The Arrow of Gold is a non-political book about politics, and a study of a woman that offers no great insights into femininity. The first of those points is intentional and the second is not. It might have been a better book if the opposite had applied, i.e. if it had been a book about political issues, and not a book about a woman.
The book is set in Marseilles during the third Carlist revolt. The story is narrated by an anonymous narrator, known only as Monsieur George, though this is not his real name. George signs up for the Carlist cause, and helps to secretly transport goods to them by ship.
He falls in love with Rita da Lastiola, a young woman of some wealth and mystery who supports the Carlist cause, and who has inherited a fortune from a wealthy man that took her as a mistress. She is of peasant origin, and her motives and feelings are the subject of endless debate. George assumes that she is in love with Captain Blunt, who is certainly in love with her.
However, Rita makes clear that she does not return Blunt’s affections, and it is clear to the reader that it is George that she loves. The lovers are only united when Rita’s hypocritical nun-like sister allows a jealous admirer of Rita (from her peasant days) in the house, and George protects her. However, after George is injured in a duel with Blunt, Rita deserts him again.
To take the first of the two points that I began with, the story is almost resolutely non-political. Whilst the hero (of course) takes the Royalist side, his interest in the conflict is purely romantic, and he scorns political motives, as indeed do all the best characters, notably Rita and Dominic, George’s partner in his shipping ventures.
The characters who do take politics seriously (including the Blunts) are distinctly unsympathetic and dangerous. Rita’s zealously religious sister Therese is also a dubious character, her piety acting only as a veneer for her material pursuits. She is even willing to plot her sister’s death to gain her ends.
This is in accord with the pessimism regarding belief systems that Conrad expresses elsewhere in his writings, and notably the ventures of Carlism come to nothing in the end, and are soon dismissed. Perhaps the problem with making the book so apolitical is that it removes a good deal of interest from it. Many characters are introduced, only to pass off the pages without really contributing much, leaving a good many loose ends.
This puts the emphasis on the love affair between George and Rita, and this is hardly a strength in the book. It has its own loose ends, e.g. the fate of the jealous Ortega, last seen wounded, but not dead. Worse still, it bogs the book down in endless passages of description and talking, often of a rather clichéd romantic nature. We wait in vain for something exciting to happen, but it never does.
Much of the book hinges on the character of Rita, but ultimately there seems to be little real mystery about her, and she finally emerges as an almost childlike character caught in a world of intrigue. Her affection for George is so transparent that his constant rejection of her seems only obtuse and irritating.
When they are finally allowed to come together, Conrad performs his characteristic trick of spitefully pulling the rug out from under the happy ending and separating the lovers forever. Perhaps this is ultimately the danger of Conrad’s excessively romanticised characters. It is inconceivable to imagine them settling in to the more mundane chores of married life, and so only a romantic separation is possible.
The Arrow of Gold is not without its interesting passages. On the whole though we must class this with Romance as one of his weaker works. It is overly verbose and excessively romantic in the worst kind of way. Conrad himself acknowledged this, and thought rather poorly of the novel. Fortunately for his reputation, Conrad still had one great novel left in him, which was The Rover.
This book is of some interest to Conrad completists who will find some of the familiar themes and characters of his works. However, it is likely to be of only mild interest even to them, and very little interest to anyone else.