In Mr. Vladimir's early dialogue with Verloc, Conrad weaves together personification and situational irony. As he harangues Verloc about the need to “shake things up,” Mr. Vladimir expounds:
“England lags. This country is absurd with its sentimental regard for individual liberty. [...] England must be brought into line. [...] I suppose you agree that the middle classes are stupid?’
Mr. Verloc agreed hoarsely.
‘They are.’
‘They have no imagination. They are blinded by an idiotic vanity. What they want just now is a jolly good scare.”
As Mr. Vladimir outlines his ambitions for terrorist action, he personifies England as a living being faltering under the weight of its own sentiments. In this instance, personification transforms England into a sentient character—capable of emotions, of lagging, and of holding "sentimental regard" for ideals. Vladimir perceives “England's” cherishing of individual liberties as a form of stagnation. He sees this idea of too many “individual liberties” and its concurrent self-satisfaction and feelings of safety as being inherently bad. He wishes to disrupt it by any means necessary.
The situational irony here lies in two places. The first is the fact that Vladimir, a diplomat representing a foreign power, actually has no idea what is going on in the United Kingdom. Indeed, in the passage which directly follows this one, he gives an account of what he believes is happening that is so misinformed and inaccurate that it fills Verloc with “silent consternation.” Even though he has no real experience with the “middle classes,” and doesn’t understand English politics, Vladimir presumes to understand and critique them as “stupid” and “blinded by an idiotic vanity.”
Furthermore, his desire for Verloc to "shake up" the middle class seems to omit the fact that Verloc himself is a member of that class. When Vladimir asks him if he agrees that the “middle classes are stupid,” he’s also implying that Verloc is himself “stupid.” Verloc, listening to him rail ignorantly against English society, is forced to agree “hoarsely” that this is the case.
As Verloc walks around London, Conrad leverages situational and verbal irony to juxtapose his idealistic vision of “opulence and luxury” with the reality of the city's corruption. As Verloc strolls along the streets on his way to the Russian embassy, the narrator tells readers that:
He surveyed through the park railings the evidences of the town’s opulence and luxury with an approving eye. All these people had to be protected. Protection is the first necessity of opulence and luxury. They had to be protected; and their horses, carriages, houses, servants had to be protected; and the source of their wealth had to be protected in the heart of the city and the heart of the country; the whole social order favorable to their hygienic idleness had to be protected against the shallow enviousness of unhygienic labour.
The situational irony of the passage lies in Verloc’s own understanding of how he fits into this world. Verloc, who himself is not particularly wealthy, gazes at these extreme manifestations of London’s wealth with a sense of entitlement. His role in the preservation of this societal structure is paradoxical. While he aspires to be part of this opulence, his position is not within its ranks but as an external protector of its “idleness.” As an inherently “idle” character himself, he feels a sense of kinship and protectiveness toward “all these people.” This underscores the disparity between his desires and his actual standing in society. He likes this “opulence and luxury” with its “hygienic idleness” so much that he will perform “unhygienic labour” in order to protect it. One might think, given his role, that Verloc would feel resentful of this extreme wealth. However, he is instead soothed and cheered by it.
The phrase "hygienic idleness" rings with verbal irony, as does the narrator’s tone throughout this passage. It implies a kind of cleanliness or purity associated with not working. The narrator sarcastically implies that the people living in “opulence and luxury” have to be “protected” from working. The “shallow enviousness” of labor is undesirable, here, and the “hygienic” opulence of wealth framed as needing “protection.”
Conrad utilizes both visual imagery invoking prison and situational irony to depict Michaelis's complicated feelings about writing his Autobiography of a Prisoner. Having retreated to the countryside, Michaelis holes himself up with his work:
It was like being in prison, except that one was never disturbed for the odious purpose of taking exercise according to the tyrannical regulations of his old home in the penitentiary. He could not tell whether the sun still shone on the earth or not. The perspiration of the literary labour dropped from his brow. A delightful enthusiasm urged him on.
Conrad's portrayal of Michaelis's experience is full of visual references to incarceration. Describing his voluntary situation as "like being in prison" evokes the tight confines of the cramped cottage he’s in. The visual imagery of smallness and imprisonment does more than paint a vivid picture of Michaelis's emotional state, however. It also offers readers a window into the psychological confines that this fragile, sensitive character faces. Michaelis is traumatized by his previous time in prison but can only complete his writing if he imprisons himself in this way.
The added detail about his uncertainty over the sun's presence further amplifies this picture of solitude. Michaelis has retreated so far from the world that he’s unsure if “the sun still shone on the earth.”
