Unaware of the history of how this unfinished last novel of Conrad, I am able only to respond to my immediate reactions. And those are suspect. The sentences are too short. The novel made use of parenthesis and dashes, which I never have seen before in Conrad's work. And there is the absence of so many of his favorite words. It does not seem like a typical sample of his work.

Too, the story is altogether to optimistic at the end. Used to a steady dose of Conrad's melancholy and sometimes outright tragedy, the world of promise and new adventure seems out of place. Although it should be mentioned that even here, melancholy seems to be at work. For the cause is republicanism arising out of the ashes of Napoleon's first exile. And the writer and reader will know how that ultimately ended.

In short, it is a choppy work. And where Conrad usually glides and slips between perspectives and points of view, here, the transitions are clunky. It is all like bad phrasing while playing music. ( )