The arrogance of the narrator, resting on the confidence that he hails from a culture that has reached the ultimate apex of development, as he dismisses what he sees as the folly and wasted lives of savages, provides many belly-laughs. We are supposed to simultaneously believe that these are childlike simpletons and ruthless satanic beasts. As the narrator's culture rapidly destroys itself and its planet, including the happy hunting grounds of these supposed wild animals dressed like dolls, you can sit back and roar in appreciation that you, too, are 'civilized'.
One thing the narrator gets right: mangoes are good, but you have to get over the initial hint of turpentine.
One thing the narrator gets right: mangoes are good, but you have to get over the initial hint of turpentine.