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LITR / CRCL 5734:
Colonial & Postcolonial Literature Kim Herrera Assimilation
of an Empire When
I looked through the class schedule for the summer of 2003, I quickly passed the
course Colonial & Post-colonial Literature.
My focus is on British not American literature.
After thumbing the university catalog, I saw examples of text and the
course was not what I initially thought. After
one week of discussions and reading of various texts, I question the effects of
an empire. The acquisition and
colonization of a foreign country creates disturbing thoughts.
I can now begin to see the different perspectives colonization has
created through the works of Conrad, Achebe, and Walcott.
Within these colonial and post-colonial works, the authors show the quest
for expansion, the rejection of the colonizing culture, and the assimilation of
both cultures – hybridization. Joseph
Conrad’s work shows the initial exploitation of Africa by Europeans, Chinua
Achebe’s shows pre-colonization but mainly the effects of post-colonization,
and Walcott’s poetry contemplates the conflict of cultural identity.
These different stages of colonization can be seen through the
protagonists’ and speaker’s attempt to understand one’s ancestral roots.
Joseph
Conrad’s Heart of Darkness deals with imperialism during England’s
rule. England imposed its
exploration into the heart of Africa in search of goods for trade, but its
people were told that it was to spread the “good word”, that is, Christian
beliefs. When one looks at history
and its great explorers, missionaries came after the initial worldly explorers
reported back to their country of the resources they found.
Columbus, Cortez, Lewis and Clark were all great explorers who mapped the
world into real places of wealth, which were once probably mapped out in
color-coded areas such as Marlowe’s first description of seeing a map of
Africa as unknown territory, a place to explore.
In his cozy aunt’s house while having tea, Marlowe’s aunt echoes the
belief that Europeans should go to Africa, the unknown, to “civilize” the
savages. Her ethnocentric beliefs are her reasons for recommending her
nephew to become a sea captain. It
is his aunt’s quest, but Marlowe, like any explorer, sees this adventure as a
job, a quest to line the pockets of those in power and most probably, to line
his own pockets with wealth, prestige, and power.
Marlowe is aware of the hidden agenda, yet when he encounters Africa and
sees the exploitation, he continues to believe his ethnocentric ideas.
Yet, I also see Marlowe questioning this quest.
Conrad has Marlowe speaking in long complex sentences with numerous
commas, dashes, and pauses as though he is contemplating his reasons for being
in this heart of darkness, the dark side of his moral beliefs and conduct.
It is as if Marlowe is questioning the whole White Man’s Burden, the
belief that white Europeans have an obligation as a civilized society to assist
all others to escape their “primitiveness”.
The title of
Conrad’s novel and the repetition of the phrase, heart of darkness, suggest
the protagonist’s struggle to understand his own morals and beliefs.
In his journey into the Congo and back, Marlowe’s heart, the emotional
side of man, shows his dark side, the journey into the dark unknown territory.
The fear of exploring a place from which one may never return frightens
Marlowe. It is his heart of
darkness as well as Kurtz’s. Marlowe
is in search of Kurtz, who ventures into the heart of darkness, the Congo, in
search of white ivory. He, Kurtz,
at any cost, acquires this commodity because that is what he has been sent to
do. He murders, tortures, and
steals by force – a sort of rape and pillage – to extract the fossilized
ivory from its African earth. And
when Marlowe enters the heart of darkness to rescue the dying Kurtz, Kurtz
believes that upon his return to England, he will be praised for doing the job
he was sent to do. Marlowe, as well
as the others in the company, knows that Kurtz has gone beyond what they can
control so therefore he is expendable. It
is Kurtz’s last speech, “The horror! The horror!” that suggests he knew
what he had done, but it is not until he is on the boat with another white man,
Marlowe, that Kurtz verbally acknowledges his wrongdoing.
Kurtz’s dark side, his savagery, reveals itself in the dark jungles of
Africa. So is Conrad saying that
man has a tendency to lose (loosen) his moral values if the culture he
encounters does not follow the same exact beliefs as his?
Or is Conrad saying that because Marlowe has stayed in this foreign
“heathen” country so long that he has assimilated into their culture, an
unchristian culture, a country full of distrustful savages, a step backwards
from their own “civilized” world? Marlowe’s
statement on Africa examines his fears. The earth
seemed unearthly. We are accustomed
to look upon the shackled form of a conquered monster, but there – there you
could look at a thing monstrous and free. It was unearthly, and the men were ---- No, they were not
inhuman. Well, you know, that was
the worst of it – this suspicion of their not being inhuman.
It would come slowly to one. They
howled and leaped, and spun, and made horrid faces; but what thrilled you was
just the thought of their humanity – like yours --- the thought of your remote
kinship with this wild and passionate uproar.
Ugly. Yes, it was ugly enough (105). Africa is not a reality to Marlowe
because it does not represent his own European life as he knows it.
The unknown is a nightmare, which needs to be shackled.
Fear is Marlowe’s reaction to the unknown, and therefore, that fear
must be conquered; it must be put in chains for its own good and the good of
“civilized” Europe. Throughout
the text, Marlowe seems to be contemplating the kinship between the civilized
and the uncivilized, and in this contemplation, he questions his own culture and
its ability to commit savage horrors. The
thought of his connection or kinship with the savages thrill and disgust Marlowe
at the same time for he acknowledges that if his suspicion of kinship is
correct, then his wild and passionate ancestors were ugly – yes ugly. The hint of his own cultural history (the Jutes, Anglos,
Saxons, and Celtics tribes) is one of savagery, at least the Romans thought so.
