Skip to main content

How to Beat a Weaponized History

    Historiography sucks. It's one of the most annoying subjects to discuss because of its abstract nature, but Ishmael Reed has created a very compelling study of this that I can't help but explore. However (I just need to complain about this real quick), not only is it very confusing to piece together the big picture, but the book also reads like a bomb went off in a library and the whole mess about its stylistic decisions—not following standard conventions, settings jumping from chapter to chapter, footnotes for some reason, etc.—is the debris. This debris has to exist, though, because trying to tell this chaotic cultural narrative in a straight line makes it even worse.

    Like many of its contemporary works, Reed's Mumbo Jumbo has a very distinct method in how it narrates history. While history is usually read as a passive linear record, Reed uses it as an active battlefield of cultures. The novel puts two fundamentally opposing versions of the past against each other, one being the "official" history of Atonists that might be seen in a textbook, and the other being the "secret" narrative of voodoo practitioners. The former uses history for control while the latter uses history to resist this control. Pitting a monolithic linear history against a fragmented defensive one is the main engine behind Mumbo Jumbo's political and cultural argument. Reed suggests that controlling this narrative of the past is the means to define the present and future, but it is very difficult to get around the inflexible Atonist narrative to do so.

    The Atonists, spearheaded by the Wallflower Order, is a prime example of how history can be abused to maintain dominance and control. They push the narrative towards being the "harbingers of civilization," driven by the Christian religion and the idea of total Western superiority over other groups. This is the justification they develop against forms of cultural expression like Jes Grew. Through taking control over institutions like the New York Sun, the Wallflower Order frames the suppression of voodoo and Harlem jazz culture as a necessary method of defending "civilization." These ideas are very similar to things like Manifest Destiny and it wouldn't be surprising if a similar group had something to do with that in Reed's universe.

    In fact, there actually is concrete evidence that the Wallflower Order and/or its ideological allies have already had their effects on society even before infiltrating the New York Sun. When Hinckle von Vampton publishes the article about the American war in Haiti, the managing editor fires him on the spot because there were orders for the newspaper to not print anything that gets in the way of the "White Man's Destiny" (Reed 59). By controlling channels of preservation, like keeping cultural artifacts locked away in the Center for Art Detention, the Atonists label African traditions as sicknesses or "mumbo jumbo" (title card!), thereby delegitimizing them and ultimately eradicating them.

    On the other hand, those actively supporting Jes Grew like PaPa LaBas and Benoit Battraville have their own counternarrative to defend their identity. The centerpiece of the novel is where LaBas recounts the myth of Osiris, Set, and Moses. This seems like a strange digression, but is actually a strategy of historical warfare. It frames Western civilization's entire foundation as a mere branch of ancient African history that was corrupted by Set, the "...1st man to shut nature out of himself" (Reed 162) and the progenitor of Atonism. LaBas reclaims this portion of mythology by tying it to history, bolstering Jes Grew with a depth and legitimacy that the Atonists can't effectively oppose. His counternarrative also argues that African cultural expressions are the reawakening of an ancient concept and not new social trends that will die away.

    In a way, the form of the novel is a weaponized historical document. It subverts traditional novel setups with things like photographs, dictionary definitions, and footnotes. This collage-like structure is backed up by an intentionally "amateurish" writing style and creates a secondary metaphor against the usual style of a novel as if it's another form of Atonism. Mumbo Jumbo is an example of how to resist a dominant suppressive narrative. The only way to beat this kind of weaponized history is by making a polyphonic counternarrative instead of a impenetrable alternate version.

Comments

  1. The current ubiquity of the term "culture war" to describe what readers of this novel might see as an age-old Atonist/Jes Grew conflict might obscure the fact that this term wasn't in circulation when Reed wrote this novel--so when you describe him (aptly) as narrating a "battlefield of ideas," depicting history as a constant jostling for position, a struggle, a set of perpetual unresolved controversies, you're reflecting the ways in which this novel really embraces the idea that you can't be neutral as a consumer of history, and that a lot is at stake when we align ourselves with a particular historical narrative. I'm reminded of Silverstein's passing remark about how the process of historical debate and dissent can be "thrilling," and indeed I think it's vital that we don't think of history as a dead or "established" discourse that we simply need to internalize and file away--it's a debate, a conversation, and a struggle. And I really like the idea you set out in this post, that the novel's depiction of history as a struggle is in some ways reflected in the bonkers formatting and style of the novel itself. I've come to my own theory about how Reed may have scattered typos and other examples of "sloppiness" throughout his book, while ALSO framing his fiction according to academic conventions of source citation, in order to imply that the Atonists have gotten to it and undermined his authority--"littering their texts with typos" is indeed listed as a classic Wallflower Order move to discredit minority academic work, and maybe Reed is depicting his own novel as a victim of the Atonists? In any case, I think you're right that the book's wild style itself makes a kind of argument about Atonism--to really offer a potent alternative, this "future Text" version of history has to look little like the establishment version. Readers of this novel can't suspect for a second that what they are reading is Atonist disinformation--and in an odd way, the utter madness of the style is "evidence" of its authenticity.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey Leo, I like how you compare the Atonist's narrative to the African narrative, and how Reed uses them to represent real historical narratives. While the book's narration style and overall easiness to read may cause some people to think little of the book's deeper messages, there are genuine historical narratives Reed is challenging through this unconventional and postmodern style. However, I wonder how well Reed's message would resonate with people if he delivered it though a more straightforward and conventional route. Overall, nice post!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hi Leo, great post! I'm reminded of the scene with the lampoons where Atonist culture and people are depicted in a satirical manner. I think Reed wants to do the same with history: the best way to undermine the narratives that are pushed are by making it sound cartoonish, two-dimensional, and goofy.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Was Coalhouse Walker's Retaliation a Valid Crashout?

"Atque aliquis [inquit]... 'exitus acta probat.' Careat successibus, opto, quisquis ab eventu facta notanda putat!" -Phyllis, written to Demophoon (Ovid,  Heroides  2.83-86) Doctorow’s Ragtime is a difficult read because of the many plot points that it strings together so freely. Of these narratives, the most significant is most likely Coalhouse Walker’s transformation from a well-spoken ragtime pianist to a revenge-seeking terrorist. This metamorphosis is outlined by a journey that drags Coalhouse through a corrupt legal system (Doctorow 178, 185) after he encounters the Emerald Isle volunteer firefighting division and his Ford Model T is vandalized by a mob (Doctorow 177). He then resorts to arson, killing 4 random firefighters (Doctorow, 205). Usually, an agitation of this scale isn’t warranted by this background, especially for someone as articulate as Coalhouse, but there are two major points that can semi-rationalize this provoked response: Sarah’s death, and th...