462A

ND

REW

MIC

HA

ELR

OB

ERTS

463regim

eof

utterance’,of

thesentence

‘I(a

man)

lovehim

(am

anY(C

loset,161):

(1)‘I

donot

lovehim

—I

hatehim

’;(2)

‘Ido

notlove

him,

Ilove

her’;(3)

‘1do

not

lovehim

;she

loveshim

’;(4).

‘1do

notlove

him;

Ido

notlove

anyone’.All

ofthese

seemto

bein

playin

Marlow

’sscene

with

theIntended.

Num

ber3

(‘1do

notlove

him;

sheloves

him’)

isreadily

availableas

adefence,

sinceit

happensto

betrue

thatthe

Intendedloves

Kurtz

(thoughM

arlowseem

skeen

tostress

theenduring

andtranscendent

power

ofher

loveon

limited

evidence).N

umber

2(‘I

donot

lovehim

,I

loveher’)

isim

pliedin

Marlow

’stalk

ofthe

beautyof

theIntended

andhis

hintingat

anundisclosed

orunconscious

reasonfor

visitingher.

Num

ber1

(‘Ido

notlove

him—

Ihate

him’)

hasalw

aysbeen

implicit

inM

arlow’s

mixed

attitudeof

fascination,adm

iration,fear

anddisgust

towards

Kurtz.

Num

ber4

(‘Ido

notlove

him;

Ido

notlove

anyone’)w

ouldil

luminate

Marlow

’scontinuing

bachelorstatus,

which

becomes

athem

eand

problemonly

inC

hance.M

ostevident

ofall,

howeve

isa

fifthtransform

ationw

hichSedgw

ickadds,

observingthat

itis

characteristicof

Nietzsche

andunderlies

Freud’sproject

soin

tim

atelythat

itdoes

notoccur

tohim

tom

akeit

explicit:‘1

donotlove

him,

Iam

him’

(Closet,

162).Sedgw

ick’sperception

thatthe

emer

gen

cein

thenineteenth

centuryof

adefinition

ofthe

‘homosexual’

interm

sof

samen

essoffered

aw

ayof

concealin

gand

expressingsam

e-sexdesire

throughim

agesof

self-love(C

loset,160—

1),opens

thepossibility

ofalternative

interpretationsof

many

ofthe

pairsof

male

doublesthat

arefound

inC

onrad’sw

ork.In

thecase

of‘H

eartof

Darkness’,

Marlow

’splacing

of theIntended

asone

ofK

urtz’spos

sessions,co

mparale

tothe

ivoryin

which

hetraded,

isrevealed

aspart—

ofhii

econcirijofrp

r&

dim

endesire

,com

phcitw

ithboth

thestructures

of,patrir

dth

theeconom

iesofem

pire.T

hislink

iseT

ucidatedby

Ingaray:

The

useof

andtraffic

inw

omen

subtendand

upholdthe

reignofm

asculinehom

(m)o-sexualit

evenw

hilethey

maintain

thathom

(m)o-sexuality

inspeculations,

mirror

games,

identifications,

andm

oreor

lessriva]rous

appropriations,w

hichdefer

itsreal

practice...

.The

exchangeof

wom

enas

goodsaccom

paniesand

stimulates

exchangesof

other‘w

ealth’am

onggro

ups

ofm

en.

6

Conrad’s

textcontinues

thistraffic

onthe

levelof

epistemologç

byoffering

tom

alereaders

arich

seriesof

mirror

games

andid

entffications,

involvingthe

exchangeof

wom

enas

theobjects

ofknow

ledge.

6.L

uceIrigaray,

This

SexW

hichIs

Not

One,

trans.C

atherinePorter

(Ithaca,N

’C

ornellU

P,1985),

p.172.

J.H

ILL

ISM

ILL

ER

Should

We

Read

“Heart

ofD

arkness”?tT

heinaccessible

incitesfrom

itsplace

ofhiding.U

acquesD

errida)

Should

we

read“H

eartof

Darkness?”

May

we

readit?

Must

we

readit?

Or,

onthe

contrar

oughtw

enot

toread

itor

allowour

studentsand

thepublic

ingeneral

toread

it?S

houldevery

copybe

takenfrom

allthe

shelvesand

burned?W

hator

who

givesus

theauthority

tom

akea

decisionabout

that?W

hois

this“w

e”in

whose

name

Ispeak?,1iat.com

munity

forms

thatc’e”?

Noi:bing

couldbe

me

prollematic

thaih

ebT

aridappeal

t&

som

eho

9gneousau-

thoritativebody,

sayprofessors

ofE

nglishliteratuie

everywhere,

ça

pabTefd

idin

gco

llectivelj7

heth

er“w

e”should

read“H

eartof

Darkness.”

By

“read”I

mean

note

words

passively&

oughthe

rnindor

eadjn

int

etroig

-sensa,

anactiV

ereso

nsy

hiu

iesonse

tni]eisj.iitice

toa

bookb

gijg

jiwre.

language_taits.-tw

.n,the

lang!.lageof

attestation,evéW

thoughthai:langw

agem

ayrem

ainsilent

orim

Wicit. S

uch

are

Part

oflh

eproblem

,as

youcan

s1s

thatit

isim

possibleto

de

cideauthoritatively

whether

ornot

we

shouldread

“Heart

ofD

arkness”

without

readingit

inthat

strongsense.

By

thenit

istoo

late.I

havealready

readit,

beenaffected

byit,and

passedm

yjudgm

ent,perhaps

recordedit

forothers

toread.W

hichof

us,how

ever,w

ouldor

shouldw

antto

takesom

eoneelse’sw

ordfor

what

isin

abook?

Each

must

readagain

inhis

orher

turnand

bearw

itijItoth

at

readingjh

or

herturn.

Iaris

mhout

which

Jacquesflia

ahas

hadso

muchy,

Paul

Celan

says,“N

oone

bdrs

witness

foi_

wi

ess.’This

m1

I5ealted

täd”N

onecan

iieading

foryou.”

Each

must

readfor

himself

orherself

andanew

.T

hisstructure

isinscribed

in“H

eartof

Darkness”

itself.

The

primary

narratorbears

witnçss

throughexact

cjtationto

what

hehe

arT

oja

jiajni

thedeck

ofcruissngyaw

I’N

1115

heand’tl

otherm

en,the

Law

yer,the

Accountant,

theD

irectorof

Com

panies,re

resentativesof

advancedcapj!alism

azdin

eris

m,

waited

fort

etide

tourn

sbeyc1datd

ow

nth

eT

heyhave

fFrom

‘Should

We

Read

‘Heart

ofD

arkness’?”in

Conrad

inA

frica:N

ewEssays

on“H

eartofD

arkness,’ed.A

tticde

Lange

andG

ailF

inchamw

ithW

ieshiwK

rajka(N

ewY

ork:C

olum

biaU

P,2002),

pp.2

1—33,

37—39.

