AFRICA AND AFRICANS
IN CONRAD´S HEART OF DARKNESS
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Africa and Africans in Conrad's Heart of Darkness
A Lawrence University Freshman Studies Lecture
given by: Candice Bradley
Associate Professor of Anthropology
24-Jan-1996
[Lawrence Home] [Lawrence
CWIS] [Anthropology]
[
Mr.
Yatzeck: "Marlow's Lie" ]
[
Mr.
Dintenfass: "Heart of Darkness"]
[ LU's
Conrad links page] [LU's
Heart of Darkness Comment Page]
I am going to begin my discussion of Heart of Darkness with Curious
George. As you all know, Curious George was a little monkey who was found
in the jungle by the man with the yellow hat, and brought to America where
he had many adventures. Curious George, we are told, is "a good little
monkey." He is a good little monkey with no tail who walks upright and
rides bicycles. Those of you who have taken paleoanthropology, however,
already know that Curious George is no monkey. He does not have a tail.
Maybe he is a chimp -- except chimps walk on their knuckles and generally
don't deliver papers, paint walls, and make phone calls.
As we all know, George has a problem. He is a good little monkey, but
he is "too curious." He is so curious that he causes problems for the man
in the yellow hat. The man in the yellow hat dresses like a colonial officer,
wearing a bright yellow safari suit.
In Curious George Takes a Job, George is in the zoo. He steals the
keys to the cages from the zookeeper, and frees all the African animals.
George, now newly liberated himself, takes a series of menial jobs. At
one point, George breaks into an apartment and paints African animals all
over the walls. At the end of the story he stars in a Hollywood movie.
Curious George is a two layered story. On one level it's a dumb but
beloved children's story. On another, it is a postcolonial parable in which
George stands for Africa, and the zookeeper and man with the yellow hat
for benevolent colonizers. George stealing the keys and liberating the
animals is a parable for the decolonization of Africa. From the middle
of this century onward, the African took the keys from the white man and
let himself out of the cage.
One day I read some of Curious George Takes a Job to my students. One
student, an African woman raised biculturally, was shocked. "My parents
read me this story," she said. "This is horrible! Did the author know what
he was doing? Was he a racist? Or did he write this postcolonial plot into
the book with full consciousness?" Unfortunately there is little written
about the author, so I cannot tell you whether he was an enlightened man
who hid the symbolism in there on purpose, or if he did it unconsciously.
Heart of Darkness is also a multilayered postcolonial parable. And
it is also a story in which racism presents itself so blatantly that, for
many, the dilemma of race must be tackled before anything else in the book
may be dealt with. Conrad's liberal use of derogatory, outdated and offensive
terminology, and the flagrant devaluation of people of color as savages,
niggers and cannibals -- this use of language by Conrad darkens and disturbs
many a contemporary, 1996 mind.
One of the first questions my students often ask is "Was Conrad a racist?"
And I have had African-American students tell me, in no uncertain terms,
that he was, that this book is not read in traditionally black colleges
in the US, and that there is little value in it being read here. And then
there is the argument, stated eloquently by one of my own students on Monday,
that language was used differently in the 1890's. What we interpret now
as a racist term was then, the argument goes, a relatively neutral word
without racist overtones.
In 1996, these are highly relevant questions. We live in interesting
times -- times when books are banned because they contain offensive terminology.
Two of Conrad's books -- Heart of Darkness and The Nigger of the "Narcissus"
-- have been on some banned book lists, but not nearly as often as Mark
Twain's Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer. These books have been banned in
schools and libraries in such places as Brooklyn because they contain the
word "nigger."
(For information on banned books, see Banned Books On-Line.)
See, I said the word. Last year, during the Simpson trial, those CNN
reporters invented the term "n word" to describe some of the content of
the Fuhrmann tapes. Does this newfound "n word"-consciousness affects how
300 odd freshman might view Heart of Darkness
In the meantime, we find the word "nigger" sprinkled liberally throughout
contemporary song, in the lyrics of the Grateful Dead, Patti Smith, Public
Enemy, John Lennon, and Snoop Doggy Dog, as well as on such popular shows
as Def Comedy Jam. Our comfort level with the "n word" is context-dependent.
In 1890, however, when Conrad did his trip up the Congo River, things
were different, were they not? This is actually an empirical question,
and one we can tackle with evidence. We can ask, for example, how the word
"nigger" was perceived in 1890.
