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Karain: A Memory
We knew him in those unprotected days when we were content to hold in our hands our lives and our property. None of us, I believe, has any property now, and I hear that many, negligently, have lost their lives; but I am sure that the few who survive are not yet so dim-eyed as to miss in the befogged respectability of their newspapers the intelligence of various native risings in the Eastern Archipelago. Sunshine gleams between the lines of those short paragraphs—sunshine and the glitter of the sea...
40 pages, Leather Bound
First published May 16, 1897
5 people are currently reading
84 people want to read
About the author
Joseph Conrad
3,094 books4,852 followersJoseph Conrad was a Polish-British novelist and story writer. He is regarded as one of the greatest writers in the English language and, although he did not speak English fluently until his twenties, he became a master prose stylist who brought a non-English sensibility into English literature. He wrote novels and stories, many in nautical settings, that depict crises of human individuality in the midst of what he saw as an indifferent, inscrutable, and amoral world.
Conrad is considered a literary impressionist by some and an early modernist by others, though his works also contain elements of 19th-century realism. His narrative style and anti-heroic characters, as in Lord Jim, for example, have influenced numerous authors. Many dramatic films have been adapted from and inspired by his works. Numerous writers and critics have commented that his fictional works, written largely in the first two decades of the 20th century, seem to have anticipated later world events.
Writing near the peak of the British Empire, Conrad drew on the national experiences of his native Poland—during nearly all his life, parceled out among three occupying empires—and on his own experiences in the French and British merchant navies, to create short stories and novels that reflect aspects of a European-dominated world—including imperialism and colonialism—and that profoundly explore the human psyche.
Conrad is considered a literary impressionist by some and an early modernist by others, though his works also contain elements of 19th-century realism. His narrative style and anti-heroic characters, as in Lord Jim, for example, have influenced numerous authors. Many dramatic films have been adapted from and inspired by his works. Numerous writers and critics have commented that his fictional works, written largely in the first two decades of the 20th century, seem to have anticipated later world events.
Writing near the peak of the British Empire, Conrad drew on the national experiences of his native Poland—during nearly all his life, parceled out among three occupying empires—and on his own experiences in the French and British merchant navies, to create short stories and novels that reflect aspects of a European-dominated world—including imperialism and colonialism—and that profoundly explore the human psyche.
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
November 13, 2018
Haunted Men
Note: There might be slight spoilers in this review!
It is probably not saying too much when one claims that Joseph Conrad’s short story Karain: A Memory has some elements of a ghost story, but at the same time, we should be aware that Conrad was never favourably disposed towards the literary treatment of the supernatural. According to him, after all, it is not necessary to believe in a supernatural source of evil, since men alone are quite capable of every imaginable wickedness. Apart from that, in his preface to The Shadow-line, Conrad wrote:
This may not go down too well with those who, like me, enjoy stories of ghosts and other supernatural phenomena, but it clearly marks Conrad as an explorer of the human soul, as an ever-curious and wise wanderer who has seen, and thought about, so much of the world that its scenes and its denizens are a constant source of wonderment and cogitation to him, which could hardly be increased or refined by the whisperings of voices from beyond.