Reprinted

byperm

issionof

East

European

Quar

terly.N

otesare

theauthor’s.

r

L

I.,

-:

r±

-&‘H

464

J.H

ILU

Sfu

LL

ER

1,..

Cyçit’.

—

enoughw

ea’lthan4

leisureto

taketim

eoff

tod

oas

at

aestheticend

Initself

what

Marlow

hasdone

forjy

,ga

professionalseam

an.T

hessio

nofth

j5rim

ar

fijn

arm

oris

neversp

eced

.H

ecites

witff’vhat

there

ad

is1

dto

believeis

corien

tious

andm

eticulousaccuracy

justw

hatM

arlowsaid.

‘fM

r1àw

saId,put-‘ith

ii?quotition

marks

thro

ug

ho

ut,i

astoryç

therecounting

ofand

accountingfor

what

hecalls

an“experience”

that“seem

edsom

ehowto

throwa

kindof

ligh.o

a.

rytliingabout

me—

and

intom

ythoughts.

Itas

sombre

enough,too—

andpitiful—

notex

,1traord

inary

lnany

way—

notvery

cleareither.

No,

notvery

clear,•

‘icand

yetit

seemed

tothrow

akind

oflight”(7).

That

recountingand

•accounting

centerson

anattem

ptto

“renderjustice,”

asM

arlowputs

it,to

Kurtz,

them

anhe

meets

at“the

farthestpbintof

navigaH

Lionand

theculm

inatingp

óin

tof

rnTeiöer

ce.”W

hatM

arlow•

saysat

thebeginning

isals

an-implicitprom

iseto

hislisteners

andto

usas

readers.H

eprom

isesthat

hew

illto

themand

tous

thei1

lum

rnatn

he

hasreceived

•N

or1

Inv

eC

onrad’sreaders

failedto

respondto

thisdem

andfor

interpretation.A

largesecondary

literaturehas

sprungup

aroundH

eartof

Darkness.”

These

essaysand

booksof

coursehave

aco

nstative

dimension.

They

oftenprovide

preciousinform

ationabout

FJ

‘C

onrad’slife,

abouthis

experiencesin

Africa,about

latenin

eteenth

3ç’

centuryim

perilism,

especiallyabout

thatterrible

murdering

devas.,

tationw

roughtby

King

Leopold

inthe

Beig

iacongaas

itwas

thenii

Lalled,

aboutthe

supposed“originals”

ofcharacters

in“H

eartof

C•.—

Darkness,”

ando

on.T

hissecondayliteratüre,

ho

ver;

oftenalso

hasan

explicitperform

ativedim

ension.C

onad’snovella

isbrought

‘sbefore

thebar

ofjusEice,

arrign&l

tried,andjudged.

The

criticacts

asw

itnessof

hisor

herreading,

alsoas

interrogator,prosecuting

at--

torney,jury,

andpresiding

judge.T

hecritic

passesjudgm

entand

rendersjustice.

“Heart

ofD

arknessh

a,,fenreceived

aheavy

sentence

fromits

critics.It

hasbeen

condemned,

ofthiThi

ary

terms,

•racjtr

xis

t,som

etimes

inthe

same

essayas

both.E

xamples

arethe

influentialessay

of1975

bythe

distinguishedN

igeriannov

elistC

hinuaA

chebe(“C

onradw

asa

bloodyracist”)

oran

essayof

1989by

Bette

London:

“Qependent

uponunexam

inedassum

ptions,.e

mse

lves

culturallysuspeE

ft,he

nay

j,i

tsrpresen

tation

sof sex

andgender,

supportsdubious

culturalclaim

s;itpaxtiejpates

inand

promotes-a

racialas

well

asgender

ideologyth

ah

enarrative

repre’

entsa

stransparent

‘nd‘self

nt’”i’Edw

ardSaid’s

judgment

in-,

tultu

reicindT

inperialism,

thoughjiving

Conrad

hisdue

asa

criticof

) ft

mpen

alisman

d-

reeegmzpig,

mp

lexi

domg

Justiceto

These

citationsare

fromthe

valuableC

riticalH

isto”

inJoseph

Conrad,

Heart

ofC

c..D

arkness,ed.

Ro

ssC

.M

urfln,2nd

ed.(B

oston—N

ewY

ork:B

edfordB

ooksof

St.M

artin’s‘3

...,‘yç

(Press,

1989

),p

p.

107,109.

L.‘

-)U

?.

3--

SHO

UL

DW

eR

en

“H

nT

orD

Mucr.xss”?

465

“Heart

ofD

arkness,”is

inthe

endequally

severein

hissum

ming

up:“T

hecultural

andideological

evidencethat

Conrad

was

wrong

inhi

Eurocentric

way

isboth

impressive

andrich.”2

These

arepow

erfulindictm

ents,if

wth

cy

y_re

nd

ejju

pce..K

.to

“Heart

ofD

arkness,”if

theirw

itnessm

aybe

trusted,it

might

seeminevitably

tofollow

thatthe

novellashould

notbe

read,taught,

orw

rittenabhut,

exceptperhaps

asan

example

ofso

me

thingdetestable.

Nevertheless,

co

idin

gtà

theparadox

Ihave

al

readym

entioned,yozcould

on]Eybe

sureaboãt

thisby

readingthe

novellayourself,

therebyputting

yourself,if

thesecritics

areright,

indanger

ofbecom

ingsexist,

racist,and

Eurocentric

yourself.E

venso,

noone

bearsw

itnessfor

thew

itness,and

noone

elsecan

doyour

readingforyou.

Topass

judgment

anewit

isnecessary

totake

therisk

andread

“Heart

ofD

arkness”for

yourself.I

shallnow

tryto

dothat.

Ibegin

byclaim

ingthat

“Heart

ofD

arkness”is

aliterary

work

nothisfby,

autdtiiograpctravel

writing,

journ

al,-

orany

othergenre.

/Injust

what

way

does“H

eartof

Darkness”

invitereading

aslitei

“%âture

ratherthan,

say,as

ahistorical

accounto

aan

autobiograpljy?,.T

hem

ostobvipus

wa

isin

thedisplacem

entfrom

Conrad

to-

neith

fli&

iis

tobe

identifiedw

ithC

onrad1

anym

orethan

Socrates,In

thePlatonic

dialoguesis

to_beidentified

witl’ThTato.

