Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard

“Their names, the names of all mythology, became the household words of a coast that had never been ruled by the gods of Olympus.”

The boats of the ONS are all named after figures from Western mythology. These names are a form of soft power, an imperial projection that reminds the Latin American locals of the dominance of European oligarchs. The boats control the networks of international trade; thus they control the flow of modernization and technology. The foreign oligarchs subtly frame themselves as gods, bringing the manna of free trade and imperialism to the people of Sulaco.

“Has anything ever happened here for a hundred years before today?”

The arrogance of the railway chairman is shown in his ignorance of Sulaco’s history. Without the railway and without the presence of European ports, he is unable to conceive of anything of note which might have happened in the past century. As he will soon be shown, Sulaco has a long and storied history of revolution. For hundreds of years, Sulaco has been a hotbed of political activity and—in threat to the chairman’s business—may soon be again.

“Perhaps the mere fact of being born in the country did make a difference.”

Charles Gould is, in his outside appearance, the quintessential Englishman. Yet he was born and raised in Sulaco; in his mind, he is as much a resident of the nation as anyone else. His bifurcated identity makes him an avatar of The Damaging Effects of Colonial Capitalism: Just as the mine—initially created by European colonizers—has become a permanent part of life in Costaguana even after independence, Gould is both a local and the embodiment of European economic colonialism.

“Nobody had ever heard of labor troubles then.”

For those in the novel’s chronological present, labor troubles are a modern inconvenience. No one can remember such matters being any issue in the past. Despite what the wealthy elites may think, however, this absence of labor disputes does not mean that the society was equal or egalitarian. Rather, the rise in labor troubles is the product of so many decades of dissatisfaction, rather than a modern inconvenience that is designed to target the wealthy elite.

“It appears to be true that he, too, loved his country.”

While Guzmán Bento may have been a bloodthirsty tyrant, his opponents are willing to accept that he was a patriot. Both sides loudly proclaim their love for the country in any revolution, to the point that the patriotic sentiment loses value. Bento may have loved his country, but he murdered many of his compatriots, as will many of the strong leaders who follow him. Patriotism becomes an excuse for mass violence.

“It was generally believed that with her foreign upbringing and foreign ideas, the learned and proud Antonia would never marry—unless, indeed, she married a foreigner from Europe or North America, now that Sulaco seemed on the point of being invaded by all the world.”

Antonia is expected to be married, but the circumstances of her marriage denote the changing conditions in Sulaco afforded by increased imperial interest in the country. Now, with all the European interest in the remote Latin American port, the increased presence of Europeans and Americans signals the great material interests present in the country. Like the silver in the mines, Antonia is a local resource coveted by Europeans who are looking to consolidate their power in Sulaco by marrying the daughter of the local elite.

“It was then that Martin Decoud, the adopted child of Western Europe, felt the absolute change of atmosphere.”

Decoud feels himself separate from other people in Sulaco. He feels more European, fueled by his arrogance and his elitism. Despite his insistence on being different, however, he is still infused with the energy of change in the country. Whether because of his love of Antonia or because of some innate fascination with revolution, he is drawn into the turmoil of his homeland. He feels the change of atmosphere on an emotional level, showing himself to be a true child of Sulaco.

“There’s enough wealth in Costaguana to pay for everything—or else you would not be here.”

The latest revolution is driven by the inequality brought about by colonial interference in Sulaco. The wealthy (and often foreign) elites horde the wealth for themselves. There is “enough wealth in Costaguana to pay for everything” (120), the elites are told, and the fact that the railway companies and other foreign endeavors are present in Sulaco is evidence enough of this.

“After one Montero there would be another, the lawlessness of a populace of all colors and races, barbarism, irremediable tyranny.”

Montero is not unique. Rather, he is the latest manifestation of political unrest in a region haunted by many such figures. He is a symptom, rather than a cause, of the political turmoil in Sulaco, and until the people of Sulaco recognize this, the political upheaval will continue. There will always be another Montero until the conditions that create such figures are addressed.

“‘Charley an idealist!’ she said, as if to herself, wonderingly. ‘What on earth do you mean?’”

The suggestion that Charles Gould is an idealist shocks his wife. She cannot conceive of her husband in such a manner, which simply illustrates how far they have grown apart. She still views him as the practical, ambitious young man she married. She cannot see how much the mine has come to be his obsession. His youthful pragmatism has mutated into the same focused idealism that took hold of his father.

“He took up the pencil again.”

In Chapter 7 of Part 2, the narrative takes the form of Martin Decoud’s letter to his sister. As fighting grips Sulaco, Decoud takes up his pencil. He is a writer and an intellectual, not a fighter, so this is how he reacts when the town descends into violence. The epistolary form of this chapter reflects his disposition.

“Here was a man, Decoud reflected, that seemed as though he would have preferred to die rather than deface the perfect form of his egoism.”