The word "nigger," like Negro, Niger, and the archaic slang word "neger,"
come from the Latin root for black. The following quotation is from Stuart
Flexner's 1976 book, I Hear America Talking(i):
". . . At any rate, "nigger" was a common word in both England and
America by the 17th century; it was just considered a pronunciation of
"Negro" until around 1825, when both abolitionists and Blacks began to
object to it as disparaging. Then after the Civil War "nigger" became the
most common contemptuous word for a Black."
This was in the US. What about England, where Conrad lived? According
to Dorothy Hammond and Alta Jablow in The Africa That Never Was (1970)
the word "nigger" had fallen into disrepute by the 1880's. They give an
example of a travel writer named Grogan who "saw the Africans only as 'niggers'
-- he used no other term." Hammond and Jablow write (p. 100):
"No issue was taken with the word or its use at this time, though some
in positions of administrative responsibility, clearly aware of its pejorative
content, eschewed its use. In this connection it is noteworthy that [Sir
Harry] Johnston [writing in the 1880's] occasionally lapses into using
the word, but discreetly, hemmed in by quotation marks. Later, when he
became Proconsul of British Empire in Africa, he did not use the term at
all."
There is little doubt, then, that Conrad would have been aware in 1898
that the word "nigger" was derogatory. Although not a native speaker of
English, Conrad reportedly had a flawless ear for the tongue. Our reference
librarian, Mr Gilbert, also did some research on the topic, and found references
in both the US and Britain indicating that the word "nigger" was already
considered offensive in the 18th century in both places. Thus, Conrad must
have known.
But does this mean that Conrad was a racist? Not necessarily. Conrad
is not Marlow. Perhaps Conrad constructed Marlow as a racist, at least
in part, by having him use such words as "nigger" or savage in a few select
places in the book. If you go onto the Freshman Studies World Wide Web
page, however, you will find a searchable index of Heart of Darkness. Type
in the word "nigger" (do this both for the singular and the plural) to
see every case in which the term is used. Surprise. Most of the times that
Marlow uses the word nigger, it is when an African has been physically
abused by somebody else, when the African has already been completely and
totally dehumanized. Otherwise Marlow uses Negro, or Black.
I want to take this idea of racism with Marlow and Conrad just a bit
further. When we look at the racist language in the book, it is as though
we are looking at the very surface of the story. But, as professor Yatzeck
pointed out in his lecture last year, Heart of Darkness is full of irony
and deception. I thought he made a really interesting point, and one that
some of you might want to pursue in your papers. He suggested that light
is used to indicate deceit in Heart of Darkness. For example, when something
glitters, it does not glitter because it is beautiful or good, but because
there is something hidden under the surface, and sometimes something dangerous.
The river glitters, eyes glitter. The haze is translucent, still, eerie,
as though the sky was covered with white gauze. This light is much like
the parable that Conrad tells at the beginning of the novella:
The yarns of seamen have a direct simplicity, the whole meaning of
which lies within the shell of a cracked nut. But Marlow was not typical
(if his propensity to spin yarns be excepted), and to him the meaning of
an episode was not inside like a kernel but outside, enveloping the tale
which brought it out only as a glow brings out a haze . . .
It is as though the light does not illuminate the darkness, but rather
that, in a sense, the light is the darkness. Nothing is what it seems,
as is the case with a parable. A parable is a thing that, as Jesus pointed
out, you can hear if you have ears.
When we look beyond the language in the book that makes us nervous
in 1996, we can see Heart of Darkness as a scathing critique of colonialism.
Heart of Darkness takes place at a time when there were mere hints that
colonialism was not working as it should. It was a time that appeared on
the surface perhaps to be the height of Empire, a time to be bullish about
colonialism in Africa. But Conrad was lurking about whispering "sell, sell,"
a lone bear on the floor of Pax Britannica.
Imperialism is a central, underlying theme in this book, although it
is not only about imperialism. Conrad stated so himself in various documents.
In an 1899 letter, for example, Conrad wrote that the idea behind Heart
of Darkness is "the criminality of efficiency and pure selfishness when
tackling the civilizing work in Africa." In 1902 he lavished praise on
a reviewer who wrote that Heart of Darkness is:
"a 'psychological masterpiece' relating 'the sub-conscious life within
us. . . to our conscious actions, feelings and outlook,'" offering, "an
'analysis of the deterioration of the white man's morale, when he is let
loose from European restraint, and planted down in the tropics as an emissary
of light armed to the teeth, to make trade profits out of the subject races.'"
