Contents 1. Introductory remarks 3 2. The structure of the short story 4 3. Narrative technique and description of Prince Roman 5 3. 1 Description of the happily married couple 5 3. 2 Prince Roman as an old man 6 3.
3 The Prince after his wife’s death 7 3. 3. 1 The funeral and the time after 7 3. 3. 2 The Prince during the uprising 9 3.
3. 3 “The supreme moment of his life” 11 4. The importance of visual perception and expression in the story 13 4. 1 The effect of visual perception on the reader 13 4. 2 Prince Roman and his visual perception 13 5.
Prince Roman as a story of character? 15 6. Prince Roman as a story of patriotism 17 6. 1 The Prince as a patriotic hero 17 6. 2 Biographical background and literary sources 19 6. 2.
1 Biographical background 19 6. 2. 2 Literary sources 20 7. Prince Roman as a “positive” hero 21 Bibliography 22 1.
Introductory remarks Joseph Conrad’s short story Prince Roman, which appeared in the United States of America as The Aristocrat, was first published in 1911 after Conrad had suffered from a “severe illness.” It is one of the few stories of Conrad to deal with Poland and hence with his own roots. In this paper the stress is laid on the figure of Prince Roman, the Polish aristocrat. But before turning towards a closer description of the protagonist and of the way, in which he is presented by the narrator in the second chapter of the paper, the structure of the story – mainly as regards the events around the hero – are discussed shortly. Consequently the importance of visual impressions, splitter in the impression the story makes on the reader and then on the protagonist itself, will be the main topic of a next chapter. Here, as in the preceding chapter, Werner Senn’s book Conrad’s narrative voice: stylistic aspects of his fiction is quoted, because he gives important information on the importance of visual perception and on Conrad’s frequently used stylistic devices. Since Prince Roman and the course of his life are the most important elements in the story, an examination of it in terms of “story of character” or “story of action” follows, which is based on Hans-Werner Ludwig’s Arbeitsbuch Romananalyse.
In the next chapter, however, these categories will be neglected in favour of a definition of Prince Roman as a story of patriotism. Going back to biographical and literary sources of the work, Adam Gillon and Robert Hodges will be quoted repeatedly, because both of them deal with the story and its background in more detail and focus on its patriotic roots. The story itself will be referred to as “PR” after quotations from the text. 2. The structure of the short story Embedded in a frame story which purports to be a conversation about patriotism and aristocracy approximately at the turn to the twentieth century we are acquainted with the figure of Prince Roman. The frame story is told by an unnamed first person narrator who participates in that conversation and soon gives the word to another first person narrator whose task it will be to present the noble Poles life – as we find out when he starts off with the words: “I don’t mean to say that I knew Prince Roman at that remote time” (PR, 30).
The narrator goes on depicting the prince’s happy life, which seems to be based on his very fortunate marriage with a beautiful woman. The narrator creates a too-good-to-be-true atmosphere only to break the spell by an episode of his own childhood, which is centred around the encounter with an old and ill Prince Roman. Then again he switches back into his former flow of narration describing the misfortune which suddenly befalls the prince and his family: the death of the young wife. After some time of suffering a new element enters their life. The prince decides to join the national rising of the Poles against Russian supremacy. Up to this point the whole story took approximately fifteen pages to be told, but more than two years of the prince’s life were covered and a “flashforward” of forty years is included.
In comparison to that, the chaos of war into which the protagonist throws himself is depicted in very much detail over six pages, while it only lasted for a few months in reality, as history proves. After the betrayal of Prince Roman’s true identity it takes the narrator about two pages to create suspense working towards “the supreme moment” (PR, 52) of the prince’s life. This crucial event is given in a way that the time to narrate it appears to be longer than the event itself. As if in a cycle the narrator returns to his youth’s episode, which is finished after this culminating point of the story. It is striking that in these last two pages (53-55) again a very long stretch of time is contained: the twenty-five years of Russian imprisonment and punishment and some years after the prince’s return to Poland. Apparently the implied author and also the real one wanted to stress especially the prince’s involvement and behaviour during the time of war and during the trial.
What becomes also obvious is that Prince Roman, around whom all the action is settled, is the protagonist or even hero of Joseph Conrad’s story. Insofar the title is not one that leads the reader up the garden path but is introduction and motto at the same time. 3. Narrative technique and description of Prince Roman 3. 1 Description of the happily married couple The first encounter we have with the prince is on page 30 to 31. There the first person narrator draws a brief outline of the social life of “his” hero.
