The first of July, 1967

"My face falls into my glass, the iceberg freezes my nose. I am numb. In a trance, a stupor. Passed out. Death is welcome after the events of this day, the first of July, 1967" (70). Chapter five revels in the ridiculousness and perverseness of Acosta's language; it seems as if Acosta's tone becomes even more disgusting, yet straightforward as the autobiography progresses. Even though Acosta's recollection of the night is blurry and misconceiving, the reader picks up on an extremley vile and demeaning annotation of the events that occured on this day. One can form a clear picture of the events that take place on that night due to the "real" and "uncaring" use of Acosta's language. He describes the cocaine, sex, and fights without haste and enables the reader to formulate a vivid conception on his life. Acosta is extremely straightforward, especially when it comes to making judgements on people. At one point in the chapter, Acosta claims, "I have already noticed the short distance between his right and left eyes. It is my secret way of detecting fags" (68). Acosta is not afraid to give his honest opinion on the people in his life; he deems it necessary for people to know the real "buffalo" and the perceptions he carries about the "real" people in his life. It is also interesting to note the part of the chapter in which Acosta questions to himself "who are these strange people, those foreigners that don't understand me?" (67). He reverses the role he plays in his autobiography, and lets the reader know that just as others think of him as an alien, he too feels as if everyone around him in not normal.
Another point in this chapter which interested me was the vividity and honesty behind his sexual desires and encounters? Could it be that Acosta is unsure of himself in this department or that he feels insecure?

Acosta and Stein

This may be a little bit of a stretch, but certain aspects of TAOABB strongly remind me of Gertrude Stein. Superficially, the two do not share the same grammatical structure, culture of the author, or same relationship between the “autobiographical I” and narrator (among other things). However, the novel’s focus on the everyday highly resembles Stein. Stein bored us with the day-to-day accounts of her life; Acosta also enlightens us with the daily workings of his life, such as his driving, work, and bodily functions. Acosta, though, expands upon Stein’s approach as he shocks us with the extreme and too-much-information with the grotesque descriptions of his body. However, while it may repulse it, it also makes Acosta more real. He is a real person with faults, farts and fantasies; he does not ever try to climb onto the pedestal that Franklin created for himself. Secondly, Acosta name drops a decent amount. While it is not to the extent of Stein, the naming dropping—combined with his repulsiveness and jumping off of his fatness that Rali talks about——functions to further disassociate him from society. How, if any, does this comparison change the way we read the novel and view Acosta?

Another interesting side note is how the voice of Acosta's shrink, Dr. Serbin, in his head is a major supporting character in the story. But, can he actually be considered a character if he really functions as a way for Acosta to analyze, and discuss his situations in his own head?

Acosta - a brown buffalo?

Throughout the book the author classifies people based on their race, sexual orientation and nationality, making those things seem the most important features of a person. He even classifies himself right from the title - Brown Buffalo. He is big and brown and that is all we need to know about him. On page 86 he explains the reason for naming people: "The name was not meant as an insult. It was simply a means of classification... Everyone in the valley considers skin color to be of ultimate importance. The tone of one's pigmentation is the fastest and surest way of determining exactly who he is." The irony of those words is that they are right after he describes the difficulty others have with classifying him. Some considered him Mexican, others - easterner and so on. The only thing that was true for all those "classifications" was that nobody classified him as the same as themselves. The Mexicans thought he was easterner, the easterners - that he was Mexican. It seems that they were naming him not to classify him for who he is but rather for what they don't want to be. Acosta seems to be doing the same thing - he only names people with names that don't refer to himself - fag, jew, etc. So what I was wondering is whether by naming himself a brown buffalo he is not just disassociating himself from brown fat people?

America As A Symbol

In our last class, we discussed the idea of Acosta's inner self manifesting to plague his outer self. Because Acosta's mind is in chaos, the life he lives must also be indicative of this same chaos. However, taking a closer look at the more tangible aspects of Acosta's life, it is possible that food may be a symbol for America or those naive, untrue ideals of Acosta's life that he simply cannot accept.

The food that Acosta eats while living in America is on one hand tastes "good" and cheap both characteristics that satisfy Acosta's short term goals. However, in the long run, this same food is damaging Acosta's stomach, and Acosta is complicit in self-destruction by continuing to eat this food. In many ways, this self-destructive cycle is in many ways indicative of the American dream. For many foreigners, the American dream at first glance is the ideal opportunity: to live in a country where your pay is simply is based on merit. However, once many immigrants arrive within America, they find their dreams shattered, and due to the costs of arriving in America, they are unable to move out. And in the end, Acosta's vomiting represents his own inability to accept these American ideals.

Acosta's Childhood

I think that is is amazingly telling that Acosta's father was in the Navy. Essentially being an illegal alien, he pledged his allegiance to this country, one that has not particularly pledged their allegiance back. Oscar and his brother woke up daily to the Star Spangled Banner but now Oscar doesn't feel as though he belongs in the country at all. He is constantly asked what nationality he is but no one suspects Mexican American, unless they are referring to him in a derogatory tone. Acosta's writing portrays an unhappiness with who he is in drastic overstatements, and brutal honesty. For someone who at one time had patriotism engrained in his daily routine, it seems that Oscar has made an abrupt about-face. 

Drugs and the Buffalo

Acosta seems to have a bit of a preoccupation with controlled substances; like most things in his life, he seems to overdo them until they really cripple him. Despite their very physical consequences, Acosta seems to suggest that they might have more to do with symbolism than can be seen at first glance.

First, of course, one of his friends is name Maryjane, which most people know is a street name for marijuana. He also converts to being a fan of Dylan's shortly after first using marijuana.

Drugs take on a more significant role after he tries LSD, and subsequently consumes spiked champagne from Ted Casey, who becomes Owl after Acosta suffers from many grim hallucinations. The drugs' significance arises from the similarity between the descriptions of Acosta's drugged life and his clean life. Particularly of interest are the colors of the restaurant at the beginning of Ch. 5: "I tip-toe into another world of fat-red carpets, violet tablecloths, dazzling chandeliers, white camellias, red roses and purple spidermums" (60). He uses outlandish colors and bright language to communicate the visual sensuality of his environment. He could either be viewing the luxury world as an imaginary acid trip for the average man, or he is insinuating that the Owl is a fraud in the way he behaves expecting the high-life. Either way, Acosta is noting that his the new life he's trying to form is very disillusioning!