As Achebe states in his essay “An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad’s
Heart of Darkness”, It is not the
differentness [of the Thames and the Congo River] that worries Conrad but the
lurking hint of kinship, of common ancestry … [b]ut if it were to visit its
primordial relative, the Congo, it would run the terrible risk of hearing
grotesque echoes of its own forgotten darkness, and falling victim to an
avenging recrudescence of the mindless frenzy of the first beginnings. (252) Acknowledging that his own world is
somehow connected to savagery (history and Kurtz) reveals Marlowe’s rejection
of England’s primitive past and present. The idea of his Europe having any characteristics of savagery
disgusts him, but the thought of kinship and Kurtz’s behavior reopen that
“forgotten darkness”, the forgotten past. It is so unlike
Achebe, who looks upon his ancestry as nostalgic but with the reality that
things fall apart and change and that is part of life.
He does not look back and present his origins as one of ugliness.
He looks back with a fondness but with a reality that culture by choice
or force changes. In his novel, Things
Fall Apart, Achebe uses his protagonist, Okonkwo, to represent the
traditional way of life. Okonkwo is
a rags to riches story. His father,
Unoka, is considered a failure by Ibo standards.
He does not have barnfuls of yams nor can he support numerous wives and
children. Okonkwo, like Kurtz,
expects his life to be remembered as glorious - a man of wealth, prestige, and
power, and yet like Marlowe, Okonkwo, has deep fears.
Okonkwo’s whole life was
dominated by fear, the fear of failure and of weakness.
It was deeper and more intimate than the fear of evil and capricious gods
and of magic, the fear of the forest, and the forces of nature, malevolent, red
in tooth and claw. Okonkwo’s fear was greater than these. It was not external but lay deep within himself.
(17) His father, Unoka, is considered a
failure in Ibo society, and Okonkwo, ashamed of his father, vows not to be like
him. It is as though Unoka and
Okonkwo represent two extremes of Ibo society.
One is the calm peaceful native who enjoys the pleasantries of his
tradition, while Okonkwo shows the (masculine) violent side of his traditional
culture. He, Okonkwo the fierce
warrior, drinks palm wine from his enemy’s head; he is a great wrestler known
throughout the nine villages and is a man who holds distinguished titles within
his realm. Okonkwo’s fear of
losing great respect within his society juxtaposes him in Marlowe’s and
Kurtz’s heart of darkness. Yet
Achebe is able to paint Okonkwo’s life with some compassion toward others: his
concern for his child Ezinma, the despair he has after the sacrificing of
Ikemefuna, and the refusal to accept the change in Ibo’s traditional values
when the white men come with their religious and judicial systems.
Achebe’s Okonkwo is not a mere stereotype the way Conrad paints the
“savage natives”, but Achebe’s main character is round.
We are able to visualize him within various situations and his reactions
to those situations. We do not see
Okonkwo constantly carrying a spear, leaping, making horrid faces, or howling
out incomprehensible phrases on the banks of a river and his compound is
definitely not surrounded by miniature heads on spears like Kurtz’s outpost,
but we see Okonkwo doing official business: representing his village in disputes
over war, helping his neighbors with deciding bride prices, helping the upcoming
tribal members with yam seeds to start their productive life in Umuofia.
In this post-colonial work, we see a civilized culture complete with
family, religion, judicial and legislative institutions, which Heart of
Darkness was unable to recognize. Achebe
gives Conrad’s “savages” a voice; we hear the other side of the story. The effects of
colonialism present another situation altogether.
It is the assimilation of dual cultures that begin to collide, and
authors like Walcott begin to unfold the stories and points of view of those who
share those dual identities. Walcott’s
poems suggest this emergence. Two
of Walcott’s poems, “Jean Rhys” and “Koenig of the River”, end with
these lines: “the pages goes
white” (382) and the “foreseeing that her own white wedding dress / will be
white paper” (429). The reference
to white is obvious, the colonizers, but the marriage of the two is what
changes, and the blank paper, the white paper, is now the story that will be
told from a different perspective, the ones colonized and their future children.
As the speaker in Walcott’s poem, “A Far Cry from Africa”, states
in the last lines, I who am
poisoned with the blood of both, /Where shall I turn, divided to the vein? / I
who have cursed / The drunken officer of British rule, how choose / Between this
Africa and the English tongue I love? / Betray them both, or give back what they
give? / How can I face such slaughter and be cool? / How can I turn from Africa
and live? (18) The result of imperialism leaves a
culture with an identity crisis. On
one hand, the speaker is being told to choose a culture by British officials who
obviously have no understanding of other cultures besides their own ethnocentric
one, and on the other, how can the speaker dismiss his ancestral roots, his
past, and live as if though it never existed?
The speaker loves the language of both, but the blood, the hybridization,
is poisoned. Walcott’s poetry
presents this inner struggle and fits the definition of postmodernism.
The Literary Theory handout lists certain common denominators that
define this term. The radically
disparate interpretations and evaluations of postmodernism are in part the
result of its particular politics and the curious ‘middle grounds’ (Wilde, Middle)
it occupies, inscribing yet also subverting various aspects of a dominant
culture: however critical the subversion, there is still a complicity that
cannot be denied. This strategic
doubleness or political ambidextrousness is the common denominator of many
postmodern discourses, and to see only one side – either the complicity or the
critique- is to deny the complexity of the enterprise. (612) Walcott’s poems suggest that the white
pages are the stories or points of view of the oppressed culture, the one that
is supposed to be destroyed and replaced by the empire.
The new emerging dual culture does not totally overthrow the existing
dominant culture for Walcott makes such comments as “Africa and the English
tongue I love.” The voice of the
future is blank and needs to be written.
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