Marlow’s narrative, in both its content and form, consistently undermines language. Marlow, in describing his trip to the Congo, considers how language is used to create the self. He alternates from rejecting it completely to acknowledging that he relies on it. Marlow portrays Africans in a story where they embody a self-definition ideal through physicality. This is in contrast to Europeans, who are unable to define themselves by language. Marlow struggles to express his feelings to his audience as a result of this exploration of the limitations in speech and his encounter Kurtz.
Marlow’s labor is what he says he loves. He claims that, although he may seem sedentary to the reader who never moves or does anything but speak, it is his work that has allowed him to understand himself better. He says, “I like the opportunity to discover myself, not what others can know. I don’t mind doing work that no one else does.” They only get to see the show and can’t tell what really is going on. Marlow, while comparing himself to other men through his dislike of work, does not see himself in terms of similarities. He suddenly contradicts this assertion, as he no longer sees himself as an individual who can find his unique qualities through interpersonal interactions. Instead, he views himself in a solitary way, reacting solely to the physical environment. Marlow believes that people can only know about themselves through a “show”; he does not think there is an “universal reality.” Individuals cannot learn anything from others beyond what they present as a “mere act.” Therefore, defining identities in relation to other individuals is futile. Marlow never quotes Africans directly. The “manager’s son” is the only one who does. Marlow will often try to interpret the meaning behind Africans’ speech, but he is not familiar with their language and treats it as meaningless. Africans speak as a direct expression of emotion or of Congo. But they are also often accompanied by silence. He recalls, for example, hearing the natives on the boat.
In the opaque air, a loud, very piercing cry of desolation sounded. It stopped. The clamor was a screaming clamor. It was as if the mist had screamed. The final eruption was an almost intolerably exaggerated shrieking.
Marlow believes that the Africans have a mass consciousness without distinct personalities because of Conrad’s or Marlow’s racism. Conrad and Marlow both share this externalized style of speech. Marlow, too, is said to speak from mists when the anonymous narration compares him to other sailors. The voice coming from the mist is not a reflection of race but rather a way of thinking about speech, which reflects “an episode” or the nature of the story, and does not reflect something in the individual.
The Europeans who are employed by the company to remove ivory out of Africa have a strong desire to improve themselves. As a result, all they talk about is themselves. Marlow’s volubility is made ridiculous by the Africans’ silence and the forest surrounding them. Marlow interrupts himself from a memory of a conversation to describe vegetation. The man was babbling about himself, and all this was grand, silent, and expectant. The speaker’s quietness is as insignificant as a temple or any other man-made creation. Marlow dismisses the men, not only for their volume, but also for what they say: “I left him running, this Mephistopheles made of papier-mache, and I thought if I stuck my finger in him I’d find nothing more than a bit of loose dust, perhaps.” Marlow’s disdain for these men is due to their volume of speech, as well as the content. “I let him go, this papier mache Mephistopheles. It seemed to me that if I poked my finger through him, I would only find a little loose soil, maybe.”
Marlow is able to grasp the meaning in the Europeans’ language, but his focus on their pettiness makes it unintelligible. Marlow “gathered in bits and pieces” that the manager was disapproving of someone when he related the conversation with his uncle. But he had reduced their words, which were useless, to isolated phrases. Marlow is unable to understand the people despite them speaking a common language. His impression of them comes from their words, which are isolated and useless. The Africans were a different experience.
Who knew if the prehistoric creature was cursing, praying, or welcoming us? We were cut from our surroundings…It was awful, yes, but there was a tiny hint of an emotional response in us to this terrible, unrelenting noise.
Marlow engages his listeners by responding “yes,” to an unspecified problem. Although he does not dispute this assessment, the sentence that “we are cut off from the comprehension of our surroundings”, suggests a sentimental need to transform his identity.
Marlow is not convinced that words can convey meanings across cultures and languages. Marlow’s insecurity can be seen in the many instances where he interrupts the story to ask whether language alone is enough to bring people together. He realizes that it is futile to try to explain the essence of a person or an experience to his audience.
“Kurtz–you get it? I was not able to see him at that time. It was a simple word. I saw the man no more than you. Do you recognize him? Do you know the storyline? What do you see? It seems I am telling you a story in vain, as no one can describe the dream-like sensation.
He remained quiet for some time. No, it’s not possible. It’s difficult to describe the sensation of living in any epoch, because that is what makes it true, meaningful, subtle, and penetrating. It’s impossible. We dream alone, and we live that way.
He paused to reflect and added: I know you see much more than what I saw back then. You know me. We could barely see each other because it was so dark. He had been nothing but a sound for quite some time, as he sat apart.
The passage starts with Marlow asserting his own understanding, which is expressed by the interjection, “You understand.” However, his narration quickly breaks down, and he falls into ellipses. A voice then has to intervene to let the reader know of his silence. Paradoxically even though he calls all attempts to explain Africa “vain”, he is still searching for words that can express that inability to understand. He multiplies the phrases he uses to overabundance, and he does this despite his belief that it would be futile to try to do so. He speaks about “the dream sensation,” “the Life-sensation,” Truth, Meaning, and Essence to describe what he’s unable describe.
Marlow attacks the tendency for words and names being used to replace the referents. He also privileges sight over hearing. Marlow returns to his story after telling himself “Ofcourse in this, you fellows can see more than me then.” You know me …”. However, the other narrator undermines that point by telling us that Marlow, in reality, is invisible. The listeners cannot see the speaker or themselves, so they rely on speaking to connect. However, in “We Live, As We Dream–Alone”, the line indicates the intense loneliness felt by the souls.
Kurtz’s madness is a result of his isolation. Kurtz’s madness is due to his seclusion. His lack of an audience meant that he was unable to check his thoughts. He wandered off “by the path of silence, utterly silence, where there could be no warning voice from a kind neighbor whispering public opinion”. Kurtz, as opposed to Marlow, is a self-constructed individual who, at best, defines themselves through their work. Marlow recalled, “I never imagined him doing, you understand, but discoursing. It wasn’t that I thought, “Now, I won’t see him “…but ‘now, I won’t hear him.'” The man was a voice. Marlow, again, asks rhetorically to confirm the words he has said, using “you’re right” and contrasting seeing with hearing. But he also concentrates on how Kurtz, himself, “presents”. He depends on dialogue, and thus on active listeners that he cannot locate in Africa. His soul can’t survive the solitude. “Alone, in the wild, it looked at himself. And, heavens!” It had gone crazy, I say. Kurtz might have realized the hollowness he had been masking with his chatter when he examined himself.
Western literature can often be seen as an expression of the personal truth of each individual. Heart of Darkness does not do this. It is a book about souls and expressions but it refuses to document any man’s interior life. Marlow may narrate, but Kurtz’s conscious is what is being explored. As in the rest the novel, this disjunction between subject and word challenges the idea of self expression. Like the anonymous reader, the writer is on the hunt for a sentence that will reveal the slight uneasiness that this narrative seems to have created without human lips.
Works Cited
The Works Cited section remains the same when paraphrasing. The source should still be cited in the Works Cited section, even if the information is paraphrased.
Conrad, Joseph. Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” was included in Harper’s 1967 compilation of his great short works.
