Victory is in many ways more fluid and readable than Conrad's more dense works (for comparison sake I'd previously read Heart of Darkness and Conrad's collection of short stories Tales of Unrest.) In Victory we have Conrad's standard fare of tragedy and man's isolation, but in this case wrapped in a tale of adventure and swept along by an uncharacteristically eventful plot.

Conrad's works have, of course, been reviewed to exhaustion; the only thing that I could hope to add would be my emotional response to the novel as a reader.

Personally through the majority of the novel I found Heyst to be the only truly well defined character. Much of what we learn of him is revealed indirectly through the observations of others, but somehow Conrad manages to use this method to flesh out a complex and intriguing figure in Heyst. The remanding characters, while interesting, serve mostly as scenery. The villains Jones and Ricardo, while interesting, struck me not so much as human characters but as forces of impending doom; they could have as easily been an approaching storm or a plague or any other brand of natural disaster. The girl Lena in the end is the one exception; perhaps the one thing that I found most gratifying is the way in which her character developed as the novel neared its climax.

The Penguin Classics version is well footnoted for those of you (like me) that would have missed some of the more obscure Biblical references and allusions to Paradise Lost. The notes also comment on the narrator's shifting viewpoint, and on revisions Conrad made to subsequent editions. For those readers interested in an insight into Conrad's thinking I'd recommend this version.

Victory is the story of a man named Heyst who leads an isolated life in the South Pacific. However, he is drawn out of his isolation when he brings a woman to his island home. A chance encounter between a dishonest German who dislikes Heyst and two criminals sets up the dramatic ending. Conrad's style is as fluid as in his better known books, such as Lord Jim, and it is amazing that someone could write English so well who did not learn it until later in life and who always spoke it with a heavy Polish accent. Victory is similar to Conrad's other works in that the plot flirts with melodrama, but always is rooted in realism. Those who read the book will find the title apt.

Victory is the best of the handful of Conrad novels I have read (for reference sake, the others are Lord Jim, The Secret Agent, Heart of Darkness, and Nostromo). For one thing, the other novels were much heavier in their narrative and descriptive content. As a result, I often suffered from mental imagery overload when plodding through a page-long paragraph. Victory has more dialogue, making it an easier read. Conrad's characters are always great, and the ones in this book are no exception. I also really liked the correlation between these characters and their environment. Heyst living in a serene yet isolated island matched his aloofness perfectly. As the book reaches its climax and tensions reach a boiling point, Conrad adds to this tension in godlike fashion, as the storm evinces the internal and external struggles occurring in Heyst. Of course, Conrad don't write no happy tales (sic), but in the end, I think that the title Victory was still very appropriate. This was an excellent read and one of the best novels I have read in a long time.

Conrad is a real star, I'm rather fond of him. Under Western Eyes is about living in a time of revolutionary urgency, individual fragility in a delicate system, and personal honor.

To summarize; Razumov, the 'Hero' is a university student in Russia post 1905 but pre 1917 who keeps to himself and has no real family and no close friends. A fellow student and a revolutionary, Victor Haldin, assasinates a local oppressive Tsarist autocrat. He then takes a chance and takes momentary asylum with Razumov, asking him to help him get out of the city. Razumov is an evolutionary progressive, not a revolutionary. Not willing to risk association with a radical like Haldin and destroy his entire life, Razumov turns him in to the police, and Haldin is subsequently hung.

The rest of the novel deals with Razumov's struggle with himself- he betrayed, and he has to live with a lie. Complicating things, he falls in love with Haldin's sister in exile. Raz can't bear it though, and eventually he does the right thing, but things get messy.

Thats the general plot, but the real meat of the novel is in the characters and the ideas underlying the conversations between them. The idea of how you justify revolution, the chaos of revolution vs the order of gradual reform, the unwillingness and helplessness of the individual caught in it all. And there's a continual theme of the diference between East and West.

