Adam Glasgow
Do Captivity
Narratives Deserve Their Title?
The
captivity narrative is one type of literature we have talked about this semester
that I was familiar with, but had never put a label on before. I have read and
watched plenty of captivity narratives in my life – everything from fictional
works like “The Count of Monte Cristo” by Alexandre Dumas to strange South
Korean movies like “Oldboy.” The reason I had never mentally labeled these
stories as “captivity narratives” before probably has to do with it being such a
broad category. Is it really worth grouping together so many works under one
umbrella? Or is it just a useless marker that adds nothing to the discussion of
the works?
My personal knee jerk reaction is to dismiss the
label as useless, or at least almost useless. Why bother going through the
history of literature and film looking for any and every instance of someone
being captured or jailed just to slap the “captivity narrative” name on it? What
do “Silence of the Lambs” and the “Captivity Narrative of Mary Rowlandson” have
to do with each other? Once again, my initial gut answer to this question is
“nothing, and doing so is a waste of time.” But for whatever reason, after
discussing them briefly in class, I could not stop thinking about the labeling
of captivity narratives, and I have done a full 180 on the subject.
Considering captivity narratives a genre in and of
themselves is a worthwhile endeavor.
Being captured, jailed, or held against one’s will
is, I think, a pretty universal fear. And unlike people who are scared of the
Aurora Borealis (which is called “Auroraphobia,” by the way), the fear of being
held against your will is a legitimate one. Being in this situation is,
regardless of culture, viewed as not
ideal, to put it lightly. This near universal fear of being held captive is
reason enough to consider the captive narrative a genre in and of itself (even
if works that find themselves with this label almost overlap with other genres).
Certain psychological
questions are addressed in captivity narratives. How do different people react
when they are helpless and depend on their captors for food and protection? Do
children react differently than adults? (This question was one we specifically
talked about in class when we compared “Narrative of the Life of Mrs. Mary
Jemison” with “Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary
Rowlandson.”) Do women and men act differently in these situations? What about
people from differing cultures? Not to mention, what do these stories tell us of
the ones who are detaining the captured person/persons? In what situations is it
considered moral to hold someone captive? In what instances is it morally
reprehensible? Where have we drawn this line in the past, and where do we want
to draw it in the future? How do fictional captivity narratives compare to
non-fictional accounts of similar situations? The simple fact that so many questions can easily be asked about captivity narratives was enough for me to reverse my initial reaction against the labeling of them as their own genre. While I still think that my original position of “it’s too broad and too meaningless” is an understandable reaction, simple reflection quickly squashed the “too meaningless” bit out of the statement, which leaves us with the complain of “captivity narrative is too broad of a genre.” And it is broad, but only because it is so universal.
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