It would be easy to simply label ‘‘An Outpost of Progress’’ a tale that depicts the horrors of colonialism and focus serious scholarly attention on some of Conrad’s meatier, more symbolic works. Indeed, the relative lack of critical study of the story suggests there are few treasures to unearth in its comparatively short length. However, the story contains key elements that Conrad would later utilize in other significant works, especially Heart of Darkness . In particular, the story shows his critical views on colonialism and modern society, and reveals much more obviously how irony informs his controversial depictions of native Africans. Examining these early manifestations of important ideas and techniques provides a clearer indication of the author’s aims in his later works.
‘‘An Outpost of Progress’’ is, like Conrad’s other works, critical of colonialism in Africa. This message appears again in Heart of Dark, and many readers of both works accept the message as simply being, ‘‘colonialism is bad.’’ However, this message is delivered subtly. Only once is European colonialism directly addressed in ‘‘An Outpost of Progress’’ ; Kayerts and Carlier read through an old newspaper article they find at the station, praising ‘‘the merits of those who went about bringing light, and faith and commerce to the dark places of the earth.’’ The two men take comfort in this praise, imagining a future of billiard rooms and warehouses on the very spot where the trading station stands.
The scene is obviously written for comic effect, but the criticism inherent in the text is directed not so much at colonialism but at the two agents themselves. This is an important point that will come up again later. For now, it is enough to see that the story is not explicitly critical of European colonialism. In fact, it is worth noting that the only direct harm brought to native Africans in the story is perpetrated by other Africans. Likewise, the only violence carried out against white colonists is done by whites (whether it be by their own hand or someone else’s).
There may be simple explanation forthislack of a direct attack on colonialism. At the time the story was published—seven years after Conrad’s own experiences in the Congo—most non-Africans were still largely unaware of the atrocities being committed there in the name of civilization and progress. George Washington Williams, an African American publisher and activist, had written an open letter to King Leopold II of Belgium which detailed the cruelties he had witnessed; however, the letter—published as a pamphlet—was heavily criticized by Henry Morton Stanley, a Welsh journalist turned African explorer who had helped King Leopold II lay claim to much of the Congo Free State. Viewed as something of a hero among British citizens, Stanley’s criticism carried much weight—though Williams’s account regarded as truthful. In any case, besides the letter written by Williams, there were precious few accounts available in Europe of the inhumane treatment of native African peoples under colonialism. Indeed, it was not until seven years after Conrad’s story was published that Roger Casement’s famous report detailing the atrocities committed in the Congo Free State was released.
Since his audience was mainly British, it seems unlikely Conrad could have provided a harsher critique of colonialism at the time, unless he wanted it to go unpublished. Still, what Conrad does accomplish is subtle and perhaps just as important: he illustrates that colonialism is a destabilizing force in Africa. Instead of merely criticizing the actions of a few cruel agents, he shows that the very system itself upsets the existing cultural equilibrium of the region. Note that Makola is from Sierra Leone, far from the story’s setting in the Congo. (Though this setting is never explicitly stated by the author, it is generally accepted, based on all the incidental clues and the author’s own experiences.) He has been brought far from his own home by the trading company, whether directly or indirectly. His wife comes from another region as well, as do the traders who visit the station and trade ivory for the station’s workmen—who are themselves from another part of Africa. Traditional tribal regions are no longer honored; disputes between tribal groups increase people become displaced or—like the Loanda gunmen—roam the countryside with European-made weapons, taking what they can. This is actually a much broader criticism than if Conrad were to have detailed the horrors of the Congo Free State, which were, after all, performed under the leadership of the Belgian king, and had little directly to do with British colonies in Africa.
