Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass Essay

Frederick Douglass’ Narrative the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, Written by Himself, was first published in 1845 when author was approximately twenty-eight years old, the autobiography was widely circulated and critically acclaimed by his contemporaries. Remarkable for its vivid descriptions, clarity of tone, and powerful rhetoric, Douglass’ narrative details the deplorable conditions suffered by slaves and dispels prevailing myths about slavery (myths that sanitized its evils and that implied that slaves themselves were better off under its rule). Douglass boldly includes the exact names and locations of the persons and events he reproves. Most poignantly, he paints a vivid picture of the emotional and spiritual life of an individual slave, revealing his raw frustrations, intense inner yearnings, fears, and aspirations, making him a kind of â€Å"everyman† with whom sympathetic readers could easily identify. The first eight Books detail Douglass’ life on the Wye plantation and in Baltimore, his awakening of consciousness and broadening perception of a wider world. Books Nine and Ten show Douglass in a state of transition, undergoing a metamorphosis of sorts, whereby a â€Å"slave becomes a man†. It is only in the final book, Eleven, that we learn of Douglass’ determination to escape and his arrival in New York, and Massachusetts. (Out of concern for Douglass’ welfare, and for the welfare of slaves still aspiring to escape, neither the route of his journey nor his means of transport is described). Reading the text within the context of the Hero Quest theme, Douglass is regarded as a man on a journey of self discovery, one who develops, along the way, a thirst for social justice and learns to view with a critical eye reigning institutions and ideologies. Douglass entitles his narrative Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave, Written by Himself. He emphasizes the narrative or account of his life rather than the adventures, thereby elevating the narrative from a mere â€Å"interesting† story to an instructive, conscientious construction and reconstruction of his life.   His title introduces the idea of literacy as an inherent and organic part of his experiences and identity. This bridge, indicated by the comma, intensifies the noun and pivotally designates his narrative as an authorized act, one by which he constructs an identity based on a systematic structuring of details that ultimately leads to the transformation of the man. Douglass sets a paradigm for objectifying his subjective experience by rendering an eyewitness account of slavery that typifies that of most American slaves. Hence, he posits a titular argument to prepare his audience for its (the title’s) inherent claim: he, Frederick Douglass, was a man who was made a slave. Douglass’ Narrative can be examined in light of both its historical and personal contexts. Together, Douglass’ immediate, individual situation, the setting into which he was born, his family and pivotal relationships, his inward struggles and aspirations as well as the wider social and political landscape against which his journey unfolds. In early years he was a slave on a large plantation in Talbot County, Maryland where he lived separate from his family and suffered greatly from hunger and cold. Douglass begins his narrative with riveting details but relies primarily on memory or capitalizes on the lack thereof to prove an argument rather than recapitulate a tale. His descriptions are structured to counter his audience’s stereotypical, inaccurate views. Therefore, he begins with specific details of the geographical location of his birthplace. Born Frederick Augustus Bailey in February 1814, in Tuckahoe, Maryland (he changed his name to Frederick Douglass after his escape to the North), he was the son of Harriet Bailey, daughter of Isaac Bailey, a free man, and Betsy Bailey, the slave of Aaron Anthony. Speaking of his birth and parentage in his first autobiography Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave (1845), Douglass says, I have no accurate knowledge of my age never having seen any authentic record containing it. By far the larger part of the slaves know as little of their ages as horses know of theirs, and it is the wish of most masters within my knowledge to keep their slaves thus ignorant. I do not remember to have ever met a slave who could tell his birthday. They seldom come nearer to it than planting- time, harvest-time, cherry-time, spring-time, or fall-time. A want of information concerning my own was a source of unhappiness to me even during childhood. The white children could tell their ages. I could not tell why I ought to be deprived of the same privilege . . . (13) This statement is followed by descriptions of customs on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. He also includes a description of Captain Anthony’s homestead and Colonel Lloyd’s, plantation to foreground claims that slave masters lived