3.5

“I think [the wilderness] had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude - and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core.”

Heart of Darkness is as easy to read as it is easy for me to rate it. (That is, not easy at all.) It is the classic example of a work that makes me ask myself what it is I'm rating when I rate my books: simply how much I enjoyed them? The ideas they pivot on? Or is my focus the awe they inspire in me? There are cases where I love the writing and not the story, the story and not writing, the principles at the core of the story and nothing else. How should one behave then?

This is exactly the problem I have with Heart of Darkness. Joseph Conrad is a master of English prose, and his words are indeed hypnotizing, some more than others. And yet, as much as I love it, I must also acknowledge that the writing was what posed me the greatest difficulty in reading this. It's normal for the paragraphs to be one page long, and losing the thread is all too easy. The fact that there is hardly a plot does not help in making it appealing to the casual reader.

So, no, I wouldn't recommend it as a book to read for pleasure; but I was utterly fascinated by its conceptuality, by the forest, by hollow-man Kurtz. Heart of Darkness is a book I would love to study, but not one I'd reread over and over again like I would a favourite.

“And this also," said Marlow suddenly, "has been one of the dark places of the earth.”

A nice parody of the classic film Apocalypse Now.

"I shocked him excessively by laughing. Rebels! What was the next definition I was to hear?" Europeans operating at the centre of empire—the heart of darkness—understood the horror of their enterprise. They latched onto any euphemism to absolve their guilt. Yet at death, they judged themselves accurately—they were participants in a barbarous and uncivilised machine. However, the benefactors of empire, often those once removed from the horror, wholeheartedly believed in its goodness. They believed any utterance confirming this worldview—even if it were a lie. They were complicit. Joseph Conrad captures these truths poignantly in this book.

Joseph Conrad seems to have known every nook and cranny of human soul… And this priceless knowledge made him one of the greatest innovators… And Heart of Darkness is simultaneously a polestar and milestone in the world literature.

But as I stood on this hillside, I foresaw that in the blinding sunshine of that land I would become acquainted with a flabby, pretending, weak-eyed devil of a rapacious and pitiless folly. How insidious he could be, too, I was only to find out several months later and a thousand miles farther.

Darkness hates all the trespassers…

The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return. We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness.

Darkness in the novel isn’t just the darkness of night and of animal instincts but it slowly becomes a symbol of the human nature itself…
Wash away the varnish of civilizing gloss off man and the darkness of heart will be revealed…

The vision seemed to enter the house with me – the stretcher, the phantom-bearers, the wild crowd of obedient worshippers, the gloom of the forests, the glitter of the reach between the murky bends, the beat of the drum, regular and muffled like the beating of a heart – the heart of a conquering darkness. It was a moment of triumph for the wilderness, an invading and vengeful rush which, it seemed to me, I would have to keep back alone for the salvation of another soul.

Darkness mercilessly destroys those who penetrate into its heart.

Overall this was a good story. I have seen Francis Ford Coppola's 'Apocalypse Now' and the film follow's the book closely. The story begins with the main character, Marlowe, telling a story to his fellow companions. They are on a boat on the Thames waiting for the tide and he begins the story. Marlowe recounts how he took a job to go up the river and bring back a man named Kurtz, who was the manager of the Inner Station. But The Company is concerned Kurtz has gone insane and has begun operating on his own program. They have lost communication with the Inner Station and are getting reports of savagery up the far end of the river. The readers don't know why but he has become dangerous and a liability to The Company. Marlowe's narration of the river is almost spot on with Martin Sheen's gloomy narration from the movie.

"Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, the vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings.", pg. 38

"The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return.", pg. 40

'Exterminate the brutes.', pg. 57

And the outside Stranger, the one who worships Kurtz because he rambles things like "he's a genius" and "You don't talk with that Man—you listen", and "This man has enlarged my mind."

The book reflects European colonialism and stripping the land of resources (in this case ivory) in Africa during the 1800s. There is dehumanized labor, lack of human connection with the characters (there's no names—only references like the Russian, the Manager, the Accountant, The Company, the savages, etc.), and the uncertainty going up the river. Overall this was a decent story. The first-person narration can be hard to follow sometimes and felt like Marlow was rambling. I plan to read this again because I'm sure there is a lot I missed. Thanks!

Is Joseph Conrad a racist?

