Niki Bippen

April 15, 2016

Breaking Down the White Barriers

     As clichéd as it sounds, I have always been interested in minority texts for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately as a white woman living in the United States and spending a great deal of my life in a Deep South that wasn’t particularly interested in anything that wasn’t pale in skin color, it was extremely difficult to find minority literature. It simply was not made readily available or easy to obtain. I was presented instead with volumes of material written what I began referring to as “dead white men” and little else. Occasionally my teachers would present us with non-dead white men texts but these were limited to Native American pieces and women authors. In regards to the Native pieces we were given, these were primarily used as comparison points for creationist stories or trickster archetypes to pick out of Caucasian texts to break up the canon.

     This has always been a major contention point for me since I believe that the best way to intimately know and understand other cultures is to experience their literature. Literature reveals our fears, hopes, dreams, aspirations while showcasing our rich history and culture. This all helps to connect us as human beings across vast expanses of time, land, and water.  College provided an excellent way of getting my hands on literature that was outside of my own race in the form of minority literature classes; however, there has always appeared to be a shortage of African texts. Most professors seemed content to present slave narratives as a solution to the lack of black texts, but it is a disservice to their rich history. I was interested in reading about their culture outside of their experiences in America and this class promised to offer that. As an added bonus, I was also given the opportunity to experience Greek tragedy, which is admittedly something I know very little about. My hopes and dreams for this course were to jump into the deep end proverbially speaking and immerse myself in two genres that I knew little about and this class has done just that.

     In order to accomplish my goal of furthering my knowledge regarding both African and Greek tragedies, I decided to focus on discovering the roots of African texts. The bulk of my research was done using strings of keywords to find the sources and documents I was looking for after I exhausted Wikipedia. While some of my exploration took place before the course even began, I continued my search during the semester with intentions to do even more during the summer when time is not a factor. Much of my research centered on two websites in particular, the focus and reflection upon free will versus fate, and some model assignments that I hoped would further expand my knowledge. This journal chronicles my journey and experiences associated with growing my insight regarding both African and Greek tragedies as well as documents my struggles. While I do primarily focus on African tragedies particularly in reference to their importance in the canon, I do return periodically to Greek texts in order to observe similarities.

      Before this course, I spent a lot of time Googling African texts. Since I had never really been exposed to any that weren’t African-American, I was not expecting to find much material, especially older texts that would provide a sense of history and culture. However, the results were both exciting and intimidating as page after page and book after book appeared. I was shocked by the wealth of material that was just a few clicks away. Since there was so much available, I opted for a “crash course” of sorts that would give me a general and condensed look at African texts before I started really diving into them. Wendy Belcher’s website offered this exact knowledge, particularly in the brief look at her book, Early African Literature: An Anthology of Written Texts from 3000 BCE to 1900 CE. At the very top of the blurb concerning this title she writes,  

Contrary to the general perception, the African literatures written before the twentieth century are substantial. Whatever limits can be imagined—in terms of geography, genre, language, audience, and era—these literatures exceed them. Before the twentieth century, Africans wrote not just in Europe, but also on the African continent. (Belcher)

     Just as my search results had demonstrated, Wendy Belcher confirmed the plethora of African literature and volumes of older texts that I was interested in. While this book was obviously an excellent starting point for my journey into African literature, I found the rest of her website to be immensely helpful as well. Not only did she list her other books that focused on African texts coupled with helpful “at a glance” information regarding the subject matter, but she also offers writing advice for academics, links to further your research in the field, and numerous helpful articles to guide you along your quest. Her website proved to be invaluable and I really enjoyed the wealth of knowledge she brought to the table. It was a great relief to learn that African texts are not only numerous, but also possess a large audience, which is something I did not know; I had always assumed they had a small cult-like following if they had one at all.

     While Wikipedia was certainly my starting point in gathering base knowledge regarding not only African texts but Greek tragedies as well, I decided to turn my attention to how Greek tragedies influenced the African versions. I was not entirely sure at first if the Greeks had had any influence on African literature regarding this subject matter, but after some copious keyword plugging into Google, I was presented with an answer: a resounding yes, they had indeed influenced the Africans in at least some way. One website in particular, Geekworks, offered a review of the book The Athenian Sun in an African Sky in which the author addresses the same question I had. The book seems to confirm that while there were certainly African tragedies before the Greek influence arrived, the former was definitely influenced by the latter. Europeans who came to the continent introduced the Greek texts to the African and looking now at the similarities between the two as demonstrated in our course, I can clearly see the influence.

     One thing I had not really considered at first is how this affected the Africans. Obviously it helped reshape and develop their tragic stories into what we have become familiar with in this course, but Charles Rowan Beyer is quick to remind us that this was just another way of colonizing the tribes of Africa. In the review posted to Geekworks, he writes,

The experience of Greek tragedy first came to Africa through the theater produced by the Europeans who colonized the continent, there is the suspicion that the African perception of this drama is, so to speak, equally ‘colonized.’ Conversely, there is the theory that Greek tragic drama reveals its primitive, collectivist, social roots so completely that it is ‘outside of the European experience’ and therefore available to cultures that still maintain their integrity despite the pressures of colonization. (Beyer)

     In other words, while the Greek tragedies were a form of colonization, they did not possess the same traditional European values that the Africans likely feared. The Greek tragedies were unique and did not speak to the European experience to the degree that many other texts or genres do and because of this, were accepted with some level of ease by the Africans who could relate. The Greeks seemed to focus on transcending their current position in life and desiring to escape the fate that had been dealt to them, which was something that definitely spoke to the African experience and was highly appealing. This review also urges us to look deeper into the qualities that these two cultures share and articulate in their literature.  

     In many of the texts that we have studied in this course ranging from Oedipus the King to Antigone to The Rape of Shavi to even the play we saw, The Trojan Women, we see many elements that uniquely link Greek tragedies to African. While obviously the characters all seem to possess a tragic flaw like Creon’s need for masculinity, the one aspect that seems to repeatedly be echoed throughout both Greek and African texts is the desire to transcend past one’s current position. The idea of being dealt an unfair hand by fate is something that we can all relate to and speaks to us on a deep human level. For both the Greeks and the Africans, elevating themselves above their current situation is paramount. Looking at Oedipus as an example, he has been foretold that he will slay his father and marry his mother. The bulk of the play is spent watching Oedipus do everything within his power to escape the hands of fate, but he ultimately does just as predicted.

     The Trojan Women while arguably not African in origin, the cast does a great job of making it speak to the struggles faced by blacks, particularly women, at the hands of whites or Europeans, mirroring the rebellion against one’s fate. In the play, we watch as black women lament their sorrows regarding the fall of their city, the loss of their families, and attempt to reconcile what has happened. Hecuba seems particularly resolved to fight against the captors and refuses to go quietly. Andromache, however, is probably the best and most obvious example of this struggle against fate as she is informed that her son Astyanax has been condemned to die. She clings to her son, refusing to allow the white captors to take him away. Eventually, however she stops fighting and allows them to seize Astyanax.

     Perhaps it can be said about both Greek and African tragedies that the fight against fate is a useless struggle and that in the end, destiny will always win. In a fate versus free-will match, almost all of these tragedies show us that it is a fruitless endeavor and that in the end; destiny will always find a way to prevail. Regardless of the outcome, it appeals to us on a philosophical and spiritual level. We all want to aspire to more than what we have been handed and want to believe that we have the power to change the odds. Tragedy is great about speaking to this human condition while subtly reminding us that in the end, it is not always possible and sometimes we must simply accept the cards we have been dealt.

     In regards to irony and the inherent need to transcend past one’s fate, I was drawn to John Buice’s midterm titled The Tragic Irony of Irony in Tragedy.  From the very start of his paper, he seemed to grasp the same issues that I was coming to understand and expect from both Greek and African tragedies: there is this burning ache to escape fate, but it is not always as simple as it may seem. Buice sums up this struggle nicely by writing, “the ubiquitousness of Tragedy in world literature implies a transcendence of cultural, social, ethnic, moral, and historical differences. Universality, though, does not mean ‘simple'; more often than not, simple truths are the most complicated.” Like Buice states, the transcendence is not always as easy as it seems, and it is often much more complicated than it is given credit for. This is ultimately the case for Oedipus who does everything within his power to prevent the prophecy from coming true but in the end, it is his own actions that fulfill it. In the battle of free will versus fate, transcendence is never provided with an easy victory.

     Buice’s midterm continues throughout to inspire and acknowledge my suspicions regarding the human condition in tragedy. One question that had repeatedly crossed my mind when evaluating the free will versus destiny struggle was why do they even bother if they know that ultimately they will fail? I considered that perhaps the characters were unaware of the uphill losing battle they faced, but I decided it could not be that simple. Buice addressed my concern by stating,

Knowledge of the human condition plays and integral role in Tragedy. Aristotle calls this transition from ignorance to knowledge ‘recognition.’ This is important because life is given meaning through the ironies revealed from that recognition. Knowing the tragic futility of life while continuing to act and extract ourselves from the net of existence is an exalting moral lesson or exercise. There are no answers, no reason to persevere, yet we do.

     In other words, it is not necessarily the victory that is important, but rather the journey. His critic of the struggle was enlightening and right on point. He acknowledges the futility of the struggle but also regards it as an integral part of the human experience and something that is deeply rooted within us all; we have this inherit need to fight against destiny and what we perceive to be injustice. The struggle for elevation is a lesson in morality and works to shape as well as strengthen us as individuals. Arguably it also gives our life meaning, purpose, fulfillment, and teaches us valuable lessons. Perhaps the victory is what we take away from the experience rather than the actual transcendence should we actually beat fate.

     As I looked at the model assignments to further my research journal, I came across Isaac G. Villanueva’s. His title The Value of Learning by Experiencing Tragedy and Africa appealed to me. After all, I had taken this class to expand my horizons. While I have always felt the pull to somehow force academics to include nonwhite and nonwestern texts in their assigned readings, my desire to see literature that is not a bunch of dead white men has only increased. Villanueva’s promised to reflect my concerns. In the beginning of his paper, he addresses the same curiosities I had with the course: how can two seemingly different cultures be combined into one course? Better yet, how can we downplay their differences while playing to their similarities, which must surely be few and far between?

     Admittedly, I was disappointed and felt slightly misled by the title. While the paper occasionally focused on the value and importance of these texts, it primarily centered on their structural similarities and observed their differences in passing. However, I did not go away completely empty-handed as Villanueva also touched on the issue of fate. In his conclusion, he refers to the “tragedy of fate” and calls into question whether or not “tragedy is the product of fate. Is it a form of predestination, a resignation to the will of the gods?” (Villanueva). This was another point that I had not previously considered. Is it only tragic because we are rebelling against our fate or are dealt misfortunes? Is it possible that we cannot escape our destinies regardless of how hard we try? From what I have seen of both African and Greek tragedies, the answer could very easily be yes, tragedy is definitely the product of fate. I really wished that Villanueva would have explored this idea a little more in his paper but it is something I am confident that with enough searching I can find adequate material on.

     I was really surprised by the vast amounts of African literature. Considering that it is hardly ever studied, even in many minority courses I was not expecting the results. I had signed up for Dr. White’s course assuming that his decision to combine African with Greek tragedies was due to the fact that there simply was not a lot of material available in regards to non-western African literature. Needless to say, I was exhilarated and comforted knowing that I could access volumes that would provide me with firsthand experiences of what life was and is like in Africa. Wendy Belcher’s website which both promised and delivered infinite amounts of African texts ranging from oral stories written to modern day novels was inspiring and gave both myself and my non-white friends hope.

     However before my searches and before this course, it had almost seemed that unless you were a prominent white male, you were not “good enough” to be in the canon or your culture was forced to occupy a tiny sliver in an even tinier minority course. So many of my friends who are Hispanic, African, and Asian were always saddened by the lack of diversity in literature courses, and one close friend asked me, “Is it because my people just weren’t writing at this time? Or is it because our writings aren’t as good as the whites?” It was a really powerful moment and I simply did not have the answers for her. I knew there had to be texts that were African, but I did not know of any that were not slave narratives or African-American. She was desperate for something that spoke of her ancestors and her heritage. Who could blame her?

     When I announced to my friend that I was taking a Greek tragedy and African course, she made me promise to provide her with a comprehensive list of the texts we studied so that she could read them and experience her roots. When I informed her of Wendy Belcher’s website and broke the news that there were volumes upon volumes of material that spoke of her experiences, she was delighted. She said to me, “it’s like my people finally have a voice that isn’t touched by or altered by Western society. I can learn about my history and experience my culture in the voice of true Africans. In a white-washed society full of light, there is finally some dark and I can’t wait to bathe myself in it.” Her story coupled with the impact that courses like Dr. White’s and texts that are not touched by Western culture insist upon the necessity for not only more courses like his, but speak to the need to include more of these in non-minority classes. We can no longer make these non-whites feel alienated in literature or allow them to wonder why their culture’s material is not “good enough” for our studies.

     It is important that we are introduced to these types of minority texts because they allow us to connect with cultures outside of our own. We cannot know or claim to understand the suffering, the pleasures, and the way of life of a group of people outside of our own by passively observing what is filtered through the media. We especially cannot understand or know their backstory and history through modern methods either. Picking up books that both chronicle the life as truthfully as possible and texts that are fictional are the best ways to get to know another race on an intimate, almost spiritual level. It is through written words that we come to embrace our differences, accept our different paths, and draw similarities that unite us as more than just human beings on planet Earth.  

Works Cited

Belcher, Wendy. "Early African Literature Anthology Book." Wendy Laura Belcher Website. Web. 20 Mar. 2016.

Beyer, Charles Rowan. "Greek Drama, African Tragedies." Greekworks. Web. 20 Mar. 2016.

Buice, John. The Tragic Irony of Irony in Tragedy.

Villanueva, Isaac G. The Value of Learning and Experiencing Tragedy in Africa.