However, Conrad’s most scathing criticism is reserved not for colonialism specifically but for so-called ‘‘civilized’’ society and its human products. Colonialism is merely the mechanism by which these failings are exposed. Kayerts and Carlier are described by the narrator as ‘‘perfectly insignificant and incapable individuals, whose existence is only rendered possible through the high organization of civilized crowds.’’ In other words, the two men are worthless as individuals, but survive because of the safety net provided by the modern world. Conrad drives their worthlessness home repeatedly to the reader, stating that they are ‘‘imbeciles’’ who are ‘‘both, through want of practice, incapable of independent thought.’’ Yet it is society that Conrad blames for allowing such men to exist. They were never challenged or required to be anything other than machines. He writes, ‘‘Few men realize that their life, the very essence of their character, their capabilities and their audacities, are only the expression of their belief in the safety of their surroundings.’’ Indeed, his tone toward the two men is actually one of pity, and so he compares them to frightened children and blind men.
It is here that ‘‘An Outpost of Progress’’ shows its significance to Conrad’s body of work as a whole, because in it he offers one of the clearest descriptions of his philosophical viewpoint found in any of his fiction. This is the flip side of Conrad’s assertion that modern society allows unfit humans to flourish: the idea that humans, when removed from the protections and comforts of civilization, become whatever they have the potential to become. Note that this is very different from the idea that humans cut off from society become savages. In the case of Kayerts and Carlier it may be true, but only because—as Conrad so carefully reminds the reader throughout the entire story— these two men are worthless and therefore without any meaningful potential.
Perhaps the most important words in the story are spoken by an inconsequential character aboard the steamer after the two agents are dropped off. ‘‘They will form themselves there,’’ the old servant says to the director. With that, he sums up the thesis of the work: humans only show their true nature when the fac¸ ade of civilized society is stripped away, and many people in modern society would not be able to exist under such conditions. This theme appears throughout Conrad’s body of work, but is especially notable in Heart of Dark. However, without ‘‘An Outpost of Progress’’ and its clear expression of this theme, many readers have simply interpreted the other work as a depiction of humanity’s tendency toward savagery, as exemplified by the ivory trader Kurtz.
Another key element of the story may shed light on what is probably the greatest modern controversy related to Conrad: the accusation that his work is racist. This accusation was leveled by Nigerian novelist Chinua Achebe, who criticized passages from Heart of Darkness that he felt dehumanized the African characters. However, looking at ‘‘An Outpost of Progress’’—which in many ways is a sort of test run for Heart of Darkness —it becomes clear that Conrad’s depictions are viewed through a highly ironic narrative voice.This Voice is present in HeartofDarkness may be harder for readers to identify.
The ironic voice in ‘‘An Outpost of Progress’’ is so forceful that it would be hard to miss. Even the title of the story drips with irony, since nothing that happens at the station resembles progress in any way. Viewing Conrad’s depictions of Africans through this ironic lens, the purpose of the text shifts significantly. When the narrator describes the African traders who visit the station, they are described as ‘‘naked, glossy black, ornamented with snowy shells and glistening brass wire, perfect of limb.’’ Their language is described as ‘‘babbling’’ and their eyes as ‘‘startled, never resting.’’ But this is clearly intended to express the viewpoint of the station agents, who see the Africans as alien creatures. Indeed, Carlier even refers to a group of African warriors as ‘‘fine animals.’’ The narrative voice conveys the attitudes and prejudices of Kayerts and Carlier, and perhaps Conrad even meant it to convey the viewpoint of the average British reader. But his goal is not to validate this viewpoint but to reveal it as both naı¨ve and worthy of ridicule.
Even when the narrator seems to offer the view point of a native African, the irony continues— though the uninformed European remains as the target. Who can take seriously the description of Makola as an ideal company employee who ‘‘cherished in his innermost heart the worship of evil spirits’’? A judgment is being made of Makola that sums up the fears and suspicions of Europeans, but when placed in the context of his other traits, it seems absurd. Just in case there remains some confusion among the reader, the narrator later mentions ‘‘the Evil Spirit that rules the lands under the equator.’’ This follow-up passage removes all doubt that the viewpoint expressed is not meant to be Makola’s, but that of a fearful European reader. Heart of Darkness , the narrative voice gives way to a viewpoint character, which makes the ironic stance somewhat less clear to the reader.
Source:
Greg Wilson, Sara Constantakis – Short Stories for Students – Presenting Analysis, Context & Criticism on Commonly Studied Short Stories, vol. 31, Joseph Conrad, Published by Gale Group, 2010