The protagonist in our story is Flora de Barral, who lost her mother at a tender age and was deprived of her father in her adulthood when he was sent to prison due to debts. The Phain couple was the ray of sunshine that set in the darkness that prevailed in her monotonous and emotionally deprived life. These two people stood by her side until her sister Mrs. Phain's brother appeared in her life and the situation changed.

Conrad, through the character of Flora, presents every woman who is forced to endure the denial and admonition of those who want to deprive her of her voice and dignity. Our narrator is Marlow, who, as an observer, sheds light on every dark aspect of the events.

This is a book that caught my attention as I love social novels that focus on the in-depth analysis of the psychological fluctuations of the characters in the story.

The central theme of the novel is the reflection that people's actions have on our lives and how they affect the development and turning point of events. Does our fate always lead us to safe conditions?

Find out and have a good read.

Many of Joseph Conrad’s novels explore the theme of loneliness. The hero is often isolated by chance circumstances and his own actions, left to struggle for some form of redemption. In Chance, the isolated figure is a woman, and this is the only full-length novel by Conrad to have a female character at its centre. Appropriately, it is in part a novel about the position of women, and Conrad manages to give us a glimpse of the predicament of women in his society.

The heroine, Flora de Barral, is introduced to us by Marlow, the narrator of several Conrad stories. Flora’s father, a businessman, falls into disgrace after corruptly playing the markets and is sent to prison. His disgrace affects the unlucky Flora, who is spitefully attacked by her disappointed governess and believes she is unlovable.

Flora’s situation is not helped by living with her cousins who treat her badly. She is finally taken under the wing of the Fynes, a strait-laced couple with feminist ideals. Mrs Fyne supports Flora until she elopes with her brother, Captain Anthony. However, the angry Fynes make negative remarks about Flora, convincing Anthony that she does not love him.

Flora soon discovers that even the crew do not like her, and her position is complicated by her father’s resentment. Finally, de Barral tries to poison Anthony, but is seen by Powell, a young officer who has become fond of Flora. Powell warns Anthony, who decides to release Flora from her attachment. However, Flora makes it clear that she does not want to leave. De Barral drinks the poison instead, and the couple are free.

In a strange coda, we learn that Anthony dies six years later when his ship is sunk. However, the spell has been broken, and Flora has finally found that she is capable of being loved. At the end, Marlow gently nudges her towards the ardent Powell.

Conrad was influenced by the books of Charles Dickens, and Chance contains elements that might have come from a Dickens novel. Like Dickens, Conrad portrays children at the mercy of bad parents. Anthony and Mrs Fyne were both brought up by a cruel father, and Flora’s father is similar to Mr Dorrit in Little Dorrit.

The title Chance is something of a misnomer, as chance does not play a greater role in this book than in any other. Conrad may have emphasized chance because it was a fashionable notion at the time. Chance was a surprise bestseller, although it is not one of Conrad’s best novels. The semi-happy ending was added to sell books, but Conrad cannot resist taking it away from us in part.

The book also includes a discussion of ‘the woman issue’, which is only a partial success. Conrad was not the best person to discuss women’s issues, and many of his works have few female characters. However, his portrayal of women had improved over the course of his writing.

Marlow makes frequent and crude generalizations about women, some of which are bordering on misogyny. Conrad tries to temper these outbursts with the protests of the anonymous listener, but there is no serious attempt to present a different opinion. The Fynes are presented as feminists, but they are not likeable characters, and Conrad seems ambivalent about them.

In conclusion, Chance is an unsatisfactory novel in some respects. The first chapter seems out of place, and the ending is melodramatic. There is too much cod-philosophizing, and Marlow’s narration has flaws. However, it is a novel that improves with each reading, with complex characterizations and a serious attempt to present the problems of women and marriage. It is a pity that Chance was the novel that finally brought Conrad the sales he deserved, rather than one of his better works.

The Best™

Conrad is a literary figure who is highly likely to regain popularity. Orwell once made a rather interesting observation when he said, "Conrad is pretty certain to come back into favor. One of the surest signs of his genius is that women dislike his books." This statement is quite thought-provoking. It implies that Conrad's works possess a certain quality or aspect that may not immediately appeal to women. However, this very characteristic could potentially be a mark of his genius. Perhaps his writing delves into complex and profound themes that are not easily accessible or understood by all. It could also suggest that his portrayal of characters and situations is not in line with what women might expect or prefer. Nevertheless, regardless of the reason for women's dislike, it seems that Conrad's literary talent is undeniable. As time passes, it is likely that his works will be重新evaluated and appreciated for their true worth.

Once again, I embarked on this journey with a good start.

However, it didn't take long for it to become extremely boring.

I'm really not certain if I'll be able to finish this.

I'm sure that by not continuing, I'll miss out on a few nice paragraphs and interesting observations made by Marlow.

But on the other hand, I'll also save a great deal of time.

I can skip a lot of the over-elaborate narration of the rather melodramatic plot twists.

It's a bit of a dilemma.

Part of me wants to push through and see what else lies ahead, while the other part just wants to move on to something more engaging.

I guess only time will tell which way I'll go.

For now, I'll just have to keep thinking about it.

Conrad's narration-within-narration technique is indeed a modernist innovation.

However, it is also a rather cumbersome one, and not just for copy editors. In the Oxford World's Classics edition that I read, I noticed more than one dropped quotation mark.

While this method is beneficial for depicting multiple psychologies, it also deliberately slows down the narrative.

Frequently, it raises questions about the actual omniscience of each particular narrator.

For example, the "I" of the frame story, the quoted storytellers Marlow, and Marlow's recent confidante Powell.

When you really think about it, it makes you wonder just how all-knowing they can be.

Ultimately, I would say that this technique is as worthwhile as it is sluggish.

But boy, can it get really sluggish at times.

I didn't actually finish this book as I found it too difficult.

There are multiple narrators, which makes it quite confusing. It's hard to keep track of who is saying what at times.

Moreover, the story seems rather boring. There isn't enough excitement or action to hold my attention.

I often found myself losing interest and having to force myself to read on.

The whole experience of reading this book has been a struggle. I just couldn't get into it like I do with other books.

Maybe if the book had been written in a more straightforward way, with a single narrator and a more engaging plot, I would have been able to finish it. But as it is, I had to give up.

I hope that future books I pick up will be more to my liking and not pose such challenges.

I think the fact that this was a commercial success whereas the Great Reading Public ignored Lord Jim says a lot about the taste of the early 20th century.

I'm reading through Conrad, chronologically, and this particular work was such a disappointment.

If this had been my introduction to Conrad, I'd have read no further.

The absurdity of the narrator device intrudes constantly, making it difficult to fully engage with the story.

Flora is just too unlucky to be credible, which detracts from the overall believability of the narrative.

Moreover, the scenes at sea may just as well have been in a London hotel for all the atmosphere created.

There was a distinct lack of the sense of the vastness and danger that one would expect from a maritime setting.

However, I did like the intrusive dog.

It added a touch of realism and a bit of lightheartedness to an otherwise rather lackluster tale.

Overall, while this work may have been a commercial success, it fails to live up to the high standards set by Conrad's other works.

"Going to a place of exile is nothing; but coming back from there is truly terrifying..."

This quote by Pavese holds a profound truth. When we embark on a journey to an unknown or difficult place, it may seem like a challenging but manageable experience. However, the return journey can often be far more arduous and filled with unexpected emotions.

The place of exile may have changed us in ways we didn't anticipate. We may have faced hardships, made sacrifices, and learned valuable lessons. But when we return to our familiar surroundings, we are confronted with the reality of how much we have changed and how different things seem.

The people we left behind may have moved on, and we may struggle to fit back into the lives we once had. The memories of our time in exile may haunt us, and we may find it difficult to let go and move forward.

Nevertheless, it is through this process of returning that we have the opportunity to grow and heal. We can use our experiences to reevaluate our lives, make positive changes, and find a new sense of purpose.

So, while the return from exile may be terrifying, it can also be a catalyst for transformation and renewal.

Bringing an in-law on a voyage is more cursed than seventy Jonahs!

This statement might seem quite extreme at first glance, but for many people, it holds a certain degree of truth. In-laws can sometimes bring unexpected challenges and tensions to a voyage. Their presence might disrupt the planned itinerary or cause conflicts within the group. Different personalities and expectations can clash, leading to uncomfortable situations. It's not that in-laws are bad people, but the dynamics of being in a confined space with them for an extended period can be difficult to manage. Just like Jonah, who was swallowed by a whale, bringing an in-law on a voyage might feel like being in a similar predicament. However, it's important to note that every situation is unique, and some people might have a great time with their in-laws on a voyage. It all depends on the individuals involved and how well they can communicate and adapt to each other's needs.

**Title: An In-depth Analysis of Joseph Conrad's "Chance"**

Let's begin with a necessary introduction for understanding both Conrad's aesthetics and "Chance" specifically. Few seem to recognize the significant role Schopenhauer's philosophy played in shaping the thoughts and consequently the works of great Modernist writers at the start of the 20th century. Conrad, Hardy, Mann, and Tolstoy, among others, were influenced by the German philosopher's thought, incorporating his pessimistic view of humanity into their myth-making. The concept of the will as a determining principle, which subordinates reason to its needs ("a wretched servant of the will"), and the assertion that we don't live as "freely chosen" but based on basic physical needs like fear, hunger, and especially sexuality, are fundamental pillars of his thought. The inescapable conclusion is that the world can never be known except through the phenomena our experience offers, and thus the free and conscious individual according to the dogmas of Christianity and the Enlightenment is an illusion, hiding what we truly are. We are already firmly in the world Conrad created.

