But my objector was not placated.These were good reasons for not writing at all--not a defense of what stood written already,he said.
I admit that almost anything,anything in the world,would serve as a good reason for not writing at all.But since I have written them,all I want to say in their defense is that these memories put down without any regard for established conventions have not been thrown off without system and purpose.They have their hope and their aim.The hope that from the reading of these pages there may emerge at last the vision of a personality;the man behind the books so fundamentally dissimilar as,for instance,"Almayer's Folly"and "The Secret Agent,"and yet a coherent,justifiable personality both in its origin and in its action.This is the hope.The immediate aim,closely associated with the hope,is to give the record of personal memories by presenting faithfully the feelings and sensations connected with the writing of my first book and with my first contact with the sea.
In the purposely mingled resonance of this double strain a friend here and there will perhaps detect a subtle accord.
J.C.K.