Shedding Light on Conrads Darkness :: Essays Papers

Shedding Light on Conrads DarknessMy mother bore me in the s byhern wild, And I am black, besides O my soul is gaberdine White as an angel is the English child But I am black as if bereavd of free. -William Blake The Little Black Boy. Bereavd of light is the quintessential idea whizz coming upons when reading Conrads Heart of Darkness. We enter the Congo, a place filled with Keats verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways, a place where Conrad calls the utmost(a) point of navigation. From whence comes our source of light? Who is this source of light? In order to enhance our understanding I propose that we look into the one who is out of place. To clarify my proposal, I mean to say that we result look at the Black slice in the White backdrop, and vice versa. In Book VII of his famous poem, The Prelude, William Wordsworth tells of his encounter with The Beggar on the streets of London. In my opinion, the Beggar is representative of the Black man in London. He is seen as a beggar , treated like one, and respected, or rather, disrespected, like one. He is merely a spectacle, a nuisance, living out the mere scraps of the English. Wordsworth describes the beggar saying, ...a blind Beggar, who, with his upright face, stood, propped against a wall, upon his dressing table wearing a written paper, to explain the story of the man and who he was. My mind did at this spectacle turn round as with the might of waters, and it seemed to me that in this label was a type, or emblem, of the utmost that we know, both of ourselves and of the universe and on the shape of the unmoving man, his fixed face and sightless eyes, I looked, as if admonished from another humanness. We find the Beggar out of place, in a world clearly not his own. He is labeled, shunned, outcasted. He lies blind, desolate, unmoving. This is what the English society has through with(p) to him. Like the African natives in Heart of Darkness he is silenced, provided he screams a powerful image. His labe l says it all. Wordsworth, the Englishman, is unable to reach out to him, as he is from another world. Yet he cannot help but be caught, trapped, by the spectacle of the Beggar. His centre cannot be overlooked, just as Conrads message is not to be overlooked either.