The Chronicle of Higher Education, which is basically the main trade publication for us academics, has a wonderful ProfHacker blog that features pieces on teaching. They just featured games in the classroom, so I thought I’d share. I’ve never used Twine or Harlowe 2, but if anyone’s interested in exploring this topic, you might build a final project out of a) writing about games, race, and inscription in theory or b) building your own game using Ivanhoe or one of these platforms.
Monthly Archives: February 2018
Global DH and Black Feminism, Risam
I thought this may be of interest to the class. It uses Black Feminist critical theory as a framework for looking at how DH can be globalized equitably to include voices other than the dominant white/Western ones. The Black Feminist theory Risam references has very Gates-ian elements, and the grander mission of the article to search for ways of putting agency in the hands of people (via DH) connects with some guiding questions about inscriptive power we’ve been discussing in class.
Credit goes to Professor Allred for directing me to this publication! If you’re interested in DH it’s a really expansive resource for discussion of what’s going on in that world.
Blog post 2 By Boat and Across Water: the Black Body and Reflections on America
By Boat and Across Water: the Black Body and Reflections on America
In the excerpt from “My Bondage and Freedom” Douglass travels by boat to Great Britain and Ireland. Through the language he uses when he describe this voyage Douglass takes back ownership over his black body. Black folks were taken from Africa against their will and put on slave ships, however Douglass chooses to leave America and travel by boat. On the trip, “All color distinctions were flung to the winds.” Douglass is not an “object,” but he is an “object of general interest.” He gets along with the people on the boat, and he is even traveling with white friends. For Douglass, “one part of the ship to me was about as free as another.” The atmosphere upon the boat is “eloquent,” the “sweetest songs” are sung, and there is “spirited conversation, during the voyage.” Douglass writes that he has “good policy, as with my own feelings.” He asserts himself as a human who has feelings and emotions. Douglass has agency on the trip and in this way he reclaims his black body.
Similarly, through language Douglass breaks out of the bonds, which America has tied on his hands, and writes about America. He is only able to write honestly and deeply about the injustices of America when he is no longer there. The order in which Douglass writes matters. First, he describes the voyage in which he chooses to leave America thus he is able to reclaim ownership over his black body. Following that he writes a letter to Mr. Garrison where he says, “the tears of my brethren are borne to the ocean, disregarded and forgotten, and that her most fertile fields drink daily of the warm blood of my outraged sisters.” The trip across the ocean awoke Douglass’s true and honest feelings about slavery. His brothers and sisters are “borne to the ocean,” meaning America is not their mother but rather a body of water is. This is interesting because water is fluid and you can’t hold it in your hands. It will slip through your fingers.
Douglass will “reproach myself that anything could fall from my lips in praise of such a land.” Compared to the excerpt from “The Souls of Black Folk” Douglass seems to hate slavery more once he is no longer a slave than when he was writing reflecting on being a slave. He then says, “America will not allow her children to love her.” Compared to the earlier statement, where the ocean takes on the mother role for black folks, Douglass could possibly believe that only white people are the children of America. Thus it is white folks comeuppance for slavery that America will not allow her children to love her. Douglass was only able to realize this once he left America and ventured to Great Britain and Ireland by boat and across water specifically.
Sussman interview re: Chesnutt
You might be interested in this audio interview, in which my Hunter colleague Mark Sussman (who’s visiting us Monday and whose article we’ll discuss then) talks to Tess Chakkalakal, author of a new biography of Chesnutt.
S01E05 | Who Was Charles Chesnutt? by C19 Podcast
How do the recovered lives and work of Black writers find an audience? Over the last three decades, Charles Waddell Chesnutt (1858-1932) has become central to nineteenth-century African American literary studies. Scholars have drawn attention to the subtlety, wit, and complexity of his stories, novels, and essays, which were once regarded as pandering and old-fashioned.
