Belgian Congo (circa 1890)
Continental View of Africa
Democratic Republic
of Congo
(modern day)
Heart of Darkness
Congolese
Witch-Doctor Mask
Jungle Setting
Joseph Conrad
(1857-1924)
Congolese Natives
Aerial view of the Congo River
Priceless Ivory Sculpture
As Marlow would have seen it . . .
(Heart of Darkness: Overview of the Novel)
Question or Concern
Answer or Explanation
Is Conrad a British novelist?
Yes and No . . . Conrad was born in Poland, but at the
age of 16, he fled to England in an attempt to escape
the influence of Tsarist Russia. Earlier in his life,
his father had participated in a failed rebellion against
Tsarist influence in his homeland—Podolia
(currently located in modern-day Ukraine). His father
was actually imprisoned as a result of his political
endeavors, and when Conrad was five years old, his
family had been exiled to Vologda, a town a few
hundred miles north of Moscow. It is noteworthy that
the climate in Vologda is notoriously cold. It is not
difficult to imagine why young Conrad would want to
strike out on his own, far away from the tsars.
What were Conrad’s most influential
literary influences in his early years?
1.) French novelist Victor Hugo’s narratives about
sea travels and exploits piqued his sense of
adventure.
2.) The Bard of Avon (Shakespeare, of course) . . .
What great writer has not been charmed by
his work? (rhetorical )
3.) Polish Romantic Poetry (1820-1863). The January
Uprising (against Russia) effectively ended Polish
Romanticism and began a more politically
progressive literary movement known as Positivism.
It might be interesting to pause here and speculate
on Conrad’s thoughts regarding the validity of
political sentiment as an impetus for literature.
Could his lasting fondness for Romanticism give us
another layer of insight as to his desire to escape the
political strife of Eastern Europe and take up
residence in England?
In light of Conrad’s fondness for Romantic
literature, can we then categorize his work
as Romantic as well?
No, we should not make that leap. While his work
clearly contains many Romantic elements, critics
see his work primarily as MODERNIST1. Please see the
footnote below, but you must also know that
MODERNIST fiction is characteristically despondent in
nature. The essentially message that emerges from
these texts concerns the absurdity and pointlessness of
life in an uncaring universe. “Man Alone” (personal
alienation) is a prevalent theme—along with “the
impossibility of meaningful communication” and the
“impossibility of love as a source of salvation.”
To what religion did Conrad ascribe?
Conrad’s father was fiercely Christian, so we may
assume that he was well-“versed” in Biblical Scripture.
However, in adulthood, he shied away from any
dogmatic religious philosophy, instead defining himself
as a Humanist.
How is Heart of Darkness representative
of popular turn-of-the-century Western
literature?
1.) This novel was published at the height of British
imperial dominance in the world. Marlow sees
imperial conquest as a positive force in the world.
As the outer frame of the narrative begins, he is
telling his Congo adventure story to a group of
other men, as they all sit on a boat that is moored
on the Thames. The novel’s connection to England
is obvious—despite the fact that its author is not
really English.
1
MODERNISM: The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms defines Modernism as "a general term applied retrospectively to
the wide range of experimental and avant-garde trends in the literature (and other arts) of the early 20th century . . . Modernist
literature is characterized chiefly by a rejection of 19th-century traditions and of their consensus between author and reader:
conventions of realism . . . or traditional meter. Modernist writers tended to see themselves as an avant-garde disengaged from
bourgeois values, and disturbed their readers by adopting complex and difficult new forms and styles. In fiction, the accepted
continuity of chronological development was upset by Joseph Conrad, Marcel Proust, and William Faulkner, while James Joyce and
Virginia Woolf attempted new ways of tracing the flow of characters' thoughts in their stream-of-consciousness styles. In poetry,
Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot replaced the logical exposition of thoughts with collages of fragmentary images and complex allusions.....
Modernist writing is predominantly cosmopolitan, and often expresses a sense of urban cultural dislocation, along with an
awareness of new anthropological and psychological theories. Its favoured techniques of juxtaposition and multiple point of view
challenge the reader to reestablish a coherence of meaning from fragmentary forms."
2.) Exploration accounts were quite popular at the
time, and those that concern journeys into Africa
typically portray the indigenous peoples there as
simplistic, savage, and somewhat animalistic. This is
precisely why Chinua Achebe decided to write
Things Fall Apart; he conceived it as an “answer” to
the crude and erroneous vision of African life and
people that were presented in those earlier texts.
Are there any real-life events or experiences
that seem to have informed this text?
Yes, we should highlight four particular concerns here:
1.) Always taken with the romance of sea adventures,
Conrad took many nautical jobs in his adulthood.
One such job was a position as captain on a Belgian
steamboat expedition up the Congo in 1890. From
several accounts we can surmise that this
experience proved psychologically draining for
Conrad.
Here we have a photograph of the
vessel that Conrad commanded on
his expedition in the Congo.
