Wednesday, May 24, 2023

The Tragic Mulatta: The Problematic Term

When William Wells Brown wrote Clotel: Or, The President's Daughter in 1853, it appeared he had a goal in mind: to expose the tyrannies, cruelties, and bare-faced hypocrisy of slavery as an institution. In a land of churches, there on an auction block stands Clotel, the radiant daughter of a slave mother and an unnamed white father (presumed to be Thomas Jefferson). She is so near-white that the white persons in the room could mistake her for one of their own daughters. Yet, she is a slave by virtue of "one drop" of African American blood.

"Why stands she near the auction stand,

That girl so young and fair? 

What brings her to this dismal place,

Why stands she weeping there?"

(Clotel, Chapter One)

The "Tragic Mulatta" as a term has understandably fallen into disrepute of late, in light of Critical Race Theory, and of many other identity-based dialogues involving biracial, or individuals of mixed heritage. It has been labeled a "stereotype," an item of "anti-black imagery," "outdated," and "offensive" (Google Search). Historicists might agree that, in his time, William Wells Brown was working with (but mostly against) the popular terms of the time associated with miscegenation--the term applied to interracial sexual relations. His evident mission was not to champion, but to challenge those terms, and to create a compelling image of the sufferings endured by womanhood in servitude to a callous, cruel, and despicable institution. In so doing, he added to his project the tearing down of the hypocrisy of the day: a woman placed on an auction block to be sold on the bases of her beauty, Christianity, purity, and grace--but "fit for a fancy girl" for any taker.  It does not escape even the presentist that this scene was a jibe at the predatory white male who simultaneously boasted his morality, his devout Christianity, while seeking out a sixteen-year-old child-woman of color to serve as his whore. The narrator makes this hypocrisy--and his repulsion of it--clear, when he remarks "Reader, when you take into consideration the fact, that amongst the slave population no safeguard is thrown around virtue, and no inducement held out to slave women to be chaste, you will not be surprised when we tell you that immorality and vice pervade the cities of the Southern States in a manner unknown in the cities and towns of the Northern States. Indeed most of the slave women have no higher aspirations than that of becoming the finely-dressed mistress of some white man" (Clotel Chapter One). Even in the understated and genteel syntax of the Victorian writer, Brown makes his point clear. 

The "Tragic Mulatta" in this discussion, is a literary trope, or theme, that Brown introduced when he invented the characters of Currer, Althesa, and Clotel. This character serves to dramatize the impact upon black women who were prematurely sexualized, torn from their families, and trafficked for the pleasure of white males. Yet, they existed within a system that even such a fate was better than being sold as chattel. 

The "Fancy Girl Balls" of the eighteenth and nineteenth century reveal how young women of mixed race were sold into sexual servitude under a system called "placage." Mothers, eager to see their female children escape the fates of some women as breeders, field hands, or even the chamber maid of some tyrannical and histrionic mistress. They would groom their daughters as beautiful and eligible arm candy for well-to-do sons of cotton factors, slaveholders, and other men of means. The young females would appear at a ballroom, line up, and wait to be chosen. A man (like Horatio Green of the novel) would choose a young girl he liked, take her home, set her up with an opulent wardrobe, a comfortable cottage, and have as many children by her as he liked. When he grew bored, he abandoned her and the girl was left to struggle on her own. Often she was absorbed right back into the system into which she was born. Her story rarely has a happy ending, and the "tragedy" of this young woman is that she continues to suffer--first the loss of her child through death or slavery, then the rejection of whites and blacks simultaneously, and, separated from her child, she cannot escape the grips of her fate and resorts to suicide. In Brown's novel, Clotel's suicide is symbolically carried out in full view of the stately White House, home of the Commander in Chief: her unwitting, uncaring sire. How could Brown more fully illustrate the painful irony of being the child of a statesman, thrown away as a slave?

Clotel: Or, The President's Daughter, is the author's attack on such systems as placage. He makes his bitter deconstruction of the hypocrisy--even the irony of the Slavocracy plain by using the terms at hand. Though we may find such terms distasteful now, they were once in use, some 170 years ago, and it is a terrible fate to forget where they come from and why they are distasteful.







Sunday, August 8, 2021

The Literature of Slavery and Freedom


"The engendering impulse of African American literature is resistance to human tyranny. The sustaining spirit of African American literature is dedication to human dignity. As resistance to tyranny and dedication to human dignity became increasingly synonymous with the idea of America itself in the latter half of the eighteenth century, early African American writers identified themselves as Americans with a special mission. They would articulate the spiritual and political ideals of America to inspire and justify the struggle of blacks for their birthright as American citizens. They would also demand fidelity to those same ideals from whites whose moral complacency and racial prejudices hand blinded them to the obligations of their own heritage" (Gates et al. 151).

In his introduction to "The Literature of Slavery and Freedom" (Norton), Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. points out many of the key issues facing the earliest African American writers of the eighteenth century, who were courageous enough to commit their stories to the page. During this time, the young nation was gradually becoming unified under the philosophies of Enlightenment and Christian Humanism, while gathering momentum toward a War of Independence from British rule. Meanwhile, those who had been subjected to chattel slavery were summarily left out of this bid for independence and were denied recognition of their humanity.

This was the task facing the earliest writers of what has now come to be known as the Slave Narrative: the assertion of one's humanity. From the inception of slavery in the colonies, slaves (and former slaves) were not only discounted from regular citizenship, but mass movements toward Christianizing slaves surged and ebbed because of a lack of consensus as to whether slaves possessed eternal souls. The twin philosophies of self-determination and independence--and the claim to a soul--were the driving forces behind the early slave narratives of Olaudah Equiano, Venture Smith, Jupiter Hammon, David Walker, and later, Frederick Douglass. Each of these writers, to one extent or the other, engages Enlightenment philosophies of self-determination and humanity. Included is an example of his or her Christian faith as evidence of his or her intrinsic value. 


thedailybeast.com
Later narratives moved the genre from memoir to propaganda.  Frederick Douglass's 1845 Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, and William Wells Brown's Narrative of William W. Brown, a Fugitive Slave, were published and promoted to advance the cause of abolition. The Abolitionist movement took the biblical justification for a cause to new angles: the polemic was that Freedom was the true Christian cause. As a propagandist tract, These narratives began to assume a recognizable shape as they began by retelling  the horrors of being born into slavery, and the ways that the institution shaped the characters of whites as well as tormenting blacks. These tracts pointed out the hypocrisy of slave owners, and the subtle as well as overt indignities African slaves suffered under the lash.

In 1861, one of the first slave narratives by a woman was published. It was called Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. The novel began as a serial publication inspired by abolitionists, Amy and Isaac Post, and was later published as a single volume in which the perversions and special cruelties toward women in slavery were revealed. Jacobs' narrative bore the same conventions as many of her predecessors' narratives did, and with this addition, Incidents became another installment of a growing genre. 

Still, the slave narrativist had as his first task the evidence that he was capable of intellectual thought and literary production. The need for authentication was revealed in the titles of each narrative: "Written by Himself," as well as the presence of an Authentication Letter. This document was usually penned by a wealthy white progressive whose reputation carried sufficient weight to endorse the author's veracity. Other narrativists, like Sojourner Truth who could not write or read, relied on an amanuensis, or 'ghost writer,' to write their stories.

The Abolitionist's cause grew in popularity toward the middle of the nineteenth century, and the slave narrative became its centerpiece for the eradication of slavery. A set of marked qualities emerged among slave narratives, and scholars have compiled these features as the conventions of the slave narrative. A few of the most common are listed below:

1. Slave narratives are episodic. There is usually a brief summary of events at the start of each chapter. 

2. The phrase, "I was born..." marks the fact of the subject's birth, the place of his birth, but no certainty as to the date of his birth. 

3. The author recalls his parents or a grandparent who raised him. There are usually fond memories of a mother or grandmother, but only vague memories of a father. It is often the plantation owner who is the slave's father. 

4. The author describes the first abuse he receives and others that follows. Much attention is paid to women who suffer brutality.

5. The author recalls a new slave arriving to the plantation from Africa who is remarkably strong a strong-willed, and refuses to be whipped.

6. The author recalls the legalities and prohibitions against teaching a slave to read and write, observing this law as a means to keep slaves ignorant and unaware.

7. The author recalls a self-professed "Christian" slaveholder whose cruelty was worse than that of any others.

8. The author describes the living conditions of the slave: the quarters, the food, the clothing, the medical attention (if any) that slaves received.

9. The author includes a description of the slave auction, with details of families, married couples, parents and children being painfully separated.