(Murfin, pg. 97)
But in one of these letters, Conrad adds:
"The idea is so wrapped up in secondary notions that You -- even You!
may miss it."
Now let us turn to the colonial backdrop of the Heart of Darkness.
Return to top of page
The Setting: The Thames and the Congo
Heart of Darkness is set in the Congo. No, let me backtrack. It is
not really set in the Congo. Rather, it is a story that we infer takes
place in the Congo, narrated by Marlow from a barge on the Thames. The
reality of Heart of Darkness is that the entire time, we never leave the
Thames. During the time when Conrad wrote Heart of Darkness , and even
before that, during the imaginary time when Marlow went to the Congo, the
British colonial empire was at its height. Britain was the preeminent world
power during the second half of the nineteenth century. She had colonies
around the world, including India, Malaya, Hong Kong, and much of Africa.
Britain controlled the Suez Canal, the east coast of Africa, and the route
to the source of the Nile.
The images from the Thames in Heart of Darkness lend support to the
argument that this is, at a basic level, a novel about imperialism. At
the beginning of the novel, Conrad connects the Thames to the Congo. The
Thames is "a waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth." It is
connected to the Congo like "an interminable waterway." It is connected
both symbolically and actually. It is connected physically as all rivers
are connected to each other. It is also connected by shared humanity, and
it is connected economically. One piece of the economic connection is the
ivory coming out of the Congo, on its way to Europe. This economic connection
is alluded to by the presence of London in the distance -- the "monstrous
town" -- and by the gloom we now see as we sit on the Thames with Marlow
-- a lightness growing gradually darker, a sense of foreboding that intensifies.
Some readers of this book argue that the coming darkness is about the future
(Sarvan in Kimbrough 283,284).
From the barge on the Thames, Marlow tells us, "And this also has been
one of the dark places of the earth." This also -- in relation to what?
Well, for one, in relation to Africa, and Marlow will soon tell us about
that. Second, in relation to Britain's own past -- a "primitive" past which
was a dark time, also, like the dark time Marlow found in the Congo.
Now let me tell you a little about the history of the Congo. The Congo
was the place that brought about the "partition of Africa." The partition
of Africa was a momentous event. It took place between 1880 and 1890, and
marked the beginning of the colonial era in Africa. Before the partition
of Africa, many European countries had nothing but "toeholds" in Africa.
These toeholds were economic and political claims to the coastal regions
of Africa. Before the partition of Africa, the map of Africa was, for Europeans,
a map with a big blank space in the center. Conrad later admits to a fascination
with the big blank space. He writes:
It was in 1868, when I was nine years old or thereabouts, that while
looking at a map of Africa of the time and putting my finger on that blank
space then representing the unsolved mystery of the continent, I said to
myself with absolute assurance and an amazing audacity which are no longer
in my character now:
"When I grow up I shall go there."
Before the partition of Africa, the Europeans did not know much about
what was at the center. There had been only isolated journeys into the
interior by explorers, traders, missionaries and the like. Some mapmakers
used to fill the blank spaces with drawings of wild animals. If you've
seen "Out of Africa," perhaps you can remember the dinner scene with Karen
von Blixen and Berkeley Cole. In a mysterious, hushed voice, Berkeley tells
Karen, "Be careful." She looks confused. He goes on. He reminds her of
the mapmakers in earlier times who drew maps of the world, and when they
got to the edge of the known world they drew dragons, and they wrote, "Beyond
this point there be dragons." Karen is horrified by this metaphor. She
says, "Is that where we are?" Of course, Karen and Berkeley were in Kenya,
and it was 20 years after Conrad's journey to the Congo. But this is how
the unknown regions of Africa were symbolized at the time. "Beyond this
point there be dragons."
To the Africans, of course, the center was filled in. Peoples all over
Africa lived in bands or tribes or kingdoms or empires, and they had territories
with boundaries that they defended. There were walled cities with armies,
and complex trade relationships. There were long distance trade routes,
and alliances and enemies. Indeed, in some places there was even a 2000
year history of contact with the outside world -- Egypt. Islam had penetrated
north and west Africa by the 12th century, and people were keeping written
histories in Arabic. There was no blank center, and there were no metaphors
about dragons. As far as the Africans were concerned, the land was not
up for grabs.
