
constructing an African American literary tradition depended almost entirely on written
texts. In
Blues People: Negro Music in White America
(1963) Jones/ Baraka insisted that
tracing the line linking the spirituals to
blues
and
jazz
would help provide a more
comprehensive understanding of African American historical and literary traditions, in
art, because it would necessarily include practitioners and commentators from several
economic classes, social communities and mentalities.
Since the critical and theoretical reconceptualizations of the 1960s regarding what
constitutes the “literary” or what qualifies as “text,” African American literatures are now
recognized as embracing a continuum stretching from ancient African oral tradition to
contemporary avatars of hip hop. The elements of that oral culture (praisesongs, epics,
roverbs, riddles, folktales, etc.) serve as underpinnings for traditions transported,
transmitted and reinvented for the specific locales of seventeenth through nineteenth
century
Cuba,
Brazil, Surinam, Barbados, Richmond or
Boston
. The arbitrary
distinctions between “literature” and the bio-mythographies known as autobiography
have also faded. Slave narratives, the earliest of which appear in the 1750s, are no longer
case histories as much as carefully crafted verbal portraits which share, with so-called
fictive texts, as historian Hayden White affirmed, a concern with plotting, voice,
narration, point of view and more. In Paule
Marshall’s
Praisesong for the Widow
(1983)
Avey Johnson, an upper-middle-class Westchester matron who has undergone a kind o
cultural amnesia is reminded by her deceased Great Aunt Cuney, in the middle of a
Caribbean cruise aboard the
Bianca Pride,
of the importance of telling and transmitting
the stories of the ancestors to successive generations. In undergoing an allegorical
Vodoun initiation, Avey returns to her given name, Avatara, and accepts responsibility
for singing the ancient praisesongs of the would-
e slaves who chose to walk home to
Africa after their middle-
assage transport to a place now known as Ibo Landing. She
also rejects the experiential divides, dramatically alluded to in the Versailles Room which
serves as the cruise ship’s formal dining room, that reinforce apartheid notions o
disciplinary generic and cultural boundaries. That border crossing, a thematic and
methodological pivot of African American literatures, surfaces powerfully in
representative works that defy genre categorization: Jean Toomer’s
Cane
(1923), Toni
Morrison’s
oeuvre and Toni Cade
Bambara’s
Mama Day
(1993).
Contemporary scholars such as Henry Louis Gates, Jr., building on the Harlem
Renaissance-era work of earlier folklorist-narrators, such as Zora Neale Hurston, trace
lineage lines which connect, for example, West African insult poetry to tales such as
“The Signifying Monkey” or the verbal duels of Caribbean calypso. There is an even
shorter distance, moreover, between that cultural amalgam and the African American
insult contests known as “playing the dozens.”
In African American literatures, the word is a powerful tool of creation, destruction
and transformation. Fiction-writer Toni Cade Bambara, among others, attests to a
reoccupation with the potency of logos (word/language) as a key characteristic of an
oral and written literature created by the muted and the unlettered. When that word is
written, the cultural legacy of African American literatures usually begins with Lucy
Encyclopedia of Contemporary American Culture 668