Heart of Darkness is ultimately a rejection of imperialism’s authorized lies.
Discuss.
Paul Catherall
Joseph Conrad’s novel, Heart of Darkness’, despite its publication at the dawn of this century, was written between 1898 and ’99, and is in many respects representative of the nineteenth century literary tradition. The novel does, however possess many startlingly modern features, usually associated with the literature of twentieth century experimental writers, (such as Joyce – Ulysses’ 1922, Finnegans Wake,’ 1939.) Its critical, almost pessimistic tone and stream-of-consciousness narrative style, is wholly atypical of the nineteenth century literary tradition. The implication, is that Conrad, like Joyce is a radical and experimental writer, albeit under the prescriptive literary milieu of Victorian Britain.
To suggest that Heart of Darkness’ is a critique of British imperialism may explain its exclusion from the British Empire Cannon’ of 1924. (1.) Conrad’s earliest experiences were defined by European imperialism; as a child, Conrad lost both parents in the Russian invasion of Poland. For Conrad, Pan-Slavism must have bequeathed an additional perspective on the morality of British imperialism. These experiences, and Conrad’s interest in the theories of Darwin are reflected in his constant reference to a predatory natural order in The Heart of Darkness,’ where the supremacy of brute force, not God is the reality of the cosmos. Imperialism conceals the carnage inflicted beneath a psyche of idealism:
It was just robbery with violence, aggravated murder… and men going at it blind – as is very proper for those who tackle a darkness… ‘ (2.)
The imperial psyche comprised two main aspects: power and order. The old oligarchic governments of Europe were in decline by the mid nineteenth century; the Enlightenment, and the French and American Revolutions, had bequeathed a legacy of change in the mood and attitudes of Europeans. Threatened with extinction from an increasingly powerful proletariat, traditional, hereditary regimes responded with brutal reaction and popular nationalism. By 1848, the pattern of European revolutions was over. The flag-waving populus of previously volatile cities, cheered the troops on their way to the acquisition of overseas – and sometimes European – territories. Like Rome, Europeans had conquered in the name of civilization; backward, non-European peoples were obviously inferior to the cultural, ethical and spiritually superior colonists. Duty and patriotism would carry out this process. Marlow’s discussion of Roman colonization implies that imperialism lacks real ethical motive, but instead is a repeating, cyclic process within predatory nature. Like Africa, Britain was once a savage wilderness:
…all that mysterious life of the wilderness that stirs in the forest, in the jungles, in the hearts of wild men.’ (3.)
Conrad had witnessed the processes of African imperialism at first hand. As a continental factor, and as a captain in the British merchant marine, he witnessed a mixture of extortion and outright robbery with natives. Conrad, although unwilling to explicitly condemn this process, perhaps due to social pressures, did not hesitate to denounce, The criminality… and pure selfishness when tackling the civilizing work in Africa.’ (4.)
(Letter from Conrad to W. Blackwood, explaining the aims of Heart of Darkness,’ December 1898.)
Conrad had to convince editors that he was not anti-imperialist. The demands of popular literature required some conformity to existing forms, but it can be seen that Conrad worked within the existing framework of popular fiction to expose at least surface injustices of contemporary imperialism for the average reader.
Perhaps the greatest problem and most interesting phenomenon in defining the extent to which Heart of Darkness is a critique of imperialism, is the ambiguity of the narrative style, or possibly, the attempt at evasiveness. On one hand, Marlow’s condemnation of the traders is a particularized attack on imperial inefficiency, but on the other suggests a general critique of imperialism. Marlow suggests that his African experience is beyond description. Perhaps this is an unwillingness on Conrad’s part to directly criticize imperialism, although the tone and language suggests detest for the imperial system:
That commingling of absurdity, surprise and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt.’ (10.)
Marlow’s inability to analyse his experience, suggests a critique of the very concept of rational understanding. As in life, complete clarity is unobtainable. Marlow’s experience, multifarious and sensual, cannot be measured or recorded:
We live as we dream, alone.’ (11.)
The frightening reality of the incomprehensibility and savagery of cosmic order is what drives Kurtz mad, and forces Marlow to conceal his understanding of nature, to the listeners, to Kurtz’s betrothed, and to the reader. This ambiguity and lack of clear-cut explanations, prompts us to question how far (due to contemporary convention and censorship,) Conrad substitutes Marlow’s emphasis on the incomprehensible in nature, for one of the incomprehensibility of man himself. Kurtz’s horror’ is never explicitly defined, it is left to the reader to judge how far Kurtz has digressed from the moral, social, ethical and religious norms of the Victorian psyche. Marlow’s Roman discussion prepares us for the encounter with Kurtz, another who has had to face the savagery’ of a godless wild:
…he has to live in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is also detestable… ‘ (21.)
