| LITR 5734:
Colonial & Postcolonial Literature Pauline Chapman 2 Oct. 2005 Characters,
Cultures, and Intentions in Colonial and Postcolonial Literature Most Americans would assume colonial and postcolonial
literature refers to the American colonial period.
Because of this, when asked what class I'm taking this semester, after
the title I always add, "the literature of Africa, India, and the
Caribbean, from the point of view of the Europeans and of the native
people." Last semester one of my clients wanted to know if I were
studying American or British Literature. This
question made me pause, but it is not surprising that she would assume such a
narrow possibility, since the study of literature in the West has been
traditionally European and American and slow to change.
The importance of this course is to bring an isolated American audience
greater awareness of literature, cultures, and events in other parts of the
world. When discussing colonial and postcolonial literature, one
of the first things that needs to be established is that we are discussing
Literature—established literary works of art that have been discussed purely
on the basis of their formal elements. Just
because we might actually learn something of social value from them as we
examine them from within context does not mean they are any less works of art.
Topics that might be of interest would be the author's culture and
cultural biases, language, intentions, character portrayal, audience, location
of the story and history of the region, and readers' responses.
Colonial literature is written from the perspective of
writers from imperialistic nations who went into underdeveloped regions of the
world and colonized them with missionaries, settlers, government, business
ventures, or a combination of these. In
their 2003 essays Bevill incorrectly identifies Great Britain as the colonizer
in Heart of Darkness and Davis only credits the British Empire for
colonialism, but Belgium, France, Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands were also
colonizing nations. The 19th
century and early 20th century was the high point for colonialism and
colonial literature. Colonial writers are not necessarily supporters of this
system. What they can bring to the discussion is an insider's view of the
imperialists--their greed, prejudices, fears, pettiness, arrogance, and attitude
of entitlement. Heart of Darkness,
written by Joseph Conrad and published in 1902, in the height of the colonial
period, is an example of colonial literature in novel form.
Conrad's English narrator journeys into the Belgian colonized Congo and
relates impressions of the colonizers, the natives, and the setting.
It is an indictment of colonialism, which the author called "the
vilest scramble for loot that ever disfigured the history of human conscience
and geographical exploration" (Conrad 187). The novel is primarily about the Europeans and how Africa
affects them and what they do to the natives. The characters are employed in
ivory commerce for a Belgian company, and include steamer captains, such as our
narrator, Marlowe, an accountant, managers, and "pilgrims." It is clear he was not impressed with the Europeans, from the
top of the organization to the bottom. Marlowe witnesses much that is absurd,
futile, frustrating, and monstrous in their behavior.
Some of Conrad's best work is
in the sketches of the minor characters and the circumstances in which Marlowe
finds himself leading up to finding Kurtz.
For example, the company's chief accountant holds onto his civilization
by a thread, literally, maintaining his appearance with the help of a native
woman whom he teaches to clean and press his clothes. His fastidiousness
contrasted with the suffering, disease, and death of the natives is appalling.
The general manager of the Central Station's best qualification for promotion is
that he has a strong constitution and hasn't got sick and died.
The brickmaker hangs around doing nothing because he doesn't have the
material to make bricks. There are many waiting for their opportunity to make money
from the ivory or hoping to advance in the company, all the while engaged in
internal petty competition and rumors. Meanwhile
Marlowe has to deal with the frustration and absurdity of receiving materials he
doesn't need while not being able to get rivets to fix his steamer.
The whole business brought out the worst in people, or attracted the
worst kind of people. Those who had
begun the journey with enthusiastic, fairly benign intentions, such as Marlowe,
in the end were at least disillusioned, if not mad, sick, or dead.
Marlowe is gets more disgusted and disheartened as he progresses, and
this is why he becomes obsessed with the idea of Kurtz, someone who he hoped
could make sense of it all. The character of Kurtz is often made into a universal
symbol, but for this discussion he is looked at for what the author intended
within the colonial context. The
example of Kurtz could be a warning to any Europeans who had grand ideas about
what could be accomplished with Africa. Conrad
shows that even those with incredible talent and charisma are not immune to
corrupting influences in the absence of civilization, the cop on the corner, for
example. He connects Kurtz with the "powers that be," the
Belgians safe at home who direct and promote the company, enlisting young men to
risk their lives venturing to Africa for profit. The difference with Kurtz is that he goes to Africa and faces
the reality that most promoters would never face.
For this, Marlowe respects him. Marlow's
respect is not intended as encouragement, however.
Marlowe is the witness and Kurtz is the example that Conrad hopes will
convince others not to follow. The natives are more of a backdrop for Conrad.
Their portrayal is filtered through an imperialist perspective, somewhat
sympathetic, but not respectful. Conrad
as Marlowe still doesn't consider them equal.
As characters they function as objects to pity or fear. Or, like the helmsman, as useful tools. Showing them overworked, starving, and dying elicits
compassion for them and disapproval for the system.
Many of the other native portrayals seem intended to scare the
reader--the ones who want to eat the others in the jungle, those throwing spears
at the boat, and the natives dancing and chanting. They and their land were
characterized as mysterious, impenetrable, inexorable, and incomprehensible.
