Heart of Darkness and Imperialism
Or, "Conrad is Not (Necessarily) a Racist and Why It Doesn't Matter"
Heart of Darkness is under attack. Cited as a vilely racist work by detractors, the book has been misused and misrepresented as racist and pro-imperialist work. Yet this sentiment is fundamentally ill-founded. The racist tendencies of the book are apparent in a modern context, but when viewed from the sociological structure of Europe in the early 1900's, this classification fades in relevance. With the passage of the 13th Amendment in the United States in 1865, slavery in name was finally fully abolished throughout the civilized western world. Bondage of African natives, however, continued throughout the era of New Imperialism, lasting from 1870 to 1914, which includes the date of Heart of Darkness' publication in 1899. As such, it seems likely that the people of Europe, perhaps including Conrad, himself a Ukrainian, would still fail to view the situation as a problem. Also notable is the then-recent consolidation of British rule over Southern Africa following their victory over the Boer republics in a war lasting from 1899 to 1902, which must have had an influence on Conrad due to the timing.
Chinua Achebe, essayist and scholar, however, seems to favor the notion that Joseph Conrad was a "thoroughgoing racist" and that Heart of Darkness is merely an extension of his xenophobic beliefs. According to Achebe, Heart of Darkness is "an offensive and deplorable book," one that is erroneously called one of the greatest works of short fiction in the English language - that it should not and cannot be considered a "great work of art." One would think that such a bold claim would be thoroughly supported and researched. Sadly, however, such does not appear to be the case with Achebe's essay, "An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad's Heart of Darkness," written in the 1970's (coincidental with the era of civil war and self-subjugation in the Congo under the dictator Mobutu Sese Seko).
In reality, the questions remain unanswered: did Conrad's work really seek to effect change in the system, simply inform ignorant European masses that this imperialism existed, or is there any sort of social commentary on this issue inherent in the work? Perhaps the only intent is to iterate a story of one man's psychological turmoil as he grapples with himself. Achebe notes this as well, suggesting that, by using Africa as a mere backdrop for Kurtz's mental degeneration, Conrad lessens the value of the natives. The truth, however, is that Africa, and indeed the natives themselves, play as integral a role in the plot as any of the Europeans and Company agents. Though manifest in multiple facets of the book, four arguments in particular support the conclusion that Achebe misinterprets Conrad's work: Marlow's hatred of lies rather than actual people; his general dislike of humanity; the rare, but existent, case in which Marlow elevates the African over the European; and the importance of restraint.
Corruption and Lies:
Marlow's Strongest Objections
While Marlow does refer to the natives as "humans" a number of times, he does not initially act in such a way as to advance this idea in his peers or even indicate that he himself holds the notion himself (although his actions and words in later portions of the novel indicate that he does). Had he remarked on this issue, Achebe would no doubt have been quick to point out any number of instances in which this holds true. Yet Marlow seems to have no opinion on imperialism in itself for much of the novella. What he actually detests is lying - "I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie" (Conrad, 64), he states, "not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appalls me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies - which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world - what I want to forget" (Conrad, 64). This is all - he does not feel superior to or hate the Africans or even the Europeans beyond their general dishonesty. His only apparent grievance against the Company is that it hides its true intent in the Congo - ivory - with the mask of a false philanthropic crusade. The accountant that Marlow meets at the Outer Station of the river, on the other hand, who has kept his clothing in such pristine condition by training a native woman to tend to it, is not derided for subjecting the woman to his will, but rather lauded, for he has "veritably accomplished something" (Conrad, 54). Albeit speaking with the touch of sardonic observance that defines his tone throughout most of the book, Marlow finds honesty in the fact that this man has done something of value with his time, a remarkable exception to the lies of the Company.
Perhaps Achebe thinks that, rather than lies, Marlow hates the natives. Achebe suggests that Marlow holds the same racist and imperialist notions of his peers despite his own indication to the contrary, pointing to the passage in which Marlow remarks on the natives' "humanity - like yours….Ugly" (Conrad, 76). According to Achebe, "herein lies the meaning of Heart of Darkness and the fascination it holds over the Western mind" (Achebe). This fascination he refers to is defined earlier as the need for Western thought to establish Africa as an inferior foil to Europe and therefore a sort of security blanket of self-assurance for Western powers. If Marlow does, as Achebe suggests, hate the African natives, then this certainly would seem a fair passage to point to, and it does, in part, corroborate Achebe's arguments. However, he is only looking at half of what Conrad, through Marlow, is really saying. Achebe appears to only half-read this line, resulting in an interpretation falling far from the true meaning - he concludes that Marlow believes that the African natives' humanity is ugly. Indeed, Conrad is saying this. However, with the qualifying "like yours," Marlow includes not only the natives, but all humanity, represented by the four listeners on the Nellie. The fault of Achebe's argument arises from the fact that he limits the actual meaning of Marlow's words. In essence, yes, Marlow is calling the African native primitive and ugly, but he is not sparing the European this label, either. Rather, by lumping the natives in with the rest of humanity, Marlow is doing more to humanize them than Achebe gives him credit for. In addition, one must consider that no other character besides Marlow or Kurtz is expressly given a name. Surely, if Conrad held the Europeans in such higher esteem than the natives, he would have bothered to name them; that he does not suggests that Conrad does not find one group superior to the other.
