Reading Race
March 10, 2005 11:58 AM Subscribe
Is it American literature or African-American literature...or is it literature at all? Nineteenth-century novelist Emma Dunham Kelly-Hawkins, author of the little-read novels Megda and Four Girls at Cottage City, is getting dumped from The Schomburg Library of Nineteenth-Century Black Women Writers (previously mentioned in this thread) because she was probably white. Let the literary bickery begin!
While we are at it: I have always been suspicious of W.E.B. DuBois.
posted by dios at 12:27 PM on March 10, 2005
posted by dios at 12:27 PM on March 10, 2005
Yeah, because it was really advantageous in 1903 to claim to be black.
/irony-deficient?
posted by leotrotsky at 12:32 PM on March 10, 2005
/irony-deficient?
posted by leotrotsky at 12:32 PM on March 10, 2005
This is interesting in a sort of dry academic way, but I don't see what there is to bicker about, other than why she was mistaken for black in the first place.
posted by bingo at 1:43 PM on March 10, 2005
posted by bingo at 1:43 PM on March 10, 2005
Nothing to bicker about -- culturally interesting, but it's a simple recontextualization of an author based on new research. This kind of thing happens in academia from time to time.
posted by Miko at 1:59 PM on March 10, 2005
posted by Miko at 1:59 PM on March 10, 2005
I bet she pretended to be African-American because she knew someday her star would rise in a postcolonial world.
posted by thehippe at 2:15 PM on March 10, 2005
posted by thehippe at 2:15 PM on March 10, 2005
i have that Cottage City book--this is really really surprising. Great work on Jackson's part. Thanks, butternut. (i did wonder at her descriptions in that book)
posted by amberglow at 2:53 PM on March 10, 2005
posted by amberglow at 2:53 PM on March 10, 2005
See also the commentary and discussion over at Crooked Timber.
Miko: Nothing to bicker about -- culturally interesting, but it's a simple recontextualization of an author based on new research. This kind of thing happens in academia from time to time.
I'm not sure I agree with you totally here. Literary studies -- unlike, say, literary sociology or history -- still needs to grapple with the matter of literary value. If you're going to have a canon of writers, you need some basis for the selection of one group of writers rather than another, and this is obviously going to raise questions of value and worth.
In the case of Kelly-Hawkins, the literary worth of her novels wouldn't warrant any substantial reputation at all without the support of a (posthumously attributed) ethnic identity. So what this new research achieves is not so much a 'simple recontextualization', as the complete removal of the author from the set of writers who are likely to attract serious scholarly attention (the academic canon, if you will).
The critic K. K. Ruthven talks about this phenomenon in his 2001 monograph 'Faking Literature'. What does the refiguration here of White mediocrity as Black talent say about the solidity (or otherwise) of an identity politics-based literary criticism?
posted by Sonny Jim at 4:31 PM on March 10, 2005
Miko: Nothing to bicker about -- culturally interesting, but it's a simple recontextualization of an author based on new research. This kind of thing happens in academia from time to time.
I'm not sure I agree with you totally here. Literary studies -- unlike, say, literary sociology or history -- still needs to grapple with the matter of literary value. If you're going to have a canon of writers, you need some basis for the selection of one group of writers rather than another, and this is obviously going to raise questions of value and worth.
In the case of Kelly-Hawkins, the literary worth of her novels wouldn't warrant any substantial reputation at all without the support of a (posthumously attributed) ethnic identity. So what this new research achieves is not so much a 'simple recontextualization', as the complete removal of the author from the set of writers who are likely to attract serious scholarly attention (the academic canon, if you will).
The critic K. K. Ruthven talks about this phenomenon in his 2001 monograph 'Faking Literature'. What does the refiguration here of White mediocrity as Black talent say about the solidity (or otherwise) of an identity politics-based literary criticism?
posted by Sonny Jim at 4:31 PM on March 10, 2005
What does the refiguration here of White mediocrity as Black talent say about the solidity (or otherwise) of an identity politics-based literary criticism?