The

readerw

hosays

conradspeaks

directlyf,m

self

eitherin

thew

ordsof

thefram

enarrator

orin

Marlow

’s‘iv

ord

oes

soat

hisor

herperil

and

jndefiance

ofthe

most

ele

mentary

litera

conventions.W

hateverthe

frame

narrater-orM

ar

-

sis

irped

orsuspended

pie

eñ

tdim

plicitlyih, parabasis,’7’

/\bT

bin

gpresented

asth

tspF

echof

anim

aginarych

arac1er”-..

yj

Asecond

way

Heart

ofD

arknesspresents

itselfas

literatureis

theelaborate

tissueof

figuresand

otherrhetorical

devicesthat

make

up,so

tospeak,

theti,tture

ofthe

text. The

simplestand

most

obviousof

thesedevices

isthe

useofsiruiles,

signalledby

“like”or

“as.”T

hesesim

ilesdisplace

thingsthat

arenam

edby

oneor

the•other

ofthe

narratorsand

assertthat

theyare

likesom

ethingelse.

.

This

something

elseform

sa

consistentsubtext

orcounterpoint

definingeverything

tFla

nb

dseáil

hidingsom

ethingre

truth

fuL

or

essentialbeM

nd-

The

firstuse

ofthe

Iu

iof

screensthat

arelifted

toreveal

more

screensbehind,

intriicture

thatis

apaly

ptic

inthe

etym

olo

gi..\/

calsense

of“unveiling,”

aiw

eWai

theseiiè

of liáviito

dow

ith‘-

death,ju

djm

nh

nd

oth

erlastthiingscom

esw

het

thefram

enar

-raturdescribing

liiievening

scenejust

beforesunset,

when

thesky

Us“a

benignim

mensity

ofunstained

light”(4)

asit

looksfrom

the2.

Edw

ardSaid,

Culture

andIm

perialism(N

ewY

ork:V

intageB

ooks,1994),

p.30

(seethe

selectionin

thisN

ortonC

riticalE

dition].,/

i.’

,.4,-

-

,4.

466J.

HILLIS

Mru,.aa

Nellie

atanchor

inthe

Tham

esestuary,

says:“the

verym

iston

thesse

xm

arshesw

aslike

ag

andradiant

fabric,hung

fromthe

wooded

risesinland,

anddraping

thelow

shoresin

diaphanousfolds”

(4—em

phasisadded).

These

similes,

asthey

followin

aline

punctuatingthe

textat

rhythmic

iiitërvals,are

notcasual

orfo

rtuitous.

They

forma

system,

apow

erfulundertext

beneaththe

first-level

descriptivelanguage.

They

invitethe

readerto

seew

hatevereither

ofthe

narratorssees

andnam

eson

thefirst

levelof

narrationas

aveil

orscreen

hidingsom

ethinginvisible

ornot

yetvisible

be

hindit,

thoughw

heneach

veilis

liftedit

uncoversonly

anotherveil

behindit,

accordingto

aparadox

essentialto

thegenre

ofthe

apo

calypse.

Apocalypse:

thew

ordm

eans“unveiling”

inG

reek.If

onehad

tonam

ethe

genreto

which

“Heart

ofD

arkness”belongs

theansw

erw

ouldbe

thatit

isa

failedapocalypse,

or,strictly

speaking,since

allapocalypses

ultimately

failto

liftthe

lastveil,it

isjust

that,a

mem

berof

thegenre

apocalypse.T

hefIlm

modelled

on“H

eartof

Darkness,”

Apocalypse

Now

was

brilliantlyand

accuratelynam

ed,except

forthat

word

“now.”

Apocalypse

isnever

now.

Itis

always

tocom

e,a

thingof

thefuture,

bothinfinitely

distantand

imm

ediatelyim

minent.

-In

“Heart

ofD

arkness,”it

is,to

borrowC

onrad’sow

nw

ords,as

ifeach

episodew

erelike

“some

sordidfarce

actedin

frontof

asin

is-1

“Z’ter

back-cloth”(1

3-em

phasis

added).T

henovella

isstructured

as/

along

seriesof

episodeseach

oneof

which

appearsw

ithextrem

evividness

beforethe

reader’sim

aginaryvision;

broughtthere

byC

onrad’srem

arkabledescriptive

power,

onlyto

vanishand

bere

placedby

thenext,

asthough

afigured

screenhad

beenlifted

tore

vealyet

anotherfigured

screenbehind

it,‘iththe

darknessbehind

1,likethat

“sinisterback-cloth”

Marlow

names.

Athird

distinctivelyliterary

featureof

“Heart

ofD

arkness”has

alreadybeen

named.

The

novellais

ironicthrough

aridthrough.

The

readerm

ightw

ishticis

wereoti

adep1ore

Conrad’s

radicalirony,

butth

erJt

isll

indubitablefact.

“Heart

ofD

arknss”

isa

masterw

orkoL

iron

3ças

when

theeloquent

idealism’

pfK

urtz’spanph1et

pp‘T

heS

uppressio

rSav

age

Custom

s”is

un

dcu(y

the

phjasescja

I4at

thebottom

:“E

xterminate

allthe

brutes!”or

asth

eyin

gA

fricans

inthe

“groveof

death”are

called“helpers”

inthe

great“w

ork”of

civilizingthe

contin

ent

(19).M

ilow

’snarrative

inparti&

laiistep

&l1

iTfro

ñthroughout.

The

problemis

that

jtjsim

possibleto

becertain

howto

takethat

irony.liim

yis,

asH

egeland

KierkgaardE

aid,‘infinite

absolutenegativ

ity,”or

asF

riedrichSchlegel

said,a

“permanent

parabasis,’a

con

tinuoussuspension

ofcIeay

iden

tffiabnin

g.

It‘isa

priicip1eof

unintelligibility,or,

inSchlegel’s

words,

“Unverstundlichkei

Isacois

jocalfe

atu

reof

Marlow

’snarrative

style—saying

CL

SHO

ULD

WE

Ren

“HEA

RT

OF

DA

1ucr.Ess”?

467

onet

andm

c1ngan

oth

er,as

when

theE

uropeansatt

Central

Statio

nen

gg

edm

theternble

work

of

impenalist

co

quest,the

“merry

danceof

deathand

trade,”are

saidto

be,in

yetiliè

sir

nfl

like“piig,rim

s”:“T

heyw

anderedhere

andthere

with

theirabsurd

longstaves

intheir

hands,like

alot

offaithless

pil

grims

bew

itched

insid

ea

rotten

fence”

(23

-em

phasis

added

).T

hissty

listicundercu

tting

ism

iined

inth

atlarg

erstructure

inw

hcb

eachep

ideis

iela

ced

bth

etE

spThat each

issuspended

byffia

irow

ledge

‘Thatit

isoy

.C

ernp

oary

appearance,-

notsom

eultim

ategoal

ofr

eationattain

ed.

