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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Mirror of the Sea by Joseph Conrad: went ashore. He was certainly not more than thirty, and the
elderly mate, with a murmur to me of "That's my old man," proceeded
to give instances of the natural unhandiness of the ship in a sort
of deprecatory tone, as if to say, "You mustn't think I bear a
grudge against her for that."
The instances do not matter. The point is that there are ships
where things DO go wrong; but whatever the ship - good or bad,
lucky or unlucky - it is in the forepart of her that her chief mate
feels most at home. It is emphatically HIS end of the ship,
though, of course, he is the executive supervisor of the whole.
There are HIS anchors, HIS headgear, his foremast, his station for
The Mirror of the Sea |