2.) King Leopold II of Belgium sought to make a fortune
by forming a trading company that dealt in African
rubber drawn from trees along the Congo. He
claimed to have sponsored this venture with the
lofty goal of saving the indigenous peoples from the
evils of slavery. On the contrary, his efforts ended
up having the opposite effect. The natives suffered
greatly at the hands of his men, who were
notoriously cruel and manipulative. The
punishments they dealt out were quite Draconian2.
Some estimates of the death toll among the natives
reach as high as 10 million. Leopold became
unbelievably wealthy as a result of the heightened
demand for tires for the newly invented
automobile. Clearly, rubber was an essential
resource. In Heart of Darkness, ivory takes its place.
(Left) photograph of King Leopold II . . .
(Right) in a contemporary political cartoon
3.) Leon Rom, a Belgian administrator on the Congo,
might well have inspired the character of Kurtz.
This name is notorious for his sociopathic cruelty.
He is said to have adorned the outside of his
dwelling hut with severed native heads.
2
Draconian: extremely severe or overly harsh. This word gets its name from Draco, an Ancient Greek legislator who drafted a set of
laws that punished wrongdoing in horribly cruel and unforgiving ways.
4.) Young Conrad was quite fond of Robert Lewis
Stevenson’s “Pacific” novels and short stories—
which (obviously) are set in the South Seas. Many
of these stories are populated with megalomaniacs
who intimidate and abuse indigenous populations.
Here are a few of Conrad’s favorites:
What seems to be Conrad’s opinion of
imperialism?
Critic Abdullatif Al-Khaiat, in his scholarly paper “Joseph
Conrad: Defender or Condemner of Imperialism,” says
that Conrad seems rather ambivalent. On the one hand,
he holds Kurtz up as an example of how the evils of
imperialism can destroy an otherwise brilliant and
promising life. Still, his presentation of the Congolese
natives is one-dimensional and condescending at best.
My thought is that Conrad felt himself to be an
enlightened thinker when it came to such matters, but
he was also a product of his time. Within his thinking
seems to be an impenetrable sense of racial and social
hierarchy that he never really sheds . . . a sense of
“White Man’s Burden”3 Please read both the related
footnote below and the text of Kipling’s poem that
appears in APPENDIX 1.
MAJOR THEMES:
1.) The Inherent Evil that Resides in Mankind
2.) Madness as a Product of Unrestrained Power
3.) Isolation and Alienation
3
White Man’s Burden: Farlex defines this term thusly: “The supposed or presumed responsibility of white people to govern and
impart their culture to nonwhite people, often advanced as a justification for European colonialism.” The name derives from the
title of a poem by Rudyard Kipling, which he composed in reaction to the American take-over of the Phillipines at the end of the
Spanish-American War.
MAJOR MOTIFS:
1.) Darkness: literal, but more importantly, figurative
2.) Spying: This motif promotes a tone of secrecy,
intrigue, mystery, and subterfuge.
Also, isn’t this exactly what readers do all the time?
Legendary film director Alfred Hitchcock believed
that movie audiences are inherently voyeuristic. I
believe the same may be said of novel readers.
Whether Conrad is using the spying motif as a
reflexive device is entirely speculative, however.
MAJOR SYMBOLS:
1.) The Congo River: This river, with its winding paths
and dark, forbidding banks, represents the
frightening journey inward. See APPENDIX 3—Carl
Jung’s Theory of Individuation.
2.) The Jungle: After having studied Hawthorne at
length, I hope you’re not at a loss for this one! The
forest—and even more significantly, the jungle—
represents the human mind released from all
constraint. Kurtz has been residing in the deepest
recesses of the jungle for so long, far from the reach
of “normalizing” society. It should not be surprising
that he has undergone frightening changes.
3.) Fog: Fog traditionally suggests mystery or confusion.
4.) Whited Sepulcher: Conrad uses this term to
“characterize” the Belgian government, whose
imperial aggression in Africa was the cause of such
suffering and destruction. It specifically refers to
Brussels, the capital city of Belgium. This term
constitutes a Biblical allusion (Matthew 23:27).
In this part of Scripture, the focus is clearly
trained on the disingenuous Pharisees, whose
façade of righteousness was grievously hypocritical.
The connection to Brussels, then, is that Leopold
and his minions claimed to have humanitarian goals
in the Congo, while they actually sought only power
and greater fortune.
Matthew 23: 27
Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!
for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed
appear beautiful outward, but are within full
of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness.
5.) Ivory: This is the much-sought-after resource that
has brought the Belgian Company to Africa. Conrad
is clearly substituting it for the rubber that brought
Leopold II’s men to the interior. Ivory is, after all,
more alluring and romantic than rubber. Don’t you
agree?
6.) Kurtz’s Painting: This dark, somewhat unsettling
painting presents a blindfolded woman who is
holding the “torch of justice.” The effect, however,
is an entirely ironic one. There is no justice to be
found in this world dominated by madness, greed,
and cruelty. It is interesting, however, that Justice is
presented as a woman. Very few women appear in
this novel, but when they do, they are onedimensional characters who seem to suggest the
comforting illusions of civilization, goodness, and
love.
