Heart of Darkness
Joseph Conrad
 'Heart of Darkness' opens in first person narrative; our narrator establishes the setting aboard a sailboat, "The Nellie, a cruising yawl," anchored in the Thames River near Gravesend (England). It is somewhat hazy and late in the day. Aboard are four others: the Director of Companies (the captain), the Lawyer ("the best of old fellows"), the Accountant (toying architecturally with dominoes), and Marlow (Charlie Marlow) - all share "the bond of the sea" but Marlow is the only one that still "followed the sea" - they are waiting for the tide waters to turn. Some undefined conversation is shared lazily, the sun sets; then Marlow states how their location also "has been one of the dark places of the earth." Marlow continues describing the trials and tribulations that must have been encountered by the first Romans who made their way to England; how mysterious and incomprehensible the place must have seemed to them. He also explains how brutal and unscrupulous these Romans must have been: "They were conquerors, and for that you want only brute force" - After some silence, Marlow abruptly starts up again saying, in a hesitating voice, "I suppose you fellows remember I did once turn fresh-water sailor for a bit." Marlow introduces the events that led to his appointment to captain a river-steamboat for an ivory trading company. He describes his passage on ships to the wilderness - to the Company's station, which strikes Marlow as a scene of devastation: "amongst a waste of excavations" - disorganized, machinery parts here and there, now and then explosions of demolition, weakened native black men, that have been demoralized, in chains, literally being worked to death, and strolling behind them a white Company man in a uniform carrying a rifle. Marlow remarks on these Company men: "I've seen the devil of violence, and the devil of greed, and the devil of hot desire; but, by all the stars! these were strong, lusty, red-eyed devils, that swayed and drove men—men, I tell you. But as I stood on this hillside, I foresaw that in the blinding sunshine of that land I would become acquainted with a flabby, pretending, weak-eyed devil of a rapacious and pitiless folly. How insidious he could be, too, I was only to find out several months later and a thousand miles farther." At this station Marlow meets the Company's chief accountant, who's dressed in "unexpected elegance" - "Everything else in the station was in a muddle" - Marlow first hears of a Mr. Kurtz from the chief accountant, who explains that Kurtz is a first-class agent, and later adds: "'He will be a somebody in the Administration before long. They, above—the Council in Europe, you know—mean him to be.'" Marlow leaves that station with a caravan to travel on foot some two hundred miles deeper into the wilderness - to the Central Station, where his steamboat is based - the steamer he is to captain. Upon arrival at the Central Station: "the first glance at the place was enough to let you see the flabby devil was running that show." Marlow is shocked to learn that his steamboat had been wrecked two days before his arrival. The manager explains to Marlow that they couldn't wait, and needed to take the steamboat up-river because of "rumours that a very important station was in jeopardy, and its chief, Mr. Kurtz, was ill." Marlow describes that the manager "inspired uneasiness" - "just uneasiness—nothing more" - Along with the manager, Marlow describes the other Company men at this station as lazy back-biting "pilgrims" - fraught with envy and jealousy. All trying to better position themselves in a way to acquire a higher status within the Company, which in turn, would carry more personal profit; but sought after such goals in a meaningless ineffective lazy manner, mixed with a sense that they were all merely waiting, while trying to stay out of harm's way. After fishing his command out of the river, frustrations are met during the months spent on repairs. During this time, Marlow learns that at this station Mr. Kurtz is far from being admired, but instead, more or less, Kurtz is resented (mostly by the manager). Not only is Kurtz's position at the Inner Station a highly envied position, but sentiment seems to be that Kurtz is not deserving of it, as Kurtz only received the appointment by his connections back in Europe. Once ready and underway, the journey up-river to the Inner Station, Kurtz's station, takes two months - to the day. On board was the manager, three or four "pilgrims" and about twenty "cannibals" that were enlisted to crew the steamer. Marlow describes the brooding wilderness, in all its glory, and in all its mystery. Here and there would be a Company post where Company agents seemed imprisoned, captive by the business of ivory; now and then on shore an occasional native village would be seen, with a frenzied uproar by the natives. Marlow expresses a greater enthusiasm towards the idea of meeting Kurtz - but things become more tense as they get closer to his station. They come to rest for the night about eight miles below the Inner Station. In the morning they awake only to find that they are immersed within a thick white fog. From the river bank they hear a very loud cry, followed by a complaining clamour in savage discords: "It culminated in a hurried outbreak of almost intolerably excessive shrieking, which stopped short" - "The sheer unexpectedness of it made my hair stir under my cap." Many wondered if there would be an attack. But it was not until a few hours onwards, while safe navigation was becoming increasingly difficult, that the steamboat was hit with a barrage of sticks - little arrows, everywhere - aimed at the steamboat from the wilderness on shore. The little arrows "looked as though they wouldn't kill a cat" - The pilgrims with their Winchesters had opened