LITR 5734 2005 sample student midterm

LITR 5734: Colonial & Postcolonial Literature

Sample Student Midterm 2005

Georgeann Ward

27 September 2005

Colonial and Post-Colonial Dialogue in the Works of Conrad, Achebe, and Walcott

While the novel exists as a combination of narrative story telling and dialogue between characters, the effects of British colonization can be best understood through study of the historical reality and of the dialogue that ensues between modern and traditional texts (White, 30 August 2005). If, indeed, the best tool against racism is an open line of communication through which questions are asked on both sides, then examining texts in this way allows readers the opportunity to understand the world from different perspectives and fosters a humanistic rather than nationalistic understanding of the world. When read together, Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, and the poetry of Derek Walcott act in this way, demystifying modern, or “civilized,” culture’s misunderstanding of traditional, or “savage,” peoples.

One interesting way to look at colonial and post-colonial texts is as stimulus and response, a technique that works beautifully with Heart of Darkness and Things Fall Apart, especially in conjunction with the article, “An Image of Africa: Racism in Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.” As stated in a class presentation (Ward, 6 September 2005), in his article, Chinua Achebe provokes conversation through a verbal attack on Conrad, calling him a racist and questioning his work’s validity as a classic text. Readers may better understand texts from the colonial and post-colonial point of view by examining Achebe’s claims against Conrad and then justifying or rebutting them after a close reading of both texts. While Achebe’s scathing indictment against Conrad would typically stymie conversation, Conrad himself, through his narrator Marlow, already shows no interest in exchange with the African natives, but instead presents to the readers one-sided, ignorant depictions that could be perceived as truths. One of Achebe’s main grievances with Conrad’s work is that he bestows no language upon the natives in his story. He depicts the African natives in terms of an incomprehensible natural force, of which the European colonizers have no capability of understanding. Conrad writes of Marlow’s journey down the great river:

But suddenly as we struggled round a bend there would be a glimpse of rush walls, of peaked grass-roofs, a burst of yells, a whirl of black limbs, a mass of hand clapping, feet stamping, of bodies swaying, of eyes rolling under the droop of heavy and motionless foliage. The steamer toiled along slowly on the edge of a black and incomprehensible frenzy. The prehistoric man was cursing us, praying to us, welcoming us—who could tell? We were cut off from the comprehension of our surroundings; we glided past like phantoms, wondering and secretly appalled, as sane men would be before an enthusiastic outbreak in a madhouse. (Conrad 17)

Here, in one quote from a book filled with similar passages, Conrad portrays the natives more as a feature of the African landscape and climate rather than as brother human beings. Marlow remains distanced from natives, with no desire to make a human connection. As written in the 2003 midterm essay, “The Power of Language and the Lie of Imperialism,” the author asserts that in denying the African people a voice, Conrad also denies them a cultural identity, but more than that, he delivers grave insult to the African culture when he does allow the natives to utter a few rudimentary and violent phrases.

As an example of the dialogue between colonial and post-colonial texts, in Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe corrects Conrad’s depiction of a race without intelligible language by emphasizing the importance and intricacies of spoken word in the Ibo tribes. In many different passages, Achebe depicts the Ibo peoples as a culture deeply rooted in the oral tradition of story telling and historical recall. In a passage in which a friend addresses Okonkwo’s father, the author writes, “Having spoken plainly thus far, Okoye said the next half a dozen sentences in proverbs. Among the Ibo, the art of conversation is regarded very highly, and proverbs are the palm-oil on which words are eaten” (Achebe 7). Achebe shows that in a culture without writing, verbal (and physical) exchange means everything.

Similarly, Achebe includes many of the African folktales to demonstrate the importance of spoken language in perpetuating the cultural values of the native Africans. One such example occurs when Okonkwo’s uncle, Uchendu, rationalizes another tribe’s demise through the telling of a parable about a young kite who brings home a duckling to eat, but is made to return it when the kite’s mother finds out that the mother duck said nothing and walked away upon her baby’s capture. Uchendu summarizes the parable by saying, “Never kill a man who says nothing. . . . There is something ominous behind the silence. . . . There is nothing to fear from someone who shouts” (Achebe 140). By including African folk tales and parables, Achebe shows the importance of the spoken word in his culture.

Furthermore, Achebe demands that readers join the conversation when he includes tribal vocabulary throughout the text. Achebe sprinkles African words like egwugwu, ilo, isa-ifi, kotma, and obi, throughout the English text to show that there is definite meaning in the syllables uttered by Conrad’s natives. In some examples, Achebe explains the words, and in others, he does not. In chapter nine, for instance, Achebe writes of Ekwefi’s terrible luck in childbirth and consequent visit to a medicine man. Achebe explains, “This man told him that the child was an ogbanje, one of those wicked children who, when they died, entered their mothers’ wombs to be born again” (Achebe 77). Yet, in the scene in which the priestess Chielo carries Ezinma to “the Hills,” she repeats “Agbala do-o-o-o! Agbala ekeneo-o-o-! Chi negbu madu ubosi ndu ya nato ya uto daluo-o-o!” (Achebe 107), and readers are left to discern meaning on their own. By analyzing context clues to understand the foreign words, readers become active participants in the text rather than uninvolved spectators of Okonkwo’s tragedy.

