For good and often for bad, Joseph Conrad’s late novels saw a resurgence in his romanticism. Conrad’s novels were always romantic, but the nature of that romanticism changed over time. In his early novels, the romance lay more in the description and the plotting than in the often sordid and seedy characters who dominated the stories.
By Conrad’s middle period, the romanticism was more submerged, as he examined political systems with a cynical and pessimistic eye. Pessimism is of course itself a strain of negative romanticism, and occasionally Conrad used characters and storylines that could easily have been found in a romantic novel.
However, in his final phase, Conrad gave himself over to far more romantic tales, with characters who were far too idealised to exist in real life. While Conrad was not given to writing upbeat stories at the best of times, the later stories were almost doomed to an unhappy ending, because it was simply inconceivable that the romantic characters could do anything conceivably mundane, such as live like any normal married couple.
The Rescue is a novel of this kind. The characters are all romanticised, though thankfully the book lacks some of the worst romantic passages of late Conrad, perhaps because it was merely a work Conrad had written much earlier in his life which he now reconstituted for a late release.
This is romance by character. Indeed, we see romance in all stages of life here – in the young shipman, Carter, the middle-aged hero, Captain Lingard and the elderly adventurer, Jorgenson. The heroine is also romantic, as is her detached observer, the Spanish D’Alsacer. All of the Malays represent romantic stock figures, and are less well-defined.
The story concerns Captain Tom Lingard, a supporting character in two earlier novels, now taking centre stage. Lingard has befriended a Malay prince and princess, Hassim and Immada, and has plans to restore them to power after they are overthrown. Lingard’s confidence in his own abilities is soon put to the test when a small ship is stranded close to the area where Lingard has been seeking support from the natives.
The ship is owned by the odious businessman, Travers, who is caught with his bored and scornful wife, Edith, and their acquaintance, D’Alsacer. The presence of Europeans complicates Lingard’s plans. He feels obliged to help his own people, and to prevent them from falling into the hands of the natives, his ruthless allies. Travers and D’Alsacer fall into the hands of a faction among the natives, and Lingard finds it a difficult job to extricate them, especially since he is falling in love with Edith Travers, and neglecting his duties towards Hassim and Immada.
His dalliance causes his ally, Jorgenson to despair, and Jorgenson decides to blow up his ship, killing a number of people, including Lingard’s enemies, Jorgenson himself, and Hasssim and Immada. Wracked with guilt, Lingard allows Edith to depart with Travers, and the would-be lovers are parted.
It is a sad novel, and one that sets up a typical Conrad conundrum – a man who believes he is ready for anything, only to face a totally unprecedented and unusual situation that is out of his control. Lingard fails the test. As his name suggests, he lingers too long and fails to act.
To some extent, he is choosing between the native Hassim and Immada, who he regards as his own children, and members of his own race. In the circumstances, he does as many others have done, and chooses his own kind, precipitating the disaster. However, while his decision may be wrong, Conrad is sympathetic to his plight. Indeed, it is the European characters that bring the work to life, whilst the Malay characters are too shadowy to engage our interest. Conrad sides with the Europeans every bit as much as Lingard does.
The dilemma is presented with some weaknesses on Conrad’s part. Firstly there is an excess of dense description and psychological motivation which serves to weaken Conrad’s claim that this work is an adventure story. The book is rather static, appropriate for its subject matter perhaps, and the exciting events take place away from our full view. This may be intentional, but it sometimes renders the story slow and confusing.
Conrad is also uncertain how to present his heroine. We cannot help being drawn to Edith Travers, and in some respects her relationship towards Lingard is like that of an Ibsen heroine – romantic, passionate, fascinating the man in a harpy like manner, yet inspiring him. However, in Ibsen, they seek to inspire their lover to action, whereas Edith inspires Lingard to stasis.
However, while Edith is appealing in some ways, Conrad is ambiguous in his treatment of her. She is seen as bored and scornful, taking on roles that she should not. She wears Malay clothes, identifying her with the natives, something Conrad would not approve of. That the clothes are those that Lingard had laid aside for Immada also reinforces the sense of Edith interfering in a situation and taking their rightful place.
The Rescue is the third book in a trilogy-in-reverse. It takes place before An Outcast of the Islands, which in turn took place before Almayer’s Folly, each work acting almost as a prequel to the last. However, the 20-year gestation has perhaps changed some of Conrad’s original concerns.
The Tom Lingard of earlier books was a jovial bully, well-meaning but wrong-headed. There is something of that Lingard in this book too. He takes Carter and the Travers’ boat captive because they interfere with his plans, which he was foolish enough to believe were impregnable. He is also committed to interfering in Malayan politics for no better reason than a feeling of loyalty to a brother and sister he once befriended.
However, this is a very different Tom Lingard in other respects. He is more heroic and strong-minded, passionate and reflective. He is therefore considerably more sympathetic than the older Lingard of earlier books.
Conrad has also removed a good deal of the excessive verbiage that was in his first draft of The Rescue, making this a better book than the other two works in this loose trilogy. However, while the book is vastly improved as a result, it cannot be counted as one of Conrad’s best works. It is too wordy and abstract when it needs to be pacey and forceful.
Of course Conrad never wrote works for purely commercial effect, and the descriptive passages and psychology are the most important priorities in his writing. With all its faults, The Rescue is a worthwhile book, and there is much to enjoy in its pages.