Colonialism in the Short Story “An Outpost of Progress” by Joseph Conrad Essay

Even with no clear proof from the book the reader with some familiarity of the European history can surmise from the observation about Carlier as an ex-member of an army certain from harm by some European colonies (p.11, ll. 45–46) that the incidents are situated in ‘the free state of Congo’. The given names Carlier and Kayerts denoting both the Walloon and the Flemish aspects of the Belgian state are additional pointers that the setting is Belgian Congo. Furthermore, the French lingo is the main medium of communiqué: once asked about the bizarre conduct of the visitors, Makola ‘appeared to have forgotten the French language’ (p.21, ll. 43–44).

It could be that the author was intentionally unclear on the setting of “An Outpost of Progress”, for him to be able to take in all the European clouts in his condemnation of the colonial outlook. These vague geopolitical approaches are similar to the void around the real outpost, apparently a no-man’s land. The direct setting of the internal space of the station though takes on a much apparent figure with its three structures, the grave with the cross extremely ‘much out of the right angles’ and the jetty (p.10, l. 18).

By connecting this ‘abode place’ of ‘the gentleman who had observed the commencement of all this’ (ll. 18–19) slept to the residence of the white men which neatly built of reeds, with a balcony on both the four sides of the house (l. 9). The writer sensitizes the person who reads to the transient nature of human buildings. Importantly, the balcony turns out to be the place of the final death scene in the story.

Another scene of acts and importance in the narrative is the patio/veranda of the compound, a gathering and trading location where several groups of locals and the white men convene and trade their merchandise, and where diverse views on culture, race, and religion encounter each other and frequently clash. It is still in the same location where Makola trails his enigmatic plans, where the six fine tusks are displayed, a place where the good-looking nude natives from the local villages would sit on their heels as their chiefs negotiated for several hours with Makola over an elephant tusk’(p.16, ll. 1–2).

The uninformed control of the white man becomes apparent in Kayerts’s situation: when he sat on a chair and gazed down on the dealings, while he understood nothing’ (ll. 2–3). The part past the outpost differs greatly from the fairly practical depiction of the outpost.

Certainly, different from introductory explanations of the story’s characters, setting, and some satirical indications on civilization, Part I of this narrative includes only the preliminaries of an outline of a plot with mounting tension that starts with: ‘Then, early one morning a group of people carrying weapons emerged out of the forest’(p.19, ll. 58–60). Additional parts of suspense are attained through the external looks of the strangers, their strange language and vague actions. Part I close on a note of looming tragedy as shown when one says: “our men should be together in case of some danger” (p.22, ll. 8–9).

The commencement of the second part, “present were 10 station men” evokes the impassive aloofness of the very first line of Part I, and then later followed by some kind of anthropological account of these characters. The narrative acquires impetus after some dark secrets of trading ivory for humans are slowly exposed, until it becomes clear to Kayerts and Carlier that, by inferred participation, they have probably been involved in an awful criminal act.

The dramatic climax and disaster are kept for the concluding pages as a kind of verification of the theory that was earlier developed in the text. It is viewed that men are reduced to their monster natures, to total triviality by the association of the so-called “civilized crowds” (p.12, l. 18). Their composure, courage, principles, confidence, and emotions are taken away from them, (ll. 21–22).

With Carlier and Kayerts evidently depicted as the two main characters of the narrative in the first sentence (‘i.e. there were two white men) the person who reads may as well inquire how credible these two individuals later become in the story, or other words, do they attain the qualities ascribed to ‘round characters’ such as individuality, diversification, and development? One can argue that Conrad himself had envisaged them to show his ideas on the task of society i.e. “the crowd” and how it resolves people’s actions and mind; the society, and not from any softness, but due to its bizarre needs, had taken good care of those two white men, forbidding them all free thought, all plans, all exit from routine.

The society could only survive on condition of becoming machines’ (p.14, ll. 5–9). In refuting the two men any intellectual freedom the writer lessens them to machines then to lifetime captives, sheer simulacra of human beings who don’t have any true feelings. This ominous outlook of human nature was typical of the time. It is obvious that Conrad is aiming at comparable commemorations of imperialist zeal in the British press, and by making Carlier and Kayerts easy prey to this philosophy and doubting their ‘civilization mission’, they turn out to be the vehicles for his ironic criticism of colonialism.

