I might be running out of steam on my unplanned trip down through British writers coping with the declining empire. Years ago I took a wonderful class about British Empire and Masculinity in 20th century literature. Most of it was homefront literature and some of it was richer than others. We read things like The Jewel in the Crown and Alan Silitoe and Philip Larkin, but the discussions were more interesting.
I think this book would fit right into this field. Joseph Conrad is a bit of a white whale for me, and of course his writing is a lot like Melville in numerous ways. He writes sea-going tales that compeltely subvert expectations and genre. He’s also a lot like Nabokov. He’s absolutely in love with English and abhors novelistic constraints. So the back and forth of narrators in this novel, the complete play in the languages of the sea, the land, of the many different dialects intermixing, and the putting different perspectives down within even same paragraphs creates a sometimes confusion, sometimes frustrating, and always complex reading experience. And just as I was thinking it was time to broaden my understanding of Conrad’s work beyond Heart of Darkness, I walk into this one, not knowing that 75% of the novel is narrated or invesitgated by Marlowe himself.
So I will have to get back that later.
So the plot here begins with a doomed sea voyage in which Jim, a shipmate that is well-respected balks at orders that would endanger passengers. His actions get scrutinized over and over, and his reactions to these reactions send him spiraling around the globe, with Marlowe keeping tabs here and there on him as a curiosity.
The book tells tales of Jim, but they’re almost always second or third hand and well after the fact. But the book deals with nationhood and statelessness, white supremacy and racism (and racialism), and with language, storytelling, and boats.
(Photo: https://www.amazon.com/Lord-Jim-Tale-Penguin-Classics/dp/B009CPISLC/ref=sr_1_5?keywords=lord+jim&qid=1552081473&s=gateway&sr=8-5)