Catharsis In Heart Of Darkness Essay, Research Paper
Marlow’s Catharsis in Heart of Darkness Conrad’s novel, Heart of
Darkness, relies on the historical period of imperialism to illuminate its
protagonist, Charlie Marlow, and his struggle with two opposite value
systems. Marlow undergoes a catharsis during his trip to the Congo and
learns of the effects of imperialism. I will analyze Marlow’s change, which is
caused by his exposure to the imperialistic nature of the historical period in
which he lived. Marlow goes to the Congo River to report on Mr. Kurtz, a
valuable officer, to their employer. When he sets sail, he does not know what
to expect. When his journey is complete, his experiences have changed him
forever. Heart of Darkness is a story of one man’s journey through the
African Congo and the enlightenment of his soul. Marlow begins his voyage
as an ordinary English sailor who is traveling to the African Congo to work.
He is an Englishmen through and through. He has never been exposed to any
culture similar to the one he will encounter in Africa, and he has no idea about
the drastically different culture that exists there. Throughout the book,
Conrad, via Marlow’s observations, reveals to the reader the naive mentality
of Europeans. Marlow also shares this naivet? in the beginning of his voyage.
However, after his first few moments in the Congo, he realizes the ignorance
he and all his comrades possess. We first recognize the general naivet? of the
Europeans when Marlow’s aunt sees him for the last time before he embarks
on his journey. She assumes that the voyage is a mission of “weaning those
ignorant millions from their horrid ways [. . .]” (line 16). In reality, however,
the Europeans are there in the name of imperialism and their sole objective is
to earn a substantial profit by collecting all the ivory in Africa. The reader can
also see the Europeans obliviousness of reality when Marlow is recounting his
adventure aboard the Nellie. He addresses his comrades: When you have to
attend to things of that sort, to the mere incidents of the surface, the
reality–the reality I tell you—fades. The inner truth is hidden luckily, luckily.
But I felt it all the same; I felt often its mysterious stillness watching over me at
my monkey tricks, just as it watches you fellows performing on your
respective tight ropes for—what is it? half a crown a tumble . . . . (36) While
he is in the Congo, although he has to concentrate on the petty everyday
things like overseeing the repair of his boat, he is still aware of what is going
on around him and of the horrible reality he is in. On the other hand, his
friends on the boat simply do not recognize this reality. It is their ignorance
and innocence which provokes them to tell Marlow to “try to be civil” (36).
Not only are they oblivious to the reality that Marlow sees, but their naivet? is
so great that they can not even comprehend such a thing (Johnson 356).
Quite surprisingly, this mentality does not pertain exclusively to the
Englishmen in Europe. At one point during Marlow’s voyage down the
Congo, he wakes to find his boat in an enormous patch of fog. At that very
instant, a “very loud cry” is let out (41). After Marlow looks around and
makes sure everything is all right, he observes the contrasts of the whites and
the blacks expressions: It was very curious to see the contrast of expression
of the white men and of the black fellows of our crew, who were as much
strangers to that part of the river as we, though their homes were only eight
hundred miles away. The whites, of course greatly discomposed, had besides
a curious look of being painfully shocked by such an outrageous row. The
others had an alert, naturally interested expression; but their faces were
essentially quiet[. . .]. (41-42) One can see the simple-mindedness of the
Europeans, even though they were exposed to reality. An innocent mentality
is engraved in their minds so deeply that even the environment of the Congo
can not sway their belief that people simply do not do the horrible things
Marlow recounts. The whites are dumbfounded and can not comprehend
how people, even the natives, would simply attack these innocent people.
The blacks, however, who are cognizant of the reality in which they live, are
“essentially quiet.” They feel right at home and are not phased by the shriek.