I realize that we’ve got an awful lot of work due for Monday, between the “distant reading” assignment, the big chunk of Chesnutt, and the Sussman article. So here’s the deal: I’ll give you an extension of one week on the “distant reading” assignment to let us get up to speed on the Chesnutt. Once we get going with Chesnutt, we’ll do most of our research and prep in class, so the “homework” will be the (I think mostly fun) work of writing out our “moves.” So there’ll be a chance to catch up.
Bottom line: group assignment #1 due Monday, March 5th.
Intersections of blackness and “nerd culture”
For anyone who is a fan of the “nerdy” genres out there (sci-fi/fantasy), I’ve linked a blog I like to read by “Afro-Caribbean-American” writer Phenderson Djèlí Clark, who offers his critique of characters of color, particularly black characters, in movies, shows, and books in the sci-fi and fantasy genres. He tends to be fairly intersectional and writes quite often about women characters of color as well!
Mrs. Auld’s identity crisis
Upon arriving in Baltimore, Douglass was met by Mr. and Mrs. Auld, his new slave owners. In describing Mrs. Auld, Douglass is initially taken back by her appearance describing her beaming “white face.” Prior to even meeting Mrs. Auld, Douglass was so affected by her gentle demeanor — he even goes on to detail how his feelings for his mistress brighten up his “pathway with the light of happiness.” This moment in the narrative is so interesting — Douglass describes his meeting with the mistress in a very poetic, very romantic tone. He describes this moment with a [sort-of] love at first sight element; for this one moment, there is no acknowledged separation between black and white. Rather than being a slaveowner, the mistress is merely a kind woman; rather than being a slave, Douglass is a man of feeling.
At this moment in the narrative, the relationship between Douglass and Mrs. Auld has yet to be tainted by slavery, insinuating that slavery has the ability to inscribe a person with its terror: “… she had been in a good degree preserved from the blighting and dehumanizing effects of slavery. I was utterly astonished at her goodness… She was entirely unlike any other white woman I had ever seen.” The word choice in describing Mrs. Auld and her pre-slavery mannerisms / characteristics is really interesting. She was in a “good degree,” which shows that she was of a certain social rank or class. The reason she was in this “good degree” was because she was “preserved” from the “blighting” and “dehumanizing” effects of slavery. Because her husband is a slaveowner, the use of the word “preserved” is particularly interesting; it shows that the mistress keeps or maintains her original state. In the context of Douglass’s narrative, the wife of the slaveowner would be preconceived to be just as terrible, if not worse than, her husband. Rather than being the wife of a slave owner, without having the stain of slavery, Mrs. Auld was almost immune to the effects of slavery. Douglass describes his experiences with his mistress as if he was describing an out of body experience.
As her husband began to unveil the true practices of slave holding, the mistress settled into her role as the slaveowner’s wife. Douglass recounts slavery’s demonic handle on Mrs. Auld as he completely reverses his discourse on the mistress: “That cheerful eye, under the influence of slavery, soon became red with rage; that voice … changed to one of harsh and horrid discord; and that angelic face gave place to that of a demon.” Slavery gradually becomes inscribed on the mistress, as her affection and kindness dwindled.
The “Specimen”: Observing and Being Observed on
In Frederick Douglass’ Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, Douglass narrates memorable experiences he endured as a slave, from his childhood to the day he successfully reached the northern free states. In the “Preface” of the the narrative, WM. Lloyd Garrison authenticates Douglass narrative since it was believed that Douglass was never a slave: “He was such an impressive orator that numerous persons doubted if he had ever been a slave, so he wrote Narrative Of The Life Of Frederick Douglass” (Frederick Douglass, Douglass). For Douglass, to have a written narrative would indicate that his experiences as a slave were real, that would become part of the American slavery history.