fire into the bush. The native who had been serving as helmsman, gave up steering to pick up a rifle and shoot it. Marlow grabs the wheel to avoid snags in the river. The helmsman fell at Marlow's feet clutching a shaft of a spear, which had entered his body just below the ribs. Marlow began to screech the steam whistle repeatedly; "the shower of arrows stopped, a few dropping shots rang out sharply—then silence" - A pilgrim in "pink pyjamas" arrives at the pilot-house, and is shocked to see the dying helmsman. They watch the helmsman die with an inexplicable expression on his face. Marlow forces the pilgrim in "pink pyjamas" to take the wheel so that he can shed his blood soaked shoes, and while flinging the pair overboard, he is hit with a rush of thoughts; thinking he would never have a chance to hear Kurtz talk, as he is most likely dead - then submits: "Of course I was wrong. The privilege was waiting for me. Oh, yes, I heard more than enough." Marlow makes a vague mention of a girl, whom later Kurtz will refer to as "My Intended" (his fiancée): "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." Marlow reflects more on Kurtz: "His mother was half-English, his father was half-French. All Europe contributed to the making of Kurtz" - "I learned that, most appropriately, the International Society for the Suppression of Savage Customs had entrusted him with the making of a report, for its future guidance. And he had written it, too. I've seen it. I've read it. It was eloquent, vibrating with eloquence" - "There were no practical hints to interrupt the magic current of phrases, unless a kind of note at the foot of the last page, scrawled evidently much later, in an unsteady hand, may be regarded as the exposition of a method. It was very simple, and at the end of that moving appeal to every altruistic sentiment it blazed at you, luminous and terrifying, like a flash of lightning in a serene sky: 'Exterminate all the brutes!' The curious part was that he had apparently forgotten all about that valuable postscriptum, because, later on, when he in a sense came to himself, he repeatedly entreated me to take good care of 'my pamphlet' (he called it), as it was sure to have in the future a good influence upon his career." After reflecting more on Kurtz, Marlow states "I can't forget him, though I am not prepared to affirm the fellow was exactly worth the life we lost in getting to him. I missed my late helmsman awfully" - "don't you see, he had done something, he had steered" - "and thus a subtle bond had been created, of which I only became aware when it was suddenly broken." After putting on a pair of slippers, Marlow returned to the pilot-house and resumed steering. By this time the manager is there, and expresses a strong desire to turn back - right at the moment that the Inner Station comes into view. At Kurtz's station Marlow sees a man on the river-bank waving his arm, urging them to land. Because of his expressions, gestures, and all the colorful patches on his clothing, the man reminds Marlow of a harlequin. The pilgrims, heavily armed, escort the manager on shore to retrieve Mr. Kurtz. The harlequin-like chap boards the steamboat. It turns out the man is Russian, and he is a mere wanderer; who just happened to wander into Kurtz's camp: "He rattled away at such a rate he quite overwhelmed me. He seemed to be trying to make up for lots of silence, and actually hinted, laughing, that such was the case. 'Don't you talk with Mr. Kurtz?' I said. 'You don't talk with that man—you listen to him,' he exclaimed with severe exaltation." - "'I tell you,' he cried, 'this man has enlarged my mind.'" Through conversation Marlow discovers just how wanton Kurtz could be, how the natives worshiped Kurtz, and how very ill Kurtz has been of late. The concerned harlequin-like Russian admires Mr. Kurtz for his intellect - for his insights - into love, life, and justice. The Russian seems to even admire Kurtz for his power - and his willingness to use it. Marlow suggests that Kurtz has gone mad, and the Russian "protested indignantly. Mr. Kurtz couldn't be mad. If I had heard him talk, only two days ago, I wouldn't dare hint at such a thing." From the steamboat, through a glass (telescope) Marlow can observe details of the station, and is surprised suddenly to see near the station house a row of posts with decapitated heads of natives mounted atop of each. Around the corner of the house the manager with the pilgrims appeared, bearing Kurtz on an improvised stretcher. The area then filled with natives, who appeared to be ready for battle. The Russian stated: "'Now, if he does not say the right thing to them we are all done for'" - On the stretcher Marlow could see Kurtz shouting. The pilgrims carried Kurtz to the steamer and laid him down in one of the little cabins. A gorgeous native woman, with a desperate aspect, walked in measured steps along the shore and stopped right next to the steamer. She raised her arms above her head - then "turned away slowly, walked on, following the bank, and passed into the bushes." From the steamboat's cabin Kurtz was placed in, he is heard yelling at the manager: "'Save me!—save the ivory, you mean. Don't tell me. Save me! Why, I've had to save you. You are interrupting my plans now. Sick! Sick! Not so sick as you would like to believe.'" The manager walks out of the cabin, and spoke with Marlow about "unsound methods" and Marlow puts forward the notion: "No method at all" - After some more words the manager gives Marlow a heavy glance, then leaves. The Russian mentions "'matters that would affect Mr. Kurtz's reputation.'" - Marlow replied to the Russian: "'Mr. Kurtz's reputation is safe with me.'" - He informed Marlow "that it was Kurtz who had ordered the attack to be made on the steamer" - The harlequin-like Russian refers to a canoe waiting for him, and adds: "'Ah! I'll never, never meet such a man again. You ought to have heard him recite poetry—his own, too, it was, he told me. Poetry!' He rolled his eyes at the recollection of these delights. 