The Secret Sharer

I still remember the first time I read "The Secret Sharer" by Joseph Conrad. I had obtained this peach-colored paperback titled Great Short Works of Joseph Conrad. His story "The Lagoon" knocked my socks off when I first read it and made me hungry for more of Conrad's stories and novels. This volume included "Heart of Darkness," famously re-interpreted in Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now, as well as this one, "The Secret Sharer." I was determined to learn how to write short fiction (I didn't believe I had enough free time to write a novel while raising a family and holding down a full time job) so I selected classic authors and burrowed through as much of their work as I was able. Conrad was one of these.

I loved Conrad's stories for several reasons. First, because I was impressed by the fact that English was his third language. Second, because they were deep. He found ways to touch deep parts of our inner lives by making vivid the psychological complexity of his characters. Third, his descriptions were so alive and the writing beautiful. You could easily tell he had experienced the settings where his stories took place---a South Pacific island or Congo backwater or, in this case, a sailing vessel in the South Seas.

This story is told in first-person by a young, unnamed captain taking command of his first ship. Only later did I learn that "The Secret Sharer" is based partly on a real shipboard tragedy and partly on Conrad’s personal memories of himself commanding a vessel for the first time, which makes the story so real, even though that's not precisely what the story is about. By combining those two sources, Conrad created a psychological sea tale about leadership, responsibility, and something bigger. 

That "something bigger" is the nature of human nature. When I myself read "The Secret Sharer" I saw the story as a metaphor for our "two selves," the one that is hidden and the other that is known. This "house divided" cannot stand, thus the story is includes the question of how to bring resolution to this inner conflict.

As the story begins we learn that narrator is captain of a ship at port in the Gulf of Siam. Across the way there is another ship anchored called The Sephora. We quickly learn this our hero's first command as captain. He's quite young for such responsibilities, still in his twenties, and this story is essentially a rite of passage, his personal initiation into leadership.

The night before departure he instructs the crew to knock off early so they'll be rested for the voyage. The mates obey, but think it a curious thing for the captain to take the night watch in this manner. What happens next is even more curious. In the dark he goes to pull up the ladder but it seems stuck on something. When he looks, it startles him to see what appears to be a headless man holding on to the bottom rung of the ladder.

As he hung by the ladder, like a resting swimmer, the sea lightning played about his limbs at every stir; and he appeared in it ghastly, silvery, fishlike. He remained as mute as a fish, too. He made no motion to get out of the water, either. It was inconceivable that he should not attempt to come on board, and strangely troubling to suspect that perhaps he did not want to. And my first words were prompted by just that troubled incertitude.

He goes on to say...

I had somehow the impression that he was on the point of letting go the ladder to swim away beyond my ken—mysterious as he came. But, for the moment, this being appearing as if he had risen from the bottom of the sea.

In reading this I was immediately given the impression that this "bottom of the sea" was a metaphor for his subconscious self.

The man (his name is Leggatt) is invited to come aboard and the captain rushes off to get him clothes so that they are dressed alike and even look alike, Leggatt himself being in his twenties as well. As they talk, we learn that Leggatt shares the same education and background. The captain calls him his double, so there is no mistaking the meaning of this character. 

But we also, the captain and reader, learn that Leggatt is a fugitive. He killed a man while serving as first mate on the Sephora. The young captain listens to the man's account of the incident. The chief mate, refusing to follow orders to secure a sail, put the Sephora at risk and with it the safety of all aboard. In short, though Leggatt saved the ship he was locked up for the crime.  

Feeling the crime may have been justified, the narrator of this tale hides his double in his own quarters. They each share their personal stories and consider how things will unfold as a result of this unplanned, unlikely twist of fate.

So begins a tale fraught with tension, first because this is also a test of the captain's own ability to lead. And then there's the stress generated by having to conceal this secret from the crew. The story is a perfect setup to address themes of isolation, the duality of the self, courage, and the struggle to assert authority. 

As the story unfolds the screws tighten, but as in life, stress reveals who we are and what we're really made of. This is the heart of the story.  

* * *

Joseph Conrad had been working on the political novel Under Western Eyes, which dealt with life and politics in Russia, to write this shorter story which was originally called “The Secret-Sharer: An Episode from the Sea.” It was first published in two installments in Harper’s Monthly Magazine in August and September of 1910. A couple of years later, in October 1912, it appeared again as part of a small collection of Conrad’s sea stories titled ’Twixt Land and Sea: Tales.

Read the story here:

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/220/220-h/220-h.htm

Bonus Track: The Lagoon

https://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Lago.shtml

I'm On the Side of Civilians

This week I was talking with a friend who made an interesting statement. "I'm not Conservative or Liberal, Republican or Democrat... I'm on the side of Civilians."