In part one, we are presented with a representative social order. The four men’ have apocalyptic resonances. The boat symbolizes a naval and mercantile civilization, integral within the natural world of the ocean:
Between us there was… the bond of the sea. It had the effect of making us tolerant of each other’s yarns – and even convictions.’ (13.)
Nightfall suggests the transience of this great maritime power, the world is naked of the deceptive light of day, and the civilized psyche:
the sun …stricken to the death by the touch of that gloom.’ (14.)
Central to this transition is Marlow, whose tale addresses the imperialists of Britain. Marlow can see beyond contemporary idealism – his seamanship suggests a corporeal awareness the others lack:
He was the only man of us who still followed the sea.’ (15.)
The older Marlow is a man who has undergone some kind of enlightenment, which sets him apart from his passengers, he resembles an idol’, with outstretched palms. The sleeping lawyer, and restless accountant suggest that justice sleeps, and commerce builds empires out of the bones’ of the conquered:
The accountant had brought out a box of dominoes… and was toying architecturally with the bones.’ (16.)
Conrad reflects on the imperial romance, satirized in the illusory reflection of light:
…like jewels flashing in the night of time… Bearers of a spark from the sacred fire…’ (17.)
The town of London, like a vast warship, appears in the deceptive gloom of the Thames as The place of a monstrous town… a lurid glare under the stars.’ (18.)
Transience of empire, is evoked in the Roman conquest, When the romans came here nineteen hundred years ago – the other day…’ (19.) The ideological stimulus of imperialism is satirized:
Oh yes, he did it… and without thinking much about it either…'(20.)
Conrad repeatedly makes reference to the ideological basis of imperialism in Europe, seen in Marlow’s descriptions of the traders as pilgrims,’ bringers of light and civilization to a savage’ people. We are reminded of imperial hypocrisy, which boasts to enlighten, yet in reality oppresses its subjects. For Conrad, the ideals and ethics which fuel imperialism are the lies of a mercantile conspiratorial establishment:
It was just as though I had been let into some conspiracy.’ (5.)
For Marlow, the lies of imperialism represent civilization’s failure to overcome man’s primordial psyche, or to affirm the fabric of natural moral order. The suffering Marlow witnesses is not ethically justifiable, the hollowness of these lies expose a decay beneath:
There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies…’ (6.)
Conrad is aware of the forces at work behind these lies; his is a culture of ideals, reflected in the fiction of Ballantyne, Reid and Kingsley, and in the travel-writings of Livingstone, Hakluyt and Cook – all beacons of the Imperial work and patriotic ethic. Marlow sneers at the popular culture of idealized adventure:
There had been a lot of rot let loose in print and talk about that time.’ (7.)
Traditionally, adventure writers, such as Haggard, had sought to emulate the travel literature of the explorers. These pseudo accounts of real experience are often narrated by the writer, who is also the chief protagonist; maps, charts and letters are used to enhance the validity of the tale. In Heart of Darkness,’ however, we have a reversal of this situation. Conrad is, in effect, turning his rescue of Klein, a dying trader he encountered in the Congo, into fiction. For both Marlow and Conrad, the experience is devastating, with Conrad’s own severe sickness on the return journey. It is even possible that, like Kurtz, Klein had been venerated by the remote natives he encountered.
We cannot but surmise that Marlow, the chief protagonist, whose tale is relayed to us by the narrator, is simply a narrative device intended to conceal the autobiographical nature of Marlow. Without considering the earlier comparison, we know that the narrator possesses a special kinship with Marlow. At times, the narrator seems able to understand Marlow’s experiences better than Marlow himself. When Marlow is unable to define or accept the horror’ of his experience, the listening narrator conceives nature as a vast, seething ocean, against which the artificial boundaries of the civilized psyche are futile protections:
The tranquil waterway, leading to the uttermost ends of the earth… -seemed to flow into the heart of an immense darkness. ‘ (12)
Marlow may represent a young, transitional Conrad. Marlow’s journey is not just an imperial adventure, but a journey from idealistic youth to sceptical maturity, from the innocence of belief and trust in one’s environment to the disillusion of experience:
It was the farthest point of navigation, and cumulating point of my experience.’ (23.)
Conrad’s more fundamental criticisms of imperialism seem integral to a much wider conception of the state of civilized man and his role in the natural world. The Victorian science of Darwin – on natural selection, and of Kelvin – on thermodynamics and atomics, are evoked in Conrad’s portrayal of an indifferent, predatory nature, and of the futility of ethics in a Godless universe bound to burnt-out entropy:
If you believe in improvement, you must weep, for the attained perfections must end in cold, darkness and silence.’ (8.)
(Letter to Cunningham Graham – December 1898.)
In the jungle, Marlow’s ethics are all that conceal the truth of imperial futility:
…the uniform sombreness of the coast, seemed to keep me away from the truth of things. … a mournful and senseless delusion.’ (34.)
Civilization’s trappings are ridiculous in Africa, a boiler wallowing in the grass,’ and the objectless blasting,’ of railway construction, suggests something unnatural, and even perverse. The inability of the traders to kill the old hippo with their guns evokes the sense of an impenetrable wilderness. Similarly, the French ship, firing into the bush seems futile and pointless:
There was a touch of insanity in the proceeding.’ (36.)
Marlow describes the forests of Central Africa as a nebulous and impenetrable sea. Improvement’ is not only futile, but fatal:
The edge of a colossal jungle, fringed with white surf. …we landed some more soldiers. …some I heard, got drowned in the surf.’ (33.)
For Conrad, the consequences of improvement are devastating. The meeting of civilization and the wild is disastrous for all parties. For the negroes, the encounter means calamity, for the whites, madness and death; the desolation following Fresleven’s death illustrates this:
the huts gaped black, rotting.. A calamity had come to it sure enough.'(9.)
Marlow constantly experiences conflict between the appalling destruction he witnesses, and the artificiality of his own civilized psyche:
For a time, I would feel I belonged to a world of straight forward facts, but the feeling would not last long.’ (35.)
Marlow prompts our own criticism of social ideals:
He must meet that truth with his own true stuff… Principles won’t do.’ (22.)
Marlow is in fact the antithesis of the ideal, his dance with the boilermaker illustrates the limits of indoctrinated self-discipline. Marlow affirms a particularly modern aspect of literature: realism is not idealism, but a reflection of the living world in all its faults.
Marlow’s employment, hardly an imperial crusade, is a mercantile affair, there is not even a facade of moral purpose behind the company:
…they were going to run an over-sea empire and make no end of coin by trade.’ (26.)
Marlow contrasts the supposed morality of imperialism with the reality of the ivory trade:
The word ivory rang in the air… you would think they were praying to it.’ (49.)
The continental city, a whited sepulchre,’ suggests Brussels, whose King Leopold had appropriated the Congo as a personal shooting range. The city is mercantile, cramped and oppressively urban in its dead silence,’ An image of civilization, crumbling with a decadent, weary people suggests the corrupt and self-effacing nature of civilized life. The clerk Marlow meets suggests the myth of European imperial benevolence:
A white haired secretarial head, wearing a compassionate expression.'(27.)
For the stay-at-homes, imperialism is all about ideas and national prestige in the forum of Europe; they are secure in their self-assured beliefs. They have not experienced, like Marlow the darkness of nature at first hand. The shining map,’ of the imperial world suggests this artificial ethic:
There was a vast amount of red… good to see at any time.’ (28.)
Two women, knitting like the fates, suggest an uncanny and deliberate mind at work behind the imperial myth:
I thought of these two, guarding the door of darkness, knitting black wool as for a warm pall.’ (29.)
Marlow discusses popular imperialism. His aunt – whose knowledge of imperialism comes from popular culture, believes Marlow will be an emissary of light, …weaning those ignorant millions from their horrid ways.’ (31.)
Marlow hints that the majority of Europeans are ignorant of their true condition:
They live in a world of their own, there had never been anything like it, and never can be.’ (32.)
The death of Fresleven illustrates the disastrous results of imperialism, preparing us for a pattern of transition and destruction. The quiet Fresleven had been a couple of years… engaged in the noble cause,’ (24.) His violent attack of the native chief suggests madness and a breakdown of the personal moral/social framework as the result of exposure to wild Africa.
On meeting the traders, Conrad witnesses more European atrocities; criminals,’ used as slave labour satirize Europe’s anti-slavery boast. The starved natives wear black rags,’ suggesting the coming of European darkness. The back overseer, with his white rascally grin,’ suggests the corruption Europe has wreaked on a people innocent of the intrigues and greed of civilization, …the product of the new forces at work.’ (37.)
The grove of death,a recluse for negroes suffering malutrition and white diseases also illustrates negro opression:
I had stepped into the gloomy circle of some inferno…’ (39.)
