"Conrad-ception" A Story Within a Story Within a Story

Heart of Darkness was written by Joseph Conrad in 1899. It is a short novel that explores the inner workings of humankind through the narrative of a man named Marlow. Marlow recounts his experience sailing on a river in the Congo as an ivory transporter. The Marlow’s experience has incredible depth because Conrad himself actually was a part of a similar operation in his earlier life.
There are many aspects of Conrad’s form that contribute to how this novel can be interpreted. One of the  most influential choices that Conrad made in form was to have the story told by an unidentified narrator who is listening to Marlow tell his tale of long ago. This decision affects how we internalize every page. This creates a “story within a story” and that changes how we view both the story and the character Marlow. We see this story as something that has happened in the past, as something behind us. This distance gives us a level of security. But that security is completely lost  as the story concludes and we are left feeling haunted as we read:

“Marlow ceased, and sat apart, indistinct and silent, in the pose of a meditating Buddha. Nobody moved for a time. ‘We have lost the first of the ebb,’ said the Director, suddenly. I raised my head. The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky-- seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.”

Even though we just spent the whole novel one step away from the darkness, at the end we realize that the darkness might actually be right ahead. That it might actually be inside each of us.
Choosing to have Marlow tell us the tale also affects how we contrast the characters of Marlow and Kurtz. Since we know that Marlow is here with us on the deck and since we are receiving his interpretation of past events, we come to see how he was able to escape from the pull of the darkness. As the story unfolds we witness the unhinging of Kurtz, but we can be partially reassured because we know that Marlow makes it out to tell the tale. Although the darkness is imminent, we like Marlow may be able to overcome.

This “frame narrative” does more than influence our connection with the “darkness” and with the characters. It also teaches us about experiencing isolation. As Marlow tells us this tale we feel this desire within him to make a connection with his fellow sailors. He is sharing a part of himself that affected him so profoundly we feel a brotherhood with him for sharing it with us.  But, we recognize that there will always still exist some level of isolation. That we will never truly know how Marlow feels. As one of my favorite lines from the book says, “Marlow was silent for a while. ... ‘No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence—that which makes its truth, its meaning—its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream—alone....’”

Experiencing literature in this age is still about what literature has always been about. It will always be an attempt at connecting the minds, hearts, and souls of individuals. It will always be directed by the desire to overcome this isolation. THAT is why we have Goodreads, Amazon, and Kindles.

Connecting Through Common Misery

I love to read. But Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad was hard for me to get into. I’m the kind of person that likes to snuggle up on the couch and read for hours. When I tried to do that with this book, I knew immediately that I would fall asleep. I needed to find a way to read the book and actually be interested in it. And so, I decided to do something I had been planning to do for some time. I bought a gym membership. Reading while working out on the elliptical machine has always helped me focus and so I decided to try it out with Heart of Darkness. It worked! I was able to focus on the story and understand what was going on. I discovered a new love for the kindle as well. When you bring a hard copy of a book to the gym you have to hold it open on the treadmill or elliptical, but a kindle is small enough to be set on top of the machine so that you can read hands free.

Reading on an elliptical machine.
Link to: {http://karenrussell.typepad.com/my_lifejust_not_on_the_ro/2009/01/the-little-stuff.html}

Part of the assignment of reading Heart of Darkness was to look up reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. My favorite part of looking up reviews for Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad on Amazon was the titles of the reviews. It was a blast! I found that I empathized so well with the people that hated the book and I respected those that loved the book. Some of the critical review titles actually made me laugh out loud. For example, here are some of my favorites:

"Well, that was depressing."

"Colonial misery, misery, and more misery."

"Classic?"

"The horror and the hope."

The reviews on Goodreads were much the same, but I found one comment on a review particularly helpful. A woman named Charlene wrote –

"In an effort to class up the joint, I listened to this audio book performed by Kenneth Branagh.

I say performed, because it wasn't just a plain reading of the story. He added depth to the observations and took what I might have found to be a boring story and breathed life into it.

I enjoyed this quite a bit and would recommend this audio version to anyone interested in this classic tale."

In all my searching of different editions of Heart of Darkness, I hadn't found an audiobook. Charlene’s comment really made me want to listen to Heart of Darkness rather than read it. We’ve recently been discussing in class the differences in reading something and seeing it performed. Heart of Darkness could be an amazing performance.

