There are of course varying opinions of Conrad's prose style. Some critics would call it stagnant and cloying instead of flowing and rhythmic. However, a careful reading of "The Lagoon" can isolate what those who tend to the flowing and rhythmic opinion would point out as demonstrative of this stylistic quality.

Right at the beginning of the story, a descriptive passage setting forth the surroundings may be well categorized as flowing and rhythmic:

At the end of the straight avenue of forests cut by the intense glitter of the river, the sun appeared unclouded and dazzling, poised low over the water that shone smoothly like a band of metal. The forests, sombre and dull, stood motionless and silent on each side of the broad stream. At the foot of big, towering trees, trunkless nipa palms rose from the mud of the bank, in bunches of leaves enormous and heavy, that hung unstirring over the brown swirl of eddies.

These descriptive sentences rhythmically flow one into the other with ease. The first sentence addresses the "avenue of forests" providing an overview of the landscape, which is interrupted by the "glitter of the river." The second sentence establishes the mood of the landscape, a mood derived from specifics and particulars: "somber and dull ... motionless and silent." The third sentence narrows the focus of the rhythmic flow of prose to individual trees and leaves that draw the focus even tighter by showing the leaves as "unstirring over the brown swirl of eddies."

Incidentally, a section that might point out the opposing opinion of Conrad's prose occurs just prior to the one discussed above:

The white man, leaning with both arms over the roof of the little house in the stern of the boat, said to the steersman ...  The Malay only grunted, and went on looking fixedly at the river. The white man rested his chin on his crossed arms and gazed at the wake of the boat.

In Conrad's "The Lagoon," single out some of the lines that demonstrate the flowing, rhythmic quality of the prose.

Conrad's prose in a number of his works is remarkable for its rhythmic, flowing qualities, and this is nowhere more apparent than in the initial description of the setting in this story, where he deliberately sets out to create an impression of a place untouched by the ravages of time and where civilisation in the form of white man has had negligible effect. The emphasis in such description is to conjure up a world that is almost Edenic in its presentation. Consider, for example, the following description:

The forests, sombre and dull, stood motionless and silent on each side of the broad stream. At the foot of big, towering trees, trunkless nipa palms rose from the mud of the bank, in bunches of leaves enormous and heavy, that hung unstirring over the brown swirl of eddies. In the stillness of the air every tree, every leaf, every bough, every tendril of creeper and every petal of minute blossoms seemed to have been bewitched into an immobility perfect and final.

The repetition in the final line of the word "every" serves to emphasise the "stillness" and the sense of "bewitched.. immobility" that is said to be "perfect and final." The prose itself lulls the reader into a sense of this stillness through the long sentences, punctuated regularly by commas as if to slow down the reader. The numerous adjectives likewise work to create the rhythmic prose. There are no short, direct sentences that would break up this rhythm. The reader is given the feeling that they are entering a place that is as old as time itself, and Conrad thus prepares the reader for hearing the story-within-a-story that captures the life of Arsat and the conflict that love brings.