Heart of Depersonalization

In Heart of Darkness, Joseph Conrad allows his readers to explore the connection, or rather the lack thereof, between reality and perception. This is arguably unavoidable; some  say that is the factor that makes humans unique: we interpret the world around us, categorizing new knowledge based on past experiences, and blocking out anything that would jeopardize this foundation. But, this quirk of humanity is not without faults. In the novel, we see that justifying any action does not prevent negative repercussions whether we choose to acknowledge them or not. The heart of darkness is present in all of us. It is the innate ability of the human psyche to justify hurting others. The resulting depersonalization that is not only “unsayable,” but irreversible. Marlow experiences this as he sees the results of imperialism, and yet continues to perpetuate the cycle. Conrad creates a very human narrator, who has very real flaws. We as readers, focus on Marlow and his struggles, while Conrad takes a subtle stand against the prevailing urge to dominate that is still problematic today.
Imperialism wasn’t exactly a revolutionary idea-- subjugation or bondage goes back to the Old Testament, but humans have failed to learn from such an extensive past and continue to repeat the pattern. Conrad seems to at least register this trend, relating through Marlow that “And this [London] also... has been one of the dark places on earth… I was just thinking of very old times, when the Romans first here nineteen hundred years ago-- the other day… but light has come out of this river [the Thames] since.” (Conrad 3) This seems to support the theory that Heart of Darkness is one of the earliest pieces of anti-imperialist literature. True, Conrad and Marlow appear share very “modern,” (Nayak) “humane and advanced views,” (İçöz) but in other ways, they were both blind to their own hypocrisy.  “Marlow condemns the brutality of imperialism and yet colludes with its ruling ideology” (İçöz) and “Conrad seems to oppose only wasteful and selfish imperialism. He appears to justify British imperialism on grounds that it is “efficient" and conducted according to some unspecified “idea.”” (Hawkins) But, this debate is hard to quantify, as Conrad was subject to the same society he set his novel in, when conquering was something to “boast” ( Conrad 3) of. His ideas were ahead of his time and the beginning of a movement.
He saw that no one was truly benefitting from the imperial machine and no amount of words or ideals were going to change that. Marlow’s asserts that, “The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing ...What redeems it is the idea only”(Conrad, 4) To be redeemed, something must first be damned. As a participant in the perpetuating of this poorly justified conquest of Africa and it’s peoples, Marlow is not only excusing Imperialism as a whole, but his part in it. He puts on “blinders” (Achebe) to any other perception of reality. In protectively creating this filtered perception of reality, he secures his self esteem and to a certain extent, sanity. Throughout the novel, Marlow seems to be struggling with himself, he “condemns the brutality of imperialism and yet colludes with its ruling ideology.” (İçöz) He is unable to reconcile the theory with the actions it condones, excuses, and encourages, and this discrepancy creates a considerable gap between Marlow’s perception and the reality of the situation.
In addition to the debate surrounding Conrad’s opinion on Imperialism as a whole is one equally heated concerning whether or not Conrad is racist, and if he is, whether or not it is justifie.? Many think it is at least excusable, but some “believe... Conrad saw and condemned the evil of imperial exploitation but was strangely unaware of the racism on which it sharpened its iron tooth. But the victims of racist slander who for centuries have had to live with the inhumanity it makes them heir to have always known better than any casual visitor even when he comes loaded with the gifts of a Conrad.” (Achebe) Indeed, at first Conrad seems quite resolute in keeping Africans securely subhuman, taking away their right to being treated as such: with respect. He justifies the inequality surrounding the natives by putting them on a different level, thus it is logical at least and natural at best. Indeed this was the public opinion at the time, Social Darwinism provided even more fuel for the flame that was racism and subjugation. Marlow constantly focuses heavily on the natives’ blackness, to help him overlook their humanity. Despite his best attempts to keep them separate, he begins to see them as humans, whether he likes it or not, “Fine fellows-- cannibals-- in their place,” (31) and even to the point of seeing the humanity in a threatening an seemingly barbaric group of Africans, “No-- they were not inhuman.” (31) This revelation is shot home when the helmsman is taken down by a spear. At first, the loss seems to be only of the purpose he served and the shoes he ruined, but when you notice a few interesting details, it becomes clear that this is when Marlow finally sees the “kinship.” Up to this point, the only colors use to describe an african are black and ebony, or the “whites of their eyes,” yet in this passage, Marlow notices the helmsman's blue vest and his red blood. Perhaps most striking is the assertion, “I can't forget him [Kurtz], 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.” (Conrad, 46) The death of the helmsman was the first step.
Although Marlow is able to preserve his sense of identity and purpose as he sails up the Congo towards the great Mr. Kurtz, his entire system of cognition is shattered when he encounters his fellow idealist. As he witnesses that “he [Kurtz] had taken a high seat amongst the devils of the land” (Conrad, 44) his sense of reality is severely shaken. He felt threatened and scared, suddenly aware of his own insignificance and vulnerability. Without intending to, Conrad related something that is indeed “unsayable,” a psychological shift referred to as depersonalization, which simply put is the disconnect between someone’s perception and reality, which some believe is an “emergency defensive procedure against antithetical ideas” (Freud, 1936) or a the “result of a pathological split between the observing and acting sub-functions of the psyche” (Nunberg, 1955; cf. Freud, 1915).” This reaction is more common than one would originally think. According to a study done on Dartmouth undergraduate students, approximately half of the 121 tested said they had experience depersonalization. If you ever wondered if life was just a dream or if there was another world in the mirror, you’ve experienced it as well. Infinitely related to  depersonalization is prothesis. It is the loss of personhood, or gaining “thing-ness” (Apter) of yourself or those around you.
