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By Richard Niland, Oxford University
Mario Curreli, editor. The
Ugo Mursia Memorial Lectures: Volume 2. Pisa: Edizione
ETS, 2004. 30€
This handsomely presented volume, which does,
however, contain some recurring typographical errors, brings together
papers delivered at the Second International Conrad Conference,
held in Pisa in September 2004, to commemorate the eminent Italian
Conradian Ugo Mursia (1916-82).
Reflecting their emergence from conference proceedings, the essays
collected here are, somewhat expectedly, a mixture of well-presented
original research alongside more conventional observations on Conrad
and his work. The Conference focus was "Conrad and Italy," but the
book roughly splits into four sections, focussing on Conrad and
the Classical world, Conrad and history, Conrad's Italian reception,
and a final miscellaneous section on various aspects of Conrad's
work.
The volume opens with essays by respected Conradians
Zdzislaw Najder and Andrzej Busza on the intersections between Conrad's
work and Classical literature. As Najder notes, "In the whole immense
critical literature on Conrad there is not a single general study
dealing with the presence of Greek and Latin traditions in his work"
(19). Najder's survey of classical influences on Conrad from his
probable encounter with Aristotle's Nicomachean
Ethics in his schooldays to the pervasive presence of Virgil
and Dante in his work sets the ground for Busza's interesting reading
of the still neglected The Rover,
in which Peyrol's final adventure is interpreted as Conrad's artistic
representation of the classical nostos
or homecoming.
Importantly, Busza also understands The
Rover as Conrad's means of engaging with contemporary European
history at the end of his life, as Conrad "offers reflections on
the effects of political violence and social upheaval on the individual
and the community - a topic obviously relevant in the years immediately
following the First World War and the Bolshevik Revolution" (39).
Thus, along with recent work by Hugh Epstein, Busza helps to save
The Rover from being regarded
as a straightforward retreat into Napoleonic history in Conrad's
last years.
David Lucking and Yannick Le Boulicaut analyze
the presence of Classical and biblical myths and fables in The
Nigger of the "Narcissus" and The
Rescue, respectively. Lucking's reading of The
Nigger offers a convincing case for the presence of echoes
of both the stories of Narcissus and Orpheus as symbolic of the
philosophical dilemmas inherent in Conrad's depiction of the crew's
relationship with James Wait, but rather unfortunately for Le Boulicaut,
his conjectures on Captain Lingard and the Catholic concept of limbo
have been prematurely dated by Pope Benedict XVI's recent decision
to put that peculiar suspended state of theological torment to bed.
However, ultimately, according to Le Boulicaut, "since language
is deceptive, since it deforms experience," for Conrad, classical
and biblical motifs, myths, and fables "help better express such
experiences" (64).
These papers, then, offer some nice speculations
on Conrad's use of the Classical literary heritage. Unfortunately,
however, they fail to consider some more obvious Classical influences,
such as Herodotus, who, for this reviewer, represents one of Conrad's
most important Classical models not only in his method of assembling
various oral and written testimonies in order to produce his own
written history (as does Marlow in Lord
Jim, and indeed does Conrad in his fiction generally) but
also in the clear affinities between Lord Jim and the story of Adrastus
in Book I of The Histories,
in which a young man "under a cloud" comes in shame to the Lydia
of King Croesus only to cause the death of Croesus' son and ultimately
submit to a ritualistic death by suicide.
The second group of essays focus on questions
of history, primarily in Nostromo.
Sylvère Monod examines the power of the three Viola women in Nostromo
over the Capataz, labelling them "the three witches" in acknowledgement
of Conrad's short story "The Inn of the Two Witches," which Monod
refreshingly judges to be Conrad's "feeblest piece of fiction" (66).
Laurence Davies's essay is a fine examination of the relationship
between Conrad and the work of Lily Voynich, author of The
Gadfly (1897). Davies contrasts Conrad's avowed dislike of
that novel with the thematic, political, and geographical correspondences
between it and Nostromo, with
his essay offering an example of the potentially infinite possibilities
for research lying dormant in Conrad's correspondence.
Jean M. Szczypien's essay on Nostromo
and its supposed treatment of specific aspects of Polish cultural
history - in this case the red boots of Polish noblemen and the
literature of Mickiewicz, Slowacki, and Krasinski - offers a textbook
example of one of the weaknesses of many critical approaches to
Conrad's Polish background. While it is evident that Conrad's complex
relationship with Poland and the many manifestations of the idea
of Poland inform his work to a degree of almost incalculable importance,
there is a tendency in Conrad criticism to ignore the larger philosophical
and cultural manifestations of the Polish idea in Conrad's writing
in the effort to locate minor borrowings from Polish literature
and history.
The rigidity of this approach is reflected
in overdependence for historical evidence and support on Norman
Davies's God's Playground,
which, admittedly seminal, none the less remains a general and popular
study of Polish history. This strange co-habitation of a need to
stress the infinite complexities and minutiae of Polish history
with an obdurate reliance on a single source for this history is
even more puzzling in the criticism of an author whose writings
encourage myriad interpretations and competing voices. In place
of such particular studies of Conrad's past, criticism that focuses
on the Polish aspects of Conrad's writings needs to find a more
philosophical base and engage with the output of other historians
of Poland, particularly nineteenth-century Poland, such as the influential
studies of Andrzej Walicki or the recent work of Brian Porter.