The Colors of a Brown Buffalo

Acosta's use of language, style and imagery in his autobiography is most often blatantly grotesque and in your face, making the book at times difficult and uncomfortable to read. Yet, amidst the majority of Acosta's dominant language, I started noticing a more subtle use of imagery in the descriptions of color. Regularly throughout the text, Acosta describes things as being either red or green At first, the recurrence of such colors are easy to dismiss; however, the fact that they are so frequently repeated indicates an underlying significance.
We are first introduced to these colors on the first page. In his second sentence Acosta describes his "redden" ears and "green bile" (12). After this point, these colors appear more frequently than others. For example, we hear about his "green plymouth(16)," "green-walled toilet(25)," and the "green hair" he imagines while on drugs (39). Additionally, Acosta describes' "red ink (14)," "red velvet drapes (24)," and "red carpets (41)." Obviously, these descriptions area few among many, but they nonetheless raise the question about why Acosta chooses to describe objects in these colors and/orwhy he notices these colors above other? What
is their significance?
Considering that these colors appear in his autobiography, it reasons to follow that these are used to express some aspect of himself and his personality to the reader. For instance, "green" is generally associated with greed and selfishness. We discussed in class the ways in which Acosta comes off as selfish, self-serving, and vain. His obsession with himself, his body, and his situation is what leads the reader to gain an impression that he does in fact possess such undesirable attributes. Yet this is something that Acosta also recognizes. He admits that he didn't decide to be a lawyer in order to help people; it was more for the meager amount of money he made. Thus, the recurrence of green imagery serves to further support this aspect of his personality to the reader.
Furthermore, the use of red imagery can signifiy anger. This is a trait that can certainly suit Acosta, as is evident by his use of harsh language, cursing and in the way he talks about himself. Yet in addition to anger, I think red could also be an indication of his mania. Like a bull driven wild at the sight of red, Acosta is living an untamed and manic life. He is impulsive (which we see when he throws out his degree) and uncontrolled (evident in his drug use and lack of will to control his health.) The flashes of red imagery that appear in the text, which may startle or suddenly catch the reader's eye, provide him/her with a sense of what this manic life is like--one that is unpredictable and loud.

Acosta- powerful or weak?

I chose not to read the introduction to Johnson's "The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man" and missed an important detail to the book- that it is not, in fact, an autobiography. So I chose to read the introduction to Acosta's "The Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo", which gave me a strong impression of Acosta's character before reading his autobiography. I expected a strong, powerful individual- a "dangerous thug" who was involved with the "politics of confrontation" as "the main spokesman for a mushrooming 'Brown Power' movement" (5-6). We saw in Franklin's autobiography an example of how the author has the ability to only highlight certain aspects of his or her life. Franklin chose to show mainly the positive aspects of his personality. Acosta does not speak of himself as Thompson does; instead, Acosta portrays his negative self-image through the early incidents in his autobiography. Acosta begins with criticisms of his physical appearance and makes his way to the toilet where he tries to puke. Acosta's references to disgusting behaviors such as "a belch of brown water" (13) intimate his inner feelings toward his own skin color, as he describes himself a "brown buffalo". Acosta's silence appears odd after reading that he was a great spokesman. Acosta talks about his aversion to certain cases that would involve a second party lawyer to argue. I would classify this behavior as aversion of confrontation, so how does this same person become so involved with the "politics of confrontation"? I wonder if he undergoes some kind of transformation during some point in the book or if he had somewhat of a dual identity of personal and political.

Oscar Zeta Acosta

Vast Veil

W.E.B Du Bois casts a literary veil over his words in order to promote the congruency between the topic and his style of writing. Du Bois compels the reader with such phrases as, "he would not bleach his soul in a flood of white Americanism" (5); Du Bois clearly feels some form of prejudice towards the white Americans. When I read "Of Our Spiritual Strivings" the image of a new being becoming revealed from under a veil constantly raced through my head. Du Bois brings up the fact that the role of the black man during that time (in America)was to integrate two identities at the same time: one who is seen through the eyes of everyone else and the other who is created through their own "Africanism". Du Bois clearly does not want to seem completely opposed to the white culture in America; instead, he wants to make it known that African-Americans merely want to be able to have their own identity, whilst keeping "white-american" culture ever-present. At the same time, in order to bring about this new identity in which the black man bring out his/her own better and truer soul, one must be able to promote the education of that man. I found that the most interesting revelation in Du Bois' essay was the mentioning of the Negro as being the "seventh son"; it is almost too direct and straightforward to mention, but Du Boise clearly understands that African-Americans themselves realize that they are being watched at all times: for being different. I thought Du Boise's account was incredibly upfront and without regret. Du Boise's character and personal creedence shines throughout the entire essay. At the same time Du Boise understands that freedom may never be achieved. Does anyone else get this pessimistic approach out of his work?

Johnson's Tendencies

As the novel progresses, and Johnson begins to deal more openly with the so-called "Negro Question," he has a distinct tendency:  he introduces characters as plot devices, characters who exist only to give some series of monologues enunciating their position.  It's similar, in a way, to Philip Roth, whose characters often do the same thing.  I find it a little more ham-handed in Johnson's case, though, because the characters themselves often have no real role to play in the story; they exist only as a vessel from which their particular position on the "Negro Question" is espoused.  On the one hand, I can't blame Johnson; his way is decidedly more eloquent and concise, in terms of language, than it would if he made more of an effort to integrate the sentiments he wishes to bring to life into the story of the narrator's life.  But the technique seems to violate one of those immutable laws of writing: show, don't tell.

anonymity

Anonymity is a recurring theme throughout the "autobiography."  To start, James Weldon Johnson published The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man anonymously.  Neither the publishers nor the readers knew who wrote it or exactly who the book was about.  After all, the title only describes an "Ex-Colored Man," making the main character extremely vague.  The so-called autobiography could have been fiction or nonfiction (although we now know that it is indeed fiction).  

A second form of anonymity manifests itself through the recognition of people by their appearance.  Not once is a person's name mentioned throughout the book.  Most references to people are through their occupation, looks, or clothes.  The main character names the big kid in class "Red Head" because he first sees his "face full of freckles and a head full of very red hair" (p.7).  "Shiny" comes to be because the main character notices his "sparkling eyes" and "glistening white teeth."  His father is remembered because "his shoes or boots were always shiny, and he wore a gold chain and a great gold watch" (p.9).  The people the main character meets on his journey south are fittingly called "the conductor," "the landlady," "my new friend," etc.  Why does the narrator dance around giving people real names, real identities?  Is he saying that the message in the novel is more important than its characters?  If he actually did give exact names and places would the events seem isolated and circumstantial, detracting from the themes the author is trying to get across?

Lessons in Music and in Social Nomrs

Like other people who wrote about music, I also feel that it is one of the central ideas in the book. The narrator had natural musical skills which his mother decided to enhance by arranging for him to take lessons. Later in the book, when he goes to the "Club" for the first time and hears ragtime music, he mentions that the player hadn't had any lessons and was a natural musician, just as he used to be. He wonders what would have happened to the player had he been trained and comes to the conclusion that he would never had accomplished anything great. You need to be "unpolished" and free to be a great musician. That reminded me of the narrator, as a child, how he was "trained" to feel black and to see himself as different from white people. He could never again be free because he has accepted the norms of society just as most musicians accept the right way to play music. That made me think how we are only true to ourselves if we haven't been taught how to be what other people expect us to be. Which brings me back to something the narrator said about his music before he started taking lessons: "I remember that I had a particular fondness for the black keys." I thought this was interesting because at this point he didn't know he was black, and he had an attraction to the color. The "I remember" part makes it sound like a distant nostalgic memory of the time when he still hadn't realized the negativity associated with that color, the time when he was free to enjoy life and the variety it offers without worrying about artificial labels put by society.

