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L. Adam Mekler
English 102.09
Prof. Mekler
May 10, 2013
“Freedom found me”: Their Eyes were Watching God and the Slave Narrative Form
In The Sexual Mountain and Black Women Writers, Calvin Hernton identifies Alice
Walker’s The Color Purple as a twentieth-century example of the slave narrative genre, in
which the more traditional focus–the dehumanizing effects of racial slavery–has been
replaced by a different one–the dehumanizing effects of sexual slavery within the African
American community (6). An important text to examine in exploring the transition thus
achieved is Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God. Although its portrayal of
the debilitating effects of sexism among blacks certainly is not as vivid as that found in
Walker’s novel, its status as an essential literary influence on Walker requires an examination
of the characteristics it shares with the “traditional” slave narrative. Hurston’s portrayal of
institutionalized and internalized sexism and its effects on the character of Janie Crawford,
while foreshadowing Walker’s treatment of the topic, is presented in a format reminiscent of
such woman-authored narratives as Harriet Jacobs’s Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, as
well as narratives, including Frederick Douglass’s Narrative of the Life, written by men.
Consequently, it represents a bridge between the narratives of the nineteenth and the late
twentieth centuries.
Exploration of this topic must focus on Janie’s relationship to folk culture in the novel,
especially its oral components, a relationship that involves Janie’s movement from alienation,
from self and others, to connection and identity. In this way, Janie’s journey replicates what
Frances Smith Foster describes as a plot technique typical of male narrators: “They depict
themselves as conditioned into accepting themselves as chattel and then as awakening to their
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humanity and the possibilities of living self-defined lives” (95). But while male slaves frame their
discussion of this topic in terms of race, Janie describes her struggle to define herself
primarily in response to the oppressive practices of her three husbands, who alternately try to
make her a mule, a sexual commodity, or a combination of the two, thus establishing a
connection to women’s slave narratives.
Of course, racial considerations are not totally absent from Hurston’s novel. From the
beginning of Their Eyes, parallels in the discussion of race can be drawn between Janie’s
narrative and those of her enslaved predecessors. For example, Janie describes her childhood
as one that is relatively carefree, at least until the imposition of a racial identity. She
describes looking at a photograph at the age of six, unable to recognize her own dark face
among the white faces that surround it. When she is finally pointed out, she exclaims in
surprise, “Aw, aw! Ah’m colored!” (Their Eyes 9). Suddenly, young Janie’s perspective
requires revision. Taking her cues from the white children of the white family on whose
property she lives with her grandmother, Janie fails to develop a separate sense of herself.
Similarly, because of the variety of names given her by the members of the family, Janie is
prevented from developing a clear identity.
Their playful epithet for her, Alphabet, reveals
such an identity to be unnecessary. She is whoever they want her to be at the moment. Later,
Nanny explains the larger implications of this phenomenon to an adolescent Janie: “You
know, honey, us colored folks is branches without roots and that makes things come round in
queer ways” (15). Drawing on her experiences in slavery, Nanny can speak of the soulconquering consequences of having one’s identity defined by white superiors, to the detriment
of strong family connections.
Similar situations are described by various women slave narrators, including Harriet
Jacobs, who describes her own awakening racial consciousness, also occurring at six years
old. “When I was six years old,” she relates, “my mother died; and then, for the first time, I
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learned by the talk around me, that I was a slave” (211). As with Janie, Harriet must depend on the
reactions of other people to her in order to establish a sense of who she is. At the same time,
even more so than Janie, young Harriet experiences a “rebirth” into the world of racial
oppression juxtaposed with the death of her mother, whose death becomes symbolic of the
demise of Harriet’s sheltered ignorance.
Significantly, it is through the vehicle of language that Harriet’s realization arises.
Although the identities of the “talkers” are not specified, Jacobs’s description of them “around
me” delineates her exclusion from that conversation. Her silencing exemplifies the
suppression of the collective voice of her race by the machinery of slavery and underscores
the key to its perpetuation. Only when slaves—and other victims of oppression—are able to
voice their experiences through written and spoken narratives can they begin their progress
toward emancipation.
In Hurston’s novel, the importance of verbal expression in this journey is a central
theme. Hurston describes, “These sitters had been tongueless, earless, eyeless conveniences
all day long. Mules and other brutes had occupied their skins. But now, the sun and the
bossman were gone, so the skins felt powerful and human. They became lords of sounds and
lesser things” (Their Eyes 1). In contrast to their enslaved ancestors, who could never escape
their position as virtually senseless “brutes,” these people do enjoy a respite from their
oppressive working conditions, and they take advantage of these breaks to develop a folk
culture heavily dependent on voice.