Equality of Disdain:
How Conrad Makes Mockery of European Dominance
Having proven that Marlow views the African and the European in equal contempt, it seems appropriate to address the caustic and harsh attitude Marlow has in regards to his fellow Europeans - and iterates through much of the first half of the novella, a point that Achebe conveniently neglects in his arguments.
Prior to Marlow's departure for the Congo, his aunt praises the Company's presence there, speaking of "weaning those ignorant millions from their horrid ways" (Conrad, 48), immediately dismissing Marlow's suggestion that "the Company [is] run for profit" (Conrad, 48). The naïve aunt symbolizes the attitude of much of Western Europe at the time, believing itself the great savior of the African primitives. Here, Marlow does not hint that the Company is wrong to conquer Africa - indeed, his sentiment appears quite neutral - but he does hint that they are perhaps being dishonest in their stated motives. Marlow clearly neither condemns his fellows for their actions in the Congo nor attempts to stop the Company from its reckless conquest of the African natives. Yet, certainly, he does not respect them or find them praiseworthy, either. Indeed, he sees them as "a lot of faithless pilgrims bewitched inside a rotten fence" (Conrad, 60), a mere mass of men "wander[ing] here and there with their absurd long staves in their hands" (Conrad, 60). This connects with Marlow's hatred of lies, discussed previously. For the rest of the novella, Marlow will refer to these men mockingly as pilgrims. Despite their professed intentions in Africa, goodwill and salvation is clearly not their goal.
Yet, for some reason, these pilgrims try to hide, or at least downplay, their actual mission. Marlow notes that "the word 'ivory' [rings] in the air, [is] whispered, [is] sighed. You would think they were praying to it" (Conrad, 60). It is curious that no one ever clearly states that the objective is ivory, although one soul does admit that he is there "to make money, of course" (Conrad, 57). The silent prayers to this god are caught only in passing and never admitted in open. In essence, they are fooling themselves, just like Marlow's aunt and the numerous other believers back in Europe, making their own minds trust a fabrication that might justify what amounts to a mere quest for riches. As a result, the only sins that Marlow accuses the Europeans of are mendacity and ignorance.
No doubt Achebe would use this argument to further advance his own assertion that Heart of Darkness is a systematically racist work, and thus it may appear on the surface. However, even though Marlow does not openly denounce the subjugation of Africa, one must also acknowledge the mocking tone he adopts toward the conquerors. The manager he calls a "chattering idiot" (Conrad, 59). He trivializes the actions of the man-of-war off the coast (As he notes, "It appears the French had one of their wars going on thereabouts" [Conrad, 48].). He ridicules the brick maker, the "papier-mâché Mephistopheles" (Conrad, 63) for not making bricks, or doing much of anything else, for that matter, besides scheming and plotting. He snidely admits that he knows "nothing of the fate of the less valuable animals" (Conrad, 73) when reports that the Eldorado Expeditions' donkeys have died come in, a veiled insult aimed at the white explorers traversing the jungle. There is no mention whatsoever in Achebe's essay of any of these occasions.
On the river, Marlow mocks the technological advantage the Europeans have over the natives, reducing their rifles and guns to children's playthings and the pilgrims themselves to little more than children unable to function for themselves. He shrewdly marks their inability to fire a weapon properly during the attack on the steamship: "these chaps fired from the hip with their eyes shut" (94), like children playing make-believe in a game too large for them. Kurtz's various weapons, the "thunderbolts of that pitiful Jupiter" (105), are little more than a boon to the ego, a means whereby the Europeans allow themselves to feel superior to the natives. In reality, the weapons mean nothing: the pilgrim in pink pajamas is "a hopeless duffer" (94), a symbol of the rest of their group, characterized by his childish garb, and Kurtz cannot stave off his ultimate death with his weaponry. The tools of conquering can neither save nor better the conquerors.
Of conquerors in general, Marlow turns to the ancient Romans and their expansive empire covering the known world. "They were conquerors" (Conrad, 38), he says, "and for that you only want brute force - nothing to boast of when you have it, since your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others" (Conrad, 38). Here Marlow presents a clear argument against the so-called might of mighty subjugators. One can see here the subtle strike Marlow makes toward imperialist Europe. Far from advocating racism, Marlow actively condemns it here. Easily missed due to its location so early in the novel, this perfectly embodies Marlow's attitudes toward his ravenous peers who exploit and pillage the land and people. The darkness Marlow sees in Africa is not what Achebe believes it to be: "'the other world,' the antithesis of Europe and therefore civilization, a place where man's vaunted intelligence and refinement are finally mocked by triumphant bestiality" (Achebe). "The map," (Conrad, 43), Marlow laments, has "ceased to be a blank space of delightful mystery - a white patch for a boy to dream gloriously over. It [has] become a place of darkness" (Conrad, 43) - the Heart of Darkness, as it were, tainted by imperialist ambitions, greed, and lies. It is not the primitiveness, though that exists - even Achebe cannot deny that the wilderness of Africa is untamed. Rather, it is the presence of the European that, far from saving Africa, makes it "darker." Here is one of the few instances in which Marlow offers an opinion of imperialism and racism and it is far different from what Achebe would believe. Rather than praise the Company for "curing" the natives of their savagery, as the naïve aunt does, Marlow instead indicts their imperialist actions. Before the colonization rush, Marlow sees Africa as a romanticized land of unbridled opportunity and purity; after, it is only darkness. It must be noted, though, that Marlow rarely offers any view of imperialism - the novella in its entirety concerns itself very little with the concept.
The strongest of the images that Conrad employs in his work, and another one that Achebe ignores outright, is the painting of the "woman, draped and blindfolded, carrying a lighted torch" (Conrad, 62), whose movement is "stately" (Conrad, 62). The background of the painting, he notes, is "somber - almost black" (Conrad, 62) and the "effect of the torchlight on the face [is] sinister" (Conrad, 62). The woman plainly symbolizes the civilized Europeans and their presence in the jungle. She carries a lighted torch, like a guardian or savior giving light to a dark place, represented in the almost-black background. Just as easily, though, one may draw the conclusion that her torch and its fire have desecrated the landscape which she sought to redeem - a black field of spent fuel, like the dark spot Marlow notes on the map. Like the Europeans, though, she is blind to the effect her light has. The fire may serve to bring justice and beauty - or to just as easily destroy and leave waste. Add to this the sinister effect the light has on her features and the answer becomes even more ambiguous.
Heart of Darkness can only truly be racist if Conrad displays more contempt for the African native than he does for the white conquerors or if he praises their efforts in the Congo. These instances noted here clearly indicate that this is far from the case.
The African:
Conrad's Humanization of a Conquered People
On the contrary, the African is, in several instances elevated above the European, although Achebe refuses to see it. Indeed, while the first half of the book may embody Marlow's disdain for the Europeans, the second half is more geared, if not toward upholding the African, then at least toward giving him a sort of human respect denied them by the Europeans. He does not simply give this to the natives by the virtue of their racial group, however, but awards it in recognition of their honest actions.
Achebe, however, takes Marlow's statements and twists them to fit his own agenda. Yet, as with his mistaken interpretation of the ugly humanity segment, he tends to see only a half-portrait, a skewed point of view of Marlow's words hampered by his inability to fully comprehend. For instance, as Marlow enters Africa, he encounters a boat rowed by a crew of natives, "faces like grotesque masks…but they [have] bone, muscle, a wild vitality, an intense energy of movement that [is] as natural and true as the surf along their coast" (Conrad, 49). Remarking on Marlow's observations as the steamboat progresses upriver, Achebe points to this one passage in particular, this "nice little vignette as an example of things in their place" (Achebe). Somehow, Achebe construes these lines as a support of Conrad's eager fascination with "things in their place." Yet, to do this, he overlooks the obvious references to the natives' humanity, from their bone to their muscle to their truth of being, as true as the coast from whence they come. Marlow clearly admires these natives, not because of the color of their skin or their poor condition, but because, unlike the Company, they are truth manifest, pure and simple. This passage is one of many that affirm the natural human dignity of the natives in Marlow's eyes.
In a pre-emptive response to such a conclusion, Achebe directs his readers to the passage in which Marlow encounters the grove of death, seeing the dying and starved Africans languishing in the sun. Achebe throws this passage aside as a simple "bleeding-heart sentiment" (Achebe) without really examining its meaning. Marlow says of these victims that they are "not enemies…not criminals; they [are] nothing now, nothing but black shadows of disease and starvation lying confusedly in the greenish gloom" (Conrad, 52). Rather than a simple "bleeding-heart statement," a device manufactured to create some semblance of peace in a racist's guilty mind, Marlow is trying to reveal the manner in which the captors have stripped (or, at least, tried to strip) the human dignity from the natives.
