An Outcast of the Islands is my second vel in the absolute sense of the word; second in conception, second in execution, second as it were in its essence. There was hesitation, half-formed plan, vague idea, or the vaguest reverie of anything else between it and Almayer's Folly. The only doubt I suffered from, after the publication of Almayer's Folly, was whether I should write ather line for print. Those days, w grown so dim, had their poignant moments. Neither in my mind r in my heart had I then given up the sea. In truth I was clinging to it desperately, all the more desperately because, against my will, I could t help feeling that there was something changed in my relation to it. Almayer's Folly, had been finished and done with. The mood itself was gone. But it had left the memory of an experience that, both in thought and emotion was unconnected with the sea, and I suppose that part of my moral being which is rooted in consistency was badly shaken. I was a victim of contrary stresses which produced a state of immobility. I gave myself up to indolence. Since it was impossible for me to face both ways I had elected to face thing. The discovery of new values in life is a very chaotic experience; there is a tremendous amount of jostling and confusion and a momentary feeling of darkness. I let my spirit float supine over that chaos.