Well, that is a question, a question that is extremely difficult to answer. There are certainly racist aspects within Heart of Darkness. However, how far this is Conrad’s own personal opinion is near impossible to tell. Certainly, Marlowe, the protagonist and narrator, has some rather patronising notions as to how the Africans should be treated, and the image of the colonised is one of repression and servitude, but does this reflect Conrad’s own opinions? How far can we suggest that a fictional character embodies the author’s own notions of the world?

Marlowe could just be the embodiment of an ignorant Westerner with a misguided superiority complex. Conrad could have purposely written him this way to suggest how damaging the Westerner’s point of view was. There is also the consideration that the colonised doesn’t really have an intelligible voice through the entire novel, though, it must be noted, that the whole novel is technically a white man’s monologue; it is all reported speech rather than direct speech. So, everything Marlowe says could be bias; it could be slightly twisted with his perspective. Is this the intended effect? I don’t think anybody can say conclusively. Nor can anybody fully argue who Marlowe represents. I cannot personally tell whether he is an accidental suggestion of Conrad or a deliberate attempt to satirise the Western man. Convincing, and inconclusive, arguments can be made in either direction. This text is incredibly dense with conflicting interpretations. It’s hard to know what to make of it.

Well for all the difficulties with the racism angle, one thing is undeniable: Conrad does provide a harsh critique for colonialism. That cannot be ignored. Firstly, it can be seen as detrimental to the colonised. The Westerners exploit the tribes for their ivory and ship it back home. They take the wealth of the tribe folk, rouse their wrath and cause war between neighbouring villages. All in all, they shape the culture of the colonised; they destroy it. It provides an image of a society totally obsessed with monetary wealth, and how much they can gain through the evils of Imperialism. Secondly, it can be seen as detrimental to the coloniser. Kurtz enters the heart of the jungle and becomes completely corrupted. This suggests that the so called “savagery” of the tribe folk can set of the white man’s similar innate response; he can be altered and twisted into a lesser form. Conrad suggests that Kurtz becomes ruined as a result. But, this ruination could be attributed to the evils of colonisation rather than the black man’s influence. If both cultures can become ruined, then it can be read as a suggestion that colonisation is detrimental to all.

“They were no colonists; their administration was merely a squeeze, and nothing more, I suspect. They were conquerors, and for that you want only brute force - nothing to boast of, when you have it, since your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others. They grabbed what they could get for the sake of what was to be got.”

So, Colonisation is bad. But, does this mean Conrad can no longer be considered a racist? If he wants to get rid of servitude and pull the white man out of the jungle, does this mean that this display of liberty ignores the difference between skin colours? No it doesn’t. Marlowe makes explicit reference to the “differences” between the white man and the black man. He doesn’t do this violently or purposely to offend; he does it in a patronising manner. He views the black man as a little brother, someone to be taught and led around. An educated black man then becomes whiter; he stands apart from his brethren. Indeed, the passage I’m about to quote is one that is used time and time again to suggest that Conrad is racist. Granted, the paragraph is terribly racist; it is patronising, offensive and vulgar. But, is this Conrad’s opinion? I recognise that this is a long quote, but the whole thing is needed to demonstrate what I’ve been trying to say:

“A slight clinking behind me made me turn my head. Six black men advanced in a file, toiling up the path. They walked erect and slow, balancing small baskets full of earth on their heads, and the clink kept time with their footsteps. Black rags were wound round their loins, and the short ends behind waggled to and fro like tails. I could see every rib, the joints of their limbs were like knots in a rope; each had an iron collar on his neck, and all were connected together with a chain whose bights swung between them, rhythmically clinking. Another report from the cliff made me think suddenly of that ship of war I had seen firing into a continent. It was the same kind of ominous voice; but these men could by no stretch of imagination be called enemies. They were called criminals, and the outraged law, like the bursting shells, had come to them, an insoluble mystery from the sea. All their meagre breasts panted together, the violently dilated nostrils quivered, the eyes stared stonily uphill. They passed me within six inches, without a glance, with that complete, deathlike indifference of unhappy savages. Behind this raw matter one of the reclaimed, the product of the new forces at work, strolled despondently, carrying a rifle by its middle. He had a uniform jacket with one button off, and seeing a white man on the path, hoisted his weapon to his shoulder with alacrity. This was simple prudence, white men being so much alike at a distance that he could not tell who I might be. He was speedily reassured, and with a large, white, rascally grin, and a glance at his charge, 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.”