Well, I suppose the argument in favor of the work's inclusion as a part of the black literary canon would take into account that in a racially oppressive environment, what would be mediocre if written by someone in the dominant ethnicity is exceptional if written by a member of the oppressed ethnicity (due to the legal and social barriers between the person and the achievement). This would be true in much the same way that a female becoming a doctor today is not noteworthy, but a female becoming a doctor (even a not very good one) in 1900 was an unusual enough achievement that such early pioneers in that field are profitable targets of historical inquiry.
White authors, even female ones, were more likely to have had the benefit of schooling, access to larger libraries, and the leisure time to devote to literary pursuits -- whereas such advantages would have been far rarer among American blacks at the turn of the century. Thus the standards that would make this book worthy of inclusion in the canon of black authors are different from those for the canon of white authors. The book would have been a more puzzling, and more interesting, historical document had it indeed been written by a black woman, because it would counter prevailing ideas about the opportunities and formal recognitions available to blacks at the time.
posted by Miko at 6:02 PM on March 10, 2005
Well, I suppose the argument in favor of the work's inclusion as a part of the black literary canon would take into account that in a racially oppressive environment, what would be mediocre if written by someone in the dominant ethnicity is exceptional if written by a member of the oppressed ethnicity (due to the legal and social barriers between the person and the achievement). This would be true in much the same way that a female becoming a doctor today is not noteworthy, but a female becoming a doctor (even a not very good one) in 1900 was an unusual enough achievement that such early pioneers in that field are profitable targets of historical inquiry.
White authors, even female ones, were more likely to have had the benefit of schooling, access to larger libraries, and the leisure time to devote to literary pursuits -- whereas such advantages would have been far rarer among American blacks at the turn of the century. Thus the standards that would make this book worthy of inclusion in the canon of black authors are different from those for the canon of white authors. The book would have been a more puzzling, and more interesting, historical document had it indeed been written by a black woman, because it would counter prevailing ideas about the opportunities and formal recognitions available to blacks at the time.
posted by Miko at 6:02 PM on March 10, 2005
What does the refiguration here of White mediocrity as Black talent say about the solidity (or otherwise) of an identity politics-based literary criticism?
I've never read the author in question, but I can say that I've never thought much of "identity politics-based literary criticism", even though (or perhaps because) I easily fit onto several such "minority" categories -- and find with further time and experience I could easily fit subminority subcategories within some of those. E.g., imagine if Charles Chesnutt was a also gay-identified bisexual, who found in mid-life that he really preferred women after all -- and, besides was sick of disco music (or even "gothic- industrial post-disco") and line-dancing. Who had also grown tired of always having to try to reconcile gay identity politics with libertarian convictions against illegalizing every type of utterance that one's faction disproves of. Who still had no wish to disavow his "former 'identity'", nor to repress those who could be described in any of those ways he once described himself, nor to put it down as "just a phase". And who disdained to become absorbed into that category of Straight White Male that is in so many ways a true (and often truly repulsive) embodiment of that same kind of "identity-based" crap that they, as a shibboleth of their own, inveigh against. What in the hell would such a person's "identity politics-based literary criticism" look like? (And how would it punctuate itself?)
posted by davy at 8:10 PM on March 10, 2005
I've never read the author in question, but I can say that I've never thought much of "identity politics-based literary criticism", even though (or perhaps because) I easily fit onto several such "minority" categories -- and find with further time and experience I could easily fit subminority subcategories within some of those. E.g., imagine if Charles Chesnutt was a also gay-identified bisexual, who found in mid-life that he really preferred women after all -- and, besides was sick of disco music (or even "gothic- industrial post-disco") and line-dancing. Who had also grown tired of always having to try to reconcile gay identity politics with libertarian convictions against illegalizing every type of utterance that one's faction disproves of. Who still had no wish to disavow his "former 'identity'", nor to repress those who could be described in any of those ways he once described himself, nor to put it down as "just a phase". And who disdained to become absorbed into that category of Straight White Male that is in so many ways a true (and often truly repulsive) embodiment of that same kind of "identity-based" crap that they, as a shibboleth of their own, inveigh against. What in the hell would such a person's "identity politics-based literary criticism" look like? (And how would it punctuate itself?)
posted by davy at 8:10 PM on March 10, 2005
Miko: Thus the standards that would make this book worthy of inclusion in the canon of black authors are different from those for the canon of white authors.
