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The Secret Agent is a tale of late Victorian espionage authored by the master novelist Joseph Conrad
The Secret Agent was published in 1907. It's author is Ukranian born Joseph Conrad (1857-1924) an old sea dog who wrote some of the greatest late Victorian and Edwardian novels in English. Among them are "Nostromo"; "Lord Jim" "Almayer's Folly" and classic short tales such as "Typhoon" and "The Heart of Darkness." The Secret Agent is a departure of sorts for Conrad in that in occurs in London and not on the seven seas or an island in the East Indies.
The Secret Agent is set in late Victorian London. Adolf Verloc is a French-English secret agent who has worked for a foreign embassy in London. He is obese, egotistical, dull-witted and seeks comfort in his home. He owns a slutty pornography shop in Soho where he lives with wife Vinnie, her mother and her dim-witted half-brother Stevie. Verloc is much older than wife Winnie whom he met and courted while living in Mrs. Verloc's boarding house. Winnie dropped a butcher suitor to marry the enigmatic Verloc.
One bright morning secret agent Verloc takes his mentally challenged brother-in-law Stevie to Greenwich Conservatory.. He has given Stevie a bomb to blow up the conservatory. the bomb is accidently discharged when Stevie trips killing the young man in an explosive blast. Police trace the crime to the Verloc's shop when they discover a part of Stevie's collar containing the firm's address.Verloc is later murdered by Winnie who blames him for the boy's death. Winnie is incosolable since her aged mother has recently moved into a retirement cottage and Stevie was like a son to her. Winnie and Stevie were both abused as chldren. Winnie hangs herself because she does not want to die on the gallows. The story is bleak and gloomy told in an ironic manner in which the bloviating Verloc believes to the end that he is the center of Winnie's universe. Instead his distraught wife stabls him with a bread knife. The novel was later portrayed on screen by Alfred Hitchcock.
The novel has many well etched minor characters including Inspector Heat of the London Police who does not agree with his supervisors in how to combat terrorism. Conrad also draws exoticcharacters who espouse anarchism and rebellion against the British government. Most of these persons are pitiful excuses for human beings being sadly misguided in their allegiances. The most memorable is the Professor who disdains humanity as he walks among the swarms of London's population.
Conrad provides the best atmospheric scene setting of any English novelist since Charles Dickens set the London scene in "Bleak House" in the 1850s. The London portrayed is swirling in cold fog, mud, chill rain and gas lit sreets. Conrad's chapter on the trip taken by Winnie, Stevie and their mother to her new home in a retirement cottage is a gem. Notable is Stevie's compassion for an old hansom horse and the poverty and hunger present in the urban jungle where good people suffer daily as they attempt to eke out a living and fight the wolves of hunger.
The novel was prescient in many ways concerning the 20th and 21st centuries bloody with the massive crimes committed by dictators, war and terrorism. Conrad's vision was as dark as Thomas Hardy's in its fatalism and the sadness of life on a godless planet. The novel is relevant for the dangerous days in which we live. Conrad is not an easy read but is essential to an understanding of the development of the modern English novel.
An Unexpected Masterpiece
The Secret Agent was a major risk for Joseph Conrad, a London tale of international political intrigue far removed from the symbolic sea adventures he had previously written. That it is not only one of his greatest triumphs but also one of the best novels of its kind testifies to his greatness. The diversity it introduced to his canon is truly remarkable; very few writers have works so different in nearly every respect. It is thus essential not only for those who like his other work but also for those who do not.
The immediate subjects are terrorism and anarchism, and I know of no work that uses them with more brilliance or verisimilitude. Conrad's Preface says that he thought it a high compliment when terrorists and anarchists praised its realism, and he indeed deserved it. He brings this truly underground world vividly to life, depicting everything from speech to customs to dress in believable detail. The vast majority of course want nothing to do with such a world, but the peek is undeniably fascinating. Conrad's psychological insight is particularly intriguing and valuable. All this brings up the important - some would say central - point of how Conrad views these characters. That terrorists and other unsavory personages have been sympathetic to it - particularly the Unabomber's obsession with it - seems to strongly suggest that Conrad leans toward them, but a close reading of the text or mere glance at his Preface shows otherwise. He clearly has nothing but contempt for them; this comes across forcefully in the narrator's ironic mockery and Conrad's noting that Winnie Verloc is the only true anarchist - a terrorist jab if ever one existed. In his view, they were pretentious, portentous, and above all, simply ineffectual with greatly exaggerated self-importance. Thus, though the book does a great service in peering into their dark world, it also arguably gives false comfort in showing them as ambiguously inept. The ominous last paragraph undercuts this somewhat, perhaps reflecting Conrad's uneasiness about the future. From an American perspective, the book of course has added interest in a post-9/11 world, but we must not let knee-jerk reactions blind us to its true worth and value.
