Heart of Darkness

What I remember most about this novel, which like many people I studied in high school, is the image of the river snaking its way through the country: "an immense snake uncoiled, with its head in the sea, its body at rest curving afar over a vast country and its tail lost in the depths of the land." In particular, I recall the lengthy discussion we had with the teacher about the phallic symbolism of the river penetrating the forest in this way. I also remember distinctly the subsequent conversation I had with some of my classmates about whether Joseph Conrad had really had all these veiled, deeper meanings in mind when he told the story of Marlow and Mr. Kurtz, or whether he was simply recounting in fiction his own terrifying experience of the Congo in the late nineteenth century. Cynical teenagers that we were…

Years later, I am reminded that most of the gruesome details in Conrad’s novel were based on true facts – not least the collection of African heads decorating Mr Kurtz’s fenceposts, which actually decorated the flowerbed of a certain Captain León Rom some hundred years ago, just a stone’s throw from where I now sit typing this post.

For a few days now I have been in Kisangani – Conrad’s "Inner Station" at the head of the rapids, the very centre of the African continent, the heart of darkness where dreams of grandeur and the inebriating, irresistible lust for ivory caused more than one head to turn and unimaginable horrors to ensue. Kisangani is also the setting for another novel: "A Bend in the River" by V.S. Naipul, although interestingly neither book explicitly names the town which provided its inspiration.

Written in 1979, "A Bend in the River" is about a young Indian from the Eastern coast who buys a shop in a town near some rapids on the bend of the River Congo in an effort to prove himself away from his family. As he slowly builds a successful business, the Big Man (the country’s president) consolidates his power and embarks on an 'Africanization' campaign of which the hero soon falls victim. In the end, the reader is left with the image of a country collapsing into political and social turmoil.

It is fascinating, if disturbing, to read a book written in 1979 and to find it all so eminently recognisable. In Naipul’s book, foreign mercenaries are sent in by the central government to save the town from rebel forces. After they successfully quell the rebellion, they are portrayed hanging out at the terrace of the biggest hotel, having inadvertently caused a massive inflationary bubble and stirring a complex mix of anger and relief in the local population. They are bizarrely reminiscent of the UN forces omnipresent here in Kisangani, their white jeeps and trucks by far the most visible vehicles in town bar an extensive collection of 'tolekas' (taxi-bicycles). Most of the buildings described in the book are still standing, derelict and forlorn after years of war. It makes one wonder what our children will read about the year 2006, what twist of fate will make this or that event more significant than the others.