Conrad frequently relates how he cannot articulate or fully communicate the experiences Marlow had while in Africa. To the casual reader this may be annoying and at worst, mistaken for sheer laziness, but when you take this depersonalization into consideration, the fact he can even come close to sharing the sensation is amazing. Many report that depersonalization is dreamlike and extremely difficult to explain. Marlow had been slowly making his way to such a psyche, revealing that “Conrad’s vision.. is an understanding of human nature as fragile and contingent, but deeply social. For this reason, it can only become real, so to speak, or actual, by engaging concrete realities beyond itself—which includes, most importantly, recognizing the humanity of others.” (Baldwin) With this in mind, I argue that neither racism nor anti-imperialism is Conrad’s caveat, but rather a society that promotes anything that can push people to such lengths to protect themselves.
Marlow is not the only European victim of this need to become safe. “While many have noticed that Conrad’s Africans are reduced to a less than human state, fewer have noticed that the same imagery of hollowness connects these victims to those who dehumanize them, the sundry agents of the Company. These perpetrators, as it were, are the novella’s more conspicuous ‘hollow men,’ those who have received more critical attention.” (Baldwin) There are several scattered instances in Marlow’s tale when he references others seeming to be empty, as “if I tried I could push my forefinger through him, and would find nothing inside but a little loose dirt, maybe.” (Conrad, 22) Even the great Kurtz is described as being “hollow in the core.” (Conrad, 53) A lesser noted, but equally fascinating example of this is the Russian who dutifully cares for Kurtz. He, like his coat, has many colored patches that cover that which he does not which to acknowledge the existence of. Protectively, he filters reality. Nearly every European we encounter in the novel has some sort of mental filter in place. And yet, the culture in their homeland pushes more and more people towards Africa, to make others suffer and to suffer themselves. What can this society be based on?
Which brings me to the Heart of Darkness. What is it really? Why does Conrad make it seem like another character? It is more than a symbol or a motif, it is the driving force behind the novel and to come anywhere near a decent analysis, you got to consider the Heart of Darkness. Unlike the Lord of the Flies, which has a very quantifiable and singular meaning, the Heart of Darkness is nearly completely unexplained. Conrad allows us to find out what it is, and it may be different for different people. The Heart of Darkness is the desire to dominate no matter what, no matter who you put in danger or harm, no matter who you leave behind as well as the effects of such behavior. I was always afraid of the dark as a child, light was so friendly and helpful. It showed you things that darkness would either conceal or transform into horrors. A vacuum in the dark can appear to be strange, humanoid, and possibly dangerous. You’ll lose things in the dark. You’ll lose yourself in the dark, “in the psychology of colonization and the ease with which the individual can be unaware of the disjunction between his words and his work in such a society.” (İçöz) Europeans in Africa lost more than a connection to the outside world, but a connection to their own identities. Becoming depersonalized, part of a machine, an anomaton, they are acted upon, controlled. By making those around them subhuman, they lose their own humanity, they are consumed by the Heart of Darkness, and it leaves no room for anything else. They become like Kurtz, a “shell”, a “shade” empty, ethereal, and insubstantial.
Joseph Conrad’s classic novella is more than it first appears. The thin work, under a hundred pages in length, is dense and full of insight. Whether it be because of where Conrad was from, his views, or just a very helpful muse, there is a reason it has become a staple in English Literature. Through his albeit hypocritical critique of Imperialism, he shows us how the Western cultural push towards harming others to help yourself damages the human psyche. This ideal is still present in our society today, though maybe not as extreme as it was when Conrad penned the novella. We hear about it, we might even see it, but we, like Marlow, distance ourselves from it. We do not take action to stop the cruelty we see. WE justify this inaction, thinking in the private recesses of our minds that we are not responsible, that the person can’t possibly be hurt by such a stupid insult or comment, and that we would inevitably be dragged into the conflict, exacerbating the problem. We perceive things in a way in which we can feel comfortable with ourselves and maintain a good social status. Imperialism is merely a by-product of this same thinking. We are willing to put others down to elevate ourselves, but this in itself is a paradox. As we turn our focus inward, becoming selfish, losing ability to see the humanity in others, we become damaged, overtaken by the Heart of Darkness, savage.
Conrad hides behind not one, but two narrators, making his stance on many issues hard to pin-down, and some may say the issues he focuses on are no longer relevant. The Age of Colonization is over. There are many documents that attest to the rights of every person on this earth, and rules against discrimination on race, sex, religion, and even sexual orientation, and yet humanity is still running into the same problems as told of in Genesis: we want to be powerful. Control seems appealing until you wield it, and feel the weight of it. Conrad proves through a parable of sorts, that the human psyche is naturally opposed to harming another human, but that it can condition itself, protect itself, detach itself when prompted. This is incredibly relevant, the modern world is one in which depersonalization, or detachment, is common because of the strain placed there by societal expectations. The Heart of Darkness and its partner, the heart of depersonalization is present in all of us. Conrad provides a powerful argument against a passive tolerance of it and its manifestations, showing the outcome of inaction.
may 2014