For Janie then, as a black woman, the question is whether she will be allowed to
utilize the power of voice to separate herself from the “mules and other brutes” of the
community. Of course, she does eventually achieve this status when she defends herself
against Jody Starks’s incessant criticism of her, asserting her voice in the most public arena in
Eatonville, the village store: “’Naw, Ah ain’t no young gal no mo’ but den Ah ain’t no old
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woman neither. Ah reckon Ah looks mah age too. But Ah’m a woman every inch of me, an Ah
knows it. Dat’s uh whole lot more’n you kin say. . . . Humph! Talkin’ ’bout me lookin’ old!
When you pull down yo’ britches, you look lak de change uh life!’” (Their Eyes 75). Here,
Janie attacks Joe in a most personal way, asserting her own continued sexuality in contrast to
Joe’s increasing impotence. In fact Janie’s use of the phrase “change uh life” categorizes Joe
more negatively as a menopausal woman. Thus, Janie defeats Joe on his own terms and in his
own arena, establishing before him and the rest of the community her importance as an
individual by reclaiming the precise quality—her sexuality—that has given Joe much of his
enhanced status as a man in the town. By reasserting her own ownership of herself, she
removes a crucial prop upon which Joe has built his self-image.
In doing so, Janie echoes the victory achieved by Frederick Douglass over the
“slavebreaker” Mr. Covey, an event that represents a pivotal point in his narrative. Douglass
introduces his discussion of this episode by suggesting, “You have seen how a man was made
a slave; you shall see how a slave was made a man” (340). For Douglass, as for Janie, there is
a circular route to emancipation. A period of spiritual degradation precedes the moment of
assertion. Both Janie and Douglass are conditioned to accept their status as an inferior brute
before beginning the journey to spiritual liberation. After besting Covey, Douglass explains,
“I now resolved that, however long I might remain a slave in form, that day had passed
forever when I could be called a slave in fact” (344). Just as Janie does, Douglass reclaims
possession of himself by threatening Covey’s self-image—and public image—as a “first rate
overseer and niggerbreaker” (344). It is indeed Covey’s desire to maintain his public image
that prevents him from having Douglass publicly flogged for raising a hand to a white man
(344). From this point, Douglass achieves the confidence and resolve required eventually to
achieve his actual freedom.
In Janie’s situation, however, the transformation from human to brute and back to
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human is more subtle, as is the oppression she endures. Unlike Douglass, Janie faces a double
domination, based on both race and gender, and it is the latter of these characteristics that
receives the greatest consideration in the novel. It is Janie’s status as a woman, more so than
her status an African American, that makes her a commodity. As Nanny tells her, “‘Ah can’t
die easy thinkin’ maybe de menfolks white or black is makin’ a spit cup outa you’” (Their
Eyes 19—emphasis added). Mistreatment at the hands of men is a burden Nanny knows too
well, from her own experiences and from those of her daughter, Leafy, whose rape by her
schoolteacher leads to Janie’s birth. Ironically, however, Nanny’s attempt to protect Janie
from a similar experience serves only to confirm her fate. Disregarding Janie’s wishes,
Nanny ostensibly delivers her granddaughter into the possession of Logan Killicks, a man
who will attempt to be her master. Looking back later on this chain of events, Janie uses what
Sandra Pouchet Paquet refers to as “the odious terms of race” (190) to describe herself: “She
had been set in the marketplace to sell. Been set for still-bait” (Their Eyes 86). Despite his
initial claims to provide a good home for her, Logan eventually expresses his true belief
regarding Janie’s role in their marriage: “‘You ain’t got no particular place. It’s wherever Ah
need yuh’” (30). Expressing a mentality reminiscent of a slaveholder, Logan denies Janie the
right to decide where she is to be.
In what at first appears to be a fortuitous circumstance, Janie does in fact escape this
situation, but in doing so, she succeeds only in switching masters, as Jody’s treatment of her
serves to degrade her even further. In fact, Jody succeeds where Logan fails: he conditions
Janie to accept her status as an inferior creature, and he does so by denying her the most
important of powers, her voice, which is the source of identity in the folk community. Upon
his establishment as mayor, Jody asserts Janie’s muteness: “‘Thank yuh fuh yo’ compliments,
but mah wife don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no speech-makin’. Ah never married her for nothin’
lak dat. She’s uh woman and her place is in de home’” (Their Eyes 40-41). As Jody’s wife,
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Janie learns, her role is not an interactive one. She is to be looked at and admired, yet must remain
silent.