The young aristocrat is married happily: “It was an ideal alliance form every point of view” (PR, 30). Since he works as “an officer in the Guards” (PR, 30) of the Russian tsar his social rank is also appropriate to his aristocratic descent. Everybody in the high society of St. Petersburg, where the couple apparently lives, feel the deep love that exists between them: “[They] were obviously wrapped up in each other” (PR, 31). All the information is at least second hand information the narrator himself only gathered some time after the events: “I don’t mean to say that I knew Prince Roman at that remote time” (PR, p.
30). He creates distance by this statement and by not showing any scene in particular but instead of that remains general and sums up opinions about the prince and his wife. It seems at first sight as if he only wanted to present historical information. But then one discovers a closer description of Roman, which again is distanced because the narrator only repeats what other people thought: “he was distinguished amongst his fellows by something reserved and reflective in his character” (PR, 31).
Being mentioned, these character traits will probably have an impact on the further course of the story. The narrator looses his distance when he draws our attention to the protagonist’s eyes: “but his glances… expressed absolute devotion” (PR, 31). It seems as if the passionate eyes had struck the narrator himself looking at the young prince. However that may be, Conrad – quoted by Werner Senn – often describes eyes, glances or faces to reveal a figure’s character: ” ‘in the features and character of a human face, the inner truth is foreshadowed for those who know how to look at their kind’ .” As Senn continues, the “eyes thus become an essential element in the make-up of any Con radian character.” So we can come to a first conclusion: Roman’s quiet appearance and his passionate soul might be a source of some conflict and causing problems.
The first person narrator of the prince’s story appears to be an omniscient who is able to tell events with some accuracy without having taken part in them. He creates a fairy-tale picture of a happy and emotional hero but – up to that point – does not exert his power of omniscience to enter the latter’s thoughts and display his character in this way. 3. 2 Prince Roman as an old man An even more striking passage when it comes to purely outward description is the following. In the “flashforward” on pages 31 to 35 the narrator tells an episode out of his own childhood, the essence of which is a surprise meeting with the aged prince. At first, however, Roman is only referred to as a mysterious guest.
That puts us into the “boy-narrator’s” position. We are not told more than what can possibly be within the child’s grasp: The boy and his little cousin are watching the nocturnal arrival of a dark sleigh. A mysterious atmosphere surrounds this event. Everything happens in darkness, servants are busying themselves with the guest who is not to be seen.
The first clue to his importance or high rank is the sleigh which is pulled by six horses. The second one is an excursion of the narrator remembering his childhood conception of princes as young, beautiful, rich, and happy. Now one can almost be sure that the mysterious guest is the prince who was before described as exactly that. When the child finally meets him “by chance”, the picture presented stands in a striking contrast to the “fairy-tale” before: “the guest by his side was a spare man, of average stature…
A few wisps of thin gray hair were brushed smoothly across the top of his bald head. His face, which must have been beautiful in its day, had preserved in age the harmonious simplicity of its lines. What amazed me was its even, almost deathlike pallor. He seemed to me to be prodigiously old.” (PR, 33/34) With this description the narrator stretches the narrative time so that it becomes longer than the narrated time. It is but for this technique that a very vivid picture of the old man is evoked in our heads.
Even though the old narrator filters his sensations as a boy by expressions such as “What amazed me” (PR, 34) or “He seemed to me” (PR, 34) this impression is put across. It was amazing for the boy to meet an old, thin, and pale man without the ability of hearing, who should be a prince but nevertheless lacking in the appropriate grand air about him. Instead of this he is called “average.” The colours or rather non-colours which characterise the aristocrat’s clothes and skin together with the nocturnal arrival let him appear more of a ghost than of a glamorous hero. And it is not only his looks which are so pale but also his “un ringing voice, a voice as colourless as the face itself” (PR, 34). He seems more dead than alive. Even his movements and gestures are portrayed as “slight” or “imperceptible” (PR, 34).
But his heart and mind, which peep through his “dark and still” (PR, 34) eyes and look at the boy with kindness, speak another language. This man has preserved affection and warmth in his heart, which makes him contrary to his outward appearance seem more alive than other people. The narrator, before returning to the actual chronological account of Prince Roman’s curriculum vitae, expresses his disillusionment: “It was shocking to discover a prince who was deaf, bald, meagre, and so prodigiously old.” (PR, 35). We are left with the discrepancy between the young and the old prince.
It indicates that his life obviously did not run as smoothly as a fairy-tale. At the very end of the short story the narrator returns to his reminiscence. After portraying the beneficent and active old man he states again his notion of this prince being not like a prince at all (cf. PR, 54).
