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This carefully crafted ebook: 'The Napoleonic Novels: The Rover & Suspense' is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents.
The Rover is a novel by Joseph Conrad, written between 1921 and 1922. It was first published in 1923. The story takes place in the south of France, against the backdrop of the French Revolution, Napoleon's rise to power, and the French-English rivalry in the Mediterranean.
Suspense: A Napoleonic Novel is the last novel of Joseph Conrad and was published in 1925.
Joseph Conrad (1857-1924), was a Polish author who wrote in English after settling in England. Conrad is regarded as one of the greatest novelists in English, though he did not speak the language fluently until he was in his twenties. He wrote stories and novels, often with a nautical setting, that depict trials of the human spirit in the midst of an indifferent universe. He was a master prose stylist who brought a distinctly non-English tragic sensibility into English literature.
Table of Contents:
Novels
The Rover (1923)
Suspense: A Napoleonic Novel (1925)
Memoirs & Letters
A Personal Record; or Some Reminiscences
The Mirror of the Sea
Notes on Life & Letters
Biography and Critical Essays
Joseph Conrad (A Biography) by Hugh Walpole
Joseph Conrad, A Personal Remembrance by Ford Madox Ford
Joseph Conrad by John Albert Macy
A Conrad Miscellany by John Albert Macy
Joseph Conrad by Virginia Woolf
This carefully crafted ebook: "The Napoleonic Novels: The Rover & Suspense" is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents. The Rover is a novel by Joseph Conrad, written between 1921 and 1922. It was first published in 1923. The story takes place in the south of France, against the backdrop of the French Revolution, Napoleon's rise to power, and the French-English rivalry in the Mediterranean. Suspense: A Napoleonic Novel is the last novel of Joseph Conrad and was published in 1925. Joseph Conrad (1857-1924), was a Polish author who wrote in English after settling in England. Conrad is regarded as one of the greatest novelists in English, though he did not speak the language fluently until he was in his twenties. He wrote stories and novels, often with a nautical setting, that depict trials of the human spirit in the midst of an indifferent universe. He was a master prose stylist who brought a distinctly non-English tragic sensibility into English literature. Table of Contents: Novels The Rover (1923) Suspense: A Napoleonic Novel (1925) Memoirs & Letters A Personal Record; or Some Reminiscences The Mirror of the Sea Notes on Life & Letters Biography and Critical Essays Joseph Conrad (A Biography) by Hugh Walpole Joseph Conrad, A Personal Remembrance by Ford Madox Ford Joseph Conrad by John Albert Macy A Conrad Miscellany by John Albert Macy Joseph Conrad by Virginia Woolf
Klappentext
This carefully crafted ebook: "The Napoleonic Novels: The Rover & Suspense" is formatted for your eReader with a functional and detailed table of contents. The Rover is a novel by Joseph Conrad, written between 1921 and 1922. It was first published in 1923. The story takes place in the south of France, against the backdrop of the French Revolution, Napoleon's rise to power, and the French-English rivalry in the Mediterranean. Suspense: A Napoleonic Novel is the last novel of Joseph Conrad and was published in 1925. Joseph Conrad (1857-1924), was a Polish author who wrote in English after settling in England. Conrad is regarded as one of the greatest novelists in English, though he did not speak the language fluently until he was in his twenties. He wrote stories and novels, often with a nautical setting, that depict trials of the human spirit in the midst of an indifferent universe. He was a master prose stylist who brought a distinctly non-English tragic sensibility into English literature. Table of Contents: Novels The Rover (1923) Suspense: A Napoleonic Novel (1925) Memoirs & Letters A Personal Record; or Some Reminiscences The Mirror of the Sea Notes on Life & Letters Biography and Critical Essays Joseph Conrad (A Biography) by Hugh Walpole Joseph Conrad, A Personal Remembrance by Ford Madox Ford Joseph Conrad by John Albert Macy A Conrad Miscellany by John Albert Macy Joseph Conrad by Virginia Woolf
Leseprobe
Chapter 2
Table of Contents
Citizen Peyrol stayed at the inn-yard gate till the night had swallowed up all those features of the land to which his eyes had clung as long as the last gleams of daylight. And even after the last gleams had gone he had remained for some time staring into the darkness in which all he could distinguish was the white road at his feet and the black heads of pines where the cart track dipped towards the coast. He did not go indoors till some carters who had been refreshing themselves had departed with their big two-wheeled carts piled up high with empty wine-casks, in the direction of Fréjus. The fact that they did not remain for the night pleased Peyrol. He ate his bit of supper alone, in silence, and with a gravity which intimidated the old woman who had aroused in him the memory of his mother. Having finished his pipe and obtained a bit of candle in a tin candle-stick, Citizen Peyrol went heavily upstairs to rejoin his luggage. The crazy staircase shook and groaned under his feet as though he had been carrying a burden. The first thing he did was to close the shutters most carefully as though he had been afraid of a breath of night air. Next he bolted the door of the room. Then sitting on the floor, with the candlestick standing before him between his widely straddled legs, he began to undress, flinging off his coat and dragging his shirt hastily over his head. The secret of his heavy movements was disclosed then in the fact that he had been wearing next his bare skin - like a pious penitent his hair-shirt - a sort of waistcoat made of two thicknesses of old sail-cloth and stitched all over in the manner of a quilt with tarred twine. Three horn buttons closed it in front. He undid them, and after he had slipped off the two shoulder-straps which prevented this strange garment from sagging down on his hips he started rolling it up. Notwithstanding all his care there were during this operation several faint chinks of some metal which could not have been lead.
His bare torso thrown backwards and sustained by his rigid big arms heavily tattooed on the white skin above the elbows, Peyrol drew a long breath into his broad chest with a pepper-and-salt pelt down the breastbone. And not only was the breast of Citizen Peyrol relieved to the fullest of its athletic capacity, but a change had also come over his large physiognomy on which the expression of severe stolidity had been simply the result of physical discomfort. It isn't a trifle to have to carry girt about your ribs and hung from your shoulders a mass of mixed foreign coins equal to sixty or seventy thousand francs in hard cash; while as to the paper money of the Republic, Peyrol had had already enough experience of it to estimate the equivalent in cartloads. A thousand of them. Perhaps two thousand. Enough in any case to justify his flight of fancy, while looking at the countryside in the light of the sunset, that what he had on him would buy all that soil from which he had sprung: houses, woods, vines, olives, vegetable gardens, rocks and salt lagoons - in fact, the whole landscape, including the animals in it. But Peyrol did not care for the land at all. He did not want to own any part of the solid earth for which he had no love. All he wanted from it was a quiet nook, an obscure corner out of men's sight where he could dig a hole unobserved.
That would have to be done pretty soon, he thought. One could not live for an indefinite number of days with a treasure strapped round one's chest. Meantime, an …