Though they did not have a written history, the people of the Congo
were not primitives, cannibals or savages. Four of the societies in the
Congo were kingdoms. These kingdoms traded with the Portuguese since the
fifteenth century. They were also involved in the slave trade. A group
of forest hunters also lived there. They called themselves such names as
Mbuti or Efe, but you probably know them as the "Pygmies." These are the
people from whom the group "Deep Forest" borrows sounds for their haunting,
synthesized music. The Pygmies have occupied this region for 40,000 years.
There is clear evidence that these people had contact with the Egyptians,
and that their music was all the rage in the Pharaoh's court. Later, during
the 17th century, two forest people, young men, were taken to Italy where
they learned to speak Italian and play the piano.
How was the Congo implicated in the partition of Africa? During the
1870's, this region of Central Africa that we now call Zaire was the domain
of Belgium. King Leopold II of the Belgians had created a personal empire
for himself in this area of Africa. This was an area rich in ivory and
other minerals, including diamonds. The British, French and Germans were
jealous that King Leopold owned such a vast rich area of Africa. To resolve
the controversy they set up an international conference in Berlin in 1884.
The conferencees, not an African among them, decided that all the nations
of Europe should have free access to the interior of Africa -- to the white
spaces. They also decided that a country could not claim a region of Africa
for its own unless there was clear evidence of occupation.
The 1884 conference led to a scramble for colonies. King Leopold already
had a head start. In 1878, he had hired an explorer named Henry Stanley
to establish trading stations along the Congo river. Stanley had gone there
before, and had essentially "opened up" the interior of Africa. In 1885,
a year after the Berlin conference, King Leopold established the Congo
Free State. The Congo Free State was not a Belgian colony, but a personal
possession of King Leopold.
It was during this time that Conrad went to the Congo.
Return to top of page
Postcolonial Critique
Earlier I argued that Heart of Darkness was a postcolonial parable.
I have just spent several minutes explaining how, during the time Conrad
visited the Congo, the British Empire was at its height and the era or
colonialism in Africa was just beginning. What is the difference between
a colonial perspective and a postcolonial one? Edward Said wrote in his
book Culture and Imperialism that colonialism is mainly about political
and economic relationships, some of which may or may not continue after
a state gains independence. The postcolonial era, on the other hand, is
about the intrusion and colonization of minds with ideas. This is what
the Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong'o meant when he talked about "decolonizing
the mind" -- that the colonizer and the colonized both carry colonialism
in their minds long after the state has gained independence. Although Marlow
is surrounded -- and horrified by -- by the accouterments (and inefficiencies)
of colonialism as he travels up the river, his struggle is also (or perhaps
more so) with the idea of colonialism. For this reason -- and because Conrad
appears to be critical of colonialism in Heart of Darkness -- this book
has much about it that is postcolonial. This may explain the fascination
with Heart of Darkness and other novels by Conrad among so many postcolonial
and postmodern thinkers. These include Homi Bhabha, Edward Said, Frederic
Jameson and a number of my colleagues in anthropology. Heart of Darkness
has nearly become fetishized in the postmodern intellectual community.
For links to Edward Said, Edward Said; The Text, The World, The Critic,
Reviews of Edward Said's Work and Bibliography. For Frederic Jameson, see
F. Jameson's Work. For Chinua Achebe, see Voyager: The Art of Fiction:
Chinua Achebe (1) and Voyager: The Art of Fiction: Chinua Achebe (2).
Some critics argue, for example, that Conrad has constructed Marlow
as a well-intentioned liberal. Listen to what Marlow says when comparing
the deaths of Kurtz to the helmsman:
No I can't forget him [and here Marlow means Kurtz], though I am not
prepared to affirm the fellow was exactly worth the life we lost in getting
to him. I missed my late helmsman awfully -- I missed him while his body
was still lying in the pilot-house. Perhaps you will think it passing strange
this regret for a savage who was no more account than a grain of sand in
a black Sahara. Well, don't you see, he had done something, he had steered;
for months I had him at my back -- a help -- an instrument. It was a kind
of partnership. He steered for me -- I had to look after him, I worried
about his deficiencies, and thus a subtle bond had been created, of which
I only became aware when it was suddenly broken. And the intimate profundity
of that look he gave me when he received his hurt remains to this day in
my memory -- like a claim of distant kinship affirmed in a supreme moment.