6.) The Moirai: The two women who sit and knit in the
company office seem to be a reflection of the Three
Fates in Ancient Greek mythology, otherwise known
as the Moirai. They are goddesses of destiny.
Clearly, their ominous presence in the office just
prior to Marlow’s journey does not bode well for
him.
Is the journey that Marlow undertakes
simply a literal one?
It seems fairly obvious that this is NOT the case. Let’s
look at the title: Heart of Darkness. This novel is about
a man’s journey into the very soul of mankind. As
Marlow steams up the Congo, he is delving deeper and
deeper into the human psyche. The darkness of the
jungle hugging the river on both sides, the darkness of
the water, and the darkness of night all seem to reflect
the frightening depths of human depravity.
Frame Story
This novel is a famous example of frame storytelling.
That is, the narrative has two tiers: (1) An outer tier, in
which a narrator recounts a story—often his/her own
from long ago; and (2) An inner tier, in which the reader
(as well as the fictitious audience hearing the story
directly from the narrator’s lips) receives the “story
proper.” This approach is particularly appropriate with
this novel, since its primary concern is the process of
delving into one’s own mind and finding some truth
hidden there. Here the narrator Marlow is literally
plunging into the past and delving below the surface of
his narrative, reaching some deeper truth buried under
the surface.
APPENDICES
APPENDIX 1: text of Rudyard Kipling’s “White Man’s
Burden”—a poem that he composed in reaction
to America’s seizure of control over the
Phillipines at the conclusion of the SpanishAmerican War.
APPENDIX 2: text and notes on T. S. Eliot’s “The Hollow
Men”
APPENDIX 3: notes on Carl Jung’s Theory of
Individuation. Marlow’s “journey inward” can
easily be seen in these very terms.
(Heart of Darkness: Part I)
Analepsis
Typical of frame stories, Heart of Darkness casts the
primary action well into the past. Marlow’s fateful trip
up the Congo and his harrowing experiences there are
now firmly part of his past. Our name for this sort of
“extended flashback” is analepsis. Its opposite would
be called prolepsis, but that device is far less prominent
in literature. We tend to use this second term as a way
to describe the trope of projecting some future state;
for example, If you cross me, you’re a dead man. The
use of present tense in the independent clause doesn’t
really make sense, unless it’s taken to mean some
possible future condition.
Curious System of Narration
We have two narrators here:
(1.) One of Marlow’s companions—this man
remains nameless
(2.) Marlow himself—clearly the main narrator
Possible Reason for Dual Narration
The central subject-matter of this novel is imperialism
itself. It may well be that Conrad knew that he wanted
to call into question the moral nature of imperialism,
and he wanted to present a variety of perspectives. It
may also be true, as many modern-day critics have
suggested, that Conrad’s own views were less than
entirely clear to himself. Moral ambivalence would
explain the variegated narrator identity.
Significance of Place Setting (England)
Marlow and his companions are sitting aboard the
Nellie, a small boat moored on the Thames. Earlier
in the study guide, we addressed the significance of
Conrad’s choice of England as a personal destination.
He saw that country as a sort of antithesis for the more
oppressive land of his fathers. It would not be much of
a stretch to imagine that he saw it also as a shining
example of human civilization and sophisticated culture.
We do tend of think of England as a land of manners,
delicate customs, exacting language, and an unwavering
sense of decorum and propriety. Marlow’s story will
concern the wild madness that lurks beneath the
veneer of manners and morals. As he prepares to
regale his companions with his Congo experiences, he
asks them to imagine how dark and uncivilized the
Thames must have been prior to Roman occupation. It
seems that he is prefacing his frightening story with a
broad claim that, no matter how civilized a society
seems to be, at its core lurks the same darkness,
ferocity, and depravity that he will soon claim to have
come face-to-face with in the Congo.
Maps
The map seems to be a rather significant symbol here.
Conrad is giving us a nice bit of characterization when
he has Marlow tell us that he had always been taken
with maps—particularly the uncharted territory on
them. So we know that he is an adventurous sort of
person. It would take such a person to volunteer for
such a frightening venture into the unknown. His
journey, we will soon come to understand, goes well
beyond the literal. While he will travel deep into the
Congo, he will simultaneously travel deep into the
“uncharted” and dangerous and frightening regions of
the human mind . . . and “heart.”
Maps (continued)
It might also be interesting to ponder the significance of
the colors Marlow remembers seeing on the map. Each
represents an imperial force at work there. The yellow
patch seems particularly important, since that color
traditionally represents “rot” and “putrefaction” in
literature. However, if you are tempted to think that
Conrad is intent on blaming Belgium more strenuously
than these other imperial powers, you should not go
too far with that contention. After all, each of these
forces is essentially guilty of the same transgressions, so
all are equally culpable.
Snake Simile
Marlow’s contention that the Congo resembles a large
snake on the map is significant. This reptilian metaphor
is perhaps one of the most widely understood in the
annals of literature. Perhaps it is charged with such
negative meaning because of its monumental
importance in the Book of Genesis. Marlow’s use of a
serpentine descriptor for the river delivers a significant
meaning here. All will not be well.
