The return to Ivanhoe and the playing of Charles Chesnutt’s “Conjure Tales” was not only an incredibly interesting take on the theme of “blackness and inscription” but also a fascinating lens through which to view Chesnutt’s short stories. Much like our previous game of Ivanhoe in Digital Humanities with Melville’s Billy Budd, the window, or lens, through which we view a text can very well rewrite the entire work in our minds. The perspective and trope of the conjurer in Chesnutt’s “Conjure Tales” are paradoxically apparent yet hidden from plain sight.
Named after the conjurer and the conjure woman, one would expect that Chesnutt’s “Conjure Tales” surrounded the mystical character, and dived into his/her perspective with greater frequency. That misconception, however, could not be further from the truth. The title character of the conjurer, is not in fact, a single character at all, but more of a cultural presence, a singular identity that binds those who practice “roots.” In Chesnutt’s tales, the conjurer often acts as the hand of justice, but can just as easily become a trickster, a simple human who uses all in their power to exact their own brand of vengeance. Where, then, does the line between the fallible human conjurer and the mystical conjurer of justice and paid debts fall?
These questions arose in my mind as I began to “play” the role of the conjurer in our game. The conjurer occupies a strange space in Chesnutt’s work, and I must admit that while her character intrigued me prior to the game, she very often took the backseat in each of Julius’s stories, hidden behind the magic or the tragedy. It was only when I began to play her, to formulate my own ideas and concepts of the conjurer based on research and close reading that I began to see her as one of the principle characters of “Conjure Tales.”
Rather than simply reading the text, the game allowed me to dive into it through a more focused entry point, to tear apart words, quotations, and metaphors, and utilize different sources in order to aid in my formulation of the conjurer. It felt like I was taking over the reigns from Chesnutt, picking up from where he left off and informing his work with sources and insights that he might not have had. The best part of playing a novel rather than reading it, is undoubtedly the shift from “absorption” to “interaction.” As a reader, we are focused on tearing apart and deriving everything that we can from a given text. As a player, on the other hand, we are allowed to make jumps that a simple reader cannot, jumps that may be informed by historical documents, scholarship, or sheer creative choice. The reader often does not have this power.
The frustrations in playing a novel follows in the same vein. As a player of a text, one is thus responsible not only for the official narrative but also the arc one wishes to craft throughout the moves. Where will the character end up by the end of the set of moves? Will it mirror where they are in the text? Have I strayed too far or stayed too close to the source material? All these uncertainties arrive when playing a text, and continue to be endlessly frustrating. It is difficult not to second guess one’s design choices, or creative spins on a character, but by virtue of the interface, once a move is sent out into the void, it is completely and terrifyingly permanent.
This is oddly liberating (but no less anxiety inducing, mind). Free writing was the best way that I found to deal with this issue. I would scour for scholarship and sources, and once I found a kernel of something interesting, I allowed myself the space to dive further. Be it comparing a term in a historical document to one in the original text, or using an essay as a departure point and lens through which to view a character’s motivations and actions, I tried to give myself both the freedom and necessary boundaries within which to work.
If I were to play again, I do not believe I would choose a different character. As fascinating as the character of Uncle Julius or Chesnutt would be, I personally believe that the conjurer – by virtue of being paradoxically as amorphous and oddly specific as it is – allows for the greater intersection of historical research and creative close reading. I would however, aim to interact more with other characters, and perhaps even seek to antagonize John and Chesnutt (only a little bit), to goad them in such a way that echoes how the conjurer is both an outside critical force of the peculiar institution and yet still subjected to the wills of the hegemony.
Overall, playing Chesnutt’s “Conjure Tales” provided me with a deeper insight to not only the conjurer herself, but also to the time period, and the oft forgotten “folk” aspect of popular slave narratives. While I wished there was an OOC (out-of-character) function for the game, and an easier way to see linked posts and responses, I do think the stringent and bare-bones aspect of the interface allowed for a more focused headspace.