There are many things to see in this passage. Among them, we observe
how Marlow is able to identify personally with "a savage who is no more
account than a grain of sand in a black Sahara." On the other hand, we
observe in retrospect Marlow's graciousness toward this mere savage --
(as if to say) -- "ah, yes, this is a mere savage, and I -- such a wonder
-- could actually see humanity in him -- amazing -- he is human." Marlow
is simultaneously a good liberal and a racist, and a man struggling quite
consciously with both perspectives. Return to top of page
Achebe's critique and Images of Illness in Africa
Those of you who have read the introduction in your edition of Heart
of Darkness are aware of Chinua Achebe's critique of the novel. I would
like to go back for a moment to Achebe's critique.
Everyone who writes about Heart of Darkness is aware that Conrad does
not explicitly state that it is set in Africa. We infer that it is in Africa
because we know that Conrad was there, and because of the images he uses.
It doesn't take much to also infer that the story told in Heart of Darkness
might be set elsewhere, for example, in Vietnam. But there are things in
the story that put limitations on the kinds of places it might be set.
I think the story would succeed in the an inner city, for example, or on
an alien planet, but it might be more difficult to pull off if the setting
were Lawrence University. This is because Heart of Darkness invokes emotions
from a particular set of imagery which are almost universally known in
the west. It is the fact that the imagery is borrowed from Africa that
bothers Achebe. He argues that Heart of Darkness treats Africa (and I quote)
"as setting and backdrop which eliminates the African as human factor.
Africa as metaphysical battlefield devoid of all recognizable humanity,
into which the wandering European enters at his peril. Can nobody see the
preposterous and perverse arrogance in thus reducing Africa to the role
of props for the break-up of one petty European mind?"
Achebe is saying that he is offended by the use of images of Africa
in the novel. But, some of you might be asking, didn't we already establish
that Heart of Darkness is anti-colonial, anti-imperial, etc., and that
Conrad is probably about as non-racist as you can get for a man of his
time, even if Marlow is struggling with these things? So what is Achebe
talking about?
Let us take the analysis one step further, beyond the mere words at
the surface of the story, and beyond the inner struggles of the characters
in the story. Let us look now at how Conrad has used imagery in Heart of
Darkness as a kind of shorthand of the emotions, invoking shared meanings
that, in this case, have their origins in western images of Africa and
of the primitive.
Images of modernity in Heart of Darkness contrast with images of the
primitive. We can think of modernity in two ways. For one, to be "modern"
is to not be savage. In Heart of Darkness, Africans are often savages,
though at times, Europeans are savages. Europeans were savages in the past,
and there is some ambiguity in Heart of Darkness about their status as
non-savages in the Congo.
We also find images of modernity -- or its breakdown -- in the boiler
laying in the grass, the piles of broken drainage pipes, and the pieces
of rusting machinery Marlow saw at his Company's Station. Boats fall apart
and there are no rivets to fix them. Roads just don't get built, and bricks
just don't get made. In Heart of Darkness' Congo, the very essence of the
industrial revolution rots, and the most basic structures which define
the modern world are frustrated. The Europeans who try to bring roads or
make bricks or fix boats are defeated, and their original purposes in going
to the Congo are made futile and meaningless. Listen to this passage:
Once a white man in an unbuttoned uniform, camping on the path with
an armed escort of lank Zanzibaris, very hospitable and festive -- not
to say drunk. Was looking after the upkeep of the road, he declared. Can't
say I saw any road or any upkeep, unless the body of a middle-aged negro,
with a bullet-hole in the forehead, upon which I absolutely stumbled three
miles farther on, may be considered as a permanent improvement.
Not only does this place lack a road, the most basic signal of civilization,
but a dead African blocks the way. Note that it was a bullet and not a
spear that did this guy in. The entire scene is ludicrous -- a white guy
looking after a nonexistent road, the meaning of his mission reduced to
absolute futility.