Each

iscertain

toiian

ib

ereplaced

lythe

nx

sceneto

beenacted

beforethat

ijilster

blackJack’.ckrth.•j

i.

Afourth

ostentatiousliterary

featureof

“Heart

ofN

rkness”is

therecurrent

prosopopoeias,the

personfficationsof

thedarkness

(whatever

thatw

ordm

eanshere’)

This

beginsin

thetitle.

The

darknesshas

a“heart.”

Prosopopoeiais

theaip

tThöf

a—nam

e,a

fraice-to

theab,,sent,the

inanimate,

orthe

dead.By.a

speechact,

prosopopoeiareates

thefic

tiiT

hfen

ah

?1

where

inreality

thd

reis

none.A

llprosopopoeias

arealso

catachreses.T

heym

ovethe

verbalfiction

ofa

perso

ny

over

onam

eso

meth

ing

un

kno

wn/u

nkno

wab

le,and

therefore,sth

cd

spe’iddng,ininam

ililein

anyliteral

languag

e,som

ethingtädically

otherthan

lum

anpersonality:

som

ethin

gãb

sdlh

iaiiim

ai,

ordead.

It’i?iioaccident

thatso

many

traditionalex

ampIero

fcataellresare

alsopersonffications:

“headland,”“face

ofam

ounta

tàn

oflandalile

leg.““H

eaH

)árk

hjs

anothersu

chatach

resticrosopooeia,

togive

itits

barbarous-sounding

Greek

rhetoricalnam

e.W

eproject

ourow

nbodies

onth

,landscape

andon

surroundingãrflTacts

Wgve

thedarkness

a1leart.

In“flrt

ofD

arkness”prosovpyeias

areIiie

fm

eans’of

fnm

ingjy

inclictio

nw

hatC

onradcalls,

ina

misleading

andm

adèquate

rnpq

“thedarb

ss

1”or

“thew

ild’erness,”or,

most

simpIy

ndpefp

mosL

trt4hJu

1ly

,.“j”

More

thana

dozenexplicit

,pezznfficationsof

thissom

ething,tla

tistio

relly

aperson

butai

f“it,’/asex

uaL

ptrans-sexual,

impersonal,

i,pdiffren

t,though

toçia

rlow

itseem

slike

aperso

rhytm

icaflyp9sfc

tuate

“Heart

ofD

arkness”like

arecurring

leitIhotif.—T

he-wililerness

surroundingthe

Central

Station,say

sM

arlow,

“struckm

eas

something

greath4

inv

incih

isJi]evil

ortruth,

waitinj

patien

tljfor

thepssin

gaw

ayof

thisfantastic

hivasion”(23).

Of

thatsilent

nocturnalila

rne]w

ai1

ow

asserts,“A

llthis

was

great,expectant,

mute,

while

them

an[one

ofthe

agentsat

thestation]

jabberedabout

himself.

Iw

ondçred.,w

l’ietherthe

stjihiesson

theface

ofthe

imm

ensitylookipgat

ustw

ow

erem

eantasan

appealoras

am

enace.C

ou

ldw

ehandle

thatdum

bthing,

orw

ouldit

handleus?I

felt

J.H

ILL

ISM

ILL

ER

howbig,

howconfoundedly

big,w

asthat

thin

gth

atcouldn’t

talk(

an

deth

ap

swas

deafas

well’

Z6Z

ëiiip11sisadded).“It

was

the‘\

stiliessof

anim

placableforce

broodingover

aninscrutable

inten

tion.It

lookedat

youw

itha

vengefulasp

ect...I

feltoften

itsm

ys.<

teriousstillness

watching

me

atm

ym

onkeytricks,

justas

itw

atchesyou

fellows

[hislisteners

onthe

Nelliej

performing

onyour

respectivetight-ropes

for—w

hatis

it?half

acrow

na

tumble—

”(34).

The

wilderness

destry

siha

kindof

diabolicalseduction:

liew

ildernesshad

pattedhim

onth

Thdand

behold,it

was

likea

ball—an

ivoryball;

ithad

caressedhim

,and—

lo!—he

hadw

ithered;it

hadtaken

him,

lovedhim

,em

btacedhim

,got

intohis

veins,consum

edhis

flesh,and

sealedhis

soulto

itsow

nby

thein

conceivablecerem

oniesof

some

devilishinitiation.

He

was

itsspoiled

andpam

peredfavourite”

(4(T

he

Africans

atK

urtz’sInner

Station

vanish“w

ithoutany

perceptiblem

ovement

ofretreat,

asif

theforest

thathad

ejectedthese

beingsso

suddenly.had

drawn

themin

againas

theIreath

isdraw

aJongaspiration”

(59).T

hislast

citationindicates

anotherand

notunpredictable

featureof

theprosopopoeias

in“H

eartof

Darkness.”

The

personificationof

thew

ildernessis

matched

bya

co

pan

din

grisfo

rniaiio

nf

theJust

asin

Thom

asH

ardy’sT

heR

eturnof

theN

ativethe

extravagantp

ersonffication

ofthe

heathin

thenight

time

thatopens

thenovel

leadsto

theassertion

thatE

ustaciaV

ye,w

horises

froma

mound

inthe

heathto

standoutlined

inthe

darkness,is,

soto

speak,tper

sonfficationof

thepersonification,

tsstallization

orv

isflileethin

“Heart

ofD

arkne”

allthe

Africans

Mailow

meets

)siip

rese

naIlv

es

and

ofila

Eit

ThoughT

tm

ayra

ct

forM

arlow(n

ot-c

essa

jij1

Cqiirad,

thereader

shouldre

Jm

ember)

tsee

theA

fricansas

mscrutably

“other,”as

simple

“sav-

agéi”br“p

rimitie,”h

enih

efrculture

isolder

thanany

European

‘dñen

das

com

plo

ris

ticte

ifnot

more

si,,th

iioth

rness

‘i

stried

forthe

prirn

ajp

rpof

making

theA

fricansviibIç

embodim

entsan

-aau

thhdarln

ess,isa

perso

ri.,,

This

isiiiiderly

ing

featureofall’M

drIow’s

popapoeiac;

but-itis2

inthe

scenew

hereK

urtz’sA

fricanm

istressap

f’/p

earson

theshore;

,J

Shew

assavage

andsuperb,

wild-eyed

andm

agnificent;there

was

something

ominous

andstately

inher

deliberateprogress.

And

inthe

hushthat

hadfallen

suddenlyupon

thew

holeso

rrow

fulland,

theim

mense

wilderness,

thecolossal

bodyof

thefecund

andm

ysteriouslife

seemed

tolook

ather,

pensive,as

thoughhad

beenlookin

atth

egfJts

own

tenebrousan

passionateso

ul....

estood

lookingat

usw

itlüt

astir,

I

r2•‘

SHO

UL

DW

EB

ER

n“H

aR

TO

FD

A.m

cNE

ss”?469

andlike

thew

ildernessitself,

with

anair

ofbrooding

overan

inscrutablepurpose.

(60—61)

This

passage,like

theone

describingthe

way

thew

ildernesshas

seducedK

urtz,seem

sto

indicatethat

this“it”

isafter

allgendered,

thatit

isfern

fflaèolhssa1

aãië

nouT

hfe

Sincethe

wilderness

issqpposedtp

resent

ate

riousk

now

IeJ9

ikeev

ilor

with

the“se,dst”

asertionsM

arlowm

akesabout

thew

ayw

omen

ingenel

are,hkeK

urs

Intenjieil,,of

it,’invinciblliiliiocent

aiiiñ

ora

nt.

At

theleast

onew

ouldhave

tosay

thattw

oco

ntra

dcto

ryéis

tm

ythsabout

wom

enare

ascribedto

Marl1

heu

“I

—--—

a—

--

—

_____

ropan

males

tendencyto

jrson4y

theearth

asa

greatm

other,full

ofan

imm

emorial,

se&ictive

wisdom

,and

theE

uro

an

male’s

To

idesc

en

dto

wom

enas

innatey

incapableof

seeinginto

tiinasw

ell

asm

endan.

All

fourof

thesestylistic

featuresconstitute

adem

andthat

1“H

ear(

Darkness”

bere

al,e

ad

asliterature,,as

opjse

dt

beingtaken

asa

straightfoiEw

ardljzim

eticorreferenfiaL

Work

thatw

ouldJ

a1SvtheiE

eadèrto

holdC

onradhim

selfdirectly

responsiblefo

sw

hatis

saidas

thoughhe

were

ajournalist

ora

travelvte

r.D

fcourse

an

ofthese

featurescan

beused

ina

non-literaryw

ork,but

takenall

togetherthey

inviteer

declare,“This

islit

erature.’—

—

liilWe

name

ofjust

what(higher

responsibilityIoes

Conrad

jus

tifyall

thisindirection

andoricT

hidercuttirg,suspencling,

orredfrectjig

ofthe

straightforwardly

mim

eticaspect

ofhis

novella?In

Thenan

ofw

hathigher

obligailolilseverything

thatis

reTeren

tiallynam

edin

apseudo-historical

orm

imetic

way

displacedby

theseubiquitous

rhojij

4ece4e

into

sia

for

some-

thingelse?

If“H

eartof

Darkness”

isa

literaryw

orkrather

thanhis

to

orautobio

y,ju

siwtiit1

dn

dof1

iterarjwork

isit,justw

hatkind

ofaeehththfl?

The

farigrat

9r,

in—a--passage

oftencited

an4

comm

entedon,

givesthe

readejre

cio

us

clu

oan.

answerto

theseq

iestio

ns,

t’though

itis

leftto

theid

èrto

make

useof

theclue

inhis

orher..

rglin

g:

-

The

yarnsof

seamen

jiavadfrect

simplicity

thew

holem

eaj

ingF

iE]ie

sw

ithinthe

shellofadracked

nut.B

utM

arloww

asnot

typical(ifhis

propensityto

spinyarns

beexC

epted),iindto

himthe

meaning

ofx

jpisp

cicw

asnot

insidelike

akernel

butijd

e[the

Ms

has“outside

inthe

unseen”],enveloping

thetale

which

broughtit

outonly

asa

glowbrings

outa

haze,in

thelikeness

ofonth

öm

isiy1

ia1oth

tsom

etimes

arem

adevisible

bythe

spectralillumination

ofm

oonshine.(5)

-.

470J.

HIL

LIS

MIL

LE

RS

nOU

LD

Wa

Raan

“HaaT

orD

Aluuqass”?

471“To

spinyarns”

isa

clichéfor

narration.To

tella

storyis

tojoin

manyihreads

togetherto

make

acontinuous

lineleading

fromhere

tothere.

Of

thatyarn

clothm

aybe

woven,

thew

.holecloth

ofthe

truthas

opposedto

alie

that,as

theproverbial

sayinghas

it,is

“thadeup

it

ofw

holecloth,”

acloth

making

aw

ehscreen

,or

veilcoverin&

thetruth

thatrem

ainshidden

behindor

within.

This

inside/outsi&

distinctionbetw

een(‘c)

two

kindsof

tales.T

hefirst

isthe

sortof

seaman’s

yarnit

was

as

sumed

bym

anyreaders

anctcritfcsC

onradw

astelling

inhis

storiesand

nóvels.1

tm

eaninglies

within;like

theshell

ofa

crackednut.

Itakeit

thisnam

esa

realiitic,m

imefic,

reférential±ale

with

anob

viouspoint‘ànd

mobl.

Mav

io’W

talntlie

otherhand,

and,by

imp

icationat

least,this

oneby

Conrad,

sinceso

much

ofit

ism

adeup

ofM

arlow’s

narration,have

affre

nfw

ay

ofm

akingm

eaning.All

thevisible,

representaironalele1j1ents;all

thatthe

talem

akesyou

see,acc

2rdin

gto

thatfam

ousclaim

byC

onradthat

hisgoal

was

“aboveall

tom

akeyou

see,”rethere

notfor

theirow

nsakes,

as

mim

eticallyvaluable

andverifiable,

forexam

plefor

thesake

ofgiving

thereader

information

aboutim

perialismin

theB

elgian

Congo.

Those

elements

haveas

theirfunction

tom

akesom

ething

elsevisible,

what

them

anuscriptcalls

the“unseen,”

perhaps&

enthe

unseeable,as

thedark

matter

ofthe

universeor

theputa

tiveblack

holesat

thecenter

ofgalaxies

canin

principlenever

beseen,

onlyinferred.

Coqrad’s

figureis

adifferent

onefrom

thoseblack

holesabout

which

hecould

nothave

known,

thoughit

isstill

anastronom

icaltrope.

Itis

anexam

pleof

thatpeculiar

sortof

figure

thatcan

becalled

afigure

offigure

ora

figureof

figuration.Just

asthe

mist

ona

darknight

isinvisible

exceptw

henit

ism

adevisible

asa

circularhalo

aroundm

oonlight,light

alreadysec

ondaryand

reflectedfrom

thesun,

andju

stas

them

imetic

elem

entsof

Marlow

’stale

aresecondary

tothe

realthings

theyrepresent

atone

remove,

sothe

meaning

ofM

arlow’s

yarnsis

invisible

initself

andnever

named

initself.