Phrenology
You might think it curious that the doctor wishes to
measure Marlow’s head. Actually, this common
practice of the day was called phrenology. It was quite
popular in the 19th century among medical and
psychological theorists. It rests upon a now-laughable
assumption that the size of the human cranium carries
indications about intelligence and personality. We must
wonder what the doctor hopes to learn about Marlow’s
constitution. Could he perhaps be interested in
determining how strong his resolve is? How well he
might be expected to resist the return of primitive
instincts once he leaves the protective society of his
European home? What his capacity for cruelty and
crime might be? How capable he might be of subduing
and managing the “primitive” peoples that he will
encounter in the Congo?
Fresleven
This is an important character, although we never meet
him. This man has died violently at the hand of tribal
natives, and Marlow is his replacement. Let’s think
about the implications of Marlow’s role as the
replacement for a dead man. We know that Fresleven
had been considered beneficent and kindly before his
journey into Africa. Apparently all of that changed once
he plunged into the “heart of darkness.” The
circumstances of his death are quite telling; the son of a
chieftain slew him after an altercation (which he
initiated) with the young man’s father. Fresleven
presumably went from kind to brutish as a result of the
transformative effects of the locale. This does not bode
well for Marlow—or for any of the other imperial
authorities plundering Africa.
Early Stages of Marlow’s Journey
We should remember a few elements of Marlow’s early
journey:
1.) Marlow comes into contact with a variety of
European characters. The vessel that he first
boards is French, and then he has an interesting
conversation with a Swede. Later he will encounter
a Russian and a German. Marlow himself is English.
This sundry group of nationalities is most likely
meant to suggest that the blame for the evils of
imperialism should be ascribed to many countries—
not just one.
2.) The French war ship that Marlow witnesses is
repeatedly firing on an empty patch of African
coastline. This seems to be an exercise in futility,
but it might also be seen as a symbolic assault on
Africa, its people, and its resources. Later, we’ll see
a similar scene where idle company workers are
aimlessly firing artillery into a cliff side. Both
scenarios are somewhat otherworldly—almost as
though one would rarely witness such a thing
outside of a fevered dream. The oneiric effects are
indeed substantial; in fact, Marlow says that this
part of his journey seemed somewhat nightmarish.
3.) When Marlow reaches the Outer Station, he finds a
wasteland of machinery and people. Dying natives
are languishing miserably in the shade.
4.) Waiting is another mini-motif in this novel. For ten
days Marlow waits at the Outer Station, and in that
time, his curiosity about Kurtz develops and
intensifies.
Kurtz
This character is arguably the most important one in the
whole novel—even more crucial than the narrator
himself. The Accountant at the Outer Station is the first
to mention him, and his manner in doing so helps to
construct an aura of mystery and intrigue. This aura will
gradually intensify as Marlow draws closer and closer to
the inner station. This name Kurtz is Germanic; thus the
“European cast of characters” grows larger.
Significance of the Accountant’s
Clothing and Appearance
The Accountant should be read as a character who
represents the attempts of the Belgian company to
appear morally upright and maintain a “spotless”
reputation—while plundering and pillaging all the while.
Movement to the Central Station
Marlow travels about two-hundred miles further into
the Congo in order to reach the Central Station, where
he expects to take command of the vessel he will pilot
to the Inner Station. While this movement is literal, it
also has a figurative element. The commander of the
Central Station is a rather strange figure—one who
seems a bit shrouded in mystery. He has been
responsible for sinking Marlow’s vessel, and we will
later come to suspect that this was no accident. He
doesn’t seem particularly authoritative, but he does
execute a certain degree of authority as a result of his
unsettling personal manner, coupled with a natural
resistance to the physical maladies that so easily plague
the others—malarial fevers and such.
Stasis
Again, we should note that waiting is a mini-motif here.
Marlow’s delay at the Central Station lasts for a
seemingly interminable time, during which he
senses that all is not as it seems here. Any student of
psychology understands that idle time can accentuate a
mania. Marlow hasn’t yet developed an obsession with
Kurtz, but he appears to be well on the way.
Spying
Another of our controlling motifs comes into focus as
Marlow, hidden from view, eavesdrops on a
conversation between the Station Manager and the
Brickmason. The subject, of course, is Kurtz. Lurking in
the shadows and listening for information is a rather
underhanded thing to do; it is indicative of
unwholesome motives and a deceptive demeanor.
Could it be that Marlow is showing the first signs of
moral degeneration as a result of his environment and
situation? Or is Conrad simply using this scene as a
means of delivering information to the reader—in much
the same fashion that a confidante receives information
so that the reader may benefit?
Kurtz’ Painting
Please review the relevant notes in the Overview. Also,
I will make two further comments here:
1.) The very existence and substance of the painting
are an indication that Kurtz is indeed a breed apart.
He is not merely another mindless tyrant—of which
there seems to be no shortage in this novel. While
he may have changed as a result of his separation
from “civilized” Europe, this painting shows us that
he once had an artist’s sensitive nature. This
conclusion is surely in line with the bits of
information Marlow has gleaned from others who
have spoken of him.
2.) Critics have interpreted this painting as an
indictment of the hypocritical imperial forces,
which simultaneously claim to seek “justice” for
Africa and steal mercilessly from her land and
people. It is not at all clear whether Kurtz is one of
those hypocritical thieves or someone who realizes
that the European position is a disingenuous one.
Hollowness
Be sure to grasp the significance of Conrad’s many
references to voids, hollowness, and facades. He
describes several men as empty—papier mâché figures
with no substance under the outer shell.
At this point, please consider/study APPENDIX 2 in
detail. There you will find a famous poem by T. S.
Eliot. He wrote it in reaction to a specific passage
toward the end of this novel. This poem concerns the
theme of spiritual vapidity. The despondency of
Conrad’s vision corresponds perfectly to the sense of
alienation and isolation that the Modernist movement
would soon bring to the mainstream of the world’s
literature—not just England’s or America’s.
(Heart of Darkness: Part II)
Spying
Again we see Marlow eavesdropping, but this time he
indignantly reveals himself when he realizes that the
manager and his uncle are speaking disparagingly and
duplicitously about Kurtz. One has to wonder why he
decides to reveal himself in this instance, when he was
clearly unwilling to do so in the earlier instance with the
Brickmason. Perhaps he has begun to identify with
Kurtz and takes the ill talk of him as a personal affront.
The “Pilgrims”
This is an odd term to use in reference to the company
men, who are clearly not motivated by any moral or
religious desire to benefit mankind. Marlow confesses
to using the term as a result of the mens’ appearance
(their walking staves), but the effect is noteworthy. It
seems rather heavy-handedly ironic. Don’t you agree?
The Native Crewmen
Marlow resumes his journey into the heart of the
jungle, following the Congo to the Inner Station, where
Kurtz lives. A group of cannibal natives accompanies
him, but they don’t seem savage at all. They are
helpful, respectful, and orderly.
A Hearkening Back to Prehistoric Times
This comment that Marlow makes about his impression
of the African continent and its peoples is worth
mentioning here, as this is precisely the attitude that
Chinua Achebe finds so loathsome. Here is the impetus
for our final novel in Part III—Things Fall Apart.
Marlow’s “generous” speculation that the uneducated
cannibal natives aboard his boat have much in common
with uneducated Englishmen doesn’t really do much to
quell the criticism of this novel as a text that essentially
assumes a rather haughty sense of Western superiority.
The Hut, the Book, and the Note
About three days before finally reaching the Inner
Station, Marlow and his men dock their boat before a
curious little hut on the shoreline. They find a stack of
wood, which an accompanying note claims is intended
for their use. The note also cautions them to be
especially watchful, as there is much danger in these
last few miles. Marlow also finds a mariner’s notebook
inside the hut. All seems to be arranged for his benefit.
The Fog
Fog is a traditional symbol of confusion, and it certainly
must carry such a meaning here, but its significance is
really more complicated than that. Let’s consider three
additional points of significance:
1.) The fog is indicative of the last veil to be pushed
aside before Individuation is complete. At this
point, please consider/study APPENDIX 3 in detail.
2.) The fog adds an additional layer of oneiricism,
removing the action of the novel from the realm of
literal reality and plunging it into the realm of
psychological reality—which is the greater concern
here. All seems to be happening in a dream.
3.) The fog contributes to the dramatically macabre
ambiance of the journey.
Significance of Sound
Many aspects of this novel hinge on the idea of
disembodied sound. Marlow frequently speaks of Kurtz
as though he were a persistent voice in his head.
Marlow and his men hear drumbeats and scurrying
movements in the brush. From a purely narrative
perspective, we can acknowledge that the absence of a
visual referent arguably makes the sounds more
frightening, the mood more unsettling, and the
outcome less predictable. Also, whispers and hushed
movements might also suggest the subtle, subconscious
workings of the mind as it moves toward a state of full
Individuation.
The Blood-Filled Shoes
Perhaps the symbolism is a little heavy-handed here,
but it is effective nonetheless. The death of the poor
man at the helm is essentially the result of Marlow’s
expedition; therefore, the fault for his death lies with
Marlow. Also, we should recognize blood as the
universal symbol for life. It is noteworthy that Conrad
(literally) unites the native’s blood with the
protagonist—thus likely indicating that the life force
that stirs each man is the same . . . demonstrating that
social strata separating people are absurd. This may
seem a bit contradictory, given the parameters of our
previous discussion of the author’s tacit assumption of
Western superiority. But such is not the case; Conrad’s
thematic intentions are at odds with this underlying
sense of superiority. Perhaps said assumption is
completely subconscious after all. At worst, we can
perhaps accuse Conrad of ambivalence, but any further
condemnation seems to be inappropriate for any
responsible Historicist4 reading of the text.
