Nostromo, by Joseph Conrad
Every once in a while I get the urge to read a classic, something from another era that challenges me in different ways from modern writing. Having devoured and admired Heart of Darkness many years ago, more Joseph Conrad seemed like a good plan. Though I struggled a bit to get into the story of Nostromo, by about 50 pages in I was enjoying it quite a bit, and by 150 pages in I was completely obsessed.
What isn't Nostromo about? Imperialism, colonialism, racism, capitalism, greed, reputation, vanity, deception, revolution. In 500 packed pages, Conrad manages to distill many of the ills he saw in his society. His incredibly dim view of how Europeans ran roughshod over perfectly good and ancient societies is on full display. Even Charles Gould, despite being a third generation denizen of the imagined South American country of Costaguana, falls pray to European hubris. The exploitation of the country's people and natural resources for Northern Hemispheric gain is condemned; the flippant attitude of Europeans to Costaguana's multitudinous political revolutions when their interference was of course the impetus for them is mocked; the incorruptibility of the most upright, incorruptible man is destroyed in the all too human obsession with reputation. Conrad spares no one, not the merchants nor the miners, not the religious nor the secular, in this devilishly fun yet ultimately depressing send up of human nature and its worst qualities. I started the book laughing out loud and ended it wanting to cry. If he were writing today, Conrad would be considered "woke," and he would no doubt despise the term, so instead I'll call him brilliant and ahead of his time, and look forward to reading more of his work in the future.
Shop indie!
What isn't Nostromo about? Imperialism, colonialism, racism, capitalism, greed, reputation, vanity, deception, revolution. In 500 packed pages, Conrad manages to distill many of the ills he saw in his society. His incredibly dim view of how Europeans ran roughshod over perfectly good and ancient societies is on full display. Even Charles Gould, despite being a third generation denizen of the imagined South American country of Costaguana, falls pray to European hubris. The exploitation of the country's people and natural resources for Northern Hemispheric gain is condemned; the flippant attitude of Europeans to Costaguana's multitudinous political revolutions when their interference was of course the impetus for them is mocked; the incorruptibility of the most upright, incorruptible man is destroyed in the all too human obsession with reputation. Conrad spares no one, not the merchants nor the miners, not the religious nor the secular, in this devilishly fun yet ultimately depressing send up of human nature and its worst qualities. I started the book laughing out loud and ended it wanting to cry. If he were writing today, Conrad would be considered "woke," and he would no doubt despise the term, so instead I'll call him brilliant and ahead of his time, and look forward to reading more of his work in the future.
Shop indie!
Comments
Post a Comment