Similarly, one can see the difference of mentalities when Marlow speaks to
the cannibals in the crew. While in the midst of his journey, Marlow quite
casually talks with these cannibals, even about their animalistic ways. How
can a man from the refined world of England calmly and casually discuss
eating human flesh with those who do so on a regular basis? One would think
such a topic would be repulsive to Marlow, but he seems quite all right with
the topic of conversation. He would have never had such a conversation in
London, but he is not in London. He is in the Congo, which is quite a
different world. On the Congo River, the subject of cannibalism is an
unremarkable topic of conversation. This atrocity is unspeakable in the
Congo because it is a normal occurrence. Marlow explains to his comrades
on the Nellie the basic difference between living in Europe and being in the
Congo. He states: You can’t understand. How could you — with solid
pavement under your feet, surrounded by kind neighbours ready to cheer you
or to fall you, stepping delicately between the butcher and the policeman, in
the holy terror of scandal and gallows and lunatic asylums—how can you
imagine what particular region of the first ages a man’s untrammeled feet may
take him into by the way of solitude—utter solitude without a policeman—by
the way of silence — utter silence, where no warning voice of a kind
neighbour can be heard whispering of public opinion. (49-50) In Europe,
there are “kind neighbours” who are there to make sure that everything is all
right. There is always someone to help when needed. On the other hand,
once a man enters the Congo, he is all alone. He has no policeman and no
kind neighbors. When Marlow enters the Congo and begins his voyage, he
realizes the environment he comes from is not reality and the only way he is
going to discover reality is to keep going up the river. Marlow’s evolution
from an average European to a man who realizes his own naivet?, and
ultimately discovers his own reality, is evident in his observations of how
things are labeled in the Congo. It is these observations which change
Marlow forever. Marlow first realizes the Europeans’ flaw of not being able
to give something a name of significance at the beginning of his voyage, just
when he is about to reach the Congo: Once, I remember, we came upon a
man of war anchored off the coast. There wasn’t even a shed there, and she
was shelling the bush. It appears the French had one of their wars going on
there-abouts. Her ensign dropped like a limp rag; the muzzles of the long six
inch guns stuck out all over the low hull; the greasy, slimy swell swung her up
lazily and let her down, swaying her thin masts. In the empty immensity of
earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent.
Pop, would go one of the six inch guns; a small flame would dart and vanish,
a little white smoke would disappear, a tiny projectile would give a feeble
screech—and nothing happened. Nothing could happen. There was a touch
of insanity in the proceeding, a sense of lugubrious drollery in the sight; and it
was not dissipated by somebody on board assuring me earnestly there was a
camp of natives—he called them enemies!—hidden out of sight somewhere.
(17) Marlow is watching this occurrence. He sees the Europeans firing “tiny
projectiles” (17) and hears the pop of the cannons. The Europeans, however,
see themselves fighting an all out war against savage enemies in the name of
imperialism. The Europeans feel that this is an honorable battle, so they are
excited and fight with all they have. Marlow, however, sees it differently. He
is now in Africa where reality broods. It is lurking everywhere. The only thing
one has to do to find it is open the mind to new ideas. He looks at this event
and reduces it from the European’s image of a supposedly intense battle, with
smoke and enemies everywhere, to a futile firing of “tiny projectiles” into an
empty forest. For the first time, Marlow recognizes the falsity of the European
mentality and their inability to characterize an event for what it is. At the end
of the passage, his fellow European crewmember assures Marlow that the
allied ship is defeating the enemy, and that they just could not see them
because they are hidden from sight. In actuality, they were shooting at
innocent natives who had probably fled from the area of battle already.
Marlow is beginning to realize that what makes sense in Europe does not
make sense in Africa. With that passage, Conrad informs the reader of
Marlow’s realization. Marlow begins to wonder if the mentality instilled upon
him in Europe is similar to the reality he sees in Africa, or if he is surrounded
by atypical Europeans who are living in a dream world. As the novel
continues, Marlow recognizes that the flaw of not being able to see the true
essence of things and thus, not being able to identify things and events, is the
European way. There are some names given by the Europeans that simply do
not fit the characteristic of the object being named. Marlow points out that
the name “Kurtz” means “short” in German. However, after Marlow’s first
glance at Kurtz, he remarks how Kurtz appears to be “seven feet long” (59).
Conrad shows us, through Marlow’s observation, how Kurtz’s name is a
blatant oxymoron. Marlow recognizes yet another obvious misrepresentation.
Marlow meets a man called the bricklayer. However, as Marlow himself
points out, “[. . .] there wasn’t a fragment of a brick anywhere in the station”
(27). During his voyage Marlow not only observes misnaming, he realizes the
importance of a name. While overhearing a conversation between the
manager of the station and his uncle, he hears Mr. Kurtz being referred to as
“that man” (34). Although Marlow has not met Kurtz yet, he has heard of his
greatness. He now realizes that when these men call him “that man,” they strip
him of his attributes. These men , by not referring to him by his name, deny
Kurtz’s accomplishments. This same idea of distorting a person’s character by
changing his name is displayed elsewhere. The Europeans apply the words
“enemy” and “criminal” to the natives. However, they are no threat. The
natives are confused and helpless victims being exploited by ignorant and
greedy invaders. The injustice done by misrepresenting someone is
catastrophic. After observing these names which bare no true meaning, as
well as degrade a person’s character, Marlow understands that he can not
continue in his former ways of mindlessly giving random names to things for
fear of diminishing the essence of the subject. Therefore, Marlow finds
himself unable to label something for what it is. For example, while under
attack, Marlow refers to arrows being shot in his direction as “sticks, little
sticks,” and a spear protruding from a man as “a long cane” (45,47). When
Marlow arrives at the inner station, he sees “slim posts [. . .] in a row” with
their “ends ornamented with round carved balls” (52). In truth, these are
poles with skulls on top of them. Marlow can not comprehend the reality of
these things. Looking back on his voyage, Marlow realizes how mindless and
meaningless the labels the Europeans use to identify things are. He wants to
be able to identify properly everything he encountered on his voyage. Kurtz is
the chief of the Inner Station. He is a “universal genius, a prodigy, an emissary
of pity science and progress” (28). Kurtz teaches Marlow how significant
labels are: The man presented himself as a voice[. . .] of all his gifts, the one
that stood out preeminently, that carried with it a sense of real presence, was
his ability to talk, his words—the gift of expression, the bewildering, the
illuminating [. . .]. (48) Kurtz was “[. . .] little more than a voice” (48), but
there was no one with a voice like his. He could speak with remarkable
eloquence, he could write with such precision, and he could name with true
meaning. “You don’t talk with that man [Kurtz]— you listen to him” (53).
Marlow has heard enough about Kurtz to know that he can give Marlow
insight into the nature of the world. Indeed, Kurtz gives Marlow everything he
is looking for, but in an unexpected way. Kurtz teaches Marlow the lesson
with his last words: “The horror! The horror!” (68). These words are Kurtz’s
judgment on his own life. He is barbarous, unscrupulous, and possibly even
evil. However, he has evaluated his life and pronounced judgment. Marlow
sees Kurtz “open his mouth wide—it gave him a weirdly voracious aspect, as
though he wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before
him…” (59). Kurtz takes everything he has done in his life into himself and
pronounces a judgement upon it. “He had summed up— he had judged [. . .]
the horror!” (68). Kurtz’s last words are his way of teaching Marlow the
essence of a name. A name is not merely a label. It is one man’s own
judgment of an isolated event. However, unlike the Europeans who judge
based on principles they acquired through social conditioning, Kurtz teaches
Marlow to look inside himself and judge based on his own subjective creeds.
While Marlow is recounting the story, he says to his comrades: He must meet
that truth with his own true stuff—with his own inborn strength. Principles?
Principles won’t do. Acquisitions, clothes, pretty rags—rags that would fly
off at the first good shake. No. You want a deliberate belief. An appeal to
me in this fiendish row—is there? Very well. I hear, I admit, but I have a
voice too, and for good or evil mine is the speech that cannot be silenced.
(38) Marlow has learned that objective standards alone will not lead him to
recognize the reality of life. One can not depend on another’s principles to
find reality because they have not had to bear the pain and responsibility of
creating it. Principles are acquisitions, which, like other things we acquire
rather than generate, are easily shaken off. A judgment must be made from
one’s own internal strengths. That is why Marlow says, “for good or evil,
mine is the speech that cannot be silenced” (38). As Kurtz taught him with his
own judgment, a judgment of truth overpowers morality. To find ones own
reality one must not rely solely on other people’s morality or principles; one
must assess his own life. Kurtz shows Marlow that regardless of whether the
truth is good or bad, one must face his reality. He must face his own actions
even when the conclusion is “the horror.” By doing so, he will find his true
reality. Marlow understands that being true to you is not following another’s
moral code, but being able to judge one’s self honestly to discover a true
reality. Because of his newfound understanding, Marlow claims that Kurtz’s
last words serve as “[. . .] a moral victory paid for by innumerable defeats…”
(70). Despite Kurtz’s immoral ways, he is victorious. Because he did not run
away from the truth, he won a moral victory (McLauchlan 382). Marlow
learns the essence of naming and understands what it means to search for the
truth within himself. Marlow encounters two extremes while on his search: the
European mentality, which he finds completely oblivious to reality; and Kurtz,
a man who has found his horrible and unrestrained reality. With this
extraordinary knowledge of the two extremes of mankind, he returns to
England. Because of his knowledge, he has a new understanding. He knows
it is impossible to revert to his former mentality because he has been
enlightened and, thus, lost his naivete. Perhaps he could adopt Kurtz’ ways
and live in the other extreme. At one point, Marlow had peered over the
edge (68). Why did he not jump? Marlow is repelled from joining Kurtz for
several reasons. First, Kurtz had “kicked himself loose of the earth…he had
kicked the very earth to pieces. He was alone — and I [Marlow] before him
did not know whether I stood on the ground or floated in the air” (65). Kurtz