The novel creates a distance between narrative and character by framing critiques of personality as subjective judgments. The narrative does not pass judgment on Nostromo; rather, the judgment is glimpsed from Decoud’s perspective, influenced by Decoud’s subjective jealousy. He is jealous of Nostromo, which motivates his criticism, though it does not necessarily invalidate it. Rather than providing insight into one character, this provides insight into both.

“As against the mob the railway defended its property, but politically the railway was neutral.”

The railway company (through its representatives) claims to be politically neutral. This claim is patently untrue, however. Instead, the company is disguising self-interest as neutrality. They are politically motivated to support whatever is more profitable. Furthermore, the presence of a foreign business in Sulaco (one which seeks to materially benefit at the expense of the locals) is, inherently, political, even if the company insists that it will not take a side in local politics.

“He became flustered, flushed, and helpless. It was as if the world were coming to an end.”

To Captain Mitchell, the chaos of the revolution seems as though “the world were coming to an end” (235). In a way, the world is ending. The captain’s private understanding of the world, one in which he is a significant figure who rules through Nostromo, is ending. In the new political order, Captain Mitchell will not play as significant a role.

“It is your character that is the inexhaustible treasure which may save us all yet; your character, Carlos, not your wealth.”

Mrs. Gould clings to her belief in the importance and capability of her husband. The situation can be saved, she believes, if everyone could come to see Charles Gould as she sees him. Her optimism is misplaced; she reveals how little she comprehends the true state of her marriage. Charles has grown distant from her due to his obsession with protecting the mine, and she cannot recognize that she is clinging to the memory of the man he was, rather than the man he currently is.

“Dr. Monygham had become, in a manner, the slave of a ghost.”

In a sense, Dr. Monygham is just as much of a ghost as the treasure seekers who haunt the hills. He haunts Sulaco as a living reminder of the cost of the revolution. The torture he suffered in the past and the trauma he continues to bear are a constant presence in the lives of the other residents. When people see him, they are reminded of the toll of the revolutions and how, even if people do not die, the pain endures beyond the formal end of violence.

“Nobody could have guessed that. And yet this was one of the immediate causes of the Monterist Revolution.”

Pedrito’s love of European luxury is an important cause of the revolution. By elevating himself through his brother, General Montero, he hopes to achieve a similar level of wealth and comfort. Yet this motivation is entirely internal; Pedrito’s fondness for luxury will not appear in the history books as an explanation for the revolution. This illustrates the extent to which history—in its machinations and its motivations—can be obscured. The true motivations, those that are most human, are unknowable to some degree because they reside purely inside the minds of the participants.

“The explosives are ready.”

The San Tomé mine is fitted with explosives to prevent it from falling into the hands of the revolutionaries. The explosives are hidden from view, yet ready to alter the course of the country’s future at a moment’s notice. In this way, the mine as a repository of hidden explosive power is a metaphor for the people of the country. Like the mine, the populace is primed and ready to explode. The revolution is this explosion in slow motion.

“Liberals! The words one knows so well have a nightmarish meaning in this country.”

Throughout Nostromo, Charles Gould’s politics are deliberately opaque. His only true guiding principle is his investment in his mine. As the revolution unfolds, however, he cannot help but unleash a torrent of emotional outrage. The so-called Liberals infuriate him, as their vision of progress clashes with his own. Charles Gould is not necessarily against liberalism as a political project, only the extent to which such a project interferes with his own ambitions.

“The doctor was loyal to the mine.”

Dr. Monygham feels a loyalty to the mine, but not as an institution. He is loyal to the mine as a force that offered him the possibility of redemption when he was at his lowest point. Furthermore, his loyalty is truly to Mrs. Gould as an avatar of the mine, rather than to the products, the owners, or the workers of the mine itself. Dr. Monygham cannot deny his attachment Mrs. Gould and her husband’s mine as a vehicle for navigating his own redemption.

“What are your politics and your mines to me—your silver and your constitutions—your Don Carlos this, and Don José that—”

Nostromo and Dr. Monygham are ostensibly working on the same side, yet Nostromo reminds the doctor that their motivations are very different. The men are from two different social classes, so much so that the doctor’s alliance will always be to the same wealthy elites who exploit Nostromo’s bravery and loyalty for their own ends. They are both working for the mine, but they are not driven by the same forces, which will cause their paths to diverge eventually.

“The history of that ride, sir, would make a most exciting book.”

According to Captain Mitchell, Nostromo’s ride across the mountains would “make a most exciting book” (346). Ironically, however, this adventurous period in the revolution is not included in the novel’s narrative. By this time, such heroic deeds have become secondary to the psychodrama and the individual relationships to the silver. Such an adventure is rendered secondary by the characters’ growing obsession with power and wealth.

“You faced the most cruel dangers of all. Something more than death.”

Mrs. Gould empathizes with the trauma of Dr. Monygham’s past. She knows how much he has suffered. This empathy is rare in Sulaco, showing the reason Mrs. Gould has earned the doctor’s loyalty. Whereas others treat him with mistrust, she alone recognizes his fundamental humanity. That she refuses to deny this to him demonstrates why he is loyal to her above everyone and everything else.