Since the will is a purposeful activity, even if not necessarily conscious, given that it is subject to our animal needs as we said, it often comes into dynamic opposition with the will of other people who are motivated by similar impulses, as well as with an even more unpredictable factor, an impersonal force that seems to nullify the significance of human action: chance. And this, one could say, is the central idea of the intertwined narrative, which I will return to later. Obviously, a work of fiction is much more than its enclosed ideas and themes, as it is a work of imagination, with characters, plot, and a particular narrative style that makes it successful or not, regardless of what it "wants to say." The fact that "Chance" is considered Conrad's most commercially successful novel is of particular interest. It doesn't take place in the author's beloved seaside environment and isn't a "nautical adventure," but rather a kind of sensory story, at least at first.

The book, in an excellent translation by M. Papantonopoulos, is divided into two parts (The Resolute, The Rider). Flora de Barral and Captain Anthony are the protagonists, and the work describes their relationship from the initial stages of acquaintance to a specific point in time. The interest here lies in the way the author has structured the text, as the reins of the narration have been taken up by an anonymous man, a friend of Marlow (known to us from other works of Conrad, such as "Heart of Darkness"). The anonymous man relays large excerpts of text from both Marlow and another man, Pavel, the second mate on the Ferndale (the ship on which Anthony is the captain), which makes him an essential witness to everything that happens during the narration. And this alone, the confused choice of more than one narrator, where one gives way to the other, causes confusion for the unsuspecting reader who expects a straightforward romantic story. Conrad's modernism disrupts the consensus from the start, forcing the reader to constantly look askance at what is being said, not allowing him to passively submit to the narration of events. The alternating narrative layers continuously bring to the fore the subjective perspective of the narrators, especially of course the central narrator Marlow, who is as known a mouthpiece of the author himself.

Conrad's multi-faceted narrative game has a clear purpose but a debatable result. His intention is to transform what is otherwise a simple story of the encounter and romantic relationship of an unfortunate girl with a horseman-naval officer who appears as her savior into a work of art, where the characters are described, personified, and gain depth through the multi-voiced indirect narration – primarily of Marlow, of course, who, besides his personal experience, interprets the intentions, motives, and actions of the others involved in his particular way. For example, he constantly reminds the anonymous narrator of the simplicity of some characters (such as the short Fyne and his feminist wife, friends of the young Flora, but also of the young and inexperienced Pavel) in contrast, obviously, to his own. The author, through Marlow, continuously subsumes the specific into the general, philosophizes, argues mainly with himself (since no one can disprove him), and analyzes feverishly, meticulously, and in an overly analytical way movements, presences, characters, opinions, feelings, and so on. Often the narrator's way is absolute, intrusive, and at times irritatingly omniscient, especially when he refers to the female sex in a derogatory way (female characters were never Conrad's forte), not accepting contradiction, sometimes ironic and from a lofty position regarding the motives and intentions of his fellow humans. Elsewhere, however, he appears approachable, taking a more detached but understanding position towards the subjects of his observation.

And here perhaps the patient and careful reader may detect some inaccuracy in the narrative style, which seems somewhat obsessive and self-referential, that is, it sometimes gives the impression that with a pretentious plot, the author enjoys listening (writing) to himself analyze, classify, and delve into depths, extensions, and intensities. As a declared lover of Conrad, I had no problem submitting to this kind of somewhat showy manipulation, as at its best it digs deep and unhindered into the human condition. On the other hand, I will also understand those who found the book tiring at times, trying to be constantly snatched up by the raft of the plot. Perhaps this is also the main drawback of "Chance": the fact that ultimately, let's face it, in comparison to the great moments of the author ("Heart of Darkness," "Nostromo," "Under Western Eyes," "Lord Jim"), in this book the story being told is rather weak. It is not so much due to the fact that it belongs to the romantic genre or that at some moments it touches on the melodramatic with some ease, especially towards the end (Pavel as a deus ex machina, the father's suicide, and the definitive liberation of the daughter). Discoveries of this kind can also be found in other books of his or in equally important writers who are admittedly not distinguished for their soaring plots, and are forgivable. I am mainly focusing on the fact that Conrad seems to stylistically overcompensate for what is lacking thematically. And while this is acceptable since the narrative style transforms the theme, the ideas, into art, opening up the everyday, it is equally true that the form requires a content in order not to remain an exercise in style, leading the edifice that should be the work of art into structural imbalance.

