Comparison of thematic Analysis of plot and setting used by Joseph Conrad’s “An outpost of progress” and Somerest Maugham’s “the outstation.”
Conrad is regarded as one of the exceptional stylish of contemporary fiction and “An Outpost of Progress” displays a significant amount of his trademark schemes in a complete favorite place. He uses a particular measure of practical consideration, but the story is usually loaded with inappropriate and ill-humored entries that create an odd scene that is not only the basis of Kayerts and Carlier but also an aggravating projection of their psyches. For example, the deliberately obscure and sensational depictions of the jungle and river place an impervious and incomprehensible setting on the exchange post. Kayerts and Carlier do not follow anything or have anything substantial to clutch, and it is unavoidable from the outset that they will be overpowered by secret forces that they do not expect controlling.
An Outpost Progress is also effectively organized. For example, there are rehashed contrasts that make the peruser aware of the critical options or clashes that are sensationalized: Europe versus Africa, the exchange posts versus the jungle, white men “civilization” versus indigenous society. Furthermore, Conrad uses very loaded symbols to suggest that he compose not an activity story, but rather a philosophical and ethical anecdote: for example, the storage facility is known as a “fetish” and stands as a fake location of worship for the love of material merchandise that depicts European human advancement. Finally, Conrad shields his story from winding up unpleasantly genuine by contributing odd comic minutes: civilization diplomats Kayerts and Carlier are more amusing than forcing, despite their stupidity, making them no less hazardous. “You very red, Mr. Kayerts. If you are so irritable in the sun, you will get fever and die – like the first chief!” page 2.
Regularly disregarded in examining Maugham’s story amid the rush to arrange it only within the neighboring environment of British imperialism and class division is the way Mr. Warburton is undoubtedly Kurtz’s close cousin. He, too, has ended up on the edges of Borneo culture and he also goes to some sketchy lengths to protect his European “civilization” ideas which include dressing for supper every evening his impulse to read a month and a half ancient paper altogether in a replication of his morning timetable back when he was still a piece of that cultivated culture. He’s no longer that. He’s banished because a deadly imperfection is a horrible player to the boonies, but he’s found reclamation for himself in that expulsion. Despite apparently insurmountable resistance, the ingrained betting discovered an amazing capacity to manage productively. “Imagination grows by exercise, and contrary to common belief is more powerful in the mature than in the young.” (Page 164). Under the high-brow but shockingly receptive character Mr. Warburton, the colonial system is very much organized and then arrives Mr. Cooper who is a white guy of the lower class conceived in one of the countries of England. You’d figure that Cooper would prefer to coexist with the locals over the Warburton, but he’s uncovered as the genuine stiff neck and can’t take it when those classes even lower the one to which he’s given a place don’t give him proper consideration.
The result is that the big talker from high society is not usually the upstart here. At any rate, all accounts are the thing that the message is. Something much darker lies beneath that false practice, though. The reality of the matter is that Mr. Warburton is a significantly enhanced large speaker than Mr. Cooper, yet he considered that such inborn kinds as the people who work for the structure he supervises make divine beings not of vanquishers, but prevailing animals. Also, Mr. Warburton has revealed that he is common. Right off the bat in the story, his favorite place is portrayed as an arbor in the nursery where from the stream that flowed beneath him, a voice was heard, the voice of some Malay too meek to consider even venturing into the light of day, and a grumbling or allegation was gently dropped to his ears, a snippet of information was whispered to him, or a precious clue that could usually never have entered his official. Maugham’s descriptive powers are on display here in complete; demonstrating no willingness to make a moral judgment, he merely says the fact with such gentle irony that it can be ignored. There is the irony: Mr. Warburton is a guy, but what is described is a prayer and supplication religious ritual. It is far from difficult to see this identical phrase discovered virtually immaculate in the heart of Darkness as a portrayal of how Kurtz treats his locals. High above and in the light, Warburton; his admirers in the dark below. Mystery supplication and safety provides. Warburton is a Kurtz kind.
From the beginning to the end, Conrad’s destructive irony undermines the requirements of future civilizers by showing that their ” progress” thinking only leads to rot and murder, that the way of life they disturb is safer than their own, and that the jungle and all the powers it symbolizes can still prevail over all efforts to expel darkness from human life. “They were two perfectly insignificant and incapable individuals, whose existence is only rendered possible through the high organization of civilized crowds. Few men realize that their life, the very essence of their character, their capabilities and their audacities, are only the expression of their belief in the safety of their surroundings” Page 10-11. Warburton is also defined as “a queer creature” and his distinctive dressing practices in hot Borneo as if it were a night out in London or reaching six weeks ancient newspaper as if they had arrived new at his doorway that morning only serves to intensify his project feeling of otherness. They are the sort of queer habit that is described as “eccentric” rather than “insane,” and that’s what Warburton’s status loves. All about him is superior, and he doesn’t need to work hard to preserve it as Cooper does. It’s his natural expansion.
One can readily see why this story is so often boiled down to a distinguishing class, but the reality is that Warburton is distinctive. He’s not just a sign of British colonial supremacy; he’s even superior to the whites that he left behind. The Prince of Wales with whom he had been partying (like Falstaff?) became King, but he became a god. A minor god, definitely not immortal, but he’s Borneo’s godhead figure. So much so that even if a brown indigenous kills a white guy, Warburton’s term alone is sufficient to guarantee that it never becomes a scandal. Warburton’s kingdom is not much lower than his ancient friend who used to be just a prince, but even that white British man does not appreciate Warburton’s worshipful regard and infinite authority. It may be just a British Empire outstation, but it’s all his.
References
Conrad, Joseph. “An outpost of progress.” rpt. in Great Short Works of Joseph Conrad (1896): 17.
Maugham, W. Somerset. The Outstation. Kessinger Publishing, 2004.