Creepy, chilling, and fascinating. This is the tale of an expedition, our narrator Marlow's attempt to penetrate into darkest, wildest Africa to rescue Kurtz, a man who's been working the ivory trade but for whom something unknown has gone wrong. Kurtz has gone native, in a way; but not in the sense of blending in with the natives -- he's gone native to his own nature, controlling and ruling the natives while going progressively more insane. And so, while the expedition does find him, no rescue from himself is possible. Meanwhile, Africa looms as a massive, inexplicable, dark, and powerful character in its own right.

Joseph Conrad has a way with words that is sometimes heavy-handed (one tires almost of so many hearts of so many different darknesses) and at other times rings with the brilliance of Edgar Allan Poe (e.g., Kurtz's final, now iconic, words). The book seems torn between condemning the British exploitation of Africa ("To tear treasure out of the bowels of the land was their desire, with no more moral purpose at the back of it than there is in burglars breaking into a safe.") and in some ways affirming it, or at least the attitudes about its inhabitants -- condescending, racist, distasteful to the modern eye or ear.

Overall, well written, and a fast read. I can't quite say I *liked* it, since it's not an enjoyable read -- but it's admirable for its effect nonetheless.