But what are the themes of the work and what exactly was the author trying to say in this novel? Firstly, the title is clear, even if it can be translated as "chance," "opportunity," or "probability." In the context of Schopenhauer's pessimistic view, Conrad oscillates between the random events that occur in the lives of his heroes and how they respond to them, but also the inescapable theme of loneliness as a constant human condition. This implies that whenever the heroes of his books are faced with a change that brings them into the proximity of other people (romantic, friendly relationship), it is certain that they will pay the high price for their transgression. Conrad did not believe in social change, human progress, and all those things that we as descendants of the Enlightenment consider givens (humanism as a metaphysical substitute for the Christian faith), while he was convinced of the inevitability of loneliness. It is by no means accidental that his constant narrator, Marlow, in both "Chance" and "Heart of Darkness" remains the detached witness, the indirectly involved, the observer who examines everything and everyone through the prism of this view, almost always with a slight irony, as he is suspicious of the delicate balance, the fine line that connects the view of the world, the Epicurean "live unnoticed," and the price that participation in the human drama, in love, represents. And of course, the sea is the constant motif of the author, as his moral constant, even if unstable as a fluid element. Life at sea is the only one worth mentioning since the sea intervenes between this and the shore (as the source of evils), offering, as Marlow characteristically mentions in the book, the possibility of isolation and introspection, that is, the only outings that a person can have during his life.

In "Chance," the Conradian rule seems to be reversed, at least partially. If Marlow remains the same throughout, chance seems to favor the protagonists at the end, who seem to be led through some scripted conveniences, as I said earlier, to a happy ending. The rider Anthony will save Lady Flora by intervening in the upheavals, turning chance into an opportunity. Even when he himself leaves the book, the lady will not remain at the mercy of... her chance, of which she was rather a passive recipient. Another man-savior will appear, and this one will be more age-appropriate, to nurture her at the end of the work. It is clear here that this romantic, passive version of the female lover who awaits to be saved by some man who replaces the Father-Lord, and who is motivated first and foremost by the sense of duty that commands sacrifice, echoes past views, which the reader will of course always judge in relation to the context of their era and embedded in the text – in short, to the extent that they serve the coherence of the work and correspond to the character of the protagonists and not whether they agree with our contemporary view.

In conclusion, let me repeat the obvious: "Chance" may be Conrad's most commercially successful novel, but it does not rank among his best. Nevertheless, it has all those special characteristics that make it a classic. If not thematically, certainly stylistically. The emphasis on the fine nuances of the behavior of the protagonists, the depth of thought, the philosophical nuances, and the masterful, multi-faceted narration of the author succeed in creating in the contemporary reader what H. Bloom called "extensions of the self" that we experience in the form of enjoyment. And "Chance" remains in the end an enjoyable book.

Finished on 31st January 2023. It's a good read, three stars. I liked it. It was a Kindle library loaner. I have read more than a half dozen books from Conrad and enjoyed each one, some more than others.

I have noticed themes with Conrad that I have seen in others. And here, with the realization of a new twist. One I call "the mark of zero" and I have seen that previously in a story where the guy has withdrawn to the island. Sorry, I forget the title. And in the last one, and I forget that title too. There are variations on that mark-zero theme. And here is another tangent, to the sea, a kind of withdrawal.

There's more I could say if I looked at my highlights. The themes and ideas are not overly demanding to be seen. It's just something I notice. And what was the other? Well, I'd hazard that Conrad had read some of the ideas likely present at the time, to do with character revealed in a person's face, say their chin, their nose. And one highlight here suggests he thinks the idea is a bit lame, a bit of a joke. Imagine what he'd think of today? Another idea is "in the air", as in ideas, fashionable or not, another way of considering things. The curious narration is a kind of story telling from narrators. "More on that later" is Conrad's way of slipping behind poetic license, as in how did he/she (do I have all my pronouns present?) know that. In spades here too is the idea of one character having a love jones for another character and that "love" influencing all to the detriment of all.

Read the Vietnamese translation of Anh Hoa.

It is worthy for us to read, every sentence, every paragraph, every page.

This translation offers a unique perspective and allows us to explore the story of Anh Hoa in a different language.

By reading the Vietnamese version, we can gain a deeper understanding of the cultural context and the nuances that might have been lost in the original English.

Each word and phrase in the translation has been carefully chosen to convey the meaning as accurately as possible.

As we read through the sentences, we can imagine the scenes and characters in our minds, just as we would when reading the original.

The translation serves as a bridge, connecting us to the world of Anh Hoa and enabling us to appreciate the story from a new angle.

Whether we are familiar with the English version or not, reading the Vietnamese translation can be a rewarding experience.