Uncle and guest turn to leave and continue their conversation which was presumably interrupted by the surprising meeting. The last sentence of the story is an utterance of the prince, which left a strong impression on the boy: ” ‘I ask you because, you see, my daughter and my son-in-law don’t believe me to be a good judge of men. They think that I let myself be guided too much by mere sentiment.’ ” (PR, 55) This judgement however is uttered by a person whom the narrator disqualified before: “His daughter married splendidly to a Polish Austrian grand seigneur and, moving in the cosmopolitan sphere of the highest European aristocracy, lived mostly abroad in Nice and Vienna.” (PR, 53/54) Endowed with this knowledge and the picture of a highly moral, emotional but sensible prince one almost cannot but say “No!” to this statement and think that his daughter was not capable of judging her father at all because she obviously lacked all these qualities. Robert Hodges goes a bit further and enlarges the circle of people, who do not understand the prince: “This answer shows that the prince performs his good deeds…
out of motives… that… are criticised largely by people indifferent to the fate of Poland.” With these feelings and impressions we are left by the narrator. 3. 3 The Prince after his wife’s death 3. 3.
1 The funeral and the time after The reaction of the young husband is given in the text by: “the grief of the husband was terrible and… perfectly silent and dry-eyed” (PR, 36). This is a rather general statement and refers presumably to the prince’s psyche before the funeral because this scene is what follows. But as we learn later on, his psychological state does not change after the burial. The scene at the grave serves the narrator to illustrate it. He seems to be watching the widower standing at the vault having sent all the others away: “[w]hen the last stone was in position he uttered a groan, the first sound of pain which had escaped from him for days” (PR, 36).
Letting the reader participate in this very personal and intimate display of emotion the narrator makes him feel sympathy and able to identify with this poor young man. This is only a momentary glimpse into his heart because the prince hurries to be alone again and flees society. His grief drives him into complete apathy: “[his parents] could find nothing to rouse him with” (PR, 37). Commenting on Roman’s behaviour the narrator states that even if he, “making an effort” (PR, 37), joined his family he would only be there physically because “it was as if his heart and his mind had been buried in the family vault with the wife he had lost” (PR, 37). According to Werner Senn the “as if” in Conrad’s work is one of the expressions of estrangement which “translate the description of an internal state into an objective description” especially “when the narrator takes an external point of view in describing some internal state… that he cannot be sure about.” This very comparison reoccurs on the same page when the protagonist pursuing his only occupation – riding out alone – is depicted: “He rode looking straight ahead, seeing no one, as if the earth were empty and all mankind buried in that grave which had opened so suddenly in his path to swallow up his happiness.” (PR, 37) The double usage of a similar comparison conveys the impression that the prince’s soul and his capability of feeling for other people are dead in just the same way as his wife is.
Up to this point the prince only appeared as an object of visual scrutiny. His own thoughts have not yet been entered. But subsequent to the description of his “wanderings” and the sympathetic reaction of the peasants to it the narrator approaches the prince’s internal state: “What were men to him with their sorrows, joys, labours and passions from which she who had been all the world to him had been cut off so early?” (PR, 37/38) Only the landscape can rouse him somewhat because it holds the remembrances of happier days and because the prince knows it so well. The landscape is almost treated like a human being when the narrator calls it “an old friend” (PR, 38) of Roman’s. This slight shift of point of view naturally happens not completely without any ulterior motive. Describing on the same page a reptile-like shape of moving soldiers “eating its way slowly into the very heart of the land” (PR, 38) the narrator hints the motives for the prince’s joining the campaign which are expressed later on.
He is as much thrown out of his lethargy by his vision that he turns to the local innkeeper for information, an action which astounds the Jew very much “since it was well known that their young lord had no eyes for anything or anybody in his grief” (PR, 39). The Jew, an ardent Polish patriot, explains to him the significance of the rising. Moved by that and the strong impression the convoy has left with him, Roman resolves to send in his notice to the tsar without having talked it over with his father. That is probably because knowing that his father is loyal to the Russians, he would not approve of the notice.
It seems that the son does not want his spontaneous decision to be overthrown by reasonable discussions and therefore avoids them. To put it a bit stronger his courage and conviction at that point are not strong enough to resist any argument. In fact it seems as if the prince would want to leave it at the notice having “fallen back into the depths of his indifference” (PR, 41). It needs one more ride to become aware of his vocation: “He remembered that the day before he had seen a reptile-like convoy of soldiery, bristling with bayonets, crawling over the face of that land which was his. The woman he loved had been his, too. Death had robbed him of her.
