LITR
4232: American Renaissance
University
of Houston-Clear Lake, spring 2002
Index to Student Research Projects
Sheri O'Rourke
Craig White
Literature 4232
January 8, 2003
Douglass
and Stowe: Truth vs. Fiction
It is often said that truth is stranger than fiction.
Perhaps, this is so, as truth wears no veil; it is stark reality. There are no soft edges in truth. Only the most zealous hunters, those willing to meet the
sword, actively seek it. The
majority, while considering ourselves open to the truth, may only realize it
when it comes disguised as something else. In short, it seems that we need to
see it as not threatening, but molded and plied into something we can digest.
Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave is
a brilliant and powerful piece which details one of the worst times in American
History. After reading Douglass’
work, those seeking the truth about slavery could not help but to have been
compelled to denounce this institution and those who upheld it.
Yet, while there are many who undoubtedly applauded his work, those were
difficult times with no easy answers, and truth is relative, at best.
In sharp contrast to Douglass’ eloquent narrative is Harriet Beecher
Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. This
piece of sentimental fiction, while based on factual accounts, offered Americans
an idealized view of slavery. The
slaves were relatively content with their kind masters, and the vivid images of
brutality that Douglass describes are not seen in Uncle Tom’s Cabin.
However, Stowe, writing from a woman’s standpoint, presented her own
truth in a context that Americans could relate to at the time. In spite of her
gender and subsequent social position, and perhaps because of it, through her
fiction, Stowe succeeded in portraying the institution of slavery for the
abomination that it was.
Both Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Douglass Narrative... enjoyed
popular success. As Miller writes in The Heath Anthology of American
Literature, “One of the reasons for the popular appeal of Douglass’
Narrative would certainly be the skill with which he appropriated the language
and symbolism of American middle class culture and religion to denounce the
evils of slavery and racism” (1816). The
very fact that Douglass was essentially self-taught, and penned such a powerful
piece belied the preferred opinion that blacks were inferior, thus suited for
slavery. In addition, throughout
the narrative, he expressed emotions and sentiments common to persons of all
races. He says of his lack of knowledge of his birthday, “A want of
information concerning my own was a source of unhappiness to me, even during
childhood” (1824). By mentioning
this, he calls attention to the fact that the slaves had the same desires as the
dominant culture. While employed at
the shipyard in Baltimore, he learned a trade and was able to earn money.
He was able to “command the highest wages given to the most experienced
caulkers” (1867). Yet, his master
took his wages from him. As he says
“I contracted for it; I earned it; it was paid to me; it was rightfully my
own” (1868), yet he had to give it to his master “solely because he had the
power to compel me to give it to him” (1868).
Here, Douglass illustrates the desire of every man to be able to learn a
trade, and earn honest wages. No
man would want to be deprived of that freedom, yet Douglass was, because of
slavery. As Meider writes in the
Journal of American Folklore, “Frederick Douglass became one of the recognized
voices speaking for many of the enslaved African Americans in the United States
in the 19th century...his words were based on the authority of the Bible and the
democratic ideals of the United States” (331). Douglass knew that slavery was scripturally wrong.
As he says of the increase of slaves fathered by white masters, “if
their increase will do no other good, it will do away with the force of the
argument, that God cursed Ham, and therefore slavery is right.
If the lineal descendants of Ham are alone to be scripturally enslaved,
it is certain that slavery in the south must soon become unscriptural” (1826).
He also writes “From my earliest recollection, I date the entertainment
of a deep conviction that slavery would not always be able to hold me within its
foul embrace... this good spirit was from God, and to him I offer thanksgiving
and praise” (1838).
By revealing that slaves held the same desires for their lives as white
men, and believed in the same God, Douglass negated any falsely held belief that
slaves were lowly savages, and somehow deserved their status.
His work made great strides toward confirming the beliefs of the
abolitionists. As Meider writes,
“Douglass was the most visible and influential African American of the 19th
century” (331). Yet, however
eloquent, there is the question of whether or not America was ready for
Douglass.
Stowe shared Douglass’ faith in God and the belief that slavery was not
scriptural. This is evident throughout her novel. When George is attempting his escape, he explains to Mr.