As a result of Jody’s suppression of her, Janie is unable to establish strong connections
to the other members of the community. Nevertheless, she periodically attempts to gain a
link. For example, when Jody “liberates” Matt Bonner’s mule, Janie finds her own tongue
temporarily freed. “ ‘Dat wuz a mighty fine thing fuh you tuh do,’” she tells him before the
crowd of porch-sitters. “‘Abraham Lincoln, he had de whole United States tuh rule so he
freed de Negroes. You got uh town so you freed uh mule. You have tuh have power tuh free
things and dat makes you like uh king uh something’” (Their Eyes 55). The association
between blacks and mules confirms Jody’s influence over the community, but more
specifically over Janie herself, whose destiny to become another workhorse for Logan
Killicks he has prevented only to imprison her in another way. Sharon Davie reveals, “This
part of the free mule story in a sense supports the hierarchical status quo. . . . The black man
has more power than the black woman does, because he can name another living thing as
‘free’”(449). Jody expresses this power when the time comes to bury the mule, as he makes
sure Janie won’t repeat her oratory performance: “‘You ain’t goin’ off in all dat mess uh
commonness. Ah’m surprised at yuh fuh askin’’” (Their Eyes 56). Following this
peremptory gesture, Janie succumbs to Jody’s command and suffers in silence for years
before the crucial scene in the store. Paquet suggests that Janie “assumes the survival mask of
the slave until Joe humiliates her publicly by announcing that he no longer finds her
attractive” (191). Already set up as a commodity based on her sexuality, Janie can not
withstand this final public assault on her self-esteem. Her equally public response—which
suggests that Joe is impotent—allows her to reclaim her voice and reestablish a more positive
identity.
While Janie’s victory in this verbal sparring match with Jody hastens his death and
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gives her the freedom to make a more rewarding match with Tea Cake, this next marriage also
contains elements of ownership. Janie proclaims, “Us is goin’ off somewhere and start all
over in Tea Cake’s way. Dis ain’t no business proposition, and no race after property and
titles. Dis is uh love game” (Their Eyes 108). Finally, Janie suggests, she seems to be
fulfilling her own desires by marrying Tea Cake. But, despite her attempt to distinguish this
relationship from those with Logan and Jody, respectively, Janie is unable to eliminate
economic considerations from their union.
At first, of course, their relationship is a very positive one. “When Janie returns his
love with her own commitment,” Paquet explains, “she has a place in the heart of the folk
community, a place to recover herself in racial and sexual terms” (191). Tea Cake does
indeed offer Janie the opportunity to express herself more freely than she has with either of
her first two husbands. For the first time, a man tells her to “‘have de nerve tuh say whut you
mean’” (Their Eyes 104). Following his suggestion, Janie enjoys a whirlwind courtship,
finally agrees to marry him, and follows him to the Everglades, where a less romantic side of
Tea Cake appears.
In fact, almost immediately after their elopement, Tea Cake begins to take ownership
of Janie. A week after their wedding, Tea Cake steals the two hundred dollars Janie has kept
hidden from him (Their Eyes 113). When she accepts his explanation that he simply has acted
upon a desire to feel like a rich person, he confidently asserts, “‘From now on you’se mah
wife and mah woman and everything else in de world ah needs’” (119). Once again, Janie has
become a prized possession for her husband, whose self-image is dependent upon his
perceived wealth, both financial and sexual.
Apparently, ownership of Janie includes the same right to determine her proper place
as is earlier demonstrated by Logan and Jody. When he reveals his plan to win back her
money, Tea Cake tells her, “‘Dis time it’s gointuh be nothin’ but tough men’s talkin’ all kinds
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uh talk so it ain’t no place for you tuh be’” (Their Eyes 119). Shortly after they arrive at the
Everglades, Tea Cake makes a similar gesture when he convinces her to join him in the bean
fields because he “‘gits lonesome out dere all day’” (126). Finally, when he is in the throes of
his rabies-induces delirium, he calls out to her, “‘Neb’ mind ’bout all dat cleanin’ round de
front yard. . . . You stay where Ah kin see yuh’” (172). Janie’s acquiescence to each of these
suggestions shows that hers is a “self-crushing love” (122). Here, she makes room for Tea
Cake at the expense of herself.
