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  • Open Daily: 10am - 10pm
    Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm

    3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
    612-822-4611

Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm
3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611
Tales of Unrest

Tales of Unrest

Conrad, Joseph

Paperback

Classic Fiction

ISBN10: 1548230499
ISBN13: 9781548230494
Publisher: Createspace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: Jun 21 2017
Pages: 108
Weight: 0.34
Height: 0.22 Width: 6.00 Depth: 9.00
Language: English
Tales of Unrest is a collection of short stories by Joseph Conrad originally published in 1898. Four of the five stories had been published previously in various magazines. This was the first published collection of any of Conrad's stories. Of the five stories in this volume, The Lagoon, the last in order, is the earliest in date. It is the first short story I ever wrote and marks, in a manner of speaking, the end of my first phase, the Malayan phase with its special subject and its verbal suggestions. Conceived in the same mood which produced Almayer's Folly and An Outcast of the Islands, it is told in the same breath (with what was left of it, that is, after the end of An Outcast), seen with the same vision, rendered in the same method-if such a thing as method did exist then in my conscious relation to this new adventure of writing for print. I doubt it very much. One does one's work first and theorises about it afterwards. It is a very amusing and egotistical occupation of no use whatever to any one and just as likely as not to lead to false conclusions. Anybody can see that between the last paragraph of An Outcast and the first of The Lagoon there has been no change of pen, figuratively speaking. It happened also to be literally true. It was the same pen: a common steel pen. Having been charged with a certain lack of emotional faculty I am glad to be able to say that on one occasion at least I did give way to a sentimental impulse. I thought the pen had been a good pen and that it had done enough for me, and so, with the idea of keeping it for a sort of memento on which I could look later with tender eyes, I put it into my waistcoat pocket. Afterwards it used to turn up in all sorts of places-at the bottom of small drawers, among my studs in cardboard boxes-till at last it fou

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