Yeah, I agree that historical disadvantage -- lack of education, access to leisure time, etc. -- might necessarily constrain the quality of an author's writing. What interests me, though, is how one deals with this (usually painfully evident) quality differential, particularly in the university classroom.
Courses or schools of criticism that bracket or ignore questions of literary merit make me uneasy, because English lit. still -- rightly or wrongly -- remains tied to 'the canon', underpinning which is the assumption of literary merit. Trying to 'explode' the canon, by teaching courses or putting together anthologies based on other categories of inclusion -- such as ethnicity -- is, it seems to me, more difficult that it seems. With history, say, the question of what the primary sources are is usually fairly straightforward. In Literature, though, the criterion for recognition as an object worthy of study -- 'literature' -- is still, I would argue, subjective taste, and questions of selectivity, literary worth, and critical judgment can't be evaded that easily.
posted by Sonny Jim at 10:53 PM on March 10, 2005
Yeah, I agree that historical disadvantage -- lack of education, access to leisure time, etc. -- might necessarily constrain the quality of an author's writing. What interests me, though, is how one deals with this (usually painfully evident) quality differential, particularly in the university classroom.
Courses or schools of criticism that bracket or ignore questions of literary merit make me uneasy, because English lit. still -- rightly or wrongly -- remains tied to 'the canon', underpinning which is the assumption of literary merit. Trying to 'explode' the canon, by teaching courses or putting together anthologies based on other categories of inclusion -- such as ethnicity -- is, it seems to me, more difficult that it seems. With history, say, the question of what the primary sources are is usually fairly straightforward. In Literature, though, the criterion for recognition as an object worthy of study -- 'literature' -- is still, I would argue, subjective taste, and questions of selectivity, literary worth, and critical judgment can't be evaded that easily.
posted by Sonny Jim at 10:53 PM on March 10, 2005
the argument in favor of the work's inclusion as a part of the black literary canon would take into account that in a racially oppressive environment, what would be mediocre if written by someone in the dominant ethnicity is exceptional if written by someone in the oppressed ethnicity
What you are proposing, in other words, is a policy of affirmative action. Objectively speaking, the works of these black writers may not be as good as those of their white contemporaries, but they deserve their place in the canon because .. well, because they're black. I have to say, I strongly disagree with this. I think there is a whiff of Victorian paternalism about it ('we have to make allowances for them, poor dears, they haven't had our advantages'), but, more to the point, I think it is a poor argument for revising the literary canon.
Other attempts to revise the canon have rested, fairly and squarely, on considerations of literary merit. Feminist scholars who complained about the exclusion of women from the canon did so because they felt that there were a lot of outstanding women writers out there (Elizabeth Cary, Katherine Philips, Mary Astell ..) who hadn't received their fair share of attention. Similarly, scholars who argued for the inclusion of more working-class writers in the canon did so because they believed that some of these writers (John Clare, for example) deserved to be much better known. In these cases, the scholar's role is to be an enthusiastic advocate for works that he or she admires -- to say, in effect, 'these books are great! you ought to read them!'
Now, the success of this approach has led to the creation of large-scale research projects designed to make available (as it might be) all the works of women writers, or all the works of working-class writers. Indeed, I've been involved with one of these projects myself, the Perdita Project, which aims to create a database of all surviving manuscripts written or compiled by women in early modern England. Inevitably, such projects will include a certain amount of rubbish along with the good stuff. I have no problem with that. The point of these projects, after all, is that they are comprehensive -- they aim to include everything, good, bad or indifferent. But I do have a problem with people who seize on the rubbish and then try to claim that it is work of outstanding literary merit.
To its credit, the Schomburg Project is careful not to make any exaggerated claims about the works it is republishing. (Broadly speaking, its criteria of value seem to be historical rather than literary; e.g. it suggests that researchers might want to search the works by keywords such as 'slavery' or 'family' to find out what these writers had to say on these topics.) But as Scott McLemee points out in his article, some scholars working in this field seem to regard the creation of a black literary canon as an end in itself, not simply a means to an end. (As one of his interviewees puts it: 'some of it was quite boring, but it was worth it even to get one more black woman writer onto the list'.) And I think he is right to express some disquiet about this.
I don't object to the idea of a 'black literary canon' as long as it is made clear that such a 'canon' is not a temple of literary excellence but merely a working tool for scholars. If, in the course of sifting through the canon, we find some works that strike us as exceptionally good, then by all means let's celebrate them. But let's not try to pretend that the mere fact of inclusion in the 'black literary canon' is enough to turn a mediocre author into an exceptional one.
posted by verstegan at 4:07 AM on March 11, 2005 [1 favorite]
What you are proposing, in other words, is a policy of affirmative action. Objectively speaking, the works of these black writers may not be as good as those of their white contemporaries, but they deserve their place in the canon because .. well, because they're black. I have to say, I strongly disagree with this. I think there is a whiff of Victorian paternalism about it ('we have to make allowances for them, poor dears, they haven't had our advantages'), but, more to the point, I think it is a poor argument for revising the literary canon.
Other attempts to revise the canon have rested, fairly and squarely, on considerations of literary merit. Feminist scholars who complained about the exclusion of women from the canon did so because they felt that there were a lot of outstanding women writers out there (Elizabeth Cary, Katherine Philips, Mary Astell ..) who hadn't received their fair share of attention. Similarly, scholars who argued for the inclusion of more working-class writers in the canon did so because they believed that some of these writers (John Clare, for example) deserved to be much better known. In these cases, the scholar's role is to be an enthusiastic advocate for works that he or she admires -- to say, in effect, 'these books are great! you ought to read them!'
Now, the success of this approach has led to the creation of large-scale research projects designed to make available (as it might be) all the works of women writers, or all the works of working-class writers. Indeed, I've been involved with one of these projects myself, the Perdita Project, which aims to create a database of all surviving manuscripts written or compiled by women in early modern England. Inevitably, such projects will include a certain amount of rubbish along with the good stuff. I have no problem with that. The point of these projects, after all, is that they are comprehensive -- they aim to include everything, good, bad or indifferent. But I do have a problem with people who seize on the rubbish and then try to claim that it is work of outstanding literary merit.
To its credit, the Schomburg Project is careful not to make any exaggerated claims about the works it is republishing. (Broadly speaking, its criteria of value seem to be historical rather than literary; e.g. it suggests that researchers might want to search the works by keywords such as 'slavery' or 'family' to find out what these writers had to say on these topics.) But as Scott McLemee points out in his article, some scholars working in this field seem to regard the creation of a black literary canon as an end in itself, not simply a means to an end. (As one of his interviewees puts it: 'some of it was quite boring, but it was worth it even to get one more black woman writer onto the list'.) And I think he is right to express some disquiet about this.
I don't object to the idea of a 'black literary canon' as long as it is made clear that such a 'canon' is not a temple of literary excellence but merely a working tool for scholars. If, in the course of sifting through the canon, we find some works that strike us as exceptionally good, then by all means let's celebrate them. But let's not try to pretend that the mere fact of inclusion in the 'black literary canon' is enough to turn a mediocre author into an exceptional one.
posted by verstegan at 4:07 AM on March 11, 2005 [1 favorite]
What you are proposing, in other words, is a policy of affirmative action. Objectively speaking, the works of these black writers may not be as good as those of their white contemporaries, but they deserve their place in the canon because .. well, because they're black.
No, not at all. You're conflating the canon of works in English deemed to have literary merit with the canon of work by black female authors, which I think is legitimately worthy of examination within its social context. In the second canon, this work would be of extreme scholarly interest because of its authorship and date of publication, not because of its literary merit. This is no different from the project you describe of women's authorship in early modern Britain. Certainly there's rubbish in there. But equally certainly, there is something to be gleaned from any such group of work. I would cower in the face of an accusation of Victorian paternalism, except that there is none going on here. There is, however, a historical environment in which the work must be considered.
I don't object to the idea of a 'black literary canon' as long as it is made clear that such a 'canon' is not a temple of literary excellence but merely a working tool for scholars. If, in the course of sifting through the canon, we find some works that strike us as exceptionally good, then by all means let's celebrate them.
Exactly. And if they're that good, they belong in the general canon, as well. I don't see your point of view as inconsistent with my earlier statements. These books, had they truly been written by a black woman, would merit scholarly study based on her social and racial identity. Since they were not written by such a person, they merit study instead by scholars interested in fiction by women at the turn of the century, or by Martha's Vineyard writers, or within whatever other context the scholar would wish to examine them.
My difficulty is that I studied English as an undergraduate, but history as a postgraduate. It's no longer very easy for me to view works outside of their historical context. Literary merit is indeed subjective, and is a very narrow lens through which to view the documents created by historical human beings.
posted by Miko at 6:29 AM on March 11, 2005
No, not at all. You're conflating the canon of works in English deemed to have literary merit with the canon of work by black female authors, which I think is legitimately worthy of examination within its social context. In the second canon, this work would be of extreme scholarly interest because of its authorship and date of publication, not because of its literary merit. This is no different from the project you describe of women's authorship in early modern Britain. Certainly there's rubbish in there. But equally certainly, there is something to be gleaned from any such group of work. I would cower in the face of an accusation of Victorian paternalism, except that there is none going on here. There is, however, a historical environment in which the work must be considered.
I don't object to the idea of a 'black literary canon' as long as it is made clear that such a 'canon' is not a temple of literary excellence but merely a working tool for scholars. If, in the course of sifting through the canon, we find some works that strike us as exceptionally good, then by all means let's celebrate them.
Exactly. And if they're that good, they belong in the general canon, as well. I don't see your point of view as inconsistent with my earlier statements. These books, had they truly been written by a black woman, would merit scholarly study based on her social and racial identity. Since they were not written by such a person, they merit study instead by scholars interested in fiction by women at the turn of the century, or by Martha's Vineyard writers, or within whatever other context the scholar would wish to examine them.
My difficulty is that I studied English as an undergraduate, but history as a postgraduate. It's no longer very easy for me to view works outside of their historical context. Literary merit is indeed subjective, and is a very narrow lens through which to view the documents created by historical human beings.
posted by Miko at 6:29 AM on March 11, 2005
This reminds me, in reverse, of the hullabaloo over Professor Gates' "outing" of Anatole Broyard as having been passing for white.
posted by Cassford at 6:41 AM on March 11, 2005
posted by Cassford at 6:41 AM on March 11, 2005
Oh by the way, I hereby virtually piss on "the English-language literary canon" -- because I read no other language well enough.
posted by davy at 9:57 AM on March 11, 2005
posted by davy at 9:57 AM on March 11, 2005
Excellent points, Miko, and I think we more or less agree. (Apologies, by the way, if my remark about Victorian paternalism came across as unnecessarily snarky; it wasn't meant to be an 'accusation', just a gentle leg-pull, but on rereading it I can see that it might have sounded a bit confrontational. Anyway, I hope you weren't offended, and thank you for your good-humoured response.) I too made the jump across from English (my favourite subject at school) to history (my degree subject at university), so I can see exactly where you're coming from.
What is going on here, I think, is the same sort of paradigm shift as has already occurred in the field of Renaissance studies. It used to be assumed that the social and cultural conditions of Renaissance England would have made it impossible for women to express their literary talents to the full. Now, thanks to recent research, we know that there were a surprisingly large number of women writers in Renaissance England, some of them very good indeed. Similarly, everyone assumed until quite recently that the social and cultural conditions of nineteenth-century America would have made it virtually impossible for black women to find a literary voice. Now, thanks to the Schomburg Library, we can see that there were a remarkably large number of black women writers in nineteenth-century America -- many more than anyone had previously imagined.
The rediscovery of this black literary canon should cause us to reexamine some of our assumptions. It means that we need to move beyond the idea of black history as simply a history of passive endurance in the face of racial oppression. It also means -- and this is where I take issue with your earlier comments -- that we can stop thinking of the works of black female authors as 'exceptional', or of 'extreme literary interest', merely by virtue of their authorship. We can afford to be more critical in our value-judgements, and acknowledge that while the work of some black authors is very significant, the work of others is frankly pretty negligible.
All of which is, I suppose, simply a long-winded way of saying that the re-categorisation of Emma Dunham Kelly-Hawkins is not, as far as I can tell, any great loss to the black literary canon.
posted by verstegan at 10:08 AM on March 11, 2005
What is going on here, I think, is the same sort of paradigm shift as has already occurred in the field of Renaissance studies. It used to be assumed that the social and cultural conditions of Renaissance England would have made it impossible for women to express their literary talents to the full. Now, thanks to recent research, we know that there were a surprisingly large number of women writers in Renaissance England, some of them very good indeed. Similarly, everyone assumed until quite recently that the social and cultural conditions of nineteenth-century America would have made it virtually impossible for black women to find a literary voice. Now, thanks to the Schomburg Library, we can see that there were a remarkably large number of black women writers in nineteenth-century America -- many more than anyone had previously imagined.
The rediscovery of this black literary canon should cause us to reexamine some of our assumptions. It means that we need to move beyond the idea of black history as simply a history of passive endurance in the face of racial oppression. It also means -- and this is where I take issue with your earlier comments -- that we can stop thinking of the works of black female authors as 'exceptional', or of 'extreme literary interest', merely by virtue of their authorship. We can afford to be more critical in our value-judgements, and acknowledge that while the work of some black authors is very significant, the work of others is frankly pretty negligible.
All of which is, I suppose, simply a long-winded way of saying that the re-categorisation of Emma Dunham Kelly-Hawkins is not, as far as I can tell, any great loss to the black literary canon.
posted by verstegan at 10:08 AM on March 11, 2005
...we can see that there were a remarkably large number of black women writers in nineteenth-century America -- many more than anyone had previously imagined.
Actually there aren't. There are what? 35? While that's more than anyone imagined, it certainly doesn't say much for a century dominated by popular female authors in America, for the most part. And it doesn't seem like enough to show that social and cultural conditions weren't bad--for blacks in general and black women in particular. For most of the century black women were slaves, and 35 is not nothing, but says much about conditions enabling writers to write and get published, and who had those opportunities back then. I think moving to a color-blind examination is very premature and not based in reality--even today.
posted by amberglow at 10:20 AM on March 11, 2005
Actually there aren't. There are what? 35? While that's more than anyone imagined, it certainly doesn't say much for a century dominated by popular female authors in America, for the most part. And it doesn't seem like enough to show that social and cultural conditions weren't bad--for blacks in general and black women in particular. For most of the century black women were slaves, and 35 is not nothing, but says much about conditions enabling writers to write and get published, and who had those opportunities back then. I think moving to a color-blind examination is very premature and not based in reality--even today.
posted by amberglow at 10:20 AM on March 11, 2005
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posted by jepler at 12:14 PM on March 10, 2005