More on Music

Stemming from Casey's post, I would like to add another layer and perhaps another perspective on what music represents to Johnson. Obviously, music has been the one consistency in Johnson's hectic life; he is able to play, teach or listen to music everywhere he goes. It is one aspect that he can carry with him whether he is "passing" as white in white society or accepting his black heritage in the south. The fact that music is so consistent and adaptable for Johnson demonstrates that it acts as the bridge between his black and white sides. When he is playing music, he does not have to choose between his races. As he stated while he was listening to ragtime, "One thing cannot be denied; it is music which possesses at least one strong element of greatness; it appeals universally" (73).
Perhaps this is the reason Johnson prefers to play music without much structure. He admits he was not a very good accompanist because his "ideas of interpretation were always too strongly individual" (19). Instead of basing his talent on "brilliancy of technique" he prefers to interpret music on his own and admits that he "always played with feeling" (18). The idea that music should be unstructured (in Johnson's eyes) further enhances the notion that music is universal. By refusing to accept the rigid form of music theory, Johnson uphold the flexibility of his art and the fact that he has the right to portray the music piece as he sees fit. Furthermore, this idea of music illustrates important aspects of race through Johnson's eyes. For him, race is equally as fluid. One moment, he can seem white; the next, he is black. However, these distinctions of are only made if one chooses to make them. One could just as easily see all colors as variations of the human race. Thus, much like music can be highly structured if it is desired, distinctions of race can also be closely drawn. However, similar to how Johnson believes that ultimately it is the person who interpret music as they wish, it is also ultimately the person who makes distinctions on race.

Red

Throughout the book, Johnson repeatedly uses colors to describe various people at various levels. The color "Red" in particular is used, and thus far it appears that he is using it as a symbol of all that is bad in the white world.

First, of course, there is Red the Irish child in his class. He's a little dim, and exhibits the then-stereotype of Irish corruption and greed in becoming a banker through family connections; it sounds like he is part of a mob family, in all honesty. In short, he uses red to characterize a certain kind of corruption (one in which he partakes, for a while).

Then, when our hero goes to Atlanta, he says it's, "...a big, dull, red town" (37). Again: "This dull red color of that part of the South I was then seeing had much, I think, to do with the extreme depression of my spirits-" (37). Johnson gives the narrator a negative connotation with the red color of the dirt (mentioned on p. 38), which is entirely foundational to the city, both literally and metaphorically. It is not coincidence that this is where he falls victim to dishonesty. Clearly red is a warning sign to Johnson.

Racism - Applicable to Both Society and Johnson?

As I read more of the book, one of the more striking aspects of the book is not necessarily the racism exhibited by the American people but the racism of the main character.

Throughout the book, although the main character is half-black, he seems to look down upon those African-Americans around him. When referring to the widow's black companion, he calls a "surly, black despot." When referring to his first encounter with Atlanta, he says, "the unkempt appearance, the shambling, slouching gait, and loud talk and laughter of these people aroused in me almost a feeling of repulsion." These kinds of moments seem pop up throughout the book, but I'm not quite sure how to interpret these moments.

Is this a hidden racism that belies his views - views that seem to echo those of W.E.B. Dubois? Is the subtle racism that the main character exhibits inevitable for the time that he lives in or to be expected considering his privileged upbringing?

If the main character is a subtle racist, does that mean his views about the state of the African-American's struggle for equality become delegitimized? I am concerned about what seems to be Johnson's racism; however, I am still reluctant to discard his views as the product of privilege and derived from an ability to look down on those who are less gifted than him.

Music and Books

Within "The Autobiography of an Ex- Colored Man" the author notes that his life was split between music and books. With his music, he practiced at home on a piano that was sent to him by his white father. During his performances to white audiences he received standing ovations, calls for encores, and was appreciated for his talent. When his father first comes to visit him and his mother, she calls on him to perform. She wants to show the man who fathered her child that she's dong a good job raising him, and that he was talented at something.

Books are a much more personal and private aspect of his life. He read in his home, and in his library. What he read in books allowed him to talk to his mother about being Black and gave him courage to ask the questions he couldn't ask anyone else. His heroes changed based on the books he read, and the books he read gave him the idea that he could be an exceptional Black person. 

These two aspects of his life correlate to the two races he identifies with, and how he acts with each one. The pianist side of him corresponds with the white half of him in that it is public, it is something that he wants to show others. Playing the piano is something he identifies with in front of others, and at times in the book the main character tries to identify with the white people in the book. His more secretive reading corresponds with the black side of him, in that he is empowered to change, but does so with his mother, and not in public. He watches Shiny give a speech in front of white people and feels excited about it, but still questions why they clapped for a black person. 

The two sides of his life don't necessarily conflict in public as they do in the thoughts of the main character. His inner warring or contemplation of his race and who he should identify with is a main focus of the book.

Racial identity

The scene at the end of chapter one and its implications, while early in the novel, is nonetheless a major turning point in Johnson’s life and the story. Johnson first realizes that he was colored on that pivotal day at school. He states that “From that time I looked out through other eyes, my thoughts were colored, my words dictated, my actions limited by one dominating, all-pervading idea which constantly increased in force and weight until I finally realized in it a great, tangible fact” (14). Johnson imposes a self-isolation when he realizes he is part black. It is interesting that, while he is not for the most part treated differently by his friends or classmates, he nonetheless begins to identify with black culture.

This scene is very similar to the pivotal naming scene in Our Nig. Jack classifies Frado, who was fair skinned mulatta, definitively as a black individual when he refers to her as “Our Nig.” Likewise, in The Autobiography of an Ex-colored Man, it is the school teacher, not the similarly fair skinned Johnson, who performatively names him as colored. It is ironic that it is a white individual each time that classifies the characters, once and for all alienating them from white society. These moments for the characters pivotally change their lives and change the way others, and they themselves, see themselves. Had this seen not occurred so early and Johnson found out later in life about his heritage, would the story have possibly been along the lines of The Autobiography of an Ex-white Man? I think this event early in Johnson’s life allowed him to fully immerse himself in black culture, and grow into the proud character he is in the story (well, thus far up to chapter V). What do you think about this “naming” scene, and the further implications it has on Johnson’s life? And what does this say on a deeper level about the institution and idea of race? Is race a societal invention or a natural characteristic? Is race more about inherent color, culture, self-identification or a combination of several?

Pity and Love

"Pity and love know little severance. One attends the other" (8).
Somebody once said that the border between pity and love is as thick as a sheet of paper. Despite her ill reputation about her past relationships, Jim decides to marry Mag Smith because he pitied her so much. Their daughter Frado experiences such pity close to love by a number of people, especially Jack. The author clearly states that Jack pitied her so dearly: "How Jack pitied her!" (21) Throughout the book, Jack protects and stands for Frado almost as if he is in love with her. When Frado escaped from Mrs. B, Jack says "'I shan't eat my supper till I find her" (27). Although he seems to love his mother, he never hesitates to confront her whenever she abuses Frado.

Is this strong feelings of Jack simply pity? Or is it love confused with pity?Or is it merely another form of control, just as harmful as how Mrs. B treats her?

Devils?

As I read “Our Nig” in its entirety it became more and more obvious to me that Harriet Wilson’s attitude towards writing the novel was directed at trying to force the reader to understand the obvious and ever-present racist sentiment that presumably all the characters have (even the black personages). At one point Mag snarls, “Who’ll take the black devils” (11); the fact that Mag is the mother of those ‘devils’ entails that she carries a serious racist perspective on society. Mag seems to hate herself for having done what she has done (Marrying Jim); she hates herself for having put herself that low. Harriet reveals the fact that her mother Mag has lived as an outcast for years. At the part where Jim proposes to Mag even he claims that a white heart in black skin is better than the opposite. At this point in history it has become customary or even inevitable to associate blackness with evil/ the devil. One has to ponder if Harriet is truly hurt by what she is writing, or if she is simply used to the fact and has decided to write about it for the sake of writing?

Nagging Nig

Using our discussion as a jumping off point, I began to read Ch. 8 with a "Nig vs. Frado" perspective in mind. Not only does Wilson use Nig when she is being discriminated against, but she uses it whenever she follows a rule. Aunt Abbey says, "Well, well, Frado..." and not a paragraph later, it states, "Nig went as she was told..." (81). Even when she obeys those that are not racist towards her, she is noted as Nig over Frado. In reference to her search for her soul, Wilson writes, "Nig was in truth suffering much..." (86). Though society indicates that a darker skin lacks a "white" soul, Wilson shows it only as a device of her overlords, and that Frado can pursue the Bible with freedom and knowledge of her spiritual self. The Nig-Frado duality runs very deep into the book, and I am anxious to see how deep it goes.

Colors

Colors obviously play a major role in people's perception of Frado. She is treated as a slave just because of the color of her skin. So I really liked the symbolism in the scene with James' burial. People were whispering about Frado and how she was not dressed appropriately. She mourned no less than anyone else at the burial and had no less right to be there, but the others failed to see that because of the color of her ribbon. This time, though, she ignored the remarks because "she had a sorrow with which such were small in comparison" (Wilson, 55). She realized that there are things much more important than people's opinions, and that nobody had the right to tell her anything just because they didn't like the color she was wearing.

Jane's Marriage

While reading "Our Nig," I was intrigued by the story telling of Jane's selection of a spouse. The dilemma Jane faced is described over the course of six pages, a rather drawn out scene compared to most in the text. The amount of time devoted to talking about Jane's marriage made me question its significance and why it is important to Frado.
The cause of the mini-crisis presented in the text is due to the necessity for Jane to decide between two potential spouses: Henry, the man imposed on her by her mother, and George, the man she really loved. Unexpectedly, Frado seems confused that Jane even has such a choice because Jane is handicapped and chronically ill. Perplexed, Frado questions, "Was it strange she should seem a desirable companion, a treasure as a wife" (55)? Perhaps this is why the scene is so drawn out.
By writing about this occurence, Frado (and the reader) grows to understand that a white girl who is handicapped and dependent on others is more valued in society than a hard working black person. Despite her physical limitations and the restrictions on freedom due to those limitations, Jane still has the privelege of choice. In support of Jane's right to marry whom she wants, Mr. B says "A free voluntary choice was of such importance to her health. She must be left free to her own choice" (60). It is as if to say that even though Jane essentially is not free due to her physical limitations, her sense of freedeom can still be upheld by simply allowing her to choose. It is this choice that Frado does not have, and in some ways, does not believe herself to deserve. Though she is physically and mentally strong, her lack of choice in her life enslaves her.
In consequence, this raises questions of whether or not Frado would be perceived as free if she were given some choice of where to live, what to do. Even if she had to finish all the same chores, would she be considered freer if she got to choose when and how to do them? If she were given a choice between which family she worked for, even if conditions were similar, would this represent a higher degree of freedom?

Perception vs. Reality

Throughout the book, Harriet Wilson reminds the reader of a certain kind of duality associated with her existence: "Our Nig" vs. Harriet Wilson and "Freedom" vs. "Slavery". For me, the juxtaposition of these separate ideas seems to exemplify the idea of perception and reality.

On one hand, the name "Our Nig" was one that was forced onto Frado. Although the name is dehumanizing and in no way representative of the kind of person Frado truly is, the name weaves its way into the vernacular of the Bellmont household. On the other side, Frado and her identity have to compete with the idea that she is the Bellmont's "Nig". Although Frado lives in the so-called "free North", we see very clearly that she is practically forced into slavery. In addition we also see an inherent contradiction between the reality and perception of race. Frado is born light enough to the point where she might be mistaken for a white - delegitamizing ambiguous titles such as black and white. However, Frado is forced to tan in the sun only to reinforce the false misconceptions of Mrs. Bellmont.

With the juxtaposition of these two ideals, Wilson is able to show the hypocrisy of white society's perceptions by pointing out her own reality or by pointing out the reality of another "Nig".

innocent truth

Last class I forgot to bring up one of my favorite dialogues in the book.  It is a discussion between James and Frado as he puts her to sleep.  Frado asks James who made her, him, and the rest of the family.  Her concluding questions include: "Did the same God that made her [Mrs. B] make me [Frado]?" and "Why didn't he make us both white?" (p.28-29).  I like how Harriet E. Wilson brings up such deep (and at the time controversial) thoughts in such an innocent manner.  Frado uses simple logic in recognizing the fact that both blacks and whites are equally human.  In doing so, she cleverly relates herself and Mrs. B as creations of God, who is indisputable to the pious.  This solidifies the justification of equality through both morality and religion.  In asking why God did not make both Frado and Mrs. B white, Wilson surfaces the idea that a person cannot escape the life he or she is born into.  While Mag made choices that shaped her lonely life, Frado's life was determined solely by the color of her skin.

Epiphany

One particular moment sticks out at me as I finish the novel: the moment when, about to be beaten again without cause, Frado commands Mrs. Bellmont to "Stop," saying, "strike me, and I'll never work a mite more for you."  It seemed to me that this would always have been a legitimate threat, as Frado is a free woman, despite her lower class status.  I could understand that this was simply an avenue that she hadn't explored until this point, a thought so emboldened and outside the realm that it took Frado time to conceive of it.  But in my view, this could have been the end of the book (or the end of the story in real life, for that matter).  Wilson writes on the next page, "Thus passed a year.  The usual amount of scolding, but fewer whippings."  Why does Frado endure any whippings at all?  It is clear that Mrs. Bellmont needs her more than she needs Mrs. Bellmont.  She is in a position to resist the whippings, the kind of treatment that characterized her time with the Bellmonts to that point.  This should have been the end of such treatment, and, in essence, the end of the story, but it wasn't.  Frado in fact spends a good deal more time with her tyrant, and we never again see an instance when she herself refuses to be beaten.  Is this simply the result of a damaged psyche?  Or is there some other pragmatic concern that prevents her from acting that I just missed?

Mr. and Mrs. B

Although Mr. B does not agree with Mrs. B's treatment of Frado he does nothing to stop her, which, in my opinion, is just as bad. Mr. B treats Frado like a pet, occasionally putting his foot down when he feels she is being unnecessarily mistreated. He sends Frado to school because he feels she should be educated, but does not stop Mrs. B from withdrawing her from the school. He tells Mrs. B that Frado should not be beaten but leaves the room when she is about to be scolded. Because Mr. B is a white man living in the north one could assume that he is against slavery, and Frado is indeed a free person. However her living conditions are abhorrent and Mr. B tries, only sometimes, to make her life better.

Frado never mentions Mr. B as someone she can go to for help like she does Aunt Abby and Jack. Mr. B is of little help to Frado because he cannot stand up to his wife. He lets Mrs. B be in control even past his own objections. Jack and Mary have a similar relationship. Although Jack will speak up for Frado in the presence of his mother when Jack is with Mary he refers to her as "nig" and almost reverts in behavior. Mary and Mrs. B seem to have holds on their male family members and can control how Frado is treated.

Mag Smith - Fact or Fiction? Black or white?

I would like to bring up a discrepancy I have found regarding the race of Frado’s mother in Our Nig. In the novel, Frado laments on white Mag Smith’s (her mother’s) fall from white society. She not only had and lost a child out of wedlock, but married a black man named Jim with whom she bore Frado. “She was now expelled from companionship with white people; this last step−her union with a black−was the climax of repulsion” (11). Mag struggled with her biracial marriage and acceptance; she was ignored by the whites but not accepted by blacks either. Mag’s struggle with finding her identity between the two cultures reminds me of Mary Jemison’s similar struggle between acceptance in white and Indian society. Like Mag, Jemison was white, but lived in Indian society where she had a biracial marriage and mixed heritage children. Neither Mag nor Mary ever fully belonged in or completely identified with either of their two conflicting societies.

The cruelties of white society also plague her mulatto daughter Frado in the novel. Frado knows her mother was white and was herself light mulatto colored as a child, but seems to identify herself with black society. Mrs. B furthers this societal subversion with Frado’s slave-like role and physically tries to make Frado appear darker. “She was not many shades darker than Mary now; what a calamity it would be ever to hear the contrast spoken of. Mrs. Bellmont was determined the sun should have full power to darken the shade which nature had first bestowed upon her as best fitting” (22). Frado laments to James, “Because [God] made her white, and me black. Why didn’t he make us both white?” (29). Frado struggles with the idea of race and her place in society as a free, yet still enslaved, black woman.

However, fact and fiction meet in the Introduction to the story. From historical evidence, the Introduction asserts that Mag Smith (short for Margaret Smith) was believed to be the real name of Hattie Wilson’s mother. Historical records found in the newspaper the Boston Patriot report on the death of Margaret Ann Smith. The report starts, “Margaret Ann Smith, black, late of Portsmouth N.H....” (xxvIII). The historical record states that Wilson’s mother was black, as opposed to white in the story. This would change Wilson's race, and if the character Frado mirrors her life, would change Frado’s race from mulatto to black in the novel. Would this change how Frado would have seen herself and her struggle with white society in the novel? Also, the extent to which Wilson’s actual life is mirrored in her fictional novel is raised. Was Wilson’s mother historically black, or were historians wrong in identifying Margaret Ann Smith as her mother? If Wilson’s mother was really black, why is Frado’s mother white in the novel? To what extent then, could this fictional story be considered Wilson’s autobiography?

NYT Article: "Our Nig"'s Legacy

For Some, Uncertainty Starts at Racial Identity

Pay close attention to the language interviewees use to discuss Sen. Obama as a "mixed race" person who is "neither/nor."

Time

The theme of time plays a significant role both the novel and the movie. Dylan obsesses the about the concepts of time, especially the interplay between the past and present, and how they have affected and inspired him. Dylan’s heroes are all from the past. He idolizes all the John Henry’s, cowboys, and other good old American heroes in his folk songs, and is most inspired by Woody Guthrie. Dylan describes, “The madly complicated world was something I took little interest in… All this was current, played out and in the open” (20). The “this” refers to Dylan’s repertoire of past inspirations—Woody Guthrie, John Henry-type heroes, cowboys—and how their messages are universal and appear in the present. However, Dylan is very aware of his present surroundings, and constantly gives the reader a background of current events to put his story and actions into context. He talks of the Kennedy, King and Malcom X assassinations and how it affects him as a father (114). He mentions Castro and Cuba, Vietnam and the student reaction in 1968, and even the Johnny Cash radio show. Dylan found a balance between the present and past in his life and music; his autobiography chronicles pop culture and Americana from the 50’s onward (maybe the reason he titles his novel The Chronicles: Volume One? Long stretch I know...)

I’m Not There furthers this relationship between the past and present. One of my favorite lines about time in the movie was when the hostess told Woody to “sing about his own time.” It contradicts Dylan’s original focus solely on the past, and explains the inspiration for some of his musical transitions. The characters in the story are also living in different time eras and all represent different times in their lives. They are related in a way that transcends or deals with time. For instance, Billy, who lives back in old Western Times, meets up with 11 year old Woody Guthrie at Riddle (Dylan’s hometown). The old personality and childhood personality meet in the same time era, both in the past. Another examples is how Robbie makes his break into the acting scene by playing Jack and the mysticism surrounding his turn to religion. This interrelation between the characters scrambles any logical structure of time. What is Dylan trying to say about time in the novel? Chronology is not important, but why does he chose to tell us certain things about his life and inspirations at certain times in the novel when we have already read (or haven’t read) certain parts?

Although the future is not discussed as prevalently, my favorite line is the same quote Vu used a mere post before: “The future was nothing to worry about. It was awfully close” (104). The concept of the future inherently symbolizes mystery. Dylan personifies this through his mystic portrayal. Even the novel’s title plays into the mystery of the future, implying that perhaps there will be a Volume Two. I am not exactly what to make on Dylan’s views on the future. Any thoughts?

book vs. movie

I don't know what everyone else thinks, but to me, visualizing Dylan as one person is much easier in the book than the movie.  Maybe the dramatized lives of each of the characters in the movie create that disconnect because their stories are so extreme yet so different.  

The movie clearly had some fictional parts to it (ostrich and giraffe in the Halloween town, Dylan floating in the air while leashed to the ground) which both confused me and enriched the Dylan lore.  Dylan admits to lying about and embellishing his past in Chronicles, but the book doesn't seem to contain anything too farfetched.  Does Dylan just cleverly hide the fictional aspects of the book?  Or is most of the book fictional and I am just overlooking it?  After all, he speaks in detail about every acquaintance, place he's performed, etc. over 40 years later.  

When contemplating the movie I continue to question why Jack Rollins evolves into Pastor John when no other characters go through such a metamorphosis.  Is Dylan saying that the introduction to religion changed him more than anything else in his life?  I keep asking myself what all the images, subtleties, and allusions mean, and I feel like that is exactly the question Dylan and Todd Haynes were trying to conjure out of the audience.

Phone Booth

“The phone booths were like sanctuaries” (225).
Dylan does not have a problem with being alone; in fact Dylan’s obsession with the tranquility and peacefulness that comes with privacy is reverberant throughout his entire autobiography. On page 225 he claims that the phone booths of the city drive the noise and dirt away, but the fact of the matter is that the people on the other side of the line are not alone or private. As soon as Dylan gives off any signal of his being/whereabouts it will become public.
After Dylan explains to the irony behind being able to seclude oneself to the privacy of a city phone booth (while opening oneself to the public), he moves on to tell of his childhood and teenage years. He makes public the ideologies and learning’s from his early childhood. It is important to note that Dylan’s story is not chronological, and he often steps away from different anecdotes in his life in order to tell of another.
I thought the most interesting part of chapter five involved Dylan’s vivid explanation as to how his recordings with Lou went down. Dylan quite modestly and cunningly clarifies the fact that he was not a songwriter, at least not a conventional songwriter. He explains that he rearranges old blues ballads, and eventually adds an original line here or there. In my opinion, Dylan’s perspective towards himself and his music is vividly different to the Dylan who was speaking in the beginning of his autobiography. Dylan’s modesty was evident at first, but there was a clear sense of arrogance in his telling of what was to come for his future as a musician. Now that he has told the reader of his journey up to this point he feels that there is nothing to hide; Dylan must reveal all his secrets.
On page 228, Dylan continues to bash on his own musical style. He claims that his music is simple and was not thought consuming. He rambles on in his recordings with Lou, without a sense of remembrance.
Dylan then claims that for a while he rode on the shoulders of Woody Guthrie in his music.
Perhaps Dylan feels like the privacy he had gained from his “phone booth” has been exploited by the publicity of his life on the other line (perhaps the reader).

The Cryptic Nature of Dylan

I am surprised that no one yet has made a post on the very cryptic nature of Dylan.

First off, the structure of Chronicles is not particularly conducive to the more traditional, straight-forward, and linear approach to the biography. Instead, Dylan writes in a very discursive, seemingly spontaneous style. He tends to travel from one short story explaining each with intimate detail. The format is not confusing; however, the cryptic nature of Dylan's words and overall different approach to writing does confuse me.

Within each passage, Dylan starts in a manner where he simply recalls his past actions and conversations; however, by the end of each passage, Dylan each conclude the story by explaining some kind of phenomena about himself or about life in incredibly vague and non-descript terms to me at least.

There are plenty of examples of these kinds of passages throughout the book. To end chapter two, Dylan writes "She poured the steaming coffee and I turned towards the street window. The whole city was dangling in front of my nose. I had a vivid idea of where everything was. The future was nothing to worry about. It was awfully close" (104). I have so many questions about these last three sentences I would not know where to start. What does he mean when he says "dangling in front of my nose" or "a vivid idea of where everything was?" Why doesn't he worry about the future? What was close? Was it his destiny or fate? And probably most importantly of all, what prompts Dylan to write these last sentences? Being perfectly honest, after reading those sentences, I feel like I missed something incredibly important about finishing chapter two.

Is Dylan simply saying that he has a firm idea now of his goals and of where he wants to go? If any of you guys can help with the reading of this book or this passage, that would be awesome.

Todd Haynes

I'm Not There reminded me of A Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary Jemison, and The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas. All three of them were not written by the person whose life they describe. We looked at Seaver and Stein to better understand their works and the people whose biographies they wrote. So I thought it will help us better understand this movie and how much it is really about Dylan if we pay closer attention to Todd Haynes, its director.

Here is a link to an interview with Haynes that I found interesting and helpful - http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2007/11/27/im-not-there-director-_n_69665.html

When we are thinking about the movie and how it is supposed to show us Dylan's real identities, it is important to remember that Haynes has never even met Dylan. He based the movie on "[Dylan's] published writings, his lyrics, all the records and unreleased material and all the biographies written about him", "his own creative influences, starting with folk music and traditional music, Woody Guthrie and his writings", "the symbolist poets and beat poetry", the Old Testament. So how much of Dylan do we see? I think all we see is Haynes and his own understanding of Dylan. That doesn't make the movie less worth of our attention but we should certainly have it in mind before as we are analyzing it.

Something on the side, the seventh character in the movie, according to Haynes, was supposed to be "a silent-screen, Chaplin-like Dylan, who performs these little feats of magic and whimsy in Greenwich Village and ultimately resolves the conflict between the Beats and the Folkies, a very Romeo-and-Juliet moment". Haynes decided not to include that personality though (he might have realized the movie was confusing enough with six identities :) ).

The Chronicles and I'm Not There: A Comparison

At the end of class yesterday, we were asked to consider whether the movie and the book provided us with a different sense of Dylan. My immediate reaction to the question was to say yes, but at the time I could not articulate why. After thinking it over, I would like to return to the question to do it a bit more justice.
One thing I noticed about the book (Dylan's autobiography) versus, the movie (his biography) was that the book was, in a way, far less personally revealing than the movie. This is ironic since the autobiography is usually considered to be more insightful. However, in the movie, we are able to see bits of Dylan's personal life, such as his struggles with his wife and children. Unlike the book, the characters in I'm Not There are given names and have faces. Through the plotline of the movie, we are able to witness their family's inner dynamic and struggle. Even though Dylan claims his family is immensely important in his autobiography, he only refers to his family at a surface level. We are not given any information about Dylan's children (their ages, sexes, birthdays, names) nor his wife. Reasonably, this is out of Dylan's desire to protect the privacy of his family at all cost--a wish that is not entirely upheld in the movie. Thus, the lack of personal details included in The Chronicles, in a sense, maintain's the mystery of Dylan's private life.
Stemming from this, we are then left to question Dylan's motives for writing an autobiography if he still desires to keep his private life secret. This ties into another difference between I'm Not There and The Chronicles. In the movie, care is taken to paint a broad perspective of who Dylan is and how he was perceived. It tells the complex stor of his life. On the other hand, in his autobiography, Dylan seems less concerned with revealing the true story of himself and more concerned with revealing the true story of his music. Dylan brings up who his inspirations were, where his rhythms came from, and how his lyrics developed from his thoughts. Thus, perhaps the reason why the two are so different is that one focuses on Dylan, while the other is focused more specifically on his music and the creative process.

Wives

One of the most interesting aspects, in my opinion, is Dylan's discussion of his family in New Morning and Oh Mercy.  In the former, its clear that family is his primary concern.  He speaks of his futile attempt to raise his children, to live with his wife, in a somewhat normal fashion.  He is constantly trying to evade his fame--he even goes so far as to put out two records (Nashville Skyline and Self Portrait) that he hoped would put distance between himself and his reputation, essentially sacrificing his craft to regain his privacy.  His priorities are clear; he has no use for the significance others ascribe to him, and his care is for his family alone.