The black man has been given animalistic traits. Marlowe describes them as having tails and remarks on their bodies in a way that suggests that they are beasts; they are mere tools for work in which the effectiveness of their body is their stock and trade. It’s all they have to go on: their ability to produce effective labour. Marlowe is repulsed by this idea; he recognises the absurdity of treating men like this, men who are apparently criminals. This is a criticism of Colonialism; it is a criticism of treating men this way. But, he, personally, describes them as savage; he, personally, suggests that their overseer, a black man who is employed by the Coloniser, is less black. Because he is guarding his fellow black man, he is now, according to Marlowe, whiter. This is blatant evidence that Marlowe (not Conrad) views the black man in a patronising manner. He opposes Colonialism, but he still views the black man as less than him.

Chinua Achebe takes this as direct evidence of Conrad’s own opinion. In his renowned essay, an image of Africa, he refers to Conrad as a “bloody racist.” He recognises that Marlowe may be a fictional creation, rather than an embodiment of Conrad’s own voice. But, he suggests that because Conrad didn’t condemn such racist remarks, they must therefore be approved by him. Achebe then went on to write a version of Heart of Darkness (Things fall Apart) from the black man’s perspective. I’ll be reviewing this soon in consideration with what I’m talking about here, but I think Achebe’s remarks are unfair. The evidence he provides is inconclusive. Conrad doesn’t condemn the racist remarks because he didn’t need to. If you view Marlowe as a purposeful creation of the Western man’s prejudice, then it would be awkward to condemn the prejudice. The ironic creation of such a character would achieve this without having to directly say it; it would be implied.

I’m unsure whether Conrad was a racist or not. There is not enough strong evidence to prove or disprove such an argument within the text. But, condemning him for being a racist is a little harsh; yes, racism is terrible, I’m not saying that. However, Conrad wrote at the end of the Victorian period. Whatever you may think about his possible viewpoints, to judge him by today’s standers is flawed. If you judge him by today’s rising liberal opinion regarding race, then you can systematically extend the same judgement to pretty much every author of the period and the periods that came before it. Half the English canon was probably racist. The Victorians, as a society, were racist. So was most of Western society for centuries. It’s how they saw the world; it’s how their society saw the world. This is, of course, a terrible thing. But it was the norm. If you dismiss Conrad based upon this, then you can dismiss many, many other authors too. So, for Joseph Conrad, who may or may not be racist, to condemn Imperialism and Colonialization is kind of a big step.

He is arguing against his entire government; he is suggesting that it is evil and corrupt. This is forward thinking stuff. It may sound simple by today’s standard, but this was the entire Western way of life. They cruelly, and systematically, built their wealth one of the most horrible situations in human history. For Conrad to point this out is almost revolutionary. I enjoyed reading his critique on it; I enjoyed the irony and how he suggests the evil of such a regime. But, regardless of this, I could never rate this book five stars. It is written phenomenally; it is bursting with literary merit; it is wonderfully interesting to read. Some of the prose is just beautiful. However, I will always see the unattributed whispers of racism in this work; I will always be aware of the possibility that it belongs to the author, and I cannot ignore that.

When I decided to do a classic a month this year, I hoped the classics would live up to their status as timeless, admirable, and excellent works of art, but was ambivalent that this would be so. I figured I'd get some good, some not-so-good. Thus far this year though, I have had all gems, books I loved and am thankful to have read. Well, my run of luck ran out with September's selection. UGH!!

Joseph Conrad's The Heart of Darkness is considered by many to be his greatest work. I had read that before choosing the book. I wish I'd also read the assessment of Nigerian novelist Chinua Achebe. He described The Heart of Darkness "as "an offensive and deplorable book" that de-humanised Africans. That is putting it lightly. I realise that attitudes and society were much different in the 1800s when this book was written and so I tried to be lenient. However, racism is not deserving of leniency. It is despicable in any time and place and I found this book to be disgusting, hateful and vile. It is fit for the rubbish bin. It does not deserve its place as a classic, but as representing a huge chunk of history white people should be most ashamed of.

I recommend this piece of shit to no one. It has not one redeeming quality. It is boring as well as hateful.


(September 2019 classic of the month)

You travel to the heart of darkness only to find the darkness of your heart.

'Heart of Darkness' is a story about the fraility of the human nature. When you are far away from 'the civilized' world, are not a man of principles, are greedy, have the unlimited power, you are in great danger of becoming a crazy monster. And then being in the heart of darkness you find the darkness of your heart.