in opulence while their slaves lived in abject poverty. After providing verifiable places and incidents, Douglass substantiates his general claims, an effective strategy that relegates the condition of the slave to circumstances that deny him the â€Å"tools† that would logically empower any human being and which are the inherent rights of the dominant culture. Hence, he uses specifics to makes his subjective experience typical and subsequently ascribes it to slaves generally as well as to himself. Douglass’ account, is inclusive instead of exclusive. Douglass also recognizes familial relationships as cultural determinants of identity. Therefore, he posits the lack of knowledge regarding his parentage as a deterrent for healthy socialization. Although he knows his mother’s name and remembers seeing her a few times, they do not have a mother-child relationship, nor does he know his father. Douglass reports: My mother was named Harriet Bailey. She was the Daughter of Isaac and Betsey Bailey, both colored, and quite dark. My mother was of a darker complexion than either my grandmother or grandfather. My father was a white man. He was admitted to be such by all I ever heard speak of my parentage. The opinion was also whispered that my master was my father†¦. (Narrative 13) Initially, it might be assumed that his mother’s absence and then-lack of intimacy do not affect him during the formative years of his life while he lived with his grandparents, who provided emotional and physical support. In fact, he summarily says, â€Å"I never saw my mother, to know her as such, more than four or five times in my life; and each of these times was very short in duration, and at night† (13-14). In this case, Douglass’ silences only distance him from the text and his mother, thereby objectifying both and intensifying the gravity of the particular performance act in the mother/son relationship, a normative construct within the culture but an anomaly within the slave culture. Although she traveled over twelve miles a night from Mr. Steward’s farm, the place of her employment, risking physical punishment just to spend a few moments with her son, young Douglass was not aware, or chose not to acknowledge, the gravity of her sacrifice, at least not in this narrative. When she died after a short illness, Douglass’ unemotional response is anticipated: â€Å"Never having enjoyed, to any considerable extent, her soothing presence, her tender and watchful care, I received the tidings of her death with much the same emotions I should have probably felt at the death of a stranger† (14), for it is consistent with his argument, which negates the concept of a slave family and its lineage. The mystery that surrounded his parentage haunted him throughout his life and figured prominently in his identity quest. Not knowing his father’s identity or his birthday proved to be a major source of anxiety, for he continuously stressed the importance of knowing one’s birth date and tried to provide an estimation of his age, another determinant of his identity. Douglass says, â€Å"The nearest estimate I can give makes me now between twenty-seven and twenty-eight years of age. I come to this, from hearing my master say, some time during 1835, I was about seventeen years old† (13). In Narrative, Douglass estimates that he is 27 or 28 years old in 1845, and he extends this description and uses this tenuous information as a basis for attacking slavery’s destruction of the family and its perpetuation of ignorance: I know nothing; the means of knowing were withheld from me. My mother and I were separated when I was but an infant—before I knew her as my mother. It is a common custom, in the part of Maryland from which I ran away, to part children from their mothers at a very early age. Frequently, before the child has reached its twelfth month, its mother is taken from it, and hired out on some farm a considerable distance off, and the child is placed under the care of an old woman, too old for field labor. For what this separation is done, I do not know, unless it be to hinder the development of the child’s affection toward its mother, and to destroy the natural affection of the mother for the child. This is the inevitable result. (13-14) This lengthy quotation shows how Douglass uses the assessment of his age, although inaccurate, and the description of his separation from his mother as powerful ammunition for his abolitionist rhetoric. Continuing his attack, Douglass notes the absence of familial ties among slaves and indirectly critiques slavery as a system that bolsters a racial hierarchy that obliterates the legal, unalienable rights of the slaves, placing them outside of human discourse and reducing them to property only in a system of â€Å"glaring odiousness, that slaveholders have ordained, and by law established† (14). Therefore, most women did not have husbands, and children did not know their fathers, although it was common knowledge that in many cases the masters were the fathers. Douglass suspects that he is among this