Itis

notinside

thetale

butoutside,

“broughtout”

indirectlyby

thethings

thatare

named

andrecounted,

therebym

adevisible,just

as,foi

example,

Marlow

when

hevisits

theIntended

hearsK

urtz’slast

words

breathedin

aw

hisper

bythe

dusk:“The

duskw

asrepeating

themin

apersistent

whis

per’allaround

us,in

aw

hisperthatseem

edto

swell

menacingly

liketh

efirst

whisper

ofa

risingw

ind.‘The

horror!T

hehorror!’”

(69).T

hereader

will

notethe

way

thew

hisperedsound

isonom

atopoeicaily

echoedhere

inthe

repetitionthree

times

ofthe

word

“whis

per,”w

ithitsasp

irant

andsibilant

“whuh”

and“isp”

sounds.T

heillum

inationprovided

bythe

taleis

“spectral.”It

turnseverything

intOa

ghostlyphantom

,that

is,into

something

thatis

arevenant,

something

thathas

come

backfrom

thedead,

andthat

cannotdie,

thatw

illalw

ays,sooner

orlater,just

when

we

leastexpect

it,com

eagain.

The

miniature

lessonin

aesthetictheory

thefram

enarrator

pres

entsh&

eis

anadm

irablysuccinct

distinctionbetw

eenm

imetic

literature

andapocalyptic,

parabolic,or

allegoricalliterature,

Inthe

lattereverything

named,

with

however

much

verisimilitude,

standsfor

something

elsethat

isnot

named

directl

thatcannot

benam

eddirectly,

thatcan

onlybe

inferredby

thosethat

haveeyes

tosee

andears

tohear

andunderstand,

asJesus

putsit

inthe

parableof

thesO

werZth

Matthew

13.All

thesegenres

haveto

dow

iththe

promise,

with

death,w

iththe

trulysecret,

andw

ithlast

things,“things,”

asJesis

says,“Which

havebeen

keptsecret

fromthe

foundationofthe

world”

(Matthew

,13:

35).It

isnot

siabsurd

asit

might

seemto

cTaimthat

“Heart

ofD

arkness”is

asecular

versionof

what

are,(originally

atleast),

intertwined

religiousor

sacredgenres:

apoca

1yps,parable,

allegory.C

onradhim

selfspoke

ofthe

“piety”of

hisapproach

tow

ritingand

ofhis

motive

asquasi-religious.

“One

thingthat

Iam

certainof,”

hew

rotein

aletter

toA

rthurSym

ons,“is

thatI

haveapproached

theobject

ofm

ytask,

thingshum

an,in

aspirit

ofpiety

The

earthis

atem

plew

herethere

isgoing

ona

mystery

jlaych

ildish

andpoignant,

ridiculousand

awful

enoughin

allco

nscience.

Once

inI’ve

triedto

behavedecently.

Ihave

notdegraded

thequasi-religious

sentiment

bytears

andgroans;

andif

Ihave

beenam

usedor

indignant,I’ve

neithergrinned

norgnashed

my

teeth.”

3In

thecase

of“H

eartof

Darkness”

justw

hatis

that“som

ethingelse”

forthe

revelationof

which

thew

holestory

isw

ritten?T

heclear

answer

isthat

thesom

ethingelse

isthat

“it”that

Marlow

’snW

ationsopersistently

personifiesand

thatK

urtzpasses

judgment

onwhèn

hesay

“The

horror!T

hehorror!”

Everything

inthe

wh

2je

story,all

them

imetic

andvery

similar

elements,

isfor

thesake

ofbringing

oii

igliip

seof

that“it,”

therevelation

ofw

hichis

pro

mised

bythe

frame

iratórW

Hih

definesthe

Characteristic

indi

rectionof

meaning

inM

arlow’s

yarns.-

Many

critics,perhaps

evenm

ot

critics,of

“Heart

ofD

arkness”have

made

thefundam

entalm

istakeof

takingthe

storyas

anex

ani

pieof

thefirsi

kindof

seaman’s_yarl).

That

iscertainly

thew

ayA

chebe”readsit.

Those

critics,like

F.R

.L

eavis,w

hohave

noticedall

thelanguage

aboutthe

“unspeakable”and

“inscrutable”“it”

havealm

osturiversally

condemned

ftas

som

uchm

oonshinein

teçfein

gw

ithC

onrad

’gift

1r

making

yousee,

hisgift

foraescriptiyè

vividness.A

tleast

suchcritid

iave

takenthe

troubleto

readcare

fully

andhave

noticedthat

thereare

important

verbalelem

ents1in

3.Joseph

Conrad,

Collected

Letters,

4:113.

TiI

i1472

J.H

ILL

ISM

ILL

ER

thetext

thatm

ustbe

accountedfar

somehow

andthat

donot

fitthe

straightforward

mim

etic-

Isthe

“something,”

the“it,”eveaJed,

broughtinto

theopen

where

itm

aybe

seenand

judged?T

hecleai.ñ

swer

isthat

itis

not.T

he“it”

remains

tothe

end“unnam

able,”“iicrutabIe,”

“unspeak—

-bIe

falsely,o

rat

aiiyratu

rpro

vab

Jy[p

ejj.iffiedas

havingcon

.:scio

use

andintéition

byM

arlow

’siheto

rjcnam

edonly

ladiréctIyazfd1nadecjiiate1yby

allthose

smiles

andfigures

ofveils

beinglifted.

How

couldsom

etliihjbereveaT

eJthatcan

onlybe

reeale

dto

thosew

hohave

crossedover

thethreshold

ofdeath?

The

readeris

toldthat

“it”is“T

heEofrorfT

hehorror!”

butjustw

hatthat

means

isnever

explainedexcept

inlilnts

andindirections.

Nothing

fiuiire

canbesaid

ofthe“iF

’ep

tth

iEisiT

otnothing,that

tis,

thougheven

thatis

notcertain,

sinceit

may

bea

projection,not

asolicitation,

call,or

demand

fromsom

ethingw

hollyother.

Of

the“it”

onem

ustsay

whatW

allaceStevens

saysof

the“prim

itivelike

anorb,”

“atthe

centeron

thehorizon”:

“Itis

andit/Is

notand,

there

fore,is.”

If“it”

isw

hollyother

itis

wholly

other,and

nothingm

orecan

besaid

ofit

exceptby

signsthat

confessin

theirproffering

totheir

inadequacy.E

achveil

liftsto

revealanother

veilbehind.

The

structureof

“Heart

ofDarkness”

isthe

structureof

theen

dlesslyrdeferred

pro

nis

theip

hcit

promise

thatM

arlowm

akesat

thrbiginxiingofhis

talew

henhe

saysthat

thdiighhis

meeting

with

Kurtz,

“thefarthest

pointof

naviationadd

theculm

inatingpoint

ofiy

experience,”w

as“not

veryclear,”

nevertheless“it

seemed

tothrow

akind

oflight”(7).