'It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.'
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'I don’t like work--no man does--but I like what is in the work--the chance to find yourself. Your own reality--for yourself not for others--what no other man can ever know. They can only see the mere show, and never can tell what it really means.'
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'You know I hate, detest, and can’t bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appalls me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies - which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world - what I want to forget.'
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'Even extreme grief may ultimately vent itself in violence--but more generally takes the form of apathy'
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'Your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others.'
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'Droll thing life is -- that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself -- that comes too late -- a crop of inextinguishable regrets.'
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'The mind of man is capable of anything.'
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'But his soul was mad. Being alone in the wilderness, it had looked within itself and, by heavens I tell you, it had gone mad.'
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'I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary.'

It doesn't get much grimmer than this.



In the late 1800s, Charles Marlow is appointed as a captain of a river steamboat for an ivory trading company in Africa. He travels up the Congo river toward his appointment with the steamboat and with fate, in the form of Kurtz, the megalomaniac manager of an ivory trading station two hundred miles up the river.

But the wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance for the fantastic invasion. I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude—and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core.

Joseph Conrad explores the darkness in men's hearts in every way feasible in little over a hundred pages, illustrating it with various symbols: the heart-shaped Africa, with the snake-like Congo writhing its way into the heart; the greed for ivory that motivates the employees of the trading company, exposing their dark sides; the looming, brooding jungle; the dark, oppressed natives; the European men (who are as dark spiritually as the Africans they heartlessly take advantage of are physically); the "whited sepulchre" of Brussels, Belgium (whitewashed on the outside but filled with decay and corruption on the inside).

No one is exempt from the horror that Kurtz sees in his final moments, except perhaps his intended bride, but only because she's suffering under delusions about Kurtz's goodness and honor. The conversation between Marlow and this woman is one of the darkly (of course) humorous parts of this tale, with a double meaning in almost everything Marlow says to her:

'You knew him well,' she murmured, after a moment of mourning silence.

"'Intimacy grows quick out there,' I said. 'I knew him as well as it is possible for one man to know another.'

"'And you admired him,' she said. 'It was impossible to know him and not to admire him. Was it?'

"'He was a remarkable man,' I said, unsteadily. Then before the appealing fixity of her gaze, that seemed to watch for more words on my lips, I went on, 'It was impossible not to—'

"'Love him,' she finished eagerly, silencing me into an appalled dumbness.

I found Heart of Darkness hard to wade through in college, despite its short length. It was a lot better this time around: I appreciated Conrad's writing, the way he layered descriptions and symbols until the gloom and horror of it all close in around you. On the con side, it does start to feel repetitive, and most of the characters other than Kurtz and Marlow remain rather flat symbols--especially the Africans and the few women characters, though I liked the two women knitting their black wool who were cast as the Fates. And I cut Conrad some slack here, given that this was written over 100 years ago. He's more open and fair-minded than most of his Victorian-era contemporaries. I'm not much on the unrelievedly cynical and gloomy worldview displayed by this story, but as a work of literature it's an amazing achievement.

It wasn't really enjoyable reading for me per se, but it was absorbing, and it's made a permanent impression on me.

HEART OF HORROR



Conrad arrivò nel Congo nel 1890 come tanti altri europei alla ricerca di un lavoro, di un’occasione di crescita economica e professionale, attratto dalle panzane che il re del Belgio, Leopoldo II, era riuscito a spacciare per verità, e cioè che in quella (immensa) parte dell’Africa i bianchi stessero cercando di contrastare e arrestare il commercio degli schiavi condotto dagli “arabi”.



Conrad voleva diventare capitano di marina e sperava che l’esperienza africana avrebbe comportato anche il raggiungimento di quel grado militare.

Si trovò davanti una realtà ben diversa da quella che si aspettava: i bianchi in Congo era schiavisti come e più degli “arabi” – ignoravano il rispetto dei più elementari diritti umani – trattavano i locali come materia prima, forza lavoro, bestie da soma – erano crudeli, rapaci, volgari, prepotenti, accecati dal loro potere, violenti, stupratori, assassini, torturatori.


Immagini di ragazzini congolesi mutilati per non aver raccolto la quota stabilita di gomma durante il regime di Leopoldo II.

In realtà erano molto di più, erano autentici genocidari: si calcola che tra il 1890 e il 1905, sempre sotto il dominio belga, la popolazione del Congo si sia ridotta di circa 8/10 milioni di persone. Tutte morte: in nome della “civiltà”, della conquista – tutte morte in nome dell’avorio e della gomma.

