Jenny Brewer From Self-Other Polarization to Self-Other Interaction: An Intertextual Approach            
The “terms and themes” material provided through our 
course website introduces the self-other dialectic in terms of problem and 
solution. The problem is that seeing the world in terms of “us versus them” puts 
individuals and societies in danger of polarization--of validating the self at 
the other's expense. 
An intellectual solution is given: to this is to see 
self and other as three instead of two, with the interaction between the two 
forming the third side of an imaginary triangle. 
Exploring the self-other dialectic is definitely the 
most obvious--and perhaps the most valuable--ground for intertextual studies, 
and the class texts set in or regarding Africa are the most strikingly ripe for 
this pursuit.            
Heart of Darkness 
features much that is mystifying in the relationship between the English and 
their African employees. During discussion our class was revealed to be 
universally flabbergasted by the idea of a voyage being undertaken without any 
thought to feeding the crew; and equally incredulous that said crew would have 
contracted for such an odd wage as lengths of brass wire. 
Also lacking is a believable explanation for Kurtz's 
authority over the tribe of his mistress. 
Their numbers seem too large to have been defeated 
by such weapons as he is described to possess, and his personal charisma could 
not have come into play until enough time had passed after first contact for the 
language barrier to be bridged. 
Reading this book as it stands, we are dropped 
midstream into a business structure in which the “bosses” make no effort to 
justify or explain themselves and the employees are given no history, agency, or 
voice.              
Viewing the Al-Jazeera English video “Africa: States 
of Independence—Scramble for Africa” fills in some significant background. 
The scholar Lansine Kaba explained how the Act of 
Berlin made African tribes into European subjects without their knowledge or 
consent, and how—in the Belgian Congo, at least--this gave the Europeans the 
right to tax the natives, and to take those taxes through labor in the 
(overwhelmingly likely) event those natives did not have cash (and to take those 
taxes though punitive amputation if they couldn't get them through labor!) Seen 
through this lens, the wages of brass wire seem like a pretty good deal. 
What is most telling about the Act of Berlin; 
however, is the absolute self-other polarization indicated by the signatories' 
belief that they were justified in disposing among themselves an entire 
continent of people without even consulting them.            
Beyond the political hubris of the Act of Berlin,
Heart of Darkness is 
further colored by Conrad's own prejudices. 
Chinua Achebe's article, "An Image of Africa: Racism 
in Conrad's Heart of Darkness," 
takes us much further into the context that gave rise to this novel. 
Achebe begins his article by citing two different 
examples of academics he had encountered who did not 
even believe African History existed. 
For a people to have no history, they would have had 
to have sprung into existence at the very moment Europeans met them—a biological 
impossibility, but very convenient if your purpose is to exploit. 
If they have no history, there is no need to see 
them as anything more than they appear, in fact, they must be something close to 
your own creation. As their creator, what could you possibly owe them?            
Achebe's article further enlightens by noting that 
“it is clearly not part of Conrad's purpose to confer language on the 
"rudimentary souls" of Africa.” He follows this statement by pointing out the 
only two times the savages are allowed to speak. It is shocking to realize, 
reading the novel after reading this article, that there are indeed only two 
places where Africans speak. 
However, the term “rudimentary souls” is far more 
troubling. How in the world does one man become qualified to judge the state of 
the soul of another--particularly when you have no way of knowing the thoughts 
or feelings of that “other?” 
The assumption that Africans' differences from 
Europeans can only mean that their souls lack development is self-other 
polarization to an astounding degree.            
So, who were they, really, these history-less 
rudimentary souls? 
The video and the article do an excellent job of 
showing us what is missing from Conrad's portrayal of Africans, but how do we 
fill in the blanks? Fortunately for us, we came to 
Heart of Darkness through 
Things Fall Apart. 
We already know such Africans as Okonkwo and 
Obierika, with their more-than-rudimentary souls and their histories stretching 
back for untold generations. 
We have watched through Umuofian eyes the coming of 
the white man and the irreverence with which he was initially discussed. 
Conrad talks of the natives “grunting among 
themselves” and we know enough to wonder whether they might be calling the 
fireman an “ashy buttocks” amongst themselves. 
For us, confronting Conrad post-Achebe makes the 
Hippo Meat Affair into a huge narrative gap instead of the interesting side-note 
that Marlow sees. The experience of reading these five texts together, in the order assigned, is an experience I would prescribe to every American. Particularly, to encounter Conrad's frenzied and eye-rolling Africans after already having lived with Okonkwo and the Umuofians brings self-other polarization into high relief. Facing that polarization equipped with the skills to put the two novels into dialogue with each other means we can quickly extract the third “ray” of the self-other triangle. This develops intellectual muscles within us that assure our preparedness for real-life encounters with chauvinism of all stripes. 
  |