10. The author describes the fate of the runaway slave.

11. The author describes the benevolence of abolitionists/northerners.

12. The author describes his conversion to the Christian faith via his literacy.

13. The author assumes a new name, changing his address from "Smith's John" to "John Smith," or naming himself after a famous abolitionist or benevolent politician.

*Adopted from Source.

Below are the images of several famous abolitionists. The list is not comprehensive by any means:


Harriet Tubman

William Lloyd Garrison

Amy Post

Frederick Douglass

William Wells Brown

John Brown

Lucretia Mott

Lydia Marie Child

Elizabeth Cady Stanton

Frances E.W. Harper




The Intrepid Voice of Civil Rights: James Baldwin: 1924-1987

 "All art is a kind of confession" (Gates, et al.).


James Baldwin was born in Harlem, New York, in 1924 at the height of the Harlem Renaissance. Religion had come with many African Americans from the Deep South into storefront churches along the main drags of Harlem. Born to an unmarried mother, however, James had a troubled childhood that was defined by poverty and want. When his mother married, it was David Baldwin, a lay preacher, who expounded on a gospel of a jealous and angry god. Though the boy did have a run at street preaching in his youth, he would ultimately renounce Christianity and find peace in books. The library was a quiet respite for the child whose home life had become chaotic. 

The time he spent with books in his youth would pay off, as he began a promising career as a teen. He wrote for a church newsletter, as well as for his school. He would later establish relationships with such notable figures as Countee Cullen and Richard Wright, who would help curate the young man's career as a published author. 

"Shackled to Myths"

As Baldwin matured as a writer, he found that it was his essays, not his novels, where he found most freedom of expression. His novels, including his first, Go Tell it on the Mountain received praise, and Baldwin met the demand in a succession of publications to follow. None of the novels he had written fared as well as his essays. Especially those collected in Notes from a Native Son, Baldwin's fiery passion would rise to be called the "the conscience of the nation" (392). 

It was Baldwin's own unwavering passion and self-assertion that would damage his relationship with Richard Wright. Baldwin's scathing criticism of the protest novel--the very genre Wright championed--was what eroded that mentoring relationship. For his own reasons, James Baldwin left the country soon after, spending his time in Paris.

By the time he returned to the U.S. in 1957, the Civil Rights struggle had compelled him to get involved. Reporting on school segregation in the South, Baldwin soon lent his literary talents to recording the events--and the relationships--that would shape the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. He was active in CORE (Congress for Racial Equality) and SNCC (Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee).

What might startle the casual viewer (or listener) of Baldwin's rhetoric is the surprising laser accuracy with which Baldwin disarms his opponents. The efficiency with which he exposes the inconsistencies, the anxieties, and the insecurities that lay beneath racism, often leaves his listener in mild shock. Baldwin could be particularly uncompromising as it applied to patrician white culture and its traditional attitudes toward sexuality and morality. Baldwin shrewdly asserts that the white man needs the black man as subordinate to project onto him all of the white's insecurities. In similar fashion, Baldwin is quoted in our text as saying that the "homosexual" is "created as outcast to shore up an enfeebled masculine identity." That in fact, "Macho men need 'faggots' whom they have created 'in order to act out a sexual fantasy on the body of another man and not take any responsibility for it" (392). Undeniably, Baldwin had an uncanny ability to deconstruct the myths America has perpetuated, despite the feebleness, shallowness, and hypocrisy of such myths.

Perhaps the most impressive example of James Baldwin's rhetorical power is demonstrated through his debate with William F. Buckley at Cambridge University, in the UK in 1965. Buckley was a staunchly conservative intellectual, debater, author, founder of The National Review and host of the program, Firing Line. The topic of the debate was "whether the American Dream had been achieved at the expense of African Americans" (1). 

According to the editors of our text, The Norton Anthology of African American Literature, though Baldwin renounced Christianity, it was the rhetoric of Old Testament sermonizing, and the themes of sin, redemption, absolution that shaped his own rhetorical style. Dr. Gates, et al. report that "the lyrics of the spirituals, blues, and gospel, [create] a prose that demands the reader's attentive ear as much as eye, for the pace, cadences, rhythms...often lost to print" (Gates, et al. 391). In this debate with Buckley, one hears the force of the pulpit through the voice of James Baldwin. The force, the passion from this man for whom words and language were his instruments. With stealth, grace, and enviable poise, he meets the challenges and barbs of Buckley's narrow views and triumphs.