Conrad rimase colpito e stordito, e da qui è nato questo magnifico libro, probabilmente il romanzo breve in lingua inglese più tradotto e ristampato.



Marlow è l’alter ego dello stesso Conrad che risalì il fiume Congo – e Kurtz impersona alcuni dei peggiori servitori del Belgio, non necessariamente nati in quel paese, tutti passati alla storia per la crudeltà e il numero di morti (tale Léon Rom usava adornare il suo giardino con le teste degli africani decapitati per punizione conficcate in paletti proprio come nel libro fa Kurtz).
Cuore di tenebra è prima di tutto questo: un atto d’accusa del genocidio che i belgi hanno commesso in Congo.
Poi, col tempo, è diventato un inno contro la violenza umana in generale, contro l’imperialismo (vedi l’interpretazione datane da Coppola in “Apocalypse Now”).




Ma Conrad all’imperialismo credeva, purché di marca britannica, fino al punto di investire i suoi risparmi in una miniera d’oro vicino a Johannesburg (quindi, sotto controllo inglese – l’imperialismo inglese andava benissimo, era sinonimo di civiltà e progresso).
In fondo in queste pagine i personaggi di colore non fanno una gran figura, più che parlare, cantano, grugniscono, emettono suoni.
In fondo il razzismo vittoriano (quindi di stampo inglese) in queste pagine si sente eccome.



Kurtz è un magnifico villain: non è solo un assassino e torturatore, ma anche un intellettuale che si diletta di pittura, di poesia, di giornalismo, di teoria e pensiero (Sterminate tutti questi bruti!), confermando con penna e inchiostro la conquista compiuta con fucile e mitragliatore.

Conrad's Heart of Darkness seems to me to be the book more than any other that been analysed and raked through with the finest of tooth-combs by readers, writers, scholars and the like for many a year. And I admit, once experienced, it is hard to let it go. Having said that, I personally think it's over-hyped, and far from being a masterpiece, but can I understand why there are many that deem it is. And it doesn't surprise me that Heart of Darkness continues to cast such a fiendish spell on everyone who reads it. Full of digression, observation, and psychological reflection, Conrad's writing is dense and layered with symbolism, with dark and complex themes that builds an impressive sense of dread, while at the same time offering a searing critique of imperialism at a time when the expansion of the British Empire and the exploitation of Africa by European powers was glorified as bringing the light to the uncivilized world. The book as a whole felt like one of those ominous rain clouds hovering thunderously above a summer's day. Heart of Darkness still threatens, and still retains its power after more than one-hundred years, so I certainly respect the book for what it did for modern fiction, but I still much prefer Conrad's 'Nostromo' and 'Under Western Eyes' to this. I was expecting one of the all time greats here, after countless many telling me I simply had to read it. It's a good book yes, but I was still left disappointed.

«Φρίκη, φρίκη »
«Εξολοθρεύσατε όλα τα κτήνη!»

Στην καρδιά του σκότους και στον αφηγητή της (Μάρλοου),το νόημα της ιστορίας δεν βρίσκεται σε καμία περίπτωση μέσα στον πυρήνα της,αλλά απ’έξω, «θαρρείς και το νόημα περιβάλει την ιστορία...».

Αυτό το βιβλίο είναι μια ασύλληπτη τελετουργία, μια δαιμονική πνευματικά μύηση, μια καταληψία.

Η καρδιά του σκότους μπορεί να έχει πολλές ερμηνείες και είναι πολύ φυσικό αφού βρίθει εικόνων και συναισθημάτων.

Όλη η ουσία του βιβλίου επικεντρώνεται στην εμπειρία ενός ναυτικού (Μάρλοου)που συνειδητά επιλέγει να ταξιδέψει στην Αφρική -καταλήγοντας στην καρδιά του σκότους- ενώ συνήθως ταξίδευε στην Ανατολή.

Έτσι ξεκινάει το ταξίδι του Μάρλοου προς το Κονγκό και γίνεται τόσο τραυματικό και φοβερό που μπορεί να θεωρηθεί το πέρασμα του προς την ωριμότητα.

Η αφήγηση του είναι ένα γλαφυρό ονειροπόλημα με πολλούς αναχρονισμούς και αναμνήσεις.
Καθισμένος μέσα στο αγκυροβολημένο σκάφος Νέλλη στις εκβολές του Τάμεση συναντάει το παρελθόν του και το είναι του στην αφρικανική εμπειρία με σκοπό να γνωρίσει τον κ. Κούρτς,τον ηγέτη όλων των συμβολισμών...