unfortunate group. He concludes that slave masters were the only benefactors: â€Å"This is done too obviously to administer to their own lusts, and make a gratification of their wicked desires profitable as well as pleasurable; for by this cunning arrangement, the slaveholder, in cases not a few, sustains to his slaves the double relation of master and father† (14). Douglass takes a specific, subjective experience and generalizes about slavery. He argues that the family as an institution was nonexistent for the slave, for it was slavery’s aim to destroy the sacredness of the family, one of America’s principal institutions. This argument supports the claim that slavery not only dehumanized slaves, but it also relegated them to the position of other and disconnected them from the mores and conventions of the patriarchy. At age seven he is â€Å"providentially† sent to Baltimore to live with his owner’s son-in-law Hugh Auld. Auld’s kindly wife, Sophia, commences to teach Douglass to read but is halted by her husband who lectures her fiercely about the dangers of educating slaves, pronouncing that literacy would render them â€Å"unmanageable†, â€Å"discontented and unhappy.† Auld’s virulent reaction illuminates for Douglass the power of literacy and its key role in the social domination of one population over another. Upon this realization, Douglass, by his own wit and ingenuity, teaches himself to read, risking severe punishment by devouring in secret every text that comes his way. The Columbian Orator, an anthology of essays on social justice and democracy, especially affects him. Among the essays are Sheridan’s treatise on Catholic emancipation and a fictionalized dialogue in which a slave and his slaveholder debate the merits of slavery, the slave arguing so persuasively that his master sets him free. The Columbian Orator illuminates for Douglass fundamental tenets of human rights and propels him to a new understanding of the philosophical claims against slavery and the enormity of its evils. However, with this expanded consciousness comes new inward distress. Douglass recalls, â€Å"I could at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy†(84). He admits that—feeling trapped and frustrated by his inability to act—†I often found myself regretting my own existence, and wishing myself dead†(85). Still, he is propelled forward by a burgeoning sense of social justice and by a thirst to learn more about slavery and the mysterious term abolitionism. As his awareness grows, he resolves to some day run away. Realizing that he may need to forge his own pass, he sets out to learn to write-cajoling and bribing white boys to teach him, tracing letters on the prows of ships, marking fences with pieces of coal. When Douglass is fifteen, he returns to his owner’s plantation. There, Douglass’ inexperience in the fields is viewed as laziness, and he is sent for disciplinary purposes to the home of Mr. Covey, a tenant farmer renown for his cruel treatment of slaves. Under Covey, Douglass endures repeated physical abuse and incessant, grueling labor. The ordeal nearly destroys Douglass, leading him close to despair, causing him to question God’s very existence. He writes: â€Å"I was broken in body, soul, and spirit. My natural elasticity was crushed, my intellect languished, the disposition to read departed . . .† (105). He recalls standing along the shores of the Chesapeake. Seeing the ships sailing north, he felt the tremendous weight of his enslavement and prayed to God for deliverance: â€Å"The glad ship is gone; . . I am left in the hottest hell of unending slavery. God, save me! God, deliver me! Let me be free! Is there any God? Why am I a slave? I will run away. I will not stand it. Get caught, or get clear, I’ll try it†(107). This secret resolution sustains him amid the dark months with Covey, offering him a glimmer of hope. It is under Covey’s charge that Douglass experiences a pivotal, life-changing event. After suffering several fierce beatings, Douglass flees to his master but is forced to return to Covey, whereupon he is attacked with a horsewhip. Douglass recounts that â€Å"at this moment—from whence came the spirit I don’t know—I resolved to fight; and suiting my action to the resolution, I seized Covey hard by the throat; and as I did so, I rose†(l12). For hours, the two men fight. In the end, Douglass gets the better of his overseer, drawing much blood and winning an unspoken reprieve from further attacks. Douglass assents that â€Å"this battle with Mr. Covey was the turning point in my career as a slave. It rekindled the few expiring embers of freedom, and revived within me a sense of my own manhood. It recalled the departed self-confidence and inspired me again with a determination to be free† (113). The physical confrontations with Covey proved to be the turning point in Douglass’ life. After several brutal whipping, Douglass was overcome by a new sense of power and self-preservation, and assumed authority over his life. As an agent who maintained a defensive posture, which symbolized his confrontation with the dominant power, he not only changed himself, but he also redefined the source of power. Douglass resisted all Covey’s attempts to beat him, proclaiming was resolved to fight, and, what was better still, I was actually hard at it†¦ it is — was the turning point in my ‘life as a slave.’ It rekindled in my breast the smoldering embers of liberty; it brought up my Baltimore dreams, and revived a sense of my own manhood† (54). Maintaining a defensive posture, Douglass was elevated to a new plateau, and his transformation from slave to man was made complete:†Ã¢â‚¬ ¦ I now resolved that, however long I might remain a slave in form, the day had passed forever when I could be a slave in fact† (54).  Ã‚   The triumph in this altercation sets a precedent in the narrative tradition that parallels similar themes in early American writings.   Emotionally free to exercise his intellect and dream of his eventual emancipation, Douglass regained his self-confidence and became a viable leader in the black community where he was physically and spatially enslaved until a traitor foiled his escape plans. After his year with Covey Douglass is sent to a more humane master, where he is able, clandestinely, to teach over forty slaves to read and write. There, with a growing sense of agency, Douglass inspires several of his fellow slaves to join him in â€Å"one noble effort to be free†(122), but on the morning of their intended departure, the conspirators are discovered, beaten, and jailed. Alone in prison, Douglass anticipates that he will be sold to a plantation in the deep south, but miraculously he is sent back to Baltimore and hired out to a shipbuilder. Douglass fares better under this new arrangement: he learns caulking and is granted the autonomy to make his own contracts. Yet even so, he suffers barbs of racism and oppression: he is nearly beaten to death by white shipyard workers; he smarts at the dictate that every cent of his earnings must go to his master. Once again he plots to escape, this time deciding to go it alone, though it requires leaving behind his beloved fellow slaves. As Douglass’ narrative draws to a close, we see him arriving safely first in New York, and then in New Bedford, Massachusetts where Douglass sets up a home for himself and his bride. It is here that Douglass first reads The Liberator (â€Å"The paper became my meat and my drink. My soul was set all on fire†). He befriends William Lloyd Garrison and joins the American Anti-slavery society as a speaker on their lecture tour. Here the narrative triumphantly ends (though, as the students knew from their research, for Douglass it is only the beginning of a long life of activism). In the course of the narrative, we have seen, in Douglass, an evolution of consciousness; the hero grows increasingly aware of and implicated in larger social and political forces. His aspirations widen, his powers of agency increase as he enters directly into the course and flow of historical events. Douglass explores another crucial aspect of the culture and unveils the ignorance that permeated the slave’s life; he exposes the reality that undergirded slavery: â€Å"the white man’s power to enslave the black man† lay in the white man’s ability to keep the black man ignorant (32). Recognizing the pathway to freedom, he became resolute in seeking an education: What he most dreaded, that I most desired, what he most loved, that I most hated. That which to him was a great evil, to be carefully shunned, was to me a great good, to be diligently sought; and the argument which he so warmly urged, against my learning to read, only served to inspire me with a desire and determination to learn. (32) Douglass’ recognition of the parity of literacy and freedom is an epiphany and becomes a distinguishing mark in the development of the slave narrative. Sophia Auld adhered to her husband’s mandate and subsequently embraced his philosophy, but not without sacrificing her humanness. Douglass’ characterization of Mrs. Auld points toward other noteworthy social issues. Her actions suggest that she, like the slave is victimized by a male dominated practice that denied slaves and women educational opportunities as well as other basic freedoms. Therefore, women like Sophia who blindly obeyed their husbands were transformed by the practices of a patriarchal system. Following her husband’s precepts, her â€Å"tender heart became stone, and the lamb-like disposition gave way to one of tiger-like fierceness† as she was divested of her previously esteemed Christian qualities (34). Slavery usurped even the powerful virtues of Christianity, further confusing a skeptical child and providing commentary on religion, another cultural practice. For Douglass, however, the key to freedom was not to be found in religion or social relationships, but within literacy, an empowering, transforming agency.    Works Cited Douglass, Frederick. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave. Ed. Houston A. Baker, Jr. New York: Penguin, 1986.