4
Historicism: a theory of literary criticism that resists the temptation to judge a text according to a moral, ethical, or structural
standard that came into being at some point after its initial publication. Historicist critics make every effort to assume (to the
furthest extent possible) the same perspective from which the text’s initial audience experienced it.
The “Unspeakable Rites”
A “rite” is a ritual that is imbued with heady meaning—
usually religious in nature. The “unspeakable” rites
associated with Kurtz bring to mind frightening
possibilities. The sickening sight that greets Marlow and
his men as they pull near the Inner Station clarify any
remaining questions as to the specific nature of these
rites. The natives have apparently come to revere Kurtz
as a sort of deity, and as faithful worshippers, they have
performed ghastly sacrifices in his honor. In fact, it is
likely that they have engaged in these activities at the
command of Kurtz himself.
The Russian Trader’s Odd Wardrobe
The chatty Russian trader who greets Marlow’s boat as
it docks at the Inner Station is dress rather outlandishly.
His description brings to mind the image of a clown or
jester. This is perhaps a rather subtle indictment of the
imperialist encroachers on the Congo—foolish, selfdeceived, absurd, and somewhat insane. What do you
think?
Kurtz’ Treatise on the Natives
Considering that Kurtz is a figure who is linked to
“unspeakable rites,” it is rather surprising that he is
seen as a benevolent humanitarian. Then again, that’s
not really all that surprising, given the underlying
thematic structure of this novel. The idea that
resonates throughout the text is that civilization is an
illusion. Madness lies at the heart of mankind—the
“heart of darkness.” While Kurtz’s treatise essentially
concerns the means and benefits of “Westernizing” the
natives, it concludes with a shocking imperative:
“Exterminate all the brutes!” Such is the diametrical
opposite of compassion and kindness. It will be
interesting to see how Marlow deals with this unsettling
postscript in the concluding pages of the novel. You’ll
understand what I mean when you get there.
(Heart of Darkness: Part III)
Kurtz’ Condition
Marlow comes to understand that Kurtz is ill. The
Russian trader who greeted him upon his arrival
provides a little background information that we
should consider. This man tells Marlow that Kurtz has
“enlarged his mind,” and he also attests to the great
power and sway of Kurtz’s voice. Marlow also learns
that Kurtz has grown ill, and the Russian is intent
on having him leave the inner station. The nature of
Kurtz’s illness is rather mysterious, but we should
understand that Conrad intends the physical condition
as a metaphorical reflection of the moral decay that has
beset this once-great man. When Marlow finally sees
Kurtz, as he is carried to the boat, the man’s
physiognomy is rather unsettling.
Venturing into the Forest
We should not casually dismiss the Russian’s claim that
he and Kurtz had camped in the forest. Please recall the
traditional symbolic significance of forests.
Severed Heads
So now we know a little more about the “unspeakable
rites” referred to earlier. Kurtz’s brutality is shockingly
evident now, but perhaps even more interesting is
Marlow’s reaction to the pitiful spectacle of the severed
skulls. His reaction to learning that these are the skulls
of those who dared to rebel against Kurtz’s authority is
rather telling: he laughs. Marlow is looking more and
more like Kurtz’s protégé. In fact, when the manager
confides that Kurtz is suffering a lack of proper
judgment, Marlow quickly offers that he thinks Kurtz is
a great man.
The Reverence of the Natives
The natives at the Inner Station (excepting, of course,
those whose heads are poised on fence spikes) have
great loyalty to Kurtz. They readily do his bidding—
even attacking Marlow’s boat in an effort to repel its
advance. They are a superstitious people who easily
attribute magical, unworldly powers to the “Other.” In
different words, they’ve taken note of Kurtz’s physical
differences from themselves and have come to
interpret his guns and his bluster as evidence of his
“godliness.” It is arguably this unquestioning reverence
that has inspired Kurtz’s degeneration. Is Conrad saying
that we all wish to be worshiped? Is the very state of
being revered/worshiped toxic to the soul?
The Native Queen
This is perhaps the most important feminine figure in
the entire novella. She is regal in appearance, and her
silence simply enhances her imperial bearing. Kurtz has
“decorated” her with ivory ($$$), and he has instilled in
her a sort of authority that makes her threatening in a
sense. But the power that she wields is power that she
has gotten from him. We mustn’t forget that. When
we read Achebe, we will see a diametrically opposite
female figure (Agbala) in that novel, one who is revered
as independently powerful—even by the fiercest of
men. In contrast, Marlow’s appreciation of Kurtz’s
Native Queen is determined by two simple factors:
(1.) The wealth that her attire suggests (wealth = power
= prestige)
(2.) His “civilized” notion that women are pure and
good and that they are the reason for all great male
strivings in the world
Kurtz’s Forest Excursion
I suppose the Russian trader’s story about camping with
Kurtz was an element of foreshadowing. Now the
seeming invalid has mustered the strength to crawl into
the woods. The metaphorical implications are rife:
Kurtz has assumed the position of a lowly beast—
stripped of all dignity and reduced to bare instinct and
an animalistic mien. It would seem that Conrad is
saying that, in the deepest recesses of our minds, we
are all mere beasts, stripped bare of all our pretenses
toward civilization and altruism. The fact that this all
takes place in the dark night makes the mood all the
eerier.
