The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

   Volume 9, Uncollected Letters and Indexes

    Edited by Laurence Davies, Owen Knowles, Gene M. Moore, J. H. Stape, 2007

   

The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

   Volume 8, 1923–1924

    Edited by Laurence Davies, Gene M. Moore, 2007

   

The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

    Volume 7, 1920–1922

    Edited by Laurence Davies, J. H. Stape, 2005

   

   

The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

   Volume 5, 1912–1916

   Edited by Frederick Karl, Laurence Davies, 1996

   

The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

   Volume 4, 1908–1911

   Edited by Frederick Karl, Laurence Davies, 1991

   

The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

   Volume 3, 1903–1907

   Edited by Frederick R. Karl, Laurence Davies, 1988

The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

   Volume 2, 1898-1902

   Edited by Jeffrey Meyers, 1987

   

The Collected Letters of Joseph Conrad

   Volume 1, 1861–1897

   Edited by Frederick Karl, Laurence Davies, 1983

   

Joseph Conrad's Letters to His Wife; London, 1927

Joseph Conrad: Life and Letters; G. Jean-Aubry; N.Y., 1927

Letters from Joseph Conrad; Edward Garnett; Indianapolis, 1928

Conrad to a Friend; Richard Curle; N.Y., 1928

Joseph Conrad: Lettres francaises; G. Jean-Aubry; Paris, 1930

Letters of Joseph Conrad to Marguerite Poradowska; John Gee, Paul J. Sturm; New Haven, Connecticut, 1940

Joseph Conrad: Letters to William Blackwood and David S. Meldrum; Liam Blackburn; Durham, N.C., 1958

Conrad's Polish Background: Letters to and from Polish Friends; Zdzislaw Najder; London, 1964

Joseph Conrad's Letters to R.B. Cunninghame Graham; Cedric T. Watts; Cambridge, 1969

(geschrieben 1917):

MY DEAR COLVIN,

In answer to your card, I write at once first to tell you how glad I am to hear you have consented to Garvin's request, next to say that there can be no possible objection to your recognizing the autobiographical character of that piece of writing let us call it. It is so much so that I shrink from calling it a Tale. If you will notice I call it A Confession on the title page.(*) For, from a certain point of view, it is that and essentially as sincere as any confession can be. The more perfectly so, perhaps, because its object is not the usual one of self-revelation. My object was to show all the others and the situation through the medium of my own emotions. The most heavily tried (because the most self-conscious), the least "worthy" perhaps, there was no other way in which I could render justice to all these souls "worthy of my undying regard."

Perhaps you won't find it presumption if, after 22 years of work, I may say that I have not been very well understood. I have been called a writer of the sea, of the tropics, a descriptive writer, a romantic writer and also a realist. But as a matter of fact all my concern has been with the "ideal" value of things, events and people. That and nothing else.

(geschrieben 1894):

My Dearest Aunt,

Forgive me for not having written sooner, but I am in the midst of struggling with chapter XI *); a struggle to the death, you know ! If I let up, I am lost. I am writing you just before going out. I must go out sometimes, alas ! I begrudge each minute I spend away from paper. I do not say 'from pen' because I write very little, but inspiration comes to me in looking at the paper. Then there are soaring flights: my thought goes wandering through vast spaces filled with shadowy forms. All is yet chaos, but, slowly, the apparitions change into living flesh, the shimmering mists take shape, and - who knows ? - something may be born of the clash of nebulous ideas. I send you the first page (of which I have made a copy) to give you an idea of the appearance of my manuscript. I owe you this since I have seen yours. I like, so I do, to conform to the rules of etiquette.

I embrace you heartly. Ever Yours !

(geschrieben 1908):

Très Cher Maître,

They have arrvied, the six of them: I have felt them all in turn and all at one time as it were, and to celebrate the event I have given myself a holiday for the morning, not to read any one of them - I could not settle to that - but to commune with them all, and gloat over the promise of the prefaces. But of these last I have read one already, the preface to 'The American', the first of your long novels I ever read - in '91. This is quite a thrill to be taken thus into your convidence; a strong emotion it is a privilege to be made to feel - à cinquante ans ! Afterwards I could not resist the temptation of reading the beautiful and touching last ten pages of the story. There is in them a perfection of tone which calmed me, and I sat for a long while with the closed volume in my hand going over the preface in my mind and thinking - that is how it began, that's how it was done. I thank you for the gift, I thank you before all for the opportunity to breathe in the assurance of your good-will, the fortifying atmosphere of your serene achievement.

Yours most affectionately and gratefully !

Ein Dankesbrief Conrad's an Jack London vom 10.9.1915. Jack London hatte seine Begeisterung über den Roman 'Chance' ('Spiel des Zufalls') in einem Brief an Conrad ausgedrückt.

Darling Own Jess,

Thank you for your letters, which are arriving regularly. The news of the offer to direct the cooking dept. of a magazine has excited me greatly. I don't see why it should come to nothing if you feel like accepting it. I am sure you would do it very well. I am writing you on this card because there is nothing else in this flat where we slept last night: and if I waited till we get back to Oyster Bay I would miss tomorrow's packet. And besides, dearest girl, I feel at this moment (10.30 A. M.) perfectly flat, effect of reaction after last evening, - which ended only after midnight, - at Mrs. Curtiss James's.

I may tell you at once that it was a most brilliant affair, and I would have given anything for you to have been there and seen all that crowd and all that splendour, the very top of the basket of the fashionable and literary circles. All last week there was desperate fighting and plotting in the N. York society to get invitations. I had the lucky inspiration to refuse to accept any payment; and, my dear, I had a perfect success. I gave a talk and pieces of reading out of Victory. After the applause from the audience, which stood up when I appeared, had ceased I had a moment of positive anguish. Then I took out the watch you had given me and laid it on the table, made one mighty effort and began to speak. That watch was the greatest comfort to me. Something of you, I timed myself by it all along. I began at 9.45 and ended exactly at 11. There was a most attentive silence, some laughs and at the end, when I read the chapter of Lena s death, audible snuffling. Then hand shaking with 200 people. It was a great experience. On Tuesday we start for a tour towards Boston. They are calling me to go and see Vance. I must end. Love to you, best of darlings.

Your devoted.

(geschrieben während seines USA-Aufenthalts am 11. Mai 1923):