Decoud's letter in this chapter is one of the novel's two long interruptions by surrogate voices, the other being Captain Mitchell's tour in Chapter 3-10. On one level, the letter is a device to relate succinctly a great deal of action. On another level, it serves to reinforce the theme of universal subjectivity, depriving us of the omniscient narrator and reminding us that there is no such thing. On yet another, it illustrates the theme of speech as power, in which the "facts" of history are determined by their "dictator," the person with the power to speak them. In this regard, Captain Mitchell's complacent, polished history of the revolution contrasts with and as it were erases Decoud's exhausted, skeptical and more realistic account from within it.

In the course of the letter, we finally cross the line from the 'present tense' of the riot that opened the novel. The departure into the Gulf that follows is a new chronology, in which the only future event we know of is the distant triumph of the material interests. This departure from nested flashbacks and foreknowledge, into a straight timeline with an uncertain future, takes us as it were out of historical time, a process that mirrors the breakup of society and information as the Separation theme continues. The momentum of Separatism is seen to overrun Decoud's plan and lead to the collapse of all unity.

It is also in this chapter that Nostromo, the title character, finally steps into center stage. He does so heralded by warning -- a comment in Decoud's letter to the effect that his traditional role no longer satisfies him -- and by prophesy -- a deathbed curse from Teresa. With Decoud aboard the lighter, we receive hints that he is becoming a changed man.