Finding the reviews and comments about Heart of Darkness on Amazon and Goodreads helped me to connect with strangers. I could relate to their opinions and I could understand more about the story through their love of the book. Amazon and Goodreads can also lead to new discoveries – like finding out about an audiobook for Heart of Darkness.

On the Same Boat

I wish I had read more of the reviews before diving into “Heart of Darkness,” by  Joseph Conrad.  The novel seemed just seemed too allusive and dark to me. The book definitively is both dark and allusive, but I didn’t completely understand why. I just wasn't connecting with the book. After a few pages in I decided to quickly assess what the book was all about I looked up the plot overview on spark notes, but it didn’t seem to cover what I wanted to know.  

I understood what was being told, but I was curious to know the WHY? Why had the author chose to focus in on this somewhat odd seaman Marlow to write a book about? I would have loved to sit down with Joseph Conrad and ask him personally all my why questions about his sultry novel; however, I came across my own personal gold mine of reviews! 

If I had only read the context of the book before plunging in it would have made so much more sense! I found a review on Amazon that cleared up why Joseph Conrad wrote about Marlow. It is very possible that Joseph Conrad was simply writing about his own endeavors with a few detail changes. He CONNECTED with his own "fictional character." I then found myself reminiscing on the times I had connected with Marlow as well. 

Marlow is compassionate about his profession, and is even willing to put himself in daunting situations to attain his goals. He is not speaking in his native tongue in a job interview, but in French! Although I have no desire to be a seamen I have found myself in various situations just like this. I made the connection! 

I along with many others felt that Conrad's voice was the voice of Marlow, and he was heavily influenced by the racism circulating at that time. 

This blunt racism and even sexism initially made me cringe, but through reading the reviews on goodreads I feel like I have come to better understand who Marlow and Joseph Conrad truly are. 

Again and Again

For the past hour I have sat looking up books and reading summaries of stories that I have previously read. I love books. The ability people have to string letters together, how those letters turn into words and those words create pictures and personalities and places that I have never encountered before. I finally settled on this book, Pictures of Hollis Woods, because it is the first novel I can ever remember reading over and over again. I bought it at the Book Fair sometime in elementary school...maybe third or forth grade. It is the story of a young girl, Hollis, and her struggle growing up in foster care. She is continuously being passed from one family to another. Because of her stubbornness and highly emotional personality, Hollis is often in trouble and taken out of many homes. When she isn't pushed out, she runs. Until she finds her 'family'. They are perfect for her. A mother, father, and son. She fits in the spaces between them as if they were made just for her to fill.

And then she ruins it. Hollis' bold pride drives her and her newfound brother to the top of a hill, then slipping back down leaves him badly injured. So Hollis runs.

Her next home is with Josie, a forgetful and loving old artist. As Hollis realizes that Josie is not fit to be a foster care-taker, but rather needs someone to tend to her needs, Hollis creates a plan to free them both from the system she hates so much.

Although I don't have any experience with foster care, I have my fair share of stubbornness. Of getting myself into trouble because of my unfailing pride. Like Hollis, I get restless when I feel that those I am around don't understand me. I get an itch and I want to run. Although my running days took me to places like the playroom under the stairs or the swing set out back, I was running none the less. 

I read that book again in High School and saw much of myself in the Hollis that wants to care for those around her. She loves the responsibility of caring for Josie. That precious grandmother being entrusted to her care causes Hollis to turn outward. As I gained treasured relationships during those years, I felt as Hollis did and wanted to put their needs first. I learned to live outside myself. 

Again in college I read the familiar story, again connecting to Hollis in all her strength and tenacity. I was turning ever more independent as she is. Hollis and I, we have this tendency to love hard. And be hard to love. But when the love is there, we will never let it go. 

That is the beauty, for me, of a good story. It can be visited time and time again, always with a new lesson to give.

Transforming Before I Fall

As a teenager in high school my life was overcome with my dance schedule practices, workouts, performances, concerts, and competitions. However, as circumstance and time allowed, my sister and I would go to the bookstore closest to our home and select a book we both had interest in reading. We both decided on a book called Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver. Unfortunately, while reading I pulled out similarities between myself and the main character, Samantha Kingston. Her character is selfish and egocentric, and her acts are based on her main motivation to remain popular in her high school. Reading and seeing this fictional character from the outside seemed to show me the semblance I had with her, and I recognized that I was just as self-absorbed as she was but in my own dance realm.

Samantha Kingston dies tragically early on in the book, but then has the opportunity to relive her last day seven times. One of the days she recognizes that she had neglected her family in her climb for high school recognition and devotes that day to building family relationships. With her I decided to strengthen my own family relationships that I had also neglected while attaining the dance recognition I had fought for. Alongside Sam I found myself with my family doing the things we loved to do together again.  

Samantha also undergoes other transformations in her own attitude and personality during the book, and her priorities are renovated into more selfless ambitions. She starts to live for others and less for herself. I am immensely grateful I did not have to die and live the same day multiple times to be able to appreciate the miracle of transforming ourselves and each day coming closer to our divine potential. However like Sam I did have to sacrifice personal desires to become who I needed to be.  I now have each day to grab a hold of and take advantage of to remold and purify myself.

Fortunately I saw my own ambitions and priorities change to be less self-centered and egotistic. Now I can seize each day and become a better daughter, student, and most importantly daughter of God!

A book that is a little more substantial than "Are You My Mother?"

Meet my friend Lily Owens.

(Yes, that is one of those Fanning girls. No, I haven't seen the movie. I would never do that to myself)

I read "The Secret Life of Bees" when I was 15 years old. And I found a kindred spirit in Lily. When I compare myself with Lily I really don't find too many immediate, obvious connections between us. I didn't grow up in the South during a time of intense racial division. My mother didn't die when I was very young. Her father is a broken and cruel while mine leads my family with love and faith. I don't carry around intense feelings of guilt over possibly being the cause of my mother's death. 

And yet, I feel as if I know this girl's heart through and through. 

Lily has this insatiable desire to find a maternal force in her life. She seeks to fill the void that her mother's death has left. Now see, I have my mother. I love my mother. I just sent my mother a text message telling her that I love her. She is my best friend. In fact, sometimes I think that it really wouldn't be THAT bad if I ended up a crazy cat lady in my mom’s basement. But I digress… 

As the book develops Lily experiences this powerful force, this motherly influence as she makes connections with other woman. She finally begins to feel the tenderness, the strength, and the unconditional love of a mother that she has been longing for. But even more than her connections with other women there is a spiritual maternal entity that she reaches for. She desires to connect to a universal mother.

Now don’t worry. I’m not taking this beyond what can be found in the in the Gospel Principles book. I love true, pure doctrine. 

But I think that is what 15 year old Meghan related with.  The words in Eliza R. Snow’s words in the hymn “O, My Father” would run through her head:

“In the heav'ns are parents single?

No, the thought makes reason stare!

Truth is reason; truth eternal

Tells me I've a mother there.”

I've Got Your Back.

  Growing up can be pretty tough. Just ask any five year old.

But it's a little easier when you have a friend alongside you, someone who really cares for you and will always have your back. They too have a back for you to have, or more specifically a spine. A paper spine. Okay, so this friend is technically a book.

But books can be friends too! 

Just ask Matilda Wormwood and she'll tell you exactly what I'm talking about.

To grow up with a friend like Matilda was something special. She was always a little strange, and a bit of a bookworm, often submersing herself into her books just to escape the pains of real life.  For some people that was a problem, and we were made fun of occasionally. I guess people just didn't quite understand us.

But the thing about Matilda that was so special is that she found ways to still make friends and find people who love her for who she truly is. 

And as I grew older, I found a new friend through her, and that was her new adopted mother named Miss Honey. She helped me realize that life doesn't always turn out the way I would think it would, but that doesn't mean it can't still be a beautiful thing.

The companionship of these two showed me that you can't just sit back and let others run your life, no matter how young or old you are.

For a young girl growing up in a world where being a little different is looked down upon and abuse comes in many shapes and forms, these two women were the best friends I could ask for. It was as though Roald Dahl wrote these two to be there for me through all aspects and ages of my life. And when life has too much to bear, I know I'll always have their lives to run back to and feel safe in their world again.

