months, returned to a period of hospitalization in London and suffered a legacy of ill health for the rest of his life. His first-hand encounter with the effects of Leopoldâs rule in the Congo almost certainly left him with deeper scars: according to a close friend, the episode formed âthe turning-point in his mental lifeâ, shaped âhis transformation from a sailor to a writerâ and âswept away the generous illusions of his youthâ. 2
One of the products of this period was âThe Congo Diaryâ (included in this edition), Conradâs record of his daily movements during the first part of his stay. Severely factual and never intended for publication, the diary nevertheless offers his earliest written account of a peopled Africa and may have been kept to preserve material that would be of use to the later writer.
Conradâs first African work, âAn Outpost of Progressâ, was composed six years later. A fine short story in its own right, âAn Outpostâ also represents an important stage in Conradâs attempt to fashion a serious and grown-up colonial fiction distinct from the boyish adventure stories of G. A. Henty and Rider Haggard. From his early Eastern novels the story inherits the large spectacle of the European abroad, removed from the constraints of the Western âcrowdâ, isolated in the wilderness and undergoing swift collapse. Here, however, the predicament is shaped by an acutely political awareness, with the focus partly upon its two carefully chosen types (a bureaucrat and a soldier) and partly upon the representative imperialist fictions arriving from Europe with them.
The degeneration of the two supposed âlight-bringersâ is remorseless: they arrive in Africa voicing the conventional view that as racially superior Europeans they have the right and duty to civilize âbackwardâ peoples, but ironies emerge when it transpires that, as two of Europeâs failed rejects, they are happy to cultivate failure, content with their fellowship in idleness and oblivious to the civilized litter they leave around an increasingly inefficient trading-post. Ultimately, however, the strengths of the story as a polemicâits aloof omniscient narration, singleness of focus and sparkling sarcasmâalso serve to define its limits. In Conradâs later view, âAn Outpostâ was mainly an important stepping-stone towards Heart of Darkness , in which an English narrator, Marlow, agitatedly reflects upon an earlier visit to Africa and his quest there towards the charismatic European trader, Kurtz. According to Conrad, his return to an African subject coincided with a widening sense of its possibilities and was accompanied by an intense ânightmare feelingâ ( Collected Letters , vol. II, p. 162).
II
Enigmatic though Heart of Darkness may finally prove to be, its early episodes are remarkable for their trenchant topicality. At the outset of its composition, Conrad described the story as being of âour time distinc[t]lyâ in its concern with the âcriminality of inefficiency and pure selfishness when tackling the civilizing work in Africaâ ( Collected Letters , vol. II, pp. 140â41). For his subject, he again returned to what was bluntly described in a coinage of 1884 as the âScramble for Africaâ, one resulting in the systematic annexation and exploitation of Africa by European powers during the last decades of the nineteenth century.
At an early point, the story offers a summary of these developments. The map of Central Africa available to the youthful Marlow presents it as a white blankness, an unexplored and unnamed terra incognita . To the older Marlow, the area has become, presumably as a result of European expansion, a more impenetrable and menacing âplace of darknessâ (9), while yet another map of the continent presents him with a multi-coloured chart, its pattern the visible