'Oh, he enlarged my mind!' 'Good-bye,' said I. He shook hands and vanished in the night." Later, after midnight, Marlow discovers that Kurtz has left his cabin - he has left the steamer, and has returned to shore. Marlow goes ashore and finds Kurtz in a very weak state making his way back to his station - but not so weak, as he can still call out to the natives. Marlow appreciates the serious situation he is in, and when Kurtz begins a threatening tone, Marlow interjects that his "success in Europe is assured in any case" - Kurtz agrees to allow Marlow to help him back to the steamer. The next day they prepare for their departure. They carried Kurtz to the pilot-house: "there was more air there" - The natives once again assembled on shore, and the native woman returned - they all began to shout. Marlow saw the pilgrims getting their rifles ready - so he screeched the steam whistle time after time to scatter the crowd on shore. Only the woman remained unmoved, with outstretched arms. The pilgrims opened fire. The current was swift as they headed downstream. Kurtz's health was worsening. Marlow himself is becoming increasingly ill. The steamboat broke down and repairs needed to be made. Kurtz gives Marlow a packet of papers with a photograph because of his dislike and mistrust of the manager. While ill, Marlow continued to make the repairs to the steamer: "I toiled wearily in a wretched scrap-heap—unless I had the shakes too bad to stand." He did not have much time for Kurtz: "One evening coming in with a candle I was startled to hear him say a little tremulously, 'I am lying here in the dark waiting for death.' The light was within a foot of his eyes. I forced myself to murmur, 'Oh, nonsense!' and stood over him as if transfixed." As Kurtz dies, Marlow hears him whisper, in no more than a breath: "'The horror! The horror!'" Marlow blew out the candle, and tries to act like nothing has happened when he joins the other pilgrims, who were all in the mess-room dining with the manager. In a short while, the "manager's boy" appears and announces in a scathing tone: "'Mistah Kurtz—he dead.'" - Next day Marlow pays little attention to the pilgrims as they bury "something" in a muddy hole. "And then they very nearly buried me" - Marlow falls very sick, near death himself: "I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine" - "I was within a hair's breadth of the last opportunity for pronouncement, and I found with humiliation that probably I would have nothing to say. This is the reason why I affirm that Kurtz was a remarkable man. He had something to say. He said it. Since I had peeped over the edge myself, I understand better" - "He had summed up—he had judged. 'The horror!' He was a remarkable man. After all, this was the expression of some sort of belief; it had candour, it had conviction, it had a vibrating note of revolt in its whisper, it had the appalling face of a glimpsed truth—the strange commingling of desire and hate" - "he had made that last stride, he had stepped over the edge, while I had been permitted to draw back my hesitating foot. And perhaps in this is the whole difference; perhaps all the wisdom, and all truth, and all sincerity, are just compressed into that inappreciable moment of time in which we step over the threshold of the invisible. Perhaps! I like to think my summing-up would not have been a word of careless contempt. Better his cry—much better." Upon Marlow's return to Europe he seems embittered. The everyday life of the Europeans seem to be something a sham - like some sort of hoax. Eventually Marlow took care of the bundle of papers Kurtz had entrusted to him. To a clean-shaven man who had an official manner, Marlow gave the paper entitled 'Suppression of Savage Customs' - "with the postscriptum torn off" - To another, who claims to be Kurtz's cousin, Marlow gave family letters and memoranda of no importance. To a journalist he gave a Report for publication, if the journalist saw fit. Finally Marlow was left with some personal letters and the photograph of the girl's portrait - Kurtz's fiancée, his intended. At her door, even before Marlow entered her house, memories of Kurtz began to flow, along with the final words that he whispered. The girl came forward, dressed in black, and met Marlow in a drawing-room. Although it has been more than a year since Kurtz died, she was still in mourning. It was late, and the room was growing darker. The final words of Kurtz's seemed to echo in the room with the girl. Marlow envisioned them together: "I saw her and him in the same instant of time—his death and her sorrow—I saw her sorrow in the very moment of his death." She presses Marlow for information, ultimately asking him to repeat the final words Kurtz had spoken. Being very uncomfortable Marlow tells her that the final words that Kurtz pronounce was her name. Marlow was surprised by her reaction: "I heard a light sigh and then my heart stood still, stopped dead short by an exulting and terrible cry, by the cry of inconceivable triumph and of unspeakable pain. 'I knew it—I was sure!'... She knew. She was sure. I heard her weeping" - "I wonder, if I had rendered Kurtz that justice which was his due? Hadn't he said he wanted only justice? But I couldn't. I could not tell her. It would have been too dark—too dark altogether...." Then Marlow and his listeners were silent; our first narrator explains: "Nobody moved for a time. 'We have lost the first of the ebb,' said the Director suddenly. I raised my head. The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky—seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness."