Writers' Night Proceedings 2013 - Aquinas College

41 Pages·2013·0.25 MB·English

Aquinas College

Writers’ Night Symposium
Proceedings

April 19th, 2013
Cover image: Early modern painting depicting a lecture in a knight’s academy. The painting is
located in Rosenborg Castle, Denmark, and is part of a series of seven paintings depicting the
seven liberal arts. This painting illustrates Rhetoric, and is attributed to either Pieter Isaacsz or
Reinhold Timm.

The Writers’ Night Symposium is the culmination of the Writer’s Night Essay Contest, a
campus wide event sponsored by the Write Reason Plan.

The Write Reason Plan at Aquinas College aims to strengthen writing and logical thinking
habits among the student population. Write Reason is the effective expression of clear,
organized, and accurate ideas that are stated convincingly according to the objective standards of
truth and reality, as established in the Trivium of grammar, logic, and rhetoric, which is the
foundation of a liberal arts education.
Habits of mind (logic) and habits of expression through language (grammar and rhetoric) are the
foundation of a college level education. Through these habits we come to know the truth and
express ourselves responsibly according to what we know of reality. The Write Reason Plan
aims not only at improving writing and critical thinking skills, it considers the whole person as
an individual, a member of society, a citizen, a future professional, and made in the image of
God. To think according to the standards of logic and objective truth and to express ourselves
clearly is the end of all education and the vocation of every human person.
Table of Contents

“The Horror Endures, the Darkness Swallows:
Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and the Vulnerability of Modern Western Culture” 1
by Stephen Lanham

“Free Will and White Smoke:
The logical compatibility of divine foreknowledge and human freedom” 12
by Sr. Susanna Edmunds, O.P.

“St. Robert Southwell’s “A Vale of Teares”: Afflictio dat intellectum” 20
by Sr. Rose Miriam Collins, O.P.