Wilson, “I appeal to the God Almighty;-I’m willing to go with the case to
Him, and ask Him if I do wrong to seek my freedom” (2495).
She also refers to God to level subtle attacks on the mindset of
slave-owners. With regard to the
fact that slaves are beaten for getting aggravating and sassy, she has the
drover say “... the Lord made ‘em men, and it’s a hard squeeze getting
‘em down into beasts” (2492). And,
when mention is made of the need to sell two slaves who could not be controlled,
the drover says “Better send up orders to the Lord, to make you a set, and
leave out their souls entirely” (2493). Here,
in almost sarcastic tones, Stowe both reminds her readers that God made all men,
and reveals her distaste for the idea that slaves were considered to be less
than human.
However, unlike Douglass, who wrote a first hand account of the horrors
that he endured and witnessed,
Stowe
was writing from a completely different perspective. Though she was free and white, she was a woman, and as such,
her voice was limited. Because of
this, and because she was attempting to denounce an entire way of life, she had
no choice but to rely on what she felt to be the goodness of human nature and
its power to change. This technique
is indicative of the sentimental fiction writers of that era. Theirs was a “reliance on the inherent goodness of human
nature and the power of feelings as a guide to right conduct” (Campbell 1).
Stowe seemed to know that if she wanted the men in power to hear her, she
could not level harsh, albeit true, accusations against them.
She had to appeal to the goodness of her fellow man.
As Sundquist writes, “Stowe insisted that the power of sentiment, a
rebellion of the emotions, of heart over head, would crush the masculine tyranny
of American institutions and the law of the fathers” (18).
Consequently, rather than rail against the slave-owners, Stowe
concentrated on arousing the human emotions that we all share.
Like Douglass, who evokes pathos in his readers with his descriptions of
children separated from their mothers, and the pain that a fugitive slave feels
upon leaving his only friends to escape to the unknown, Stowe also tells of the
separation of families and the heartbreak of slave parents.
However, there is a marked contrast between Stowe’s fiction and
Douglass’ memoir regarding their characterizations, and the accounts of
violence against the slaves.
Douglass accounts of brutality are much more vivid, while Stowe’s are
somewhat implied. For example,
Douglass describes the beating of his little brother by revealing that Master
Andrew “took my little brother by the throat, threw him to the ground, and
with the heel of his boot stamped upon his head till the blood gushed from his
nose and ears” (1844). Other
examples include Douglass’ descriptions of the beating of women.
As he says of fourteen year old Mary, “the head, neck and shoulders of
Mary were literally cut to pieces... her head covered with festering sores”
(1839). He details the beating of
one of his aunts, and says of the overseer that he “at times seemed to take
pleasure in beating a slave... the louder she screamed, the harder he whipped...
he would whip to make her scream and whip to make her hush; and not until
overcome by fatigue, would he cease to swing the blood-clotted cowskin”
(1826). These are graphic images of
extreme cruelty that even now, could cause one discomfort when admitting to even
being a member of a race of people who could commit such an act of brutality. It
seems that Stowe felt this, and knew that many would turn away from such an
image. There is no doubt that Tom
was beaten mercilessly by Legree, as he “smote him to the ground” (2513),
yet Stowe chose not to describe the beating.
Instead she offered a message that she hoped her readers would relate to.
She writes of Tom’s beating, “Scenes of blood and cruelty are
shocking to our ear and heart. What man has nerve to do, man has not nerve to hear”
(2513). Instead of graphically
describing the beating, she appeals to the Christianity within her fellow man.
She says “Oh, my country! These things are done under the shadow of thy
laws! O, Christ! Thy church sees them, almost in silence” (2513).
This was a desperate plea to the lawmakers to see that slavery was wrong.
She further appeals to her readers by likening Tom to Jesus, in that
“he knew that if he saved others, himself he could not save” (2514).
In this way, she pleads Tom’s case, and attempts to seek understanding
for him with the hope that her readers will examine their own faith, see Tom’s
goodness, and in turn, could be compelled to see the injustice of slavery.
Though she sympathized with the slaves, it seems that she could not
afford to alienate her white readers for fear of losing any voice she had, thus
any hope for her honest anti-slavery message to be heard.