Oh Mercy, on the other hand, is markedly different; most of it is devoted to him discovering a new way to compose songs, a new way to express himself.  He seeks to rediscover his passion for music, and a lot of Oh Mercy actually deals with his making of the titular album. His family is referenced throughout, but they aren't the focus of the chapter.

What's important to note is that he's not really talking about the same family in both chapters.  Dylan doesn't dedicate a chapter to the mid-1970s, but it was during that period that his first wife, Sara Lowndes, who he refers to throughout New Morning as his wife, divorced him.  In 1986, he remarried, this time to a former backup singer named Carol Dennis.  He refers to Dennis as wife all through Oh Mercy, but, interestingly, never mentions either Lowndes or Dennis by name.  They are both referred to as his wife; without any prior knowledge of Dylan's personal life, there is no reason to suspect he is even referring to different people.  Perhaps most intriguing is that his first marriage, at least given the evidence of these two chapters, seems much more critical to him; the devotion to being a family man he displays in New Morning has at least dwindled in Oh Mercy.  How should we view this?  As a sign that Dylan, by the late 1980s, had accepted his role as a public figure and no longer sought so desperately to evade it?  That his first wife simply meant more to him?  Its these kind of questions that probably won't be answered, but they're certainly worth considering.

Perceptions

I've listened to a lot of Dylan's music but I am realizing now that I knew nothing about him. When we watched the movie in class, I saw Dylan as not caring about anyone or anything. He appeared to blow off the media by avoiding their questions by asking other questions. He seemed like he had no worries. Could Dylan have written his autobiography to explain his intentions? Since he is writing at an older age looking back at his life, could he have realized how negatively he was viewed and want to change that? I have a different perception of Dylan after reading some of his autobiography. I am impressed with his love for his family. He tries everything he can to hide them from the media, and there is a marked change in his goals when he has children. He starts talking about retirement after he goes on tour with Tom Petty. Dylan's goals change again after a metamorphosis during one of his songs (153). He decides not to retire. Are his children grown up at this point? He talks about living on a farm, owning a sailboat and traveling with his family. Does he push these things aside to go on tour? (I still have a bit of part 4 left to read, maybe these questions will be answered) I am looking forward to watching the movie tomorrow to see more of how the people perceive Dylan after reading about how Dylan explains himself.

Reading Like Dylan

The parts of this book that fascinate me the most are when Dylan is describing what he reads, and what he takes from it. The wonderful connection between a long poem and a song thats "more than three minutes" seems to really define who he is. Not knowing much about Bob Dylan I was so interested in his descriptions of reading. I never thought of how difficult it was to pay attention to every word in a poem, until I tried to read the book as he was reading these long poems. If you pay attention to every word it tells a different story. This ties in with the movie, which I also found hard to keep up with, but when i just started listening to everything that was saying I felt as though I was learning about one man in six ways, instead of focusing on the six different characters. Dylan's writing about reading, listening, or making music are all tied together in that in order to understand what is being said you should listen to it all in order to get the message.

The Man in the Long Black Coat

Of all the songs on Oh Mercy, which I would rate as one of Dylan's ten best studio albums, there is a certain quality about "The Man in the Long Black Coat" that isn't replicated anywhere else on the album.  Dylan calls the album itself "haunting," and it is--"Ring them Bells," "Most of the Time," "What Was it You Wanted?," they all have a sense of ethereal, otherworldliness, one crafted out of a reality not quite in line with our world.  But "The Man in the Long Black Coat" surpasses them all; it's that the lyrics match the arrangement best, that this character that Dylan creates is perfectly suited to the murky, reverb-soaked, slow-pounding sound.

This is the kind of song a reviewer might key on, might recognize as the best of the album, but without knowing exactly why.  Here, Dylan's insight do a lot to explain why the song stands out.  First, it was written in closest chronological proximity to its arrangement, and that certainly does a lot for the song.  But more importantly, there's a consistency in Dylan's state of mind between writing it and performing it.  "The Man in the Long Black Coat," given some of the evidence Dylan provides, is a representation of session saxophonist, John Hart..  The parallels are obvious; Hart wears a long black coat, as well as dark glasses, which mesh with Dylan's lyric, "he had a face like a mask."  Sun Pie appears in the song as a preacher; Dylan echoes his sentiment with the lyric "Preacher was a-talkin/ There's a sermon he gave/ He said every man's conscience/ Is vile and depraved."

The song stands out because from the time Dylan left New Orleans, he seemed to find a groove that he stayed in until the album was finished.  Dylan's best work was done this way, but he had an easier time remaining static earlier in his career, when he could write a song on tour, then settle in and record it with exactly the same mindset about the song--1966's Blonde on Blonde might be his best record, and it's the best example of this phenomenon.

Fleshing Out

Being a musician, Dylan naturally has a lot of opinions on what makes a good song, what makes a clever idea, and what makes a multidimensional person. His phraseology is always intriguing in this respect: an powerful entity is biologically described. "...yet he's the stuff of real flesh and blood," is how Dylan crystallizes Pretty Boy Floyd (39). The more profound an idea is, the more real it becomes. Though Dylan loves to think and philosophize, he doesn't fall into the trap of viewing the physical as useless; on the contrary, the closer an idea comes to truth, the more human it becomes. It's as though Dylan's litmus test for truth is whether or not and idea can be personified. "LPs were like the force of gravity" (34). The more palpable something becomes, the more Dylan loves it. Perhaps this lingers behind his fascination with social justice and protest.

Blowing in the Wind

The first chapter, “Markin’ Up The Score”, ends with Dylan’s admittance of the fact that he “had no false hope”. Up to this point in his life he understands that he has “come from a long ways off and had started from a long ways down” (22). He believes in destiny, and the future holds no surprise in his eyes; it is no coincidence that he met John Hammond or even Dave Van Ronk. At this point in Dylan’s career he has already demonstrated the confidence necessary for the success his future holds. Upon Dylan’s arrival to New York City he mentions that he had not known anyone. He was alone in the “cold and intricate web” that the city was. But the fact of the matter is that, the majority of Dylan’s accounts revolve around the encounters he faces with essentially everyone he meets in the city. In fact, Dylan credits New York City with having shaped his destiny.
Dylan seems to unconsciously compare himself with those around him. For example even though Dylan openly reveals his admiration for Freddy Neil, he also reveals the fact that he believes that Freddy has no aspirations for the future. He does not want to be like Freddy Neil, and in the end he decides never to play in the Wha? again. Dylan does in fact show off his modesty, but at times it feels as If he is forcing the modesty out. Case in point, Dylan tells us that the fact that he ever even set foot through the door of Columbia Records seems as it were a dream, but he knows that it was his destiny.
My last point is that I find Dylan’s concise and straightforward language (prose) to be helpful in telling his story. He covers a lot of ground in his life, but at the same time it does not feel like the reader is missing out on anything.