This resonated with me. And it reminded me of a statement I heard last fall: "The problem is the Bureaucrats." In fact, I heard that statement twice in two days, from different sources.

Whether it's Ukraine or Gaza, Israel or Somalia, it's apparent that the decisions made by those who wield power are going to have consequences that impact the powerless. America alone has been bombing countries since the beginning of World War II. The world was horrified by Guernica, a civilian village in Spain bombed by fascists during the Spanish Civil War, yet in how many times and places has this bombing of civilians taken place? 

America alone has bombed China, Korea, Guatemala, Indonesia, the Congo, Peru, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Libya, Bosnia, Sudan, Yugoslavia, Afghanistan and Iraq. American bombs and missiles are being generously supplied to Israel to destroy Gaza. In many of these cases we claim to have been liberators. I'm curious what the civilians whose homes have been pulverized have to say about all that. 

At the end of Joseph Conrad's novel Heart of Darkness, Kurtz, a central character who has descended into madness in the heart of Africa, utters these memorable, haunting words as he reflects on the darkness and depravity he has encountered: "The horror! The horror!"

The statement encapsulates Kurtz's profound realization of the moral corruption and brutality that he has witnessed and participated in during his time in the Congo. It's all the more ironic because he is the one who supposedly came from a "civilized" culture. Ultimately Kurtz serves as a chilling commentary on the human capacity for evil and the consequences of unchecked power and imperialism. 

While headlines herald the machinations of the powerful and the elites, let's not forget the civilians. At the end of the day one must continue to ask, "What about the people?"  

Lessons from Joseph Conrad's Nostromo Are Still Relevant.

"It is to be remarked that a good many people are born curiously unfitted for the fate awaiting them on this earth."
--Joseph Conrad

When I first set out to pursue a writing career I had a strong desire to write fiction, but also wrote articles. I'd decided that writing a novel was too big of an undertaking for a beginning writer who was also working full time, so I focused on writing short stories. 

To learn the storytelling craft I read and listened to short stories in the following manner.  I would use short story anthologies to identify short story writers. I would select a writer and immerse myself in his or her work, much like binging. Hemingway, Jack London, Chekov and many others were studied in this way. Joseph Conrad was among the first.

I remember taking an album out of the Hennepin County Library with several Conrad stories on it. The first that I listened to was called "The Lagoon." The descriptive prose and heartbreaking story moved me profoundly. What especially made an impression on me was that Conrad wrote in English, which was not his native tongue. In fact, English was Conrad's third language.  

Conrad wrote Nostromo in 1904, a story set in the fictional South American republic of Constaguana during a violent revolution. The title character is an Italian longshoreman who has been entrusted to safeguard a priceless silver mine that was owned by Charles Gould.

Primary themes in the novel include the corrupting influence of power and greed while also examining the impact of colonialism and imperialism on Latin America. How interesting that these themes continue to remain relevant 100 years later in a post-colonial era.

 

In the story, Nostromo is initially a respected and trustworthy figure, but he is gradually bent by the power and wealth that he gains from safeguarding the silver mine. Over time he is increasingly ruthless and dishonest, eventually becoming responsible for the deaths of many people. 

Here's a description of the novel from Amazon.com. What I found most illuminating is how much history preceded the Latin American conflicts that we've been more aware of because they happened in our lifetimes (if you're a Baby Boomer).

One of the greatest political novels in any language, Nostromo reenacts the establishment of modern capitalism in a remote South American province locked between the Andes and the Pacific. In the harbor town of Sulaco, a vivid cast of characters is caught up in a civil war to decide whether its fabulously wealthy silver mine, funded by American money but owned by a third-generation English immigrant, can be preserved from the hands of venal politicians. Greed and corruption seep into the lives of everyone, and Nostromo, the principled foreman of the mine, is tested to the limit.

Another main point that Nostromo makes is that colonialism and imperialism can have a devastating impact on the people of the colonized countries. This was a theme in Orwell's early writings in which he attempted to convey the consequences of British imperialism in India. In this novel Conrad shows how the silver mine in Costaguana is exploited by the British and other foreign interests, and how the profits from the mine benefit a small elite while the majority of the people live in poverty and squalor. This exploitation took place thoughout the New World. When we lived in Mexico we visited two cities where silver mines had been stripped bare by the Spanish, for the benefit of Spain.

Here are four takeaways from Nostromo:

1) The importance of individual responsibility and the dangers of blindly following authority.

2) The fragility of social order and the difficulty of creating lasting change.

3) The power of nature and the limitations of human control.

4) The ambiguity of good and evil and the difficulty of making moral choices in a complex world.  

"Having had to encounter single-handed during his period of eclipse many physical dangers, he was well aware of the most dangerous element common to them all: of the crushing, paralyzing sense of human littleness, which is what really defeats a man struggling with natural forces, alone, far from the eyes of his fellows."
--Joseph Conrad, Nostromo

Related
Nostromo Summary
The Mission's Pointed Questions

Twelve Great Quotes by Ten Great Writers... On Writing

Photo by Art Lasovsky on Unsplash

While looking for a quote to embellish my recent blog post on The Murders in the Rue Morgue, I came across this first quote below by Edgar Allen Poe. It was so true and so intriguing that I decided to scrounge around to find eleven siblings to accompany it. If you're a writer I'm certain you will enjoy these.

How many good books suffer neglect through the inefficiency of their beginnings!
--Edgar Allen Poe

Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear which is inherent in the human condition. --Graham Greene

A petty reason perhaps why novelists more and more try to keep a distance from journalists is that novelists are trying to write the truth and journalists are trying to write fiction.--Graham Greene

Photo by Andrew Perfetti Photography

There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
--Edith Wharton

Fiction pays best of all and when it is of fair quality is more easily sold. A good joke will sell quicker than a good poem, and, measured in sweat and blood, will bring better remuneration.--Jack London

Don't loaf and invite inspiration; light out after it with a club, and if you don't get it you will nonetheless get something that looks remarkably like it.--Jack London

Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.--John Steinbeck

In plucking the fruit of memory one runs the risk of spoiling its bloom.--Joseph Conrad

There is a sort of man who pays no attention to his good actions, but is tormented by his bad ones. This is the type that most often writes about himself.--Somerset Maugham

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”--Anton Chekhov

“Your intuition knows what to write, so get out of the way.”--Ray Bradbury

“Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. Most people don’t see any.”--Orson Scott Card

To my writer friends....write on! 

To all the rest, make the most of your day and,,,  

Thanks for reading. 

Three Local Arts Happenings of Note, Plus Big Date and a Couple Quotes

"I like simple, practical, emotional, quiet, vigorous art." 

--Richard Long

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Can't wait for the weekend? Looking for a temporary diversion to hold you over? Check out McTavish.io, homepage of Kathy McTavish, creator of exhibits running concurrently at the Tweed and the newly opened Joseph Nease Gallery.

* * * *

It's the nature of time to perpetually flow, to unfold into something else.
And what will tomorrow bring? Here are three events to consider for Friday.

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There's a lot happening at AICHO these days. There's an Artist Group Exhibit & 2018 Calendar Release this coming Friday from 5:30 - 7:30 p.m.  Visit this page for details of other upcoming events. 

ALSO THIS FRIDAY

Keyport Lounge is hosting...

Friday @ 6:00 p.m.

Oldenburg House will be jammin' again this weekend:

Pippi Ardennia and friends... both Friday & Saturday eve.

Cookin' @ the O

Time to mention Frank Holmes' Big Date again.

* * * *

“The role of the artist is to ask questions, not answer them.” 

 ― Anton Chekhov

Ars Longa, Vita Brevis

“And so it is… Art is long and life is short, and success is very far off. And thus, doubtful of strength to travel so far, we talk a little about the aim – the aim of art which, like life itself, is inspiring, difficult – obscured by mists.” ~ Joseph Conrad 

And so it goes.

Writing Tip #14: Audio Books

ADVICE TO YOUNG WRITERS DEPT.

At a certain point in time writing became a calling for me. It wasn't just something I wanted to do because I liked doing it. Rather, there was a sense of divine appointment, a sense in which the meaning of my life was associated with it.

Once I had this understanding I began to do everything in my power to excel at it. I read the writers magazines, attended writers conferences and read as many books about writing as I could find, gleaning insights from each and making them my own. One of these, Sherwood Wirt's You Can Tell the World, made a special point of saying that if we want to write great literature we must be readers of great literature, familiar not only with the names but the works themselves. So it was that I began a crash course on great literature.

Not that I'd never read classic books before. My college years were devoted primarily to philosophy and art. I was simply behind. Audio books enabled me to play catch up.

It was quite surprising to see how many authors had been recorded. The first one that I listened to was a Joseph Conrad story, The Lagoon, recorded by some British actor with a deep resonant voice not unlike our more contemporary James Earl Jones. His rendition of the story moved me. The story is potent and the delivery was up to the task. I immediately became a fan of Conrad.

Next I began taking out sets of cassettes from the library. The short stories of Jack London. The short stories of Ernest Hemingway. The short stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald. My evenings were full with writing or social obligations, so while painting apartments in Minneapolis I would listen to literature. Multi-tasking, before the word had been coined and adopted as a cultural norm.