I will now talk about the Congo in the nineteenth century, and about
some of the images of Africa and Africans taken home to Europe. These images
have many sources. Some of them were stories about travels through Africa,
and these included several books written by Henry Stanley. These books
were published during Conrad's lifetime. Stanley's book Through the Dark
Continent was published 1879, and How I found Livingstone in Central Africa
was published in 1890. In Darkest Africa was published in 1891. These were
popular books, and it is reasonable to suggest that if Conrad hadn't read
them, he was at least influenced by the pictures they presented of Africa.
We also know that Conrad read anthropology, and apparently Conrad was
very intrigued by one particular anthropologist who wrote about the Arctic.
He may have read early anthropological accounts of Africa. But many of
these writings which we see in retrospect as "anthropology" really came
from missionaries and specialists in tropical medicine who had gone to
Africa to save souls or to cure the sick or both. Many of these people
came back to Europe and N. America to write accounts of their experiences.
In the place in Kenya where I did my research, Quaker missionaries were
the first ones to learn the indigenous language and to produce reliable
writings about the culture.
I am now going to outline for you six images that came out of nineteenth
century Africa. Not all of these images are specific to Africa, but together,
they give us a pretty good picture of how people saw Africa at that time.
A lot of these images have been passed down to us, and I expect that you
will recognize some of them. In some cases, I will talk about how we have
inherited these images today.
First, Africa was seen as a place of physical darkness. I think the
titles of Stanley's books are dead giveaways. In Darkest Africa. Through
the Dark Continent. In Darkest Africa cover has a picture of a continent
with a black middle not a white one. Yet the middle is blank. Through the
Dark Continent has an engraving of Stanley in a military uniform on a boat
in a dense jungle. The background of the jungle is black, and the book
is green. A lot of this imagery came from the tropical rain forest.
It seems to me that the tropical rain forests of the Congo provided
very important images in Heart of Darkness. Marlow described the forest
as follows:
The edge of a colossal jungle, so dark green as to be almost black...
or
beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the
big trees were kings. An empty stream, a great silence, and impenetrable
forest.
It happens that the area Conrad and Stanley visited is part of the
only region of tropical rain forest in Africa. This rain forest region
encompasses present day Zaire, neighboring Cameroon, and a piece of the
coast of west Africa. The rest of Africa is mostly deserts and grasslands.
Neither Stanley nor Conrad would have encountered these images of black/green
had they gone almost anywhere else on the continent. Indeed, Stanley did
go elsewhere, but the language of the rain forest even appears in his writings
on East Africa.
Aside from "black wool" and "black hens," Conrad fills the pages of
Heart of Darkness with descriptions of slithering, shining blackness. I
went through at one point and circled every reference to the colors of
the people. Here are some examples: "black shapes crouched, lay, sat between
the trees," "strings of dusty niggers with splay feet arrived and departed,"
"a whirl of black limbs," "the bush was swarming with human limbs in movement,
glistening, of bronze colour."
Of course there is another kind of darkness being alluded to here.
There was Kurtz's darkness -- "an impenetrable darkness." All the dark
images in the book -- the black/green jungle, the black shapes that lay
or splay or whirl or stare or die -- all of these allude to this other
kind of darkness.
The second image that was associated with Africa historically is that
of paganism. Many Bantu-speaking African societies had a multi-layered
way of thinking about God and the spirit. In addition to a supreme God,
traditional African religions also included a belief in ancestral spirits.
These ancestral spirits had the power to act in the lives of living people,
and their actions could be good or bad. Living people would do things to
keep the spirits of their dead ancestors from harming them. But the notion
that this was paganism was like saying the center of Africa was blank,
that it was up for grabs. The African had religion, but it was African
religion.
Many Christian missionaries were appalled by beliefs in ancestral spirits,
which they interpreted as witchcraft and sorcery. In addition, they were
appalled by other practices, including female circumcision, traditional
healings which included facial scarification, sacrifice of animals at gravesides,
and the pounding of drums. African religious celebrations such as funerals
were interpreted as frenzied, wild-eyed dances. All these things were often
associated with evil, because godlessness was considered dark and evil.
For this reason, Africa was and continues to be seen as a battleground
between good and evil. Indeed, Conrad uses images of flames and fire, even
of Mephistopheles, to allude to images of hell.
Disease is a third image associated with Africa. The west coast of
Africa was once known as "the white man's graveyard." Half the Europeans
who went there died in the first year. Europeans just did not have immunity
to disease that the Africans had. Yellow fever was especially problematic.