Her loss had been to him a moral shock. It had opened his heart to a greater sorrow, his mind to a vaster thought, his eyes to all the past and to the existence of another love fraught with pain but as mysteriously imperative as that lost one to which he had entrusted his happiness.” (PR, 41) Here again we are confronted with the goings-on in his head. Yet, in spite of this new “absolute devotion” he is not able to tell his parents about it. The only person he confides in is the family’s stable master: “I go where something louder than my grief and yet something with a voice very like it calls me” (PR, 42). The stable master misinterpreting the prince’s intentions thinks that his lord would want to fight in an position appropriate to his high rank. But he has to learn that his master only wants to fight as a common soldier and “offer what is [his]…
to offer” (PR, 43), his life. As we can see the hero states his intentions and motives three times in direct speech, a fact which makes what he has in mind more convincing, authentic, and – by this triple emphasis – seem very important. The narrator also makes the prince say that he wants to leave as soon as possible and head for “the nearest party.” Doing this he underlines the haste, with which the decision and preparations are performed and which stands in a sharp contrast to the former tranquillity of the protagonist. 3.
3. 2 The Prince during the uprising The stable-master sends his own son with the prince to support him because he himself has grown too old to fight (cf. PR, 43). So they leave home to seek adventure and to save their country: “Thus humbly and in accord with the simplicity of the vision of duty he saw when death had removed the brilliant bandage of happiness from his eyes, did Prince Roman bring his offering to his country.” (PR, 44) Comparing the service in the Polish army to an “offering” makes one think of some kind of holy duty. It definitely evokes religious associations that justify leaving the family secretly in order to be of use for a holy cause. It also legitimates concealing his true identity in the eyes of the narrator, who is a Pole as well.
That is what he does and after Peter’s death he goes as far as to adopt his name. On page 45 it is said that he approaches the “main Polish army” disguised in “peasant clothes.” But in spite of this an officer recognises him, yet does not regard it as important and therefore passes the matter over. “Sergeant Peter” is quickly promoted – not at least because of his energy and strength of character: ” It was not the reckless courage of a desperate man; it was a self-possessed, as if conscientious, valour which nothing could dismay; a boundless but equable devotion, unaffected by time, by reverses, by the discouragement of endless retreats, by the bitterness of waning hopes and the horrors of pestilence added to the toils and perils of war.” (PR. 46) The narrator here obviously tries to defend his hero making him look even more heroic by enumerating the almost countless obstacles he is forced to face, but masters.
In his role as a soldier Prince Roman is not only courageous and useful as a tool of warfare but also popular with his comrades. It is due to his good example that “the number of desertions in the squadron in which he served was less than in any other” (PR, 47). Here he shows enigmatic qualities which he uses then to lead his squadron to the last fortress still held in Polish hands. Again the narrator feels obliged to explain this step claiming that they did not leave the army to “avoid captivity” (PR, 48), but to fight in the last battle. Immediately following this statement the narrator undertakes a short philosophic excursion to elucidate the moral grounds on which the prince’s actions are based: “This looks like mere fanaticism. But fanaticism is human.
Man has adored ferocious divinities. There is ferocity in every passion, even in love itself. The religion of undying hope resembles the mad cult of despair, of death, of annihilation. The difference lies in the moral motive springing from the secret needs and the unexpressed aspiration of the believers.” (PR, 48) In his opinion the hero masters to keep balance on the moral tightrope walk which is part of his being justly called a hero.
After this “digression” into more general human qualities we plunge into the heart of the actual story again and there overhear a conversation between the protagonist and our narrator’s grandfather. They promise mutually to inform their families in case of death or serious injury since there is a fifty percent chance for each of them to be the surviving part. Prince Roman, who up to that point did not seem extremely worried about the well-being and state of his parents and child, suddenly explains: “I was thinking of my people. They have no idea where I am” (PR, 48). Because the narrator chooses this part of the conversation to re-tell in direct speech he might have had in mind to exculpate the prince’s formerly indifferent behaviour towards his nearest relatives. The luck of war finally changes to the Russian side and the fortress is occupied.
In the course of the occupation the Polish defendants are made prisoners. “No one had recognised” (PR, 49) our hero and he is not hurt. By stressing this fact the betrayal of his identity, which “happens” a few lines later on is foreshadowed. Since a trial cannot be prevented the family S — do their best to bribe officials and finally succeed in rendering the judge in charge benevolent towards their son. Their efforts and the obstacles threatening a successful bribery are outlined on almost two pages which increases the expectations of the reader together with those of the parents on a satisfying solution for all sides.
3. 3. 3 “The supreme moment of his life” This is how the narrator calls the trial, the ultimate test of the prince’s character. But before it is opened we are bound to take a look at his mixed emotions since the narrator tries to comprehend what might go on in the accused’s head. Establishing a gloomy atmosphere, the courtroom is described as “those four sinister walls shutting out from him all the sights and sounds of liberty, all hopes of the future, all consoling illusions” (PR, 51). The adjective “sinister” is a word Conrad likes using to show “the perspective if not the definite point of view of a person other than the narrator”, in this case of Prince Roman.