It is also worth noting that Kurtz does not summon the
Natives to dispatch Marlow, although he could easily do
so. Could it be that he spares Marlow because he sees
him as his own protégé? There does seem to be an
abiding understanding between these two men. Don’t
you agree?
Several critics have taken this interpretation further.
They think that Marlow’s interference as Kurtz is
crawling toward the frightful witchdoctor implies that
he has prevented Kurtz from plunging headlong into
unfettered madness. In other words, Marlow has
preserved the last vestige of Kurtz’s humanity. So I
suppose this interpretation would equate Kurtz with the
Freudian Id (“instinctual drives”) and Marlow with the
Superego (the self-critical conscience). Kurtz’s
agreement to return to the ship might, therefore, signal
the Ego—that part of Freud’s model of the psyche that
achieves a “balancing act” with our inner-most
(uncivilized) desires and the managerial conscience.
Kurtz’s Legacy
When the party is delayed because of mechanical
problems with the boat, Kurtz seems frightened that his
legacy will be lost. So he entrusts Marlow with his
papers. Even now that death is near, he is primarily
concerned with his financial accomplishments. His
choice of Marlow as a sort of “power of attorney” is
further evidence that this younger man is cast in the
older man’s image. However, we should note that
Marlow never allows himself to drift as far into the
metaphorical “heart of darkness” as Kurtz has done.
“The horror! The horror!”
These are Kurtz’s famous last words. At this moment
right before his death, he seems to be looking into the
dark recesses of his own life. What lies there is
horrifying to him. One can imagine the heartache that
must result from a final realization that he has lived his
life in a shameful or miserable way.
The Flies
I think it is also significant that a swarm of flies
descends upon the ship’s mess hall at the moment of
Kurtz’s death. Of course, we equate flies with rot and
decay. But they are also frequently associated with
Satan; after all, one of the devil’s names is Beelzebub
(which is translated as “Lord of the Flies”). Has Kurtz
fallen short of salvation? Should we even apply such a
traditional religious paradigm here? Conrad’s previous
reference to “whited sepulchers,” coupled with the
realization that Conrad was raised on a steady diet of
Biblical Scripture, would suggest that we perhaps
should.
Luke 11: 15
But some of them said, He casteth out devils
through Beelzebub the chief of the devils.
Marlow’s Illness
Further supporting a reading of Marlow as Kurtz’s image
in miniature is the mysterious illness he suffers after
Kurtz’s death. He has presumably contracted it from
Kurtz, but the narrator doesn’t die. He lives on to tell
the tale. One is reminded of Ishmael in Herman
Melville’s Moby Dick or the miserable seafarer in
Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient
Mariner.”
Marlow’s Illness (continued)
Reflecting on his escape from death, Marlow muses
that, had he died, he would have had nothing to say in
his last moments. This comment has at least two
possible interpretations:
(1.) Because he has refused to give himself over entirely
to the “darkness” that consumed Kurtz, he would
not have such a moral void to stare into at the end.
(2.) Because he is younger than Kurtz, and because he
had not yet pursued a similar path, he had not had
time to lose himself entirely to the darkness.
The Pursuit of Kurtz’s Papers
Once Marlow returns to Belgium to recuperate, he
receives several visitors whose goal is to retrieve Kurtz’s
papers. He is rather discriminating about what he
releases and to whom. A company representative
receives the treatise on the suppression of the natives,
but it is noteworthy that Marlow is careful to remove
the afterword: “Exterminate all the brutes!” Is Marlow
simply trying to protect Kurtz’s memory? Or does his
moral sense cause him to reject the afterword on
principle?
Kurtz’s “Intended”
Marlow finally visits Kurtz’s fiancée and vacillates in his
emotions regarding her. The very image of her sitting
there before him suggests the delicate, illusory nature
of “civilization.” She is full of misunderstandings and
misinterpretations. She never knew Kurtz at all, yet she
is convinced that she knew him thoroughly. When she
asks for Kurtz’s last words, the still-“civilized” Marlow
mercifully lies to her, telling her that he spoke her name
at the very last. Marlow is annoyed with her naivety,
but he finds himself moved to pity for her. This is why
he tells her the merciful lie.
Modernist Theme of Isolation
When Marlow visits the “Intended,” she asks him a
rather mundane question, but the implications of his
answer are great. She wants to know if Marlow knew
Kurtz intimately. He responds that he knew the man as
well as anyone can ever know another. Although
Conrad’s little novel technically predates the Modernist
Period (1914-1945), Marlow’s response to this innocent
question supports several of the central themes that
define that later period:
1.) “Man Alone”
2.) Spiritual Isolation
3.) Personal Alienation
4.) Impossibility of Meaningful Communication
5.) Impossibility of Love
APPENDIX 1
(text of Rudyard Kipling’s poem “White Man’s Burden”)
The White Man's Burden
(1899)
This famous poem, written by Britain's imperial poet, was a response to the American take-over of the Phillipines after the SpanishAmerican War.
Take up the White Man's burden-Send forth the best ye breed-Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild-Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child.
Take up the White Man's burden-In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.
Take up the White Man's burden-And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard-The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) toward the light:-"Why brought he us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?"
Take up the White Man's burden-The savage wars of peace-Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.
Take up the White Man's burden-Ye dare not stoop to less-Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloke your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
Shall weigh your gods and you.
Take up the White Man's burden-No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper-The tale of common things.
Take up the White Man's burden-Have done with childish days-The lightly proferred laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years
Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgment of your peers!
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go mark them with your living,
And mark them with your dead.
APPENDIX 2
(text and notes on T. S. Eliot’s poem “The Hollow Men,” which was inspired by this novel)
The Hollow Men
Mistah Kurtz-he dead
A penny for the Old Guy
I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us-if at all-not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearerNot that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Notes on “The Hollow Men”:
1. Mistah Kurtz: a character in Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.
2. A . . . Old Guy: a cry of English children on the streets on Guy Fawkes Day, November 5, when they carry straw effigies
of Guy Fawkes and beg for money for fireworks to celebrate the day. Fawkes was a traitor who attempted with
conspirators to blow up both houses of Parliament in 1605; the "gunpowder plot" failed.
3. Those . . . Kingdom: Those who have represented something positive and direct are blessed in Paradise. The
reference is to Dante's Paradiso.
4. Eyes: eyes of those in eternity who had faith and confidence and were a force that acted and were not paralyzed.
5. crossed stave: refers to scarecrows
6. tumid river: swollen river. The River Acheron in Hell in Dante's Inferno. The damned must cross this river to get to the
land of the dead.
7. Multifoliate rose: in Dante's Divine Comedy, paradise is described as a rose of many leaves.
8. prickly pear: cactus
9. Between . . . act: a reference to Julius Caesar: "Between the acting of a dreadful thing/And the first motion, all the
interim is/Like a phantasma or a hideous dream."
10. For . . . Kingdom: the beginning of the closing words of the Lord's Prayer.
APPENDIX 3
(Carl Jung’s Concept of Individuation)
1. INDIVIDUATION: the process whereby the human psyche strives to achieve a state of realization or
completion. This term provides the foundation for Jung’s theories. Roughly, individuation refers to a
progression toward an interior world whereby the external experience of living becomes a series of
opportunities enabling an individual to submerge himself more and more deeply into that which we might
call his “soul.” Jung would be more apt to use the term psyche.
2. This inward journey characteristically involves much conflict because, as Jung contends, neurosis is a
necessary means of accessing this interior world. To dismiss this chaotic process merely as a mental
disturbance is to misunderstand what Jung sees as a universal “impulse” to expand limits and to grow
“spiritually.”
3. Jung believes that all people naturally aspire to such growth—independent of epoch, geographical location,
or any other means of distinguishing one human being’s experience from another’s. In essence he is saying
that the urge to discover and develop the psyche is primal and, therefore, universal.
4. Each conflict an individual encounters on this journey into the psyche furthers his/her movement toward
the goal. At each “psychic disturbance,” the individual must resolve conflict in order to move forward.
“Working through our feelings” in order to “move on with our lives” may be an adequate paraphrase.
5a.) Not only is this drive toward realization universal, but the kinds of conflicts one encounters along the way
are as well. They reveal common patterns called “archetypes,” which actually appear as “stock” images
and/or situations that merely seem unique because of the conditioning we undergo as a result of our
cultural, familial, social and religious conditioning. For instance, the only reason that ancient Mayan fertility
rituals may bear so little obvious resemblance to those of some obscure African tribe is that the specific
experience of living in those respective cultures and eras “dress” the archetype so that it speaks more
directly to the individual’s experience. At the root of both rituals is the desire to reproduce, an urge that
Jung would say is universal and, therefore, archetypal.
5b.) The domineering mother, the jealous lover, the goddess beyond reach, the figure of perfect masculinity
(remember Adonis?), the predatory evil-doer, the“animus” figure, the “anima” figure (a woman who feels
that she can only be complete if she forges a union with a “bad” father figure), the exotic stranger, and the
charlatan are but a few of the archetypal figures that every human being can understand. Together with
universal human motivations, they form what Jung calls the “Collective Unconscious.”
5. Jung believes that word-association inevitably leads to a revelation of unconscious motivations, wishes and
conflicts. In a sense, he advocates “lifting the veil” of civilization to expose the “real life” beneath it.
7. Clairvoyance, or “synchronistic phenomena,” is evidence of the innate human connection to the psyche (the
interior world).
8. Orthodox religion, according to Jung’s theories, imposes unnatural limitations on man’s primal instincts. Yet
he notes myriad connections between sacred texts (Judeo-Christian and otherwise) and the “individuation”
experience. In fact, he was arguably the first to claim that the human psyche, “is, by nature, religious.”