Η ονειροπόληση του Μάρλοου είναι μια συνταρακτική αίσθηση για τον αναγνώστη. Ισορροπεί ανάμεσα στο αισθητικό και το επιστημονικό. Το απαλό όνειρο και την καυστική ειρωνεία. Τα συμβολικά γεγονότα και το αιχμηρό συναίσθημα του παραλόγου που καταλήγει μακάβριο και φρικιαστικό.

Φτάνοντας στην Αφρική και πριν ακόμα συναντήσει τη «μορφή» (κ. Κούρτς) έχει κάνει μια κανονική κατάβαση στην άβυσσο.


Εδώ αρχίζει ο Άδης της αποικιοκρατίας.
Μια κόλαση απο βασανισμένα κορμιά,σακατεμένα απο την πείνα και τη δυσεντερία. Τρυπημένα απο σφαίρες ή λόγχες,αλυσοδεμένα και δαρμένα αλύπητα.
Αποκεφαλισμένα σώματα ιθαγενών,θυσιασμένα στο βωμό κάποιων ακατονόμαστων λειτουργιών. Εξυπηρετούν βεβαίως τη φρικαλεότητα των αποικιοκρατών στο Κονγκό.

Κάπου εδώ μπαίνουμε στην σκληρή κοινωνία των αποίκων και την άσπονδη εκμετάλλευση των μαύρων με τόσο μακάβριες λεπτομέρειες που ο αναγνώστης σίγουρα σφίγγει τα χείλη να μην βγάλει και την ψυχή του μαζί με τον αναστεναγμό οργής και θλίψης.

Προχωράμε μέσα στην πυκνή ζούγκλα των μαύρων δαιμόνων που φοβούνται και επιτίθενται.
Η άβυσσος είναι το πολύ σκοτάδι, το απόλυτο σκοτάδι που κάνει τη διαφορά ανάμεσα στους αποίκους και την κερδοσκοπική τους λεηλασία και σε αυτούς που υπομένουν τα πάνδεινα για την τιμή του ελεφαντόδοντου.

Αιώνες απάτης και φθοράς ανάμεσα στους «πολιτισμένους» και τους «πρωτόγονους».
Το χάσμα των υποταγμένων, η φυλετική ανωτερότητα και η γεύση του θανάτου: ΕΞΟΛΟΘΡΕΥΣΑΤΕ ΟΛΑ ΤΑ ΚΤΗΝΗ. Η τελική λύση..!

Ευτυχισμένοι οι άνθρωποι που ψάχνουν την αλήθεια τους και δεν τη βρίσκουν ή την κρατάνε για τον εαυτό τους.
Η καρδιά του σκότους είναι μια εναλλαγή ανάμεσα στο φως και το σκοτάδι, το καλό και το κακό,την άγνοια και τη γνώση,το πνεύμα και το σκοταδισμό, τον Άνθρωπο και το Κτήνος που θεωρείται ανώτερο λόγω φυλής και χρώματος αλλά δεν το αντέχει.

Σε μια κόλαση γεμάτη «τρελές ψυχές»,οι θεωρητικά ανώτεροι άνθρωποι σε σχέση με τους κατώτερους μαύρους προσκυνητές ματώνουν την πνευματική τους υγεία.
Δεν αντέχουν τη νομοτέλεια της φύσης, τους απογυμνώνει τους πανικοβάλλει. Προτιμούν την ψευδαίσθηση της στεριάς τους και του πολιτισμού τους.

Η Καρδιά του Σκ��τους είναι μια μέθεξη.

Ένα αριστούργημα που πιστεύει στην φαντασία και την πράξη. Που πραγματεύεται-πέρα απο κάθε ματαιότητα που μας περιβάλλει- την ανθρώπινη μοίρα και το φορτίο του καθενός να ανακαλύψει τους στόχους του, να θέσει τους κανόνες για την επιτυχία και να τους ακολουθήσει.


*Συστήνεται με αιρετική επιφύλαξη σε αυστηρούς αναγνώστες χωρίς σκληράδα και σε δαιμονικά δικτυωμένους ονειροπόλους.

ΧΡΟΝΙΑ ΠΟΛΛΑ!

Καλή ανάγνωση!!

Πολλούς ασπασμούς!!