In many other examples throughout Things Fall Apart, Achebe picks up elements of Conrad’s story and explains them from an African perspective. One such example occurs in the description of drumbeats in both novels. In Conrad’s work, Marlow is awakened by the “monotonous,” “muffled” sound of drums beating, yet almost returns to his sleep-- standing up (Conrad 63). To him, this noise has the effect of “audible and soothing silence” (Conrad 63), while to Achebe, the beat of drums serves an important role in public communication and represents the spirit of African tradition. In chapter two, Achebe describes the importance of the drum in communicating, when the town crier beats his instrument and calls a tribal meeting for the following day. The booming “gome, gome, gome” of the drum gets the attention of all of villagers so that the town crier’s message can be heard (Achebe 9). In another scene, Achebe describes the tradition of wrestling in Okonkwo’s village and writes, “The crowd had surrounded and swallowed up the drummers whose frantic rhythm was no longer a mere disembodied sound but the very heartbeat of the people” (Achebe 50). By illustrating the importance of the drum in African culture, Achebe answers the insult that Conrad delivers in comparing the beating of the African drum to silence.

Clearly, in “An Image of Africa,” Achebe shows resentment to the willful ignorance of African culture that Conrad portrays in his work, but in further analysis, readers see a response to that form of racism with a novel that acts not only as an interesting work of fiction as a sort of guidebook to tribal life. In this way, readers of Heart of Darkness and Things Fall Apart witness a dialogue between colonial and post-colonial texts. Furthermore, readers have the opportunity to see juxtaposed the evidence of traditional and modern life. While the people of Umuofia exhibit communicate through the oral tradition, Marlow shows the English appreciation of literary tradition when he becomes elated upon finding the Russian’s book in the abandoned hut. While the Ibo people worship tribal gods and demonstrate animism, Conrad shows appreciation of “world religions” when he compares Marlow’s posture to a “meditating Buddha” (Conrad 76) and when he writes of the discussion of Christian missionary work between Marlow and his aunt (Conrad 15). While Okonkwo and his family adhere to the economic model of subsistence, eating all of their yams within the year that they are picked (Achebe 36), and display local/tribal loyalties, the crew on Marlow’s ship represents the modern ideal of economic growth and global domination. Conrad writes of the men who sailed out of the Thames, “Hunters for gold or pursuers of fame they all had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and often the torch, messengers of the might within the land, bearers of a spark from the sacred fire” (Conrad 8). Not only do Heart of Darkness and Things Fall Apart present a dialogue between cultures, they represent the differences between modern and traditional culture, respectively.

Similarly to these two novels, the poetry of Derek Walcott addresses themes of colonial and post-colonial studies, but in a far more personal and conflicted way. Derek Walcott himself exists as a “hybrid” individual with both English and African blood running through his veins. For his class presentation, Luis Sáenz wrote, “Walcott is concerned with the conflict between the heritage of European and West Indian culture and his role as a nomad between two cultures” (6 September 2005). In “Ruins of a Great House,” for example, Walcott describes for the reader the remains of a former slave plantation and ponders rejecting his English heritage in response to their cruelty to his African ancestors. He writes, “Ablaze with rage I thought,/ Some slave is rotting in this manorial lake,/ But still the coal of my compassion fought/ That Albion too was once/ A colony like ours, “part of the continent, piece of the main,”/ Nook-shotten, rook o’erblown, deranged/ By foaming channels and the vain expense/ Of bitter faction.” Walcott’s answer to the conflict within himself is a very humanistic and individualistic approach to being. Though he is enraged by the English murder of slaves, he also understands an historically cyclic distribution of power and the universal conclusion of man’s existence, death. Also, in “A Far Cry from Africa,” Walcott writes, “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?” Walcott cannot and will not reject either part of himself, but instead assumes the role of hybrid individual.

Studied together, the works of Walcott, Conrad, and Achebe provide students of Colonial and Post-Colonial Literature with an interesting introduction to the dialogue between traditional and modern culture. While Conrad portrays the African natives and speechless and deranged animals, Achebe describes the British colonizers as de-humanizing beasts, responsible for the destruction of African culture, and Walcott attempts to reconcile the remnants of both worlds within himself. If, indeed, the best way to lessen racism is by asking questions and fostering conversation, studying this type of literature in combination and from the colonial/post-colonial point-of-view would benefit students of all ages.