The opening chapter of Nostromo establishes the setting, the fictional South American town of Sulaco, as a physical space, describing the unique geography of the region and explaining why and how it is cut off from much of the world. The land is rich in both culture and resources. The same geography that limits outside contact also makes it appealing to outsiders. People come to Sulaco in search of wealth, hoping to find an undiscovered land of untapped resources, while erasing the humanity of those who already live there. Sulaco is a living community, but it is treated as a mysterious fantasy by outsiders and the narrative itself. Amid this fantastical framing of Sulaco, the chapter also introduces the motif of ghosts and haunting. The legend of “tenacious gringo ghosts” (6)—treasure-seekers who died of thirst and are now doomed to remain rich and thirsty forever—is emblematic of this fetishization of Sulaco and its resources. These men paid their lives in a quest for riches; they now haunt the landscape itself, reminding everyone of the cost of greed. The story of the ghosts and the emphasizing of Sulaco as a physical space also serve to foreshadow the fate of Nostromo himself, a man who seems immune to the common sins of humanity but who will eventually succumb to the same temptations as everyone else.

Key to the depiction of life in Sulaco is the centrality of the Oceanic Steam and Navigation company (OSN). The shipping line is an intrusive force in Sulaco, described as having induced “to violence the sanctuary of peace” (9) that is Sulaco. The OSN as a force of European imperialism is evident in the names of the ships: They are all given names from European mythology, so that Sulaco is governed by the foreign, unfamiliar “gods of Olympus” (9). The technological advancements that make these shipping lanes possible reflect the external development imposed on Sulaco. The company is a profit-seeking venture; though they frame their presence in Sulaco as opening new trade networks, they are better described as linking Sulaco into existing networks of exploitation, highlighting The Damaging Effects of Colonial Capitalism. The shipping line is run for the profit of outsiders, just as the railway and the silver mine will be. The purpose of all these transportation networks is to facilitate the removal of wealth from the community. Just as the opening chapter emphasized the importance of Sulaco as a physical space, the secondary focus on the shipping line illustrates how this physical space is being exploited for the benefit of people from other places.

Introducing Sulaco also means introducing the “generally stormy” (10) political atmosphere of the region. The repeated changes in political governance and the frequent revolutions suggest that Sulaco and Costaguana are, in some way, naturally disposed toward political violence and chaos. The violence and chaos seem ubiquitous, particularly from a European perspective. This is why men such as Captain Mitchell, who are financially and culturally invested in the colonial exploitation of Sulaco, value people like Nostromo, a consummate manager who can ensure profits despite political turmoil. Nostromo is, according to Mitchell, “a fellow in a thousand” (11). Born into the working classes, he has lifted his fortunes by serving as an adjunct to capital—using his skill in management and logistics to aid in capital’s exploitation of human and natural resources. His position is evidence of The Hidden Foundations of Class Inequality. A natural leader disadvantaged by an unequal system, he finds himself using his talents not to make that system more equitable but to make himself useful to the ruling class. Again and again, people in power describe Nostromo as “indispensable”—a motif that highlights the trap in which he is already unwittingly caught.

Even though the novel is named for Nostromo, he is not directly introduced in the opening chapters. Instead, the narrative focuses on the region, then the economic activity, then the perspective of people who praise Nostromo with glowing words for his ability to preserve economic stability in such an unstable region. The repeated positive mentions of his name create a sense of tension and expectation, right up until he bursts through the hotel door in heroic, dramatic fashion. In a metaphorical sense, Nostromo—unseen—hammers his fist with a “violent blow” (18) against the boarded-up door until he bursts in to introduce himself to the audience.