As quoted in Piacentino’s piece, Josephine Donavan says that
“Stowe’s principal intent in the book was to “persuade her audience that
slavery was intolerable” (135).
Her methods, however, were called into question.
As Forrest Wilson points out in Piacentino’s piece, “the kindest,
most philanthropic, and most upright characters were, with some minor
exceptions, all Southerners and slave-holders” (135).
While Stowe’s slave-holders were obviously not portrayed to be as
ruthless as those described by Douglass, that does not mean that Stowe, as
Piacentino suggests, “consciously attempted to appease the South” (135).
On the contrary, Stowe was attempting to call attention to the injustice
of slavery; she was attempting to bring about change.
Had she aggressively portrayed the slave-owners as immoral and evil, or
the northerners just as vile for looking the other way, it is unlikely that they
would have given an ear to her voice.
Or perhaps, like Hawthorne and Melville, or even the Quakers in her
novel, Stowe chose not to condemn them as inherently evil.
In any case, she opted to confront them from a humanitarian standpoint.
She was successful.
As quoted from the Jefferson Inquirer, 1852, from A Key to Uncle
Tom’s Cabin:
“... we supposed the book was all that fanaticism and heresy
could invent, and were, therefore, greatly prejudiced against it. But on reading
it, we cannot refrain from saying that it is a work of more than ordinary moral
worth, and is entitled to consideration” (110).
By
keeping her focus on the slaves and refraining from condemnation of their
owners, Stowe did not alienate the reader.
As Phil John prints from the London Times Review, Friday Sept. 3rd,
1852:
“She does not preach a
sermon, for men are accustomed to nap and nod under the pulpit... nor does the
lady condescend to survey her intricate subject in the capacity of a
judge...with the instinct of her sex, the clever authoress takes the shortest
road to her purpose, and strikes at the convictions of her readers by assailing
their hearts” (4.3).
Stowe elected to remain non-judgmental, instead,
focusing her message on the plight of the slave, and reaching into the hearts of
her readers.
Included in The Key to Uncle Tom’s Cabin is a piece
from the editor of the St. Louis Battery. He
writes of Stowe:
“She
brings to the discussion of her subject a perfectly cool, calculating judgment,
a wide, all-encompassing intellectual vision, and a deep, warm, sea-like
woman’s soul, over all of which is flung a perfect iris-like imagination,
which makes the light of her pictures stronger and more beautiful, as their
shades are darker and terrifying” (111).
Harriet Beecher Stowe was trying to be heard on a subject that was dear
to her. She realized that her power
was limited because of her gender. She
could have chosen to write a more didactic piece.
Instead, knowing her audience, she opted to be heard.
It is as if she sacrificed herself, designed her voice, and used her
social station to achieve a worthy goal. It
seems that she knew what would be received from a woman.
The result was a piece not nearly as eloquent, or as powerful in imagery
as Douglass’ Slave Narrative, yet powerful and truthful in its own
right. More to the point, she
provided her readers a context with which to search their own souls for the
truth about slavery. She told them
what they needed to hear in a way that they needed to hear it.
Interestingly enough, Douglass’ brilliant piece, though it offered the
harsh truth, was not as successful. But,
those were difficult times with no easy answers.
Works
Cited
Douglass,
Frederick. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave.
The Heath Anthology of American Literature. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company,
2002.
Lauter,
John. The Heath Anthology of American Literature. Boston: Houghton
Mifflin Company, 2002.
Mieder,
Wolfgang. Do Unto Others as You
Would Have Them Do Unto You:Frederick Douglass’ Proverbial Struggle for Civil
Rights . Journal of American
Folklore 114 no453 331-57 Summ 2001.
Piacentino,
Ed. Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s
Cabin. The Explicator 58 no3
135-8 Spr 2000.
Stowe,
Harriet B. Uncle Tom’s Cabin. The
Heath Anthology of American Literature. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2002.
Stowe,
Harriet B. The Key to Uncle
Tom’s Cabin. http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/etcbin/toccer-new?id=StoKeyu&tag=public&images=images/modeng&data=/texts/english/modeng/parsed&part=0