Razumov reminds me a bit of Crime and Punishment's Raskolnikov- an isolated university student waxing the time away in a single apartment, brooding over Big Ideas and being slowly crushed by a powerful conscience. The stuff of modernity. Dostoyevsky was a little bit better, so thats why Under Western Eyes only gets 4 stars.

If you are familiar enough with Conrad's writing you will know he has a few favorite words - like "inscrutable" and "destiny". They reflect I believe Conrad's literary outlook. He likes to take characters, give them a haunted past with some shameful secret, emphasize a fatal weakness, introduce some culminating stimulae, and watch the tragic unfold. I think he could have written a brilliant biography of Richard Nixon. But to the point..."Under Western Eyes" is a quintessentially Conradian book. But unlike many of his other novels - Lord Jim, Nostromo, Victory - "Under Western Eyes" treats of period politics (namely the revolutionary movement on the rise in Europe) as he weaves his tale of betrayal and tragedy. There are no heroes in this book (save perhaps one) but only a motley collection of victims, fools, and eccentrics. There is not much action, despite its subject matter. I don't want to give away too much. The story unfolds in Moscow and Geneva, not around political machinations but around the tragedy of the central character, a young Russian thrown into the revolutionary movement entirely against his will. The saga of the young man's anger, self-loathing, and attempts to extricate himself from his "situation" form one salient plot of the novel. The ultimate solution to his unsought conundrum also serves to redeem him in his own eyes, if not those of others.

"Under Western Eyes" is also an attempt by Conrad to explore the peculiarities of the "Russian character". This is another line of development in the work. I put this in partentheses because such notions of racial character are naturally not so well received now as in Conrad's day. Whether you agree or not, Conrad (who himself was Polish) offers some interesting personal insights into the nature of the "inscrutable" Russian soul - its ability to persevere, its mysticism, its ultimate radicalism. Such issues were particular relevent to the time the book was written (1908), as Russia was then already breaking out in revolutionary violence. The story's narrator - a retired English bachelor - are the "Western eyes" under which Russia is regarded.

I might label "Under Western Eyes" a comic-tragedy, in that the primary factor behind the story's tragic chain of events is a misunderstanding. It is ultimately for the book's central character a journey of personal redemtion. Within the context of this, however, Conrad details some of his views on Russia, its people, and the nature of the revolutionary movement. I did not find it as engaging as some of Conrad's other works but anyone interested in the Russian revolutionary movement, or radical politics of the period in general, or with a bent for stories of betrayal, tragedy, and love should take a look.

"Perhaps life is just that," reflected Razumov, pacing to and fro under the trees of the little island, all alone with the bronze statue of Rousseau. "A dream and a fear." It is on this small space of remote land that young Razumov finds what we all seek after--a place for quiet contemplation (reminds me of Hemingway's "A Clean Well-Lighted Place"). And in this very thought-provoking Rousseau-inspired environment Razumov stumbles upon the thesis that all of life is but a dream--a dream full of constant fear. The taciturn, exiled, young Razumov reminds us of Joyce's Stephen Dedalus, and even more so Dostoevsky's Raskolnikov. Indeed, Conrad attempted to continue the legacy of the great Russian novelists, by forcing an eclectic grasp on some of Dostoevsky's themes (like the need for, and final apparent conclusion of, man's suffering) whilst straying away from other Dostoevskyian qualities. All in all, Under Western Eyes is about ideas--as Conrad repeatedly suggests-an ideal gripping psychological tale of a young intellectual's suffering for choosing the path of the czarist leaders. If Razumov, like Stephen Dedalus, was more skeptical, more prone to the need for exile (not the exile he indeed does embark on to Geneva via the Councilor's strategic plan) would he have ultimately had his eardrums smashed by a revolutionary brute? Certainly, Razumov must confess for his betrayal of Haldin; Razumov realizes the intelligence, love, and raison d' étre of Haldin altogether too late. Razumov, who knowingly understands that because of his actions Haldin lost his life, gives up his own body for lifelong suffering. And by doing so, Razumov seems to willingly accept his punishment, and further he lives no longer in fear. Upon completion of this wonderful novel, we can bask in the warm sunny glow of Conrad's wit that shines upon us--"Peter Ivanovitch (or any person who opposes despotic cruelty) is an inspired man." Joseph Conrad is an inspired man.