Marlow

promises

topass

thislight

orillu

minadon

onto

hishearers.’T

heprim

atynarrator

passesit

onto

us,fh

eead

ers.T

hefuffillineniof

thisprom

isetoreveal,

however,

reT

hiajzsalw

aysfuture,

something

yetto

come,

eschatologicalor

rues

sianicrather

thanteleological.

Itis

anih

dthat

cannever

come

within

theconditions

ofthe

seriesof

episodesthat

reachesout

tow

ardsit

aslife

reachestow

ardsdeath,

oras

Revelations

promises

anim

minentm

essianiccom

ingthatalw

aysrem

ainsfuture,

tocom

e,but

onlybeyond

thelast

inthe

series,across

thethreshold

intoanother

realmand

anotherregim

e.It

isin

thenam

eof

thisnrevea1ed

andunrevealable

secret,outofoblijition

toit,in

responseto

thedem

and/ifiria

kes,

while

stillreilmning

eie

tániliriacE

ëssible,thatall

“Heart

oFDarkness2L

jsw

ritten.T

heresen

&w

ithi

“thh

dv

ellaof

thism

accessible

secret,a

secretthatnevertheless

incitesto

narration,isw

hatm

akesppro

riatet

speakof“flo

flZ)ark

aess”asliterature

Since

Kurtz

embodies

thedarkness

itislogical

orinevitable

thathe

himself

shouldbecom

ethe

“god”that

theA

fricansw

orshipand

crawl

befor&in

trikiiigantic

ipati6

ortfle

fais

orvio

Int

auth

ontn

anpossib

thties

th

cap1faJIstiipena1jsmK

urtz’sj

SHO

UL

DW

ER

r.an“H

aMrr

OP

Du

ucN

Ess”?

473

soul,like

the“it,”

was

an“inconceivable

mystery”

(66).H

ehas

“a“m

ileof

indefinablem

eaning”(67).

“His

ias

anim

pçnçtrabledark

ness”(68).

Marlow

’sallegiance

toK

urtzburies

him“in

avast

gravefull

ofunspeakable

secrets”(62),

justis

Kurtz’s

African

mistress

matches

thew

ilrness

inhaving

“anair

ofbrooding

overan

inscrutable

purpose”(61),

an“air

ofhidden

knowledge,

ofpatient

expectation,

ofunapproachable

silence”(56).

Itw

as“the

stillnessof

anim

placableforce

broodingover

aninscrutable

intention”(34).

Kurtz

isno

more

ableto

remove

thelast veiL

inad

iikimae—

reveladon

thanM

arlowor

Conrad

canin

theirnarrations.

Inall

threecases

aprom

iseis

made

whose

fulfillment

ordefinitive

no

nfulfillm

entalw

aysrem

ainsyet

tocom

e.W

hatcan

onesay

toexplain

thiscontradicdon,that

Kurtz’s

magnificent

idealisticeloquence

isat

thesam

etim

einhabited

byan

impenetrable

darkness?B

othM

arlow’s

narration-and

Kurtz’s

,loq

uen

ce,since

bothare

basedon

thatspecial ,e

ech

aètcalled

a“ro

pise

,,are

subjectto

two

ineluctablefeatures

ofany

promise:

,)

A-prom

isew

ouldnot b

ea

promise

butrather

aconstative

ftre‘¼.1m

owledge

ifit

were

notpossible

thatitw

illnot

bekept.A

possiblenon-fulfillm

ent ‘isan

inalienablestructural

featureof

anyprom

ise,w

hetherthat

promise

ism

adein

literatureor

inpolitics.

2)A

ny

,i

promise

isan

invocationof

anunknow

nand

unknowable

future,of

.—i

secretother

thatrem

ainssecret

andis

invitedto

come

intothat

hollowuncertainty

ofthe

promise.

rnih

icase

ofM

arlow’s

narra

tion,w

hichI

amtaking

asan

exemplary

literaryw

ork,w

hatenters

thenarration

isall”

thattalk

ofthe

inscrutable,the

impenetrghle

mystery,

theunspeakable

seciet,and

soon

thaflias

sooffended

some

ofC

onradsreaders.

InK

urtz’scase,

them

illennialprom

isem

adeby

imperialist

capitalism,

sinceit

ishollow

atthe

core,can

no!je

separatedfrom

thepossibility

orperhaps

eventhe

necessityof

iuvasimihy

the“it,”

what

Conrad

callsthe

“Heart

ofD

arkness.”K

urtz’scase

isexem

plaryof

that,a

parab!eor

alle

ofthat

without

thedarkness.

They

htogether.

Nor

hasthat

spectrafaccompanim

entof

capitalism’s

mu

Ienial

promise

ofw

orld-wide

peace,prosperity,

anduniversal

democracy

byany

means

disappearedtoday,

when

theim

perialistexploitation”

of

Conrad’s

dayand

itsaccom

panyingphilanthropic

idealismhas

beenreplaced

bythe

utopianprom

isesm

adefor

thenew

globaleconom

yand

thenew

regime

ofscientffico-bio-m

edicotechno-m

ediatic-telecomm

unications.çAs

JacquesD

erridaand

Werner

Ham

acherhave

recognizeJ,4

thepolitical

leftand

thepolit

4.Jacques

Derrida,

Spectersof

Marx,

trans.Peggy

Kam

uf(N

ewY

ork:R

outledge,1994),

andW

ernerH

amacher,

‘Lingua

Am

issa:T

heM

echanismof

Com

modity-L

anguageand

Derrida’s

Spectersof

Marx,”

Futures:O

f JaequerD

errida,ed.

Richard

Rand

(Stanford:Stanford

UP,

2001),pp.

130—78.

I

474L

issASCIIN

EIDER

icalright

areco

nso

nan

tin

the

promises

theym

ake.T

heprom

iseof

universalprosperity

made

forthe

.jjewscientific

ecohomy

dom

inated

by

technologyand

transformative

comm

unicationstech

niqffesecje

sthe

messianic

promise,

arnessianisrn

without

messiah,

ofclassic’al

Marxism

.It

alsoechoes

theprom

isem

adeby

ritwin

gideologies,

eventhe

mhst

uiiseaJta1jybrutal,

forexam

ple

tlieNazT

promise

ofa

thousand-yearR

eich.-

Weire

inu

nd

ated,

swam

ped,engulfed

everyday

byth

ep

resent

formo

fthose

promises,T

hallem

edliaih

ewsp

apers

andm

aga

zines,on

television,in

advertising,on

theInternet,

inpolitical

andpolicy

pronouncements—

allguaranteeing

thateverything

will

getbigger,

faster,bette

more

“u&

-èn

dI”’äiid

1eaJ

tow

orldwide

millennial

prosperity.T

heseprom

isesare

allm

adeby

languageor

oth

ersigns,

“thegift

ofexpression,

tcyderin

g,

the

illurn

inaj

iñg7ih

eniost

exaltedand

them

ostconteniptible,

thepulsating

streamof

light,or

thedeceitful

flowfrom

theheart

ofan

impen

etrable

darkness”(47).