Another benefit of ownership that Tea Cake enjoys is truly reminiscent of antebellum
days. When his unfounded jealousy of Janie becomes too strong for Tea Cake, he beats
Janie—“Not because her behavior justified his jealousy, but it relieved that awful fear inside
him. Being able to whip her reassured him in possession” (Their Eyes 140). Like a slave
master or overseer, Tea Cake sends a clear message to Janie and to those around her that she
is his property and he can do with her what he likes. He tells Sop-de-Bottom, “‘Janie is where
Ah wants tuh be. . . . Ah wouldn’t be knockin’ her around. Ah didn’t wants whup her last
night. . . . Ah beat her tuh show dem Turners who is boss’” (141). Threatened by the colorstruck Mrs. Turner’s plans to convince Janie to marry her lighter-skinned brother, Tea Cake
“takes control” by using a method well established by his male predecessors, both white and
black.
Even after she kills Tea Cake in self-defense, Janie is not immediately liberated, as she
is faced with imprisonment for his death. But finally, in the courtroom, she is able to use her
voice to achieve her total independence. Only after telling her story—and not replacing one
husband/master with another—can she enjoy a more complete freedom. In this respect, her
courtroom speech becomes a type of slave narrative in itself, with which she can negotiate her
release. “She didn’t plead to anybody. She just sat there and told and when she was through
she hushed” (Their Eyes 178). Speaking to the all-white and all-male judge and jury, Janie
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goes to the source of power to tell her story. Like a fugitive slave, though, she remains in a
precarious position until they grant her a more permanent release: “So she was free and the
judge and everybody up there smiled with her and shook her hand. And the white women
cried and stood around her like a protecting wall” (179). Ironically, in a novel in which
whites have been mentioned so sparingly, they emerge in the end as a reminder that race can
never be totally forgotten. Given credence by the white folks, Janie’s story is finally accepted
by the other members of the African American community, who embrace her again after two
days of demanding her death for the murder of their favorite son. Her narrative also has a
positive effect on another black woman when she delivers it to Pheoby, who declares that she
“‘done growed ten feet higher from jus’ listenin’ ’” (182) and is eager to establish a more
rewarding relationship with her husband. Nevertheless, the most significant results come
from those in the position of the most power.
This imposition of race in a novel that has tried to avoid it is an ironic one. In “Art and
Such,” written shortly after the publication of Their Eyes Were Watching God, Hurston
examines the state of African American literary production at the end of the 1930s and
expresses a frustration with her contemporaries’ concentration on race relations in their
writings. The writer immediately following the Civil War, she explains, “had to spend some
time, a generation or two, thinking out his thoughts and feelings he had during centuries of
silence” (140). As writers like Douglass and Jacobs make clear, the assumption of voice is a
powerfully liberating force, but, Hurston suggests, that voice need not always be focused on
the negative: “There has been a cruel waste of genius during the long generations of slavery.
There has been a squandering of genius during the three generations since Surrender on Race”
(144). Hurston reveals a need for literature of a more celebratory nature, and Their Eyes
certainly remains a testament to the vibrance and resilience of the African American, even in
the midst of oppression. Though she received criticism for focusing so exclusively on the
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interactions within the black community rather than between blacks and whites, this focus allowed
her to explore the significant issue of the relationships between black men and black women.
Building on the tradition developed by Hurston, Alice Walker’s more critical
examination of the negative aspects of this relationship in The Color Purple created greater
controversy a half a century later when critics claimed that such an “honest” account of
intraracial oppression might increase interracial prejudice. Of course, similar concerns about
the issues of privacy and disclosure had also been made over a century earlier by Southern
slaveholders who didn’t see the need for Northerners and other “outsiders” to understand the
ugly details of the relationships fostered by their “peculiar institution.” The slave narrative
genre, both in its fictional and autobiographical forms, continues to counteract such dangerous
logic.
This paper is copyrighted 2013 by L. Adam Mekler, Ph.D. All rights reserved.
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Works Cited
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Douglass, Frederick. Narrative of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Written By
Himself. Norton Anthology of African American Literature. Ed. Henry Louis Gates
and Nellie Y. McKay. NY: Norton, 1997. 302-69. Print.
Foster, Frances Smith. Written By Herself: Literary Production by African American
Women,1746-1892. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1993. Print.
Hernton, Calvin. The Sexual Mountain and Black Women Writers: Adventures in Sex,
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Hurston, Zora Neale. “Art and Such.” Go Gator and Muddy the Water: Writings by Zora
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---. Their Eyes Were Watching God. NY: Harper & Row, 1990. Print.
Jacobs, Harriet. Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Norton Anthology of African American
Literature. Ed. Henry Louis Gates and Nellie Y. McKay. NY: Norton, 1997. 20845. Print.
Paquet, Sandra Pouchet. “The Ancestor as Foundation in Their Eyes Were Watching God and
Tar Baby.” Callaloo 13. 3 (1990): 499-515. Jstor. Web. 10 April 2013.