Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Kindred: Historical Fiction Fictionalized

So in Kindred, we see a traditional historical fiction being subverted by the use of time travel, and my question is why? What is the value in this science-fiction-action of a normal historical fiction?

Well, first we must ask ourselves why the use of historical fiction (outside of fiction is how Butler normally writes) to make a point about American slavery. It is possible to make her point in an academic way--that point being the comparison of the slave era to the modern era and how we can't forget or remove the past from the present, along with more--with a formal essay. However, she chooses to write a fiction. Why?

I think this is a relatively straightforward question, but it has multiple levels. The first of these parts is just the making of historical fiction allows the reader to relate in a more emotional basis, and therefore feel the sympathy and anger at slaves and masters respectively. Strangely the historical fiction creates less distance between the present and historical because we are forced to react to it on a deeply personal level, which academic writing or just a history wouldn't force because it doesn't necessarily try to be emotional. If one is reading about facsimiles of people in a fiction, we try to read about them as if they are people that we might meet. Whereas textbook history doesn't create people as 3-dimensional people and we can distance ourselves from them.

Take for example Dana's looking at history in the epilogue. When she is trying to track down all these people she met, and she is using the historical record of the slavery era, but the record is entirely economic. It's names of people that were bought and sold. And despite the fact that we are aware of the horror in the abstract, looking at those documents don't actually induce emotional responses. However, the fictional narrative induces emotions, because it reminds us of how the people were actual people, not just names on a document. And when we are emotionally invested, we can be persuaded in a more human way, than with non-emotional academic writing.

So that is why historical fiction works better than just straight history or academic argumentation. However, Butler doesn't just write a historical fiction, it's science fiction. There's time travel involved, which I think makes the point I mentioned earlier better than any other method. If Kindred is trying show how we cannot remove ourselves from the past, then what better way than to literally bring the past and the present together via Dana and her time travel. Dana's modern perspective allows her to criticize the culture of the antebellum south, but also to see similarities. This is shown when she sees how Rufus and Kevin's similarities. Similarly, when Kevin goes back and feels weirdly ok with some of the things, trying to find a positive, thinking about exploring the west, etc., it is a moment where we see how Kevin's modern perspective makes him dislike the era. However, because the slave era, and present day (for the book) have similarities, and the culture's are very clearly built on each other, Kevin feels strangely at place in the time-period. There are countless scenes like this (which I will discuss more of in the essay I'm writing on this subject), but perhaps the most summative example of the time travel's abilities, is the depiction of Dana feeling off about the strange "I'm home" thought she had about the Weylin plantation. Because she is upset by herself since she has a modern perspective and despises this time period, but the fact that she was able to be initiated into the culture and daily life of the plantation so quickly, and then almost felt like it was home, points to the non-alien culture of the time. It is similar enough to the present that a couple of months was all it took.
(In case you are wondering, my essay will discuss the central idea of kinship--not addressed in this post--within the book, and how it ties into the way the book approaches historiography to make its point.)




      

Friday, April 6, 2018

This is late, but "So It Goes"

I realize I'm posting this after we're nearly done with Kindred, and I also realize that much of the stuff I'm about to say, I have said in comments before, but whatever. I wanted it on my blog. 
What's Vonnegut trying to get us to think about Billy and his perspective? In other words, how much should we agree with "so it goes"?

I don't know but here's what I think so it goes can mean. I think that it can be both a defense of war and a criticism of war. In a way it becomes paradoxical. On the one hand "So It Goes" justifies being passive about violence, because violence will happen. If things just are "so it goes" then we aren't responsible for fixing them. But at the same time, "so it goes" can also mean that we cannot justify war, because it's a very Tralfamadorian thought, and Tralfamadorians have no concept of cause and effect, things just are. So if war just is, it might mean that we can't do anything about it and therefore don't need to try. But also without cause and effect, there is no way to justify violence, there is no cause or reason for the violence. So it goes is both anti-war and pro-war/passive, weirdly. 


Now let's think about Vonnegut. He says that his book fails as an anti-war novel. However, it is an attempt at an anti-war novel. And that would point to us thinking of "so it goes" as anti-war. However, it fails, because the main character seems to be very much in the passive stance to war kind of "so it goes" (not pro-war, just passive). And I think that that's what Vonnegut is doing, he wants us to see both sides, and respect aspects of both of them. For Vonnegut, I think that the passive side might be very comforting because it relieves him of some kind of "survivors guilt". However, he also probably wants his readers to be anti-war, and so he might be asking us to respect the passivity of him, but also to be active ourselves. 

I don't know if Vonnegut is actually using "so it goes" as an out for his own guilt, and using the book to get us to understand him, and also be active. But I do think that the book is anti-war, and therefore Vonnegut is asking us to criticize passivity, the "I couldn't have done anything" mentality, and to be active. That's why Billy isn't heroic. He's not a hero, just a main character. Because we aren't supposed to agree with him. So overall I'd say that "so it goes" is not a mentality that he agrees with. 

Rufus' Villainy

Rufus and Tom Weylin are dangerous in very different ways. Tom cannot be manipulated, but also has no feelings or emotional reasons for atrocities. Whereas Rufus can be manipulated through his emotions, but also can be much more erratic and vicious. And Rufus' qualities do not seem to me like the typical slave-master (or future slave master) villainous qualities. He treats Dana well much of the time, he interacts and talks to these people that he supposedly considers property, as if they are people (albeit lower people than himself). And yet this makes the villainy scarier. Take for example his treatment of Alice.

Rufus wishes Alice loved him, he "loves" her, and her specifically. He actually cares about her, and yet still thinks of her as property, and therefore has no problem thinking of rape as a viable solution to his problems. With both Alice and Dana, Rufus shows a simultaneous belief in the personhood and property-hood of the black people around him. He treats them terribly but does care about them, their thoughts, etc., just only to the point where they do what he wants.

What this does is creates a villain in a slave narrative in a very "realistic" (I don't know if it's actually realistic, but it feels that way to me) way. Because for me it's hard to imagine a person interacting and talking with people the way that slave owners would have had to, and not on some level understand that they had thoughts and feelings. And yet they still held them as property, and still treated them as such in most ways. A slave owner would have had to have known that a slave that he ever talked to had feelings, and still might have raped or done some other thing to them. And that to me is a much scarier and more upsetting depiction of slavery. What Butler shows is a person who understands that someone feels, but still treats them like property and totally gives no shits about their thoughts, and that is terrifying. It is an utter lack of caring, which is made scarier by a slave owner who clearly thinks of Alice and Dana as people much of the time. And as much as it sucks to say it, that's scarier to me than a person who doesn't care but also never even thinks of the slaves as people.