Skip to main content

I'm not original

Image result for beloved images toni morrison


CN: historical trauma
.
.
.
.
descriptions of conditions on trans-Atlantic slave trading ships


I know it's not an original reference by any means. I know everyone has had to read this book at some point in their post-high school academic lives if their universities had any humanities requirement. I know it's super basic to mention it, but this passage from this book so perfectly fits the prompt and reminds me so much of our readings that I have to mention it.

Of course, I'm thinking of the trans-Atlantic slave trading ship passage from the great Toni Morrison's novel, Beloved. 

When I first read Beloved, this passage struck me and totally disoriented me. I had no idea what was going on. I had to read and re-read it several times before I felt somewhat confident that I knew what I was reading and what it meant. However, it wasn't until I read the readings for this week that I understood how it fit into the rest of the novel.

I have only read the book once, and it was a year or so ago, so please forgive me if I miss anything or slightly misrepresent some details. The passage is a sort of discursive, terrified mix of stream-of-consciousness first-person narration and stomach-churning description. The text abruptly switches between describing the agony of sickness, physical oppression, darkness, and fear to talking about the ship itself, the journey that was being taken, flashbacks to where they narrator had come from and rumors they had heard about what was to come. 

The passage (of text) erupts in the middle of the book, seemingly incongruous with the rest of the plot. While the slave ship passage presumably takes place before the abolition of the trans-Atlantic slave trade in 1807*, the rest of the novel takes place in the early Jim Crow era (late 19th century) in Ohio. The passage never mentions any names, dates, or any other kinds of anchor points which one could use to place it in time or in the context of any given person or family. 

Up until this week, I appreciated the beauty of Morrison's writing and the horrendous pain she described in this passage, but I never understood how this floating bit of information fit in with the rest of the novel. Having read Heather Russell's introduction to Critical Paradigms in Race, Nation, and Narratology, I now see this passage in a new light. I can't speculate what was in Morrison's mind when she wrote the slave ship scene, but I can't help but notice how the style of narration she wielded knocked me out of my rigid notions of how stories are supposed to unfold. I almost feel as though she relays this scene as a flash of intra-generational trauma, perhaps a memory from one of Sethe's own ancestors, or even an agonizing memory dredged up from the collective unconscious. In any case, I tentatively put forward the notion that this passage represents what Russell refers to as an opening for ashé to enter through the power of the crossways deity Legba. Surely, it upset the binding notions of sequentiality and linearity that often dominate the epistemological and narratological worlds I inhabit.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Melanie and Melanie: Growing up with Separated Lesbian Moms in the South

I came from a sperm bank, well I came from a vagina, but first I came from a sperm bank. That’s not generally my opener, but we need to make it clear. My moms discovered their sexuality long before I came along in 1992. When I was three, they separated. Gay marriage had not been legalized up to this point, so there was no divorce process involved. However, my mama, Sharon, she gave birth to me, and she wanted full custody of me. My other mom, Sylvia, worked tirelessly to pay for my existence and Sharon’s pregnancy care; she loved me, and I was her child no matter what. They went to court, and Sylvia became one of the first lesbian parents in the state of Texas to receive shared custody of a child that was not biologically hers. In some cases, this still doesn’t always happen, particularly in cases with gay and lesbian parents, regardless of how involved the parent is in their child’s life. “Who do you want to live with?” Flash forward seven years or so, and I’m being given more

Voices from Below

It is, to my mind, an undeniable fact that all areas of academic study benefit from the effective use of narrative. Literature, history, and the arts are natural candidates, yet even the maths and sciences can be enriched by including the human voices of those involved, telling us the story of what they discovered, how they did it, and what it means for humanity. What strikes me, though, is that the voices of those on the ground outside of the ivory tower of academe are still rarely heard, and even more rarely acknowledged and valued. In history, I want to hear more of the voices of those who did not "win," the so-called conquered peoples, the indigenous peoples, those crushed under the heel of imperialism. Some corrective measures have been taken to include these voices in the last few decades, but I know there is mountains more to be discovered. In the field of medical science, I want to hear the voices of those who unwillingly gave up their lives for our knowledge of

Needs more academic lingo

So I heard something funny on a podcast this weekend and it really struck a chord. The hosts, sweet souls that they are, were talking about people who become professors and how they must do it because they really care. After all, it’s not like they’re trying to get famous. I laughed, a lot, because seriously, what academic isn’t trying to make a name for themselves? Becoming faculty means writing and publishing, and getting your name out there while trying to break fresh ground on old material. That’s incredibly clear, given the amount of narrative theory ideas we read about this week.   And the more theories that are created, the more TERMS there are. They’re just everywhere… chrono-logic, fabula, sjuzet, catalyzers.   I mean, I get it, in the basics, but what kills me is how many  different ideas can be created to explain the how’s and why’s of story and narrative. I’ve tried to find a kind of unified theory of narrative theory, and so far, the names t