Names

Every once in a while, a novelist decides to become mysterious and deep in the naming of his characters. Tony Morrison, in Song of Solomon, dedicates a significant piece of the first pages describing a vast repertoire of characters and establishing ways to refer to each one of them. In some cases she includes names, in others their professions and even in some the activities they are currently undertaking. From the first character, the “North Carolina Mutual Life Insurance agent” the reader knows how significant the character’s names, professions and activities will be for the novel (3). This reminded me of José Saramago’s Blindness, due to the way in which he too, refers to the characters by their professions (the doctor, the doctor’s wife, the first blind, the thief, etc.).

Furthermore, Morrison uses references to the character’s activities for comical purposes. We are sometimes introduced to characters to only make some comment about the absurdity of the character’s situation: “the cat-eyed boy listened to the musical performance with at least as much interest as he devoted to the man flipping his wings on top of the hospital” (8). Notice how the author refers to the boy as the “cat-eyed boy” accentuating his intriguing look and his physical appearance. The same happens with the woman who begins singing in the street and the insurance agent who is further described by the different characters. The author uses different characters to narrate the story, making it more credible or complete as each of the individuals provide specific details of what’s going on.

Likewise, by using descriptions instead of names for some of the characters, allows the reader to identify which character takes what role in his family and community. For example, we are introduced to Ruth’s baby as the “deep” or “peculiar” one. Later on in the chapter, when Freddie interrupts Ruth while she breastfeeds her son and lets him fall out of surprise, we learn that “he had begun to suspect – that these afternoons were strange and wrong” (14). The reader must take into account these descriptions which foreshadow the role of the characters. The baby will possibly act as the critic of the families decisions, a voice of understanding and serenity in what appears to be an irrational and difficult situation. So far in the book the author hasn’t revealed a major motif, a protagonist of the story, a key to understanding the novel. So far, we get names.

Darkness: The Ultimate Barrier

There is a necessity to look beyond, to expand our frontiers, to conquer the unknown. Heart of Darkness, being a tale of discovery, of inner development, seduces us towards this necessity. In much the same way as King Leopold’s Ghost, we are exposed to the difficulties of travelling in the borderline between sanity and insanity, between white and black, the known and the unknown. In the first pages of the prologue, we are introduced to the uncertainties of Africa: “everyone knew that as soon as you passed the Canary Islands you would be in the Mare Tenebroso, the Sea of Darkness” (6). The wording couldn’t be better, we are once again, forced into darkness. The “darkness” of Africa for the Europeans of this era is much the same as the mystery being uncovered by a writer. Innovation in a sense is bringing light to what once was unthinkable, giving birth to new risks that burst with new forms of thinking and life.

Similarly, with the necessity of journeying towards and through the unknown, there comes a sense of curiosity, a thirst for knowledge and intense living. For the Europeans of King Leopold’s Ghost it might have been to know the “source of the Nile, a mystery that had fascinated the Europeans since antiquity,” for Marlow it was finding Kurtz, a truthful voice in a world of the unknown, and for a writer it probably is to relinquish or reveal the darkest memories, thoughts and opinions (7). The darkness filled by light becomes the words inscribed in the page, the knowledge, the observations, the memories immortalized from the ongoing movement of the light, who must find more darkness to absorb, to confess.

Furthermore, there must be a playground for all this activity. The setting for Marlow was the Congo, for King Leopold’s Ghost, the continent, the “faceless, blank, a place on the map to be explored [. . .] the Dark Continent” and for the writer the blank page and the pen (18). Menacing, all these places develop, constantly change, the Congo is not so unknown, the Dark Continent is not so dark, the blank page may not be so blank. Our thirst for knowledge might be quenched by an article, that miniscule goal of understanding how a plane works, might not be so exciting, but the attractiveness of surpassing darkness once and for all and flying further than ever imagined still exists.

Precipitating The Experience

As I think back on how Heart of Darkness impacted me, I remember how it was the tale of an experience. The way Marlow introduces Kurtz, along his journey to the heart of the Congo, makes it important to highlight how this is the story of a memory. The reenactment of what once was, and Marlow’s subsequent transformation. This mirrors the relationship between a book and a reader: What is a book, other than an experience? Being a world of its own, as many of my previous English teachers taught me, a book encompasses and creates a life of its own. The transcendence and immortality of the story depend on how well the author is able to describe, to create, to force the reader to think of an alternative existence.

The Age of Wonder does just that, creates a world of the scientists’ adventures. The way we conceive a book, roots in the way we use books to communicate the deepest passions, realities and dreams of our surroundings. Richard Holmes begins by narrating how an experiment in his early years, the precipitation of a crystal from mineral salts, has had the “eventual consequence, after many years of cooling, [. . .] to precipitate this book” (Holmes, xv). This book recounts the story of Joseph Banks, a botanist who found himself in Tahiti, and who’s voyage “launched an Age of Wonder” (Holmes, 59). Capturing the transformation of this character, the connection made between a Romantic appreciation of life and science becomes Holmes’ goal. In a way, the reader observes how Banks does the same as Holmes, they both dedicate their work to showing others the beauty that surrounds them, the possible reconciliation between spirituality and science. Even though Banks doesn’t publish “his long-dreamed-of Endeavour Voyage, or any full account of his time in Paradise,” his adventures, and the impact he had on those around him, mirror that of Marlow and in a way, those of authors in general.

