In August of 1960, Laurel Books released “The Laurel Conrad,” a trio of works by Joseph Conrad. It comes as no surprise that the book would contain “Heart of Darkness.” It is the most recognized of Conrad’s works, and it is accompanied by two progressively shorter works: “Almaer’s Folly” and “The Lagoon.” As with all of Conrad’s works, the novellas and short stories contained in The Laurel Conrad are brilliant works of storytelling, psycho-spiritual insight, and lyrical prose shading ever so slightly toward the more purple domains of prose-writing. Unlike many of the writers to follow Conrad, he avoids overtly purple prose, but the foundations of such an artistic…um…development can be seen in his often-dense descriptions, and sentences of a length that commonly defies the attention spans of many 21st Century readers. The man wrote well in English, perhaps because English was not his first language. His relationship to the language was, as I see it, different. I think one of the most profound aspects of Conrad’s use of the English language stems from the fact that as a non-native speaker, he couldn’t take it for granted. I acquired a copy of Conrad’s three tales for the grand price of $1.99, drawn—first—to the fact that I have yet to read “The Lagoon” or “Almayer’s Folly” for that matter. As both stories follow “Heart of Darkness” I have some idea of what I’m in for. Conrad, like H.P. Lovecraft, is one of my favorite authors, and the two are linked by their casual use of incendiary racism. In Conrad’s case, much of it can be described as the prevailing attitude of the day, whereas Lovecraft was a whole ‘nother kettle of fish. Conrad is a product of his day, which probably explains the controversy surrounding his place in the English-language literary canon. How can there not be controversy surrounding an author who uses one of the more incendiary words in the English language in the very title of a novel. Ah, but again, in the spirit of the day in which the novel was written, common parts of speech were nouns, verbs, and racial epithets. I didn’t think of any of that as I paid just under $2 for a book. I was taken by the cover; the dated 1960s era artwork is—for me—intoxicating. The scent of oxidizing paper is quite relaxing…the feel and the experience of so old a book was my draw…okay…those things and the promise of voluptuous, near-purple prose dripping with gothic descriptions of dark stuff. (If you sit a Conrad novel on a table and leave it there, when you pick it up, you’ll find a sticky puddle of lyrical, gothic dread staining the tabletop; I’d advise you to wipe it up before it congeals; otherwise it’s like trying to get egg-protein out of carpet.) The image I’ve posted here is a reaction to the actual cover of “The Laurel Conrad” edition of three tales by Joseph Conrad. I rather like that cover, and I’m struck by the way it reminded me of an image I’d posted earlier (in response to the Ursula K. LeGuin story, “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas”.) In the earlier image, I depicted a lone human, walking away from a city…I’ve continued the them here, and apparently our nameless, photographic protagonist is still walking. The city is far behind him, and he’s surrounded by…well…darkness, murky stuff, and the brooding implications of trees that may not actually be trees. In those universes that spring into my mind, things are scarcely ever what they seem. I rather like the fact that my nameless, walking protagonist, has walked from one image into another…in a sense, he’s walked onto something very similar to the book cover adorning three tales I bought for $1.99. I had fun making this image, while listening, to of all things, the sound track to Prometheus. I wonder if that means anything. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great week.