Tuesday, 28 November 2017

Paul Gilroy and W.E.B Du Bois on Slave songs




















"Black people singing slave songs as mass entertainment set new public standards of authenticity for black cultural expression. The legitimacy of these new cultural forms was established precisely through their stance from the racial codes of minstrelsy."
"Du Bois places black music as the central sign of black cultural value, integrity, and autonomy." 
- Paul Gilroy, The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness (1993) 

Here, Gilroy (with reference to W.E.B Du Bois' The Souls of Black Folk) expands on a focal theme from our recent study in class. Specifically he defines the musical output of the black community in terms of its capacity to translate authentic and valuable cultural expression, validate the cultural legitimacy of this community within the very communities from which they were marginalized and to  consistently establish their autonomy as a people throughout the various stages of their tumultuous history.

While Gilroy acknowledges that such meanings originate in the slave songs, he also argues that they transcend them and as such, are now applicable to more modern black musical movements, the most notable in recent times being the hip-hop movement beginning in the 1970s. In itself, this comprises an interesting and powerful insight into the role of music for this community as we consider its potential as a political tool wherein such music applies a kind of Joseph Nye-esque 'Soft Power' on its audience, influencing them in their stance and understanding of "black cultural expression". It is also interesting to note that the persistence of black diaspora music (originating with the slave song) as a statement of autonomy is one that parallels the way in which other motifs have been implemented by this community. Consider for example, how the appropriation of Christian principles has been used effectively by such writers as Olaudah Equiano and Frederick Douglass in order to, as with the elements of music described by Gilroy, establish a kind of cultural legitimacy and act as a persuasive statement for their autonomy.

Finally, it is worth noting that Gilroy's statement that "Black people singing slave songs as mass entertainment set new public standards for black cultural expression" is predicated on the idea that, fundamentally, black diaspora culture has been consistently measured and examined in terms of its reception at the hands of the dominant white cultures within which it has traditionally been practiced. Accordingly, Gilroy forces us to reconsider the dominant historical narrative from the black perspective and to understand the specific social structure within which black music has been explored and performed, culminating in such cultural movements as the Harlem renaissance.



 

Sunday, 19 November 2017

'What to the American Indian is Colombus Day?'


When Frederick Douglass asks 'What to the slave is the Fourth of July?' - he exposes the meta-historical naivety of the nationalist and democratic ideologies upon which the celebrations of Indepence day are predicated. He reveals the rife hypocrisy upon which the nation of America was founded and developed, a hypocrisy that was considered superfluous to America's prosperity and, accordingly, a hypocrisy that went largely without contestation by the very cultures responsible for its  existence and centrality to the collective identity of this American Nation.

Douglass posed this poignant question in 1852, and it is now 2017. However, my personal experiences and studies since arriving in Montana have brought me into close contact (personal, academic and professional) with the diverse cultures of the American Indian Nations that live here and have now led me to consider the implications of Douglass' writing for these indigenous communities as they deal with their own sense of identity, visibility and validity in modern America. Even a rudimentary historical understanding of such cultures will reveal the ease with which Douglass' question can be quickly transferred from an enslaved and dehumanised African-American demographic to a marginalised and massacred Native American population.

While the Fourth of July constitutes a celebration of America's independence and by association, a general outpouring of patriotism and nationalist sentiments, the federally-recognised celebration of Colombus day (the second Monday of every October) applauds Christopher Colombus for his discovery of America which ultimately, would culminate in the colonisation of America and its inception as a sovereign power. However, as the Fourth of July was racially selective in its recognition of independence and freedom, so too is Colombus day a projection of the dominant European-derived culture under which their sense of exceptionalism is reinforced while conveniently ignoring the holocaust of North America's indigenous peoples instigated by the eponymous explorer.

While the response from these Native communities to the holiday was and is less visible than that of Frederick Douglass (perhaps an indication of their near-complete expulsion from the dominant society within which they live in the reservation system), it is nonetheless poignant and striking in its similarities with the popularised African-American equivalent. As demonstrated by Douglass, much contemporary Native media uses Colombus Day as an opportunity to contest the dominant narrative of Colombus as the hero and intrepid explorer and insert their own voice into this narrative in order to reveal its artificial nature and to articulate an objective perspective on his discoveries and their implications. Although this issue is vast and almost inexhaustible in its complexity and tendency to segue into further discussions, it is one that remains pertinent to our study of such issues as race in early American Literature. Finally, it is worth noting that several cities and regions across the United States have since declined to recognise Colombus Day for its one-dimensional narrative and its inevitable ability to incite violence against an already troubled national demographic of American Indians. Indeed, such cities as Los Angeles, CA and Albuquerque, NM have since replaced Colombus Day with 'Indigenous People's Day' in an effort to reverse the harm caused by its predecessor and to highlight the dynamic role they occupy in America in the twenty-first century.

Sunday, 5 November 2017

Dickinson & the Materiality of Literature: A personal example




Reflecting on our recent class work on the poetry of Emily Dickinson and specifically, the way in which she presented her work in a way that subverts our understanding of what typically constitutes our engagement with a text - I noticed that in my personal writings, I had actually demonstrated a vaguely similar approach.

The images above show some of my notes written at various times across a week I spent in the downtown area of Las Vegas, NV in August 2017. Although I have not had the time to process these initial thoughts into a series of short stories and articles (which is the final goal), these notes represent my raw reactions to my brief time in the city while also referencing other works of pop culture and literature which have influenced me. Although somewhat obscure, the main subject of my writing here concerned the desert as a landscape, the death of the American dream, the extreme and savage nature of Las Vegas and the way in which an individual might interact with this environment in order to find what they are looking for, both literally and metaphorically.

However, one of my favorite things about writing out these notes in my hotel room, and one of my favorite things about looking back on them - is that they are written on the customized paper of the specific hotel I was staying at. There is something sadistically ironic and pleasing to me about writing a fun critique of the environment I was in while writing it on materials which, in some sense, represent my own subscription to this culture which in my writing, I claim to (partially) oppose.

To me, this recalls Dickinson's notion of the physical materials used to present literature being implicated in the overall meaning that this literature translates to its reader. Strangely, this is not something I had contemplated before having dealt with Dickinson's work in this class - but I have since spent some time thinking this through and considering to what extent my subconscious had enjoyed writing on the hotel paper because of the ways in which it informed my understanding of the notes I had written. Although I haven't formed a cohesive conclusion about how Dickinson's practice might relate to my notes from Las Vegas, I do believe that there is some significance here & I like the idea that this idea of materiality in literature is something that has persisted in the field.