As different as they are in appearance—Kayerts is short and fat, while Carlier is tall and birdlike—both of these men embody the arrogance and stupidity that are the distinguishing marks, according to author Joseph Conrad, of the white European men who set out to make themselves rich by spreading commerce and civilization to black Africa. The first few months pass by rather uneventfully. Although they are generally fearful and begin to cling to each other more out of desperation than out of any feelings of affection or respect, both Kayerts and Carlier imagine themselves to be in a kind of pastoral scene:
An Outpost of Progress I There were two white men in charge of the trading station. Kayerts, the chief, was short and fat; Carlier, the assistant, was tall, with a large head and a very broad trunk perched upon a long pair of thin legs.
The third man on the staff was a Sierra Leone nigger, who maintained that his name was Henry Price. However, for some reason or other, the natives down the river had given him the name of Makola, and it stuck to him through all his wanderings An outpost of progress the country.
He spoke English and French with a warbling accent, wrote a beautiful hand, understood bookkeeping, and cherished in his innermost heart the worship of evil spirits. His wife was a negress from Loanda, very large and very noisy.
Three children rolled about in sunshine before the door of his low, shed-like dwelling. Makola, taciturn and impenetrable, despised the two white men. He had charge of a small clay storehouse with a dried-grass roof, and pretended to keep a correct account of beads, cotton cloth, red kerchiefs, brass wire, and other trade goods it contained.
It was built neatly of reeds, with a verandah on all the four sides. There were three rooms in it.
The one in the middle was the living-room, and had two rough tables and a few stools in it. The other two were the bedrooms for the white men. Each had a bedstead and a mosquito net for all furniture.
The plank floor was littered with the belongings of the white men; open half-empty boxes, torn wearing apparel, old boots; all the things dirty, and all the things broken, that accumulate mysteriously round untidy men.
There was also another dwelling-place some distance away from the buildings. In it, under a tall cross much out of the perpendicular, slept the man who had seen the beginning of all this; who had planned and had watched the construction of this outpost of progress.
He had been, at home, an unsuccessful painter who, weary of pursuing fame on an empty stomach, had gone out there through high protections. He had been the first chief of that station. Makola had watched the energetic artist die of fever in the just finished house with his usual kind of "I told you so" indifference.
Then, for a time, he dwelt alone with his family, his account books, and the Evil Spirit that rules the lands under the equator. He got on very well with his god. Perhaps he had propitiated him by a promise of more white men to play with, by and by.
At any rate the director of the Great Trading Company, coming up in a steamer that resembled an enormous sardine box with a flat-roofed shed erected on it, found the station in good order, and Makola as usual quietly diligent.
Carlier was told off as second in charge. The director was a man ruthless and efficient, who at times, but very imperceptibly, indulged in grim humour.
He made a speech to Kayerts and Carlier, pointing out to them the promising aspect of their station. The nearest trading-post was about three hundred miles away. It was an exceptional opportunity for them to distinguish themselves and to earn percentages on the trade.
This appointment was a favour done to beginners.
Kayerts had been in the Administration of the Telegraphs, and knew how to express himself correctly. Carlier, an ex-non-commissioned officer of cavalry in an army guaranteed from harm by several European Powers, was less impressed.
If there were commissions to get, so much the better; and, trailing a sulky glance over the river, the forests, the impenetrable bush that seemed to cut off the station from the rest of the world, he muttered between his teeth, "We shall see, very soon.
On the deck the director touched his cap to the two agents, who stood on the bank waving their hats, and turning to an old servant of the Company on his passage to headquarters, said, "Look at those two imbeciles.
They must be mad at home to send me such specimens. I told those fellows to plant a vegetable garden, build new storehouses and fences, and construct a landing-stage.
I bet nothing will be done!OMD Audio Recording Series – Audio #10 () Gary Hunt Outpost of Freedom May 6, These audios are being released because the government misrepresented, by cookie-cutting phrases, and presenting out of context statements in their documentation.
Wright is the Chief Executive Officer and a Co-Founder of Outpost Games. A designer and entrepreneur with a deep passion for building products that enable everyone’s skill and creativity to shine, he found his passion for game design and fascination with game platforms after getting hooked on the Quake mod scene, back in "An Outpost of Progress" is a short story written in July by Joseph Conrad, drawing on his own experience at Congo.
It was published in the magazine Cosmopolis in and was later collected in Tales of Unrest in First published: Jul, NBC’s ‘America’s Got Talent’ Makes Ratings Noise On Tuesday While CW’s ‘The Outpost’ Opens Softly. An Outpost of Progress ends with the image of Kayerts' swollen tongue pointed at his Managing Director.
Chapter 2 Analysis This chapter reveals the truly ugly underside of humanity, both native and European. Step 1: Pick Your Pizza(s) In front of you is a beautiful array of anywhere from 12 to 15 pizzas, which includes our mainstays — like the exquisitely simple Margherita — along with new creations — like pumpkin, speck and caciocavallo — .