In Chapter 4 Somerville provides a textual analysis of how both mixed-race identity and interracial desire function and become intertwined with issues of gender inversion and homosexuality in James Weldon Johnson's The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man (anonymously published in 1912, reissued with credit in 1927). Somerville contends that the heterosexual (interracial) marriage that is pursued in the narrative is secondary to the "perverse" desire that is explored in regard to the protagonist's male homosexuality. As she states, "the representation of the mulatto body is mediated by the iconography of gender inversion, and interracial heterosexual desire functions in the text as both an analogy to homosexual object choice and a screen through which it can be articulated" (112). Importantly, the ex-coloured man is an unnamed protagonist, who is constructed as both object and subject of desire through the course of the narrative. "The very proximity of these oscillating racialized and sexualized 'perversions' is integral to Johnson's fascination with, and critique of, his unnamed protagonist" (112).
Like many fictional stories of that time in which the narrative turns on the identification/revelation of the mulatto/a character as other than white, The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man is no exception. The pivotal moment for our protagonist occurs in a classroom setting, when the teacher excludes him from the group that consists of white students. This new "knowledge" leads the protagonist, who we are told has never given much thought to his racial identity, to confront himself in the mirror. This assessment, for Somerville, has as much to do with rethinking gender identity as it is a renegotiation of racial identification. From here, Somerville leads us through the various relationships that stand out through the course of the narrative. Somerville reads the relationships with some of the key male figures in the protagonist's life through the lens of homosexuality. In fact, Somerville argues that although the protagonist's erotic gaze is not directed exclusively at men, "the narrator's homoerotic attachments hold a much more powerful place in the narrative than do his erotic attachments with women" (114). Somerville claims that Johnson makes use of the scenes of homoerotic attachment to destabilize the protagonist's masculinity, which functions as part of the novel's critique of racial passing and clues us in as readers to the narrator's naïveté in regard to race.
At the end of the chapter Somerville moves away from textual analysis to discuss the issues of reading and reception and their connectedness with the ways in which the issues of race and sexuality were constructed and circulated in relation to the publication of the text. Although Johnson himself characterized the narrative as centering around "'some colored man who had married white'" (125) Somerville argues that Carl Van Vechten's introduction, which was published along with the 1927 edition, "made more palpable the imbrications of interracial and homosexual desire, both among characters within the book and between the text and its various audiences" (126). Although he both "supported (and appropriated)" African American's artistic production, as a white gay man, Van Vechten's introduction set the stage for "a position of reading and subjectivity that had as much to do with the sexual as racial subcultures associated with the Harlem Renaissance" (126-127). Finally, Somerville leaves us with the notion that part of the reason there has been ongoing attention given to the Autobiography is because of the ways the text "mapped culturally taboo sexual desires onto the color line," a relationship that was very much a major component of the art and literary scene of the 1920s.
In Chapter 5 Somerville looks at writer Jean Toomer, who is best known for publishing Cane in 1923. Questions of authorship, the commodification of the African-American identity, and Toomer's disidentification with his African-American heritage become central concerns in this piece. Somerville notes that the critically useful notion of passing may be a limited means from which to view Toomer's story in that it "tends to foreground certain questions as it erases others" (133). Thus, Somerville's project here is to shift the existing discussion that was primarily focused on race to a more involved discussion that looks also at issues of gender and sexuality. Somerville draws a link between Toomer and Johnson in "the ways in which their work is concerned with representing racialized masculinity and corresponding issues of sexual orientation" (134).
Somerville then turns to the toolbox of "so-called queer theory" to help try to make sense of Toomer's refusal to "position himself according to the available categories of 'black' or 'white'" (137). After a short disclaimer about her own positionality as a white late-twentieth-century queer academic, Somerville stresses that what is at "stake in this discussion is the extent to which 'race' and 'racialization' are seen as constitutive of sexuality in current attempts to mobilize 'queer' approaches" (137). Somerville is in agreement with Eve Sedgwick who suggests that "queer" is located in the intersections of race, ethnicity and nationality but somewhat at odds with both Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Judith Butler who seem to suggest that queer theory is somewhat separable from critical race theory.
Somerville returns to Toomer to provide some examples of the ways in which he employed and foregrounded the word "queer" in his own writings, which draws our attention to the way "the repeated use of the term seems to complicate and enrich available genealogies of 'queer' and demands to be situated in relation to historical and literary contexts, as well as our own current theoretical understandings of the term" (139). Somerville is also interested in the ways Toomer's writings serve to destabilize the categories of race and sexual desire. Finally, Somerville leaves us with a warning, inspired by Martha Umphrey's writings that caution against a "queer reading that would too easily recuperate its subjects" (164). "What emerges from this discussion is that queer reading is perhaps most useful in resisting any attempt to see race and sexuality as metaphoric substitutes; instead it might insist on marking the ways in which racialization is constitutive of sexuality, and vice versa, in specific historical contexts" (165).
Questions:
1) I'm interested in the notion of authorship that Somerville touches on in Chapter 4. Is Johnson's resistance to being named the first time he published parallel to Toomer's disidentification in relation to his African-American identity? Somerville alludes to the fact that Johnson may have republished in 1927 under his own name because the historical moment had shifted so much so that a queer audience had started to arise. What do we make of this in relation to notions of authorship and identity?
2) It might be useful/interesting to return to a question that Somerville poses on page 163 that gets to the heart of the issues at hand (in Chapter 5 specifically) and that is "How might Toomer's gesture of racial disidentification, his refusal to adhere to a system of naturalized racial difference, be connected to the proliferation of 'queer' in his work?" and "Does this connection relate to the current work of queer reading?" Somerville admits that these are questions that are difficult to resolve, nevertheless it may be worth discussing.
3) In Chapter 5 Somerville leaves us with the ambiguous notion that it is impossible to predict what kind of response a queer reading may elicit. Are there ways to frame an argument so as to be more likely to elicit the response you may expect? Or is that beside the point of doing a queer reading?
4) What do we think of the idea of queer theory being inseparable or separable from critical race theory? Are there arguments to be made for both positions? Clearly, Somerville makes a strong case for the merging of the two fields, or a least using the tools of queer theory to get at some of the key issues for critical race theory and vice versa.
5) Why does Somerville qualify queer theory by calling it "so-called queer theory" at the same time that she obviously relies heavily on the work that has been done by queer theorists and positions that work as central in her analysis? (136). In fact, she herself identifies as a queer academic so the qualifier seemed out of place to me.
Great questions, Liora. I think she left a lot of the "chewier," big-picture stuff for these last two chapters. To be honest, I was sort of back-and-forth with Somerville throughout the book. On the one hand, I found it tremendously useful to show the inseperability of race and sexuality, and her case studies in chapters 1 and 2 seemed to me more right-on than the last three chapters. I think troubling and digging deeper into the concept of "intersectionality" is very important, and it's something Somerville does well. That is--one is not raced, and then at another time sexualized, but rather they happen in a more complex temporal simultaneity, and because of that, they have manifest themselves in law, medicine, media, etc. in confounding ways. So in this sense, I think queer theory offers us something. It allows us to see the way that race, like any other "deviant" social phenomenon, has gone from historically criminalized to pathologized to otherized to stigmatized, and still, both race and sexuality are disenfranchised through government-sanctioned policy and legislation.
But I honestly lost her a bit when the book turned into more straight-up literary criticism. While it was an interesting theory exercise to pontificate about the homoerotic nature of Johnson and Toomer's work, I'm not sure what is gained through this analysis. She tries to contextualize her reading, which I appreciate as most crit lit does not do so, but this is when she starts in with a lot of disclaimers like "Frankly, it may not be useful to call Toomer's racial disidentification 'queer'" (163). So it's almost like she too is becoming aware that this may not be the best project....It's also curious to me that Munoz is not evoked once. His book, DISIDENTIFICATIONS, was published the year before QtCL, so it's possible it just wasn't there for her to read while she was writing, but it was a glaring omission for me that might have been worth going back and doing some last-minute editing....I bring that up because Munoz has proven to me the necessity of doing queer readings of race/racialized performance.
Class discussion idea:
Would it maybe be fun to bring in the contemporary example of "The Kids Are Alright," to talk about race and sexuality through Somerville's framework? How might she read the way the people of color are portrayed in this "gay film." It'd be sort of a switch--instead of reading a race text for queer stuff, we'd read a gay text for race stuff, but doing it through Somerville's method of seeing them as sort of inextricably linked. This would work only if enough of the class has seen it of course....Or are there clips we could show?
Um, I'd be up for that seeing that it is my PROJECT IDEA for this class. =)
I have the DVD but it is currently lent out. I'll see if I can get it back in time for class.
Hi! I wanted to response to Raechel's comments about the Toomer chapter. I really made myself read that chapter because I often gloss over lit crit. I really liked that chapter and found Toomer's dealings with race really interesting and eye opening. I just took in the chapter without a deeper look. It was all sort of new to me! But I think our different opinions may be rooted in a general idea about academia and grad seminars. Clearly you, Raechel, have read about this before and even read Munoz's work. So you have a few more layers to peel back when reading this. I, on the other hand have read nothing of the sort, so I am starting from scratch here. I wonder how much this disrupts class discussion (not good or bad, just disrupts). I know we have seen this is other classes too. How do we deal with this?
Also to you both: I watched the trailer for The Kids Are Alright. Can you just tell me whether the sperm donor has sex with one of the moms? I am sorry...I just have to know! Any other sex scenes you may also share. I am actually curious how the lesbian sex happens...seems like a fairly mainstream movie.
SPOILER ALERT:
Mel, yes, as you suspected the sperm donor has sex with one of the moms (Jules). The lesbian sex is in bed (no nudity) watching gay male porn and with the sound of the whirring vibrator -- no energy, no excitement. The sex between Paul and Jules and Paul and his African-American hostess however is full on nudity and portrayed with a lot of excitement and energy.
in response to Raechel's comment-I'm actually having trouble with this aspect of literary criticism in my masters project... I recently had a professor suggest that I investigate the sexuality of the artistic team that produced the graphic novel series im working with... I feel like investigating this gets too involved in arguing the intent of the author and makes it difficult to investigate the text on its own terms. I was wondering how ppl felt about this investigation of Toomer's sexuality?
I also wanted to comment on Munoz and Disidentification, which I have also found useful regarding the importance of queer scholarship and its connections and implications regarding race. For some reason, I don't think I hold a grudge against Somerville for not citing him. I think it has to do with the fact that they were writing at pretty much the exact same time. They were basically parallel projects. I bet, however, that Somerville would certainly have some interesting comments on Munoz's project -- which you can ask her about on Friday!
thank you for answering my questions. vibrator noises ARE so non-sexy. with all this technology you'd think they could could emit some other sort of noise. like judith butler lecturing about walks or something.