Thursday, September 29, 2011

Journal 7

Slave Poetry


         The element of poetry I am going to analyze is speaker, specifically Frances E. Harper's speaker in "The Slave Mother". The speaker in this poem is someone describing the pains of a slave who has recently had a baby, but "He is not hers, although she bore/For him a mother's pains... He is not hers, for cruel hands/ May rudely tear apart" (1231 lines 17-22). This poem is discussing the practice of slave owners taking the babes of their slaves to also go into slavery since law at the time said that the status (slave or free) of the mother determined the status of the child. 
        People have a tendency to ascribe the feelings of the speaker to the author, but Harper was never a slave. Certainly she was discriminated against, being a black woman at the time was no easy feat, even a free black woman. But the speaker in the poem seems well acquainted with the cruel practices of slavery, some reminiscing, so to speak, on the sound of, "these bitter shrieks/ Disturb the listening air:/ She is a mother, and her heart/ Is breaking in despair" (1232 lines 37-40). The speaker remembers hearing a slave mother torn from her child, and uses the sound of her keening grief to relate it to the audience. The author uses this speaker because the audience intended of this poem were not slaves, but whites and free, educated blacks, and as such they could feel empathy for the slave woman, but their connection would be to an outside party, to witnessing these horrible things, because they have never experienced them.
      

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Journal 6

Caught Between Black and White

From reading Harriet Jacob's Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, I got a new perspective on exactly how convoluted race relations were between blacks and whites in the south prior to the Civil War. It is horrifying to see how people were treated as property, but what is worse was how many White slaveholders used slave women for their own pleasure. 

Jacob's described her parents as being "a light shade of brownish yellow, and were termed mulattoes" (770). Obviously her parents and thus herself had white ancestry. I cannot imagine how someone could have a child with a black woman, and yet let their own child live in slavery. I know that in the 1800's people didn't know about DNA, and how a child is literally half the mother and half the father, but they still understood that it takes two people to make a baby, and that the child has some of each parent in them. How could anyone deny the humanity of the slaves, and yet see proof that they are capable of bringing another child into the world. A child that is obviously the product of a white person as well as a black person.

Jacob's mother was especially caught between two worlds. She was raised with her white mistress, they were both breastfed by her mother, they played together as children, and yet she was forced into a life of servitude. Jacob's says this made her family lucky, that the mistress promised to be kind to her children. And yet, she didn't free a single on of them. This wasn't kindness. If anything being treated so good, and then being forced into a life so horrible, could be worse. Jacob's received kindness from some whites, and then was beaten and told, "Do you know that I have a right to do as I like with you, -- that i can kill you, if I please?" (774). I wonder where exactly whites of the time thought they got this right? It certainly isn't mentioned in the Constitution or the Bible.


Thursday, September 15, 2011

Journal 5

Common Theme

A common theme in both "An Indians Looking Glass" by William Apess, and "Indian Names" by Lydia Sigourney is the prevelance of the Native American names during the time period, even though for the most part the race is starting to die off. Both speak of how Native Americans cannot be forgotten, even if many times prejudiced white men would prefer it to be so. Of course the two authors come from very different backgrounds, William Apess being a Native American from Massachusetts, and Lydia Sigourney a white woman from Connecticut.

Sigourney wrote in her poem, "Yes say, they all have passed away/ That noble race and brave... But their name is on your waters, you may not wash it out" (1-5). Many Americans of the time period believed that eventually there would be no more Native Americans. That the race would vanish, either because they were not "strong" enough to survive in a White Man's world, or because they would be assimilated. But, as Sigourney points out, they were the first people of this land, every single river and mountain was named by them first. Sure, White people renamed many, but how many more still hold their ancestral name?

Apess' piece was from a religious standpoint. He asks questions that I can't help but wonder how White People of the time would have responded to. How would a White Person of the time have answered, "I ask, would you like to be disenfranchised from all your rights, merely because your skin is white, and for no other crime?" (641). Apess switched the tables on everyone, and proved a necessary point, how can White People justify their prejudiced based on something as inconsequential as skin color? He points out merely by writing this piece that Native Americans are still there, that they cannot be ignored, and they deserve fair treatment. 


Monday, September 12, 2011

The Tenth of January

The Cobbler


Asenath's father, known to us readers, simply as Martyn, is a character that the narrator and the protagonist, Asenath, overlook. He is introduced to the reader by way of Asenath snapping at him when he comments on her being "put out" that Dick wasn't joining them for dinner. We quickly learn that Martyn is a shoe cobbler by trade, since he is working on a boot in his debut scene. At first glance, Martyn is a static character, a dependable father with no thoughts of his own, or if he has them they are of little consequence. The author does something interesting however, she gives Martyn a sense of humor. His conditions are so bad that his young and frail daughter is forced to work in a mill, and factories were dangerous at this time. Not to mention he is a widow to a woman who abused their daughter, and most likely him as well, and yet at the same time he can smile in the face of adversity. An instance of this is when he says, "and not a mouthful have you eaten! Find your old father dull company hey? Well, well!” (Phelps) Asenath is getting married soon, and she is no longer the little girl he knew, but he still loves her like she is.

Martyn plays an important role later on in the story when Asenath comes to him for forgiveness and in some sense absolution, she begs him to place his hands on her head and tell her, "God bless you, child, and show you how." Martyn has no religious training, and yet he does as he is told, hoping for the best for his daughter. And in some ways this laying on of the hands, was like a last rite for Asenath, though no one knew this at the time. The story ends with Martyn about to sacrifice his life for his daughter and enter the burning collapsed mill, but he is held back and he gets the last word of the story, "Sene! little Sene!"

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Journal 3

Washington Irving "The Wife"


This writing is interesting because Irving is obviously trying to commend the "softer sex," by saying that women are infinitely suited to comfort men. I think for his time Irving was probably considered to be more liberal where women were considered. It wasn't often that an author would write an entire story devoted to the goodness of women. However, Irving fails at being truly fair to women.

Irving uses the metaphor of an oak tree that is covered in ivy. When the oak is struck by lightening the ivy still holds up the once mighty tree. The man being the oak tree and the woman the delicate, but tenacious ivy. This is a pretty image, and goes along with the saying: "behind every man is a good woman."The only flaw is that the woman has no role of her own, the ivy has no form unless it is the "foliage around the oak."

After the oak metaphor Irving goes on to say, "married men falling into misfortune, are more stimulated to exertion by the necessities  of the helpless and beloved beings who depend upon them..." (Belasco 526). Apparently married men who incur troubles are more likely to try and fix their situation because they have people who depend on them, like their wives. But how many men wouldn't have gotten themselves into trouble if they had treated their wives as equals? Irving's friend, the doating husband, who obviously loves his wife very much, loses his money because, "it was the mishap of my friend, however, to have embarked his fortune in large speculations" (526). I don't know how intelligent this mans wife was, but based off of her reaction of supporting and comforting her husband, she obviously didn't marry him for his money, she wouldn't have cared if he increased his fortune, so she would have, if he had confided in her, told him not to tie his money up in risky business.