2
The destructive force of English Imperialism is echoed in Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and is revealed to us through Marlow’s portrayal of the Africans he encounters and the treatment they are subject to. Forced to work under the conditions of European mechanical labour, the natives acquired expressions of the “deathlike indifference of unhappy savages” as they became reduced to “nothing but black shadows of disease and starvation”. The “civilised” colonists place the “savages” in chain gangs, enslaving them; eliminating their identities and breaking their spirit as a people. Throughout the entire novel we, the reader do not learn a single of the Africans’ names. They are collectively labelled “niggers”, “creatures”, “rebels”, “savages”, “enemies”, “ants” and “criminals” by the colonisers. Even the individual natives Marlow speaks of remain unnamed, distant and alien. This is exposed through the portrayal of the helmsman; although Marlow shared with him “a kind of partnership”, he is nevertheless reduced and objectified as merely “an instrument”. Conrad discloses the dying identity of the Congo’s indigenous inhabitants through Marlow’s initial observation of the “blind, white flicker … which died out slowly” in their “enormous and vacant” eyes.
3
Friel illustrates Imperialism’s effect on identity unequivocally in his play through the function of Sarah. “My name is Sarah”. Unable to speak her own name previously, Sarah’s identity finally emerges and begins to flower. Language is demonstrated to be the key to memory; identity is formulated through language. Through Sarah’s speech, a hidden landscape of consciousness has been unlocked by Manus, ready to be explored. Sarah’s name is crucial in her self-definition and identity, just as with the names of places; her name encapsulates not only an identity, but also an origin and a lineage. Sarah blurts out “Sarah Johnny Sally” to Owen when asked her name, thus providing not only her Christian name but in addition those of her parents. Owen does not hesitate to reply “Of course! From Bun na hAbhann!” and complete this marker of the clan. He responds furthermore with his own identity, parentage and place of origin: “I’m Owen – Owen Hugh Mor. From Baile Beag.” Irish names in Translations quickly become linked not only with identification of an entity, but also with the narrative history associated with that identity through lineage and society.
While Friel insists that “the play is about language and only language”, the fact that Sarah is silenced again by the colonisers could represent the suppressive and inconsiderate treatment imposed on the Irish people by the English Imperialists, denying them their freedom of expression and thus their right to an identity.
4
Conrad mirrors Sarah’s silence and consequent absence of identity in Heart of Darkness through his creation of Kurtz’s mistress who although described as “superb, wild-eyed and magnificent” in “her deliberate progress”, reveals the suffering she has endured under colonial domination through her visibly “wild sorrow” and “fear of some struggling, half-shaped resolve”. Her “formidable silence” contrasts wholly with Kurtz’s “ability to talk”. As a musician, politician, poet and humanitarian his “inextinguishable gift of noble and lofty expression” is equated with political power, thus giving Kurtz “a sense of real presence” which is evidently lacking amongst the native Africans who have become disassociated from their past, their origins and their control over the future. Their only capability in expressing themselves is through their appearance of “dumb pain”. Exactly like Friel’s natives, the original inhabitants of the Congo are “imprisoned in a linguistic contour which no longer matches the landscape of…fact”.
5
“Constructing maps as innocently mimetic ignores the fact that maps are productions of complex social forces,” states post-colonial critic Simon Ryan. “They create and manipulate reality as much as they record it.” It could therefore be considered that the construction of a “new” map clears the way for the projection and subsequent establishment of a new order, a colonial order. Following this line of thought the map now becomes a manifestation of the desire for control rather than the gathering and recording of natural, geological information. Friel uses Captain Lancey in order to demonstrate the ruthless command of English Imperialism through his threats to “shoot all livestock” and “embark on a series of evictions and levelling of every abode” as punishment for refusing to cooperate and obey. The Captain’s apparent lack of sympathy shown in the text for the Irish residents, and particularly his lack of concern for the consequences his coercion will cause them, leads us to assume that this character would be presented on stage as confident yet insular, egotistical and inconsiderate. If this is the case, the audience could interpret Lancey as a representation of Imperialism since his characterisation epitomises all that Friel disagreed with.