It was a disease that killed adults, but was rarely fatal in children.
African children would survive yellow fever and therefore ward it off as
adults. But Europeans who went to Africa were already adults, so their
chances of surviving a bout of yellow fever were much worse. Malaria was
also rampant. Malaria is a parasite transmitted by a mosquito. The first
bout with malaria is the worst, and thus many Europeans succumbed to it.
Schistosomiasis is a parasite that spends half its life in the body of
a snail, and the other half in the body of a human being. It enters through
the skin and leaves the human body through waste products. Sleeping sickness
was also problematic. I could go on and on with the list.
In Heart of Darkness, Europeans are plagued with African diseases.
Indeed, disease is so common in Heart of Darkness that lack of disease
is considered remarkable. The one man in Heart of Darkness who did not
ever seem to get ill was the incompetent manager at the station. Even Conrad
had been sick.
African illness was also fascinating, and numerous medical practitioners
went to Africa to set up mission hospitals or to study tropical medicine.
Dr. David Livingstone, whom Stanley had found in the Congo in 1871, is
the archetypal example of such a doctor. He combined Christianity with
healing, and developed a deep respect for indigenous forms of medicine.
Nevertheless, Dr. Livingstone felt that Africa itself had a kind of
disease, brought on by the "evils of the slave trade," paganism, and "the
creeping forces of Islam." Dr. Livingstone set the tone for the pre-colonial
image of illness in Africa (Vaughan:57).
Albert Schweitzer was another "jungle doctor," although he was in Africa
during the twentieth century. Apparently Dr. Schweitzer felt that he was
"doing battle with nature itself." For him, fighting disease in Africa
was fighting with the very nature of Africa. Dr. Schweitzer was also the
one who said, "The African is my brother but my junior brother."
We still associate Africa with disease. Nowadays, the focus of these
associations is AIDS. There was a series of scientific articles in the
mid-1980's alleging that Africa was the ultimate source of HIV. These allegations
were eventually refuted, not only by the lack of evidence substantiating
the claims, but also through discussion of the discourse in western medicine
about disease in Africa.
Insanity is a fourth image of Africa, and it follows from the images
of disease. During the 19th century, there began to be an interest in determining
whether or not there was a specific kind of insanity in Africa. What would
insanity look like in Africa? Would it be different from European insanity?
I know from having lived in African villages that Africans do deal with
mental illness very differently than we do. For example, people who become
traditional healers in western Kenya experience a kind of disease for which
there is no cure. This disease may last a decade or more, until one day
the disease is cured by a traditional healer. Now bear in mind that this
is not an illness that we define in this culture. It is an illness that
may only be healed through methods the missionaries would refer to as "witchcraft."
The presence of the illness and its cure are taken as signals in the village
that this person is to become a traditional healer. From a western perspective,
we might say that the person had been cured of a psychosomatic illness.
Mental illness became important in Africa because it began to have
another form. There began to be an awareness that the African was being
made crazy by the colonial encounter. Again, Livingstone's argument that
Africa had a colonial disease.
Fifth, Africans were seen as primitive, savage and primordial. Savagery
and primitiveness are obvious enough images in Heart of Darkness, so I
would like to touch just briefly on this point.
There is a story from the 17th century about the Mbuti, the forest
people who lived in the Congo region for 40,000 years. It seems that a
British physician claimed the Mbuti were not really human. He had a skeleton
in a British museum that scientists later discovered was really a chimpanzee
(source: Turnbull). Stanley, however, recognized the long history of the
Mbuti and had nothing but admiration for them. The tone of his admiration,
though, was unconsciously condescending, as if to say, "Isn't it remarkable
that these people really have a history?"
Cannibals are sometimes mentioned in Heart of Darkness . To my knowledge,
there were no cannibals in Africa. There are allusions to cannibals in
In Darkest Africa (vol. 1 p 115). Since it is highly unlikely that Conrad
encountered cannibals in Africa, it is possible that he had learned about
them from other visitors who had been under the illusion that they had
really encountered cannibals. Cannibals are part of the nineteenth century
imagery of Africa.
