Quest of the Spirit: From Suffering to Acceptance

96. A Disarming Truth:Conrad's Outcast of the Islands

                                   Conrad's Outcast of the Islands: Primitivism and Moral Decline

         In Joseph Conrad's Outcast of the Islands, the author uses the concept of primitivism to trace the tragic decline and fall of hero Peter Willems. The plot details the main character's moral and spiritual transformation from ignorance to awareness. From the story's inception, Willems lives in a world of delusions. He initially believes that he can step out the world of honesty and return unscathed and unaffected. In the words of the author: "He had stepped off the path of honesty, as he understood it, but he would soon regain it, never to leave it anymore! It was a very small matter. He would soon put it right again. Meantime his duty was not to be found out, and he trusted in his skill, in his luck, in his well-established reputation that would disarm suspicion if anybody dared to suspect. But nobody would dare! But he judged himself with the indulgence that should be extended to the weaknesses of genius" (Conrad 12). He fails to realize the moral significance of his actions and believes that his indispensable position as provider for the Da Souza family proves his moral superiority, without which his "providential" support, they would ultimately perish. The hero subsequently learns otherwise when he is fired and condemned by the entire family for embezzling money from the Hudig & Company, his father-in-law's company. Even then, he only senses "a slight deterioration" in his moral stature. The hero's hubris blinds him to any possibility of discovery, or that his influential position for Hudig & Co. is the result of factors other than his own ingenuity, when in reality he subsequently learns that his success is largely attributable to his marriage to the boss' daughter rather than his own genius. Furthermore, the protagonist feels himself superior in refinement and culture to the primitive natives of Macassar; however, his falling irretrievably in love with the daughter of one of their former tribal chiefs soon dispels this notion as well. Conrad uses the concept of primitivism in these instances to show that Willems' subconscious nature, as with all people, overshadows his idea of order and sophistication. In other words, just as Kurtz and other Conrad heroes, Willems ventures into the dark recesses of a primitive society, where he learns that the dark, instinctual impulses in the human unconscious govern the behavior of all human life, impulses which man cleverly conceals under the cloak of civilization and its amenities.

             Conrad also uses nature imagery to reinforce the concept of primitivism and man's spiritual estrangement. He attributes this moral decadence in men like Willems to the greed for power that blinds one to any degree of respect for the awe and majesty of nature. In this context, imperialistic man isolates himself from the primal forces which governed the behavior of early societies. When explorers abandoned the beauty and worth of the earth's natural resources in favor of its exploitation for profit, they also separated themselves from the eternal truths inherent in a pure relationship between man and nature, such as respect, gratitude, and trust. In this context, Willems symbolizes an existential Adam lost in his own Garden, an anti-hero attempting to capitalize upon the resources from what was originally intended as his spiritual home. This disparity in Willems' heart and mind is evident in the contrast between Willems' lifestyle and that of the natives, a disparity that creates an internal tension which he fails, or refuses, to recognize. The author extols the mystery of nature in its pristine charm by saying it is "like a beautiful and unscrupulous woman, the sea of the past was glorious in its smiles, irresistible in its anger, capricious, enticing, illogical, irresponsible; a thing to love, a thing to fear." When the entrepreneurs came, however, the simile of the beautiful woman changes to one of destruction, as the "hand of the engineer tore down the veil of the terrible beauty in order that greedy and faithless landlubbers might pocket dividends." Sadly, the imperialistic view typifies Willems' behavior. He views the sea solely as a source of income, not as a primal symbol for the source of life, hope, and being. Conrad laments this sense of loss when he says, "Like all mysteries, it lived in the hearts of its worshipers. The hearts changed; the men changed. The once loving and devoted servants went out armed with fire and iron, and conquering the fear of their own hearts became a calculating crowd of cold and exacting masters. The sea of the past was an incomparably beautiful mistress, with inscrutable face, with cruel and promising eyes, The sea of today is a used-up drudge, wrinkled and defaced by the churned-up wakes of brutal propellers, robbed of the enslaving charm of its vastness, stripped of its beauty, of its mystery and of its promise" (12-13).

             Interestingly, Leo Tolstoy makes a similar contrast in Nature and man in the opening lines of Resurrection (Doubleday New York), when he says, "The sun shone warm, the air was balmy; everywhere, where it did not get scraped away, the grass revived and sprang up between the paving stones as well as on the narrow strips of lawn of the boulevards. The birches, the poplars, and the wild cherry unfolded their gummy and fragrant leaves; the limes were expanding their opening buds; crows, sparrows, and pigeons, filled with the joy of spring, were getting their nest ready; the flies were buzzing along the walls, warmed by the sunshine. All were glad, the plants, the birds, the insects, and the children. But men, grown-up men and women, did not leave off cheating and tormenting themselves and each other. It was not this spring morning men thought sacred and worthy of consideration, not the beauty of God's world, given for a joy to all creatures, this beauty which inclines the heart to peace., to harmony, and to love, but only their own devices for enslaving one another" (Tolstoy 12).

            In Conrad's Outcast of the Islands, the hero's quest for truth and justice equally plays an ironic role. It is not enough to say that there is no justice in the world. In fact, it is not enough to say even that man would recognize justice if he actually saw it. Man only perceives glimpses of truth and justice that quickly vanish like the vapor rising from the sea. Neither is it not man's place to execute justice; that role belongs to Fate or Providence alone, and in such cases, man can lonely accept its decree stoically and reverently. The sadness of loss and betrayal overwhelms protagonist Willems, Aissa, and Lingard, as well as Joanna, Willem's wife, and the cynical Almayer. Despite the nobility of their efforts, the cruel hand of fate and their own inabilities thwarts their intentions and mars their spirits. In his blindness, Willems seeks popularity and wealth, but fails to recognize his inability to achieve these goals. Yet, what in man predisposes him toward these delusions? If people are destined to repeat the errors of the past, what proclivity underlies this cyclical failure? What distinguishes Willems from Lingard or Almayer? One man succeeds, and another fails. Conrad suggests that justice, as well as love and spiritual fulfillment, is none-existent. These virtues only exist in the mind, as does Plato's ideal world. Sadly and ironically, the absence of these qualities in reality leaves man hopelessly blind, alone, and lost in an uncaring universe. In Aissa's case, what prompts one person to trust another but his faith in the goodness of man? Just as Aissa and Joanna trust Willems as a husband and partner, so does Lingard trust him as a friend and protege.

                                               Works Cited for Conrad's Outcast of the Islands

Conrad, Joseph. An Outcast of the Islands. New York: Airmont Publishing Company, Inc., 1966. 

Tolstoy, Leo. Resurrection. New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., no date provided.