Heart of Darkness in Ultimate Popsugar Reading Challenge

Dec 02, 2018 Christine H rated it really liked it · review of another edition

My 15-year-old asked if I'd be interested in reading this to help her with a school paper. (Worry not, this means I equipped myself to ask her interesting questions rather than doing the work for her!)

I'm so glad I said yes. Conrad was clearly a gifted writer, and had progressive (for his time) views about colonialism. What struck me most was this: while he clearly abhors the casual cruelty of colonialism, he seems even more repelled by its stupid futility.

Conrad's narrator is as artful and bar My 15-year-old asked if I'd be interested in reading this to help her with a school paper. (Worry not, this means I equipped myself to ask her interesting questions rather than doing the work for her!)

I'm so glad I said yes. Conrad was clearly a gifted writer, and had progressive (for his time) views about colonialism. What struck me most was this: while he clearly abhors the casual cruelty of colonialism, he seems even more repelled by its stupid futility.

Conrad's narrator is as artful and barbed as Jane Austen's, adroitly conveying his contempt with a factual description:

When near the buildings I met a white man, in such an unexpected elegance of get-up that in the first moment I took him for a sort of vision. I saw a high starched collar, white cuffs, a light alpaca jacket, snowy trousers, a clear necktie, and varnished boots. No hat. Hair parted, brushed, oiled, under a green-lined parasol held in a big white hand. He was amazing, and had a penholder behind his ear.

or even by merely relating a name: International Society for the Suppression of Savage Customs

My English Major soul thrills at the potential points of analysis and comparison. Kurtz is the hypnotic center of the tale, yet barely appears himself (Rebecca, anyone?). I'm actually quite curious about Kurtz and can't wait to check out Brando's portrayal in Apocalypse Now. And the story hammers at the thoughtless, egotistical presumptuousness of the white characters as they attempt to invade and improve a "dark" place, resulting merely in the suffering of both the natives and themselves (this review is being written about two weeks after missionary John Chau got himself killed by flouting laws meant to protect the Sentinelese people - it's not clear yet if he also managed to exterminate them with any of his foreign microbes).

Conrad wasn't the most evolved in his attitudes toward native Africans (or women), but his portrayal of the evils of colonialism is so well crafted and evocative, it continues to resonate in the present day. ...more

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Jun 14, 2008 Jeff Scott rated it it was amazing

Shelves: short-books, fiction, classics, 1001books, moral-failure, evil

The main argument of this story, is that without society's pressure to determine good and evil and an appropriate way to behave, there is the potential to act in a truly evil way. This story is a good analogy to unchecked power as well. The story itself doesn't carry the weight since I watched Apocalypse Now before reading this story. The elements are there and the unchecked aggression and evil are great, but there is a difference between controlling an area for profit, to obtain ivory, and a so The main argument of this story, is that without society's pressure to determine good and evil and an appropriate way to behave, there is the potential to act in a truly evil way. This story is a good analogy to unchecked power as well. The story itself doesn't carry the weight since I watched Apocalypse Now before reading this story. The elements are there and the unchecked aggression and evil are great, but there is a difference between controlling an area for profit, to obtain ivory, and a soldier using natives to butcher an enemy. My perception is a bit tainted because of the order. However, even without the extreme elements, it is a demonstration of how those who have power unchecked can lead to horrible behavior.

Favorite Passages:
"You should have heard him say, 'My ivory.' Oh yes, I heard him. 'My Intended, my ivory, my station, my river, my--' everything belonged to him. It made me hold my breath in expectation of hearing the wilderness burst into a prodigious peal of laughter that would shake the fixed stars in their places. Everything belonged to him--but that was a trifle. The thing was to know what he belonged to, how many powers of darkness claimed him for their own. That was the reflection that made you creepy all over. It was impossible--it was not good for one either--trying to imagine. He had taken a high seat amongst the devils of the land--I mean literally. You can't understand. How could you?--with solid pavement under your feet, surrounded by kind neighbors ready to cheer you or to fall on you, stepping delicately between the butcher and the policeman, in the holy terror of scandal and gallows and lunatic asylums--how can you imagine what particular region of the first ages a man's untrammeled feet may take him into by the way of solitude--utter solitude without a policeman--by the way of silence, utter silence, where no warning voice of a kind neighbor can be heard whispering of public opinion? These little things make all the great difference. When they are gone you must fall back upon your own innate strength, upon your own capacity for faithfulness. p. 123

They only showed that Mr. Kurtz lacked restraint in the gratification of his various lusts, that there was something wanting in him--some small matter which, when the pressing need arose, could not be found under his magnificent eloquence. Whether he knew of this deficiency himself I can't say. I think the knowledge came to him at last--only at the very last. But the wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance for the fantastic invasion. I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude--and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core. p. 200

And for a moment it seemed to me as if I was also buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets. I felt an intolerable weight oppressing my breast, the smell of the damp earth, the unseen presence of victorious corruption, the darkness of an impenetrable night...p. 170

"Anything approaching the change that came over his features I have
never seen before, and hope never to see again. Oh, I wasn't touched.
I was fascinated. It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw on that
ivory face the expression of somber pride, of ruthless power, of craven
terror--of an intense and hopeless despair. Did he live his life again
in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme
moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, at
some vision,--he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath--

"'The horror! The horror!'
p. 223

...more

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