Documenti di Didattica
Documenti di Professioni
Documenti di Cultura
C O N R A D
Studies 1
General Editors:
Allan H. Simmons and J. H. Stape
Advisory Editors:
Owen Knowles and Gene M. Moore
Joseph Conrad
Memories and Impressions
An Annotated Bibliography
by
Martin Ray
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To
SUSANNAH
Acknowledgements
Foreword viii
Cue-titles x
Index 174
Foreword
THIS BIBLIOGRAPHY aims to identify and annotate publications that
record “memories and impressions” of Joseph Conrad by those who
knew him or met him. This volume has its origin in my monograph
Joseph Conrad and His Contemporaries (1988), published by The Joseph
Conrad Society (UK). The present much revised version has been con-
siderably expanded, especially by the addition of extensive annotation
for virtually all entries, which has been made possible by the publica-
tion of The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad in recent years. It has also
been updated by the inclusion of relevant letters and diaries that
continue to come to light occasionally.
In the selection of items for inclusion, preference has been given to
recollections with literary or biographical interest. This criterion has
determined both the kind of items selected and the degree of citation
they receive. Recollections of Conrad offering merely a pen portrait of
him are omitted, and such descriptions are not mentioned in items that
are included. Priority throughout has been given to accounts of Conrad
that record what he said about himself and his writing. Conrad’s friends
and acquaintances are often recalling conversations that were quite
casual and that occurred many years before, and they are not on oath.
Some of the individual comments must thus be taken cum grano salis. A
small handful of items seem to be entirely bogus, invented either by
journalists in need of quick copy or by charlatans seeking a vicarious
association with literary fame. Such spurious accounts are included only
so that they can be clearly identified as such in the annotations.
Letters to Conrad from his friends are excluded, the most pertinent
of which are found in A Portrait in Letters: Correspondence to and about
Joseph Conrad, edited by J. H. Stape and Owen Knowles (1996). Letters
about him to a third party are annotated where their contents fall within
the scope of this bibliography. Items in Polish are omitted, since most
of these are available in Zdzisław Najder’s compilation Conrad Under
Familial Eyes, translated by Halina Carroll-Najder (1983). Items in French
are included.
Theodore G. Ehrsam’s A Bibliography of Joseph Conrad (1969) lists
many of the earlier items; a number of new items that it overlooked are
recorded here. For the purposes of this work, Ehrsam’s bibliography
was found to be more comprehensive than the well-known bibliog-
raphies of Lohf and Sheehy (1957) or Teets and Gerber (1971). I have
not listed the other printings that some items have enjoyed, since they
ix
are readily found in Ehrsam. Reprints not listed in Ehrsam are recorded,
and errors have been silently emended. Some articles on Conrad, such
as Hugh Clifford’s North American Review article of 1904, are known to
be based on an interview with Conrad, but are not presented in the
form of a personal account and have therefore been excluded.
Books of criticism devoted entirely to the study of Joseph Conrad
have been omitted, as have all publications listed in Ehrsam by Richard
Curle, Ford Madox Ford, G. Jean-Aubry, and Conrad’s wife and chil-
dren. Such works are already familiar to most students of Conrad’s life,
and their inclusion would have needlessly increased the length of the
bibliography. Preference has been given instead to relatively unfamiliar
or inaccessible items, especially those in newspapers and periodicals
whose only location may be, for example, The British Library or The
Bodleian Library. Articles in modern journals may not be inaccessible,
but they do not usually have a subject index, and are therefore included
to facilitate ease of reference.
These criteria should not be regarded as mosaic decrees, and I have
happily sacrificed them occasionally in the hope of making this work
useful and interesting. For example, George T. Keating’s A Conrad
Memorial Library (1929) is devoted entirely to the work of Conrad and
therefore, strictly, ought to have been excluded; however, it is difficult
to obtain in the United Kingdom (only one non-lending library in Scot-
land holds it, for instance), and not indexed, and I thus decided to
annotate it.
Articles by the same author may repeat some details, and such
information is described only once, although substantial overlaps are
indicated. Items of minor interest are included only to identify them as
relatively unimportant and thus to save other scholars’ time. The
numerous newspaper reports of Conrad’s visit to the United States in
1923 are inevitably repetitious, and therefore only the newspaper inter-
view that gives the fullest account of a particular statement by Conrad
is rewarded with citation of that comment. Entries for these reports of
the American visit are best regarded as composite, forming an aggre-
gate account of Conrad’s interviews during his trip.
Page numbers following a book title indicate the location of infor-
mation relevant to the aims of this bibliography; they do not imply that
there are not other pages in that book that refer to Conrad. Items are
listed in the alphabetical order of their authors’ surnames.
x
Cue-Titles
JCA A Joseph Conrad Archive: The Letters and Papers of Hans van Marle,
ed. Gene M. Moore, The Conradian, 30.2 (2005)
Ray, ed. Martin Ray, ed., Joseph Conrad: Interviews and Recollections.
London: Macmillan, 1990
Abbott, Lawrence F.1
“Joseph Conrad.” Outlook (New York), 134 (23 May 1923): 14–15.
Abbott was present at JC’s reading of Victory [10 May 1923, New York],
which lasted about an hour. “The complete detachment with which he
described his work” (5) was refreshing. JC speaks English with such a
European accent that it is sometimes difficult to understand him.
Alcorta, Gloria
Perse1 told Alcorta that, for JC, “l’amitié était l’œuvre du destin. Il
n’aimait pas mes écrits mais j’aurais pu commettre le plus crapuleux des
méfaits, ses sentiments pour moi n’auraient pas changé” (13–14).
Allen, Vio
Anonymous
“Conrad for ‘movies’, but can’t sell one.” New York Times, 8 May
1923: 16.
JC has a slight accent, and is rather reserved and shy. He admired Crane’s
amazing feat of writing The Red Badge of Courage without having seen the
war. Once, when Crane asked JC about Balzac, he wired his wife to say
he would not be home and they spent the whole night talking.
JC described one of his trips round Cape Horn and suggested that
seamen were more like factory hands now.
JC said, “I don’t remember everything about my books. I know
much less about them than most people. You are asking me things about
which I know nothing.” He denied discovering any new form, and, as for
style, it was “something about which I never bother; it is enough to get
1 On 16 May 1923, JC and his party arrived in Boston, staying for five days at
the Copley Plaza Hotel. Then the largest passenger ship in the world, the SS
Leviathan (originally the Vaterland) was launched in 1913 and weighed 54,282
gross tonnes.
7
the story forward without bothering about these side subjects.” Asked
about his ironical treatment of life, JC laughingly replied, “What is an
ironical?”
In the typescript of Nostromo, he had found an ambiguous paragraph
at the start of a chapter. He could not remember what he had tried to say
in it, so he deleted it. He refused to say where his work on The Rescue had
resumed.
He likes movies. Novelists had long tried to put moving pictures of
life into words, he said, and it was an essential of novels that they moved.
He had once spent a month, bored to extinction, trying to write a film
scenario, but it had been rejected. [JC interviewed by a score of reporters
at F. N. Doubleday’s Long Island home, 7 May 1923.]
“Conrad Pays Tribute to Mark Twain.” Mentor, 12.4 (May 1924): 45.
[JC interviewed during his visit to America, May 1923] JC said that Mark
Twain must have been a good pilot to write of steamboat life as he did.
He first read Twain in London in the late 80s. “Innocents Abroad was all
the rage.1 But his descriptions of life in America – some of the short
stories as well as the longer books – those are what count. They have life
– American life. They are authentic.” Twain’s The Mississippi Pilot 2 came
closest to JC’s own life (this was the original title of Life on the Mississippi,
JC explained). JC says he often thought of Twain and this book in the
Congo.
“Conrad, Sea Writer, Here for First Time.” New York Herald, 2
May 1923: 24. [Ray, ed., 175–77]
JC had a leisurely enunciation of English. He admitted he was a
Victorian, and that most of his reading was in nineteenth-century
authors. He had not read John Burroughs,1 but had read Poe in French.
He was fond of Emerson2 and Whitman,3 and had read Fenimore
Cooper.4 In reply to a question about his possibly dual personality, he
said that he suspected he had three – Pole, sailor, landsman. He had tried
to return to the sea, but he had had to go back to writing. It was not until
after The Nigger that he realized his vocation was to be writing.
“Conrad, Sea Writer, Here on First Visit.” New York Times, 2 May
1923: 21.
JC arrived in New York yesterday aboard the Tuscania. He was more
interested in a little three-masted schooner than in Manhattan’s skyline.
He said that he had not read much fiction, “although, of course, I know
the outstanding men.” Describing himself as a sailor, first and last, he
explained that his life was not a literary one. In reply to a question, he
said that of his own books the one he prefers is “It Depends on the
Day” [!] His books were like children to him: “You like one better than
the others some days, but love them all.”
JC showed most interest in the port, and wished to throw a pound of tea
from the wharf. He spent an hour with the crew of a fishing schooner,
and disputed their use of the term “trawls.” In Cambridge, he wished to
see the houses of Lowell2 and Longfellow,3 who both appealed to him
favourably. He laughed outright at the Germanic Museum,4 being amused
that the Kaiser should give anything to Harvard. [Report of JC’s visit to
Boston, 20 May 1923.]
[Account of JC’s visit to Yale Univerity, May 1923] JC was much dis-
turbed by the variety of questions tossed to him by the reporters [some
of whom are identified], but he rose magnificently to the occasion. He
dismissed angrily a question about technique, asserting that “I write to
please myself” and “I hope that there are others like myself to read and
to be pleased” (587). He said that he dictated his novels now, because “if
1 JC told John Quinn in July 1914 that “In October I may be in New York.
[…] The visit as a whole frightens me a little; but my literary agent Mr Pinker
is coming over with me and that is comforting in a way” (CL5 403).
2 James Russell Lowell (1819–91), American poet and man of letters. Lowell
lived his entire life in Elmwood, a mansion built in 1767 in Cambridge,
Massachusetts, that is now home to the president of Harvard University.
3 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–82), American poet. Longfellow
House, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, was built in 1759 and was at one time
the home of George Washington. Longfellow moved there in 1837, and his
family continued to occupy it until 1950.
4 Now the Busch-Reisinger Museum (founded 1901) of Harvard University. In
1902, Kaiser Wilhelm II donated a large collection of plaster casts of art
objects.
10
“Joseph Conrad Here for Visit.” Sun (New York), 1 May 1923: 9.
JC, suffering from gout, lumbago and fatigue, will rest for a week at the
home of F. N. Doubleday at Oyster Bay. [JC’s visit to America.]
JC said the Tuscania was “not a ship, it’s an art gallery.” He praised Walter
Hines Page, Ambassador to Britain during the war.1 [Account of JC’s
arrival in New York.]
Arnold, Fred
[Letter to the Editor] JC’s favourite inn was the Fleur-de-lys in Canterbury.1
In late years, both before and after his trip to America in 1923, JC would
arrive about nine o’clock. He had a seat reserved for him near the
window, and would sit and chat for an hour in his forceful and staccato
fashion. He drank gin and voiced robust opinions.
Atherton, Gertrude
Austin, Mary
Mary Austin4 visited JC twice [ca. mid-1909 and 1922]. On her first visit,
H. G. Wells introduced her to JC, who was not satisfied with his
publishers’ returns: “I stand on the shore and make my cry into the dark,
and only now and then a cry comes back to me” (313). On her second
visit, JC kept telling Austin, who knew George Bernard Shaw, that “the
Fabians were no longer the intellectual leaders, and that I was wasting
my time on them” (342). JC felt that he might not have long to live, and
had not provided sufficiently for his wife. He was immensely pleased to
have sold The Rover to the Pictorial Review for a large sum.1
Barker, Dudley
G. K. Chesterton: A Biography. London: Constable, 1973.
Chesterton’s wife, Frances, records in her diary a visit to the Colvins,
where there were “too many clever people,” such as JC, Laurence
Binyon, Maurice Hewlett, and Henry James (149). [No date given.]
Beer, Thomas
“The Princess Far Away.” Saturday Review of Literature, 1 (25 April
1925): 701–02.
[Beer1 recalls JC’s remark about Henry James’s view of Stephen Crane:]
“‘Bah’, said Conrad across a shoulder to Alfred Knopf2 and me, ‘James
did not know what Stevie was talking about! It was beyond his limitation.’”
Bennett, Arnold
Arnold Bennett: The “Evening Standard” Years: “Books and Persons”
1926–1931, ed. Andrew Mylett. London: Chatto & Windus, 1974,
96–98. [Ray, ed., 112–15]
[Reprints Bennett’s “Some Personal Memories of Conrad: ‘Cad’ as a
New Word: His ‘Twilight,’” Evening Standard, 3 November 1927: 7.]
Bennett3 recalls that he first met JC about 28 years ago, at H. G. Wells’s
house. Even at the end of his life, JC could not speak ten words without
betraying his foreign origin. He read English literature eagerly, but did
not understand it; for instance, he called Milton “woolly” (97).
Early in their friendship, Bennett used the word “cad,” and was
astonished when JC asked what it meant: “‘I have never heard the word,’
he said” (97). Once, Bennett met a very melancholy JC at J. B. Pinker’s
office. He needed, but did not want, a change of activity, and he merely
said, “Le pli est pris” (97; equivalent to “The die is cast”). They last met at
the home of Mme Alvar,1 when Bennett had not seen him for some
years. At first, JC did not recognise him, but shortly he came over and
said, “My dearrr Bennett, […] you have been my faithful friend for 25
years, and I do not recognise you! Forgive me” (98).
there were plenty of stylists in French but none in English (2: 1; 16 June
1911). Pinker told Bennett that they had just seen JC, returned from
Poland. “C. had no opinion of Russian army, and had come to England
to influence public opinion to get good terms for Austria!” (2: 108; 4
November 1914).1 James Bone2 heard him praise Bennett’s Riceyman Steps
(1923): “It has always been Bennett militant; but this is Bennett
victorious,” JC said (3: 23; 9 January 1924).
one name was very much like another to me. But at that period of his exist-
ence T. F[isher] U[nwin] had published some paper-bound books by various
authors and I had bought one or two of them […]. My ignorance was so
great and my judgment so poor that I imagined that Almayer’s Folly would
be just suitable for that series. As a matter of fact it was much too long, as
you know, but this was my motive in the choice of publisher” (CL6 212).
Another version of Conrad’s seeing volumes of the Pseudonym Library is in
the Garland entry below.
Vevey is a small city in Switzerland, on the north shore of Lake Geneva;
JC had stayed at Champel-les-Bains, on the outskirts of Geneva, in May and
June 1894.
1 At 2 p.m. on 2 November 1914, off Gravesend, JC wrote to Marian Biliński,
a senior civil servant whom JC had recently met in Zakopane and with whom
he had had lively discussions about the future of Poland; his brother Leon
was the Chancellor of the Austro-Hungarian Exchequer. JC assured him that
“In a few hours we shall land, and we shall immediately take a train for
London. Tomorrow I shall straight away endeavour to meet some influential
people in the world of journalism” (CL5 423).
2 James Bone (1872–1962) was the London editor of The Manchester Guardian.
He was the brother of Muirhead, the artist, and David, sailor and author of
The Brassbounder.
3 J(ohn) C(ollings) Squire (1884–1958; knighted 1933), journal editor and critic.
4 Richard Curle (1883–1969), journalist, critic, and author. After writing an
appreciation of JC’s works, Curle met him in November 1912 and, although
Curle was many years JC’s junior, the two men became close friends. His
18
of him recently, although they met about a year ago. Bennett did not
think then that JC would live very long (3: 224; 5 August 1924).
Bester, Alfred
Blanche, Jacques-Émile2
Bojarski, Edmund A.
Joseph Conrad: A Study (London: Kegan Paul, 1914) was the first book-length
criticism of JC’s fiction, and written with his approval. The Arrow of Gold
(1919) was dedicated to him.
1 Rex Todhunter Stout (1886–1975), American writer of detective fiction best
known for his Nero Wolfe novels.
2 Jacques-Émile Blanche (1861–1942), French portrait painter.
3 It is not known when JC and Kipling (1865–1936) first became acquainted,
and any meetings were certainly never frequent. Although Kipling lived quite
close by in Sussex, he had few dealings with his many neighbouring writers;
19
Bone, David
incidentally, JC knew that the distance between Capel House and Kipling’s
home at Burwash was 28 miles (see CL5 383), which might indicate some
familiarity. In 1898, JC wrote an article on Kipling that was never published
(CL2 32). There appears to be no surviving correspondence between the two
men aside from an “enthusiastic note” (CL3 365) about The Mirror of the Sea
(1906) printed in A Portrait in Letters: Correspondence to and about Joseph Conrad,
ed. J. H. Stape and Owen Knowles (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1996), 55-56.
1 David William Bone (1874–1959; knighted 1946), elder brother of Muirhead,
the painter, first went to sea in 1891, and rose to become Commodore of the
Anchor Line, which owned the Tuscania. In 1916, he was commander of the
Cameronia when it was sunk in the Mediterranean, with the loss of 130 troops.
He wrote many books and articles about life at sea, and JC wrote to him after
the publication of his first novel, the autobiographical The Brassbounder (1910).
The two men met in Liverpool in 1919.
2 In 1919, the Conrad family travelled to Liverpool, where Jessie was to
undergo an operation; they stayed from 30 November to 24 December. The
20
(154) with whom he had sailed. They met again in Glasgow on 20 April
1923, the day before sailing in the Tuscania for New York. Bone, the ship’s
captain, thought JC would be interested in recent developments in
shipping; although he quickly understood the new mechanical devices, he
was not at all impressed by their efficiency: “strangely, for one so un-
derstanding and cultured in himself, it was the ‘gentility’ and apparent
confidence of the new ship manners that seemed to disquiet him the
most” (157).
Bone’s brother, Muirhead,1 made a drypoint etching of JC during the
voyage; this was the first picture made of him at sea, although, he
admitted with a disapproving grimace, there had been many photo-
graphs. Bone remarked to JC how extraordinary it was that a Polish
aristocrat should sail in a merchant ship and become a British subject. JC
replied, “Bone! I am more British than you are. You are only British
because you could not help it” (160). [Incorporates most of Bone’s
“Introduction” to Joseph Conrad: Four Tales (London: Oxford University
Press, 1950), vii–xv.]
Bone, Muirhead1
JC admired Anatole France above all French writers,2 and had less
interest in Russian writers. He had once ordered men working on deck
to put a sail away, for he anticipated a change in the weather, and the
Captain, overhearing him, growled to the mate, “That second officer
knows the weather.”3 He knew then that he would win promotion. JC
was called “Ulysses” in Marseilles: “They joked at me then, but I have
made my voyage.”4 In JC’s estimation, Edward Garnett could do no
wrong. [Account of conversation during JC’s voyage to America, May
1923.]
Brock, H. I.
JC sat for a portrait by Oscar Edward Cesare,1 who said that “I never felt
so much at home with a victim,” except, perhaps, when he drew Lenin.
Brock met JC [in June 1911] at Capel House: “he was big enough to
tell the truth to a stranger […] the attribution of greatness to him was
easy” (18). Brock met JC again during the latter’s visit to America, May
1923.
1 H(enry) I(rving) Brock (1876–1961) was assistant editor of The New York
Times Book Review. (When Brock sailed from Liverpool to Boston in the
Winifredian on 17 June 1911, he was described as being aged 34 years and
employed as a journalist; Boston Passenger Lists, 1820–1943).
Oscar Edward Cesare (1885–1948) was an American cartoonist, artist, and
journalist. He painted JC in America in 1923, and had drawn Lenin in Russia
in 1922.
2 Neel’s translation, Sous les yeux d’occident, appeared in 1920. Writing to Gide in
November [?] 1920, JC commented that “Je suis très, mais très content de la
traduction de Western Eyes” (CL7 212; see also 220, 321).
3 Paul Claudel (1868–1955), French poet, dramatist, and diplomat.
23
Cadby, Carine1
Carroll, Eleanor
“Conrad’s books hold his secrets.” New York Evening Post, 8 May
1923: 16.
JC enjoys dictating his novels, for he is forced to speak and cannot
“dream ahead by the hour about my tale, or write one phrase and revise
it and re-revise it as I would do if I were alone.” On seamen: “Loneliness
moulds them. They are without love and without children.” [Interviewed
at the home of F. N. Doubleday, 7 May 1923, at Oyster Bay, Long Island]
Charpier, Jacques
Chesson, W. H.2
Chesson, a reader at T. Fisher Unwin, notes that it was he, not Edward
Garnett, who made the first favourable report on Almayer’s Folly. He
recorded the receipt of the novel on 5 July 1894, and, “when the author
gently pressed for a decision,” he passed it on to Garnett, who wrote
“Hold on to this” after reading it. [Letter to the Editor]
Clemens, Cyril
JC’s account of his first meeting with Clifford, in the “Author’s Note” to
A Personal Record,2 is amusing, apocryphal, and erroneous. They met in
1899 (not 1898, as JC says), and their conversation about the alternative
use of French or English as JC’s medium of expression is said to have
taken place on 22 May 1903, the month preceding Clifford’s article on JC
in The North American Review [which appeared, in fact, in June 1904]. On
5 May 1903, Clifford brought JC to lunch with an American business-
man to arrange serialization of Nostromo. A deal was arranged but it never
appeared in the (unnamed) magazine.3
Clifford maintains the notion that JC exercised a choice between
English and French. Although JC later denied strenuously that he had ever
said this to Clifford, the latter notes that JC was “cursed by an unreliable
memory” (294). JC spoke French with a purity of intonation, fluency and
correctness, and English with a strong French, not Polish, accent.
At their first meeting in 1899, JC asked Clifford “if I could throw any
light upon the authorship of certain reviews of his earlier books, which
had reached him through his publishers, and which had appeared in a
journal called the Singapore Free Press. I tried to recall the actual character
of the various critical impertinences which I had perpetrated in those
articles, but my mind was almost a blank on the subject. Accordingly I
had nothing to say but that I was afraid that I had written them; and I
well remember the relief I felt when I found how unreservedly Conrad
accepted the fact that his knowledge of Malaya was not very extensive.”
“I induced him on a few occasions to come to London and per-
suaded him to let me introduce him to Gosse, Thomas Hardy, and many
other of the literary lights of the beginning of this century. Conrad did
not greatly shine in this company. He was naturally extraordinarily
reserved, very shy; and moreover he was embarrassed by a simplicity and
lack of self-confidence which were quite astonishing in one who was
already winning such very high praise from the best critics of the day.”
Clifford repeats his account of JC arranging with George Harvey to
publish Nostromo in Harper’s Weekly: “with this contract in his pocket I
put [JC] into a hansom cab to see him to his train. All the way to the
station he made not a single reference to the contract he had secured,
but from time to time ejaculated in his markedly foreign accent, ‘Horréeble
Personalitee! Horréeble Personalitee!’ patently referring to the American
gentleman who had not attracted his favourable attention.”
[This talk mentions all the principal points that Clifford discusses in
his other work on JC.]
Clodd, Edward
Conrad, Borys
JC gave his son a copy of Frederick Benton Williams’s On Many Seas: The
Life and Exploits of a Yankee Sailor (1897),5 during the first year of Borys’s
training on the Worcester.6 JC said of it, “You will like this – it is written
by a Seaman” (26). JC cherished his son’s First Class Extra certificate,
awarded at the end of his training.7
Conrad, Jessie
Jessie Conrad first met Gibbon twenty years ago, at Someries, shortly
after JC met him. JC told her, “I am sure you will like him, Jess, but be
careful. He is well known for his repartee, he will give you as good as
you send every time” (323). On the same occasion, she also met Edward
Thomas, and he and Gibbon were usually together when she met them
afterwards. On Thomas’s second visit to the Someries, he was awaiting
the birth of his third child [August 1910]. She saw Thomas only a few
days before his death [April 1917]. He was dressed in khaki, but, by
mutual consent, no one mentioned the war or the future. Shortly after-
wards, JC met Thomas for the last time fortuitously in London. His train
was pulling out of the station when Thomas jumped in and said, “We
meet, then, my dear Conrad, once more” (324). JC told Jessie of his strong
impression that this had been their last meeting.
Conrad, John
[Two letters from John Conrad, the first dated 20 July 1976] JC enjoyed
W. W. Jacobs’s Many Cargoes.1 He never discussed his work with his
sons, preferring to keep his family and literary lives separate. He would
occasionally show his wife a manuscript, however. John was aboard a
Norwegian sailing ship with JC [September 1920], riding out a storm off
Deal.2 The second, undated, letter recalls how JC told John’s tutor that
the primary purpose of education was to teach “the young scamp” to
think for himself.
cherished that piece of parchment to the end of his life” (My Father: Joseph
Conrad [London: Calder & Boyars, 1970], 81).
1 W(illiam) W(ymark) Jacobs (1863–1943), author of popular maritime tales,
including Many Cargoes (1896). See John Conrad, Times Remembered, 149, 167.
2 See also John Conrad, Times Remembered, 140–42, and Najder, 456.
31
JC, writes Cooper, “assured me that it had never been his object to write
tales of the sea, although he found himself constantly referred to as a sea
novelist” (129). [This comment is repeated, with slight changes, in
Cooper’s “Some Aspects of Joseph Conrad,” Mariner’s Mirror, 26 (1940):
61–78.]
Corkill, Rachael A.
Davidson, Jo
1 The General Plan was Candler’s collection of short stories, mainly with Indian
themes, published by Blackwood in 1911.
2 The move to Oswalds in Bishopsbourne, Kent, began in early October 1919.
3 This meeting occurred in 1914. Jo Davidson (1883–1952), New York-born
32
Davies, W. H.
Davies1 first met JC at the Mont Blanc Restaurant,2 and later visited him
one Whitsuntide. A young Pole [Józef Retinger?], who had come over to
discuss political matters relating to England’s attitude to Poland, was also
sculptor, studied at Yale and in Paris. He was well-known for his portrait
busts, including those of Einstein, Shaw, Wells, and Charlie Chaplin. JC told
Pinker that he “looks like a southern Frenchman. As to his talent there’s no
doubt about that” (CL5 565). He exhibited his bust of JC in 1916.
1 W(illiam) H(enry) Davies (1871–1940), working-class poet who lived as a
tramp for some years. The Autobiography of a Super Tramp was published in
1908. On 18 May 1915, JC told Galsworthy that “I am so sorry we can’t
come on Saturday. Some time ago, I invited, foolishly, a verse-writing man
and I can’t put him off because he’s Davi[e]s the tramp-poet (!) and would
think himself bitterly outraged if I were to do that” (CL5 477; Saturday was
22 May 1915).
2 In Gerrard St, Soho. Edward Garnett organized informal lunches there on
Tuesdays.
33
staying. Conrad and the other guest spoke in Polish. JC was distressed by
Davies’s understanding that he had never actually commanded a ship. JC
had recently signed a petition to obtain a Civil List pension for a certain
writer whose work he did not like. He had wanted to be honest but had
been “troubled by an overkind heart” (55).
Davies and JC discussed the work of John Masefield, not as literary
men but as sailors. JC seemed to suggest that the poems were not
altogether true to life. Davies argued that a man like Dauber [in Dauber:
A Poem (1913)], because of his unusual ability in drawing and painting,
ought to have been one of the most respected men in the ship.1 JC
agreed, “and said he had known cases of the same kind, where the life of
a quiet dreamer like that would have been safer than any other life on the
ship” (57). While discussing other authors, JC exclaimed that “Hudson is
a giant!” (60).2
Davray, Henry-D.3
JC spoke English with a strong accent, and French with perfect ease and
no accent. He seemed to have read everything in French literature; he
could recite whole pages of Flaubert, knew Balzac well, and could quote
poetry, but he judged realism to be insufficient in literature. He showed
little inclination to discuss his travels, and direct, personal questions
irritated him.
Shortly after the war, JC said to Davray that “le romanesque est
mort avec les chevaliers errants. Il n’y a plus de panache. II faut chercher
ailleurs l’aventure, mais partout où l’homme la trouve, il la tue. Il en est
de même sur la mer, ajoutait-il; il est plus utile à un commandant de
transatlantique de bien danser, de présider une table avec distinction et
de causer agréablement, que de savoir d’où souffle le vent” (47).
JC often told Davray how much he owed to French culture, espe-
cially his “souci du style et de l’expression; sa recherche du mot juste, de
1 The main character is treated with contempt by his fellow sailors but falls to
his death after an act of heroism.
2 W. H. Hudson.
3 Henry-D(urand) Davray (1873–1944), French translator and critic.
34
l’équilibre de la phrase; son emploi des mots pour leur sonorité ou leur
musique, leur force ou leur charme, leur puissance de signification ou de
séduction” (55). When they first met, Davray expressed his regret that JC
had not written in French, and JC “s’en excusa sous des prétextes un peu
confus, et je vis bien que ma réflexion l’avait agacé” (55).
Dawson, Ernest1
W. E. Henley,2 who had never met JC, arranged for H. G. Wells to invite
Dawson to Sandgate and have Conrad “on tap” [early 1901?].
There were certain words that JC, “so to speak, declined to learn”
(206), such as “vowel,” which he pronounced (and, Dawson believed,
wrote) as “wowvel,” and “used,” which became “usit.” He would often
speak in French. “He spoke English with an un-English grace” (207). JC
had read much English history, memoirs, and fiction, but not much
poetry. He had not read Browning, he told Dawson, and “I don’t know
my Stevenson at all well” (207). He praised the work of Wells and James,
took delight in Dickens and had a whole-hearted admiration for Marryat3
and, especially, Fenimore Cooper. He had the highest reverence for
Flaubert, and once declaimed a passage from Saint-Julien l’Hospitalier.4 JC
admired Maupassant for his technique, and he ranked Stendhal very
highly. The only book he ever lent Dawson was Le Rouge et le Noir. He
never spoke of music or painting.
JC said he began writing The Nigger, his favourite work, on honey-
moon,5 and that Almayer’s Folly was written in Malaya, Rouen, London,
the Congo, Geneva, etc.
Dent’s son, Hugh, comments in a footnote that JC, on his few visits to
London, always visited Dent, and they would talk excitedly about
literature or the war.
De Ternant, Andrew
Doubleday, Florence1
1 Florence Doubleday (née Van Wyck, 1866-1946) was the second wife of
F(rank) N(elson) Doubleday (1862–1934), American publisher, whom she
married in 1918. (His first wife died on their trip to China in February earlier
in the same year.) She was active in various social causes.
2 In The Mirror of the Sea, JC explains how he and three other adventurers
smuggled guns in the Tremolino for the supporters of Don Carlos, Pretender
to the Spanish throne, from Marseilles to Spain. The ship had to be run on to
the rocks and wrecked to escape the coastguard. There is no evidence to
support this claim.
3 Sydney S. Pawling was a partner of William Heinemann. Doubleday was the
partner of Samuel S. McClure. The book rights to The Rescue belonged to
Heinemann. In February 1898, Pawling managed to sell serial rights to
McClure for £250, £100 of which were to be payable in advance in monthly
instalments (beginning March), with the completed book being delivered in
July. At that point, McClure apparently postponed the deadline for delivery.
38
She attended and describes JC’s reading from Victory and his address
to the staff of Doubleday, Page. He presented her with his marked copy
and notes for the reading. [Account of JC’s remarks during his visit to
America, May 1923. At an earlier meeting, in February 1919, he told her
husband that “The Rescue is finished at last” (74).]
Doubleday, Frank N.
Douglas, Norman
Frank Harris1 one day suggested driving down to visit “his friend”
JC at Orlestone [1914 or 1915]. Douglas was surprised that Harris, “with
his reputation of a perfect immoralist, should be on terms of intimacy
with Conrad who was the greatest stickler for uprightness I have ever
known” (416). Harris in fact was simply using Douglas to meet JC again,
with a view to future “copy.” Harris and JC had met only once before, in
the company of Austin Harrison.2 On this second occasion, JC scraped
up a polite greeting and then, after three minutes, went upstairs to sulk,
pleading gout, and saying to Douglas, “I should like to know why you
bring this brigand into my house. Am I never to see the last of him?”
(417) JC stayed upstairs until Harris had left.3
had moved to Sidmouth in 1906 and became fascinated with the life of the
Devon fishermen, writing several books about them; Frederic Chapman was
a reader for John Lane; Thomas Seccombe (1866–1923) had been assistant
editor of the DNB from 1891 to 1901, and became a Professor of English.
1 Frank Harris (1856–1931), author, and the editor of The Evening News (1882–
86), The Fortnightly Review (1886–94), and The Saturday Review (1894–98). A man
of extrovert arrogance who made many enemies, he acquired a scandalous
reputation as a rogue and a womanizer. His undoubted flair as an editor was
obscured by his boastful self-aggrandisement.
2 Austin Harrison (1873–1928), son of Frederic Harrison, succeeded Ford
Madox Ford as The English Review’s editor. This first meeting, which took
place in October 1910 at Capel House, is described in Ray, ed., 108. JC
described their visit in a letter to Galsworthy of 27 October 1910: “They
patronised me immensely. It was funny but not very amusing” (CL4 381).
3 Jessie Conrad said of this visit that “it was one occasion on which Joseph
Conrad went completely off the deep end, as the boys would say, without
any warning, and sparks flew for some moments. These three men arrived
early one Sunday afternoon, and coffee was brought at once. I stayed in the
room some half-hour or so and Frank Harris, to everyone’s surprise, rose
and without a word to either of us, coolly rang the bell for more coffee. The
impertinence nearly took my breath away, and the air was tense for a few
moments. Then some remark made by that extraordinary man, who must
have forgotten he was in an English drawing-room, brought Norman
Douglas to his feet with a bound. But consummate gentleman as he was
always, in his dealings with a woman, he merely offered me his arm and led
me to the door” (Joseph Conrad and His Circle [London: Jarrolds, 1935], 97).
40
Douglas, Robin
Robin,1 son of Norman Douglas, lived with the Conrads for several years
[ca. 1913–16]. There were very few visitors to Capel House, although
Douglas describes meeting Lord Northcliffe2 and Jane Taylor3 [née
Anderson] there. JC loved music, such as his wife’s piano-playing or Jane
Taylor’s negro spirituals. Douglas recalls JC telling him of his experience
as a smuggler in Spain.
The author4 prints a letter to her from Norman Douglas, who explains
that he must go to see JC who is ill. JC “has learned his dictionary and
1 Robert (“Robin”) Sholto Douglas was one of Norman Douglas’s two sons.
JC described him in 1913 as John Conrad’s “bosom friend,” a “big Scot 10
years of age and a great favourite with us all” (CL5 287). JC contributed
towards his school fees. Like Borys Conrad, he was educated in the training-
ship, HMS Worcester .
2 The Press magnate, Alfred Charles William Harmsworth (1865–1922; Baron
Northcliffe 1905; Viscount 1917). Among other newspapers, he bought The
Daily Mail in 1896 and founded The Daily Mirror in 1903. He and his brother,
Lord Rothermere, acquired a controlling interest in The Times in 1908. JC
described one of his visits to Capel House in a letter of July 1916 to Pinker
(CL5 614–15; see also 637–38). He was later a visitor to Oswalds.
3 Jane Foster Anderson was a journalist from Arizona (ca. 1888 or 1893–
1940s?). In 1916, when she first visited Capel House, she was working as a
war correspondent, employed by Northcliffe, in England and France. She
was married to the journalist Deems Taylor, later a composer. She seems to
have been close to the Conrads for a couple of years.
4 Massachusetts-born Muriel Gurdon Draper (née Sanders, 1886-1952) moved
in artistic and literary circles in London and the US. She worked as an
interior decorator, and was later a lecturer on this and women’s issues. In the
1940s, she was politically active with respect to American friendship for
Soviet Russia.
41
Dukes, T. Archibald 1
Dukes claims he was the medical officer when JC was first mate in
“almost the last passenger sailing ship” [the Torrens, 1891–93].2 One day,
JC astonished Dukes by asking him to correct the English of some
writing he had done, to “get more money in port.” One MS had already
been corrected. JC accepted Dukes’s alterations without question, and
“he left me doubting if he cared for the subtle distinctions expressed by
English; and supposing that he preferred those words which sounded
best.” JC was curiously unemotional about important matters, and very
little moved by right and wrong, but he would show much emotion
about unimportant matters of taste. He expressed no indignation at his
“expulsion” from Poland, and merely shrugged his shoulders. When
Dukes assured him that Poland would one day welcome him back again,
he only shook his head.
Dupré, Catherine
1 T(homas) Archibald Dukes is listed in the 1881 Census for Epsom, Surrey, as
a 15-year-old schoolboy, born in Enfield, Middlesex. Birth registered in Jan–
Mar 1866 Edmonton 3a/185. In the 1901 Census, he is a General Medical
Practitioner, unmarried, living at 16 Wellesley Road, Croydon.
2 Stape and Van Marle show that Dukes’s article is “not to be credited”
because, although “Dukes had indeed signed on for the Torrens’s 1891–92
voyage he did not appear” (“‘Pleasant Memories’ and ‘Precious Friendships’:
Conrad’s Torrens Connection and Unpublished Letters from the 1890s,”
Conradiana, 27 [1995]: 23). They suggest that Dukes “may have been after
some publicity and reflected glory when Conrad himself was no longer alive
to correct the record.”
42
Edel, Leon
Ellis, Havelock
JC, on first meeting Ellis5 [ca. 1920], had recognized him, as he had seen
a bust of Ellis in Jo Davidson’s6 studio (468).
Epstein, Jacob1
1 Jacob Epstein (1880–1959; knighted 1954) was the son of Jewish immigrants
to New York, where he studied drawing and illustrating before his departure
for Europe in 1902. Settling in London’s Camden Town in 1905, he was
naturalized six years later. His early sculpture, such as his tomb of Oscar Wilde
(1912), was the subject of much puritanical criticism. Between 1916 and 1929
he became established as a modeler of portrait bronzes and his works portray
such figures as Einstein, Shaw, the Emperor Haile Selassie and, later, Winston
Churchill. In his later years, he received numerous public commissions.
JC sat for Epstein in late March and April 1924, and the sculpture is
widely regarded as the most impressive portrait of him. On 26 March 1924,
JC wrote to Elbridge L. Adams that “Epstein has been here for the last week
doing my bust: just head and shoulders. It is really a magnificent piece of
work. He will be done modelling this week and there will be five bronze
copies cast. […] I was reluctant to sit, but I must say that now I am glad the
thing has come off. It is nice to be passed to posterity in this monumental
and impressive rendering” (LL2 341; see also Jessie Conrad, Joseph Conrad
and His Circle, 236–38, and John Conrad, Times Remembered, 205–06).
44
sound of African drums at night. He was very feudal in his ideas, and
thought the villagers were happy being servile.
His library was small, and he had few books. There was a complete
edition of Turgenev in English. Melville, he said, “knows nothing of the
sea” (76). Epstein suggested that Melville was symbolic and mystical, but
JC derided this: “Mystical my eye! My old boots are mystical.” Meredith’s
characters were, he felt, “ten feet high,” while D. H. Lawrence had
started well but gone wrong: “Filth. Nothing but obscenities” (76). He
had unqualified praise for Henry James. Of his own work, “he said it was
a toss up at one time as to whether he would write in English or French”
(76). He stressed the amount of labour that went into each of his novels.
[Epstein: An Autobiography (London: Hulton Press, 1955), 73–77, contains
a virtually identical version of this account.]
Evans, Robert O.
1 Marie Löhr (1890–1975) directed and played Lena. Born in New South Wales,
she made her London début at the age of eleven. After many years of acting
in the West End, she acquired the licence of the Globe Theatre in 1918.
2 The three-act play opened on 26 March 1919 at the Globe Theatre, and
enjoyed considerable success, running for eighty-three performances until 6
June 1919.
3 JC did not attend rehearsals, but because of illness, not because he was abroad
(see CL6 393–95). Nor does he seem to have attended a performance,
although he spent four hours with the actors during a reading on 3 March
1919 (CL6 378).
45
Farjeon, Eleanor
Ford found in JC’s study many years ago a copy of Arnold Bennett’s A
Man from the North,3 which H. G. Wells had left there.
JC used to say that writing novels was the only occupation for a proper
man, because one could do anything with the novel, provided always that
1 Edward Thomas (1878–1917), poet and critic, was the son of a Welsh railway
clerk. He graduated from Oxford in 1900, and then earned his living by
reviewing, criticism and studies of country life. He met JC at the Tuesday
literary luncheons at the Mont Blanc Restaurant. In November 1916, Thomas
had been posted as a Second Lieutenant to 244 Siege Battery at Lydd. On 10
December 1916, he came to say good-bye to the Conrads before being
posted as a volunteer to front-line service in France, where he was killed four
months later at Arras. See Najder, 422, and Jessie Conrad, Joseph Conrad and
His Circle, 199–200.
2 Eleanor Farjeon (1881–1965), poet and children’s writer. For several years
she had an intense friendship with Edward Thomas, who was married.
3 Bennett’s first novel (1898).
46
“you had your New Form” (i). JC had a “smouldering and passionate
contempt for the imbecilities of common humanity” (i).
When JC showed Ford the first draft of Chance, the latter bet him that it
would sell 14,000 copies. JC thought Ford was mad, but he later sent a
telegram enclosing the £5 wager that Ford had won.1
Galsworthy, John
1 When JC showed him the beginning of Chance in 1905, Ford announced that
it was “something magnificent,” adding that “it’s really like to do […] the
trick of popularity this time” (see Thomas C. Moser below, 531). By
November 1914, the American edition of Chance had sold 20,000 copies
(CL5 427). Najder notes that Ford was very proud of his prophecy, although
he had to wait eight years for its fulfilment (317).
2 Mid-September 1900; see CL2 291, 293.
3 Tempi passati: (Italian) “Times gone by.” E.g., The Mirror of the Sea, start of
Chap. 16: “Often I turn with melancholy eagerness to the space reserved in
the newspapers under the general heading of ‘Shipping Intelligence.’ I meet
there the names of ships I have known. Every year some of these names
disappear – the names of old friends. ‘Tempi passati!’” (The Mirror of the Sea
[and] A Personal Record, ed. Zdzisław Najder [Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1988], 56–57). Also, see the letter to W. L. Courtney, dated 9 Decem-
ber 1897, about The Nigger: “I am most grateful to you for endorsing the
words of the end. Twenty years of life went to the writing of these last few
47
lines. ‘Tempi passati!’ The old time – the old time of youth and unperplexed
life” (CL1 421). See also CL2 50, CL4 461.
1 See JC’s letter to Garnett, dated 12 November 1900: “Yes! you’ve put your finger
on the plague spot. The division of the book into two parts” (CL2 302).
2 The Island Pharisees (1904) was Galsworthy’s first important book and the first
to appear under his own name. JC read it in manuscript in April 1903 (see
CL3 30).
3 Conrad, Jessie, and Borys had a week-long break in London in 1902, ending
by Monday, 3 November. They stayed at Galsworthy’s flat at 4 Lawrence
Mansions, Chelsea Embankment (see CL2 447). The whole Conrad family
wrote to Galsworthy on 4 November to express their enjoyment of the stay
(CL2 449).
4 The portrait is possibly of Ada Galsworthy, mentioned in a letter to her of 25
July 1906: “we live with your portrait pretty considerably. It is a remarkable
piece of work. It presides silently at our meals and overlooks Borys’ studies.
But we discuss it no longer. The last word has been said and it was my boy
who said it after a period of contemplation: ‘How like Mrs. Jack this is, and I
hope she will never look like that’” (CL3 342).
5 On 7 April 1910, JC wrote from Aldington to Robert Garnett, Edward’s
elder brother, that “I hear with great joy that Edward intends to come down
here to see me” (CL4 323).
6 Galsworthy visited JC shortly after Victory was published on 24 September
1915, and he was no doubt buoyed by its good reception.
48
1 Thackeray’s Pendennis (1848) was his first great success. Major Pendennis is
the snobbish uncle of the hero, a desperately poor old soldier who manages
to mingle with all the best families of the aristocracy.
2 Thomas Hardy’s first volume of verse, Wessex Poems (1898).
3 William Dean Howells, The Rise of Silas Lapham (1885); see CL2 222.
4 Georges Bizet’s Carmen was first performed in Paris in 1875. JC’s nostalgic
affection for the work, his favourite opera, dates from that year, when he
heard it performed in the Grand Théâtre in Marseilles (as well as the works
of Meyerbeer). Before departing from Champel-les-Bains, near Geneva, in
May 1895, JC presented Emilie Briquel with a copy of the score. See Najder,
41, 179; Jeffrey Meyers, “Conrad and Music,” Conradiana, 23 (1991), 180–81;
Jessie Conrad, Joseph Conrad and His Circle, 103, 226; Borys Conrad, My Father,
49–50.
5 Galsworthy is recalling JC’s remark to him on 18 June 1910 that “I suppose
that I am now the only human being in these Isles who thinks Meyerbeer a
great composer” (CL4 338). Meyerbeer’s enormous reputation declined in
the late nineteenth century after savage and personal attacks by Wagner.
49
used to give him satisfaction twenty years and more ago, and he liked
both the personality and the writings of William James” (91).
In the last month of his life, according to Jessie Conrad, JC had “a
sort of homing instinct” and he wished sometimes to “drop everything
and go back to Poland” (95).
Garland, Hamlin
JC as a writer lacked early discipline, and all of his later books came
hard, he said. He now agonizes over every page, and 400 words is a good
day’s work. The Nigger was “a page out of my own experience. I saw a
black man die in just that way. Of course the psychology of the story is
my own, but the storm was a reality. All the hardships and terrors of that
voyage are understated rather than overstated” (82–83).1
Nostromo was “scientifically framed” (83). It began as the story of a
mine, and JC then imagined Gould. Nostromo then “took to gun,” and
the revolution began. “All that I knew of South American life gathered
around this theme.”
JC never laid out a scenario. The Rescue was suggested by the sight of
a yacht. All his stories had a “nucleus of reality round which the inci-
dents slowly cohere” (83).
Twain’s Life on the Mississippi “taught me how to use my own life” (83).
1 In June 1924, JC told Jean-Aubry that “The voyage of the Narcissus was
performed from Bombay to London in the manner I have described.” (The
crew, in fact, signed off in France.) He did not remember the name of the
man who had died on board. “Most of the personages I have portrayed
actually belonged to the crew of the real Narcissus, including the admirable
Singleton (whose real name was Sullivan), Archie, Belfast, and Donkin. I got
the two Scandinavians from associations with another ship” (LL1 77).
Najder notes that “The assumed Negro in the Narcissus was Joseph
Barron; on the crew list he put a cross against his name; he died at the age of
thirty-five, three weeks before the ship reached Dunkirk” (82).
2 This was Garland’s first meeting with JC. It occurred at Oswalds in August
1922, and Garland was accompanied by his daughter, Mary Isabel (1903-88).
3 In the entry on Bennett above, this event is placed in Vevey, Switzerland.
51
Garnett, David
The Golden Echo. London: Chatto & Windus, 1953, 22, 45, 57, 62–
64, 131.
in a book he would have begun with that” (21) [Also reprints some of
Garnett’s reminiscences in The Golden Echo, q.v.]
Garnett, Edward
“The Danger of Idols.” Saturday Review, 140 (31 October 1925): 505.
JC was extremely clear and direct in statements about his own life.
Anything more unlike Ford’s rendering of his conversation cannot be
imagined. Years ago, JC asked Garnett why he had not written a tech-
nical study of the novel. Garnett replied that it was too complicated for
his brain: “So it is for mine. I have never understood it,” said JC (141).
In matters of technique, JC followed his instinct, and had no sacrosanct
1 JC left the completed manuscript of An Outcast of the Islands for Edward Garnett
at Unwin’s office on 18 September 1895. Garnett read the concluding chapters
immediately, and found the scene of Willems’s death to be too prolonged
and static. JC replied on 24 September, thanking Garnett for his “kind and
truly friendly remarks” and agreeing with him that “the fact remains that the
last chapter is simply abominable. Never did I see anything so clearly as the
naked hideousness of that thing” (see CL1 245–48).
55
Gerhardie, William
Gide, André
1 Valery Larbaud (1881–1957), French writer and a friend of Gide and Jean-Aubry.
2 Agnes Tobin (1864–1939) came from California. “Although her parents were
Irish by descent, both had lived in Chile, and her mother was born there. Her
father had been bilingual secretary to the first Roman Catholic Archbishop
of San Francisco. She knew Yeats (who called her the greatest American poet
since Whitman), Alice Meynell, and many other literary people. Her own
work included plays and translations from Petrarch and Racine” (CL5 lvi).
Najder calls her a rich young Californian poetess and patron of writers,
particularly of Arthur Symons, who lived at Orlestone: indeed, JC’s first letter
to her in January 1909 concerns their mutual friend (Najder 371; CL4 184).
She paid her first visit to JC in February 1911, and he dedicated Under Western
Eyes to her as the person “who brought to our door her genius of friendship
from the uttermost shore of the West.” In 1912, she also introduced him to
John Quinn, the New York lawyer and collector, who purchased a number
of JC’s manuscripts.
57
Capel House1, and he returned the following year.2 JC did not like to
speak of his past life and he was unskilful in direct narration. He admired
Flaubert and Maupassant, and had a special taste for French critics,
especially Jules Lemaître.3 He had only a moderate esteem for Maurice
Barrès, and disliked his theories of expatriation.4 The very name of
Dostoevsky made him pale. JC and Gide refused to praise the work of
Georges Ohnet.5
1 André Gide, French author (1869–1951), was awarded the Nobel Prize in
Literature in 1947. He first met JC in July 1911, when he visited him at Capel
House. This was an important visit for JC: as Najder explains, Gide and
Larbaud “were already quite well acquainted with Conrad’s works. Their visit,
which marked the beginning of Conrad’s life-long friendship and corre-
spondence with Gide, was one of the signs of recognition accorded Conrad
by young French writers converging round the Nouvelle Revue Française:
Copeau, Ghéon, Gide, Larbaud, Rivière, Schlumberger. They were all united
by a dislike of literary modernism. This cult of Conrad fans had no equivalent
in England” (372).
2 Gide visited the Conrads on Saturday and Sunday, 28–29 December 1912.
He had spent Christmas Day with Henry James and Edmund Gosse; see
CL5 152, and Jean Claude, ed., Correspondance André Gide/ Jacques Copeau, 2
vols. Cahiers André Gide nos. 12–13 (Paris: Gallimard, 1987–88).
3 Jules Lemaître (1853–1914), French critic and dramatist.
4 Maurice Barrès (1862–1923), French novelist and nationalist politician. Barrès
turned to a nationalism that grew into vengeful hatred of Germany, fanned
by strong racist feelings and a love for his native Lorraine. He was an anti-
Semite and advocated the voluntary expatriation of Jews and foreigners. In
1916, JC attended a lecture by him at the British Academy (CL5 617).
5 Georges Ohnet (1848–1918), French novelist bitterly opposed to the modern
realistic novel.
58
Gill, David
JC served with Gill’s grandfather, William Paramor, in the Adowa for six
weeks (1893–94), as it lay in Rouen harbour. “Family tradition has it that
my grandfather was privileged to read the first chapters of Almayer’s Folly
at that time.”1
Glasgow, Ellen
The Woman Within. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1954, 200–02, 204.
1 See also Gill’s “Joseph Conrad, William Paramor, and the Guano Island:
Links to A Personal Record and Lord Jim,” The Conradian, 23.2 (1998): 17–26.
2 Ellen Anderson Gholson Glasgow (1873–1945), the novelist from Richmond,
Virginia. Beginning in 1897, she wrote twenty novels, mainly about life in
Virginia. She visited the Conrads in June 1914. (A photograph of her in the
garden at Capel House in CL5 Plate 3; see also Jessie Conrad, Joseph Conrad
and His Circle, facing p. 112.) In England until just prior to the outbreak of
the First World War, she also met Hardy, Galsworthy, Bennett, and Henry
James. See also Dale B. J. Randall, ed., Joseph Conrad and Warrington Dawson:
The Record of a Friendship (Durham: University of North Carolina Press, 1968),
84–86.
3 Louise Collier Willcox, a friend of Ellen Glasgow. The 1920 US Federal
Census identifies her as 53-year-old writer, born in Illinois, and living with
her husband in Norfolk, Virginia.
4 John and Ada Galsworthy had been together since 1895, but officially she
remained married to John’s cousin, Arthur. The death of John’s father in
1904 eased the threat of family sanctions, and they made their liaison public.
To escape scandal and ostracism, they went to the Continent in early 1905,
and stayed with the Conrads for a week on Capri, before being seen off from
Naples (March–April 1905). Following Ada’s divorce, she and John were
married on 23 September 1905 (see CL3 206, 225, 280).
59
Goldring, Douglas
JC never wore his heart on his sleeve for critics to peck at. He would
pour scorn and contempt on writers who had pandered to bad taste.
The author once invited JC to attend a meeting, but he declined,
saying, “Non, il y aura des Russes,” and ground his teeth with rage. JC
loved England fervently, and could not tolerate any tampering with
anything with which he had once been familiar. To change that which
had first attracted him seemed a flat blasphemy.
[Halverson and Watt print a letter from Jane Anderson2 to her husband,
Deems Taylor, describing her first meeting with JC at Capel House on
Sunday, 19 April 1916]:
His voice is very clear and fine in tone, but there is an accent
which I have never heard before. It is an accent which affects every
word, and gives the most extraordinary rhythm to phrases. And his
verbs are never right. If they are in the place they should be – which
is seldom – they are without tense; a new facet for the miracle. […]
“We will talk,” he said suddenly, “but not of ze war.” Then he
told the history of this war, and of other wars; told it with his
gestures, and his shoulders, and those extraordinary flashes in his
eyes. He said that his faith in the French, and all of his hope for
them, had been fulfilled; that the signs of decay were not decay.
They were but the imperfections that marked fine fruit; that in
England there was the goodness which is the foundation of
strength. “But for Russia,” he said, “there can be no hope. I came
1 Graham’s article was originally published with the title, “Inveni Partum” (“I
have found the door”). Later reprintings usually title it “Inveni Portum” (“I have
found the haven”), which, on internal evidence, is almost certainly correct.
2 Jane Foster Anderson (ca. 1888 or 1893–1940s?), journalist and socialite, born
in Atlanta, Georgia. She obtained an introduction to the Conrads in April 1916.
JC regarded her as “quite yum-yum” (CL5 637), and she possibly served, in
part, as a model for Arlette in The Rover and Doña Rita in The Arrow of Gold.
62
Halverson and Watt print a letter from Rebecca West1 of 19 May 1959:
1 For ten years from 1913, she had a relationship with H. G. Wells, by whom
she had a son.
2 J(ózef) H(ieronim) Retinger (1888–1960), a Polish scholar and political
activist who met JC in 1912 through Arnold Bennett. The Conrads travelled
with Retinger and his wife to Poland in 1914. During the War, Retinger
worked to advance the cause of Polish independence.
63
Halverson and Watt quote from a letter from Retinger, dated 15 May
1957:
Hamer, Douglas
Hammond, Percy
“Oddments and Remainders.” New York Tribune, 15 May 1923: 10.
JC was fascinated by Kentucky. Hammond2 later met JC and Paderewski
at a luncheon.3 JC spoke of Lord Robert Cecil’s mission4 to the US (JC
in US, May 1923).
Hand, Richard J.
“Conrad and the Reviewers: The Secret Agent on Stage.” The Conradian,
26.2 (2001): 1–67.
Hand quotes from a review of the play by Hannen Swaffer: “[JC] did not
like discussing the drama with me when I met him. ‘I am a prose writer,’
he said. And that was that” (21).5
Hardy, Thomas
The Life and Work of Thomas Hardy, ed. Michael Millgate. London:
Macmillan, 1984, 360.
In May 1907, Hardy attended dinner at the home of Hagberg Wright [in
Westminster].1 Other guests included JC, Maxim and Mme Gorky, H. G.
Wells, George Bernard Shaw, and Richard Whiteing.2
Harkness, Bruce
“Conrad’s The Secret Agent: Texts and Contexts.” Journal of the Joseph
Conrad Society (UK), 4.3 (1979), 2–11.
John Conrad confirmed Harkness’s view that, about 1905, JC increas-
ingly turned to non-fiction for nearly all of his reading. Harkness prints a
letter to him from Mrs E. L. Voynich,4 dated 1958 (8). She denies that
her husband5 was the model for Vladimir in The Secret Agent. When her
Harris, Frank
Hart-Davis, Rupert
Hugh Walpole: A Biography. London: Macmillan, 1952, 168, 171,
175, 176, 186, 187, 194–95, 215, 219, 236, 282, 286, 300, 377. [Ray,
ed., 135–39]
[In writing his biography, Hart-Davis used Hugh Walpole’s diaries very
selectively, omitting some of his visits to JC, and not always providing
precise dates. In addition, his transcription is not entirely accurate, and
he introduces much punctuation not in the original. The entries in
Walpole’s diaries relating to JC have been comprehensively and accurately
edited by J. H. Stape in his “Sketches from the Life: The Conrads in The
Diaries of Hugh Walpole” (The Conradian, forthcoming). Since that ac-
count of Walpole’s recollections will supersede that by Hart-Davis, the
entries below give only a brief indication of the topics that Walpole and
JC discussed, as recorded by Hart-Davis.]
Hugh Walpole2 met JC in 1918, at a luncheon party arranged by
Sidney Colvin3 at the Carlton Hotel. The following entries in Walpole’s
1 For a discussion of JC’s friendship with H. G. Wells, see Martin Ray, “Conrad,
Wells and The Secret Agent: Paying Old Debts and Settling Old Scores,” Modern
Language Review, 81 (1986): 560–73.
2 Walpole’s The Green Mirror (London: Macmillan, 1918).
3 During his collaboration with Ford Madox Ford on Romance (1903), JC’s role
was chiefly to correct existing text and add fragments to the novel.
4 This visit took place at Capel House: as JC reported to Sir Sidney Colvin on 17
May 1918, “We shall have Walpole here on the 1st” (CL6 221).
5 George Gissing (1857–1903), novelist; JC met him by the end of 1899, at the
latest. “Amy Foster” was written May–June 1901 and published in December
of that year.
6 “Casa Riego” is Part Third and “Blade and Guitar” is Part Fourth of Romance.
JC’s description here of his role in the novel’s writing is much more accurate
than his earlier claim that Walpole cited.
7 Walpole’s The Secret City (London: Macmillan), published on 17 January 1919.
8 JC joined the Riversdale, a clipper, as second mate in September 1883, sailing
69
for Under Western Eyes, and £750 apiece for the next three novels by
Dent. He spoke of Harold Frederic as “a gross man who lived grossly
and died abominably.”1 He said Verloc’s shop was where Leicester
Galleries now were;2 he thought it was easier to have an intellectual
friendship with a Chinaman than with an American (179; January 1919).
JC said: “The damnation of our profession is that it has no artistic
security. There’s not a masterpiece in the world but you can pick thousands
of holes in it if your digestion’s out of order – but if a carpenter makes a
good box it is a good box.” Also: “Journalists, like labour leaders, only shout
up their professions in order to get out of them” (186; March 1919).
JC was annoyed with the reviews of The Arrow of Gold, especially
Robert Lynd’s.3 He said his favourite books to re-read were Hudson’s
Patagonia and Wallace’s Malay Archipelago. He scoffed at Typee4 (187; 10
August 1919).
JC had started Suspense. Cunninghame Graham and T. E. Lawrence
came down (194–95; 18 July 1920).
JC thought that all the talk about technique was absurd, but that you
must write just as well as you could and take every kind of trouble. He
said that F. M. Hueffer belittled everything he touched because he had a
“small” soul. He became very angry as usual at the mere mention of
Americans or Russians, both of whom he detested. He was delighted to
be asked to advise some Liverpool ship men about a training-ship for
boys.5 He spoke of Nostromo and one or two short stories as his best
work (195; 19 July 1920).
During Walpole’s weekend visit to Oswalds in January 1921, JC
from London to Madras, where he left the ship in April 1884. JC had
quarrelled with the Captain, whom JC had accused of being drunk.
1 Harold Frederic (1856–98), American author and journalist, a friend of
Stephen Crane, worked in London. In 1898, he suffered a stroke of paralysis
that proved fatal. A devout Christian Scientist, he refused medical attention.
At the inquest into his death, his daughter testified that he was insane, but
the jury did not agree.
2 In The Secret Agent, Verloc’s shop is located in London’s Soho.
3 Robert Lynd’s review of The Arrow of Gold had appeared four days earlier in
The Daily News.
4 W. H. Hudson, Idle Days in Patagonia (1893); Alfred R. Wallace, The Malay
Archipelago (1869); Herman Melville, Typee (1846).
5 In July 1920, JC was invited by the Ocean Steam Ship Company, a large
Liverpool shipping business, to advise on the planned construction of a
sailing ship to be used in training boys for the Merchant Marine.
70
declared that “in selling his books in America he felt exactly like a
merchant selling glass beads to African natives.” Walpole asked him why
he didn’t write more of the England he loved so much, and JC “said he
was afraid to” (203).
On 20 October 1923, Walpole went down to spend what proved to
be his last week-end with JC. Richard Curle and G. Jean-Aubry were of
the party, and Paul Valéry1 came to luncheon. Walpole recorded that
“Conrad’s eyes lit over Fenimore Cooper and over Proust,” who stirred
him to “deep excitement.” Walpole felt that JC was certainly happier
since his visit to America,2 where he had liked the praise. He remem-
bered snubs like more mortal men (236)
JC praised Walpole’s The Dark Forest (in January 1918),3 and told him
that he had earned £20 for Almayer’s Folly, £100 for The Nigger, and
£1,000 (both countries and serials) for Nostromo (175; ca. September
1918). Walpole took James Annand4 to meet JC, in summer 1919. The
following year, JC remarked that the fundamental fact about human
nature is that “people are not better or worse but simply different” (194;
6 June 1920).5 He also commented on this occasion that he was about to
begin Suspense.
JC gave vent to a sudden tirade about publishers (autumn 1921) and
was generally “much odder” in his behaviour (215) at this time. He once
flung his arms round Walpole and kissed him at a public meeting [ca.
February 1922].
Walpole later came to feel [February 1928] that JC was “too
mysterious” (282) ever to have been a close companion, and in his last
years he had never said anything very interesting: “he was too preoc-
cupied with money and gout. He was only thrilling when he lost his
temper and chattered and screamed like a monkey” (286). JC had a
“charming, unfeeling courtesy” (300), and a “Polish morbidity and antici-
1 Paul Valéry (1871–1945), French poet, had met JC in the previous year and
visited him in October 1922.
2 JC visited America in 1923.
3 A novel (Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1916) based on Walpole’s experiences during
the war in Eastern Europe. On 20 January 1918, three days before he had
arranged to meet Walpole for the first time, JC asked Pinker, “Pray get the
publisher of the Dark Forest to send me a copy. I really must see it before I
meet the man” (CL6 174).
4 James Annand, actor.
5 This visit occurred at Oswalds. On 8 June 1920, JC told Alfred A. Knopf
that Walpole “was here yesterday” (CL6 106).
71
Hartman, Howard
The Seas Were Mine, ed. George S. Hellman. London: Harrap, 1936,
15, 82–87, 95–96, 108–19, 120–21, 209–10, 225, 250, 251–52, 298;
rpt. in part in Conradiana, 1.2 (1968) and 2.2 (1969), passim.
[Hartman met JC in London when he was nineteen (i.e., 1887) and JC,
by his own account, was nearly thirty-one (i.e., 1888) and living in
lodgings in Pimlico (i.e., 1889). Hartman later met JC in the Highland
Forest (i.e., 1887) in Singapore. Unreliable account of JC meeting models
for Lord Jim, Jewel, Schomberg, Falk, et al.]
1 B(asil) Macdonald Hastings (1881–1928), a dramatist, had his first play pro-
duced in 1912. During the war, he enlisted in the army and was later
commissioned into the Royal Air Force. Hastings approached JC about
dramatizing his novel, Victory, in early 1916 and produced an adaptation in
the following April. JC had reservations about it, but came to regard it as a
sure commercial success and showed great interest in the casting. (He also
planned to collaborate with Hastings on an original play, set in Italy with
English characters, about a forged painting by an Old Master.) In a letter of
25 January 1917, JC wrote to Hastings that “you can have no conception of
my ignorance in theatrical art. I can’t even imagine a scenic effect. But reading
your adaptation I, even I, felt something, what I imagine to be the scenic
emotion come through to me – get home” (CL6 16). Production of Victory
was delayed by the conditions of war and the illness of a principal actor, but
the three-act play eventually opened on 26 March 1919 at the Globe Theatre,
London. (Illness prevented JC attending the opening night.) It enjoyed con-
siderable success, running for eighty-three performances until 6 June 1919.
72
Irving’s Hamlet, and JC praised the actors playing Horatio and Polonius.1
Hastings reluctantly declined to collaborate with JC because he thought
One Day More hopeless, theatrically.
JC defended a book that discussed him as one of six leading men of
letters; one of the other authors “may not be read many years hence, but
he has left a definite mark on his time” (265).2
Heilbrun, Carolyn G.
and above all Shakespeare” (CL6 375). Her husband was Karol Bodzenta
Chłapowski, a friend of JC’s father and editor of Kraj.
1 On 4 June 1917, JC wrote to Hastings that “The other day I sneaked in to
see Hamlet” (CL6 98). Polonius was played by E. Holman Clark (1868–
1925), famous for his Christmas performances as Captain Hook in Peter Pan,
and JC said that “his Polonius was quite a conception and well realized too”
(CL6 98). Hamlet was being performed at the Savoy Theatre. Henry Brodribb
Irving (1870–1919), an actor-manager and lessee of the Savoy Theatre, had
made the original connection between Hastings and JC. Both Irving and
Clark were being considered for roles in Victory. Neither was eventually cast.
2 Some Modern Novelists: Appreciations and Estimates (New York: Henry Holt,
1917) by Helen Thomas Follett and Wilson Follett, who discuss JC,
Galsworthy, Wells, Bennett, Wharton, and Eden Phillpotts as their six
“Novelists of Today.”
3 Gertrude Helena Bone (née Dodd, 1876-1962), the daughter of a Wesleyan
minister, was born in Holyhead, Anglesey. A writer, she married Muirhead
Bone in 1903 in Chorlton, Lancashire.
74
Hidaka, Tadaichi1
Hind, C. L.
Holloway, Mark
Hope, G. F. W.
1 C(harles) L(ewis) Hind (1862–1927), writer and journalist. JC attended all the
rehearsals, which took place in late October, including the dress rehearsal:
“At first Conrad was quite pleased with the rehearsals. In time, however, he
became more and more uneasy: he argued with the director about the cuts,
although later he maintained that he had introduced them himself […] and
he was irritated by the acting of some roles” (Najder 470). See also JC’s letter
to the director, J. Harry Benrimo on 27 October (CL6 554–5). The play
opened on 2 November 1922 at the Ambassadors Theatre.
76
Huneker2 tells John Quinn that he had sent JC a copy of his Ivory Apes
and Peacocks, but since it contained an essay on him, JC obviously felt
unable to acknowledge directly its receipt, so he has done so via Quinn
(206; letter dated 26 March 1916).3
JC and other writers. JC told John Quinn on 27 February 1916 that “The Apes
& Peacocks book is good and immensely characteristic of our extremely
‘alive’ friend. What mental agility! What a flexible liveliness of style! And of
course he is very far from being shallow, very far; but the light of his intel-
ligence has such wonderful surface-play that one is dazzled at first. It’s only
after a while that one sees how deep he can go – when he likes” (CL5 559).
1 Le Père Goriot, a novel by Honoré de Balzac (1835), part of La Comédie Humaine.
2 Huneker’s introductory visit took place at Capel House on the afternoon of
Saturday, 12 October 1912. Four days later, JC wrote to him that “you were
no stranger for us. Ever since I first heard from You you have been one of
the men who count in our existence, often thought of, frequently spoken
about. I have had from the first the greatest respect for your attitude to life
and art and a very sincere admiration for the expression of your penetrating
intelligence and illuminating judgement of men and things. This is why I have
prized highly your generous appreciation of my work” (CL5 117). JC told
John Quinn in December 1912 that “We liked H[uneker] very much” (CL5
143).
JC first corresponded with him in April 1914, when Huneker sent him a
copy of his Egoists: A Book of Supermen (New York: Scribner’s, 1909), in which
Huneker ranked him with Ibsen, Nietzsche, Stendhal, Flaubert, Baudelaire,
78
Hunt, Violet1
The Flurried Years. London: Hurst & Blackett, 1926, 26–28, 31–39,
51–54. [Ray, ed., 122–24]
The English Review, JC said, “may have to stop, but it must not fail” (27).2
He regarded Marwood as “un galant homme” (28).3 During their collabo-
ration on Romance, JC and Ford met only in the intervals of what JC
called “vile but indispensable sensual gorging of grey matter” (35).
JC never “cared very much for the idea of America” (36), and
regarded S. S. McClure as a “prestidigitous person” (37).4
France, Huysmans, and Barrès (CL4 217–18). Huneker also praised him in
Metropolitan Magazine (April 1905) and wrote to JC that he was “the English
(and the Polish) Flaubert” (CL4 234).
1 (Isobel) Violet Hunt (1866–1942), a novelist and short-story writer, was the
eldest daughter of Alfred Hunt, the painter. Her parents were intimates of
Browning, Ruskin, Rossetti, William Morris, and all the Pre-Raphaelites. Her
first novel was published in 1894. She had a brief affair with H. G. Wells and,
in 1908, had recently begun a long relationship with Ford Madox Ford,
whose wife refused to grant him a divorce. All three members of this triangle
tried to gain JC’s support and sympathy, and Ford’s messy personal life
contributed greatly to the cooling of JC’s friendship with him. In a letter to
Galsworthy in March 1912, JC mentions “the great F. M. H. [i.e. Hueffer,
later Ford] who was here shortly after New Year with the somewhat less
great V. H.” (CL5 37).
2 Cf. JC’s letter to Ford, 28 May or 5 April 1909: “The ER. may have to stop but
it mustn’t fail” (CL4 221). If Violet Hunt occasionally seems to be echoing JC’s
letters, it is because many of his letters to Ford exist in copies made by her.
3 Arthur Pierson Marwood (1868-1916), who came from a Yorkshire county
family and read mathematics at Cambridge (though did not take a degree due
to ill-health), met JC in 1905. The friendship was to prove of great value and
importance to JC. The latter told Ford that Marwood “has always seemed to
me a gallant-homme” (CL4 222).
4 S(amuel) S(idney) McClure (1857–1949), American publisher. JC tells Ford
that “I know and you know that McC. is nothing but a sort of farceur and a
faiseur as well, and that no human being worthy of the name has been the
better morally or even materially for any connection with him” (CL4 221).
79
Janta, Aleksander
Jean-Aubry, G.
1 JC’s comments here echo his remarks to Ford about his relationship with his
wife, Elsie, and their attempts to involve him in the complications (CL4 222).
2 On 27 May 1922, JC told Jean-Aubry that “J’ai reçu avec joie le vol La
Musique et les Nations hier. J’ai lu Debussy tout de suite avec le plus grand
plaisir. Que je suis content d’avoir un Volume de Vous” (CL7 473). The
editors add that La Musique et les Nations “traces the influence of national
idioms and nationalist ideas on European music. It has chapters on Spain
(Albéniz, Granados, Falla), Italy (Malipiero), Britain (Elgar, Vaughan Williams,
Bax, Bliss, Goossens, Lord Berners), Liszt, Chopin, and Debussy.”
80
1 Frédéric Chopin (1810–49) was a fellow Pole. See Najder, 178, 387.
2 JC first met the French composer Maurice Ravel (1875–1937) through Jean-
Aubry and Mme Alvar (CL7 611). In December 1922, he told André Gide
that “J’ai eu dernièrement le très grand plaisir de faire la connaissance de
Ravel et de Paul Valéry. Ils ont été charmants tous les deux pour moi” (CL7
629). The later meeting in the company of Bennett occurred on 17 April
1923 at Mme Alvar’s; see Arnold Bennett: The “Evening Standard” Years: “Books
and Persons,” 1926–1931, ed. Andrew Mylett (London: Chatto & Windus,
1974), described above.
3 Karol Szymanowski (1882–1937), pianist and musician, was born on his
family’s estate in Tymoszówka in the Ukraine. He became the director of the
Warsaw Conservatory of Music in 1927.
About 20 December 1920, JC received three Polish visitors: Szymanowski;
Konstanty Skirmunt, the Polish chargé d’affaires in London; and another
musician, Jan Effenberger-Śliwiński. JC and Szymanowski discovered that
their families had known each other very well in the Ukraine; see Najder 457,
and Karol Szymanowski, Z listów [From the Letters], ed. T. Bronowicz-
Chylińska (Cracow, 1958), 198–99.
4 Najder writes that “On 9 May [1923] Conrad was entertained at lunch by
Colonel E. M. House, the influential politician and former advisor to
President Wilson. There he met Ignacy Paderewski, the famous pianist and
Polish statesman, of whom he apparently said later, ‘What an outstanding
man … in half an hour I learned from him more about my motherland than
I had within the last fifteen years of my life’” (476).
5 Jean-Aubry was speaking at the Royal Institution, Liverpool, on 12 Decem-
ber 1912 during the Conrads’ visit to the city to consult Jessie’s surgeon (see
CL6 542).
81
Jefferson, George
Garnett’s son, David, told the author in 1980 that Ford’s account, in
Ancient Lights, of Garnett showing him the MS of Almayer’s Folly was
“pure invention. Constance [Garnett]’s story is that Edward handed her
the MS of Almayer saying “Look at this and see if the English is good
enough for it to be published” (299).
Ford, in a letter to Edward Garnett dated 5 May 1928, described how
“I was letting my own family go short in order to keep [JC]” during their
collaboration. JC, he added, “never broke with me, or I with him” (264).
Jessie Conrad, defending her Joseph Conrad and his Circle, told Garnett
that she was a complete success as his wife (267).1 In a letter of 20
August 1935, Garnett told Cunninghame Graham that Jessie ought to
have managed a home for barmaids: “I knew that from the first &
Conrad having no knowledge of the social shades in Englishwomen &
wanting a Housekeeper has had to pay at long last, for his experiment”
(268) [i.e., by publication of her book].
Jepson, Edgar
seemed to find his family, who accompanied him, an oppression that kept
him irritable. Gibbon and JC sat on Dymchurch1 wall and talked endlessly
about the number and colour of the steamers’ funnels that they could see.
Later, Jepson met JC once at the Square Club,2 and he looked very much
on his guard. Ford is said by Jepson to dislike Victory (142–44, 150).
Johnstone, Will B.
JC liked The Rover “better than any of my other books. I always like my
last book the best.” He said he had never been a martinet or a bully
during his years at sea. He had never been seasick. He enjoyed humour,
and praised Jacobs’s sea stories. [Interviewed at home of F. N. Doubleday,
on arrival in New York]
articles, reviews, short stories, novels, and even wrote propaganda pieces
during the war. His talents were employed on everything from lost-race
novels to editing The Win the War Cookery Book and coining such slogans for
the war effort as “Eat Less Bread!” He was the maternal grandfather of the
novelist Fay Weldon (who, during a spell in advertising, created the slogan
“Go to work on an egg”).
1 Dymchurch is a small village located on Kent’s south-east coast at the very
edge of the Romney Marshes. The vast Dymchurch wall built by the Romans
to protect their harbour at Port Lympne runs for about four miles and was
about 20 feet high. From the top of the Dymchurch wall are fine views of
the White Cliffs at Folkestone and Dover.
2 The Square Club was founded by G. K. Chesterton about 1908 in honour of
Henry Fielding; its members included Ford Madox Ford, most of the English
Review set, De La Mare, Galsworthy, and Edward Thomas. The Square Club
was a monthly dining club that met in London, from about 1908 to about
1913–14, and it was perhaps the most substantial such grouping of its time,
with a concentration of those enjoying professional success. Its name
commemorated Mr Square, the philosopher in Tom Jones. Ezra Pound found
it easy to make contacts through the club when he arrived in London.
83
Jones, Edith R.
The Cranes gave the Conrads a puppy, called Pizanner, which they re-
named.1 Jones liked JC the most of any of the Brede guests, and he
would discuss books with her as seriously as with his fellow writers.
Karrakis, S.
1 “Crane, having decided that the boy needed a dog, presented him with one
of his many puppies, ‘named Pizanner because he was black and utterly
mongrel in shape.’ In honor of the toreador from Carmen – an opera Conrad
was fond of whistling arias from – the puppy was renamed Escamillo and
became a favourite of the entire family” (Najder 257; see also Borys Conrad,
My Father, 31–32).
2 S. Karrakis, a Russo-American writer and journalist, visited JC in 1921. He
had dramatized Under Western Eyes as a stage play and had sailed from
America in David Bone’s ship, the Tuscania, to submit it to JC for his
approval. Before Karrakis arrived, Bone wrote to JC about him, and Jessie
later told Bone that his letter caused JC to continue “brushing his hair fiercely
for at least ten minutes.” After the visit by Karrakis, JC wrote to Bone on 6
September 1919 that “I am very sorry that Mr K. should have taken this
trouble. Of all my novels this, especially, is the one I do not want anybody to
touch. If there is ever any adaptation it will be done by myself” (CL6 337). In
late August, JC had reported on the adaptation to Pinker: “I return the play
which is a very very poor sort of thing […] which I can’t even call bad. It is
just nothing at all. No intelligence no characterisation no interest either in the
situation or in the persons” (CL6 334).
84
Knopf, Alfred A.
Sir Herbert Baker, the architect, records what his friend T. E. Lawrence
appears to have told him about his conversation with JC in 1920: “when
meeting Conrad he probed him on the methods of his craft; Conrad
admitting but little conscious design” (250).
Lawrence, T. E.
Letters, ed. David Garnett. London: Cape, 1938. [Ray, ed., 218]
Lawrence1 said of JC that “What I shall always remember is his lame walk,
with the stick to help him, and that sudden upturning of the lined face,
with its eager eyes under their membrane of eyelid. They drooped over
the eye-socket and the sun shone red through them, as we walked up and
down the garden” (843; letter to Bruce Rogers, dated 26 January 1935).
Lenormand, H.-R.
1 The Interpretation of Dreams (1911) and Wit and Its Relation to the Unconscious
(1916), both translated by A. A. Brill.
2 Robert Smythe Hichens (1864–1950), journalist and novelist.
3 Frank T(homas) Bullen (1857–1915), writer, perhaps best known for his The
Cruise of the Cachalot Round the World after Sperm Whales (1899), an account of
whaling in the South Seas.
88
Lewis, John S.
Arthur Rubinstein visited JC,1 and he told Lewis that JC was more
correct than cordial: “he seemed stiff and formal [...]. He was trying to
adapt to English ways – We had tea” (217). Rubinstein was accompanied
by Norman Douglas.
JC confided that the first Christmas he was away from home was raw
and blustery, but he was not homesick, for he was in a new element
which he loved.2
In the late 1880s, he read his first Mark Twain book, Innocents at
Home,3 and he thought The Mississippi Pilot “the nicest of his books.” In
the Congo, JC often “thought of him looking for snags.”
1 Artur Rubinstein (1887–1982), the Polish pianist, made his London début in
1912 and lived there during the war. He visited JC at Capel House in May
1914. Rubinstein knew Aniela Zagórska, JC’s cousin with whom he had
stayed in 1914 at Zakopane in southern Poland.
2 JC’s first Christmas away from home was spent in the Mont Blanc. He had
sailed from Marseilles on 15 December 1874 for Martinique and reached
Saint-Pierre on 16 February 1875. This was his first sea voyage as a passen-
ger. See The Mirror of the Sea: “The very first Christmas night I ever spent
away from land was employed in running before a Gulf of Lions gale, which
made the old ship groan in every timber as she skipped before it over the
short seas until we brought her to, battered and out of breath, under the lee
of Majorca” (ed. Zdzisław Najder [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988],
152–3).
3 That is, The Innocents Abroad (1869), a travel-book that chronicles Twain’s
pleasure cruise in the Quaker City through Europe and Palestine with a group
of religious pilgrims.
89
Lhombreaud, Roger
Littell, Robert
JC said that “My mind isn’t critical. I haven’t got enough general culture
for criticism. A sea life doesn’t fit one for that.” He regarded writing as a
“frightful grind.” He had great feeling for the Otago, and thought all of
his ships had such good names, although the Duke of Sutherland was the
most prosaic. He mentions the name of the Tremolino thoughtfully and
tenderly. JC thought the past was “frightfully misty now” but “one
doesn’t forget twenty-seven years. All that gets merged into one solitary
impression.” Life on the sea is “altogether different now.” [Interviewed
on arrival in New York, May 1923]
Lucas, Audrey
Lucas’s daughter1 recalls that the Conrads often used to dine at their
home in 2 Gordon Place, and for a short time they lived only a few
doors away.2 JC was always in and out of their house, and “he used to
tease Borys about the number of calls he made on me, and accused him
of carrying a cake of soap, by means of standing on which he acquired
the extra height necessary to reach our doorbell.”
1 In the 1901 Census, Audrey Lucas is aged 3, living with her parents at 86
Great Portland St, Marylebone. Birth registered at Holborn, April–June 1898.
2 On 17 January 1904, the Conrads left The Pent and took a flat in Kensington
at 17 Gordon Place, near the Fords. JC returned to The Pent in late March.
91
Lucas, E. V.
Lütken, Otto
Lütken prints extracts from the records of Captain Duhst, a Dane, who
knew JC in the Congo, e.g., “I am in company with an English captain
Conrad from the Kinshassa Company: he is continually sick with
dysentery and fever” (41) [entry for 23 October 1890]. Duhst told
Lütken that JC was an agreeable and helpful travelling companion,
during the few days they were together.
Lutosławski, Wincenty
MacCarthy, Desmond
JC’s reasons for writing in English, and led to Eliza Orzeszkowa’s denunci-
ation of his “desertion.”
1 Desmond MacCarthy (1877–1952; knighted 1951), literary journalist and
drama critic. At the time of his visit to JC, he was literary editor of The New
Statesman, and later became senior literary critic of The Sunday Times, writing
weekly articles for the paper from 1928 until his death. A member of the
Bloomsbury Group, he gained wider recognition through his journalism and
broadcasting. One of the best conversationalists of his day, he described
himself as a hero-worshipper by temperament, except when he was writing.
2 For the likely date of this meeting, see the next item.
3 The date of the meeting given here differs from that in the previous item.
MacCarthy’s reference here to JC’s “new home” – Oswalds, where the
Conrads had moved in October 1919 – suggests that 1920, not 1922, is the
more likely date.
4 The “eminent author” was George Bernard Shaw, and JC described the visit
to Edward Garnett in August 1902: “Four or five months ago G. B. S. towed
by Wells came to see me reluctantly and I nearly bit him” (CL2 440). See
also Najder 285.
94
MacDiarmid, Hugh1
Mackenzie, Compton2
Literature in My Time. London: Rich & Cowan, 1933, 12, 142, 171.
JC bit his nails. His work was not much read at Oxford [1901–04].
Henry James said to Mackenzie that Marlow was “that unending and
remorseless old man of the sea” (171). JC was always dependent on
French in conversation.
John Conrad told Hans van Marle that JC was usually averse to making
underlinings in books (109 n. 45).
Marrot, H. V.
Marshall, Archibald
Shortly before JC died, Marshall1 met him at the Arts Club, where he was
lunching with Eric Pinker.2 The meeting gave Marshall an “imperishable
memory” of JC, although, he adds enigmatically, “I won’t spoil that
memory by recalling any of our talk that touched on Hueffer” (139).
Marshall’s earlier memories of JC concern their conversations in the
National Liberal Club, and they used to meet at literary lunches in the
Mont Blanc Restaurant [ca. 1908]. Marshall was editor of The Daily Mail,
and he recalls that a parcel of books, including a translation of one by
Anatole France, was once sent to JC for review, but he declined the work
[some time after 1910].
Crippen, the murderer,3 was arrested in Canada [1910], and Marshall
had been sent a list of the books that he had read on his voyage over. He
invited JC to write an article about Crippen’s “sea library,” but “poor
dear Conrad exploded in epistolary fury at being asked to do such a thing
and severed his connection with our journal” (145).
Of Hueffer’s Preface to Stories from de Maupassant (1903), which had
been translated by his wife (“E[lsie] M[artindale]”), JC said to Marshall
that “as a criticism of Maupassant’s writing it was all quite mistaken, but
that as it had been written by Hueffer of course it was well worth
reading” (146).1
There was a close intimacy between Arthur Marwood and JC, who
gave him a “warm friendship towards the end of his life.” [Marwood
died in 1916.]
Maxwell, Perriton
“A First Meeting with Joseph Conrad.” New York Herald and New
York Tribune (Magazine-Fiction-Books), 24 August 1924: 1; rpt. in
Dale B. J. Randall, “Conrad Interviews, No.1: Perriton Maxwell.”
Conradiana, 2.1 (1969–70): 17–22. [Ray, ed., 66–70]
1 On 22 August 1903, JC told H.-D. Davray that “Hueffer a écrit une petite
préface bien sentie, bien pesée” (CL3 52; see also 64–65).
2 Perriton Maxwell (1868–1947), editor, author, and artist, was born in New York.
His working life was spent in journalism, and he was editor of Nash’s Magazine,
1910-13, living at the Waldorf Hotel, London, during this period abroad.
Before the meeting with JC that he describes, Maxwell had on several occa-
sions written to him unsuccessfully to request an option on forthcoming work.
3 Maxwell dates JC’s visit to his office as occurring on 16 April 1912. The
Titanic had sunk only a few hours earlier, on the night of 14–15 April 1912.
4 Hearst’s New York American.
5 Caleb Marsh Van Hamm (1861–1919) was editor of The American, 1910–19.
This first of two articles by JC on the sinking appeared as “Some Reflexions,
98
reply, Maxwell and JC dined at the Cheshire Cheese Tavern and JC “told
me many memorable things about his life, his ships, his difficulties in
selecting good crews in the early days, and how much he delighted in his
‘farmhouse’ [Capel House] down in Kent and his quiet but productive
life as a ‘landlubber.’”
Maxwell saw JC a few months later: “he had developed something of
the dandy. His beard was cropped close, the pot hat had given place to a
more rakish ‘bowler’ and his coat had a note of Regent Street in its
snugness and contours.”
Maxwell prints an extract from an undated letter (December 1923?) to
him from JC:
I have been a stranger to Santa Claus all my life. You’ll under-
stand how the Polish children did not need a Germanic fairy saint
to give them the sense of sanctity and joy attached to the day of
Nativity in the hearts of Roman Catholics. But I have no feelings
against him personally, and if American children want him – why
should not they have him? What’s the objection? … I want liberty
for American men, women, children, for Santa Claus and for
myself. “Give me liberty – or give me death!”1 … With my love
and Xmas wishes to all free Americans, believe me, faithfully
yours (but still violently protesting as the curtain falls).2
Maxwell also quotes from a letter that JC wrote to him on 23 June 1924
in response to Maxwell’s hypothetical question concerning “probable
present-day conditions had America remained under the political
domination of Great Britain.” JC replied that “the Canadian government
is not subservient to the English Parliament” and that “the rule of the
British monarch is not theoretical, it is symbolical.”
[Reprints much of the previous item, with minor changes. E.g., the date
of the meeting is given as the night of 15 April 1912, and the New York
editor cabled in reply, “Who is Conrad? Do not want his story.”]
Prior to their first meeting, Maxwell had written to JC several times,
asking for an option on some of his work, but he always replied that
nothing was sufficiently advanced to offer. He never came to London in
those days, he said, because he was “a prisoner to his job.” While
awaiting the reply from New York, JC told Maxwell, with something of a
sigh, that “I am sometimes tempted to chuck it all and sign on for just
one more voyage.”
Maxwell met JC several times after this first meeting, and contracted
for a number of stories. JC “could be as simple as a child and as terrific
as a hurricane. Like all seafaring men, his vocabulary included a rich store
of profanity,” although he seldom used it.
Mee, Arthur
completely new kind” [The Nigger]. This statement is not present in the
1977 reprint. Chwalewik’s article is translated in CUFE, 172–78, but
CUFE substitutes, for his translation of the interview, the transcript as
given in Bojarski’s 1977 article.]
Mégroz, R.-L.
play, The Secret Agent. JC said of Gladstone’s victory in 1892 that “at least
political parties then did stand for recognizable principles” (257).1 He
regarded The Mirror of the Sea as the soul of his work.
In preparing a collected edition of his work he made no single
alteration of importance. “‘I corrected,’ he told me, ‘one or two faults of
grammar, of which there are always a certain quantity in my work – not
faults that a foreigner would make but faults that a very careless Eng-
lishman would make. I am constantly worrying about the choice of a
phrase, and deciding that “this will never do.” I do not consider myself a
literary man, you know. Yes, I am quite serious [...] many people can hit
on the exact word at once for some touch of description or shade of
meaning, while I have to rake all round my poor head! I always write as
well as I can. It is inconceivable that a man should compose less well
than he is able to do. It is like walking lame when you can walk properly’”
(257).
Mégroz wrote A Talk with Joseph Conrad and a Criticism of His Mind and Method
(London: Elkin Mathews, 1926) and Joseph Conrad’s Mind and Method: A Study
of Personality in Art (London: Faber & Faber, 1931).
Mégroz interviewed JC in the lounge of the Curzon Hotel, London, on
Thursday, 2 November 1922: on 30 October, JC had suggested meeting at
“four o’clock at the Curzon Hotel, Curzon St. I will be in the lounge down-
stairs, which is generally empty at that hour. We will get into a corner and
have a cup of tea” (CL7 561). JC was there for the opening of his play, The
Secret Agent, at the Ambassadors Theatre that evening: he did not attend the
first night, but remained at the hotel and impatiently awaited Jessie’s report.
The play, which JC had dramatised from his novel, received a bad press and
closed after nine days.
1 W. E. Gladstone formed a Liberal Government on 11 August 1892,
following a General Election.
2 John Stuart Mill, Principles of Political Economy (1848).
102
lunch.1
He read little verse, but admired Keats. Of prose writers, he admired
the seventeenth-century masters, and the sixteenth-century [sic] Jeremy
Taylor. He had little sympathy with eighteenth-century writers like
Addison. JC hated Dostoevsky, and any form of anti-loyalist creed, such
as Communism.
He was known to write in the bathroom, and at one time he would
begin writing before breakfast and might not stop to eat, but have his
food inserted in little pieces into his mouth while he continued writing.
1 Jessie Conrad also described JC’s “bad habit (acquired at sea) of making
bread pellets and flinging them about the room,” and she particularly recalls
one instance of this when several American guests had come to lunch (Joseph
Conrad As I Knew Him, 19–20; Mégroz’s article antedates Jessie Conrad’s
book by six months). See also John Conrad, Times Remembered, 189–90.
2 Galsworthy’s play, Loyalties, opened on 8 March 1922 at St Martin’s Theatre.
3 Edmund Candler (1874–1926) read Classics at Cambridge. He was a travel-
ler, war correspondent, and journalist in the Middle East and Tibet. After
1906 he was Principal of Patiala College in India, but his health forced him to
return to Europe, and he lived in his later years in the French Basque coun-
try. JC’s earliest surviving letter to him is dated 12 November 1918, although
they had met at least as early as 1914 (see Jessie Conrad, Joseph Conrad and His
Circle, 191). They might possibly have known each other since the late 1890s;
see Rachael A. Corkill, “Conrad and Edmund Candler: A Neglected Corre-
spondence,” Conradiana, 37 (2005), 11–22.
104
Mérédac, Savinien
“Joseph Conrad chez nous.” Le Radical (Port-Louis), 7 August 1931.
[Prints a questionnaire that JC completed during his visit to Mauritius in
1888; reproduced in Najder 108–09]
Meyer, Mathilde
Meyer remembers Wells and his wife visiting JC at Hythe, ca. spring
1909 (22).1
Cockerell2 recalled seeing JC hold a pen between his first and second
fingers (34).
Meyrick, Kate
Meyrick3 describes JC, who frequented her fashionable night club: “he
looked exactly what he was – an ex-sailor” [ca. 1921].
Mizener, Arthur
A Joseph Conrad Archive: The Letters and Papers of Hans van Marle.
The Conradian, 30.2 (2005): 1-145.
Van Marle notes that “Sir Christopher Cockerell1 (of Hovercraft fame)
[…] has come up with recollections of a lunch at Oswalds: even to the
boy not yet in his teens he was at the time it became obvious that Jessie
wasn’t really up to her husband’s standards. Mme Alvar’s son has treated
me to an almost identical impression and he is somewhat younger than
Sir Christopher” (75).
Van Marle records that a grandson of Wiktor Chodźko2 named
Michel (born 1916) “recalls accompanying Wiktor to Toulon harbour to
meet Conrad when he was a young boy. Michel […] thinks it was a wintry
day in 1922 or ’23. By my lights it can only have been 1921, when the
Conrads were sojourning on Corsica. Michel remembers the visitor de-
scending from an old ship […] for this obviously pre-arranged reunion”
(100).
Morley, Christopher3
“Conrad and the Reporters.” New York Evening Post, 3 May 1923: 8.
“Conrad and the Reporters, II.” New York Evening Post, 4 May
1923: 10.
JC had read Fenimore Cooper and Max Adeler.4 JC could smoke only
Marylands cigarettes, and he had only three left. [Interviewed on arrival in
New York]
“Conrad and the Reporters, IV.” New York Evening Post, 7 May 1923: 8.
JC explained how he found the epigraph for The Nigger;5 he had called on
Henry James and, while waiting for him to come down, he found a
volume of Pepys and had just read the sentence that became the
epigraph when James entered. He hurriedly replaced the book on the
shelves. James was a lovely but formidable man. [Interviewed on arrival
in New York]
1 Cf. the opening of A Personal Record, which describes “the decks of a 2,000-
ton steamer called the Adowa, on board of which, gripped by the inclement
winter alongside a quay in Rouen, the tenth chapter of ‘Almayer’s Folly’ was
begun.” This was the tenth of twelve chapters. JC served in the Adowa, a
2,097-ton passenger steamer, from 29 November 1893 to 17 January 1894;
he was in port at Rouen from 4 December to 10 January.
2 John Burroughs, “Nature in England,” Fresh Fields (1885).
3 Don Marquis, The Old Soak (1916).
4 “Max Adeler” was the pseudonym of Charles Heber Clark (1841–1915),
humorist; best known for his first novel, the bestseller Out of the Hurly-Burly
(1874), which John Conrad mentions as being in JC’s bedroom at Oswalds
(Times Remembered, 149).
5 “My Lord in his discourse discovered a great deal of love to this ship”: see
the entry for 30 March 1660 in Samuel Pepys’s Diary (first published 1825).
109
“Conrad and the Reporters, V.” New York Evening Post, 10 May
1923: 8.
David Bone was fond of quoting JC’s comment to him on the
publication of his novel, The Brassbounder (1910): “Stick to the ship. If I
had known that writing would take me away from the sea, I would never
have published a line.”
JC, among his occasional errors in English, would say “presumptious” (55).
Morley met Jean Louis d’Esque at the opening of the Memorial Library
in New York Seamen’s Institute. D’Esque, who claimed to be a carpenter
in the Torrens during the last days of JC’s command, spoke of JC’s
unusual length of arm, especially noticeable because he wore conspicuous
paper cuffs. Whenever anyone, passenger or crew, used a word un-
familiar to JC, he swiftly noted it on his cuff and memorized it.1
JC, on arrival in New York [1 May 1923], gave a long and careful study
of the skyline and then retreated to the bridge and averted his eyes. He
had had all he could carry.
1 There were in fact only four funerals: see Stape and van Marle, 23.
2 Captain Walter H(enry) Cope; JC in fact enjoyed very good relations with
Cope and held him in the highest respect.
111
Henry James was horrified by Lady Ottoline’s proposal to visit JC: “But,
dear lady . . . but dear lady . . . He has lived his life at sea – dear lady, he
has never met ‘civilized’ women” (240). In fact, she found him to be a
Polish nobleman. He said he had never recovered from the moral and
physical shock of his trip to the Congo. He regarded “The Idiots” as too
derivative from Maupassant. Writing was to him a most painful effort,
and he felt no need of expression.
Shortly after, she visited again, accompanied by Bertrand Russell,2 to
whom JC said that he found it difficult to talk to his sons or young
people for he disliked being insincere and yet did not wish to burden
them with his experience and knowledge.
In 1923,3 JC described how he first saw the sea at Venice,4 and it was
Moser, Thomas C.
Olive Garnett2 records in her diary that “Conrad spoke very despond-
ingly about his work, said he often had a mind to return to the sea &
nearly did when in Liverpool, but he had gout in the foot, & it wd. not
be honourable to engage. Afterwards he became more cheerful. We
dined together . . . Conrad was most hospitable, most simple in a good
mood, Elsie said. He told us we had wound him up” (524–25).3 Elsie
Hueffer told her of JC’s efforts to finish “The End of the Tether,” and
that “‘Youth’ is selling but he is despairing.”4 The Conrads spent the
Christmas of 1902 with the Fords, and Henry James also visited (525;
date of diary entry 5 January 1903).5 The Fords and Olive met the
1 JC arrived at Lowestoft in the Mavis, setting foot on English soil for the first
time on 10 June 1878.
2 Olive (Olivia) Garnett (1871–1957), younger sister of Edward and a friend of
Sergei Stepniak and other revolutionary exiles, published Petersburg Tales (1900).
3 Olive Garnett and Elsie Hueffer visited the Pent on 15 November 1901.
Najder comments, “Already, then, Conrad was presenting what was actually
the result of his inability to find a suitable berth as though it were the
consequence of his own decision to give up the sea” (277).
4 On 23 June 1902, part of the manuscript of “The End of the Tether” had
been destroyed by the fire from an exploding lamp; the story’s reconstruction
was not completed until 15 October 1902. For sales of Youth, a volume
including “Heart of Darkness” and “The End of the Tether” (published 13
November 1902), see, for example, CL3 4, 11, 45.
5 The Conrads stayed with Ford, Elsie, and their two daughters at Winchelsea,
arriving on 23 December. They had planned to stay for a week or longer, but
JC was feeling “very much so-so” (CL3 3) and returned home after a few days.
114
Conrads in Hythe, and JC, who had seen Pinker the previous night,
talked business with Ford (526; 31 March 1903).
Olive met Ford and JC in Gatti’s Restaurant1 and in reply to Ford’s
statement that “Romance is life seen as a scheme; realism is life seen
without a scheme,” JC said, “Exactly” (526).2 At one of Ford’s parties,
JC said, “I am at the top of the tree,” to which Henry James replied, “I
am a crushed worm.” Galsworthy and W. H. Hudson were also present
(528–29; 13 February 1904). Ford told Olive, probably referring to Chance,
that JC was “writing something magnificent” (531; 2 November 1905).
[Other significant entries relating to JC are annotated in the following
item.]
The Life in the Fiction of Ford Madox Ford. Princeton, New Jersey:
Princeton University Press, 1980.
Olive Garnett recorded Elsie Hueffer’s visit to JC [ca. July 1904] during
her husband’s nervous breakdown (56). An earlier entry in her diary
noted that “We sat by the fire in Conrad’s room (old drawing-room),
drank bovril, and tried to keep warm. I looked at Japanese books &
discussed the legitimate in art. Conrad looked at Elsie” (73; entry dated
15 November 1901).
Borys Conrad told Moser that his mother’s opinion of Ford was
“unprintable” (43), and John Conrad described her wish to “hoof out
Hueffer” (316). Borys remembered that JC and Marwood exchanged
weekly visits, without fail, until the latter’s fatal illness (104). Rebecca
West3 recalled that JC’s relations with Ford in 1909 were “very strained”
(104). The descendants of Caroline Marwood, Arthur’s wife, have the
impression that Caroline’s sisters regarded JC as a “sponge” (304).
In her unpublished “A Bloomsbury Girlhood,” Anne Lee Michell4
Mottram, R. H.
Mroczkowski, Przemysław
Munro, Neil1
The Brave Days: A Chronicle from the North. Edinburgh: The Porpoise
Press, 1931, 113–14. [Ray, ed., 94–95]
Dr John MacIntyre, nose and throat specialist, entertained JC to dinner
at his home in Bath Street, Glasgow.2 Munro, who was also present,
1 Neil Munro (1863–1930), Scottish poet and journalist. JC met him on 27–28
September 1898 during a brief visit to Glasgow in a vain search for maritime
employment. Munro’s work had appeared alongside JC’s in Blackwood’s Magazine,
and JC remarked shortly after this meeting that “Munro is an artist – besides
being an excellent fellow with a pretty weakness for my work” (CL2 130).
Munro describes a visit to the home of Dr John MacIntyre (1859–1928), a
pioneer of radiology and phonography and friend of Cunninghame Graham.
2 JC’s letter to Edward Garnett on 29 September 1898 gives the following
account of his experiences in Glasgow:
All day with the shipowners and in the evening dinner, phono-
graph, X rays, talk about the secret of the universe and the non-
existence of, so called, matter. The secret of the universe is in
the existence of horizontal waves whose varied vibrations are
at the bottom of all states of consciousness. […] But, don’t you
see, there is nothing in the world to prevent the simultaneous
existence of vertical waves […]. Therefore it follows that two
universes may exist in the same place and in the same time –
and not only two universes but an infinity of different universes
– if by universe we mean a set of states of consciousness; and
note, […] all matter being only that thing of inconceivable
tenuity through which the various vibrations of waves […] are
propagated, thus giving birth to our sensations – then –
emotions then thought. Is that so?
These things I said to the Dr while Neil Munro stood in
front of a Röntgen machine and on the screen behind we con-
117
recalls how MacIntyre displayed for JC’s benefit “all the wizardry of
Röntgen rays.”1 Munro “stood in front of a fluorescent screen behind
which Conrad and the Doctor contemplated my ribs and back-bone, the
more opaque portions of my viscera, my Waterbury watch and what coins
were in my pocket” (113). Both JC and Munro had their hands X-rayed,
and MacIntyre produced photographic prints of JC’s “good right hand.”
Another of MacIntyre’s interests was the phonograph,2 and he had
made one of the first recordings of Paderewski3 when he visited him in
Bath Street. All the best “celebrity” records in the doctor’s private
collection were played to JC.
templated his backbone and his ribs. The rest of that promising
youth was too diaphanous to be visible. (CL2 94–95)
An X-ray photograph of JC’s hand is reproduced as Plate 1 in CL2. C. T.
Watts has suggested that this experience provided the “scientific” mechanism
of The Inheritors, which JC and Hueffer were to begin two months later and
which describes the undermining of civilisation by the dispassionate “Fourth
Dimensionists” who have always coexisted with human beings on a different
plane (Notes & Queries, 212 [July 1967]: 245–47).
1 When Wilhelm Conrad Röntgen discovered X-rays in November 1895, he
contacted Lord Kelvin in Glasgow, sending him a copy of his article and
photographs of his radiograph images. Kelvin immediately understood the
potential of this discovery for medical diagnosis. At this time in Glasgow
only the Royal Infirmary had electricity, and therefore it was to John
MacIntyre at the Royal that Kelvin took Röntgen’s discovery. MacIntyre did
some brilliant pioneering work, and within six months of the discovery had
the world’s first hospital X-ray department operating in 1896.
2 Edison’s phonograph was invented in 1877, “perfected” in 1888, and first
widely available commercially in Britain in 1898.
3 Ignacy Jan Paderewski (1874–1936), Polish pianist and composer, became
Prime Minister of Poland in 1919. JC met him in America in 1923 and
admired him enormously.
118
Myers, Rollo H.
“Writing about Conrad (Part Two).” The Conradian, 8.1 (1983): 30–38.
1 Henry John Newbolt (1862–1938; knighted 1915), barrister and poet, best
known for rousing nautical and patriotic ballads such as “Drake’s Drum” in
Admirals All and Other Verses (1897). He was devoted to public and honorary
service, and he served on the committee of the Royal Literary Fund. He met
JC in 1904, but they never became close friends.
2 Edmund William Gosse (1849–1928; knighted 1925), author of Father and
Son (1907). In 1904, he was Librarian of the House of Lords and Secretary of
the Royal Literary Fund.
3 At this time, JC was very concerned about his wife’s health; a valvular defect
in her heart had recently been discovered, and she was still troubled by
lameness and neuralgia, to the extent that JC feared that she would be a
“helpless cripple. […] Half the time I feel on the verge of insanity. The
difficulties are accumulating around me in a frightful manner” (CL3 128–29;
letter of 5 April 1904). In addition to his family’s health and financial
difficulties, JC was trying to concentrate on Nostromo, which he finished in
August 1904.
4 Arthur James Balfour (1848–1930) became Prime Minister in July 1902,
resigning in 1905.
5 JC received Gosse’s official notification of the £500 grant on 11 April 1905,
and the money was paid out to the trustees on 3 May 1905. The Conrads had
left for Capri in January 1905, partly for the benefit of Jessie’s health.
6 The date of JC’s departure from Capri had always been fixed for mid-May, so
120
sioned stage work for himself” (303). On 25 May 1905, JC was back in
London and spent the afternoon with Newbolt, discussing the arrange-
ments for payment of the grant.
Newbolt’s impression of JC was that “he knew his own powers and
his value in the market, and yet so doubted their reality that he was
anxious to hear repeated assurances [...]. He was not only a successful
but a popular author: yet he was tortured by fears of malice and
invidious criticism” (309).
“O., E. B.”
“The Late Mr. Joseph Conrad.” Morning Post (London), 4 August 1924: 4.
Osborne, Brian D.
his urgent request for £150 indicates that he was seriously in debt. In June
1905, five performances of One Day More, a one-act play, were given at the
Royal Theatre.
121
Owen, Lyman B.
Palffy, Eleanor1
Parker, W. M.
“With Joseph Conrad on the High Seas.” Blue Peter (13 May 1933):
221–23.
Partington, Wilfred
Calming down, JC added, “Of course I must have Laughing Anne now ...
poor dear Anne.” JC said another copy was available (215–16).1
JC “more than once expressed to me his admiration and deep regard for
that brilliant Colonial Governor, Sir Hugh Clifford.”
During JC’s visit to America in May 1923, it was a real sensation to hear
him read his own writing with such a strong foreign accent. His
extraordinary personality is even greater than his books.
Plomer, William
Powell, John
beautiful. I thought if a bomb now were to fall on this flat how many writers
would be lost” (The Diary of Virginia Woolf, ed. Anne Olivier Bell [London:
Hogarth Press, 1980], 3: 98).
1 William Charles Franklyn Plomer (1903–73), a South African writer in
diverse genres (poetry, short story, opera libretti) who settled in England.
2 John Powell (1882–1963) was an American pianist and composer. His career
as a classical pianist began in Berlin in 1907. His composition for piano and
orchestra, Rhapsodie nègre, first performed at Carnegie Hall in 1917, was
inspired by “Heart of Darkness” and dedicated to JC. JC met him in 1912
(introduced through Warrington Dawson), and on one visit to Capel House
Powell played Chopin for hours.
125
Pugh, Edwin
1 Edwin William Pugh (1874–1930) was the son of a member of the Covent
Garden Orchestra, his mother a wardrobe mistress at the theatre. He began
work at thirteen in an iron factory and was later in a solicitor’s office. His
first novel, A Street in Suburbia (1895) was followed the next year by The Man
of Straw. His reputation was that of a realist, absorbed in the London scene’s
sordid or grotesque characters. His first meeting with JC that he describes
probably occurred in spring 1898.
2 This visit possibly occurred in late November 1898 (see CL2 123, 126).
3 Bart Kennedy (1861–1930) was an author and lecturer whose activities in-
cluded being a sailor, labourer, and tramp in the US, and an actor and opera
singer.
126
Pugh, Mrs J. C. L.
Putnam, George
Ransome, Arthur
1 Konstanty (“Kocio”) Buszczyński (1856–1921), a year older than JC, was his
friend in Cracow from 1869 to 1873. He was to establish a renowned seed
firm in Cracow. For their reunion, see Jessie Conrad, Joseph Conrad As I Knew
Him, 70, and Joseph Conrad and His Circle, 167–68, 251 (photograph of
Buszczyński facing 160); also Borys Conrad, My Father, 85–86.
2 Stefan Buszczyński (1821–92) was a friend and biographer of JC’s father. He
was active in the 1863 Insurrection.
3 Arthur Ransome (1884–1967), author of the Swallows and Amazons series of
children’s books.
128
Reid, B(enjamin). L.
The Man from New York: John Quinn and his Friends. New York:
Oxford University Press, 1968, 569.
F. N. Doubleday, JC’s host during his visit to America, wrote to John
Quinn that JC was very frail: “I think the trip did him good, but how he
ever had the nerve to leave England in his condition beats me. However,
it didn’t seem to do him any harm in the end, but I had many anxious
moments during his visit” [dated 26 July 1923].
Reynolds, Mabel E.
1 Mabel Edith Galsworthy (born 1872) was John Galsworthy’s younger sister.
She married Thomas Blair Reynolds, a civil engineer and musician, in 1897.
2 Katherine Susan Oldfield Sanderson (née Warner, ca. 1843–1921). The Mirror
of the Sea was dedicated to her and notes that her “warm welcome and
gracious hospitality extended to the friend of her son cheered the first dark
days of my parting with the sea.” Her husband, Lancelot, was headmaster of
Elstree, a preparatory school in Edgware, Middlesex. JC spent ten days at
Elstree in mid-April 1894 as he was completing Almayer’s Folly.
130
Rhys, Ernest1
After his interview with JC, Rhys sent him a Hogarth print2 and
requested permission to reprint a short story. JC replied cordially, but
ignored the request. Rhys next met JC at a meeting to arrange a
memorial to W. H. Hudson.3 JC said, “I hung up that Hogarth on my
wall, and do you know what? It keeps me straight” (268).
1 Ernest Rhys (1859–1946) was one of the first three members of the
Rhymers’ Club, which was established at the Cheshire Cheese Tavern in
1889, and where he later met W. B. Yeats, Lionel Johnson, and Ernest
Dowson. Rhys’s principal achievement was his founding of Everyman’s
Library, the series of literary classics he produced with the support of the
publisher, J. M. Dent. Rhys had met JC during the war. The visit recorded
here occurred on 18 November 1920 (see CL7 206). Rhys had been
commissioned to write an article on JC, which was later published in the
Bookman in 1922 (see next item).
2 Rhys describes the print as one in which “the godless youth is putting off in a
boat attended by a gaol chaplain and rowed by a boatman as ugly as sin.”
This would appear to describe Hogarth’s “The Idle ’Prentice Turned Away
and Sent to Sea,” Industry and Idleness (1747), Plate V.
3 This meeting was held on 28 November 1922 at the office of Hugh R. Dent,
the publisher. A committee had been formed to erect a memorial to Hudson
in Hyde Park. (Edward Garnett and Cunninghame Graham were also
members.)
131
Roberts, Cecil2
Roberts recalls JC’s describing to him his sad childhood, his school
work, his visits in the evening to his dying father’s bedroom, and the
latter’s funeral (348).
1 This meeting with JC and Garnett possibly occurred in JC’s temporary flat at
Hyde Park Mansions on Friday, 22 February 1918 (see CL6 188).
2 This conversation took place at their first meeting on one “dreary” February
afternoon in 1918 in Grace Willard’s new flat off Bedford Square. In the last
133
JC said he had known only the ardour and never the pleasure of
writing: “Perhaps that is because I began late, when experience checked
the singleness of youthful thought. I have never been fluent. Easy writing
– and I do not say it cannot be good writing – is not possible to me. My
success seems in proportion to my effort, to my striving. I feel that
generalship has brought me whatever victories I may claim – if any”
(539). “I could be content if I could think something of mine, something
however small, might endure a while. One has expressions of immor-
tality – there are my boys – but one’s writing is one’s own immortality, if
it can be achieved” (539). In response to Roberts’s praise of Nostromo, JC
said, “Nostromo is my best book, it is more Conrad than anything I have
written, that is, in the sense that it embarks on my greatest imaginative
adventure, and that it involved the severest struggle. No work cost me so
much, and, achieved, gave me such satisfaction. I stand by Nostromo, out
of the frailty of flesh, hoping it may last a while for a memorial. And yet
it did not succeed with the public. They will not have my poor Nostromo.
They prefer Lord Jim” (540).1
quarter of 1916, JC had made several North Sea voyages with the Royal Navy
as an observer in the war effort. He subsequently wrote “The Unlighted
Coast” for the Admiralty, probably in December 1916, but, lacking propa-
ganda value, it was published only posthumously. JC did not keep his
agreement to write more articles for the Admiralty.
1 This second conversation took place in the Conrads’ flat at Hyde Park
Mansions on Friday, 22 February 1918 (see CL6 188). Edward Garnett had
been present earlier in the evening.
134
up for military service, and JC wrote to Roberts to ask him to try and
obtain a post for Garnett in one of the War Ministries.1 Unfortunately,
Roberts never received the letter, addressed to his club (168; 165–71
reprint much of Roberts’s Half Way, q.v.)
Roditi, Édouard
Rothenstein, John3
1 Garnett had been serving in the Friends’ Ambulance Unit in Italy, and he
enlisted JC’s help in May 1918 to obtain “a Govt job of a civil nature” (CL6
218). JC approached Roberts, who was at the Ministry of Munitions.
2 Then in Edgware, Middlesex (now in Woolhampton, Reading, Berkshire).
3 John Knewstub Maurice Rothenstein (1901–97; knighted 1952), eldest son of
William Rothenstein. An art historian, he was director of the Tate Gallery,
1938–64. In 1921, JC asked his father to “Remember me specially to John,
whom I know better than all the others” (CL7 373).
135
Rothenstein, William1
It was Ford who suggested that Rothenstein should paint JC, and he was
invited to The Pent for a weekend [July 1903]. JC had met few painters
and was curious about the painter’s outlook on life. Wells had been
invited for Sunday lunch, but never came. JC also wished to introduce
Rothenstein to Galsworthy, of whom he said that “our first meeting was
when I ordered him out of the way; he was a passenger on my ship, you
know; he is such a good friend; but insists on writing, poor fellow.
Russell, Bertrand1
Safroni-Middleton, Arnold
1 The Hon. Bertrand Arthur William Russell (1872–1970; 3rd Earl Russell
1931) was a philosopher and mathematician, and a lecturer at Trinity College,
Cambridge, when he first met JC in 1913. Russell had a great admiration for
JC and his work, and they were exceptionally close friends for about a year
after their first meeting. Russell was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in
1950.
138
Sargent, George H.
Saunders, A. T.
Saunders,2 who corresponded with JC, sent the latter’s good wishes to
Mrs. James Simpson, widow of the owner of the Otago. She replied to
him [2 May 1917]: “Your letter giving Joseph Conrad’s message and
address reached me yesterday: thank you very much for it. We all remem-
1 Presumably this was the epigraph JC did not eventually use and described at
this time to James Walter Smith (see below).
2 “Born in Queensland […], Alfred Thomas Saunders of Adelaide, South
Australia, was an accountant and amateur historian who often published the
results of his researches in the Adelaide Mail. In 1888, when Conrad com-
manded the Otago, Saunders had been working as a clerk for her owners,
Henry Simpson and Co.” (CL6 18).
139
Schwab, Arnold T.
Sée, Ida-R.
Sherman, Thomas B.
Shorter, C. K. 1
“Books Make the Best Furniture.” Sphere, 103 (31 October 1925): 157.
Sibley, Carroll
Mrs Conrad had “early literary ambitions, but Conrad [...] would
invariably stick my stuff away in a drawer, and I would never see it again,
although he’d promise to get to it sometime” (95). [Interviewed ca. 1935]
1 “Crane decided to celebrate the end of 1899 with a big party open to the
local population. The crowning attraction of the evening was to have been
the staging of a burlesque, The Ghost, allegedly written by ten authors,
including Conrad, James, Gissing, Wells, and the host himself. Conrad’s real
contribution to the entertainment, which lasted three days, is unknown”
(Najder 263).
143
Stape and Van Marle (24) quote from an obituary of Walter Banks,
whom JC met aboard the Torrens in 1891–92; the obituary noted that
Banks, a civil engineer from Stockport, “corresponded for years with
Conrad, and used to say of him: ‘He was a most lovable character, but he
could be stern as a mate’” (from The Stockport Advertiser, 28 December
1951: 13).
JC also met E(phraim) B(rownlow) Redmayne (ca. 1836–1914), a
cotton-waste-dealer on his second voyage in the Torrens: “family legend
has it that they became friendly during Conrad’s night watches when
Redmayne, who suffered from insomnia, fell into talking with him” (25;
Stape and van Marle cite private correspondence).
John Galsworthy recalled that, when he first met JC on board the Torrens
in 1893, he was engaged in the hot and dirty work of stowing cargo and
had “the air of a pirate.” “Conrad’s watches (he was first officer) were to
me the gems of the voyage – if You know him as a raconteur You will
understand” (53; letter from Galsworthy to William Archer, dated 29
September 1906).
Max Beerbohm said of JC that “Our meetings were only three in all.
The last was a few months ago, in Theodore Byard’s room at the office
of the firm of Heinemann. He look [sic] so well in health; he was so
vivacious; he was so immensely courteous (he always had lovely manners:
everybody was agreed about that!)” (247; letter to Jessie Conrad, dated 6
August 1924).
144
[Stark, Harold]
Stein, Marian L.
Stravinsky, Igor
Dialogues and A Diary. London: Faber & Faber, 1968, 249–50. [Ray,
ed., 221]
145
Sutherland, J. G.2
“At Sea with Conrad.” Nautical Magazine, 105.5 (May 1921): 385–90.
JC spoke of his early days at Cracow University [sic]. He did not show
anxiety for his son Borys who was fighting in France, and he spoke of
him with great pride and feeling. He loved to discuss the courts of
Europe, who married whom, and why. He could talk for hours about the
sea and had an infectious cheeriness.
Had JC known the full story of the sinking of the Jeddah, he would not
have omitted to mention that the pilgrims came on deck in their grave-
clothes to await their doom. [This anecdote is also found in Gertrude
Atherton’s book: see above.]
Swinnerton, Frank1
Henry James was not “wholly approving” (125) of JC’s work. H. G. Wells
gave “irresistible imitations of Conrad’s broken English” (125–26), while
Arnold Bennett once exclaimed, about JC, “That poor tired old man!” Ford
once mumbled some hardly intelligible words to Swinnerton about JC, in
which “ridicule, patronage and enthusiasm were communicated” (126).
One of JC’s favourite schemes, which he discussed with friends, was a
plan to exploit his wife’s talent for cookery by opening a boarding-house.
Symons, Arthur1
Arthur Symons: Selected Letters, 1880–1935, ed. Karl Beckson and
John M. Munro. London: Macmillan, 1989.
[Rhoda Symons, wife, to James G. Huneker, 24 December 1910] “we go
over and see Joseph Conrad occasionally – Arthur has a passionate
admiration for him” (202).
“Yesterday was splendid. A[gnes Tobin] hired a car from Rye and we
went to the Conrads.2 A. and C. talked at such a rate that I imagined how
on earth I was to edge in words between them: about Poland, Polish,
California, etc. Finally my triumph came. Exit all but C. and I. He said to
A.: I must talk with A.! And such a talk we had. He said: How living you
look. Your beard gives you un air distingué, a poetical distinction. Then I
read him ‘Crimen Amoris.’3 He sat close beside me on the sofa, and
listened, breathing hard. One or two interruptions came: up went C.,
door shut: back: then: magnificent! what a magnificent translation. So I
read over in a sonorous voice the 1st stanza and then the last in its lovely
nuances (adores; implores). Then C.: I am transported.
Then money. He said: I have had £300 for the serial rights of my
novel:4 think of those awful creatures who get thousands. I may get
altogether £1,000 out of it. Mais, I am always under the water. (He was
walking to and fro, smoking.) I am not content with my novel. It has no
end. It sickens me when I have to sit down to my desk and write so
many thousand words for a short story – for money. (He put his hand
over his forehead: All is here!) But how can I go on?
1 Arthur William Symons (1865–1945), poet, critic, and author of The Symbolist
Movement in Literature (1899). Symons suffered several severe nervous break-
downs, and JC met him quite regularly during the period 1909–12, offering
his support and encouragement. Symons lived nearby at Wittersham, Kent.
2 On 7 February 1911, JC told Symons that “I was glad to see you more alert,
more hopeful and altogether better this time,” adding that “Miss Tobin’s
passage under our roof left a delightful scent of intelligence and charm of a
finely humane quality” (CL4 411–12).
3 From Paul Verlaine’s Jadis et Naguère (1884).
4 Under Western Eyes.
148
“Conrad was caressingly kind. Vous avez l’air très bien, plus raffiné, plus
jeune: et tout le reste. He was intensely absorbed in my Collected Edition:
listened to every detail; gave me some wise hints; and never have we had
such a conversation, so natural, so simple, and for several hours. He was
just the same, somewhat less nervous, but with all his vitality. He said a
splendid thing: We overleap two centuries” (223).
JC drove “the funniest little car I ever saw. He bought it or hired it for
a year – awfully cheap. And his childish enjoyment at this new adventure
was amusing” (224).1
“And he told me two strange affairs of his. He got £40 for the
Titanic,2 which he wrote in 48 hours. Before then he had sold the MS of
The Outcast of the Islands [sic] (of immense length, 800 pages or more) and
for only £40” (224).
“Conrad is most curious to see [Augustus] John3 when he comes
here” (224).
“Conrad was more himself than ever: proud of his work, praising my art
as aesthetic, exactly like the prose of Flaubert: What a compliment! He
got excited over The Secret Agent; told me lots about it. As I said entirely
ironical. He: I showed an utter contempt for those Nihilists. The murder
and the rest made it. My quality, as a foreigner, is that of the art of
“We spent a day with Joseph Conrad. He was sinister, one mass of
writhing nerves; irritable and impatient – yet always the man of genius”
(252).
JC was incapable of rest. When not writing, he was elaborating a fine art
of conversation. He told Symons that “I do not create, I invent.” JC was
the proudest man Symons ever met, and the most lovable. He was
inscrutable and impenetrable at times, and there was something almost
inhuman in his aspect. He had a physical disquietude.
Temple, Frédéric-Jacques
Thomas, Edward
Thomas3 says he has just spent a couple of days with the Conrads [letter
of 26 August 1910]. JC “looks something like Sir Richard Burton in the
head, black hair, and moustache and beard and a jutting out face, and
pale thin lips extraordinarily mobile among the black hair, flashing eyes
and astonishing eyebrows, and a way of throwing his head right back to
laugh.” He was very friendly (206–07).
Tittle, Walter2
“The Conrad Who Sat for Me.” Outlook (New York), 140 (1 and 8
July 1925): 333–35, 361–62. [Ray, ed., 153–63]
his previous literary efforts and to provide for his family. His trouble, he
was convinced, was not the result of overwork: “I really am able to
achieve so little, and, besides, hard work never hurt anybody. It is some-
thing else. Sixty-five is a critical age for many men” (333). [1922]
When Tittle suggested a visit to America, JC refused to believe that
he was well known there, since he felt he was not a writer of great
popularity and had a distinctly limited audience. His eventual trip to
America quickly shattered his “unbelief in his fame” (334).
JC agreed with Tittle’s view that much of the beauty that inspires
creative work is omitted from the finished work; “I have estimated the
proportion that can be captured at about thirty-five per cent,” he said
(334).
When JC was sitting for his portrait [6 January 1924?], Tittle asked
him how he regarded The Rover [published 3 December 1923]. JC sat for
a moment in an attitude of deepest dejection, and then replied: “I have
not yet made up my mind about it. It worries me. It is going wonderfully
well both here and in America, and the reviews have been excellent,1 but
I cannot come to a satisfactory conclusion about it myself. I cannot
decide if it is one of my best works. Perhaps I shall know later. It may be
the best of the lot, but for the moment I am very much at sea about it.
Which is my best book? Again, I don’t know. They are all so different. I
can never resist the temptation to experiment, and can never write in the
same way twice. ‘Nostromo’ is my biggest canvas, my most ambitious
performance. Perhaps it is the best. I do not know. Dickens and
Thackeray always wrote in a consistent style. They had established methods,
and one book resembled another, so that comparison is possible. This is
not the case with me. With each effort I want to try something new. This
makes immediate comparison very difficult, almost impossible” (334).
The Rover, he explained, was written at least eleven times, and he had
to cease work repeatedly because of illness. He rarely used a stenog-
rapher, and the writing had to be done largely by hand. The first draft of
a novel can be dictated, and then begins the endless re-writing: “I hate to
write! I do it only when an idea comes to me so strongly that I cannot
resist it. Otherwise it would be impossible for me. I write when a story
demands telling so strongly that there is no further possibility of post-
ponement. I am not a literary man. Literary men can write about
anything, often with equal facility. I am not one of those clever and
accomplished people” (334–35). JC disagreed with Tittle’s idea that he
should write a book on his impressions of America: “that sort of thing is
not possible for me. I cannot sit down in cold blood and write for profit.
I can produce only creative work, and that only when the desire to write
is so strong that it takes complete possession of me and resistance is
impossible” (335).
He instructed Tittle to “paint me to look as I am – an old pirate with
hooded eyes, like a snake! You laugh? Well, I was virtually a pirate once.
I commanded that filibustering ship in The Arrow of Gold, you know, and
was nearly captured many times.”1 He asked Tittle not to alter the length
of his nose in the portrait: “That’s the Korzeniowski nose absolutely.”
Even the posture was correct, he thought, for “My father used to sit like
that” (335). James Barrie2 applauded Tittle’s portraits of JC: “It is so like
him as he used to sit talking with me by the hour in my studio. [...]
Always so nervous and intent on the subject in hand” (335).
“Technique,” JC remarked to Tittle, may these days be “blatantly
scoffed at by so-called modernism [but] I find a command of it indis-
pensable in my own work; for, after all, my dear, technique comprises
about sixty per cent of any art, doesn’t it?” Dickens, a “very great
writer,” will live when his modern critics are long forgotten (361).
JC had a deep aversion to cinema, and thought that Chaplin’s work
was vulgar. Films, he said, are “stupid, and can never be of real value. [...]
Shadowgraphs3 in pantomime are much better” (362).
JC described himself as “a sailor, not a society man. I could sit on a
wharf in Marseilles and talk to an old salt with pleasure, at any time. I can
always get on with people like that, but not with everybody” (362).
[Tittle’s recollections of JC, 1922–February 1924]
1 In The Mirror of the Sea, JC explains how he and three other adventurers
smuggled guns in the Tremolino in 1877 for the supporters of Don Carlos,
Pretender to the Spanish throne, from Marseilles to Spain. The ship had to
be run onto the rocks and wrecked to escape the coastguard. However, there
is very little evidence to support this claim.
2 J(ames) M(atthew) Barrie (1860–1937; knighted 1913), Scottish novelist and
dramatist, author of The Admirable Crichton (1902) and Peter Pan (1904). JC
met him in 1903, and Barrie provided moral and financial support, although
the two men were not close friends.
3 Shadowgraphs are silhouettes made by casting a shadow, usually of the
hands, on a lighted surface.
156
“Mrs. Conrad was not eclipsed by her Husband.” New York Times
[Book Review], 17 May 1925: 2.
JC told Tittle that “Henry James said that no artist should ever marry.
[...] I think he was right as this applied to his own case; certainly he was
better off as a bachelor. He nearly excommunicated me when I married
but soon became reconciled to the idea when he saw how beautifully it
worked out.”
JC was a rather refractory invalid; a new medicine would fill him
with enthusiasm, and he would try to consume several days’ supply
within the first few hours, after which he would exclaim in disgust,
“Take it away. It is terrible stuff. I cannot stand it.” Tittle once heard JC
remark, “Women are so silly! All except you, my dear Jessie.” Jessie
related to Tittle one of her husband’s motoring adventures; their son,
Borys, was driving with JC one day when, to avoid a collision, he drove
into a ditch. Both were thrown out of the car, and Borys “cried out
excitedly just as they were toppling over, ‘Are you hurt, Dad?’ He
declares most solemnly that the answer came while his father was in
midair, ‘All right so far!’”1
again with great enthusiasm, and when my first book was published it
had good notices from the best of the critics” (549).
Shortly after the opening of his play, The Secret Agent [2 November
1922], JC said, “I cannot sit down and say ‘Now I will write a play’; a
play or novel must germinate in my mind and demand to be written. I
cannot force it. And I cannot knowingly make concessions to the
popular taste. If I wrote a bad play it would not be because I willed it,
but in spite of the fact that I was trying to do my best” (549).
JC has a high estimate of Arnold Bennett, who, as a young writer,
vowed to JC and Wells that, in ten years, he would be one of the most
popular writers in Britain: “We exchanged a smile at this, but hanged if
he did not go and do it!” (550). JC held Chesterton in the greatest admi-
ration: “He will stand as one of the biggest literary figures of his time”
(550).
“Write and Burn, Conrad advises Yale Aspirants.” World (New York),
20 May 1923, 2nd News Section: 1, 3; rpt. in Dale B. J. Randall,
“Conrad Interviews, No. 4: Edward K. Titus, Jr.” Conradiana, 3.1
(1970–71): 75–80.
[JC interviewed in New Haven, 16 May 1923] “Self-expression succeeds
only when the writer has lived through many experiences” (77), JC said.
He admired what he would perhaps call the “poetic novels of Browning”
(77). He praised Henry James, and was unenthusiastic about the influx of
steamboats. He thought he had been a good captain. He had originally
planned to enter the diplomatic service, and his eventual decision to
become a sailor, he hinted, had not been well received in some quarters –
“It seemed like becoming a Capuchin monk” (79).
1 Edward K. Titus, Jr, appears in the US Federal Census of 1920, aged 16 years
and living with his parents in Newton City, Massachusetts. Born
Massachusetts. His father, Edward K., was a journalist. His World War II
Enlistment Record (1942) gives his date of birth as 1903, and he worked as a
journalist and in the motion picture industry.
158
Tomlinson, H. M.1
JC regretted that Pará1 was a landfall that he had never made. His voyage
in the Torrens was the one after she was dismasted in a blow and had put
into a West Indian port for repairs. He had forgotten the name of her
owner until Tomlinson reminded him (5).2
Tschiffely, A. F.
“An Unusual Modern.” America (New York), 29 (19 May 1923): 111.
Valéry, Paul
Valéry3 met JC in London and again, in Kent, shortly before his death.
JC spoke French with “un bon accent provençal” and English with “un accent
horrible” (663). JC recalled his memories of France, its navy and sailors, and
they discussed at length the failure of the French navy to rule the waves.
Valéry tells Gide that he spent yesterday with JC [October 1922]: “Je lui
dis qu’il devrait écrire en français ses souvenirs marins de Marseille et de
Cette. Il paraît assez alléché de l’idée, qu’il repousse en même temps”
(493).1
Valéry to Gide [November 1922]: “Conrad charmant. Parle Cette et
Montpellier et balancines et marchepieds” (494).2 Gide [October 1923]
asks Valéry to send “mille souvenirs” to Arnold Bennett and, perhaps, to JC,
who had called on him at his home in Cuverville recently when he was out.3
Veler, Richard P.
Vidan, Ivo
1 JC first met him at the London salon of Lady Colefax in 1922 and promptly
invited him to Oswalds in October of that year.
2 Valéry lunched at Oswalds on 5 November 1922 (see CL7 557).
3 André Gide, French author (1869–1951) was awarded the Nobel Prize in
Literature in 1947. He first met JC in July 1911, when he visited him at Capel
House in the company of Agnes Tobin and Valery Larbaud. JC’s attempted
visit to Gide in Cuverville, the country estate of his wife, accompanied by
Jessie Conrad, son John, and G. Jean-Aubry, took place in September 1923;
see John Conrad, Joseph Conrad: Times Remembered, 208.
162
[Vidan prints and translates Perse’s letter, which recalls his visit to JC,
summer 1912.1] JC and Perse discussed Melville, W. H. Hudson,2 and
Edward Lear’s “The Jumblies.” JC had an unexpected taste for Molière
and Zola, but had a strong dislike of Dostoevsky, to whom he preferred
Turgenev. He declared that he loved, not the sea, but the boat, the
triumph of skill and man against the sea. Perse was surprised by JC’s
curiosity about the role of women behind the course of events.
[This letter has also been published in Le Figaro, 18 November 1972,
and in Roger Little, “Saint-John Perse and Joseph Conrad: Some Notes
and an Uncollected Letter,” Modern Language Review, 72 (1977): 811–14.
Another translation is given in Little’s “A Letter about Conrad by Saint-
John Perse,” Conradiana, 8 (1976): 263–64.]
Walt, James
claustrophobic. “His body as well as his mind was eternally restless,” she
said; “I often wondered why he called this ‘home,’” although JC used to
assure Jessie that “He had lost his love of roving” (260).
JC lacked any taste or enthusiasm for good music. Jessie described
him as, in essence, a Polish sailor. He held old-fashioned political princi-
ples, praised monarchs in general, and looked at great medieval ventures
like the Crusades with nostalgia. She also remembered him saying that a
story must contain living men and women situated in a “real, ambient
background” (261).
In [July?] 1913, Watson1 sent the manuscript of his first novel [Where
Bonds Are Loosed (1914)] to JC, who, with Arthur Marwood, read it seven
times and made thirty-one pages of notes. They wanted Watson to
reduce it to a long short story of forty thousand words, and JC thought
that Watson’s style mingled his own manner with that of Clark Russell.2
JC was pleased that Watson liked “The Secret Sharer” best of all his
works, saying of it, “Ah, that story! [...] I wrote that just for myself. Yes, I
am glad you like it” (150).
Watson, Frederick3
The Life of Sir Robert Jones. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1934.
Watt, Ian
“Gelert,” the faithful hound of the medieval Welsh Prince, Llywelyn the
Great, who was tragically killed by his master.
1 Anatole France, Jocaste et Le chat maigre (1879), his first collection of short
stories.
166
Weitzenkorn, Louis
“Conrad, in light and shadow, talks of Crane and Hardy and the
paleness of words.” World (New York), 3 June 1923, 2nd News
Section: 1S, 3S; rpt. in Dale B. J. Randall, “Conrad Interviews, No.
6: Louis Weitzenkorn.” Conradiana, 4.1 (1972): 25–32. [Ray, ed.,
197–201]
[Weitzenkorn2 interviewed JC in America, 30 May 1923] JC pronounced
“very” as “vairy.” He praised Stephen Crane’s The Red Badge of Courage,
and said that Crane was the first person to call him Joseph. There was
always a crowd around Crane, and JC used to sit in a corner and wait till
he was free.
JC regarded Thomas Hardy as the last of the Elizabethans, and a
Victorian also. He thought the English were all Elizabethans, and that
the sentence in “Heart of Darkness” about a gun-boat shelling a con-
tinent “sounds to me just like Conrad.” He discussed the origin of Dona
Rita’s physical cowardice [in The Arrow of Gold].
Wells, H. G.1
JC pronounced the final e in “these” and “those,” and he would say “Wat
shall we do with thesa things?”2 He was always unsure about the use of
“shall” and “will.” “When he talked of seafaring his terminology was
excellent but when he turned to less familiar topics he was often at a loss
for phrases” (616).
Wells and JC had a “long, fairly friendly but always rather strained
acquaintance” (618). He was incredulous that Wells could take social and
political issues seriously, and Wells’s indifference to stylistic matters
irritated him. JC would ask, “What is this Love and Mr. Lewisham about?”3
(618), although he would ask the same about Jane Austen. One day, on
Sandgate beach, JC asked Wells how he would describe a boat which
they could see. Wells replied that he would simply use “the commonest
phrases possible.” This was “all against Conrad’s over-sensitized recep-
tivity that a boat could ever be just a boat. He wanted to see it with a
definite vividness of his own” (619).
JC first met Shaw at Wells’s house, and felt he had been insulted by
him. Wells explained that it was merely Shaw’s humour: “one could
always baffle Conrad by saying ‘humour.’ It was one of our damned
English tricks he had never learnt to tackle” (622). On another occasion,
JC wanted Ford to challenge Wells to a duel, after Wells had commented
that an article Ford had written on Hall Caine sounded as if its author
were a discharged valet. Ford told Wells, “I tried to explain to him that
dueling isn’t done” (622).1 Ford and JC remain in Wells’s memory as
“contrasted and inseparable” (617). Wells thought there was something
ridiculous in JC’s “persona of a romantic adventurous un-mercenary
intensely artistic European gentleman carrying an exquisite code of
unblemished honour through a universe of baseness” (621).
At their first meeting, Ford told Wells that he had persuaded JC to col-
laborate with him. Wells warned him that this was a “very mischievous
enterprise” (128). [Letter to the Editor]
West, H. F.
1 Najder comments that Wells “was taken in by the story that Conrad had tried
to persuade Ford to call Wells to a duel; a typical Fordian fabrication” (285).
Hall Caine (1832–1931), popular novelist.
2 H(erbert) F(aulkner) West (1898–1974), bibliophile and Professor of
Comparative Literature at Dartmouth College.
169
wrote especially for this book, 112–15.] JC, said Curle, never criticised
Cunninghame Graham. Shortly before JC’s death, Graham and Mrs
Dummett1 visited JC at Oswalds. JC praised his Mogreb-El-Acksa.2 They
regarded each other as extraordinary personalities.
Curle also told West in a conversation that JC would say to him,
“We must collaborate on a novel,” or “Jack’s (John Galsworthy’s) book
is ‘excellent’” (111). JC’s generosity to his friends influenced his
judgement of their literary abilities.
[Willard, Grace]
“Conrad, the Man.” New York Evening Post Literary Review, 9 August
1924: 952. [Ray, ed., 43–48]
Wells asks Bennett to visit him because “something has arisen that might
enable you to be of very great service to the Conrads” (69; 26 November
1901). Wells later describes JC’s financial difficulties to Bennett: “the
Conrads are under an upset hay cart as usual, and God knows what is to
be done. J. C. ought to be administered by trustees” (107; 29 March 1904).
Wisehart, M. K.
“Joseph Conrad Described by Jo Davidson.” Sun (New York), 2
March 1919. [Ray, ed., 149–52]
[Davidson1 tells Wisehart of his visit to JC in 1914.] JC told Davidson
that he found his models for characters in The Secret Agent by sitting in
restaurants in Greek Street, Dean Street, or Soho Square, where he
watched the types, but did not talk to them. Davidson felt that Under
Western Eyes was the novel that meant most to him. JC thought it was
“more difficult” to write in French: “English is so plastic – you can do
anything with it!”
He was not distraught by the war, and did not talk excitedly about it.
He could not say which was the best American book he had read in the
previous year, for he had read so few. His room was full of special
remedies for imaginary ills. There were three maids, but he would eat
only his wife’s cooking.
Woolf, Virginia
The Diary of Virginia Woolf: Volume V: 1936–41, ed. Anne Olivier
Bell. London: Hogarth Press, 1984, 258.
“Hugh [Walpole] told us the story of the Conrads, told it very well; about
C. sizing up the sod. masseur at tea; withdrawing, shrieking; & Miss
Hallow[e]s2 & Jessie, who wouldnt [sic] ask Miss Hallow[e]s for the salt;
& C. shut up alone with her; & Jessie growing fat on the sofa with her
bad leg” [entry for 19 January 1940].
JC was far beyond the reach of hostesses, and for news of him one had
to rely on casual visitors who reported that he had “the most perfect
manners, the brightest eyes, and spoke English with a strong foreign
accent” (223).
Zagórska, Aniela
INDEX
Abbott, Lawrence F., 1 Baudelaire, Charles, 66, 77
Adams, Elbridge L., 1–2, 43, 173 Bax, Arnold, 79
Addison, Joseph, 103 Beauvoir, Simone de, 85
Adelaide, 3, 48, 138, 139 Beckson, Karl, 147
Adeler, Max, 108 Beddgelert Pass (Wales), 164
Albéniz, Isaac, 79 Beer, Thomas, 15, 85, 141
Alcorta, Gloria, 2–3 Beerbohm, Max, 131, 136, 143
Aldington, 47, 106 Béhaine, René, 45
Allen, Vio, 3–4 Bell, Anne Olivier, 124, 171
Alma-Tadema, Laurence, 148 Belloc, Hilaire, 52
Alvar, Madame: see Harding, Louisa Bennett, Arnold, 4, 15–18, 22, 45,
Amazon (river), 158 50, 55–56, 58, 62, 68, 73, 80, 87,
Anderson, Jane, 40, 61 123, 133, 145–46, 153, 157, 161,
Anderson, Percy, 67 166, 170–71
Angola, 111 Bennett, James Gordon, 27
Annand, James, 70 Bennett, Sanford, 142
Archer, William, 143 Benrimo, J. Harry, 75
Arizona, 40 Beresford, J. D., 52
Arnold, Fred, 12 Berners, Lord Gerald, 79
Arras, 45, 153 Berridge, Anthony, 153
Ashford, 24 Berridge, Jesse, 153
Atherton, Gertrude, 13, 25, 27, 146 Bester, Alfred, 18
Aubry, Jean: see Jean-Aubry Bible, 77, 102
Auckland, 138 Biliński, Leon, 17
Austen, Jane, 167 Biliński, Marian, 17
Austin, Mary, 13–15 Binyon, Laurence, 15
Australia, 3, 96, 138, 159, 163 Bishopsbourne, 14, 31, 49, 85, 156
Austria, 17 Bizet, Georges, 48, 83
Blanche, Jacques-Émile, 18
Bagenal, Barbara, 53 Bliss, (Sir) Arthur, 79
Bagenal, Nicholas, 53 Bobrowski, Tadeusz, 37
Baker, (Sir) Herbert, 85 Bojarski, Edmund A., 18–19, 99–
Balfour, Arthur James, 119 100
Balzac, Honoré de, 6, 33, 48, 77, Bombay, 27, 50
138 Bone, David, 17, 19–21, 83, 108,
Bangkok, 156 120
Banks, Walter, 143 Bone, Gertrude, 73
Barker, Dudley, 15 Bone, James, 17
Barrès, Maurice, 57, 78 Bone, Muirhead, 17, 19–21, 37, 52,
Barrie, J. M., 123, 140, 155 73, 120, 173
Barron, Joseph, 50 Boston, 2, 5–6, 9, 22
175
Glasgow Evening News, 120 New York Evening Post, 10, 24,
Glasgow Herald, 121 107–08, 124
Globe, 91 New York Evening Post Literary
Graphic, 23 Review, 169–70
Harper’s Weekly, 26, 28 New York Herald, 8, 11, 27, 51
Hearst’s Magazine, 51 New York Herald and New York
Hindustan Review, 100 Tribune, 97
Hobbies, 25 New York Herald Tribune, 128
Holiday, 18 New York Herald, New York
Illustrated London News, 140 Tribune Magazine, 59
John O’London’s, 122 New York Morning Telegraph, 88–
John O’London’s Weekly, 5 89
Joseph Conrad Today, 30, 54 New York Times, 6, 8–11, 22, 77,
Journal of the Joseph Conrad Society, 155
7, 65, 120 New York Tribune, 10, 64, 128,
Kipling Journal, 18 144
Kraj, 73, 92 New York Tribune Magazine, 59
Kurier Polski, 12 North American Review, 26
L’Essor: Revue du Cercle Littéraire Notes & Queries, 44, 58, 117
de Port-Louis, 105 Nottingham Journal, 131
Listener, 93 Nouvelle Revue Française, 2, 56–57,
Literary Digest, 100 87, 160
London Mercury, 91 Outlook, 1, 45, 127, 153
Manchester Guardian, 17 Petit Méridional, 139
Manchester Guardian Weekly, 21 Pictorial Review, 14
Mariner’s Mirror, 31 Polish American Studies, 18
Mentor, 7, 25 Polish Review, 88
Mercure de France, 33–34 Queen, 149
Messager Polonais, 173 Radical (Port-Louis), 105
Metropolitan Magazine, 78 Review of English Literature, 3
Modern Language Review, 68, 162 Review of English Studies, 63
Modern Philology, 139 Review of Reviews, 105
Morning Leader, 157 Revue Hebdomadaire, 101
Morning Post, 52, 120 Ruch Literacki, 99
Munsey’s Magazine, 51 Saturday Review, 39, 54, 61, 67
Nash’s Magazine, 97 Saturday Review of Literature, 15,
Nation, 5, 158 20, 107, 109–10
Nation & Athenaeum, 55, 111 Semaine Littéraire, 34
Nautical Magazine, 138, 144 Singapore Free Press, 28
New Age, 16 Spectator, 41
New Republic, 90 Sphere, 139
New Review, 35, 142 St. Stephen’s Review, 36
New Statesman, 36, 93 Stockport Advertiser, 142
New Witness, 125 Strand Magazine, 155
185