An alternative title for this novel could be Amayer's rut.
For that is the situation that the main protagonist in this novel finds himself in. Almayer is a European trader living in a
trading post somewhere in Indonesia or Malaysia with his daughter,a product of mixed marriage.
Almayer dreams of escaping to Europe after making himself wealthy and bringing his daughter with him also.
But as time drags on it becomes obvious that he is going nowhere with his life. He is not getting richer nor is he getting any younger. His own daughter ends up deserting him by eloping with a native who takes her to his own village.
Not being a pure European by blood she realizes that she would never be accepted as an equal among Europeans or the whites.
For this reason she chooses instead to live with the natives.
As for Almayer he remains as he was.
He is an example that one can find everywhere in the world.
Someone stuck in a situation going nowhere but always dreaming of getting out and changing his life.

Almayer's folly is a powerful beginning to Conrad's second profession, writing. Since the story was written so close to Conrad's adventurous youth (the spring for his most powerful works), it provides the rawest expression of Conrad's views. Almayer, the prototype of Tuan Jim, takes the "leap" when he marries the Malay captive for promised wealth. This transgression drops his character into contact with the cold truths of nature; truths which dispel any artificial illusions or meanings. For Almayer, these illusions entailed sucess and fame in Europe, a place that he had never visited but only heard about from his mother. Superficially, this journey towards inner truth involves a journey into the wilds of Borneo, but,like in future Conrad works, we quickly realize that the journey is inward into the pysche of Almayer. Overall, an excellent introduction to Conrad.

Loosely based on the life of a Dutch merchant, setting up a trading post along a river in the interior of Borneo, Conrad's novel 'Almayer's Folly' is actually about man's alienation from his environment and eventually himself.

Written during the heyday of western imperialism, when the great powers of Europe subjected the tropics to their rule, the tale of Almayer explores how the tropics actually devoured the individual westerner.

The main character of the book is a man obsessed. Chasing a dream, he completely loses touch with reality. Although on the surface it may seem that he is a white man gone native, Almayer hasn't got a clue what he is dealing with. He is blind to the schemings of his Malay wife and equally oblivious to the fact that his daughter is drifting away from him.

Admittedly, the book has 'orientalist' overtones but, then, Joseph Conrad is both a man of his time and a master of poweful prose, not a politically-correct scholar. The stereotypical mystique of Asia and the inscrutable oriental are exploited as a literary means to descend into the deeper levels of man's psyche. Just like the 'true heart' of Borneo and its inhabitants is hidden under layer upon layer of deceiving images, so is the core of each and every individual. The scariest place to travel is not the interior of an Indonesian Island, but the inner reaches of our own soul.

Almayer's Folly is one of the best novels ever written. Not only because of the author's masterful portrayals of character, but also due his astounding command of English. It is hard to believe that Conrad's first and second language were Polish and French: he only learned English as an adult. It is this combination of psychological understanding and extraordinary use of language that make him into a literary genius.

Anyone who gives this book a bad review has no class. Jane Austen is one of the most celebrated writers in history. You just have to get past the fancy words. Beneath that is a classic and romantic story. Sense and Sensibility is the best romance novel I have ever read. I would recommend watching the movie first, though, if your Old English vocabulary isn't very strong.

I had the pleasure of reading two of Jane Austen's books, Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, and loved both of them. Austen writes in such a romatic way that you wish you could be there in person to experience every word. Anyone who found the book to be boring, needs to re-read it again. It speaks of honesty, integrity and love that is lacking in todays books. Elinor in, Sense and Sensability, was a strong and smart woman while on the other hand, the younger sister, Marianne, was weaker but became a stronger individual because of the strong bond between herself and Elinor. Every young girl should read Austen's work because it protrays love as good and bad and shows that no matter how much someone can love you, there maybe a hidden agenda behind that affection.

Sense and Sensibility is an excellent book. When I started it I really did not know what to expect, and was pleasantly surprised. I will say though that this book is hard to get through at times, due to the old language used. But if you stay with the book, it will be worth it. The characters are wonderful, and you will find yourself wanting them to be happy. The Dashwood family gives a "girl power" message that makes it even easier to enjoy. Also, this book is easy to relate to, for everyone has known a Maryanne or Elinor before, maybe you are like one of them. I could identify with Maryanne, because I am involved in everything (and love it all) and I know I share my feelings too much. Although this book will be enjoyed more by young females, anyone would like it, for it also has a lot of humor in it used to display the dramatic situations the Dashwood sisters keep finding themselves in. The book became even more enjoyable when I saw the movie, seeing this amazing book acted out was great. I believe all of Jane Austen's books are worth reading, this one especially!

Much has been said on the subject of colonial racism, and this still leaves a bitter tang in the throats of most historicially learned people. Still, we don't need this book. Conrad's Heart of Darkness is placed in the context of his time, and even when skimming the novell, one get the image that it is an attack on the imperialism of that time. Firchow goes after the wrong novell.

An impressive and delightful read and an awesome work by a world-class scholar-author and educator. It is as comprehensive and thorough a critical work as we are likely to find anywhere, on any work of fiction, whether or not canonical. I'm a reader who feasts on literary and scholary criticism. Showing quite a bit of his lively mind and personality at work, Firchow's study of Heart of Darkness is a humbling and joyous reading experience.

Heart of Darkness has become a politically controversial book bringing the issue of racism into the foreground. Firchow counters the accusations of racism that have been made and defends his opinion of Conrad's book with solid arguments.

Like all devoted lovers of Jane Austen, I have long pondered why she chose to write this, of all books, at time she was experiencing the intoxicating success of Pride and Prejudice.

The protagonist is a loathesome little priss. Austen herself says so in her letters. Fanny Price is neurotic and oversensitive where Austen's other heroines are brash and healthy. Even Austen's own family found the ending as odd and disappointing as do subsequent generations of readers.

So there's a puzzle to be solved here. The answer may lie in the fact that this book was written when, after a lifetime of obscurity, Austen found herself, briefly, a huge success. As is so often the case with writers, the success of her earlier book may have given her the courage to decided write about something that REALLY mattered to her--and what that was was her own very complex feelings about the intensely sexual appeal of a morally unworthy person.

This topic, the charm of the scoundrel, is one that flirts through all her other books, usually in a side plot. However, the constraints of Austen's day made it impossible for her to write the story of a woman who falls for a scoundrel with a sympathetic viewpoint character.

So what I think Austen may have decided to do was to write this story using Edmund--a male--as the sympathetic character who experiences the devastating sexual love of someone unworthy. Then, through a strange slight of hand, she gives us a decoy protagonist--Fanny Price, who if she is anything, is really the judgemental, punishing Joy Defeating inner voice--the inner voice that probably kept Jane from indulging her own very obvious interest in scoundrels in real life!

In defense of this theory, consider these points:

1. Jane herself loved family theatricals. Fanny's horror of them and of the flirting that took place is the sort of thing she made fun of in others. Jane also loved her cousin, Eliza, a married woman of the scoundrelly type, who flirted outrageously with Jane's brother Henry when Jane was young--very much like Mary Crawford. The fact is, and this bleeds through the book continuously, Austen doesn't at all like Fanny Price!

To make it more complex, Fanny's relationship with Henry Crawford is an echo of the Edmund-Mary theme, but Austen makes Henry so appealing that few readers have forgiven Austen for not letting Fanny liven up a little and marry him! No. Austen is trying to make a case for resisting temptation, but in this book she most egregiously fails.

2. Austen is famous for never showing us a scene or dialogue which she hadn't personally observed in real life, hence the off-stage proposals in her other books.