“Dressed to Kill” by Michael McLean 31

“Cardinal Nguyen Van Thuan:
The Best of Vietnamese Culture” by Sr. Maria Thuan Nguyen, O.P. 36
“The Horror Endures, the Darkness Swallows:
Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and the Vulnerability of Modern Western Culture”
Stephen Lanham
ENG 214: English Literature
Instructor: Dr. Katherine Haynes
Since its publication in 1902, Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness has been widely
recognized as one of the most deeply complex stories regarding psychology, sociology, and the
human condition. Specifically, Conrad explores the realities of western imperialism, providing
his reader with a disturbing account of Central Africa under Belgian colonial rule. Charlie
Marlow, the narrator of this haunting and shadowy tale of European domination, and his
relationship to antihero Mr. Kurtz, continue to evoke both praise and condemnation for Heart of
Darkness to this day. Many readers and critics hail Heart of Darkness as an excellent expository
work regarding the atrocities of Belgian King Leopold II’s chokehold on the Congo Free State;
while other critics denounce Conrad as a racist, sexist, and supporter of imperial rule. Though
these common interpretations are important for an analytical reader to keep in mind, they often
overlook or shadow a crucial theme within Heart of Darkness. Marlow and Kurtz’s characters,
their relationship, and the far-reaching cultural vulnerability that the story indicates are often
darkened by a potential misinterpretation and inattentiveness to the narrator as such.
First, it may be helpful to examine Marlow and Kurtz as individuals in order to better
identify the intricacies that pervade their respective characters. Charlie Marlow is introduced at
the very beginning of Heart of Darkness as the story’s peculiar narrator. Aboard ship, anchored
in the Thames at sundown, Marlow proceeds to tell his fellow shipmates the tale of his time as a
riverboat captain in Africa. He recounts his beginnings; applying for the job, making the
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journey, and bringing his African steamship to an operable level after many weeks of waiting for
repair parts. Throughout Marlow’s reminiscence, Mr. Kurtz is sporadically mentioned by the
people Marlow comes in contact with, and Kurtz slowly evolves into a central point of Marlow’s
story. Marlow’s story is wrought with inconsistencies of conscience; he is often depicted as
indifferent to scenarios that would likely shake the average man to his core, yet he also seems to
intermittently recount certain situations as deeply troubling. Marlow’s character aptly represents
a disconnected narrator; he has a story to tell that has affected him intensely, though his resulting
disordered state has left him weak and unable to recount the events accurately.
Mr. Kurtz, the abysmal antihero of Heart of Darkness, is a person of minor authority in
the realm of African colonization. Though he is held in high regard by his coworkers,
subordinates, and friends, he has become a vehemently horrifying leader. He runs a remote ivory
trade outpost along the Congo River, and the working conditions have seeped into his mind,
corrupting him his core. His perception of reality has become wildly perverted. Kurtz has
managed to convince the native population around his post that he is some sort of deity. Yet,
even witnesses to his atrocious behavior continue to admire Kurtz as a bright, intelligent, and
wildly persuasive man of high regard. A distinct connection to Marlow lies within these
paradoxes of Kurtz’s character; Kurtz’s enigmatic qualities are reflected by Marlow’s
inconsistent opinion and portrayal of Kurtz. The narrator’s overall outlook may become clearer
upon further investigating the odd relationship that Kurtz and Marlow share.
Marlow first describes Kurtz as “withered; [the wilderness] had taken him, loved him,
embraced him, got into his veins, consumed his flesh, and sealed his soul to its own by . . . some
devilish initiation (Heart 72)”. He is emaciated, sickly, and nearly lifeless. Marlow further
explains Kurtz’s debilitating materialism. Kurtz speaks of, “My Intended, my ivory, my station,
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my river . . . (Heart 73)”, and maintains that everything is in his possession, when in fact he has
been reduced to a vile, bestial man. Kurtz has an unreasonably large stockpile of ivory, his hut is
surrounded by the severed heads of natives, and the natives perceive Kurtz as an object of
adoration (Heart 86). The ivory may be in his custody, the station may be in his charge, and the
natives may be in his service, but nothing truly belongs to him. Kurtz belongs to the material he
so desires. Though Marlow is charged with saving Kurtz’s life, there seems to be a peculiar
desire for Marlow to dominate and destroy Kurtz. While Kurtz secretively writhes through tall,
wet grass toward a wild, eerie native ceremony on the banks of the Congo, Marlow follows him
closely proclaiming, “[I will] deal with this shadow by myself”, an unnerving lust for power
saturating his words (Heart 97-100). Marlow overtakes Kurtz and, after Marlow rationalizes
about how Kurtz should be “dealt with”, Kurtz’s life is spared (Heart 99). Marlow merely states,
“You will be lost . . . utterly lost (Heart 99)”. Marlow then speaks with Kurtz about his lofty
idea of conquest, and though it is clear to both men that Kurtz has failed miserably, Marlow
pledges that “[Kurtz’s] success in Europe is assured in any case (Heart 99)”. From this peculiar
discourse, Marlow says that “the foundations of [my intimate relationship with Kurtz] were
being laid—to endure—to endure—even to the end—even beyond (Heart 99)”. Marlow’s
dreadful, puzzling account of Kurtz is perhaps embellished as a result of Marlow’s traumatic
experience in Africa thus far.
To that end, it seems prudent to explain some potential causes of Marlow’s deep internal
struggle. From the moment Marlow reached Central Africa, he was confronted with his fellow
westerners’ inhumane practices. One of his first recollections is of six African men, shackled
together, clothed only in tattered black rags wrapped around their waists (Heart 22). Marlow
watches closely as the stony eyed prisoners are forced to march in despair by a uniformed man
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with a rifle (Heart 22). Marlow then recalls that the prisoners’ escort is alarmed at seeing a
white man on his path, and only after realizing that Marlow was no one of authority, “[he gave
me] a large, white, rascally grin, and . . . seemed to take me into partnership in his exalted
trust. . . . After all, I also was a part of the great cause of these high and just proceedings (Heart
22)”. Marlow’s retelling of this specific scenario is dripping with cynicism. He knows that the
men in custody are being treated like beasts and perhaps this realized relationship to such
abhorrence sparks a profound inner conflict. It digs a deep chasm in his soul, void of all the
human decency he once knew, and permanently separates his goodness from his immediate
existence.
His internal struggle is compounded by memories of innocent wonder. Marlow
reminisces on his curious nature as a child, gazing at a world map and marveling at the “blank
