Thoughts from a troubled reader
Conrad’s ‘Heart of Darkness’ and colonialism
It might be a Grade II listed monument, but Joseph Conrad’s tomb is not exactly the first ‘attraction’ that springs to mind when people plan to visit Canterbury. When I first moved to this neck of the woods, as an enthusiastic postgraduate student of English Literature, I had no idea that Conrad was buried here. As it turned out, we were pretty much neighbours, since my student digs in London Road were virtually round the corner from the Canterbury City Cemetery, where I duly went and paid my respects.
Back then, I’d recently re-read Heart of Darkness, possibly one of the most canonical and controversial texts in the history of literature in English. First published in 1899, the novella exposes the arrogance and the hypocrisy behind the white man’s self-appointed civilizing mission in Africa. It is also widely praised for its powerful symbolism — say, the voyage up the river Congo as a journey of self-discovery — and its evocative language.
F.R. Leavis gave Heart of Darkness his seal of approval in The Great Tradition (1948), calling it
“by common consent, one of Conrad’s best things”.
(Not an uncontroversial figure himself, and often taken to task for his unapologetic, wide-sweeping value judgements, F. R. Leavis is in some ways the ‘father’ of English Literature as a university subject in this country.)
Not all readers, however, are willing to concede that Conrad was fully ahead of his time in his critique of colonialism. In a 1975 lecture entitled ‘An Image of Africa’, the Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe branded Conrad
“a thoroughgoing racist”.
Although I remain a passionate admirer of Heart of Darkness, I am also acutely aware that its portrayal of the natives — indeed, of the entire continent (and of women, for good measure!) — can be problematic.
When Achebe asks
“Can nobody see the preposterous and perverse arrogance in […] reducing Africa to the role of props for the break-up of one petty European mind?”,
I wonder whether my response — that Heart of Darkness is more nuanced than Achebe gives it credit for — might not be different, if I had a different background. To be blunt: if I were not white and European. Much as I love Heart of Darkness, I do wonder.
I first read it, and didn’t get it, when I was seventeen. (My high-school teacher had recommended it, and I had valiantly given it a go, during the summer holidays. I found it boring. It was slow. It didn’t seem to go anywhere. I didn’t like any of the characters.) I studied it at university, and it was a revelation: so much food for thought. I have since taught it myself, to a new generation of students. I would not dream of teaching it without asking them to read ‘An Image of Africa’ too. After all, Heart of Darkness is not meant to be a comfortable read, but it is well worth the effort — and a continuing debate. Bring it on.
by Dr Stefania Ciocia, Reader, Department of English and Language Studies, Canterbury Christ Church University.
