered before in the over 25 Conrad books I've read over the years.
"The Secret Sharer" I have encountered in numerous anthologies, and though I enjoy it each time, it's one of those I wish I could read for the first time again to get the full impact.
"A Smile of Fortune" and "Freya of the Seven Isles" were exciting discoveries. They are both classic Conrad, with sets of characters which are both amusing and sad in their strangeness, but which concurrently exemplify Conrad's remarkable perception of human nature.
I think Conrad attempts something new here. Mencken says that Conrad's heroes follow a Greek route to defeat and disaster, but in this book it seems like he's trying to write comedies (see the Dowson epigraph). He simply can't do it, and the stories all end rather equivocally. That said, Heemskirk in "Freya of the Seven Isles" is a villain unlike his others - the grotesque black beetle yet endowed with a furibund eloquence making him more than contemptible ("There isn’t such a quiet spot on earth that a woman can’t find an opportunity of making a fool of somebody"), and capable, in a way unlike the other Conrad characters I've encountered, of supplanting fate.
Freya of the Seven Isles is the cruelest of stories. The destruction wreaked on the lives of three innocent people by the bitter vengefulness of another is hard to stomach. So read when only in a strong frame of mind.