Emine
Lâle Demitürk, How
Black Writers Deal with Whiteness. Characterization through Deconstructing
Color (Lewiston, N.Y. : the Edwin Mellen Press, 2008). USA
$109.59/UK £69.95, 230 pages, ISBN-13: 978-0-7734-5073-8/10:
0-7734-5073-4 – Claude Julien, Université François
Rabelais, Tours.
Here
is a welcome book whose purpose is to map the fictionalization of
the weight of whiteness in the African-American novel. Its thesis
is that the problem of the color line as delineated in William E.
B. Du Bois’s The Souls of Black Folk continues to be
a major issue in the 21st century; that the white people’s pretension
they own the world remains unchanged; that blackness remains central
to the white American social construct ?one that was built out of
the habit to look down upon African-Americans. The novels Demitürk
studies are never approached as literature, but as expressions of
an iniquitous social situation.
The book’s
intention is aptly illustrated in its first part, a fine analysis
of Richard Wright’s Savage Holiday. That novel, unexpected
after reading the introduction, is an excellent choice because it
allows a study of white supremacism in a perspective that does not
involve racial elements: indeed the main characters are white. Wright,
however, manages to highlight the white man’s (some male chauvinism
is involved here) inborn superiority feeling. This is shown through
Erskine Fowler’s motives when marrying Mabel Blake. He does
not solely propose to hide his responsibility in Tony’s (her
son) fatal fall from the balcony, but to save her, to “civilize”
her if we choose to read the novel’s title in that perspective?
because she is a mere whore in his eyes. Demitürk’s starting
point when building her argument is Fowler’s equally prejudiced
view of Minnie, a minor black character, bolstered by Wright’s
own statement in an interview with Roland Barthes that, after Native
Son, he had this time wanted to have white readers face their
own moral dilemma ?that is to say by confining his story among the
layers of white society.
From
Savage Holiday, 1954, Demitürk turns to the deleterious
impact of “whiteness” upon black people and, of course,
the relations between both social groups. The book is organized in
parts divided into chapters, one to each novel. The second part covers
neo slave narratives (Octavia E. Butler’s Kindred,
1979, Sherley Ann Williams’s Dessa Rose, 1986, and
J. California Cooper’s Family, 1991). There follows
a section on novels of “passing”, namely Jessie R. Fauset’s
Plum Bun, 1929, and Charles W. Chesnutt’s Paul
Marchand, F.M.C., 1921. The fourth part discusses the perceptions
of racial identities. First dealing with Toni Morrison’s The
Bluest Eye, 1970, it then turns to postcolonial spaces with Paule
Marshall’s The Chosen Place, the Timeless People,
1969, set in the Caribbean. The last part studies the black body imprisoned
in an urban environment. It starts with Louise Meriwether’s
Daddy Was a Number Runner, 1970, and ends with Colson Whitehead’s
The Intuitionist, 1999.
The novels studied are well chosen. One can always wonder why the
author has not opted for Chesnutt’s posthumous Mandy Oxendine
rather than Paul Marchand, because the former, much more radical than
the latter, remained unpublished. At the heart of this choice, and
this may have been worth a discussion, was Chesnutt’s sense
of what was acceptable in print in his day measured against his silenced
intention to speak out. Other novels may have been selected to trace
the representation of whiteness in urban spaces. Demitürk concentrates
on Harlem. Other cities offered good opportunities to vary the book’s
scope: like the rioting in Wilmington, NC, in Chesnutt’s The
Marrow of Tradition. That was an earlier, turn of the century,
book. If two books by the same novelist were one too many, one may
have considered turning to the 1830s Philadelphia race riots as pictured
in Frank J. Webb's The Garies and their Friends. If the 1830s
pictured in the early 1850s was too early a date, there was John Wideman’s
Pittsburgh, or Philadelphia in Philadelphia Fire. And there was rioting
Chicago, arguably the worst of Ghettos, in Mark Kennedy’s The
Pecking Order. Still in the province of race riots, one may have
thought of looking at Paula L. Woods’s Inner City’s
Blues located in Los Angeles. Or, also in California and with
a strong sense of history to boot, there was Walter Mosley’s
Easy Rawlins series.
Such
suggestions of other books to bring into consideration are somewhat
unfair. Demitürk must have had to take publishing constraints
into account, and in-depth studies such as she proposes here were
incompatible with a longer list of novels. Hard choices were probably
made. Whatever that is, one must say that Morrison’s The
Bluest Eye was definitely the best of that author’s novels
to come into consideration here. And the study of urban novels wisely
picks two books born from vastly different times and genres.
Demitürk
offers sharp, convincing studies of the books she has chosen to deal
with. Her interpretations show deep respect for the different novels.
Never does she “pull” an element of the various texts
to fit her general purpose. Her book is supported by extensive reading
of literature and social science scholars: strict (perhaps sometimes
ponderous) referencing attests to that. With a thorough bibliography
and an index, the end result is pleasant to read and generally well
written apart from a few typos and syntactical oddities concerning
the omission of determinants (the/a).
One
major problem must be brought out, though. Only when neo slave narratives
are analyzed does the question of contextualization briefly come up
for discussion. Otherwise, the gap between the moment of writing and
the fictionalized period is ignored. All considered, a similar question
arises for The Bluest Eye and Daddy Was a Number Runner,
both set during the Great Depression. This conceptual weakness may
have been corrected by adding a synthetic chapter rounding up and
historicizing the question. Knitting the several parts together is
felt as a lack as one closes the book. Demitürk’s thesis
is that nothing has changed since Du Bois’s evaluation of the
color line. Is the great white shadow that immutable? Has there really
been no evolution at all? Are the mindsets of Meriwether’s Depression
time characters the same as Colson Whitehead’s more modern New
York?
©2009
Claude Julien & GRAAT.