This brings up another important point - the novel has long had great relevance elsewhere. Though written in the early twentieth century and set in the late nineteenth, it in many ways encapsulates the uneasy political atmosphere that dominated much of Europe, Russia, Latin America, Asia, and elsewhere throughout the last century. Their citizens have become unwillingly familiar with people like the book's characters and especially their deeds, giving the novel near-prophetic prescience. Its strongly implied portrait of Russian political machinations - taken up directly a few years later in Under Western Eyes - is particularly notable in coming but a decade before the Bolshevik Revolution. Conrad clearly had his finger on the world's political pulse as few artists have. It is also easy to forget that his vision is not limited to extremes like terrorism and anarchism; he vividly dramatizes the political unrest and unjust social conditions that make such extremes possible as well as official responses. In short, he zeroes in on much of what is wrong with the Western world in the last century plus. Almost no one noticed initially, but it became ever clearer that the book darkly anticipated much of the twentieth century's direst events, making it in many ways even more valuable than when new.
Yet it is also a historical novel in the best sense. The portrayal of late Victorian London is one of the most notable of any city in literature. We get a good idea of what it was like to live there, especially in its dark underbelly - and Conrad leaves no doubt that it was far from pretty. His descriptions are very visceral, emphasizing dirt, grime, and overall dreariness. There is widespread sentimental longing for many Victorian aspects, but Conrad does not let us forget the darker side. Again, this is not restricted to those outside the law; Conrad always had great sympathy for the poor and downtrodden and shows their plight here with stunning bluntness. This imparts more emotion than is usual in Conrad, chiefly pathos, and is also very thought-provoking. Conrad always excelled at this last, and The Secret is a preeminent example despite its shortness, giving food for thought on everything from sociopolitical issues to domesticity.
Despite all this, the novel can also be enjoyed on a very basic level as a sort of detective story/spy adventure hybrid. Conrad after all belongs to the golden era of detective fiction and was skilled enough to work in elements without compromising his art. There is not much mystery in the usual sense, but he manipulates the narrative to provide a great deal of dramatic irony and suspense. The spy aspect was more original - indeed one of the first instances of its kind and enormously influential. All this means that those who dislike Conrad's usual settings and plots may well be pleasantly surprised.
As ever with Conrad, there is no conventional hero or anything like one; nearly all characters are indeed thoroughly loathsome. Verloc, the protagonist, is somewhat ambiguous; though ostensibly dislikable as a petty traitor, some have seen him as at least slightly admirable or high-minded in trying to carry out his deed without loss of life and in his strong family support. Like many Conrad characters, he is notable above all for sheer incompetence. He is so hapless that condemning him seems not only superfluous but near-cruel; aside from whether or not we think his end deserved, he can easily arouse either pity or contempt depending on one's charitableness.
His wife is one of the more nuanced depictions; some even see her as the hidden key or the real story beneath all the political trappings. Conrad's Preface indeed refers to the book as "the story of Winnie Verloc." And so it is in some ways. Though Conrad is legitimately called essentially conservative, some have found feminist threads in his work, and this may be the best example. Winnie is a truly tragic figure, a perhaps extreme but in many ways representative example of what a woman can be reduced to in an overtly sexist society. She married for money rather than love and often wonders if she made the right decision; it is easy to say no in today's liberalized world, but such sweeping generalizations are unfair for the time. It was after all virtually impossible for women to get by without a husband's income. More importantly, Winnie is kind and caring, full of sympathy and empathy as almost no Conrad characters are and not without intelligence. How we should view her drastic act is a very open question, as she is arguably more sinned against than sinning and certainly pitiable, whatever her faults. Conrad is not one to lionize characters, but she is one of the few he does not outright condemn, which says much.
With characteristic irony, Conrad makes the mentally enfeebled Stevie the most sympathetic and possibly the most likable character. However conventionally limited, his depth of feeling and empathy nears a human ideal, as may his unquestioning love and loyalty. His revelation on the coach is one of literature's greatest, most powerful, and most thought-provoking scenes, and his conclusions here and elsewhere are very possibly at least as legitimate as the most storied philosophers'. The contrasts between him and other characters, especially criminal ones, is the source of much irony.
As all this suggests, the book is very much in line with Conrad's dark vision, however otherwise different from prior works. Aside from focusing on the criminal and lowly, its overall picture is near-misanthropic; the novel condemns terrorists and their ilk but also seems to say there is not much worth protecting from them. Human interaction is painted very bleakly; love, domesticity, family relations, and nearly every other interpersonal area seems doomed to fail. Communication itself is almost hopelessly futile. There is also a strong fatalistic streak; characters are drawn into terrible situations against their will and seem unable to escape or even comprehend them. The Secret shows humanity on the verge of great distress with little or no hope of avoiding it.
Much of this comes from the unique narrative style and distinctive prose. Conrad is of course a noted stylist, and this is one of his most notable works in that way. His vocabulary is incredible, his descriptions are breathtaking, and he is eminently quotable, which is truly amazing considering that he was not a native English user. There are so many times when he expresses an idea so perfectly and articulately that many will think with a start that they have had such feelings but could never express them, much less so well. The Secret stands out from some prior works, especially the epic Nostromo, in being remarkably concise; Conrad says only what must be said, sculpting precisely. This is clearest in the dialogue, which is almost non-existent and very brief, not to mention distinctly clipped, when present; the characters are so hapless that they can apparently not even articulate their thoughts. The narration is a distinct contrast, teeming with Conrad's ever-brilliant and eccentric language. This implicitly mocks the characters even more, as does the ostensibly neutral narrator's frequent sniping sarcasm. Many have said that the narrator - and thus presumably Conrad - has an almost malevolent attitude. This makes the book simply too dark for some but also leads to significant black humor, almost the only humor Conrad allowed himself; for what it is worth, The Secret is thus his most humorous book, however far from humorous it generally seems.
The story is also notable for being told in an essentially straight-forward way. As always with Conrad, the prose is somewhat dense, but it is substantially less so than elsewhere, and we do not have to work through multiple narrators as so often with him. The story is not linear but is far easier to follow than usual; the feeling of being lost and disoriented that turns off so many casuals is never present. Conrad subtitled the novel "A Simple Tale," and it is indeed simple in this way, at least compared to his other stories, making this his most accessible major work and giving appeal beyond his usual base. However, it is far from simple in ways that really matter - characterization, themes, philosophical and sociopolitical depth, etc. - and may in many ways be said to have the best of both proverbial worlds.
All told, this is essential for anyone who likes Conrad and a good place for neophytes to start, while even those who think they dislike him may be in for (an admittedly dark) treat.
Powerful and despairing
I must admit to having a love-hate relationship with Conrad. His novels possess an undeniable power, and I have read each of his novels with the utmost fascination. Yet, I can't say that actually reading a Conrad novel is an enjoyable experience. His vision of the world is a tad too bleak, his confidence in human nature way too despairing, and the overall atmosphere way too gloomy for me to derive pleasure from reading Conrad.
Although not set in one of the exotic locales which we associate with Conrad, THE SECRET AGENT is both one of his finest and one of his most typical novel, with one exception. In most of his books, the plot revolves around situations which inevitably lead to tragedy and disaster, but in which a central character is often able to somewhat redeem his life by an act or acts of personal heroism. The feel is usually quite similar to that of Norse mythology, in which Gods and men will struggle at the end of the world against the forces of evil, but will lose. The challenge is to oppose the evil heroically. But in THE SECRET AGENT, the central character is anything but heroic, and is in no truly important way opposed to the powers of evil.
I have to admit to being perplexed by claims that Conrad was a great prose stylist. I will confess that I find that with his prose, the sum is greater than its parts. If you examine his sentences, he is without question, along with Theodore Dreiser, perhaps the worst constructor of sentences in the English language. Perhaps having learned English only after reaching adulthood is to blame. Many of his sentences are grammatically opaque. Frequently his sentences are incomplete or badly constructed. Almost never does Conrad seem to sense the rhythm of the language. Perhaps this lack of rhythm is what many mistake for a great prose style. I have spent a fair amount of time in the secondary literature on Conrad, and so far I have yet to find a single Conrad scholar who felt that he possessed a command of the English language. The consensus seems to be that he is a great writer despite his struggle with the English language, not because of any mastery he possesses over it.
Overall, I hold this to be one of Conrad's most important novels, on a par with UNDER WESTERN EYES, HEART OF DARKNESS, VICTORY, and NOSTROMO.
Ironically, Alfred Hitchcock filmed a version of THE SECRET AGENT, but it was not the movie with the same name. Hitchcock's THE SECRET AGENT was actually based on Maugham's Ashenden stories (which Maugham says were based upon his own experiences as a secret agent; he claims to have been one of the more inept agents in history). Hitchcock's version of the Conrad novel was SABOTAGE. Hitchcock changed many of the details, and his religious beliefs never allowed him to engage in the despair one finds in Conrad (Hitchcock was a devout Catholic). Although his version resembles Conrad, it isn't a very faithful adaptation either in plot or in spirit.
Feminism in a Tasty Dystopia Shell
Conrad's afterword to this book, written twelve years after the book's original publication, shows pretty clearly that he had to be and was defensive about its value. I think the strength in this book is not really in the actual machinations of the anarchists, or their pathetic struggle to find strength in their own obvious weakness(this is often too hateful on Conrad's part for my taste--he clearly loathes them), but in Winnie's story, subdued by most of the events of the novel, and her mostly ignored "Maternal Passion" as Conrad puts it. This is the novel's heart, and the rest of the characters make up a sad, self-important circus around what is essentially her modern feminist heroism.
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Utter nonsense.
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