Sometimes I'm nerdy. Sometimes I'm shy. Sometimes life is hard.

But you know what?

They taught me that's okay.

The Sullivan Rainbabies

There are few more cherished memories in my heart than those of my mother reading to my siblings and me early every evening before bed. In the security of our modest but bright bedrooms on one of our twin beds, our freshly scrubbed and jammied bodies tightly framed my mother as she read with perfect accents and sound effects to our squeals of delight. Our hands and fingers draped around Mommy, as if simply touching her made the stories more real. It was a scene of affection, closeness and imagination that served as the threshold of my whimsical childhood dreams every night. 

Reflecting on this scene, one children’s book stands out in my mind as accurately encompassing the tender closeness, warmth, and love that I felt as a child: The Rainbabies by Laura Krauss Melmed. In the story, an aged man and wife long together for a child of their own. One night, in the middle of a beautiful moon shower, the couple finds twelve tiny babies, each the size of a finger, hidden in the grass. They rejoice and care for the little babies in the midst of many terrible dangers until a stranger arrives and offers to buy the dozen babies for immeasurable riches. When the couple refuses the offer, the stranger turns into a fairy of sorts and reveals herself as the true mother of the Rainbabies. In return for their integrity and love, she rewards the old couple with a child of their own. 

I distinctly remember staring intently at the beautiful paintings that accompany the tale while listening to my mother’s voice. I physically felt, saw, and heard the principles that provided so much security in my youth and continue to do so today: parents should want their children and parents should love their children. The Rainbabies endures as a symbol of pure, authentic love in my own life, and the little babes themselves in the care of their beloved adoptive parents, clinging to the their hands and safely nuzzled in their arms, linger in my thoughts as the image of my own dear childhood. 

Of Battle School, Buggers, and Bonzo Madrid

I read Ender's Game for the first time when I was only 12 years old. This was, for me, an unusually short book to tackle. When I was 9 I read most of the way into Jurassic Park before my elementary school teacher confiscated it because I was reading too much. I suppose you could say that I was a precocious reader. 

Perhaps that is why I connected in some ways with the character of Andrew Wiggin, also known by the titular nickname of "Ender." Ender had many attributes that I aspired to as a young man. He was intelligent, he was adept at finding creative solutions, he was goodhearted, he was able to defend himself. Ender's experiences in Battle School felt as if they paralleled some struggles in my life dealing with the cruelties of other children. Ender's mind felt like it operated on many of the same principles as mine. 

Ender became a sort of idol to me. He became an example of the kind of person that I want to be, in many ways. As the series progressed into further works, I found myself gravitating towards Ender more and more. Through the novels Speaker for the Dead and Xenocide, which I read some years later, I watched as Ender grew from a young boy into a grown man. I felt as if I was watching a friend grow up alongside me, and eventually surpass me in age. Ender's struggles with his own identity and his past mistakes were a large influence on my teenage years. In many ways, this fictional character served as not only a motivational force, but a guiding one. I still think of Ender as being one of the most important people in my young life, even though he isn't real. 

That's why I consider Orson Scott Card to be one of the best authors I have ever read, and why I esteem him to be the author I'd most want to write like. 

 

-Ender Wiggin

Expecto Patronum!

I have always really enjoyed reading, but it wasn’t until I read the Harry Potter series in 4^th grade that I became a literary freak.  By the time I started reading the series, a few of the movies had already be released, which sparked my general interest in the series.  I attended a very small elementary school, and soon my group of friends became interested in the series as well.  All of our play-dates and creative projects revolved around Harry Potter in some form or another.  I have very vivid memories of sneaking “ingredients” from our parents’ fridges to make “potions,” writing letters that “owls” would take in the middle of the night, shouting spells at one another, and running around our neighborhoods utterly convinced that our homemade broomsticks could actually fly.  Pure imagination fueled by a fantastical story about wizards and magic.

Like any other girl my age, I completely revered Hermione Granger.  She was smart, witty, and fought the “bad guys.”  I also liked that she was described as having curly hair because I was a little self-conscious about my own crazy, wild hair at that age.  Hermione certainly wasn’t without her flaws, though.  She was pretty bossy at times, which I probably picked up on too much.  Just ask my parents…

I know that having a strong, smart, female literary character such as Hermione to look up to in adolescence was so important.  I feel like today I can say that I really learned to love school and books and my curly hair because Hermione Granger taught me that those things are awesome. Hermione also taught me to recognize my flaws. I am certainly not perfect, but no one is.  No one is immune from making mistakes and everyone has insecurities.   

