Tuesday, June 8, 2021

The Vernacular Tradition



Hoodoo Priestess Marie Laveau (photo credit).


"In African American literature, the vernacular refers to the church songs, blues, ballads, sermons, stories, and, in our own era, hip-hop songs that are part of the oral, not primarily the literate (or written-down) tradition of black expression. What distinguishes this body of work is its in group and, at times, secretive, defensive, and aggressive character: it is not, generally speaking, produced for circulation beyond the black group itself (though it sometimes is bought and sold by those outside its circle)" As Gates' definition suggests, the Vernacular encompasses the cultural creations of African Americans not simply as a form of catharsis or self-expression, but as a means of resistance. African American folk expression has been defined by scholars as "double-voiced," indicating that folk songs, sermons, jokes, and other modes of expression retained a meaning for the culture--and a separate meaning for the outside world. Slave songs, such as "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," and "Wade in the Water," served as coded messages to other slaves as they plotted escape, or an uprising. Other forms of expression coded messages for covert meetings, religious gatherings, or simply to express the longings and sufferings of the slave. The Vernacular Tradition would prove to be, in many ways, the grounding principle of an emerging literary tradition, harkened to by writers well into the 21st century. 
Gates continues, saying "This highly charged material has been extraordinarily influential for writers of poetry, fiction, drama, and so on. What would the work of Langston Hughes, Sterling A. Brown, Zora Neale Hurston, and Toni Morrison be like without its black vernacular ingredients?" (Gates, et al. 3).

As our text points out, the Vernacular as a study has raised specific questions and controversy concerning how scholars should interpret the role of the vernacular in the literary canon. Richard Wright argued against the "romanticization"of the folk--that is, presenting vernacular forms to be appreciated merely for their quaintness as simple expressions of an unsophisticated folk while overlooking their decidedly political function. Indeed, when we speak of "the folk," we refer to that demographic that represents the lived experience of individuals outside the academy: the average, every-man. The genius located in the vernacular forms of sermon, dozens, field hollers, spirituals, and so on, that was brilliantly underscored by Hurston, was the ability to militate against oppression while still emphasizing cultural and familial ties that were strengthened through tradition. When observed in this light, the folk and the vernacular tradition demonstrate their historical role as a means of survival and persistence. 

Slave narrativist Frederick Douglass took pains to re-present the "Sorrow Songs" of the plantation slaves--those soulful utterances that many white planters convinced themselves were sonorous evidence of the slaves' "happiness." Douglass would argue that, such an assessment was proof of white ignorance to the double meaning, the double-voiced nature of the songs that were, in truth, expressions of grief and of hope for deliverance in the afterlife.

The folk songs and narratives that are featured in our text were gathered and transcribed by Zora Neale Hurston in the 1930s and published in her collection entitled Mules and Men. In this volume, Hurston is careful to point out the cultural threads that connect African American folkways to elements of Caribbean and continental African folk expression. The syncretic religious practices of Haitian Vodu and Jamaican Obeah persist in the practices of the Sanctified Church and of the Ring Shouters of the Georgia coast, partially because of the ring-formation made during worship. 

The trickster, for instance, bears many of the same characteristics throughout the folktales of Haiti, Jamaica, West Africa, and Louisiana. In Haitian Vodu, a syncretic religion that combines West African gods with Catholic saints, features a trickster alternately called Papa Ghede or Baron Samedi. He is thought to be the corpse of the first man who ever died. He is also the god of fertility and of death, a psychopomp thought to usher souls to the afterlife. While he is considered heroic to Haitian peasants, he is a fearsome character to outsiders.




The lineage of the trickster can be traced to Esu-Elegbara of Yoruba tradition--the messenger god who translated the prayers of mortals to the gods, much in the same fashion as did Hermes of Greek tradition. 
Female Esu Ayagi (Lot 3).

In Haiti, Esu is translated as Papa Legba; in Cuban Santeria and Candomble, he is Eshu, Exu, Echu. In New Orleans Voodoo, he became Papa LaBas. Trinidad and Tobago recognize a similar trickster, the Midnight Robber, who makes his appearance annually at Carnivale. 


The trickster figure is often created by cultures as one that performs a cautionary function: he teaches younger generations what human foibles to avoid. However, in Africana folklore--particularly that of the Caribbean, the trickster is much more cunning and wily. In African American folklore, often a slave named John outwits his master tells a tale of his exploits in a way that underscores his cleverness while pointing out the greed and stupidity of Master. 



In large part, the Vernacular has been the source of inspiration and creativity for contemporary African American authors, as it represents the resilience of a culture to tyranny and persecution. For others it is a source of consternation in the light of other cultural forms and forces that sought to condemn or ridicule. As we read the selections in our text, think about how these songs, spirituals, and stories give evidence to the strength and persistence of African Americans. And, think about how Folklore and the Vernacular produce a distinctly African American literary form. 

"...Indeed, the vernacular is not a body of quaint, folksy items. It is not an exclusively male province. Nor is it associated with a a particular level of society or with a particular historical era. It is neither long ago, far away, nor fading. Instead, the vernacular encompasses vigorous, dynamic processes of expression, past and present. It makes up a rich storehouse of materials wherein the values, styles and character types of black American life are reflected in the language that is highly energized and often marvelously eloquent" (4).

Zora Neale Hurston, the acclaimed ethnographer, certainly saw the rich meaning behind many of these vernacular forms. During her time collecting folklore for Mules and Men, she recorded--and often sang "Lining Songs"--those that chain gangs sang to pass the time and move the work along.





Sojourner Truth: Orator and Prophet


"I cannot read a book but I can read the people."

Sojourner Truth (1797-1883), was born a slave in Hurley, Ulster County, New York to James and Elizabeth, slaves owned by the wealthy Dutch landowner and patron, Johannes Hardenbergh, Jr. Her narrative, penned by amanuensis Olive Wilson, relates her early trials as she was separated from her parents and subject to numerous beatings and mistreatment by subsequent owners. She was sold from the Hardenbergh family into a second Dutch family who were vexed by her inability to speak English. Known as "Isabella," Sojourner changed hands several times and came of age in the household of John I. Dumont, where she was often burdened with the chores of two people. It has been said that she was strong, tall, and stout, and able to outwork most men. One slaveholder commented that she was "better than a man--for she will do a good family's washing in the night, and be ready in the morning to go into the field, where she will do as much at raking and binding as my best hands" (Washington xv).

By the time she had delivered her fifth child in slavery, Isabella took action: she left the Dumont New Paltz farm and walked to freedom, with her infant child in her arms. She christened herself "Isabella Van Wagenen" for the family who took her in and protected her, and to protect herself from identification by her former owners. She would change her name again following her Christian conversion, and her newly-assumed role of itinerant minister of the Gospel. She became Sojourner Truth, as she announced her mission was to "sojourn" the land and deliver the "truth" of God's word.

As a renowned--and often reviled--stump speaker for the cause of anti-slavery, Sojourner Truth emerged during a period in which social reformation defined the day. The causes of Abolition and Women's Suffrage intertwined with other dominant reform movements that sought to rejuvenate the body and the soul, such as Grahamism and Spiritualism. However, her first obligation was to the cause of freedom, and she became an instrumental spokesperson for the causes of Women's Suffrage and Abolition. Audiences were captivated by Truth's eloquence, and her formidable physical presence that was enhanced by her remarkable height: she stood at over six feet tall. Though her message threatened many pro-slavery whites across the country who frequently harassed her and attempted to intercede on her speaking engagements, Truth was undaunted. When she was informed that someone had threatened to burn down the building where she was scheduled to speak for the evening, Truth responded simply, "Then I will speak to the ashes." Truth braved racism, cruelty, and mistreatment--plus several physical attacks--in her mission to spread the word of God and of abolition; and held fast to her faith that God "would protect her and that her message warranted the danger involved in its deliverance" (Gates). Thirteen years before Emancipation, Truth was firm in the knowledge that freedom could not be attained without struggle, but there would be freedom.

Below is a powerfully performed reading of "Arn't I a Woman" by actress Alfre Woodard: