#eng5480

[zestyzeinabeng5480-blog]

Emotional Healing

Bambara, Toni Cade. The Salt Eaters. New York: Random House, 1980. Print.

Harris, Trader. "This Disease Called Strength: Some Observations on the Compensating Construction of Black Female Character." Wayne State University Libraries. N.p., n.d. Web. 27 Mar. 2016.

In the novel “The Salt Eaters,’ and the article “This Disease Called Strength,” I have found many parallels, mainly, the idea of strength and healing in Black women. The two works share a focus on the emotional healing of Black women and the belief that it is okay to feel pain. In “The Salt Eaters,” I felt very affected by Minnie’s words about one of her patients who had just lost her mother.  “So I say, Sweetheart, what’s the matter? And she says ‘My mama died and I feel so bad, I can’t go on’ and dah dah dah. Her mama died, she's supposed to feel bad. Expect to feel good when ya mama’s gone! Climbed right into my lap,” (Bambara 8). At this point in the novel, I realized the tendency of Black women to feel like they must always be strong, or at least appear to be. Although this patient was just one example thus far, she seems to represent a more general population of Black women, and the attitude of maintaining emotional strength. When Minnie’s patient lost her mother, and felt a very natural and expected pain, she didn’t know how to except the pain she was feeling. Instead, Minnie says that the patient expected to feel happy all the time. To me, this spoke a lot more about society than it did about the individual patient. I did not see her expectations to be happy all the time as a result of her own misconception of the hardships of life and the pain that comes with them. Instead, I saw her push back against her pain as a result of society’s expectation placed on Black females to appear to be strong, happy, and well put together... at all times! This idea society has that a Black woman is not affected by life’s pains in turn results in an unawareness of the normal emotional battles young women deal with, by young Black women. This unawareness could then lead a young Black woman to feel like being sad or heartbroken is not natural, and that she is mentally ill because of it.

Society’s idea of all Black women being “strong” is thoroughly discussed in Trudier Harris’ “This Disease Called Strength.” Harris describes how this attachment of “strength” to Black women is actually more harmful than it is positive. By having to live up to the strong image of herself, a Black woman is forced to be only that - strong. In turn, just as Minnie’s patient feeling extreme emotional pain for the first time, the Black woman begins to feel like something is wrong with her for feeling pain. She will also feel like she is weak for not being as “strong” as this fictional Black woman who is not affected by any emotional distress. Also, as a result of society’s expectations of Black women, they begin to feel alienated from the rest of society. How could a Black woman relay feelings of pain and sadness to people when she is expected to be strong?

Overall, the word “strength,” truly is an epidemic when placed on an entire group of people. An individual Black woman may be strong. All Black women may be strong. But to say for certain that all Black women are strong places unrealistic expectations for Black women within themselves, resulting in even deeper emotional distress. 

[ravenannalove-blog]

In reading Trudier Harris's "This Disease Called Strength: Some Observations on the Compensating Construction of Black Female Characters," one must consider the plight of the African American author to write at all. Toni Morrison, who Harris mentions within the essay, is well known for her dynamic black female characters and for her novels that push the boundaries of racial tension in surreal realities. In this interview, Morrison discusses the pressure imposed upon her to make what she refers to as "the white gaze" the dominant presence in her novels. Within the short clip, Morrison brought up several points that tie in directly to what Harris was getting at, and even expands upon the issue a bit. Toni Morrison was once asked when she'll stop writing about race and why she excludes white characters from her novels. Looking deeper into that question, it would appear that the suggestion is that a "white voice" within the novel would somehow legitimize the work. That without such a presence, it can't be taken seriously and won't be palatable for the masses. Having as much credibility in the field as she does, it's telling that even a writer of Morrison's esteem would face such criticism and be subjected to that kind of pressure. Yet such is the dilemma of the African American writer in general. To put marginalized people at the forefront and to write about the things that impact them is being too exclusionary. However, the white gaze would make it universal? No matter what road the African American writer chooses to trot down, there will inevitably be some burden to bear. They simply cannot win.          

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[nabilahwrites-blog]

'Are you sure, sweetheart, that you want to be well?'

Toni Cade Bambara, The Salt Eaters

[zestyzeinabeng5480-blog]

Bill of Sale and Discrediting Women

Chaucer, Geoffrey. "The Wife Of Bath's Prologue." Poetry In Translation. N.p., 2007. Web.

Naylor, Gloria. Mama Day. New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1988. Print.

The novel “Mama Day” opens with a bill of sale of Sapphira to a Mister Bascombe Wade. While this bill of sale is disconcerting for many reasons, one of the main things that strikes me is a technique that was often used in literature to discredit women from any positive attributes being given to them. In the sale, the seller attempts to make the woman being sold sound more appealing in order to make the sale. Essentially, he describes her in a positive way for her own benefit. However, it is almost as if the seller wants to discredit any good qualities Sapphire may when in the closing statement he says, “Has served on occasion in the capacity of midwife and nurse, not without extreme mischief and suspicions of delving in witchcraft.” The significance of this statement is in one sentence the seller gives the woman being sold credibility, but at the very same time, he takes it away again. Since this is a false bill of sale made by the author, and is about a woman, I am inclined to believe that Naylor is attempting to prove that a woman’s intellect and capabilities are often concealed by men. Beyond this, men often discredit any positive attributes of a woman and tend to instead ridicule and demonize them. This is seen here with the fact that even though Sapphira may have acted as a nurse and midwife before, she was still accused of mischief and witchcraft. The same issue of tearing down any attempt of a woman rising and feminism is seen in “The Canterbury Tales,” specifically “The Wife of Bath’s Prologue.”

In “The Canterbury Tales,” the Wife of Bath is often seen as one of the first feminists in literature. However, her credentials as such are discredited by the author’s language and the dialogue between her and the male characters. She, too, is accused in the prologue of being a wicked woman. One of her ex-husbands in the tale accuses her and all women of being the same evil creatures who play evil tricks and games in order to entrap all men. Although Sapphira and the Wife of Bath were both uneducated through an actual school system, the two women were still very knowledgable and had characteristics of feminists. However, they are discredited through the authors’ demonization and even dehumanization of women in Sapphira’s case. This is significant because it indicates that women, even the capable and knowledgable, will not be given credit and cannot be seen as on par with men in many literary works.

[crystallizedchristelle-blog]

 Aside from being related to my topic for my research paper, I just really want to delve deeper into the “Mother Earth” stereotype/trope/theme that is often found when dealing with black women and their perceived connection with the earth.

I believe that it’s very important to look at the popular idea that the black woman has come from the earth and was harvested as a resources and spread thin during slavery. I like the idea that if the black woman was left alone, there would have been a power found within her as she would have had time for herself to create things. The image of Mama Day having weather manipulation at her finger tips is a great doorway into this topic.

When I made the connection that Mama Day has the same abilities as most favorite comic heroine--Storm--I could not help but to look at Storm in a different light. Both of these characters are involved in the theme of “Mother Earth” while one (Mama Day) seems to be more culturally influenced. 

Looking at this picture of storm reminded me of the cover of the novel. The hands are important to me as you can see their power coming towards their hands--a generator. Seeing black women’s hands and either being unable to see or focus on anything else, reminds me of the hard labor that they had to do. Aside from Storm’s hand’s in the picture--the over all essence of the drawing caught me as very Goddess-like. This got me thinking of many other pieces of art with black women depicted in the same presence as the universe. 

The image of a black woman as being in control of something so grand, something as huge as the cosmos is important to look at. Especially considering Mama Day’s heritage. 

Why did the creators of these women choose that ability? Both women are able to bend nature around them to their will--Mama Day in healing and assistance to her community while Storm is mainly a protector. What does this mean for the super-powered/paranormal inclined black woman in literature? I do not believe that Nylor was choosing lightly when giving Mama Day this ability. Do you believe that there was a hidden or special meaning behind Nylor gifting Mama Day’s heritage the way she did? 

Naylor, Gloria. Mama Day. New York: Ticknor and Fields, 1988. Print

[ravenannalove-blog]

In Tony Joe White’s 1970 song “Conjure Woman,” he sings cartoonishly about a witchy woman secluded by the river and casting dark spells. In a baritone voice lathered in spooky dramatics, he characterizes conjure women using flimsy surface knowledge. The presence of the conjure woman in African and African American folklore and history has been around for ages, but in the mainstream worldview, her reception has not always been positive, nor has the character type always been taken seriously. With clumsy bastardizations of the role like that evidenced in White’s song, it’s not hard to figure out why the reception has been so mixed. What Gloria Naylor does in Mama Day takes the idea of the conjure woman back to its roots and reestablishes her authority.

  Mama Day and her great-grandmother Sapphira are highly esteemed characters. Their roles as mystics are only complements to their roles as matriarchs. Naylor asserts with the novel that the two don't have to be mutually exclusive. That the conjure woman doesn't have to be a stock character, written to fill the void of the "magical Negro" stereotype. Using George as the counterforce to the idea of magic and overall way of life for the people in Willow Springs, the reader has to determine what makes the outside world so practical. Just as they have to confront the sullied, preconceived notion of what it means to be a conjure woman.

Naylor, Gloria. Mama Day. New York: Ticknor and Fields, 1988. Print

[crystallizedchristelle-blog]

Breathe, Eyes, Memory, and Lights Close Reading

“If it is a girl, the midwife will cut the child’s cord and go home. Only the mother will be left in the darkness to hold her child. There will be no lamps, no candles, no more light.”

--Chapter 22, page 146.

 I chose this passage to analyze because it is a powerful image to the relationship between mother and daughter that was displayed so far in the novel. Here, Sophie and her grandmother are witnesses to a birth of a baby girl and while this would usually be a celebration—the moment is saturated in an unspoken grimness.

The frankness of words here is very important to note, especially when grandmother says , “Only the mother will be left in the darkness to hold her child.”

When this was said, I immediately imagined the moment where Sophie was born. The image of Martine holding a child that was a product from a traumatic experience, in a darkened and empty room was jarring. The comment seemed to be all conclusive aside from that, in the way that in the end—there would only be a mother and her child. The baby being unable to see who is holding her and the mother unable to see who she is holding, is an allusion to the complicated relationship between Sophie and her mother. Despite being together in one of the most powerful bonds in the world, both being in the dark together makes them strangers to each other.

[ravenannalove-blog]

Virginity testing is a highly debatable practice that has unfortunately stood the test of time all over the world. In 2015, an independent forensic expert group in Copenhagen, Denmark released an official statement on the utility of the practice from a medical standpoint. Unsurprisingly, the results were less than favorable. On the most basic level, a hymen can be ruptured through various means, rendering such testing completely unreliable in determining whether or not a female is still a virgin. Additionally, the psychological scarring inflicted by the invasive "testing" is understood to cause lasting trauma in the female being subjected to it. With no concrete medical benefits to be gained through one's virginity, one can only assume that the quest for maintaining sexual purity is solely an issue at the core of the individual.

In reading Breath, Eyes, Memory by Edwidge Danticat, the dilemma of virginity testing is brought to the forefront; however, this article presents a new angle in examining what statement is made by Sophie's trauma as the result of her mother's tests. Despite the fact that Sophie has gone to school and made minimal waves for her mother since arriving in America, she is thrown out of her home when she purposely fails her mother's test after breaking her hymen with a spice pestle. Though it may not be a conscious consideration, by throwing her out and assuming that she would go to Joseph, Martine shows that she values her daughter's sexual purity over her general well-being. Sophie's worth becomes defined by something as trivial as a hymen, which again, the article points out is not a clear indication of chastity. Reveling in the depths of tradition, as opposed to good judgment and a basic understanding of the human body, Martine throws Sophie out. Her mother doesn't ask questions, and Sophie doesn't try to explain. They are simply resigned to the further deterioration of their already strained relationship.  

The language used in the article is expectedly clinical. One could not gather from such technical rhetoric that the physical representation of virginity could have so much bearing on the way a young woman fits into society; however, Breath, Eyes, Memory reveals the folly in such an assumption. As important as Sophie's mother claimed education to be, it reads as slightly ironic that should would subject her to such a medically antiquated practice that reveals little to nothing about her actual chastity. As Martine demonstrates, and the article further acknowledges, virginity testing is abuse shrouded under the veil of concern.

Danticat, Edwidge. Breath, Eyes, Memory. New York: Vintage Books, 1998.    Print. P

Independent Expert Forensic Group. “A Statement on Virginity Testing.” Journal of Forensic and Legal Medicine  33 (2015): 121-124.   Science Direct Freedom Collection. Web. 13 March 2015