Furthermore, Lloyd Garrison states: “The experience of Frederick Douglass, as a slave, was not a peculiar one; his lot was not especially a hard one; his case may be regarded as a very fair specimen of the treatment of slaves in Maryland, in which State it is conceded that they are better fed and less cruelly treated than in Georgia, Alabama, or Louisiana” (Preface, Douglass). Lloyd Garrison is indicating that there is nothing peculiar in Douglass’ experience and treatment as a slave in Maryland, since slaves in Maryland were treated “kindlier”. I think that Douglass being differently treated than other slaves, is what makes his experience peculiar, or strange, because he is not treated like the slaves that he wrote about, such as his aunt Hester, his little brother, or Demby. Douglass mostly observed those cruelties, and wrote about them in his narrative. He wrote about the savage acts that were physically inscribed in the bodies of his fellow-slaves and that were mentally inscribed in his mind and memories.
In Chapter VIII, Douglass states:
I suffered more anxiety than most of my fellow-slaves. I had known what it was to be kindly treated; they had known nothing of the kind. They had seen little or nothing of the world. They were in very deed men and women of sorrow, and acquainted with grief. Their backs had been made familiar with the bloody lash, so that they had become callous; mine was yet tender; for while at Baltimore I got few whippings. (Chapter VIII, Douglas)
Douglass was constantly observing the savage acts of the overseers, and the slave masters, which can only indicate that Douglass would suffer anxiety not just because he knows kindly treatments, but because he knows of the horrors of slavery in the South that marked his childhood and are written in his first few chapters of his narrative. Furthermore, Douglass notes that his fellow-slaves haven’t seen much of the world, and perhaps nothing. His fellow-slaves are kept ignorant, and in a way is indicating that his fellow-slaves are not observant. What is interesting is that the slaves with there callous back don’t need to write a narrative to tell their sorrows and pain. One has to observer their callous back, like how Douglass did to see the inscriptions of sorrow and pain that have been marked in a slave’s back by their overseers and slave master; something that Douglass didn’t experience until later in his life when Mr. Covey whipped him, leaving his back with cuts.
Also, something to note: while Douglass’ back was not marked or calloused like the backs of his fellow-slaves, his narrative is. And it is not marked in the back, but it is marked at the very beginning, in the “Preface”. Lloyd Garrison, perhaps without noticing, marked Douglass’ narrative in order to legitimize the narrative. Also, Lloyd Garrison undermined Douglass to a mere “specimen”, like something to be observed on and studied.
Discourse and Intellectual Labor in Douglass
The two ideas I’ll talk about are fairly related, so I’ll begin with one that was referenced in a class discussion, which I believe nicely sets up the other point. Discourse is always in the arena, in the playing field of the oppressor. That is to say, any marginalized group, by the very fact of its marginalization, can only communicate in the language and medium of the oppressor. Even language that is meant to subvert or break the power dynamic is doing so in relation to the original power structure. The vocabulary and medium of the oppressor must be used in order for those in power to recognize the argument, movement, group, etc., or else it is not viewed as legitimate discourse. It is why Douglass must use the language, the cultural references, the ideas of white people in order to tell his narrative of enslavement. The fact that Douglass learned to read and write, to “speak eloquently” (which reeks of respectability politics), makes him worthy of telling the story. The dual use of his education and experience, which is told to us by the first two letters by white men, put in context the contradictory nature of the validation of Douglass’s experience. His experience was, in their words, nothing extraordinary, which meant he suffered no more and no less than the average slave, but his education also put him at a superior level. It is the very fact that Douglass is literate that makes his experience validated enough to be worth listening to and believing. If it were not the case, then slavery would have been done away with early on; if the testimony of every slave were just as valid as that of Douglass, then why wasn’t the whole country riled up against slavery? It is because Douglass is using the tool of the oppressor to communicate that white people find him qualified enough to relay his experience to them.