Perhaps more telling is the kinship that Marlow feels toward the natives, in particular the helmsman of the steamship. Yet even here, Achebe finds fault. Rather than seeing Marlow's admittance of kinship as a sign of equality and humanity, he instead compares Conrad with the missionary Albert Schweitzer, who, "[i]n a comment…often quoted, says: 'The African is indeed my brother but my junior brother'" (Achebe). Marlow's attitude toward the helmsman, however, is of a far less condescending nature than this. "Perhaps you will think it passing strange, this regard for a savage who was no more account than a grain of sand in a black Sahara" (Conrad, 93), he tells his friends; "Well, don't you see, he had done something, he had steered; for months I had him at my back - a help - an instrument" (Conrad, 93). Achebe might immediately object to the use of the word "instrument" here, perhaps arguing that it is another example of Conrad placing the African below the Europeans. However, Marlow is not referring to the helmsman as a simple tool that can used and tossed aside at will, but as a man as a man of monumental importance. The connection between Marlow and Schweitzer in the current context, then, is preposterous: while Schweitzer's stance reveals the same superiority-complex of the average European, Marlow expresses a genuine respect and liking for a man that has served so well aboard the steamship, a man he greatly regrets losing. "I missed my late helmsman awfully" (Conrad, 93) he laments. If the man had been nothing more than a savage, or a "junior brother," it is doubtful that Marlow would feel this way; the fact that he does reveals an important fact - that Marlow holds this man in esteem because of his skill and his partnership.
Restraint:
The Cardinal Virtue According to Marlow
Perhaps the most important point that Achebe ignores in his essay, however, is the importance that the idea of restraint takes in the novel. The trait that Marlow appears to value in others, even more so than honesty, is their ability to restrain their primal lusts. This is where Achebe misses the mark: the focus of the novel is on the inherent strength displayed by some characters while emphasizing a lack of it in others rather than racial characteristics.
The restraint displayed by the cannibals on the boat amazes Marlow, who is amazed that these supposedly primitive and unruly savages, these "fine fellows…who one could work with" (Conrad, 75), are able to hold back their need to eat human flesh. "Restraint? What possible restraint?" (Conrad, 83), he demands. Is "it superstition, disgust, patience, fear - or some kind of primitive honor?" (Conrad, 83). He then goes on to rule out each as a viable factor, citing how none could hold back a starving man in pursuit of nourishment. Indeed, his reasoning appears sound. If Conrad actually felt that these African natives were naturally inferior to the Europeans, then he would have left them out of the novella entirely, for lowly savages could not reasonably hold the same "high morals" of the conquerors. If Conrad really felt this way, he would have made the cannibals absolute, bloodthirsty savages unable to contain their lust enough to manage the ship. Here is solid evidence of an inexplicable restraint that baffles Marlow and allows the voyage to continue. Achebe discards this statement entirely, not even mentioning it in his analysis.
This is the key trait by which Marlow compares the Europeans and the Africans. It serves to the playing field between the natives and the Europeans. The heads hung outside Kurtz's shack only serve to show "that Mr. Kurtz lacked restraint in the gratification of his various lusts" (Conrad, 102). Even before, when reflecting on the helmsman, Marlow noted that "he had no restraint, no restraint - like Kurtz - a tree swayed by the wind" (Conrad, 93). Notice one key phrase that connects Kurtz, civilized, European, to a native: "like Kurtz." That phrase, that one alone, forms an unbreakable bond between the jungles of Africa to the cities of civilized Europe. These men are the same in this one key aspect, and it makes all the difference in the end: both meet their fates as a result of their failure to restrain themselves.
Conclusion
In the final conclusion of his essay, Chinua Achebe draws all of his arguments together to disavow the validity of Conrad's work: "[T]he question is whether a novel which celebrates this dehumanization, which depersonalizes a portion of the human race, can be called a great work of art. My answer is: No, it cannot" (Achebe). This is a strikingly bold claim against what scholars have hailed as one of the greatest short novels in the English language. Yet Achebe ignores a great number of significant points in drawing his conclusions. Of course points of the novel seem racist: just look at the publication date on the front cover and the reason why becomes apparent. In the deepest sense, however, Achebe throws aside an entire piece of literature simply because of the perceived attitude of its author. Despite the few instances of commentary on imperialism and racism (which all run counter to Achebe's arguments), the novella in and of itself does not serve such a purpose. Conrad's regard of the African race should matter little when analyzing his work; the novel must stand on its own. If it is allowed to do that, then there can be no question - Heart of Darkness is not a racist work.
3,772 words / 13 pages
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