In Karain, Conrad has us enter a mirror-world of conceits, perceptions of others and oneself, as well as challenged beliefs, when he makes us the readers of the first-person narrator’s story. The first part of Karain introduces the eponymous protagonist, as seen through the eyes of our story-teller, and although our narrator regards Karain as his friend, he is still slightly amused by the pomp and ceremony that are part and parcel of the Malay’s rulership and by the subservience with which he is treated:
However, the narrator also recognizes that there is natural dignity and greatness beneath this show of Byzantine behaviour, when his language loses its sarcasm and becomes poetic:
All in all, the narrator’s view on Karain and his people is benevolent and friendly, but not without a tinge of superiority and indulgence for whatever is savage and superstitious in his friend’s nature. Yet, his attitude is not that of the typical European colonialist, who is not only out for personal gain but also masks his egoism in the guise of teaching Christian values and bringing other feats of civilization:
In the middle part of the story then, the narration is – albeit still under the direction of the first-person narrator – handed over to Karain [1], who tells the story of his life, i.e. of a terrible guilt he has burdened himself with and of the consequences he has been living with. What to Karain can only be explained in terms of a vengeful spirit seeking out the man who has deeply wronged him and betrayed their friendship, is, to the western mind, a trivial question of psychology, of a guilt-ridden man and his bad conscience. Karain repeatedly says that now his only remedy lies in turning for help to the white men, whose strength is their unbelief. Karain sees something akin to magic in that blatant irreverence characterizing the white men, and as he thinks that only a lucky charm can save him, he appeals to his friends for their help, i.e. either to give him a lucky charm or to take him with them to Europe, the land of unbelievers, where spirits and ghosts have no power. Knowing that it is impossible to take Karain with them, one of the men, young Hollis, has the idea to endow Karain with a placebo, and he makes a great show of preparing a charm – in fact, a special coin bearing Queen Victoria’s image, which is no trifle for Hollis to give away – and handing it over to Karain.
One might feel disgruntled at this and see in it yet another instance of how literature shows us white people using their superior knowledge and civilization to help one of the “others” in a way that clearly marks the scorn they feel for him despite their assistance. Yet, this is definitely not so, for the narrator makes it clear that the memorabilia carefully kept by Hollis are, in fact, lucky charms for the young man with the help of which he can conjure up the spirits of his memories, and that the coin, especially, is something he would not part with for someone not as good a friend as Karain. Interestingly, however, from all the things young Hollis could have chosen as a magic talisman for the Malay chief, he selects a coin, a piece of money. While this can partly be explained with the fact that the coin bears the image of Queen Victoria – a potentate Karain has previously expressed deep admiration for –, it also shows that the ghosts that might most often haunt the white man are called £sd. Apart from that, the portrait of the Queen might well symbolize the “power” of civilization as it was embodied by the United Kingdom.
Our narrator is certainly quite a jaded, detached customer, whose view on life is not too starry-eyed and who is, in fact, a sort of unbeliever, as can, for example, be seen in the way he refers to a display of guns, calling them (with the typically Conradian wryness of humour)
Still, when he is in an English port, he is keenly alive to the spirit that runs such as thing as the English empire, a spirit he thinks as real to him as Karain’s ghosts were to Karain, but when our narrator drily goes over the manifestations of this spirit as they present themselves to his and his friend’s view on the scene where they are having their conversation, it becomes a question which of the two hauntings is the more terrible one after all, for there is hardly any grandness in the things our narrator points out, the scene being quite different from that of the secluded bay over which Karain ruled.
[1] Karain’s words are quoted, for instance, when he talks about a Dutch trader, who profits from the privileges granted to his countrymen in the wake of an armed intervention with the natives on the part of the Dutch: “He despised our joys, our thoughts, and our sorrows. His face was red, his hair like flame, and his eyes pale, like a river mist; he moved heavily, and spoke with a deep voice; he laughed aloud like a fool, and knew no courtesy in his speech. He was a big, scornful man, who looked into women’s faces and put his hand on the shoulders of free men as though he had been a noble-born chief. We bore with him. Time passed.” – Our narrator and his friends may not be as dismissive and hostile as the Dutchman, but their attitude towards the natives’ culture is clearly marked by a certain degree of condescension.
Note: There might be slight spoilers in this review!
It is probably not saying too much when one claims that Joseph Conrad’s short story Karain: A Memory has some elements of a ghost story, but at the same time, we should be aware that Conrad was never favourably disposed towards the literary treatment of the supernatural. According to him, after all, it is not necessary to believe in a supernatural source of evil, since men alone are quite capable of every imaginable wickedness. Apart from that, in his preface to The Shadow-line, Conrad wrote:
”The world of the living contains enough marvels and mysteries as it is; marvels and mysteries acting upon our emotions and intelligence in ways so inexplicable that it would almost justify the conception of life as an enchanted state. No, I am too firm in my consciousness of the marvellous to be ever fascinated by the mere supernatural, which (take it any way you like) is but a manufactured article, the fabrication of minds insensitive to the intimate delicacies of our relation to the dead and to the living, in their countless multitudes; a desecration of our tenderest memories; an outrage on our dignity.”