Furthermore, the utility of books in our daily lives can agree with the author’s purpose of writing the book, appreciating the message, adopting some of their experience into our own lives. But the author’s free will can also use books to create chairs and flower bases, as this page promotes. The possible demise of reading, the tragic end of books as waste and part of useful objects reminds us of the finite quality of writing. As long as there are writers to publish their thoughts, experiences and imaginations, I believe there will always be readers to appreciate and be influenced by them in an infinite number of unique ways.

Describing The Unknown

For my last Heart of Darkness entry I wanted to pinpoint Mr. Kurtz’s development and meaning in the novel. I found it pretty difficult to narrow down to a sentence or two, so I will describe some of the elements that make Kurtz so special for the text. First of all, Kurtz guides all of the characters in the novel, they all have some impression of this individual and in a way they are all looking for him. When they interact with Kurtz, he takes over the conversation, as described by Marlow: “when encamped in the forest, they had talked all night, or more probably Kurtz had talked” (Conrad, 102-103). As the characters describe their interactions with Kurtz, they all seemed impressed by his ability to talk of just about any topic, and his facility to create new insight and impressive ideas. The reader’s interaction with this character rests in other’s words, the reader never interacts with Kurtz himself until his dying moments. I find it interesting how Conrad develops this urge to find Kurtz, which finally resolves in his own death.

Likewise, Conrad uses repetition to highlight important elements of Kurtz, specially his impact on others. By the end of the novel, Marlow describes how he was changed by knowing this character, starting “when the foundations of our intimacy were being laid – to endure – to endure – even to the end – even beyond” (Conrad, 123). The last piece of this sentence, combined with the repetition of the word “endure” helps the reader understand how influential Kurtz would become in Marlow’s life. The fact that Marlow has been the narrator for the whole story, that the reader has been able to know him and understand his thinking, accentuates such understanding. The reader is truly shocked by how powerfully Kurtz impacts Marlow’s life.

Furthermore, the reader needs some kind of assurance of Kurtz’s geniality. As Marlow describes his near death experience, he affirms that “Kurtz was a remarkable man. He had something to say. He said it” (Conrad, 132). The simplicity with which Marlow states his opinion of Kurtz, helps the reader imagine what it must be like to find somebody who is so confident of what he says and does, specially after having dwelled in the Congo for so long. The possibility of finding oneself, the real and true spirit behind all of our decisions and actions becomes this character. The journey into the Congo, the journey into the darkest and most remote places of our souls is the Kurtz we each have in us.

Perceptions

Slowly, I turned each page over, revealing that there was less and less material in my right hand, not much more to go. I felt the end of Heart of Darkness rushed by, I didn’t have enough material to satiate myself and keep going deeper. However, one of the elements that struck out were the different perceptions the characters have about Mr. Kurtz. As the reader ventures into the heart of the Congo, we meet one of Kurtz’s admirers: “The man filled his life, occupied his thoughts, swayed his emotions” (Conrad, 104). This sentence stands up by itself, with three short but piercing descriptions of the way Kurtz impacted this man’s life. The reader needs to create a clear image of Mr. Kurtz: Why is he so important? Why do people always talk about him? Is he good or bad? Why is he there? What does Marlow think about him? Conrad doesn’t come out with a straightforward version of Mr. Kurtz, he evades the topic, juxtaposes different perceptions about him thus forcing the reader to discover and/or create his own version of the mysterious character.

Looking back at the novel’s narrator, I noticed how Marlow isn’t as significant as one would think so. In most first-person narratives, the narrator’s perception is extremely significant in the development of the plot. In Heart of Darkness; however, Marlow becomes separated from the struggles as a whole, he doesn’t intervene when describing the Congo, possibly to point out the deeper meaning of the work. Marlow’s opinions come in brief sentences which don’t have much effect ion the reader: “Mr. Kurtz was no idol of mine” (Conrad, 109). The change in Marlow’s perception of Mr. Kurtz should be of extreme significance, but it isn’t. It is blended in with descriptions of Kurtz’s job, Marlow’s daily adventures and reenactments of conversations and fights.

Likewise, Marlow’s narration helps the reader notice significant opinions and conclusions of the character’s relationship with Kurtz. As Marlow interacts with one of Mr. Kurtz’s admirers, he states that “for him Mr. Kurtz was one of the immortals” (Conrad, 117). The difference in opinions between the three characters previously described rests in their relationship with Kurtz. As the reader continues flipping pages, he notices how Marlow becomes one of Kurtz’s admirers, showing how it is just a matter of time to appreciate something about his personality. The discovery of such admiration becomes the reader’s task, looking between the lines, looking for Marlow’s development, how he changes opinions, simply looking for fluctuations in perception.