How much distinctive individuality does each of the two characters really possess? At the onset the two individuals can hardly be told apart from one another, walking together and affirming the other’s arguments (p.12, ll. 35ff.). The two are mostly referred to as ‘the two men’ or ‘they’ or by the company’s director as ‘the two imbeciles’ (p.11, l. 55). As it was obvious that they were having criminal dealing they remain united as partners in crime.

Though, each has been plagued by failure before (both in the military and in administration) and his own pathetic reasons for being engaged in the imposing system both quite common of jobs in the colonial services. Even though Kayerts is the one responsible for that particular colony and Carlier as subordinate doesn’t hinder their friendship, that fills in the hollowness of their lonely lives, making them totally dependent on each other.

The gradual change affects them simultaneously both mentally and physically as stated in (p.28, ll. 28–30): ‘a feeling that cannot be clearly defined as if some deep component within them is no longer there, something that had assured them their safety, and had kept the wilderness from changing their hearts.’ In the concluding scenes, however, the opinion is entirely articulated to Kayerts. Even before Carlier’s demise the reader witness and listen to the developments with Kayert’s perceptions (p.32, ll. 8ff.). The two characters may still be referred to as ‘two of the same thing’, reflecting each other in their twisted individualities.

Whatever dissimilarities there are amid the two figures, they are by a small degree, Kayerts is shown to be the loyal one and also the more anxious of the two, while Carlier has little conscience on their dealings on slaves and he is perceived to be ready to make a profit by whichever means. He openly stands up against his superior, affronts him, and begins the tussle which later resulted in his death. In the closing scenes, Kayerts’ image gains a different moral aspect into his cohort’s death when some new insight dawns on him, exposing his true character as an advocate in lots of gibberish just like the rest of people, (p.35, l. 45). Carlier’s suicide is only dependable with this imminent into his exact role in the trade game, (p.35, ll. 62–63).

When it comes to Makola, he is a little more controversial and an intricate figure. He is the one who was responsible for the store and its local staff; he is seen to be the resourceful agent of the colonial business and shows to be good at his role in the business than the two whites. This is because of his outstanding expertise in writing, bookkeeping, and his fluency in numerous skills in languages which happened to be important if the colonial business was to succeed, (p.25, ll. 51–55).

He has a dual identity which manifests in his two names i.e. “Henry Price”, which is by his own partiality, centering on the excellence that determines his survival, and the other one Makola, representing his contribution in the native African traditions.

Equipped with these rules of operation of both traditional systems, he happens to be the perfect cross-cultural mediator, maliciously using both systems to benefit himself, but he is also alienated from both systems. When the author refers to him as ‘a civilized nigger’ (p.24, l. 27), he apparently refers to Makola’s cleanliness to the civilization success of the European culture, however in the wider perspective being ‘civilized’ only denotes the thin layer of duplicitous and phony deeds and doesn’t have deeper ethical insight or values. As seen in (p.10, l. 1) His devotion to African tradition is limited to the Worshiping of evil spirits which may even include human sacrifices. Maybe the evil spirit had propitiated him by a promise of more European men to do business with’ (p.10, ll. 27–28). In this perspective, the African traditions are evidently linked with outdated superstition and savagery.

The entire narrative covers a time frame of not less than eight months (p.30, ll. 12–13), with the happenings of the previous day and night accounting for about one-fourth of the whole. It is viewed in a consistently omniscient perspective that the unfolding happenings are sighted with a changing focus. Whereas the entire story is an ironic depiction of the incompetence of the European colonial project, a lot of emphases must be focused on Conrad’s ways of characterization.

Instances of symbolic indications can be seen in the use of contrast: as shown in (p.16, ll. 33–34) ‘the powerful silence of taciturn magnitude’ of the forests, and in (p.21, ll. 56–57) Onomatopoeia: “screams that are similar to snatches of music from a madhouse darted strident and high in dissonant sound jets”.

Work Cited

Joseph Conrad. An Outpost of Progress; Michigan, The Institute, 1982.