Status
Available
Call number
Genres
Collection
Publication
Penguin Books Ltd (1974), Paperback, 368 pages
Description
Classic Literature. Fiction. HTML: One of Joseph Conrad's most popular works, this rich, complex tale provides an account of the woebegone heiress Flora de Barral, whose dearth of life experience has left her virtually incapable of caring for herself. Narrated from several different points of view, this book is a fine example of the literary virtuosity that has prompted many critics to name Conrad as one the greatest English fiction stylists..
User reviews
LibraryThing member rocketjk
Chance is not considered to be one of Conrad's great works, a judgement with which I concur, although somewhat ironically the book provided Conrad's first major commercial success. I have, and have read, a collection of Conrad's letters to Edward Garnett. Garnett was one of Conrad's first champions
Personally, I cannot stress enough that if anyone is looking to explore Conrad's fiction for the first time, this book is most emphatically not the place to start. Please.
All that said, Chance is still Conrad, even if it's not Conrad in top form. For a Conrad lover like me, happy to dig into one of the author's few novels that I hadn't read yet, this still meant a mostly happy reading experience. The story is a romance at its heart, but to say much more than that would already present a plot spoiler. The best part of the book is its first half, in which the background of the story's female protagonist is described by our old pal, Marlow. The conflict of the second half revolves around a plot twist, the kind of misunderstanding perpetuated only by the sort of reticence between two people that one rarely finds outside of fiction, that made me impatient for quite for about 50 or 60 pages. But, the whole time, I did want to know how the whole thing was going to be developed and what would happen to the characters, and that, in addition to my loyalty to Conrad, kept me going.
And, especially in the book's first half, we are treated to many a wonderful Conrad-esque observation and/or description, and to Conrad's often puckish humor, especially where the relations between men and women are concerned. To wit:
" . . . I could not tell what sort of sustenance she would look for from my sagacity. And as to taking stock of the wares of my mind, no one, I imagine, is anxious to do that sort of thing if it can be avoided. A vaguely grandiose state of mental self-confidence is much too agreeable to be disturbed recklessly by such a delicate investigation. Perhaps if I had had a helpful woman at my elbow, a dear, flattering, acute devoted woman . . . There are in life moments in life when one positively regrets not being married."
Also of interest, to me at least, were some of the comments Conrad makes in his Author's Note, written in 1920, seven years after Chance's original publication:
"A critic had remarked that if I had selected another method of composition and taken a little more trouble the tale could have been told in about two hundred pages {or about 170 pages shorter, in other words - rjk}. I confess I do not perceive exactly the bearings of such criticism or even the use of such a remark. No doubt that by selecting a certain method and taking great pains, the whole story might have been written out on a cigarette paper. For that matter, the whole history of mankind could be written thus if only approached with sufficient detachment. The history of men on this earth since the beginning of time may be resumed in one phrase of infinite poignancy: They were born, they suffered, they died . . . Yet it is a great tale! But in the infinitely minute stories about men and women it is my lot on earth to narrate I am not capable of such detachment."
In speaking of the book's successful reception, Conrad remarks:
"It {the art of writing fiction} is indeed too arduous in the sense that the effort must be invariably so much greater than the possible achievement. In that sort of foredoomed task which is in its nature very lonely also, sympathy is is a precious thing. It can make the most severe criticism welcome. To be told that better things have been expected of one may be soothing in view of how much better things one had expected from oneself . . ."
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within the publishing world, Conrad's editor early in his career, and good friend through his life. I thumbed through the brief biographical sketch Garnett offers at the beginning of the volume. Garnett comments that he believed that the commercial success and public renown that finally came Conrad's way with Chance, despite the generally positive critical reaction to his earlier (and better) works, may have had as much to do with the fact that there was a woman's portrait on the cover as anything else.Personally, I cannot stress enough that if anyone is looking to explore Conrad's fiction for the first time, this book is most emphatically not the place to start. Please.
All that said, Chance is still Conrad, even if it's not Conrad in top form. For a Conrad lover like me, happy to dig into one of the author's few novels that I hadn't read yet, this still meant a mostly happy reading experience. The story is a romance at its heart, but to say much more than that would already present a plot spoiler. The best part of the book is its first half, in which the background of the story's female protagonist is described by our old pal, Marlow. The conflict of the second half revolves around a plot twist, the kind of misunderstanding perpetuated only by the sort of reticence between two people that one rarely finds outside of fiction, that made me impatient for quite for about 50 or 60 pages. But, the whole time, I did want to know how the whole thing was going to be developed and what would happen to the characters, and that, in addition to my loyalty to Conrad, kept me going.
And, especially in the book's first half, we are treated to many a wonderful Conrad-esque observation and/or description, and to Conrad's often puckish humor, especially where the relations between men and women are concerned. To wit:
" . . . I could not tell what sort of sustenance she would look for from my sagacity. And as to taking stock of the wares of my mind, no one, I imagine, is anxious to do that sort of thing if it can be avoided. A vaguely grandiose state of mental self-confidence is much too agreeable to be disturbed recklessly by such a delicate investigation. Perhaps if I had had a helpful woman at my elbow, a dear, flattering, acute devoted woman . . . There are in life moments in life when one positively regrets not being married."
Also of interest, to me at least, were some of the comments Conrad makes in his Author's Note, written in 1920, seven years after Chance's original publication:
"A critic had remarked that if I had selected another method of composition and taken a little more trouble the tale could have been told in about two hundred pages {or about 170 pages shorter, in other words - rjk}. I confess I do not perceive exactly the bearings of such criticism or even the use of such a remark. No doubt that by selecting a certain method and taking great pains, the whole story might have been written out on a cigarette paper. For that matter, the whole history of mankind could be written thus if only approached with sufficient detachment. The history of men on this earth since the beginning of time may be resumed in one phrase of infinite poignancy: They were born, they suffered, they died . . . Yet it is a great tale! But in the infinitely minute stories about men and women it is my lot on earth to narrate I am not capable of such detachment."
In speaking of the book's successful reception, Conrad remarks:
"It {the art of writing fiction} is indeed too arduous in the sense that the effort must be invariably so much greater than the possible achievement. In that sort of foredoomed task which is in its nature very lonely also, sympathy is is a precious thing. It can make the most severe criticism welcome. To be told that better things have been expected of one may be soothing in view of how much better things one had expected from oneself . . ."
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LibraryThing member Porius
Sailors are sticklers for detail.
LibraryThing member hbergander
In the early nineties, Microsoft's developers advertised their Windows programs with the promise: What you see is what you get (shortened Wysiwyg). In Conrad's Novel a woman from a sheltered home marries a captain. If I recall it rightly, things turn out to be unexpected for her like in Microsoft's
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promise, maliciously twisted by PC users: What you see is what you NEVER get (Wysiwyng). Show Less
LibraryThing member lucybrown
I began this book about 20 years ago, then it went missing and I never returned to it. I was enjoying it. Will have to go back to it
LibraryThing member LeRigby
Although in many ways this is a complex narrative, the story in essence is quite straight forward. I will give this in outline without giving too much away.
Flora de Barral is the only child of a rising star in the world of London finance, the founder of a new investment bank that soon crashes after
Enter the Fynes who are neighbours of Flora and witness her practically instantaneous ruin. One minute she is the heiress of an apparent vast fortune, the next completely pauperized. Ultimately Flora is taken under Mrs. Fynes wing, who is apparently sympathetic to her plight but in whom she also finds in her, and other lost young female souls, a useful sponge to expound her early feminist thought. It is while Flora is staying with the Fynes in the countryside that she is introduced to Mrs. Fynes emotionally repressed brother Anthony, a lonely thirty-something Captain in the merchant marine. Through Flora Anthony's repressed sexual and emotional fervour find full force, however the motives behind Flora's acceptance and marriage to Anthony are from the first questioned.
Whilst the basic plot is simple, the novel's complexity arises from Conrad's exploration of the psychological motives behind the actions of the various characters. The story also provides a vehicle for Conrad, through his narrator Marlow, to muse on various philosophical points concerning human nature and the motives of men. The prose style is rich, complex and subtle; it is a book that most readers will need to read with great care (as I did) as it is quite easy to get lost in the complexity of the narrative. It is however worth the effort as Conrad slowly draws you into this strange intrigue and also transports the reader into the lonely scenes of Conrad's late Victorian/ Edwardian England; the bleak Thames estuary, lonely dockyards, grey East End Street's and its underclass in the shadows.
The climax of the plot (which I won't divulge for obvious reasons) was no doubt a concession to commerciality and sits a little strangely with the rest of the books tone. However the book is hugely rewarding and won't disappoint fans of Conrad.
Flora de Barral is the only child of a rising star in the world of London finance, the founder of a new investment bank that soon crashes after
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as string of bad investments, taking the savings of the great and the good along with it. The great de Barral is subsequently arrested, tried and locked up in prison. Flora, whose Mother is deceased, is left effectively orphaned by this catastrophe and left at the mercy of an unforgiving world.Enter the Fynes who are neighbours of Flora and witness her practically instantaneous ruin. One minute she is the heiress of an apparent vast fortune, the next completely pauperized. Ultimately Flora is taken under Mrs. Fynes wing, who is apparently sympathetic to her plight but in whom she also finds in her, and other lost young female souls, a useful sponge to expound her early feminist thought. It is while Flora is staying with the Fynes in the countryside that she is introduced to Mrs. Fynes emotionally repressed brother Anthony, a lonely thirty-something Captain in the merchant marine. Through Flora Anthony's repressed sexual and emotional fervour find full force, however the motives behind Flora's acceptance and marriage to Anthony are from the first questioned.
Whilst the basic plot is simple, the novel's complexity arises from Conrad's exploration of the psychological motives behind the actions of the various characters. The story also provides a vehicle for Conrad, through his narrator Marlow, to muse on various philosophical points concerning human nature and the motives of men. The prose style is rich, complex and subtle; it is a book that most readers will need to read with great care (as I did) as it is quite easy to get lost in the complexity of the narrative. It is however worth the effort as Conrad slowly draws you into this strange intrigue and also transports the reader into the lonely scenes of Conrad's late Victorian/ Edwardian England; the bleak Thames estuary, lonely dockyards, grey East End Street's and its underclass in the shadows.
The climax of the plot (which I won't divulge for obvious reasons) was no doubt a concession to commerciality and sits a little strangely with the rest of the books tone. However the book is hugely rewarding and won't disappoint fans of Conrad.
Show Less
LibraryThing member rsairs
Not my favorite Conrad novel. I've read Lord Jim, the Secret Agent and Heart of Darkness. There is a not quite humorous enough pedantry in Marlow--the story's narrator. I didn't quite know when I was supposed to laugh. That said, there were many profound observations about life and chance in the
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book. Show Less
Subjects
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
1913
Physical description
368 p.; 7.1 inches
ISBN
0140038213 / 9780140038217