space on earth” (Heart 10). He recalls promising himself, “When I grow up I will go there”
(Heart 10). With recommendation from his Aunt, Marlow goes to work for a Belgian company
that puts him in charge of his own African riverboat; a job that would not only satiate Marlow’s
desire to set sail, but also allow him an opportunity to explore a land that had fascinated him
since the earliest days of his youth. The debilitating disappointment and horror of the harsh
reality that awaited Marlow in Africa affects him deeply, and this is perhaps why Marlow’s story
is so ambiguous. Marlow is unable to tell a coherent, purposeful story given the intense ethical
conflict that divides his mind and torments his soul. At the beginning of his tale, his current
shipmates say that, though he seemed of a higher class than most lowly seamen, “[they] knew
[they] were fated . . . to hear about one of Marlow’s inconclusive experiences (Heart 8-9)”.
In the Conradiana article entitled “The Horror of Mimesis”, author Nidesh Lawtoo
explores the manifold results of affective mimesis, the psychological confusion between self and
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others, in Conrad’s work (‘Mimesis’ 46-47). When a reader applies this concept to Marlow and
Kurtz, one may form a surprising interpretation of the characters’ relationship. A reader must
keep in mind that Heart of Darkness is being told by a narrator with a horrifying past; a past that
has a very real potential to distort a person’s internal perceptions. In his essay for The
Cambridge Companion to Joseph Conrad, Cedric Watts declares that “Marlow can probably be
trusted most of the time, but . . . he isn’t fully reliable (Cambridge 55)”. Considering Marlow’s
frightful description of Kurtz, perhaps Marlow is projecting some of his own struggles with
morality onto a man who has been defeated by their common foe. Perhaps Kurtz represents the
potential for a dark and horrific future for Marlow, should his own good nature fail entirely.
There is no reason to think that Kurtz is entirely a figment of Marlow’s imagination, but the idea
that Marlow may have embellished Kurtz’s appalling condition as a result of some sort of
affective mimesis can be easily proposed.
On a larger scale, the psychological toll taken on Marlow may represent a vulnerability
that is alarmingly prominent in the west to this day. In today’s western world, wrought with
international conflict and domestic violence of all kinds, the poor souls who bear witness to such
atrocities are most often deeply affected and turned to psychological care as a result. The
diagnosis is almost always the same: post-traumatic stress disorder. With that in mind, one may
be able to link Marlow’s perplexing character to post-traumatic stress disorder. U. S. Army First
Sergeant C. J. Grisham hauntingly describes the internal struggle he feels as a result of his
experiences in Afghanistan as “a million voices in my head telling me that I'm not good enough
to be alive (‘Veterans’ par. 3)”. In the article “Military Deployment, Masculinity, and Trauma:
Reviewing the Connections”, post-traumatic stress disorder is explained more thoroughly, stating
that it “involves more than disruption of one’s identity, but extends to the experience of, and
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assumptions about, the world in which the person lives (‘Military’ 18)”. Marlow explains his
internal perception of western life upon return to Europe with an eerie monologue that nearly
defines post-traumatic stress:
I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through
the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to
gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant silly dreams. They trespassed
upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating
pretence [sic], because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew.
Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about
their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous
flauntings [sic] of folly in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend. (Heart 107)
It seems that Marlow’s perception of reality has become wildly askew, his interpretation of
everyday life has become horribly misaligned, and his sensitivity has been severely damaged.
Every second of his time in Africa is summarized for him in Kurtz’s last words: “The horror!
The horror! (Heart 105)”.
Combined with the notion of affective mimesis, examining a modern account of the
psychological torment one potentially endures as a result of extremely horrific circumstances
may help clarify a key aspect of the social vulnerability represented in Heart of Darkness.
Though seemingly disgusted by Kurtz, Marlow maintains a strange loyalty to him from the very
beginning of their relationship. Kurtz has been defeated in Africa, his soul has been corrupted,
yet Marlow will see to it that Kurtz’s character will not be defamed. Upon Marlow’s return to
London, he speaks with Kurtz’s former friends and loved ones, the most prominent being Kurtz’s
“Intended” (Heart 108-117). Marlow seems to carry out Kurtz’s final affairs as if it was meant
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to be, though Marlow does all of this freely and under no direction. It is this perceived empathy
that Marlow holds for Kurtz that has become a source of intense debate for the critics of Heart of
Darkness.
Jorge Sacido Romero of Spain’s University of Santiago de Compostela claims that
“Marlow’s persistent expression of loyalty [to Kurtz]” and Kurtz’s representation as a lingering
“spectral” character is proof that Conrad “[failed in indicting] imperialist ideology [with Heart of
Darkness] . . . which, in the last instance, amounts to an endorsement (‘Failed Exorcism’ 43)”.
Yet, for all of Romero’s implications of Kurtz’s “ideological function” as a lingering character, it
seems that Romero’s article fails to take into account a vital feature of Heart of Darkness.
Perhaps Kurtz’s puzzling character is preserved throughout the story as a representation of
Marlow’s deep psychological afflictions. Romero seems to take Marlow at his word when
describing Kurtz as disgusting, detestable, and morally destitute. It can be claimed, however,
that no single facet of Heart of Darkness should be taken at face value. In this respect, Cedric
Watts illuminates the notion that Heart of Darkness creates a “critical distance between the
reader and the narrator (Cambridge 55)” that one should always bear in mind. Many of Kurtz’s
atrocious characteristics may have been fabricated or embellished by Marlow as a horrendous
result of Marlow’s post-traumatic mental instability.
In contrast to Romero’s scathing criticism, the Australian Journal of Politics & History’s
article, “The Past in the Present”, acknowledges the narrator’s importance in analyzing Heart of
Darkness. Authors Christine Helliwell and Barry Hindess indicate that westerners have
historically perceived non-westerners as “living in the European past (‘Past’ 377)”; thus,
Marlow’s account of Central Africa as a “prehistoric earth (Heart 52)” and other misguided
statements made by the narrator about Africa and its native peoples may result from a cultural
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