Does this not make it all the more curious that the final scene between Edmund and Mary Crawford in which he suffers his final disillusionment and realizes the depths of her moral decay comes to us with some very convincing dialogue? Is it possible that Jane lived out just such a scene herself? That she too was forced by her inner knowlege of what was right to turn away from a sexually appealing scoundrel of her own?

3. Fanny gets Edmund in the end, but it is a joyless ending for most readers because it is so clear that he is in love with Mary. Can it be that Austen here was suggesting the grim fate that awaits those who do turn away from temptations--a lifetime of listening to that dull, upstanding, morally correct but oh so joyless voice of reason?

We'll never know. Cassandra Austen burnt several years' worth of her sister's letters--letters written in the years before she prematurely donned her spinster's cap and gave up all thoughts of finding love herself. Her secrets whatever they were, were kept within the family.

But one has to wonder about what was really going on inside the curious teenaged girl who loved Samual Richardson's rape saga and wrote the sexually explicit oddity that comes to us as Lady Susan. Perhaps in Mansfield Park we get a dim echo of the trauma that turned the joyous outrageous rebel who penned Pride and Prejudice in her late teens into the staid, sad woman when she was dying wrote Persuasion--a novel about a recaptured young love.

So with that in mind, why not go and have another look at Mansfield Park!

I don't know what book the other reviewer read, but it couldn't have been "Mansfield Park." "Mansfield Park" is a political satire according to some, and I think there's reason to believe this assessment. According to Jane Austen, "Mansfield Park" is about ordination (some dispute here, but she wrote it in a letter). Ordination comes from the word "order" and given the events in Europe at the time order was a major issue.

Jane Austen's father had 'interests' in the West Indies from which he derived income, and he was very pleased the British Government (Tories) defended these colonies and kept them from joining in the American Revolotion. Jane Austen had two naval brothers who served as part of the effort to keep the English interests en tact. In "Persuasion" a discussion at dinner one evening centers around the West Indies--and the talk is not about slavery. Like it or not, Jane Austen's conscience about slavery did become manifest until she wrote "Emma" and even then she barely touched on the subject. Jane Austen's main concerns involved the lives of women and their place in society. And we have no right to judge her from our perspective 200 years later.

Jane Austen was a Tory at the time she wrote "Mansfield Park." The Tories were a conservative party that backed the English king and he had no interest in seeing English colonies in the West Indies--from which he derived income--disappear. The Tories were landed gentry (country aristocrats) and did not want their old agrarian way of life abolished. It was under threat from the Industrial Revolution, and other social change. The Tory opposition party was Whig. Whigs supported the American and French Revolutions, and wanted change (the Abolutionists were mostly Whig).

Jane Austen's "Mansfield Park" symbolizes the old agrarian landed gentry way of life. Portsmouth (where Fanny's mother lives) represents the chaos of the masses. London (home of the Crawfords) is an interesting but dangerous way of life.

Fanny is a very moral girl. My only complaint of Fanny is that I wanted her to stand up for herself--which she does. She always did, she just didn't do it the way we women who have been emancipated would. Critics from Lionel Trilling to Tony Tanner have defended Fanny's right to be Fanny--i.e. a moral and good girl of her times. We who are caught up in the modern world may not appreciate Fanny, but there she is--and who dares judge her?

Fanny holds the course (like the Tories). She is the voice of morality who objects to the London stage play the other youngsters at Mansfield Park stage in the absence of Mr. Bertram (the lord of the manor and the upholder of virtue). Fanny will not be coerced into violating her principles. She will not marry Mr. Crawford because she can see he is immoral. She chides Edmund to stay on the straight and narrow. She facilitates Edmund's remaining on the path to ordination. Say what you will, Fanny gets her man, and she gets him the way she wants him. Was Janie spoofing us all along? Was Fanny right?

As Jane Austen's most controversial novel, Mansfield Park continues to occupy an inveterate place in literature for its dark charm, its slow yet steady rhythm, its dry yet sharp and ironic humor, and of course fabulous charaterization built on extensive description all within a country challenged by progress.