Ireturn

tom

ybeginning.

Should

we,

oughtw

eto

read“H

eartof

Darkness”?

Each

reader

mu

stdecide

that

forh

imself

orherself.

There

arecertainly

ways

toread

“Heart

ofD

arkness”th

atm

ightdo

harm,

forexam

pleif

itis

readas

straightforwardiy

endorsingE

uro-centric,

racistand

exist

ideo

lQgieslfitis

read;how

ever,as

Ibe

lieveit

shouldbe

read,as

apow

erfii

jeve1ajp

nof

theideology

ofcapitalist

ii4rialism

,including

itsracism

andsexism

,conso

nw

itiE

eitjn

definjtionof

literatureth

aisitsconco

mian

t,inc]u

cJjng

anon

revelatoryrevelation

invocation

inboth

ofa

“exernplary’Thon-revealable

secret,then,

Ideclare,

“Heart

ofD

arkness”shq

here

ghtto

beread.

There

isan

obligationto

doso.

LISSA

SC

HN

EID

ER

Iconoap

hy

andthe

Fen-iinineIdealt

Of

them

anym

ythicfem

ininefigures

inC

onrad’snovels

andsto

ries,one

inparticular

haselicited

ferventreactions:

Kurtz’s

“small

sketchin

oils,”in

Heart

ofD

arkness,“representing

aw

oman,

drapedand

blindfolded,carrying

alighted

torch”(25).

As

Marlow

tellsthe

men

aboardthe

Nellie,

“The

backgroundw

assom

ber—al

mostblack.

The

movem

entof

thew

oman

was

stately,and

theeffect

tFrom

Conrad’s

Narratives

ofDifference:N

otE

xactlyTalesfor

Boys

(New

York:

Routledge,

2003),pp.

9—10,

11,12—

18.R

eproducedby

permission

ofR

outledgefraylorand

FrancisB

ooks,Inc.

Notes

arethe

author’s.

L

ICON

OG

RAPH

YA

ND

TH

EFEM

ININ

EID

EAL

475

ofth

etorchlight

onthe

facew

assinister”

(25).T

he

figurein

the

pain

ting

recallspersonifications

ofL

ibertyand

Justice,

who

areas

sociatedw

iththe

amazonian

ideal.Y

etw

iththe

pairedattributes

oftorch

andblindfold

thisw

oman

appearsboth

potentand

dis

turbinglypow

erless.A

lthoughM

arlowm

entionsthe

paintingonly

oncein

hisem

beddednarrative,

criticshave

beendraw

nto

itspar

adoxicalim

ageryas

perhapsto

fewother

word

portraitsin

Conrad’s

writings.

Intheir

effortsto

tracethe

painting’ssym

bolicreso

nances,critics

variouslyhave

seenthe

blindfolded,torch-bearing

figureas

asym

bolfor

Kurtz,’

forE

urope“blinded

bythe

lightof

hercivilization,”2

oreven

forall

“mankind,

gropingblindly

throughthe

darknessof

hisexistence.”3

These

readingshold

incom

mon

atendency

tonaturalize

thefig

urein

thepainting.

How

ever,as

Marina

Warner

explains,“a

sym

bolizedfem

alepresence

bothgives

andtakes

valueand

meaning

inrelation

toactual

wom

en.”4

Tosee

thepainting’s

polysemous

imagery

interm

sof

acom

mentary

onK

urtz’spsy

cholo

gon

Western

imperialistideologç

or,m

ostbroadly

ofall,

onthe

general“despair”

ofthe

human

condition,is

toelide

attentionto

itspresentation

ofa

female

figure.Jerem

yH

awthorn,

ina

notableexception,

links“K

urtz’sportrait

ofthe

blindfoldedfem

ale”to

theE

uropeanw

omen

charactersin

Heart

ofD

arkness,but

ina

more

subtleact

ofdis

placement

headds

thatthese

female

charactersare

themselves

iconsw

ho“serve

alarger

representativefunction,

portrayingthat

idealismw

hichthe

western

imperialist

powers

useas

apologyfor

theirexploitation.”

As

hesays,

“thepicture

helpsto

supportthe

ar

gument

thatthe

novellaassociates

theisolation

ofE

uropeanw

omen

with

theisolation

ofidealism

fromthat

which

itis

beingused

tounderw

rite.”5

Yetnot

Eurppean

wom

enalone

areassociated

with

thepainting’s

mythic

figure(w

hoserace

hasalw

aysbeen

as

sumed

bycritics,

butis

neveractually

identifiedin

thetext).

Al

thoughM

arlowallies

theIntended

with

thefigure

inthe

painting,describing

herparadigm

aticallyraised

arms

asshe

standssu

rrounded

by“an

unearthlyglow

”(75),

Marlow

alsorecalls

theup-

1.

IiI,IF:

1.Frederick

Karl,

“Introductionto

theD

ame

Macabre:

Conrad’s

Heart

ofD

arkness”in

Heart

ofD

arkness:A

Case

StudyIn

Contem

poraryC

riticism,

ed.R

ossC

.M

urlin(N

ewY

ork:St.

Martin’s

P,1989),

p.132;

Mark

S.Sexton,

“Kurtz’s

Sketchin

Oils:

ItsS

ignificance

toH

eartof

Darkness,”

Studiesin

ShortFiction

24:4(Fall

1987):388;

Marianne

DeK

oven,R

ichand

Strange:G

ender,H

istoryM

odernism(P

rinceton:P

rincetonU

P,I991),

p.113.

2.B

rianW

.Shaffer,

The

Blinding

Torch:M

odernB

ritishFiction

andthe

Discourse

ofC

ivilin,tion

(Am

herst:U

ofM

assachusettsP,

1993),p.

2.3.

Wilfred

S.D

owden,

“The

Light

andD

arkL

ie,”in

Conrad’s

Heart

ofD

arknessand

theC

ritics,ed.

Bruce

Harkness

(Belm

ont,C

A:

Wadsw

orth,1960),

p.158.

4.M

arinaW

arner,M

onuments

andM

aidens:T

heA

llegoryof

theFem

aleForm

(New

York:

Athenaeum

,1985),

p. ior.5.

Jeremy

Haw

thorn,Joseph

Conrad:

Narrative

Technique

andIdeological

Consciousness

(London:

Edw

ardA

rnold,1990),

pp.183,

184,190

[seethe

selectionin

thisN

ortonC

riticalE

ditionj.