Example research essay topic: A Letter To Kurtz From A Heart Of Darkness – 956 words

I am writing this letter to you, to a shrouded
unknowingness, a deep scar left upon my
soul–that, which seems to have been an obscurity
and the only reason for traveling through this
maze of green walls. Before I ever realized it, I
had become so engrossed and drawn to this enigma
of the darkness. I am now arriving at the inner
station. This has been a captivating and
intriguing experience thus far, and to realize it
is not yet over, utterly exhausts me. I have only
eight miles to meet you, the gaping hole in my
soul. The quietness of the green wall and
motionlessness of the river is eerie, almost
unsettling–the movement in the bushes became numb
with an unnatural sleep.

I am now sleeping this
unnatural sleep as well; the air in my chest
shortens and deepens, as if it were a foreboding
omen lying ahead in the foggy darkness. Nearly two
months I have been on this voyage, waiting, to
meet you, a vague obscurity in my reality–I have
seen more than I would like to see. This has
turned into an atmosphere of death, death has
followed life, it now awaits it, it peers at us,
simply waiting, patiently. Like a snake waiting to
strike, devour its prey, it waits for us. And like
its prey, I have questioning life and death.
Death; illness; both are misinterpreted approaches
to death. You must wonder what I am speaking of;
as do I, I will notify you the moment that I find
the answer in this sea of doubt.

I do not intend
to mail this letter off because it is mostly for
me. So, with this being said, I would like to
describe my version of Kurtz, the Kurtz that I
believe is the plug to this hole. I am in the
Jungles of Africa searching for you. I have
traveled hundreds of miles to see you; I have
survived attacks to see you; I have seen death,
torture and slavery to see you; I have seen what,
I hope, no other man should be allowed to see,
simply to see You. You, you is a he whom I believe
I may never see. You, to me, are a revelation, and
in reality, revelations are not seen or heard with
the senses-instead they are only perceived.

That
is what You are to me. A truth, a feature of this
world-a gateway to another dimension that contains
only darkness. The truth may be too hard for the
human heart to endure. He is of enigmatical
character, or so says the Russian man, the one
with blue eyes. This Russian man is confused, I
believe, which I may only believe to be my own
foreshadowing of what is to come. This
foreshadowing is an image of my boat, pushing
along these green walls, along this muddy river,
though this Fog, though Death, and trying to make
sense of it all, but not being able to.

Similar to
predicting the future, the outcome can only be
guessed, inaccurately. However, stating that all
my experiences make no sense–now, I do understand
that. Shall I bow to my knees when I meet the
fateful hand of his? So, I hear that you are ill;
you have my sympathies; however, the bulk of my
sympathies go to my helmsman, who, by the way, is
dead by your attack. I had his rose-red blood
spilling on my shoes–the spear that messed my
shoes came from your people. Getting to You was
not worth losing a man whom I have given
recognition to, but its a bit too late. This
angers me.

Your timing could not have been worse.
The helmsman was my partner; when I looked into
his cold, expired eyes, we had a moment where time
stood still and we became friends. Then I had to
take my shoes off and through him overboard
because of the cannibals Im traveling with. To
you, Kurtz, I am ready to feel sorry for myself
and address the sympathy that is within me. I am
weak, yes. I have weaker morals than you, yes.
However, does that make me any less of a person?
So, is my destiny to travel down this deathful
river into the heart of the Truth that you somehow
may represent; and if so I hope that perhaps when
I do come to your side, and, bow if need be, I
will shake your hand and you will give me answers.
Answers for my quest. You may tell me what you
know about life, and love, and the existence of
humanity– the role evil and lightless matter have
in the universe– and how this oily mess spills
from the hearts of men, and why.

Why have I
followed the path of liquid bordered by hollows of
darkness and fog? And why I have passed dead
corpses strewed along the forest floor like
flowers in a meadow, death pouring like vapor from
their gaping mouths, to get to you? Why have I
embarked on this endeavor, simply to meet You?
Crickets and fish and owls singing, and sprouting
with life, hammered down by the presence of some
ominous deathly aura that I feel may emanate from
your being all throughout the Congo stretch. Why
have I ventured so, and what is the purpose of
this letter, but to try to let my mind grasp its
existence? Oh, all these questions and the
curiosity to find out! And so, you ask me… have
I straightened my thoughts a bit–to perhaps make
this voyage a bit more bearable without my
questions haunting me so? And my answer for you,
sir, is no. I suppose I will have to wait. Marlow.

Research essay sample on A Letter To Kurtz From A Heart Of Darkness