Together with other “subjective” adjectives such as “immense” or “sombre” the one that occurs here serves the double purpose of a formal description and simultaneously of subjective evaluation and display of emotions: the walls appear to be personified evil. In the following the narrator asks three questions that might resemble the train of thoughts in Prince Roman’s head: “who can tell how much love of life there was in Prince Roman? How much remained in that sense of duty, revealed to him in sorrow? How much of his awakened love for his native country?” (PR, 51) They create suspense and evoke commiseration. Under these prerequisites the “show” begins. The prince displays no sign of emotion and resorts to “outward tranquillity” just as he did after his wife’s death. He puts on the mask of “profound indifference” (PR, 52) because he is of the opinion: “The details of his conduct could have no importance one way or other; with his thoughts these men had nothing to do” (PR, 52). Here Prince Roman’s thoughts are displayed almost unfiltered by the author.
The framed questions cannot tempt him; the possible questions of above – at least the last ones – he answers by his heroic deed: “In silence he reached for a pen and wrote on a sheet of paper he found under his hand: ‘I joined the national rising from conviction.’ He pushed the paper across the table.” (PR, 52) Letting the prince write down his testimony is another narrative device. It makes his conviction and determination to stand up for his creed seem even stronger and more dramatic as if he had only spoken or exclaimed the words. All in all it is remarkable that the narrator does only touch upon Prince Roman’s feelings and thoughts when it serves to catalyse the action or to create suspense. Outward description predominates throughout the whole story. Therefore we can never really understand the prince.
He “is little more than a shadowy figure” because his heart of hearts in never displayed. We can only guess and draw the conclusions the narrator wants us to draw but that does not explain completely why for example the father leaves his child alone to grow up almost as an orphan. It seems as if the prince was, after having been “enlightened”, not subject to ordinary human bonds and principles any longer but felt obliged to serve a higher goal. 4. The importance of visual perception and expression in the story 4. 1 The effect of visual perception on the reader The whole story conveys the impression that Joseph Conrad deliberately tried to focus the reader’s attention on visual perceptions.
This is first, however not too openly, shown in the introductory passage of the prince’s story. The fairy-tale-like happiness is described in the way contemporaries of the protagonist experienced it at the time. Roman’s comrades observe that he is a rather quiet person, whereas his eyes express passion. The prince himself was captured by the sight of the beauty of his bride. The tsar as well as the society of St. Petersburg look at the couple with affection: “society…
watched them with benevolent indulgence and an amused tenderness” (PR, 31). Then the narrator reports his impression of the aged prince which is based almost exclusively on visual perception and done very elaborately. This scene particularly forces one to concentrate on actions performed because the deaf prince cannot be spoken to but only understand written words. When he talks himself his voice is so colourless that it seems to be of no significance whatsoever.
After his wife’s death we again watch the prince in his sad wanderings. On one of these excursions we together with him see the “reptile” and we observe his reactions to the vision one of which is sending his notice to the Tsar. In the “supreme moment of his life” (PR, 52) the aristocrat is described purely externally whereby his actions are predominantly non-verbal. According to Senn this externalization is a means of “conveying the character’s inner life from a distance” and by reminding the “modern” reader of a film scene promotes tension. One could say that emotions and actions crucial to plot and character are presented mainly as visually perceptible. Theories and ideologies are naturally displayed by thoughts of the narrator and conversations of the prince with his father, the innkeeper, and the stable-master.
They do, however, not serve to catalyse the action but foreshadow or explain them afterwards. 4. 2 Prince Roman and his visual perception The prince’s reaction of “seeing no one” (PR, 37) after his wife’s death expresses his complete unawareness of and indifference towards other people and their feelings. He is not able to accept his changed life and therefore refuses to look at it and to see that it has not lost its meaning. As mentioned above the only consolation to him is to recall the internalized picture of “his” country and the landscape he loves. He thoroughly knows every hill and every forest.
The picture of the country and its soothing atmosphere is so strong in his mind that he does not even have to look at it but only feel its presence. It is in this very landscape which is so familiar to him that he is faced with the unfamiliar sight of the goings-on in the “real world”: the uprising. This vision disturbs the prince: “It was like an immense reptile creeping over the fields; its head dipped out of sight in a slight hollow and its tail went on writhing and growing shorter as though the monster were eating its way slowly into the very heart of the land.” (PR, 38) Seeing an open threat to his last resort, the soothing countryside, and to peace in the convoy catalyses the process of recovering from the “moral shock” he experienced by the sudden death of his wife. After the short relapse into indifference the recollection of the sight of personified threat brings the prince to act. He states himself: “A loss like that opens one’s eyes to unsuspected truths” (PR, 43). The narrator puts the same thing into more poetic words when he tells us: “Thus humbly and in accord with the simplicity of the vision of duty he saw when death had removed the brilliant bandage of happiness from his eyes, did Prince Roman bring his offering to his country.” (PR, 44) Only I cannot agree completely that it was merely the influence of death that shows the prince his destination.
It takes more than this early death to make him see his “duty.” The relation he himself establishes between his misfortune and the impending ruin of his country seems to be a more adequate explanation: “He remembered… a reptile-like convoy of soldiery… crawling over the face of that land which was his. The woman he loved had been his, too.” (PR, 41) Having been helplessly watching his dying wife he cannot bear the thought of watching another loved being die. The prince realises that in the latter case he is able to help. It is obvious that seeing is crucial to Roman’s insight.
Only by watching the threat his mind is brought to draw conclusions and take steps against the threat. 5. Prince Roman as a story of character? Having stated before that Prince Roman is the protagonist and hero of the short story – nomen est omen – it is perhaps time to find out whether his figure really is the dominant element of the story, which would enable us to categorise the story as a story of character. Or is it rather the action that drives the protagonist, which would be one requirement to call it a story of action. It is also to be examined if these theoretical categories do apply at all. Hans-Werner Ludwig quotes in his book Arbeitsbuch Romananalyse Edwin Muir who established definitions of both “novel of character” and “novel of action.” In a “novel of action”, in our case a story of action, an unimportant event is complicated unexpectedly so that later on the complications can be solved “miraculously.” The readers attention is usually absorbed by this development.
In Prince Roman there is no “trifling event” which catalyses the action but a decisive point which changes his whole life. The death of his wife cannot by any means be called insignificant. Additionally, the complications evoked by the event are not solved very smoothly but cost the protagonist a hard struggle with himself and finally many years of his life. There is no “deus-ex-machina” effect even though the appearance of the soldiers’ convoy is intruding Roman’s life out of the blue and giving it a vital change. It is however not to be denied that this second happening of importance influences the hero’s character and behaviour considerably.
Here we touch a second point which makes a story of action. As the term implies “action is the main thing, the response of the characters to it incidental.” Here it becomes clear that, in the case of Prince Roman, his reaction to the uprising is not accidental but carefully motivated by the narrator by linking his hero’s desire to help the Polish people inseparably to the bitter experience of death and the feeling of helplessness connected with it. A third main argument in favour of a story of action is Muir’s statement that characters in these stories have only “such… , and so much character, as the action demands.” As I have stated above the narrator denies us a full insight into the prince’s soul and only reveals his feelings and thoughts when it serves the action. Obviously “story of action” is – however true in some respects – not a satisfying categorisation of Prince Roman.
The hero in “stories of character” does contrary to his counterpart in stories of action not exist exclusively to “precipitate the action” but “lives” rather independently of the plot, which is supporting the development of figures and throws light on their qualities and weaknesses. Prince Roman is dependent of the plot but the plot does also serve to show his character when he decides to join the rising and when the time of war is described in greater detail. During the course of the trial then the action steps back to give way to a full development of Prince Roman’s consistency with his patriotic convictions. Another requirement the story does not fulfil is that novel or stories of character are mostly showing their figures in “typical or general” situations. This cannot be true for the prince. At first his wife dies, then a national uprising starts and involves him, which is both not what one would call every-day life.
Having roughly examined the story when it comes to these “pigeon-holes”, one realises that both of them do not do the story justice. It has elements of both, but another category has to be found. 6. Prince Roman as a story of patriotism A solution to the problem what kind of story Prince Roman is, might be the explanation of it as a story of patriotism. Hodges also hints that, when he states: “The most significant link between Prince Roman and Conrad’s father is their concept of patriotic duty, beyond reason, beyond question, beyond all other obligations.” But it will be the task of the following chapters to work out if this categorisation applies satisfyingly.
A first step in the argumentation is the very beginning of the story, when the to-be narrator of the aristocrat’s story talks about Poland: “Of course the year 1831 is for us an historical date, one of these fatal years when… we had once more to murmur ‘Van victis’ and count the cost in sorrow.” (PR, 29) “We” are the Poles who experienced another partition and harder Russian suppression after the rising of 1831 the speaker is talking about. Beginning his story with this historical frame the author presents a clue to its meaning: it is about patriotism. This notion is supported by the consequent passages, where the narrator of the frame story gives further information about the conversation.