Marlowe's continual use of hyperbole to describe Africa and Africans
hammers home the message that Europeans should stay away for their physical and
moral good. Kurtz gets closer to
the natives than anyone, but in the end, he too confirms the judgment against
them. According to The
Johns Hopkins Guide to Literary Theory and Criticism, "the designation
"postcolonial" has been used to describe writing and reading practices
grounded in colonial experience occurring outside of Europe but as a consequence
of European expansion and exploitation of "other" worlds" (Groden
582). Postcolonial literature dates
from after World War II and is written from the perspective of the colonized. It
can show the conflict of the intrusion of the white man on their society, so it
is their story from their point of view, in their voice. It is "the slow, painful, and highly complex means of
fighting one's way into European-made history, in other words, a process of
dialogue and necessary correction" (Groden 582). Chinua Achebe's essay on racism in Heart
of Darkness is a direct response to Conrad's attitude towards Africans in
the novel. There was reluctance in
our class to label Conrad a racist, but Conrad was a product of his society and
times. That doesn't make him or it
right, but it makes him less culpable in 1900 than he would be in 2000.
If we give Conrad some excuse for racism it does not mean we should gloss
over it in the story, because attitudes of superiority justified colonialism. In
her 2003 essay, Lisa James shows how white men embraced
the theory of evolution to confirm their superiority over those they
considered less advanced. Achebe
does a very good job of identifying racist portrayals of Africans, but he also
doesn't give Conrad any credit for his indictments of Europeans, citing them as
"bleeding heart sentiments" and "humane views appropriate to the
English liberal tradition" (Achebe 256).
I was disappointed that perhaps Conrad wasn't being as courageous in his
anti-colonialist stand as I hoped. Achebe
also addresses the excuse that the story is about Europeans, and not Africans.
It is insulting and dehumanizing that Africa is portrayed as too
dangerously devoid of morality and civilization for European contact.
I would agree with the class that Achebe's essay is harsh, but it is past
time for a closer scrutiny of this novel and the attitudes surrounding it.
It is still worth studying in class, but within the context of
colonialism. In Things Fall Apart,
the Nigerian author Achebe adopts the traditionally European art form of the
novel for his response. Writing in
English reinforces the dialogue concept—that he is responding to decades of
misinformed or under informed European writers on the subject of African
culture. Postcolonial literature records and celebrates traditional
cultures, showing that there was a viable culture in place with laws, language,
rituals, religion, before the white man imposed his. This is the backdrop of
Achebe's story. While Conrad set up
his story showing civilization in decline, Achebe starts his story showing
African civilization in stability.
He introduces the reader to the organization of homes and family life,
music, crops, a system of titles that encourages men to achieve, a monetary
system, laws and ways to settle disputes. We witness a prenuptial ceremony, a
sporting event in the wrestling contests, and the hospitality and respect of
sharing the kola nut. Where Conrad barely gives his natives intelligible speech,
Achebe's people speak in proverbs. We
see people counseling, advising, and supporting each other as Obierika does with
Onkonkwo. Parents protect, nurture, and guide their children.
Even though his machismo prevents him from expressing it, we understand
the tenderness Onkonkwo feels for Enzinma. Even as he introduces his culture as viable and
legitimate, Achebe does not romanticize it. Indeed his story is a tragedy with a
heavily flawed African main character. Onkonkwo's
inflexibility and drive for success are universally identifiable. However, Western women in particular can have difficulty
seeing beyond the violence of the wife beating and the killing of Ikemefuna.
One would wonder why there is so much violence in a story intended to
show that Africans are not savages. The
effect of Achebe being unflinchingly open and honest is that he gains
credibility. Also, considering his African audience, Achebe is showing them not
only their cultural history of which they could be proud, but also attitudes and
practices that have brought them down or should be changed.
Achebe is a hybrid of sorts, an African educated by mission schools and
the European university system. He
seems to acknowledge that both sides have something to offer and something to
change. Another thing to remember
is that we are judging the culture through our cultural bias.
Who is to say their behavior is wrong?
This forces us to consider our assumptions. Achebe's style is very
straightforward, presenting facts or situations with little judgment, requiring
the reader to reflect. After Achebe illustrates African Ibo culture, he then
shows how Europeans appeared to the Africans.
Marlow is perplexed by the Africans,
but the Africans are also confused
by European behavior. They don't
know how to act—what is considered wrong by the white man and what sort of
punishment might be exacted. The
Africans live by following their traditional laws and the white man comes in and
flouts them. The reader can see how
unfair this would be, seeing it through their eyes.
But we also see Africans who are bothered by some of the harsh
traditions, who may have secretly questioned them on their own, converting to
Christianity. Derek Walcott is a postcolonial poet also writing in
English. He is a true hybrid in
that he has both European and African ancestors.
A recurring theme in his poetry is the struggle to come to terms with
both sides of his heritage. His is
a moderating voice in the dialogue of texts because of his reluctance to choose
sides, to proclaim the white man evil, in particular, descendants like himself.
Although he contemplates history in the ruins of a plantation house in
"The Ruins of a Great House," and
"A Far Cry from Africa," he is essentially wanting to know
where to go from there. The sense
at the end of his poems, is that he is acknowledging the wrongs, but moving on,
finding a sort of balance or peace in acceptance. Michael made the point in class that writers in
Walcott's situation have the obligation to add their voice to the dialogue since
they have a unique perspective. Colonial and postcolonial literature students see the
impact of literature on culture and culture on literature, across time and
national borders. It forces us to
examine our assumptions and adjust our perspectives.
Readers come to realize that multiple voices are necessary to make the
story whole. |