The second idea is that of the continuous need for the black community to partake in emotional and intellectual labor. It is Douglass who has to learn the vocabulary and medium of communication in order to reach white people; white people are waiting for this testimony, a passive expectation that the call to action will come to them, not that they must be the ones to initiate it. This is a narrative that continues to this day, in which black people must still put in the emotional and intellectual labor to explain to people what they are struggling with, to justify why they are suffering. This is perhaps further aggravated by the fact that American history, in the classrooms and textbooks, is white history. Black history in the United States is kept in the margins, so people are taught to be ignorant of the suffering of black people that made this country what it is today. This country was built on black labor and black suffering, yet their history is relegated to the sidelines, and because of how power structures work in the United States, that means black people must continue to explain to their oppressors what has been done to them. Essentially, black people must relive and exhibit their trauma in order to gain even the faintest recognition of their humanity. Douglass, by repeating the story of his life, by putting it on display to be applauded by white people, to be analyzed by white people, is doing the emotional and intellectual work that white people should be doing. His life becomes an artifact to be studied in order to bring awareness to the plight of enslaved black people, when it should be white people, who created the power structure in the first place, who deal with the issues, who should be at the very least aware of what circumstances and life experiences the system creates for the black community.
(I’ve attached this video of a black woman poet explaining, in some ways, how she has to navigate the different vocabulary and media of communication as related to her identity)
Jamila Lyiscott: 3 ways to speak English
Jamila Lyiscott is a “tri-tongued orator;” in her powerful spoken-word essay “Broken English,” she celebrates – and challenges – the three distinct flavors of English she speaks with her friends, in the classroom and with her parents. As she explores the complicated history and present-day identity that each language represents, she unpacks what it means to be “articulate.”
Breaking the Silence of the Black Voice
Throughout time the Black voice has notoriously been pushed aside and forcibly silenced time and time again. In the Narrative Of The Life Of Frederick Douglass and My Bondage And Freedom, Douglass fights against the oppressive nature of society, which fights hard for his voice to remain unheard. While he is enslaved, Douglass is lucky enough to come across a mistress who is willing to teach him how to read. Not many slaves were granted this opportunity. Later in life, Douglass used this opportunity to not only tell his own story, but to help others tell theirs as well.
The most blatant method used to suppress the Black voice was to deny Black bodies the means of inscription. These voices and their stories were never meant to be heard. Douglass actively fought against this notion, first by teaching other enslaved peoples how to read, then by writing his own publication and eventually his life story. In Narrative of the Life, Wendell Phillips writes,
“You remember the old fable of “The Man and the Lion,” where the lion complained that he should not be so misrepresented “when the lions wrote
history.”
Though a simple phrase, it holds great significance. Blacks had never been able to write their own history. In fact, they were never expected to. Douglass not only told his story, but created entire publications before doing so. The lions were finally granted the chance to tell their side of the story.
When he approached his friends with the idea of a publication, he was met with backlash and discouragement,
“I found them very earnestly opposed to the idea of my starting a paper, and for several reasons. First, the paper was not needed; secondly, it would interfere with my usefulness as a lecturer; thirdly, I was better fitted to speak than to write; fourthly, the paper could not succeed.”
Douglass understood the power of inscription, especially for a Black man at that time. He understood the importance of utilizing any means of inscription that he could. His friends could not grasp the importance of his creating this publication, being that their voices had always been heard. His friends attempted to silence him before he could even speak, or in this case, write. Perhaps they feared that their voices would no longer matter. They did not want to live the same reality Black people had lived for centuries. Whether intentional or not his friends walked the same path as so many others at the time who worked to keep the Black voice from telling its story. Had Douglass taken the advice of his “friends”, the world may never have heard what he had to say, which is exactly what was always intended.
The publication was not only for Douglass, but also for the advancement of all enslaved blacks. For many “had been shut up in mental darkness.” He spent his entire life being controlled and silenced by his masters as they attempted to keep him in the same darkness s his peers. To speak out against one’s owner was a sin, sometimes punishable by death. For Douglass, knowing the struggles of being enslaved he knew that no matter how silly it may have seemed to others, the publication was a step necessary for his story to be told. For a Black voice to be behind a successful publication was unheard of. But he knew that his victories were not merely his own. By creating a successful publication, Douglass claimed his authority to eventually tell his story and that of so many others. He proved his ability to break the silence that others fought so hard to uphold.
