|       | 
| Almayer’s Folly:
       | 
| The fall of a European in
      Malaya. That is what Conrad wanted to
        write about when he started his first book, Almayer’s
          Folly.
           And he
        did write about that but about much more besides.
             
         The action
        unfolds in Malaya, not far from Borneo in the 1950s when
        Malaya
        was still under the control of the English.
   In a
        little isolated village far from anywhere.
             On a wide
        river and the river will play a very important role in this story that is
        simple yet deals with passion and dream, racism and money.
   Yearning for independence and cowardice, but above all the love of a
        father for his daughter which, when he loses her to another man who is not even
        white, will go as far as madness and his complete downfall.
   
         Vast
        amounts of gold and diamonds are supposed to exist in the land that Captain
        Lingard is said to know how to get to.
             He is
        known to have been behind the career and life of Almayer to whom he married off
        a Malay girl he had taken in and given a white woman’s education that she very
        quickly rejects.
   All in
        exchange for the gold he would find one day.
             
         But
        Almayer has entered into a fool’s bargain in marrying the Malay girl. Captain
        Lingard dies without having found the mines and Almayer neither loves nor is
        loved by his wife who rejects everything about the western way of life.
   
         A mixed marriage that produces a little mixed-race child, Nina, who
        will also have a white girl’s education against the wishes of her mother who
        risks her life running away with her daughter.
   She will
        be caught and little Nina too will go off to a
       
         Singapore
        boarding school to get a
        western education befitting a white girl, like her mother.
   And she
        too will suffer from it.
             She
        returns a beautiful, tall, young woman, but she is impassive and totally
        unsmiling.
             
         Almayer
        does not understand, in any case he does not want to understand.
             He wears
        himself down trying to find the way to the gold so as to be able to take his
        daughter to
       Europe where he hopes that, with
        their wealth, her mixed race will be accepted and her beauty celebrated.
  Europe
        is where true life is found. Not on the banks of
        this river where he is the only white man and where his business interests are
        falling apart.
   
         He
        suffers from his daughter’s indifference when he talks to her about his dreams.
        Dreams he thinks he can share with her.
   Western
        civilisation he wants to take her to, whatever the cost.
             The only
        form civilisation takes moreover.
             For him,
        the people living along the river are just savages.
             
         But the
        girl has been irreparably damaged by the long years of humiliation she has
        spent in boarding school. And she loathes everything that reminds her of that
        civilisation.
             
         She knows
        her father harbours dreams. Dreams for both of them.
   Her
        father who never stops telling her he loves her.
             It’s for
        her that he wants to make a fortune and he thinks that money will overcome
        prejudice.
             Prejudice that dwells within him. He looks down on his wife who has totally gone
        back to Malay ways. For him she is foreign, a savage. Nothing binds them but
        mutual disdain.
             And it’s
        his wife who will thrust his daughter into the arms of a Rajah’s son, a
        handsome, strong, young man who is part of the group of insurgents intent on liberating their country.
   Dain
        Maroola.
             He comes
        to see Almayer to ask him for gunpowder when trading in it is totally
        prohibited.
             Almayer
        agrees however on condition that Maroola with his men and boats helps him find
        the way that leads to the gold.
             The young
        man agrees and falls madly in love with Nina.
             Who loves
        him in return. And for the first time, she smiles.
   
         And when
        the young man has to leave the village to go off to attack a gunboat protecting
        the colonists, they swear undying love, whatever may happen and whatever the
        cost.
             She and
        her father begin the wait for him.
             
         And the
        young man, on a night of storms and wild seas, does come back, risking his life
        to do so, but without his boat.
             He is in
        a dugout canoe with just two of his men.
             
         The
        morning after the stormy night, Almayer finds, caught among logs floating by
        the bank, the body of Dain.
             All his
        dreams are in ruin. He wants to die. Die and drink.
             
         He does
        not suspect that the man he has found with his head smashed in is one of Dain’s
        sailors and that Dain himself, after a night in the wild waters of the river,
        has been reunited with his daughter who has hidden him in a far-off clearing.
   Nor that
        it is his wife who had the idea of passing off the dead sailor for Dain
        Maroola.
             
         He will
        be questioned by the English soldiers but will only tell them what he knows.
             During a
        drunken night spent with them, he will show them the man with his head smashed
        in.
             Then he
        will fall asleep on his verandah.
             It is
        there that a servant girl will wake him and tell him everything.
             Dain is
        not dead and his daughter has run off with him. She tells him where the young
        couple is hiding, waiting for a boat to take them down to the sea.
             
         Almayer
        will find them, pleads, shouts and weeps for his daughter to leave this young
        man, a savage.
             When he
        learns that it is too late, that his daughter has given herself to “that”, his
        grief will know no limit.
   His
        daughter is no longer his daughter, no longer part of him, he who had so many
        dreams for her.
             He who
        had given her a white girl’s education and she has made love with this Malay.
   And yet
        he wants her back, he wants her for himself.
             But there
        is no way, she resists.
             He is
        about to ditch them there just when the soldiers are coming, then finally,
        sombre and haggard, takes them to the mouth of the river where a boat is
        waiting to take them to Dain’s father.
   He will
        watch them boarding the boat right up to the very last moment.
             And cover
        over, to the last trace, his daughter’s footsteps in the sand.
   Then go
        home.
             And,
        staring at the river, go mad.
             
         
         
         I read
        the book last summer and I did not then know why, I was so moved by it.
             Then as
        time went by and the detail – the book is filled with it – faded, I realised
        just how universal it was.
   Every
        father has dreams for his daughter or son, and a child’s leaving is often felt
        as a blow.
   Here, the
        blow actually drives the father into madness, because, beyond all else, it
        destroys his dream.
             Why
        bother getting up in the morning, if there is no one to do it for.
             I would
        like to treat this story with simplicity, a father, a mother, a girl, a young
        man in love with her; and with sensuality, thanks to the setting.
             The
        vegetation is lush, the overwhelming heat of the sun, the humidity heavy in the
        air, the richness of colours in the sky and on the
        earth, the wildness of the water endangering those who venture into it. Sudden calm. Mist that lifts, dugouts sliding across the
        water. Birds flying over the river. Nearby
          jungle.
   There is
        something in this story that reminds one of Murnau’s Tabu. And I like pondering how Murnau would make this film if he
        were in the 1950s like me.
   The girl being of mixed-race, the father’s prejudice, the struggle for his people that Dain leads and that Nina joins spontaneously, the whole collective dimension to Conrad’s story makes it even more powerfully relevant for us today. 
 | 
| from Issue 2: Devils | 
| Original French text © Chantal Akerman 13 December 2008. Translation from the French © Philip Anderson and Katharina Benzler May 2012. Cannot be reprinted without permission of the author and editors. |