The ambiguous and psyhological narrative becomes explicit and graphic:
Some picture of a massacre or a pestilence.’ (41.)
The white accountant’s self-assured countenance and dazzlingly white attire contrasts sharply with the dying negros; his whiteness is illusary:
I took him for a sort of vision… white cuffs, a snowy jacket.’ (42.)
The meeting of the factor poses a conflict for Marlow between the reality of what he is experiencing and the idealism of the vision-like accountant:
Moreover, I respected the fellow… I respected his collars, … this man had verily accomplished something.’ (43.)
The station is an image of British Imperial efficiency, Marlow is asked to convey this fact to the revered Kurtz, whose good repute comes from the fact that he is the best trader in the company:
Sends in as much ivory as all the others put together…’ (44.)
Kurtz represents the ideal imperialist, he is a remarkable person,’ because he can run empires, his ruthlessness is disregarded, He will be somebody in the Administration before long.’ (45.)
The aristocratic trader describes Kurtz as an emissary of pity and science…’
Like Kurtz, the general manager has risen through strength – the climate and diseases of Africa demand a survival of the fittest:
His position had come to him – why? Perhaps because he was never ill..(46.)
This cut-and-thrust European environment is seen in Marlow’s succumbing to primordial instincts:
Being hungry, you know… I was getting savage…’ (47.)
When Marlow gets his rivets by lying to the assistant, and dances with the boilermaker to celebrate, the wilderness responds: “A … burst of mighty splashes and snorts reached us from afar, as though an ichthyosaurs had been taking a bath of glitter in the great river” (48.)
The European conspiracy to exploit Africa is reflected in Marlow’s comments on the Manager, perhaps, rather than a particular image, this symbolizes king Leopold:
…he resembled a butcher in a poor neighbourhood.’ (54.)
In the assistant’s quarters we see Kurtz’s painting: A woman, draped and blindfolded, carrying a lighted torch.’ (51.). Women are associated with Europe’s illusory civilizing mission. The blindfold evokes Marlow’s description of the ideologically driven Roman conquest:
…and men going at it blind – as is very proper for those who tackle a darkness.’ (55.)
Marlow’s repair of the boat prompts him to consider his last refuge, the work ethic, although this affirmation is surprising after the ethical destruction Marlow has witnessed. Marlow, confused by conflicting perceptions of reality, desperately tries to rationalize his experiences:
The chance to find yourself, your own reality.’ (53.)
In part two, The half caste who brings Kurtz’s ivory suggests the inner conflict of the Kurtz, the half-caste may symbolize a conflict between the primitive and civilized in Kurtz’s psyche:
He was that man, the half-caste.’
The journey to Kurtz brings Marlow closer to the primitive: back to the earliest beginnings of the world …’ (56.). Marlow, attracted by the wilderness, monstrous and free’ (57), opposes the primordial with his deliberate belief’. The mysterious stillness’ watching Marlow at his monkey tricks’ (58) implies Conrad’s conviction that creation is indifferent to our human ethical systems. Without the restraints of … a butcher … a policeman … and temperature normal’ (59) we succumb to our primitive selves. Marlow gradually comes to the realization during the attack of the natives, that the mythos of Kurtz has lured him to a man who is either the avatar of imperial order, or that of the imperial lie:
…the pulsating stream of light, or the deceitful flow from the heart of an impenetrable darkness.’ (60.)
Kurtz is the focus of the darkness, the devil-god’ himself. Kurtz is of mixed race: all Europe contributed to the making of Kurtz …’ (61).
The young Russian is shaped by Kurtz’s eloquence, the romance of the imperial myth. He evokes Conrad’s own experiences of Russian imperialism:
But when one is young, one must see things, gather experience, ideas; enlarge the mind… Here I met Mr. Kurtz.’ (62.)
Marlow describes the young Russian as a harlequin’, acting out an unreal, or mimetical part. Marlow almost envies his self-assured beliefs: …the possession of this modest and clear flame. seemed to have consumed all thought of self (63.) The Russian’s youth offers Marlow a dazzling’ contradiction to the darkness. The harlequin’s’ patches, the rags of European culture also correspond to the colours of the Imperial map seen earlier.
In part 3, Marlow’s inner conflict deepens, but he struggles to maintain his ethics: …your power of devotion, not to yourself, but to an obscure, back-breaking business’ (64.)