6
Conrad’s creation, Kurtz, draws many parallels with Lancey as symbolic of European colonisation as he too resorts to threatening those who do not immediately obey: “He declared he would shoot me unless I gave him the ivory and then cleared out of the country”. The “harlequin” manager goes on to reason Kurtz’s motivation: “because he could do so, and had the fancy for it, and there was nothing on earth to prevent him killing whom he jolly well pleased.” One could then deduce from this analysis that the authority granted to Kurtz through Imperial rule had corrupted him. The very words: “there was nothing on earth to prevent him” reveal the magnitude of the power he possessed in that he was beyond limitations; “a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear”. Clearly a man without limitations is a danger in itself, as he is in the best position to exploit the power he has, but one with “monstrous passions” has monstrous potential; Kurtz’s extreme Imperialist agenda, “Exterminate all the brutes!” renders him inhumane and therefore savage.
This, in turn, reverses the preconceptualised symbolism of light and dark; Marlow describes the natives of the jungle as possessing “bone, muscle, a wild vitality, an intense energy of movement, that was as natural and true as the surf along their coast”. Despite their initial dark exteriors, inside, the populace of the Congo are vibrant. It could therefore be read that it is the suppression enforced by European ‘civilisation’ that generates the primitive darkness found in both the jungle and within mankind; “the unseen presence of victorious corruption, the darkness of an impenetrable night.”
7
Lancey’s intolerance of other cultures in Translations is made clear in the line: “I do not speak Gaelic, sir.” Not only are we shown that the importance of Irish heritage is considered irrelevant to him through his dismissive attitude, but the reality that the question to which his answer refers was actually posed in Latin, “NONNE LATINE LOQVITVR?” (Does he not speak Latin?), exposes the extent of the Captain’s ignorance. “Do they speak any English, Roland?” Lancey’s total lack of effort in trying to communicate appears to reflect an underlying belief that the English language is vastly superior to the classical dialects. Hugh, however, balances his attachments to his roots with lenience and open-mindedness as he values both past and future: “We must learn these knew names… We must learn where we live.” As an apparent voice of reason, Hugh could be seen as a figure of knowledge symbolised by his understanding of so many different languages, both classical and progressive. The contrasting nature of the two men would then equate Lancey with a representation of ignorance. Ignorance being a lack of knowledge; void of consideration; an emptiness; this characterisation portrays Lancey, like Kurtz, as “hollow at the core”.
8
The change in Kurtz is an important effect of colonisation. During his time in the Congo, Conrad reveals to us that Kurtz was transformed from a man respected for his ability and achievements; “a universal genius”, into a man respected out of fear and notoriety. The driving force behind the viciousness of Kurtz, and colonisation on the whole, is shown to be greed: “’My Intended, my ivory, my station, my river, my –‘ everything belonged to him”. Kurtz has noticeably no control over his all-consuming greed as, without boundaries, there is “nothing on earth” to enforce authority over him. Towards the end of the novella Kurtz is depicted as almost megalomaniacal through his desire “to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him”. He does not hide the truth; that he rules through violence and intimidation, thus reducing the illusions of colonisation to merely “The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves” by means of “forgotten and brutal instincts”.
9
In summation, while Friel’s Translations successfully reveals to the audience that the enforced supremacy of an Imperialist agenda forever alters, in this case literally, the landscape, Conrad too summarises the disillusionment of Imperialism through the death of Kurtz. He entered the jungle with the ideals and altruistic intention of civilising the indigenous peoples, but his last words “The horror! The horror!” express his realisation of the true, tragic nature of Imperialism: “to tear treasure out of the bowels of the land”, “with no more moral purpose at the back it than there is in burglars breaking into a safe.”