Readers become acquainted with Fanny Price, a victorian era Cinderella so it appeared--plucked from her family in destitude to be allowed to blossom at her wealthy uncle's house, Mansfield Park. Of course being passive, steadfast, timid...certainlly lacking the very fierce which makes Emma and Marrianne among other Austen heroine memorable. Yet withstanding the seductive charm of fortune and of consequence, Fanny Price resists the wooing of a stranger Mr. CRawford who puzzles everyone with his light gallantry and dark desires. A soulmate since childhood, Fanny's cousin Edmund yields in to Miss Crawford, who is all but a nonessential part of Mr. Crawford's scheme of stolen pleasure. Henry Crawford, certainlly one of the darknest characters ever portrayed, more so then Willoughbe (excuse the sp.) is too caught up in the sensual delights of his incessant conquests (including Fanny's 2 pretty cousins) that even though he ackowledges the good influence Fanny's purity has on his heart, he is too deeply sunken in his web of "play" to rise and face truth of love. Yes, Henry Crawford did love Fanny with his heart, at least the pure part of it, unlike Edmund who loves Fanny only out of brotherly affection. But Fanny, whose steady character makes her an unlikely candidate to Crawford's actual reformation, refuses Crawford's sincerity and thus almost pushes him back into his bottomless hold of scheme. The storm thus takes place in the heart of London's upper society, casting its shadow on the peaceful Mansfield Park community and shattering everything Sir Thomas has persevered in building up--with fortune, and with consequence...a mention of slave trade as well.

Mary Crawford is a complex player, tainted by a society blindly wooing money and status, that even Edmund is not able to save the good side of her. Apart from Henry's scheme, Edmund is forced to refocus and, voila, there is Fanny (no matter how distasteful cousin-courtship is to many).

The movie adaptation of this tale certainlly emphasizes the fighting nature of Fanny which is rarely detected on pages. Yet what IS acknowledged and admired in the quiet little herione, is the perseverance so rare in a world on the verge of revolution.

To be avoided unless you expect to live forever. Mr. Conrad piles up references from all the books he has (supposedly) read, namedropping furiously along the way. There is however no central idea, no real understanding of the perod he is writing about, he just rants on and on. Also the prose is stuck in a quagmire of cliches, very pretentious stuff - to clever by half, some would say, but not clever at all in my mind. You won't get anywhere with this volume of 750 pages.

Other reviewers of this book have missed the point completely. A survey must do two things for the reader: (1) Be entertaining; and (2) Introduce the reader to original sources he or she may have missed along the way.

On both points Conrad hits the target with near perfection. He has written a survey that not only is impossible to put down, but also does a splendid job of steering the reader to those original works that comprise the background for the survey.

Conrad uses a unique approach in viewing Modernism through the prism of art, rather than taking the standard approach via science or history, giving his book a novelty missing in many others of its kind. It is also refreshing to note that he does not take the obligatory Post-Modern stand in relation to his material that now seems de rigeur among the squirrels of Academia.

The only reason I cannot give the book a fifth star is dur to Conrad's omission of one of the most important American cartographers of Modernism and its roots in Technology: Lewis Mumford. The inclusion of Mumford would have given Conrad's book the continuity it needs with the previous centuries rather than seeing the 20th century as a break with the past.

By the way, as with most survey books, wait for the paperback, because if my experience with this tome is any indication, you'll be buying plenty of original sources you missed before.

Mr. Conrad takes on quite a task here: commenting on every aspect of what is called modern life and how it is reflected in this century's art. He does as good a job as anyone could, I think. I'm particularly glad that his analyses are relatively uncontaminated by the silly notions of Deconstructionism. Also, as some of the professional critics have said, he leaves out most of the silly, self-important, esoteric lingo of the current academic scene.

The book has good detail, but the detail can be so much that you fall asleep reading it. There are some great examples, but for light reading I would not recommend it. Most of the articles are from actual sociology and medical type journals, so you can imagine how in depth they can be..