Conrad is the master of death by the failure of an individual's ideals. Very modern in its deep subjectivity and carefully modulated jumps in time and perspective, it seems to grow steadily in it's compassion as it goes until it ends with a few momentous yet quiet cracks of bitterness and one heartrending cry. Other than the corrupting influence of wealth and some of Conrad's nasty, racist views wrapped up with it, in my limited view (having just finished it and not read criticism or let it sit to contemplate it for a while) there are no 'lessons,' let alone easy truths, offered here. Using various subjective, 3rd person narrative voices, socialistic viewpoints are given their place next to those of the aristocracy and the bourgeois. Something else extremely interesting to me as someone who's previously only read Heart of Darkness--in which I found pretty much zero levity both times I read it--is the almost incongruous mix of what seems like nearly naive romantic adventure and whimsical humor with the blackest, most world-weary irony and cynicism kept slightly in check by a genuine admiration for ideals, even while recognizing the grave danger they can pose and their failure. That Orson Welles loved Conrad now makes even more sense.