Disappointingly, Kurtz offers Marlow no sort of moral’ idea. Kurtz approaches the natives with the might as of a deity’ (65,) with two shot guns, …the thunderbolts of that pitiful Jupiter.’ Kurtz has become a god, and has reverted to the darkness of the savage ‘ichthyosaurs.’ To save Kurtz, Marlow lies again, convincing Kurtz of his glorious European future, reaffirming a system of beliefs Marlow has himself rejected. Kurtz, however, cannot embrace cosmic order, since he has succumbed to a primordial reality, exposing the inner primitive in himself. He recognizes only the ‘horror’ of a predatory reality. For Marlow, the ultimate rejection of imperialism by Kurtz, represents a bitter disillusion for the imperial ethic:
Since I had peeped over the edge myself, I understand better the meaning of his stare, that …was wide enough to embrace whole universe.. He had summed up — he had judged. ‘The horror!’ (66.)
When Marlow visits Kurtz’s betrothed, he lies, claiming Kurtz’s last words concerned her. Marlow fights to maintain the thin fabric of illusion separating civilization from the abysmal savagery within. For Marlow, this lie is affirms the truth:
It would have been too dark, too dark altogether.’ (67.)
The affirmation that Kurtz’s spirit will remain, suggests the survival of imperial ethics, and of inner human barbarity into the future. These qualities are universal truths in our inner nature:
We shall always remember him…’ (68.)
Perhaps Marlow’s final position is a middle ground, incorporating a respect for the immense forces within us alongside an appraisal of imperialism. Marlow’s vision of the disastrous consequences of imperialism are a warning of what man becomes when removed into an environment that arouses his inner primitive self. Marlow is unwilling to contemplate the nature of cosmic order, but does imply that this is an inexplicable phenomena, which like nature itself, should remain untouched by civilized minds. In practice, this means refraining from imposing a futile ethical order on the natural world:
He had made that last stride… …over the edge, while I had been permitted to withdraw my hesitating foot.’ (69.)
Conrad’s tale ends with Marlow’s assertion of the need to seriously question the processes of efficiency, and the very concept of ideals. For Conrad, his knowledge is Marlow’s reality – the sickening certainty of futility, which, in conflict with the imperial myth, threatens the civilized psyche when exposed to a world in which ethics mean nothing.
The arguments for the reading of Conrad’s novel as an historical critique are therefore very strong, and the imperial critique is possibly the most central aspect of Heart of Darkness.’
BIBLIOGRAPHY
The Art of failure, Conrad’s Fiction, Suresh Raval: Allen & Unwin 1996
Joseph Conrad and the adventure tradition – Constructing and deconstructing the imperial subject, Andrea White: Cambridge 1995
Conrad the Critical Heritage, Ed. Norman Sherry: Buttler and Tanner 1973
Joseph Conrad – The Major Phase, Jacques Berthoud: Cambridge 1978.
Marlow’s Lie, Richard Yazteck, Lawrence University Hypertext Journal obtained from the internet.
Notes:
(1.) Joseph Conrad and the Adventure Tradition: Constructing and Deconstructing The Imperial Subject. Andrea White, Cambridge press, 1993/’95. ‘Conrad was excluded from the British Empire Canon of 1924 – ‘The literature and art of Empire.’ P. 3.
(2.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.10
(3.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.9
(4.) Conrad , The Critical Heritage, Edited by Norman Shelly, Butler and Tanner Press 1973. P.129
(5.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.15
(6.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.38
(7.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.18
(8.) Marlow’s Lie, Richard Yazteck, Lawrence University Hypertext Journal, 1998. P.3.
(9.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.13
(10.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P. 38
(11.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P. 39
(12.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.111
(13.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 5
(14.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P 6.
(15.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.7
(16.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. Pp.5-6
(17.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.7
(18.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.8
(19.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.8
(20.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.9
(21.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.9
(22.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.52
(23.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.11
(24.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.13
(25.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 13
(26.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.14
(27.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.14
(28.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.14
(29.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.16
(31.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 18
(32.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 18
(33.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 19
(34.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.19.
(35.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p.20
(36.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.20.
(37.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.22.
(38.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.23
(39.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.24 (40.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.24 (41.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 25
(42.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 25
(43.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 26
(44.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.27
(45.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.28
(46.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.31
(47.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.32
(48.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.42
(49.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.33
(50.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.36.
(51.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.36
(52.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.10
(53.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.41
(54.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.44
(55.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. p 46
(56.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.50
(57.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.51
(57.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.97
(58.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.40
(59.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.42
(60.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.57
(61.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.71
(62.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.77
(63.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.126-7
(64.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.117
(65.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.86
(66.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.87
(67.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.111
(68.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997. P.109.
(69.) The Heart Of Darkness, Joseph Conrad, Penguin, 1997 P.101