This search for minor, specific Polish influences
in Conrad's work can also lead to a distortion of Conrad's major
treatments of Polish history. Szczypien claims that in A
Personal Record, Conrad "aggrandized his ancestors delineating
them with mythic stature" (84), yet the case of the luckless Nicholas
B., whose experiences both evoke and simultaneously undermine the
grandeur of Napoleon's Grande Armée,
surely indicates the "irreconcilable antagonisms" in Conrad view
of his Polish background.
Cedric Watts "Reflections on Giorgio Viola"
and Mario Curelli's "Intertextuality and Myth in Nostromo"
offer enlightening readings of Conrad's masterpiece. Watts again
highlights the importance of Cunninghame Graham's works in Conrad's
creative process, reminding us that Graham's influence extends far
beyond the evidence of the extant correspondence. Watts importantly
closes by reinforcing that "Conrad made his living as an entertainer,
not as a preacher; and Nostromo
is not a political tract but a work of intelligent entertainment.
. The value of a literary text lies not in its paraphrasable messages,
however worthy they may be, but in our experience of the work's
totality" (118-19).
The volume's central essays treat the Italian connection with
Conrad's works, offering papers on Conrad's influence on later Italian
writers and on his broader critical reception in Italy in the twentieth
century. Some of these essays, while interesting, strike one as
rather subjective in their quite random approach to the sometimes
tenuous relationship claimed by the authors to exist between Conrad
and chosen Italian literati, such as Ennio Flaiano, Dacia Maraini,
Carlo Levi, Alberto Moravia, Cesare Pavese, and Guiseppe Berto.
Papers by Mario Domenichelli on Flaiano's
Tempo di uccidere, Michel
Arouimi on Levi's Cristo si è fermato
a Eboli, and Laura Giovannelli on Moravia, Pavese, and Berto,
draw attention to Conradian echoes in the works of the Italian authors
mentioned. However, there is something superfluous in the extended
treatment of broad Conradian motifs in writers following Conrad,
when anyone familiar with Conrad's oeuvre can detect his influence
throughout twentieth-century literature without needing fully to
investigate intertextual echoes that may have merely made one pause
for a few seconds' thought whilst reading.
The exception to this criticism is in the essays
dealing with Conrad's influence on Dacia Maraini, particularly in
the explorations of her 1996 translation of "The Secret Sharer."
Elena Paruolo presents a transcription of an interview with the
author in which one can read of Maraini's appreciation of Conrad's
works and the difficulties of translation, along with the persistence
of more stereotypical and hard-to-kill attitudes such as the belief
that Conrad "betrayed" his homeland and his language (155).
Both Gian Mario Benzing and Fausto Ciompi's
contributions on the critical reception of Conrad in Italy are valuable
surveys for the English reader based on solid research. Benzing
offers a brief biographical and bibliographical note on Mario Benzing
(1896-1958), an early Italian translator of Conrad. Ciompi's essay
here is one of the volume's highlights. It importantly notes the
work done by Conrad scholars in Italy and the tendency amongst English-speaking
critics to overlook scholarship not Anglophone in origin. Discussing
early appreciations of Conrad's writing, such as those by Carlo
Placcidi in Il marzocco in
1911 and by Emilio Cecchi in Il convegno in 1924, Ciompi also draws
attention to a 1992 article by Carlo Pagetti noting the appearance
in Blackwood's Magazine in
October 1892 of a piece by Edward Braddon entitled Tasmania and
its Silver-Fields, which discussed a government geologist named
Charles Gould "who explores Tasmania's mines and silver fields"
(227).
Gene M. Moore, examining Suspense,
looks at the tangled question of Conrad's intentions in his last
work and the influence, or lack of it, of Richard Curle on the published
version. He concludes, presumably in anticipation of his Cambridge
Edition of the novel, that Conrad was closer to completing it than
is indicated by the "great legend" of the mighty, unfinished fragment.
As noted elsewhere, however, Volume 7 of The
Collected Letters (2005) reveals that Conrad felt Suspense
to be about half completed in December 1922, with scant work
done after that date.
Such understandable and necessary interest
in establishing a reliable critical text has certainly been the
cause of critics' relative failure to treat the subjects that did
occupy Conrad in his last years, namely Napoleon and French history.
Anne Luyat on The Arrow of Gold
and Suspense goes some way
towards redressing this imbalance, offering a reading of Conrad's
last works that draws from French literature, particularly Balzac,
and history, an approach that uses a still fruitful method of illuminating
Conrad's writing, adding to work by Paul Kirschner, Yves Hervouet,
Owen Knowles, and J. H. Stape.
Amongst the volume's concluding papers is an
informative discussion by Phillip Olleson of Richard Rodney Bennett's
operatic version of Victory,
produced and staged in London and Berlin in the early 1970s. Olleson
notes, quite correctly, that the importance of music in Conrad's
work has yet to be fully explored. Finally, Robert G. Hampson looks
at The Secret Agent and "The
Informer" in the context of Conrad's familiarity with anarchist
literature. Some of Hampson's observations, such as the incongruous
case of the founders of the anarchist journal The
Torch, Olive, Arthur, and Helen Rosetti, quite daintily having
tea with the notorious anarchist Peter Kropotkin in The British
Museum, help one better understand the origins of Conrad's ironic
and subversive treatment of this particular
fin de siècle "threat" to Western society.
Thus, considering the diversity of the papers
included here, this volume can be regarded overall as a worthy successor
to the original Ugo Mursia Memorial
Lectures (1983), revealing Conrad's continuing power to appeal
to readers adopting a wide range of critical perspectives, yet his
graceful refusal to ultimately lie in the arms of any one of these
scholarly embraces.
© 2006 Richard Niland
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