The audio cassette market eventually yielded to CDs with millions of books being sold each year. Libraries filled with these, too, in time. With the advent of broadband internet, digital books became as easy to download as videos and movies and now represent more than 60% of the market.

The real message here has to do with commitment and making sacrifices. In his opening chapter Wirt states, "If you have been ordained to write, woe to you if you put everything else first."

When you're young I don't believe it's possible to realize how much time there is in a life, nor how much one can accomplish once you choose to give it focus. Examples abound....

So what are you waiting for? Seize the day!

Cruel and Unusual

"When the truth is replaced by silence, the silence is a lie." ~ Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Three decades ago I picked up Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn's Gulag Archipelago and couldn't put it down. It's a fairly massive volume of story after story of the horrors committed in Soviet Russia under communism. Without a free press, a whole system of atrocity could exist. It was a horror, and not the way civilized peoples were meant to co-exist in "the good society."

Solzhenitsyn detailed a brutality limited only by the imaginations of men. These are the kinds of things one imagines Kurtz was referring to in Conrad's Heart of Darkness when he uttered that verdict on the nature of his heart: "The horror." Yet Kurtz himself simultaneously confides, "I had immense plans."

Conrad's story is a work of fiction, though often fiction can be a better mirror of reality than what passes for non-fiction sometimes.

The twentieth century has been filled with horror. Pol Pot in Cambodia, Saddam Hussein in Iraq, the Ottoman Turks' efforts to eliminate the Armenians, Mao's starvation of 35 million Chinese peasants in the fifties. Much of what was going down occurred because in these dark places there was no free press. There was no light.

But when the lights were turned on at Abu Graib, it made us uncomfortable to discover that our country had been similarly making horror. When the pictures hit the Internet, Americans winced. That's because our Eighth Amendment to the Constitution states: Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted. This kind of thing could not be condoned. Yet in other places, out of sight and out of mind, horrors will continue unabated.

On another front, the fighting continues in Gaza. The Israeli army has fired on aid trucks and a Red Cross ambulance trying to help the wounded. Innocents are starving, but who will intercede? The U.N. Security Council has called for a cease fire in a 14-0 vote (the U.S. abstained), but will there be any action taken? At least in this situation, there are cameras rolling, and people of conscience can at least see what is going on, if they would but look.

No wonder Dylan once wrote, "I've seen the kingdoms of this world, and it's making me feel afraid."

Ars Longa, Vita Brevis

“And so it is… Art is long and life is short, and success is very far off. And thus, doubtful of strength to travel so far, we talk a little about the aim – the aim of art which, like life itself, is inspiring, difficult – obscured by mists.” ~ Joseph Conrad

So many of today’s magazines and books on writing focus on the process of writing, with the subtle message that if your words dazzle and sing you will be a success. Too often, they overlook the fact that a writer needs to have something to say, a message worth printing, a story worth telling. Even when this is so, there is no guarantee of success, for “the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, but time and chance happen to them all.”

Nevertheless, we press on. We speak because we are impelled to speak, write because of an inner necessity. And at night, on our beds, we dream dreams.

My story Terrorists Preying, like many of my stories, began as a dream. The dream became the story’s seed, and as I breathed on it the breath of life it grew. Gide once wrote that his best work was produced little by little, rather than in great bursts of energy like Asimov, who sprayed more than 300 books into existence.

They say writers would do best to write about what they know. Sometimes the struggle is in part to identify what we know and don't know. Where does knowledge and knowing come from? And where do you stop once you start asking questions like "Who am I?" and "Why am I here?" And how do you establish your significance as a person? Terrorists Preying is one man’s struggle with these issues, with these kinds of questions.

“The person who appreciates a great work of art has the feeling that the work grows in him as he becomes involved in a prolonged capturing of emerging marginal meanings. He feels that he, too, is creative, that he himself is adding to his experience and understanding. Moreover, he wants to confront the work of art many times. He is not easily tired of it, as he would be had he read a purely logical statement. He realizes that the work of art does not merely transmit information; it produces pleasure.” ~ Silvano Arieti

What you've just read here is from the introduction to my second self published booklet called Potpourri. The first included Lu Lee and the Magic Cat, The Young Messenger and An Introduction to the Story of Samson & Delilah. The second Potpourri was the longer Terrorists Preying.

I love the Arieti quote. It explains why we never tire of the movies, poetry, art or music that we love. On my next Short Story Monday I will share the beginning of Terrorists Preying. I invested a lot of myself into that one.

And in the meantime, carpe diem. Seize the day!