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Table of Contents:
Novels
Almayer's Folly: A Story of an Eastern River
An Outcast of the Islands
The Nigger of the 'Narcissus': A Tale of the Forecastle
Heart of Darkness
Lord Jim
The Inheritors: An Extravagant Story
Typhoon & Falk: A Reminiscence
The End of the Tether
Romance
Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard
The Secret Agent: A Simple Tale
The Nature of a Crime
Under Western Eyes
Chance: A Tale in Two Parts
Victory: An Island Tale
The Shadow Line: A Confession
The Arrow of Gold: A Story Between Two Notes
The Rescue: A Romance
The Rover
Suspense: A Napoleonic Novel
Memoirs, Letters and Articles
A Personal Record; or Some Reminiscences
The Mirror of the Sea
Notes On Life And Letters
Autocracy And War
The Crime Of Partition
A Note On The Polish Problem
Poland Revisited
First News
Well Done
Tradition
Confidence
Flight
Some Reflections On The Loss Of The Titanic
Certain Aspects Of The Admirable Inquiry Into The Loss Of The Titanic
Protection Of Ocean Liners
A Friendly Place
On Red Badge of Courage
Biography & Critical Essays
Joseph Conrad (A Biography) by Hugh Walpole
Joseph Conrad, A Personal Remembrance by Ford Madox Ford
Joseph Conrad by John Albert Macy
A Conrad Miscellany by John Albert Macy
Joseph Conrad by Virginia Woolf
Joseph Conrad (1857-1924), was a Polish author who wrote in English after settling in England. Conrad is regarded as one of the greatest novelists in English, though he did not speak the language fluently until he was in his twenties. He wrote stories and novels, often with a nautical setting, that depict trials of the human spirit in the midst of an indifferent universe. He was a master prose stylist who brought a distinctly non-English tragic sensibility into English literature.

When, in compliance with Lingard's abrupt demand, Almayer consented to wed the Malay girl, no one knew that on the day when the interesting young convert had lost all her natural relations and found a white father, she had been fighting desperately like the rest of them on board the prau, and was only prevented from leaping overboard, like the few other survivors, by a severe wound in the leg. There, on the fore-deck of the prau, old Lingard found her under a heap of dead and dying pirates, and had her carried on the poop of the Flash before the Malay craft was set on fire and sent adrift. She was conscious, and in the great peace and stillness of the tropical evening succeeding the turmoil of the battle, she watched all she held dear on earth after her own savage manner, drift away into the gloom in a great roar of flame and smoke. She lay there unheeding the careful hands attending to her wound, silent and absorbed in gazing at the funeral pile of those brave men she had so much admired and so well helped in their contest with the redoubtable "Rajah-Laut."

* * * * *

The light night breeze fanned the brig gently to the southward, and the great blaze of light got smaller and smaller till it twinkled only on the horizon like a setting star. It set: the heavy canopy of smoke reflected the glare of hidden flames for a short time and then disappeared also.

She realised that with this vanishing gleam her old life departed too. Thenceforth there was slavery in the far countries, amongst strangers, in unknown and perhaps terrible surroundings. Being fourteen years old, she realised her position and came to that conclusion, the only one possible to a Malay girl, soon ripened under a tropical sun, and not unaware of her personal charms, of which she heard many a young brave warrior of her father's crew express an appreciative admiration. There was in her the dread of the unknown; otherwise she accepted her position calmly, after the manner of her people, and even considered it quite natural; for was she not a daughter of warriors, conquered in battle, and did she not belong rightfully to the victorious Rajah? Even the evident kindness of the terrible old man must spring, she thought, from admiration for his captive, and the flattered vanity eased for her the pangs of sorrow after such an awful calamity. Perhaps had she known of the high walls, the quiet gardens, and the silent nuns of the Samarang convent, where her destiny was leading her, she would have sought death in her dread and hate of such a restraint. But in imagination she pictured to herself the usual life of a Malay girl-the usual succession of heavy work and fierce love, of intrigues, gold ornaments, of domestic drudgery, and of that great but occult influence which is one of the few rights of half-savage womankind. But her destiny in the rough hands of the old sea-dog, acting under unreasoning impulses of the heart, took a strange and to her a terrible shape. She bore it all-the restraint and the teaching and the new faith-with calm submission, concealing her hate and contempt for all that new life. She learned the language very easily, yet understood but little of the new faith the good sisters taught her, assimilating quickly only the superstitious elements of the religion. She called Lingard father, gently and caressingly, at each of his short and noisy visits, under the clear impression that he was a great and dangerous power it was good to propitiate. Was he not now her master? And during those long four years she nourished a hope of finding favour in his eyes and ultimately becoming his wife, counsellor, and guide.

Those dreams of the future were dispelled by the Rajah Laut's "fiat," which made Almayer's fortune, as that young man fondly hoped.