He is not running—indeed he is reputed to be the most efficient and successful station manager in the entirety of the Company. He is renowned and respected by all, and envied by most. This is his greatest power. Left to his own devices in the wilderness, he is able to sway the neighboring natives and the other Europeans, even without direct contact to them. He conveys power, authority, and confidence though he is the weakest of them all. He is highly productive—according to Marlow, “there was not a single tusk left either above or below the ground in the whole country” (121)—but this dramatic output comes at a cost. Kurtz sacrificed his morals, however many he had at some point, and took “a high seat amongst the devils of the land” (122) quite literally, Marlow asserts. He raided villages, put rebel’s heads on sticks around his house, and sent some of his minions to attack the steamboat. It is not that the jungle was any crueler to him than it was to the Russian, though Marlow believes otherwise, but “that there was something wanting in [Kurtz]” (133), some missing or defunct barrier that normally subdues the impulses of violence and greed. Whereas the Russian has his flame to tie him to the Earth, Kurtz is hollow. Marlow states that due to Kurtz’s isolation, his soul had looked within, and subsequently went mad. Marlow “saw the inconceivable mystery of a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear, yet [was] struggling blindly with itself” (144). Kurtz saw and knew who he was. He had several moments of clarity as relayed by both the Russian and Marlow—moments in which he consented to leave the Inner Station behind—but then the lure of the jungle, of lawlessness, of his significantly corrupt and black heart drew him under
He is not running—indeed he is reputed to be the most efficient and successful station manager in the entirety of the Company. He is renowned and respected by all, and envied by most. This is his greatest power. Left to his own devices in the wilderness, he is able to sway the neighboring natives and the other Europeans, even without direct contact to them. He conveys power, authority, and confidence though he is the weakest of them all. He is highly productive—according to Marlow, “there was not a single tusk left either above or below the ground in the whole country” (121)—but this dramatic output comes at a cost. Kurtz sacrificed his morals, however many he had at some point, and took “a high seat amongst the devils of the land” (122) quite literally, Marlow asserts. He raided villages, put rebel’s heads on sticks around his house, and sent some of his minions to attack the steamboat. It is not that the jungle was any crueler to him than it was to the Russian, though Marlow believes otherwise, but “that there was something wanting in [Kurtz]” (133), some missing or defunct barrier that normally subdues the impulses of violence and greed. Whereas the Russian has his flame to tie him to the Earth, Kurtz is hollow. Marlow states that due to Kurtz’s isolation, his soul had looked within, and subsequently went mad. Marlow “saw the inconceivable mystery of a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear, yet [was] struggling blindly with itself” (144). Kurtz saw and knew who he was. He had several moments of clarity as relayed by both the Russian and Marlow—moments in which he consented to leave the Inner Station behind—but then the lure of the jungle, of lawlessness, of his significantly corrupt and black heart drew him under