I strongly disliked this book after the first chapter and hated it by the start of the third story. Port considers himself a "traveller" rather than a tourist. This is just snobbishness on his part because he rarely leaves his hotel and then only to visit brothels (despite the fact his wife is with him). The first two thirds of this book consist of all the white characters moaning about and criticising the "natives" as well as almost every other nationality they come into contact with. They never actually bother to talk to the "natives" other than to give them orders or have sex with them.
Fortunately Port dies in the second story. But the novel was never really about him. It was about his pathetic wife Kit who has so little personality and character she might as well be a shop mannequin. She just attaches herself to the nearest male available, has sex with him and hopes he'll make decisions so she can continue being a doormat.
I found the rape scene(s) quite hard to digest. I suppose it could be seen as a metaphor of white colonists coming to Africa and raping the continent of its resources, languages, cultures, traditions, etc, but really it was mindblowingly unbelievable that a woman could be so indifferent to rape and not even consider it such. All the flowery romantic language in the world can't disguise the fact that it is rape, plain and simple.
I suppose she went crazy because her husband died (not that she seemed very fond of him anyway) and it meant that suddenly she was in a position of having to make decisions herself which she just doesn't do. I really don't know why she didn't just run into the welcoming arms of Tunner who was far too willing to take her on and make all her decisions for her. I haven't been so infuriated by a female character in a long time.
If you like healthy doses of racism and misogyny thrown in with pseudointellectual philosophy by insufferable, ignorant westerners, help yourself.