Authority and history in Douglass’ autobiographies
In The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass and My Bondage My Freedom, Frederick Douglass seeks to perform the radical act of the telling of his own story. We have explored the implications of writing on humanity, and the relationship between writing as a Western means of evaluating humanity. In his works, Douglass does so by controlling the inscription of his own history.
While Douglass seeks to reclaim his narrative, and individualize it, a conflict rises in the framing of his work. In the prefaces to both of the works, we see others—white scholars, and a black editor—attempting to qualify his writing and consequent historiography. Similarly to the publications of Phillis Wheatley, as examined through Du Bois’ criticism in The Souls of Black Folk, despite being structurally, grammatically, artistically, and factually correct, the writing must be provided with the framework to not so much explain the narrative as to explain the phenomenon of a Black writer. These prefaces, while intending to give supplemental background through which readers may approach Douglass’ accounts, minimize his agency by othering him from the accomplishments of his own work. He is forced to strike unfair bargains: while he is extraordinarily smart, that cannot be addressed because then people will think he is an exception to the common assumption that Black people were unintelligent; while his work is incredibly artful, it cannot be taken as too artful otherwise it may obfuscate its historical factuality. These compromises are only faced by Douglass because as a Black man, the white structures dominating writing and publishing the possibility of a dominated person having a story and coherently writing it must be mutually exclusive.
In authoring his autobiographies, it is significant that Douglass permanently claims the stakes on his own history—which by any measure is revolutionary simply in the fact that Black people were assumed inept of human reason. Flusser suggests that history in/and writing is/are inherently linear. To navigate ideas coherently, to explore the progression of ideas and events, and to make conclusions must be done in the progression of a single series. It is in this structure than we can innately understand events and thought progressions, and carry them forward. Douglass exemplifies this behavior, and in doing so, solidifies himself as a rational human—much to the discontent of white powers surrounding him. In the progression of his narratives, specifically in The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, we are not presented with just linear events or just spiraling analyses of his experiences, but rather a progression of life and logical thought throughout. By doing so, both the art of his writing as well as the history told through it become inextricable woven and undeniably human. By seizing the opportunity to tell his story in such a way, Douglass retains his humanity and his authority over his life, rather than forfeiting it to the many people with many perspectives who could seek to tell it later.
Arianna aptly displays a perfect example of claims on narrative and history via Flusser’s theory:
The manipulation of the historical narrative is vital to maintaining the established hierarchy. He writes, “For of all slaveholders with whom I have ever met, religious slaveholders are the worst.” While religion is presumably something that inspires faith, charity, and kindness, it is often used as “a justifier of the most appalling barbarity.” This manipulation of the truth, or perhaps willful blindness to hypocrisy can still be seen today in right wing and conservative hate speech against minorities, immigrants, and the queer community.
To add onto this, Douglass’ discussion of religion in regards to how it is distorted by slave owners, both in the quoted section above and elsewhere, exemplify his grasping ownership of his story and views. Specifically, Douglass clarifies at the end of The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass that it is not religion he is opposed to, but the grotesque malleability of it as practiced by White Southerners through inhumane, un-christian beliefs. He says explicitly, “What I have said respecting and against religion, I mean strictly to apply to the slaveholding religion of this land, and with no possible reference to Christianity proper….” By cementing a factually grounded opinion of religion, he prevents others from twisting and purposefully misconstruing the intent of his writing from it’s intended purpose. His clarification of this matter displays his complete understanding that someone will likely attempt to do this and as a preventative farce, does so to the slaveholding “christians” by (almost preemptively) parodying their hymns. In this, Douglass infringes on a white form of storytelling and, in claiming it for his own, retells its history through his own lens, just as he knows others have and will attempt to do to his.