This may not go down too well with those who, like me, enjoy stories of ghosts and other supernatural phenomena, but it clearly marks Conrad as an explorer of the human soul, as an ever-curious and wise wanderer who has seen, and thought about, so much of the world that its scenes and its denizens are a constant source of wonderment and cogitation to him, which could hardly be increased or refined by the whisperings of voices from beyond.
In Karain, Conrad has us enter a mirror-world of conceits, perceptions of others and oneself, as well as challenged beliefs, when he makes us the readers of the first-person narrator’s story. The first part of Karain introduces the eponymous protagonist, as seen through the eyes of our story-teller, and although our narrator regards Karain as his friend, he is still slightly amused by the pomp and ceremony that are part and parcel of the Malay’s rulership and by the subservience with which he is treated:
”He was treated with a solemn respect accorded in the irreverent West only to the monarchs of the stage, and he accepted the profound homage with a sustained dignity seen nowhere else but behind the footlights and in the condensed falseness of some grossly tragic situation. It was almost impossible to remember who he was—only a petty chief of a conveniently isolated corner of Mindanao, where we could in comparative safety break the law against the traffic in firearms and ammunition with the natives.”
However, the narrator also recognizes that there is natural dignity and greatness beneath this show of Byzantine behaviour, when his language loses its sarcasm and becomes poetic:
”He appeared utterly cut off from everything but the sunshine, and that even seemed to be made for him alone.”
All in all, the narrator’s view on Karain and his people is benevolent and friendly, but not without a tinge of superiority and indulgence for whatever is savage and superstitious in his friend’s nature. Yet, his attitude is not that of the typical European colonialist, who is not only out for personal gain but also masks his egoism in the guise of teaching Christian values and bringing other feats of civilization:
”There are those who say that a native will not speak to a white man. Error. No man will speak to his master; but to a wanderer and a friend, to him who does not come to teach or to rule, to him who asks for nothing and accepts all things, words are spoken by the camp-fires, in the shared solitude of the sea, in riverside villages, in resting-places surrounded by forests — words are spoken that take no account of race or colour. One heart speaks — another one listens; and the earth, the sea, the sky, the passing wind and the stirring leaf, hear also the futile tale of the burden of life.”
In the middle part of the story then, the narration is – albeit still under the direction of the first-person narrator – handed over to Karain [1], who tells the story of his life, i.e. of a terrible guilt he has burdened himself with and of the consequences he has been living with. What to Karain can only be explained in terms of a vengeful spirit seeking out the man who has deeply wronged him and betrayed their friendship, is, to the western mind, a trivial question of psychology, of a guilt-ridden man and his bad conscience. Karain repeatedly says that now his only remedy lies in turning for help to the white men, whose strength is their unbelief. Karain sees something akin to magic in that blatant irreverence characterizing the white men, and as he thinks that only a lucky charm can save him, he appeals to his friends for their help, i.e. either to give him a lucky charm or to take him with them to Europe, the land of unbelievers, where spirits and ghosts have no power. Knowing that it is impossible to take Karain with them, one of the men, young Hollis, has the idea to endow Karain with a placebo, and he makes a great show of preparing a charm – in fact, a special coin bearing Queen Victoria’s image, which is no trifle for Hollis to give away – and handing it over to Karain.
One might feel disgruntled at this and see in it yet another instance of how literature shows us white people using their superior knowledge and civilization to help one of the “others” in a way that clearly marks the scorn they feel for him despite their assistance. Yet, this is definitely not so, for the narrator makes it clear that the memorabilia carefully kept by Hollis are, in fact, lucky charms for the young man with the help of which he can conjure up the spirits of his memories, and that the coin, especially, is something he would not part with for someone not as good a friend as Karain. Interestingly, however, from all the things young Hollis could have chosen as a magic talisman for the Malay chief, he selects a coin, a piece of money. While this can partly be explained with the fact that the coin bears the image of Queen Victoria – a potentate Karain has previously expressed deep admiration for –, it also shows that the ghosts that might most often haunt the white man are called £sd. Apart from that, the portrait of the Queen might well symbolize the “power” of civilization as it was embodied by the United Kingdom.
Our narrator is certainly quite a jaded, detached customer, whose view on life is not too starry-eyed and who is, in fact, a sort of unbeliever, as can, for example, be seen in the way he refers to a display of guns, calling them (with the typically Conradian wryness of humour)
”the dark and polished tubes that can cure so many illusions.”
Still, when he is in an English port, he is keenly alive to the spirit that runs such as thing as the English empire, a spirit he thinks as real to him as Karain’s ghosts were to Karain, but when our narrator drily goes over the manifestations of this spirit as they present themselves to his and his friend’s view on the scene where they are having their conversation, it becomes a question which of the two hauntings is the more terrible one after all, for there is hardly any grandness in the things our narrator points out, the scene being quite different from that of the secluded bay over which Karain ruled.
[1] Karain’s words are quoted, for instance, when he talks about a Dutch trader, who profits from the privileges granted to his countrymen in the wake of an armed intervention with the natives on the part of the Dutch: “He despised our joys, our thoughts, and our sorrows. His face was red, his hair like flame, and his eyes pale, like a river mist; he moved heavily, and spoke with a deep voice; he laughed aloud like a fool, and knew no courtesy in his speech. He was a big, scornful man, who looked into women’s faces and put his hand on the shoulders of free men as though he had been a noble-born chief. We bore with him. Time passed.” – Our narrator and his friends may not be as dismissive and hostile as the Dutchman, but their attitude towards the natives’ culture is clearly marked by a certain degree of condescension.
April 23, 2025
Chi conosce la narrativa di Joseph Conrad [1857-1924] sa che buona parte delle sue composizioni sono ambientate negli scenari esotici degli arcipelaghi dei Mari del Sud ma lungi dal raccontare banali storie di avventure, lo scrittore polacco partendo da questo sfondo lontano si addentra nelle profondità dell’anima dei suoi personaggi, scava e mette a nudo paure, vigliaccherie, colpe antiche, disagi interiori e su queste basi articola poi un racconto che quasi sempre affascina il lettore che viene trascinato nelle spire di una scrittura impeccabile e seducente fino a conclusioni tanto spiazzanti quanto logicamente ineccepibili. E’ il caso di questo romanzo breve che è il racconto di un’antica ossessione che non lascia scampo al protagonista, un coraggioso guerriero di quei luoghi lontani chiamato Karain, il quale dopo aver tentato in ogni modo di affrancarsi da una vecchia colpa che lo perseguita e gli rode l’animo impedendogli di ritrovare la pace interiore a cui agogna, non vede altro modo per uscirne che chiedere aiuto a tre suoi amici bianchi, mezzi avventurieri e trafficanti d’armi ai quali confida tutta la storia, supplicandoli infine di operare con la loro autorevole magia per rendergli la serenità smarrita: i tre marinai occidentali si guarderanno l’un l’altro smarriti e increduli ma poi…
September 22, 2024
موقع خوندن این کتاب، حس میکردم سر کلاس کارشناسی نشستم و استاد رجبی داره heart of darkness یا Moby-dick رو برامون میخونه و بررسی میکنه :)))) دلم تنگ شد واقعا…
در ضمن متن ترجمه شدهی ادبی این کتاب رو خیلی دوست داشتم *.*
هدیهای بود از دوست عزیزتر از جانم، سروه ✨
در ضمن متن ترجمه شدهی ادبی این کتاب رو خیلی دوست داشتم *.*
هدیهای بود از دوست عزیزتر از جانم، سروه ✨
January 1, 2017
Short Story. Sets the scene well, but it does take a long time to set up a story that's resolution you can see coming from a mile away. Not bad but slow moving and predictable.