It is apparently about “aristocracy”, a “discredited” (PR, 29) topic and as said above about patriotism, which is equally discredited in society at the time of the conversation. But both of the narrators do not seem to agree with that popular opinion. The narrator of the frame story gives the example of great men to prove this opinion wrong and comes to the conclusion: “It requires a certain greatness of soul to interpret patriotism worthily – or else a sincerity of feeling denied to the vulgar refinement of modern thought which cannot understand the august simplicity of a sentiment proceeding from the very nature of things and men.” (PR, 29/30) In this statement we find an author who “rejects all criticism of patriotism” and the “programme” for the story woven around Prince Roman at the same time. 6.
1 The Prince as a patriotic hero Prince Roman has all the qualities that are spoken of in the “programme” at least he develops them after the cut in his life. He loved his wife with all his heart as his eyes and his behaviour betrayed when she was alive. And afterwards his sadness and grief seem to be even stronger than his love was. What if not that could be called a “sincerity of feeling.” Feeling again is the in cent to turn towards the patriotic cause. Seeing the convoy disturbs him greatly. “Chastened by personal sorrow, the prince intuitively responds to his country and her sorrows.” He feels that something has to be done to prevent Poland from destruction.
However, Andreas Osborne declares: “Intellectual integrity had made a social outcast of Prince Roman, who chose to be at odds with society because he condemned it.” He puts the stress on the prince’s rationality and intellect, whereas he completely disregards the emotional side of the protagonist. Yet, this character trait prevails clearly in the story: “They think I let myself be guided too much by mere sentiment.” (PR, 55). Osborne also states that Prince Roman “voluntarily chose ostracism and exile as a matter of principle”, which would make the prince more of a social critic than of a patriot what he really is. And in this position he is only lead by feeling: “Conrad makes it clear that the basis of patriotism is feeling.” In the course of the story the narrator refers to the aristocrat’s vocation as “the simplicity of the vision of duty” (PR, 44). Patriotism and consistency are purported to be inherent to Roman’s nature. His conviction is “the religion of undying hope” (PR, 48).
Up to this point the protagonist fulfils all the points necessary to judge patriotism “worthily” and therefore also the requirements to be a “proper” patriot. But it takes more to make him a hero. In the rising his outstanding fortitude is attributed to virtues such as self-possession, conscience, devotion, and perseverance (cf. PR, 46).
He is even able – due to his charisma springing from his faith – to encourage others to devote themselves completely to the national cause. Leading his company to the fortress is certainly a patriotic and her ioc deed. Still heightening is possible. Being captured and standing in court he does not content himself with what he has achieved already for his country but disregards the framed questions and states the truth: “I joined the national rising from conviction” (PR, 52). With that he has reached the status of the “ideal” patriot, self-sacrificing and holding on to his principles.
The question now is, why does Conrad as an emigrant writer usually making seamen, who are supposed to be homeless, his heroes establish such a compelling example of ardent patriotism? 6. 2 Biographical background and literary sources 6. 2. 1 Biographical background The “story is, in its form and in its origins, a personal recollection”, is what Adam Gillon says about Prince Roman. This is insofar true as the hero, Prince Roman, really existed as “Prince Roman Sanguszko, a participant of the 1831 uprising against the Russians, on whose life the story is based.” Conrad’s uncle, Tadeusz Bobrowski, owned, like the narrator’s uncle, a mansion in one of the Polish provinces.
It might have been there where young Conrad met the historical personage Prince Roman. Even if he didn’t meet him personally, Conrad was able to draw information from Bobrowski’s “Memoirs”, in which he mentioned the prince: “the novelist drew entire passages [from there] and used them almost without changes in Prince Roman.” But Conrad did also use his own experience to write the story. As Robert Hodges explains, Conrad’s writing of the story was in a time when he “made peace between the warring halves of his personality.” These two halves are based on his father’s, Apollo Korzeniowski’s, and Bobrowski’s characters. Apollo is said to have been a patriot with all his heart, an idealist and perhaps a dreamer, whereas Tadeusz was known for his rationality and matter-of-fact attitude. Because his father died very young, Conrad was educated for the most part by his uncle, who tried to influence him towards realism. These contradicting attitudes caused great problems for Conrad for all his life.
At the age of about fifty-three, however, “he developed and almost uncritical approval for his father and Poland”, which means for Polish national romanticism. This is why in Prince Roman he “defends his father’s impractical patriotism against the worldly wisdom of his uncle.” There is a second point – concerning his father – which links Prince Roman closely to Conrad’s biography: “The prince’s grief over the death of his beautiful young wife recalls Korzeniowski’s despair after his wife’s death.” Probably Conrad wanted to overcome his own confusion, he surely felt, looking at his despairing father by working it out literarily in older age. Another reason, based on Conrad’s biography, for writing a “patriotic” story might have been his former silence concerning the goings-on in Poland. Polish writers have often criticised the author for not writing articles in favour of Poland in times of crisis. In this story now, he creates a strong patriotic hero, a model. Perhaps he thought it would be more effectively to wrap his patriotic statement in a historical story in order to conciliate his critics and to be able to use his talent as a writer of fiction.