Stuck in liminality

When I read American Indian Stories I was somewhat unsure as to where in society Zitkala-Sa's place was. The fact that she did not go back to her mother implied that she didn't feel Indian, but she wasn't entirely 'civilized' either. She didn't seem to consider herself the same as whte people. Then I remembered something from an Anthropology class about liminality and rituals. In most rituals when an individual is transitioning from one state to another, there is this period of liminality in which they are isolated from society. An example is the wedding ceremony - the groom is not supposed to see the bride throughout most of the ceremony and so she has to wear a veil. So having that in mind and thinking about Zitkala-Sa, I felt like she was stuck in this liminal period - neither Indian, nor white. She could not be entirely accepted by either group; she was in the period of isloation associalted with transition. The only logical place for her to be was where other people going through the same transitions were - a school like the one she went to.
The next question that came to my mind then was if she could ever become part of one specific group. This brings me to a question I've been trying to find an answer to for quite a while - do we ever change our culture entirely? As someone who is also 'stuck' in liminality, I think that the answer is 'no'. I have been in the US for a few years now, but I don't identify myself as American. As much as I miss my country, when I go there I don't feel like I belong there either. As a matter of fact, from all of the people I know who came here from other countries (which is quite a lot of people) none considers herself/himself American. So what happens to people like us? We just increase in numbers. And as more and more people move, it becomes harder and harder to tell who is from where, and what culture is what.

Autobiography of a celebrity

Because Bob Dylan is a celebrity who is influenced by both the mass and the media, his autobiography constructs an image he wants people to see in his life. In this sense, Chronicles is more like Franklin's autobiography than American Indian Stories and Narratives of Mrs. Marry Jemison. It is written by a person already known to most people, and whose status in society has already been known.

Franklin started his autobiography with a detailed description of the context of his birth, especially his ancestors who were prestegious and virtuous, like the image of himself written throughout the book. The Narrative of Mrs. Jemison starts with the story of Jemison's parents, who provided her with White identity she never loses till the end. By starting off with a vivid and detailed dercription of the beginning of his career as a musician, Dylan implies that his signing a contract with a major record compant was like a new birth to himself, and that music is an important theme that shapes his identity, or at least what is portrayed in this book.

Mythology

I was always intrigued by Dylan's persistence in obscuring the truth of his past.  He relates one instance of this, discussing his background with a publicity man from Columbia Records.  Dylan was not, as he claimed in his brief conversation with the man, from Detroit, he hadn't traveled around, his father was not an electrician, and he'd never ridden in a boxcar.

But Dylan had strong urges then, as he still does now, to shroud himself in mythology.  It's difficult to say what motivated him to do this--he writes that he doesn't like the questions, but that is more likely defiance of those who ask them than the truth.  More likely, then, is this: deeply affected by the mythology of traditional folk music, he sought to somehow incorporate himself in this tradition, beginning by deliberately obscuring his origins.

Markin' up the score

I've enjoyed the Chronicles: Volume One so far.  Dylan's perceptiveness of other people correlates to some great imagery and interesting scenes but may highlight some of his teleological language. Just having one conversation with someone he thinks he can pinpoint their character like the "Ivy League" man at the record studio.  His autobiography is pretty typical--a chronological narrative.  Relating to his words just seems easier to me, probably because this is the most modern biography we have written.  Does anyone feel different about reading an autobiography of someone who is still alive?

His quick explanations of how famous folk singers, or any musicians for that matter, inspired him shed some light on him, but he has yet to reveal much about his inner self (granted it's only the first chapter).  I think the facet of himself he has shown the most is that he doesn't really question himself but just knows what he wants to do: "I envisioned myself recording for Folkway Records.  That was the label I wanted to be on...It was a club [the Gaslight] I wanted to play, needed to" (p.15). 

The Devil

Whether it is simply to enhance the narration or symbolic, Zitkala-Sa's description of the Devil is disturbingly vivid. It is a multi-layered, unimaginable description that equally intrigues and horrifies the viewer; that said, it also has some interesting language used to describe it.

First, she calls it "the white man's devil" (62). This not only distances her from it, but makes it seem like a trick or custom, rather than a palpable being. She also says, "the paleface woman [said] this terrible creature roamed loose in the world, and that little girls who disobeyed...were to be tortured by him (63)". Thus, Zitkala-Sa portrays the devil as a tool for controling children, and she treats it as such when she scratches out its image in a book (64).

Furthermore, almost all of the descriptions of the Devil's composition pertained to animals. This indicates that the white culture vilified the animals that Zitkala-Sa loved, or possibly that they perverted their peaceful image and converted them to a horror.

One last uncomfortable note: she says that the Devil "...did not know the Indian language..."and, "...he had beared cheeks, like some I had seen palefaces wear..."(63,62). Any guesses as to who the Devil might be?

The Sioux

While reading American Indian Stories, The Sioux became a story that really intrigued me. The story involves the return of Sioux Christian Missionary intent on converting those in his tribe who returns to his community and his father. After reading the story I gained the impression that the main theme of this story was that this destructive and ultimately worthless war between the White and Indian culture can tear apart the individual's most sacred institutions such as the family. However, there was one particular scene in the story that puzzled me.

On page 122 about the missionary quest to feed his father, "A rough hand wrenched my shoulder and took the meat from me! I stopped struggling to run. A deafening whir filled my hear. The moon and the stars began to move. Now the white prairie was sky, and the stars lay under my feet. Now again they were turning. At last the starry blue rose up into place. The noise in my ears was still. A great quiet filled the air. In my hand I found my long knife dripping with blood."

Is this murder the logical consequence of the war between White and Indian culture? If so, is this stranger simply a representation of those who are innocent who die in the conflict between Indians and Whites? Could the stranger represent something bigger and more complex? I think the latter may be the case due to the grave and permanent nature of murder.

The Red Apple

In class today, I was intrigued by the discussion of the red apples and wanted to jump off of what they symbolized. One could further Dan’s Biblical metaphor on the Forbidden Fruit from the garden, which could be represented by taking the apple and entering into white civilization. To the Native Americans, the intrigue of white society and the foresight of its encroachment on their lives were impetuses to wearily enter into white education to survive in their changing world. Specifically for Zitakala-Sa, the red apples and iron horse ride promised by the missionaries drew her, and by accepting these 'Forbidden Fruit’ she lost the symbolic innocence of Native American society and nature to enter into the vices of white society.

Another symbolic way of viewing the red apple is to completely throw out Biblical references and see it as a symbol of American values and Americana culture. America represents the land of the free and a beacon of light for those oppressed by religious, political and social persecution. New York City, the main immigrant gateway into the United States via Ellis Island, is known as the 'Big Apple' and is seen to symbolize the land of opportunity. A red apple conjures up images of good old American apple pie, New England apple picking in the fall and other idealized images of white Americana culture.

It is ironic, then, that the red apple that so intrigued Zitakala-Sa to symbolize the opportunity of white education actually brought her into a system that took away her freedom and identity to mold her into the perfect white American. The ideals and tolerance that the American government was founded upon did not extend to Native Americans at that time. So, what was the true symbolism of the red apple in this situation? With the restricted life and displacement from their native culture, were Native Americans at that time actually being educated, or just really degraded by white culture?