Nineteenth century social scientists such as Lewis Henry Morgan and
Freidrich Engels were influenced by evolutionary thinking. Morgan was the
quintessential social evolutionary thinker. He proposed that there were
three stages to human cultural development. These proceeded from the least
complex to the most complex. The least complex he called Savagery. The
second stage was Barbarism, and the third was Civilization. Each of these
was contrasted with the other in terms of marriage customs, sexual practices,
and ways of getting food. Civilization was characterized by monogamy and
patrilineality. Morgan's stage theory was well known in the second half
of the nineteenth century.
A sixth image of Africa from the nineteenth century is that of sexuality.
One contemporary author (Megan Vaughan) writes about "the 'myth' of black
sexuality." A source of this myth is found in the problem of disease. The
pervasiveness of syphilis in the African population led to the conclusion
that Africans were somehow "sexier" than Europeans. Second, the myth of
black sexuality was heightened by the presence of polygamy in nineteenth
century Africa. As an anthropologist, I know that polygamy was more common
cross-culturally than monogamy. In Europe, however, monogamy was absolutely
the norm. Foucault and others have written that sexual mores actually became
more rigid in Europe during the latter half of the 19th century. In contrast,
African sexual mores seem to have relaxed with the coming of the European.
At the turn of the century, women in the part of Africa I worked in were
already complaining about the breakdown of the morality of the young people.
African marriage customs also differed from those of Europe, and were the
third cause of the myth of black sexuality. Marriages appeared on the surface
to be less formalized and marital relationships were more distant. African
couples who wanted to join a particular church were often obligated by
missionaries to be married in the church. Otherwise, they would be living
in sin. Nowadays many people blame the high HIV rates in Africa on African
marriage customs and sexuality.
As you see, there are very specific images of Africa that were held
in the 19th century. I am particularly intrigued by the images of disease
and mental illness, and how these were interpreted by people such as Dr.
Livingstone. Recall that Dr. Livingstone believed that Africa itself had
a kind of pathology brought on by colonial contact. This pathology was
both physical to the mental, and included a spiritual pathology characterized
by primitive or savage sexuality and paganism. It was the duty of those
who went to the Congo to extend a rescuing arm to Africa, to Christianize
and to bring western medicine. But it was not only Africa that was diseased.
In Heart of Darkness, the images of physical and mental disorder included
the Europeans. And who was to rescue them?
Although I do not agree with Achebe's accusation that the sources of
the imagery in Heart of Darkness stem from Conrad's own racism, the emotion
and imagery in Heart of Darkness profit from stereotypes about Africa held
during that day. As we read this novel nowadays, many of those same images
are with us -- illness, insanity, sexuality, the primitive. These images
are a sort of cardboard cutout of Africa, a Disneyland wild jungle ride,
a Curious George story. We contain these images and use them when we construct
new stories, "not as the kernal, but enveloping the tale, as a glow that
brings out the haze."
Return to top of page
Freshman Studies Lecture given 24-Jan-1996 by Candice Bradley Associate
Professor of Anthropology Lawrence University Appleton, WI 54912-0599
Comments may be left at the Heart of Darkness Comments Page or sent
directly to Candice Bradley at candice.bradley@lawrence.edu.
[Lawrence Home] [LU Campus Info: CWIS] [Anthropology]
References Cited
Conrad Heart of Darkness, Nigger of the "Narcissus"
Twain Huck Finn, Tom Sawyer
Murphin
Homi Bhabha
Edward Said, Culture and Imperialism
Jameson
Ngugi wa Thiong'o
Flexner (1976) I hear America Talking.
Hammond and Jablow (1970) The Africa That Never Was.
Engels
Morgan
Grogan
Johnston
Kimbrough (and an article therein)
Livingston
Stanley
Vaughan
Yatzeck
Achebe
Schweitzer
Rey Curious George Takes a Job
Banned Books Online
CNN and use of "the n-word" online
Turnbull
Footnotes
(i) I am indebted to David Dodd, a librarian at University of Colorado,
Colorado Springs, for communicating with me over email about the history
of the word "nigger," (his email is ddodd@serf.uccs.edu); and to Peter
Gilbert, our reference librarian here at Lawrence for hunting down information
not only for this version of this lecture, but also the previous one, and
for a few dozen other times when he's helped me out. As far as I am concerned,
librarians are a subcategory of saint, and I love the message at the bottom
of Dodd's emails: "Every day, David has to decide whether to use his incredible
cataloging powers for good or for evil."
Candice.Bradley@Lawrence.edu or visit my homepage at http://www.lawrence.edu/~bradleyc/
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