The situational irony of this passage is woven into the narrative through Michaelis's perception of prison “exercise.” Prisoners are usually confined to small cells and allowing them time to be outside and to exercise would generally be viewed as a necessary break from the monotony of prison life. Instead, Michaelis sees this “exercise” as "odious," a chore rather than a reprieve. While he was imprisoned, he resented being forced into “taking exercise,” and is glad not to have to when he’s alone in the country cottage.
There’s a further layer of situational irony in this passage given its context. Just before this, the author describes an intense discussion between Inspector Heat and the Assistant Commissioner about potentially arresting Michaelis. Heat believes he was involved in the London explosion and wants to arrest him. The Commissioner thinks this is a bad idea, especially as he’s already aware of Michaelis’s location and activities—the man has effectively imprisoned himself already, and he's protected by an important patroness.
Mr. Verloc thinks about how unlucky it was that Winnie sewed Stevie's address into his coat, which is the evidence that identifies it to the police when he’s killed. Conrad emphasizes the situational irony of the mishap with an explanatory simile:
The position was gone through no one’s fault really. A small, tiny fact had done it. It was like slipping on a bit of orange peel in the dark and breaking your leg.
The simile in this passage is a seemingly simple one. The narrator likens Mr. Verloc's unexpected and significant misfortune, caused by a small mistake, to "slipping on a bit of orange peel in the dark and breaking your leg." This comparison relates a small, seemingly insignificant action or event to more substantial, unforeseen consequences. The act of slipping on a fruit peel is typically viewed as comical. However, it takes on a darker tone when juxtaposed with the serious outcome of breaking one's leg. Small mistakes, Conrad implies, can be extremely serious. In the same vein, Winnie’s seemingly small, loving act of sewing Stevie's address into his coat leads to catastrophic outcomes for her family. This is one of many moments in The Secret Agent when small actions have disproportionately large consequences.
The situational irony in this scene is rooted in Mr. Verloc's acknowledgment of the unexpectedness of his predicament. Winnie sews Stevie’s address into the lining of his coat because he’s cognitively impaired: in Chapter 1 there’s an incident where it “becomes apparent that Stevie had forgotten his address” and he can’t get home. Winnie makes sure he can’t lose his address because she wants to keep him safe. Ironically, the address is the only thing that can identify him after he triggers the bomb and is exploded. Winnie’s husband saw the address-sewing as a small, insignificant detail, much like one would view an orange peel on the ground. Yet, this minor oversight leads to the identification of Stevie's body and the unraveling of Verloc’s plans. As such, the situational irony lies in the disproportionate consequences of such a small act. The seemingly harmless act of sewing an address into a coat morphs into a pivotal, tragic turning point for the Verloc family.
By the end of the novel, Ossipon is a shadow of his former self, abandoning his once fiery revolutionary convictions. Conrad uses situational irony and the idiom of the "sandwich board" to portray Ossipon's fall from revolutionary grace and his bleak prospects. Despondent and lost, Ossipon expresses his grim outlook:
‘I am seriously ill,’ he muttered to himself with scientific insight. Already his robust form, with an Embassy’s secret-service money (inherited from Mr. Verloc) in his pockets, was marching in the gutter as if in training for the task of an inevitable future. Already he bowed his broad shoulders, his head of ambrosial locks, as if ready to receive the leather yoke of the sandwich board.
The situational irony here is intense. Ossipon, once a fiery revolutionary, is now totally diminished by Winnie's death. The cowardly choices he made, which he believes were a major factor in her suicide, have mentally unhinged him. The reader might expect him to use the money he has stolen or his connections with the anarchists to perform further acts of disruption. Instead, he “bows” his head in shame as he prepares to “marc[h] in the gutter.” "I am seriously ill," he reflects introspectively, hinting at his spiraling mental state. Even though he has the ill-gotten money from Verloc, Ossipon envisions a future where he's reduced to meandering aimlessly along city streets. This image of Ossipon "marching in the gutter" not only denotes his downfall but also the erosion of his principles and ideals.
The idiom "sandwich board" refers to a type of advertising placard worn over the shoulders. In the Victorian period, people wearing sandwich boards would walk around cities as living advertisements for the brands or events the “boards” described. This image further underscores Ossipon’s total degradation. Now, instead of championing change and rebellion, or using his physical body as a tool to undermine the work of his capitalist enemies, he will use it to advertise their goods and services. Far from being an author of highly academic political pamphlets, he sees his “inevitable future” as being quite the opposite. Indeed, he seems destined to become a literal poster-boy for capitalism, a tragic twist of fate.