6. 2. 2 Literary sources It is in two ways that Conrad uses Polish literature as a source for his “Polish story”: in style and form he falls back upon schemes commonly used by Polish writers and as regards content he takes elements from popular Polish works. Adam Gillon points out that there are two categories of literature or rather narrative technique Conrad uses. Firstly, there is to mention “the Polish gaw eda (“yarn”), in which a narrator recalls a personal tale in an informal fashion.” The informal element is to be seen in the conversation which forms the frame story; the narrator does also tell of his family and of acquaintances of his family which makes him “recall a personal tale.” Secondly, Conrad covers with his story almost the whole of his protagonist’s life and lets Prince Roman appear as some kind of biography. This proceeding goes back to “the customary Polish genre of zy wot (“life”) .” Apparently also Conrad’s father and uncle used this scheme in writing.
The most important literary work Conrad employs is the Polish national epic Pan Tadeusz written by one of the most famous Polish writers Adam Mickiewicz. “My father read Pan Tadeusz aloud to me and made me read it out loud on many occasions.” By this statement and the further knowledge that Conrad kept a copy of the epic for all his life it becomes clear how much impact this work of “Polish Romanticism” must have had on the emigrant’s conception of his native country. There are several features both works have in common. Cedric Watts claims that in Prince Roman as well as in Pan Tadeusz “a man’s grief at the loss of a beloved woman is slowly converted into a determination to fight self-sacrificially for Polish independence.” This change in attitude is – according to Adam Gillon – a “moral transformation” and to be found in Pan Tadeusz, as said before, as well as in The Deluge by Henryk Sienkiewicz. In both works the protagonist turns into an ideal patriot, as Prince Roman does in Conrad’s story. 7.
Prince Roman as a “positive” hero Having now examined the hero’s character and its significance for the story as well as the meaning of the story one must admit that the story is perhaps deficient in a very complicated plot and mysteriously-fascinating characters. Everything seems to unravel itself miraculously easy and in the end we are faced with a true happy ending which is not common in Conrad’s stories. It might be due to that fact that some critics do not include Prince Roman in the circle of his masterpieces: “As a work of pure literature its value is limited.” Adam Gillon also judges: “Admittedly, it is not one of Conrad’s greatest achievements.” But he puts this fact down to “Conrad’s profound emotional involvement with the subject matter” and, doing this, excuses Conrad in a way. This is my intention, too, if “excuse” is the proper expression. However the literary “value” of the story may be assessed, it is sure that Prince Roman is one of the few heroes who can doubtless be called a “real hero”: he is “one of the few protagonists of Conrad to recover from adversity and isolation” and even in old age does not hide behind his deafness but goes towards other people and helps. In the discussion after having held the talk about Prince Roman this was a point which came up.
Some of the participants of the Seminar were surprised that the author of Heart of Darkness was able to let a story end so placatory. In this positive criticism lies probably the greatest praise for the author and his story of patriotism, because it is only by the “happy end” and the positive hero that Conrad could give the Polish people hope for the future and an example for their own behaviour, which is most probably what he intended to do. Primary literature: Conrad, Joseph. “Prince Roman.” Tales of hearsay and last essays.
The Medallion Edition of the Works of Joseph Conrad 22. London: The Gresham Publishing Co. ltd. , 1928. 29-55. Secondary literature: Andreas, Osborne.
Joseph Conrad: A study in non-conformity. London: Vision Press, 1962. Faulstich, Werner and Hans-Werner Ludwig. Arbeitstechniken f”ur Studenten der Literaturwissenschaft. 4 th ed. Literaturwissenschaft im Grundstudium: Sonderband.
T”ubingen: Narr, 1993. Gillon, Adam. Joseph Conrad. Boston: T wayne Publications, 1982. Hodges, Robert. The dual heritage of Joseph Conrad.
The Hague: Mouton, 1967. Ludwig, Hans-Werner, ed. Arbeitsbuch Romananalyse. 4 th ed. Literaturwissenschaft im Grundstudium 12. T”ubingen: Narr, 1993.
Meyers, Jeffrey. Joseph Conrad: A biography. London: Murray, 1991. Senn, Werner. Conrad’s narrative voice: stylistic aspects of his fiction.
Schweizer Anglistische Arbeiten. 100. Bern: Francke, 1980. Watts, Cedric. Joseph Conrad: A literary life. Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1989..