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June 4, 2025THIS ONE WENT CRAZY. THE LAST SCENE UGGHGHHG--- I GOT SO LOST IN KARAIN'S (the character's) BEAUTIFUL WORDS
April 7, 2016
Such skill does Conrad display! The story construction, setting the scene, presenting the protagonist, providing background necessary to the story line, and the all-important pace maintained without a disturbing interrupting slump, all so expertly designed.
The use of exceptional words, suitably and appropriately used where needed, yet not ostentatious or flaunting linguistic skill. Here is one sample:- "The bay was like a bottomless pit of intense light. The circular sheet of water reflected a luminous sky, and the shores enclosing it made an opaque ring of earth floating in an emptiness of transparent blue." Or again, "Some years afterwards I met Jackson, in the Strand.... Our meeting caused an eddy in the current of humanity."
The story itself had a solid middle section. It deals with a Malay man whose betrothed left to live with a Dutch trader, the Malay has his best friend pledge to go with him to kill them both. A few years later, this friend had imagined this woman had chosen to go with him, he became fixated on this beguiling woman. They then find the couple and the Malay is to kill the woman and his friend is to shoot the Dutchman. However because this "friend" had become so enamored with thoughts of the woman that he kills the Malay instead. The plot weaves onward, conversations on boat a sailing ship, etc.
The beginning seemed to drag, and the last portions were inferior with a very poor culmination. One reader commented that a ghost story from Conrad was surprising, and Karain is "maybe more haunting than 'Heart of Darkness' and more relevant to the sexual politics of our modern clash of cultures - prescient and magnificently disturbing."
The use of exceptional words, suitably and appropriately used where needed, yet not ostentatious or flaunting linguistic skill. Here is one sample:- "The bay was like a bottomless pit of intense light. The circular sheet of water reflected a luminous sky, and the shores enclosing it made an opaque ring of earth floating in an emptiness of transparent blue." Or again, "Some years afterwards I met Jackson, in the Strand.... Our meeting caused an eddy in the current of humanity."
The story itself had a solid middle section. It deals with a Malay man whose betrothed left to live with a Dutch trader, the Malay has his best friend pledge to go with him to kill them both. A few years later, this friend had imagined this woman had chosen to go with him, he became fixated on this beguiling woman. They then find the couple and the Malay is to kill the woman and his friend is to shoot the Dutchman. However because this "friend" had become so enamored with thoughts of the woman that he kills the Malay instead. The plot weaves onward, conversations on boat a sailing ship, etc.
The beginning seemed to drag, and the last portions were inferior with a very poor culmination. One reader commented that a ghost story from Conrad was surprising, and Karain is "maybe more haunting than 'Heart of Darkness' and more relevant to the sexual politics of our modern clash of cultures - prescient and magnificently disturbing."
August 13, 2016
A delightful short story. Conrad's ability to conjure up imagery makes me slow the sentences down, to savour them more.
And the story of Karain is more layered than I was expecting from a short story.
Can probably find a free ebook of this somewhere. Get it. Read it.
And the story of Karain is more layered than I was expecting from a short story.
Can probably find a free ebook of this somewhere. Get it. Read it.
August 20, 2013
maybe more haunting than Heart of darkness and more relevant to the sexual politics of our modern clash of cultures - prescient and magnificently disturbing
August 23, 2020
Not the best Conrad but it still has its moments, particularly at the end.
February 26, 2024
A fundamental book to the understanding of "Heart of Darkness."
January 26, 2025
Even if you like Conrad's style, this story was lacking in many ways.
April 2, 2025
Love the story within a story vibe. Fascinating depiction of the Malayans and their culture.
A little confusing and the end was at a bit of a whim.
A little confusing and the end was at a bit of a whim.
August 4, 2025
I was surprised to discover that Joseph Conrad attempted a ghost story! He doesn't seem comfortable in this genre, but I found it amusing, wondering if he read Melville's Mardi before trying this because of the vengeance odyssey in search of a woman.
September 23, 2024
8.5/10
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews