Quest of the Spirit: From Suffering to Acceptance

6.1 Courage & Calm over Chaos: Conrad's Jonah

                                              Conrad's Nigger of the Narcissus:  A Jonah in Disguise

         In times of war and destruction, courage and calm are essential, particularly in view of what is occurring in our world today. In the Scripture, Jonah showed both courage and calm which led to his redemption. "But the Lord sent out a great wind into the sea, and there was a mighty tempest in the sea, so that the ship was likely to be broken. The then mariners were afraid and cried every man to his god, and threw their wares into the sea, to lighten the vessel. Now Jonah was gone down into the sides of the ship, and lay fast asleep. The shipmaster went to him, saying, 'What do you mean? O sleeper? Arise, call upon your God, so that we will not perish.' And they said to each other, 'Come and let us cast lots, so that we may know why this evil is upon us.' Thus, they cast lots, and the lot fell upon Jonah. So they cast him into the sea; and the waters ceased from their raging." The account from the Old Testament book of Jonah bears a strong resemblance to Joseph Conrad's Nigger of the Narcissus. Conrad too begins his tragic tale of the sea with images of chaos, anger and frustration, as the desperate crew also wonders what to do with fellow mariner named James Wait. The author commences his narrative with a description of the Narcissus as its mates await their departure from Bombay. The author contrasts what he calls the "peace of the East with the petulant sailors as they argue over prices of materials and merchandise aboard the ships." In the author's words, "The resplendent and be-starred peace of the East was torn into squalid tatters by howls of rage and shrieks of lament raised over sums ranging from five annas to half a rupee; and every soul afloat in Bombay Harbor became aware that the new hands were joining the Narcissus" (Conrad 18). To enhance the degree of verisimilitude, Conrad combines numerous seafaring expressions with descriptions of nautical equipment and shipping terminology. In essence, he utilizes details to enhance the credibility of the story, as did Fielding and Defoe in the early eighteenth century. The following dialogue provides a typical example of his use of realistic detail: "Here, sonny, take that bunk! . . . Don't you do it! . . . What's your last ship? . . . I know her . . . Three years ago, in Puget Sound . . . This here berth leaks, I tell you! . . . Come on; give us a chance to swing that chest! . . . Did you bring a bottle, any of you shore toffs? . . . Give us a bit of 'baccy . . . I know her; her skipper drank himself to death . . . He was a dandy boy! . . . Liked his lotion inside, he did!" (19). Conrad's physical description of the sailors furthermore contributes to the sense of realism: "Men in black jackets and stand-up collars, mixed with men bare-footed, bare-armed, with colored shirts open on hairy chest, pushed against one another in the middle of the forecastle. The group swayed, reeled, turning upon itself with the motion of a scrimmage, in a haze of tobacco smoke. All were speaking together, swearing at every second word" (19). Here Conrad contrasts the rough exterior of the sailors with their sensitivity over the welfare of a dying fellow sailor James Wait. In the Old Testament account, Jonah was different from the other members of the crew because he was Jewish. Racism in his case further contributed to the mariners' sense of fear and resentment. In contrast, Conrad's scapegoat is of African descent, and as with Jonah, the sailors' prejudice and superstition toward him causes them considerable anxiety and consternation. Indeed, Wait's itself name itself suggests the most tragic aspect of the sailors' ordeal in trying to determine what to do with him. As each of the shipmates attempts to decide whether he should condemn or justify the sick man, their inner tension intensifies, and they vacillate from an initial hatred and indifference to one of guilt and regret at Wait's death (174-176). At one point in the voyage, the narrator says, "And we hated James Wait. We could not get rid of the monstrous suspicion that this astounding black-man was shamming sick, had been malingering heartlessly in the face of our toil, of our scorn, of our patience—and now was malingering in the face of our devotion—in the face of death. Our vague and imperfect morality rose with disgust at his unmanly lie" 90). In this context, Wait mirrors the guilt, cruelty, and indifference which the sailors must recognize within themselves, as well as in the victim. From one perspective, James Wait serves as the archetypal scapegoat that tragically teaches through his death. Paradoxically, from Wait's cold and lifeless corpse, the sailors learn to transcend their immaturity, and commence the phase of emotional rebirth. Speaking for the author, the narrator associates Wait with the destiny of the crew from the time he first steps aboard the Narcissus. Wait tells the crew as he first arrives, "I belong to the ship." Wait's influence was proves pervasive. The narrator says, "He influenced the moral tone of our world as though he had it in his power to distribute honors, treasures, or pain; and he could give us nothing but his contempt." Here is Conrad's irony, for as Wait's shrank more each day, his moral and spiritual influence disproportionately grew (157). From another perspective, the sailors fear that Wait's presence brings them grief, and they choose to avoid him. Initially, they resent his inability to perform his share of the duties; however, their resentment transforms into sorrow and uncertainty because they cannot discern whether he is actually sick or merely manipulating them. The narrator explains, "Men stood around very still and with exasperated eyes. It was just what they had expected, and hated to hear, that idea of a stalking death, thrust at them many times a day like a boast and like a menace by this obnoxious nigger" (52). Conrad also suggests that his appearance reveals the degree of his suffering, a foreshadowing for both the narrator and the crew. According to the narrator, "He hold his head up in the glare of the lamp—a head vigorously modeled into deep shadows and shining lights—a head powerful and misshapen with a tormented and flattened face—a face pathetic and brutal: the tragic, the mysterious, the repulsive mask of a nigger's soul" (32). The author uses contrast to show how the laughter and jollity and the crew suddenly changes to sadness and thoughts of death when James Wait emerges from his room. Initially, Conrad says, "At some opinion of dirty Knowles, delivered with an air of supernatural cunning, a ripple of laughter ran along, rose like a wave, burst with a startling roar. They stamped with both feet; they turned their shouting faces to the sky; many, spluttering, slapped their thighs; while one or two, bent double, gasped, hugging with both arms like men in pain." Upon Wait's entrance, however, the tone quickly changes. According to the narrator, Donkin became "grave"; the washer-man grew "more crestfallen than an exposed backslider"; the carpenter quickly walked away; and the sail-maker, giving up his story, "began to puff at his pipe with somber determination." Wait's deathly appearance even "seemed to hasten the retreat of departing light by fleeing before our nigger; a black mist emanated from him; a subtle and dismal influence; a something cold and gloomy that floated out and settled on all the faces like a mourning well. The circle broke up." In essence, even Nature withdrew from Wait's repulsive image. As long as Wait remains aboard the Narcissus, the ship struggles against a cruel Nature "that drove to and fro in the unceasing endeavor to fight her way through the invisible violence of the winds" as "she pitched headlong into dark smooth hollows, . . . struggled upwards over the snowy ridges of great running seas . . . [and] rolled, restless, from side to side, like a thing in pain." (66).The watch on deck observed "dismally the high and merciless seas boarding the ship time after time in unappeasable fury' as the crew "turned out stiff to face the redeeming and ruthless exactions of their glorious and obscure fate" (67). Conrad uses these storms at sea to compare with the inner conflict occurring in the crew. For instance, he unites the two themes in the following passage: "There was no sleep on board that night. Most seamen remember in their life one or two such nights of a culminating gale. Nothing seems left of the whole universe but darkness, clamor, fury—and the ship. And like the last vestige of a shattered creation she drifts, bearing an anguished remnant of sinful mankind, through the distress, tumult, and pain of an avenging terror" (71). In this way, Conrad also unites the particular with universal to enhance his tone of loss and isolation.