Purposeless Actions

Through Marlow’s journey, the reader encounters several scenes in which there seems to be no real purpose in the colonist’s and slave’s actions. The first of these encounters happens when Marlow comes across a battleship which shoots projectiles at the jungle: “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” (Conrad, 22). Tactless individuals might be one thing, but shooting at the forest with a battleship seems a bit too much. Marlow’s impression of such actions reveals his sanity, until the moment, and his disgust of other white men’s stupid futile actions.

Another event in which such purposeless actions occur, happens when Marlow sees slaves “building a railway. The cliff was not in the way or anything; but this objectless blasting was all the work going on” (Conrad, 25). This scene reminded me of some of the Nazi work camp stories, one of which really impressed me. Captives had to roll huge rocks up a cliff and let them fall over to go back and retrieve the rock and start the process all over again. As individuals tried to slow down the process, they were physically punished. Conrad’s objective of repeatedly including such purposeless actions may be to reveal the insanity required to become an oppressor and the struggles within an empire’s different classes.

A third scene of such encounters, occurs when Marlow narrates that he “avoided a vast artificial hole somebody had been digging on the slope, the purpose of which I found it impossible to divine. It wasn’t a quarry or a sandpit, anyhow. It was just a hole. It might have been connected with the philanthropic desire of giving the criminals something to do” (Conrad, 26-27). Conrad’s sarcasm brings with it observations of human’s depravations under such conditions as imperialism. The misconception of being superior to other individuals brings with it the possibility the insanity of subjecting people to absurd dehumanizing tasks.

Marlow: The Indefinite

As the reader slowly grasps Marlow’s intentions, the protagonist seems unreachable, indefinite to words. Early in the novel, the narrator warns us about Marlow: “He was the only man of us who still ‘followed the sea.’ The worst that could be said of him was that he did not represent his class” (Conrad, 5). Marlow sticks to this promise, the reader is presented a sailor’s story. But not any kind of sailor story, an adventure during imperial times. By capturing the essence of colonization, of the exploitation of the colonies’ natural resources for the benefit of the mother land per its executors, the reader is forced to pay very close attention to the stories details, to the many short-lived yet vivid descriptions of slavery, massacre and the forced imposition of culture.

The novel’s protagonist seems to be carrying an overwhelming version of colonial life, as he once states that after his trips he often found himself “loafing about, hindering you fellows in your work and invading your homes, just as though I had got a heavenly mission to civilize you” (Conrad, 10). The idea of learning through experiences and travel correspond to this individual’s life destiny. His dynamic narration seems to be almost teaching his companions step by step what colonial life was all about. The reader’s role in the novel becomes to witness, observe and appreciate the protagonist’s life and all the teachings that might be extracted from this special adventure.

Marlow is slowly revealed by Conrad, sometimes making conclusions of his life which seem like compromises with the reader: “No, I don’t like work. I had rather laze about and think of all the fine things that can be done. I don’t like work – no man does – but I like what is in the work,– the chance to find yourself” (Conrad, 51). Marlow’s obsession with being a sailor, with learning about new places and people develops around his job, his responsibilities, his traveling. The possibility of experiencing the Congo through Marlow’s narration is just another of the novel’s virtues. The reader may develop a connection with Marlow, an obscure and interesting individual who can’t be described with a handful of words, but who must be appreciated through the author’s short but significant notes.

Introductions

As I reread the first pages of the novel, I got interested in the way Marlow was introduced by the narrator. In the first paragraphs, the reader is presented to the other individuals traveling on the Nellie, starting with “The Director of Companies was our captain and our host. We four affectionately watched his back as he stood in the bows looking to seaward” (Conrad, 2). Interestingly enough, the director of companies doesn’t have an important role in the novel, ceasing to be named after the first five or ten pages. The reader’s attention is diverted from the important subjects through the introduction of this character.

Later on, the narrator, one of the four individuals who traveled with the Director of Companies, introduces “The Lawyer – the best of old fellows – had, because of his many years and many virtues, the only cushion on deck, and was lying on the rug” (Conrad, 2). From the beginning of the novel, the author highlights the different classes and customs, which reveal the characters personalities and their interactions with other individuals. Following the Lawyer, “The Accountant had brought out already a box of dominoes, and was toying architecturally with the bones” (Conrad, 2). This description of the accountants actions serves almost as a photograph of his movements, the search for equilibrium between the different domino pieces.

These presentations of the narrator’s companions share common structures, they all start with the profession of the individual followed by a description of their current actions. This enables the author to break the pattern and introduce the most important character by stating: “Marlow sat cross-legged right aft, leaning against the mizzenmast” (Conrad, 2). Notice the manner in which the narrator refers to this individual, by his first name, instead of presenting him as The Sailor. By not starting in the middle of action, by slowly introducing his subject, Conrad creates suspense and diverts the reader’s attention to finally pose the spotlight on his protagonist’s ways.