Hermione, in addition to Ron and Harry, also taught me that imagination and creativity are definitely magical.  Even though I obviously couldn’t cast spells, I had the power of imagination, which is innately magical.  Through my power of imagination, I could create my own Hogwarts and fight my own Voldemort.  I feel like I have lost some of that imaginative magic as I have come to come and become “an actual adult.”  It might be about time for me to read the series again and get back some of that magic and pure imagination.

I Owe You, Old Sport

High school English classes are not famous for being beloved by students.  Reading assignments are notoriously despised, and literary analyses are dreaded by most.  I however, ought to thank my sophomore English teacher for introducing me to Mr. Jay Gatsby—a character completely self-centered, superficial, and obsessed.  A character who was me.

At this point of my life, I was thriving.  School was a breeze, I was doing well in my music lessons, I had friends all over, and yet it was not enough.  I saw myself in Gatsby, because he seemed to have the world at his fingers.  The things that he wanted just seemed to fall into place, just as they did for me!  And, like Gatsby, I had a Daisy.

My Daisy was 16-year-old Jake.  He was perfect, and I had pined over him for months like only a teenage girl knows how.  He obviously was a flawed human being, but in my mind, he was perfection in a baseball player’s body.  As I read on in the story, I found that Gatsby used the same ploys to charm Daisy that I did to snag my man.  He threw extravagant parties; I planned games, dance parties, and movie nights at my house each weekend.   He had expensive taste in clothing, and I spent far more on an outfit that I knew Jake would notice.  Gatsby would do anything for his fair Daisy, and I found myself bent over backwards, just trying to make Jake smile.  We were the same, Gatsby and I.  Both clever, both determined, and both blind.

As our English class finished up Gatsby’s story, I was shocked to read about his tragic end, though I shouldn't have been.  After losing Daisy, there was nothing more to him.  She had become his essence.  When that was gone, he had no more purpose in living, and so the story ended.  This was cause for some serious reflection.  Did I base my happiness on what some high school jock thought?  Was I working to improve my life, or just to win his affections?  If things didn’t work with Jake, or even if they did and the chase came to an end, who would I be?  What would I have to show for myself?  So I started to live for different reasons.

Thank you, Mr. Gatsby.  The lack of depth in your character gave me mine.

A Snob with a Knightley Complex

We have all had those times that we have been sitting in fast and testimony meeting and someone starts to cry as they bear their testimony. The voice starts out normal and then the rollercoaster begins. High and low. Wobbly. Sob. So spiritual, right? Wrong. At least not to my younger self. I used to be that young girl that laughed at those people. My parents started to know when I was listening in church when after church, I would mock those poor people. I was a brat. As I grew up I transitioned from brat to snob. This is why when I read Jane Austen’s Emma, I related so well to Emma. She was beautiful, popular, and good at everything. So was I! Unfortunately, it took some challenging friendships and betrayals to help me to see that I am not all that. I am normal. I have faults. I am weak.

Like most women, I loved Mr. Knightly in Emma. It has not been until the last few years as I served a mission and had “adult” struggles that I have truly appreciated his character. Mr. Knightly is most known for his good judgment. He is often found chiding Emma for her attitude towards those she deemed below her notice. Mr. Knightly is kind and mature. I feel that I am becoming more and more like Mr. Knightley and less like Emma as I strive to look outside of myself and love those around me.

I still have a special love for Emma because she had to learn the hard way just as I have had to learn the hard way that I am not above others. I have friends to be my Mr. Knightleys to keep me in line, but I also have myself to be my Mr. Knightley. I love that literature forces us to become the character and feel their emotions. I love escaping into a book and learning through the character’s experiences.

Because of literature, I am a reformed snob with a Knightley Complex.

Image by Bethany Carlyle-Abundo {link to www.mythirtyone.com​/gailabundo} via Renee Cohen Diggs {link to http://www.10cameliaway.etsy.com}