Month: February 2024

Fractals are mathematical structures that take a seed shape, or a base shape, and build more of that shape onto itself. Fractals can be used by algorithms to create things or, in culture, it can be used in day to day life. For instance, in African culture, fractals are used in architecture to separate sacred structures from everyday ones. In his book “African Fractals,” Ron Eglash talks about how the more sacred areas or pieces of architecture are placed at the center, and are the seed shape, while everything around it builds off of its structure, the sacredness of the areas decreasing with each layer. However, the idea of fractals can be applied to other aspects of life, such as literature. Literature can be connected through the use of fractals. Key concepts can be applied to several other texts, connecting them through one “seed shape” that is found in these similar texts. This course, African American Literature, involves topics that continually build off of each other, are connecting one to the other, and relate back to the beginning. For this reason, the course works similarly to that of fractals. Whereas in fractals shapes are used to build off of each other to create something, in this course, our texts and writings are connected to each other by, and are built on, key concepts. These key concepts, therefore, become our seed shape.

When approaching literature, it is important for people to read with an open mind, and be aware of what is being laid out for them. People can turn a reading into something it’s not, by being unaware of the author’s intentions. Furthermore, people can glance over important details that the author strategically places for the readers. For this reason, it takes close reading skills to be fully aware of what is being laid out for you in the text. This is also why it was so important to use close reading when approaching texts such as “Bloodchild” by Octavia Butler, “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave” by Fredrick Douglass, and “Everyday Use” by Alice Walker. These readings are made up of sensitive text, and therefore it is important to have awareness of what you are reading, and understand how to interpret it. 

Octavia Butler’s “Bloodchild” is a science fiction story about humans on another planet, where a family is owned by a bug-like creature called T’Gatoi. Although there are many different ideas for why the story was written or what its underlying meaning is, there are a few parts of this story that some people may think could hint towards the story being about slavery. For example, the T’Gatoi has ownership of the family. If they ask something of someone in the family, they do it with no questions asked. Furthermore, the older brother in this text attempts to run away, but fails to do so because there is nowhere left to go. Lastly, the T’Gatoi withholds essential information about the future of the main character’s life involving pregnancy and the contents of becoming pregnant. These three components of this story correlate with many stories about slavery, and for this reason it may be easy for some to assume that it is about slavery. However, this story is followed by the afterword, in which the author explains their intentions for writing the story, and what the main idea is versus what it is not. And Butler explains that this story is not, in fact, about slavery. In her afterword, Butler says “It amazes me that some people have seen “Bloodchild” as a story of slavery. It isn’t. It’s a number of other things, though”(Butler, 30). There are those who would read “Bloodchild” and interpret it as a story about slavery, but because they would not take advantage of the information available and laid out to them, they interpret the text incorrectly. This is just one example underlying the importance of being aware of the information provided to you.

Another example of this key concept is in the “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave” by Fredrick Douglass. In this text, Douglas shares his experiences when he was a slave. In his text, Douglass claims to keep information from his readers about how he escaped from slavery, specifically the path he took. The readers, myself included, may have been disappointed in this withholding of information, despite his efforts to make sure people could still use that route to escape by keeping the route a secret. However, Douglass does, in fact, provide this information for his readers. “I will take to the water. This very bay shall yet bear me into freedom. The steamboats steered in a northeast course from North Point. I will do the same; and when I get to the head of the bay, I will turn my canoe adrift, and walk straight through Delaware into Pennsylvania. When I get there, I shall not be required to have a pass; I can travel without being disturbed”(Call and Response, 299). The readers may pass over this text, as he is describing what he would do if he were to escape, but in reality he is explaining the route he took when he escaped. Douglass provided this information to the reader, hiding it in his text. This is another example of why it is important to pay attention to the text, and be aware of what the author is providing in their text.

My last example of this key concept is in “Everyday Use” by Alice Walker. This story is from a mother’s perspective when her eldest daughter comes home to visit her mother and sister. However, when she returns, she is different. She is dressed differently, and she changed her name, saying she doesn’t want to be “named after the people who oppress me”(Call and Response, 1799). She asks for her grandmother’s quilts that were supposed to be given to her younger sister to use for what they were made for, but she wants to hang them up in her house. In this text, the older sister is depicted as being ungrateful, and wanting to escape her biological culture. However, what the text doesn’t show is the struggles of a Black American woman trying to assimilate to the culture around her, as well as remain true to Black culture. The readers are provided with only the mother’s perspective, and she is an unreliable narrator. For this reason, it is important to be aware of who is telling the story that you are reading, and whether or not that narrator is reliable. This is once again an example of the importance of being aware of what is available and given to you, and to make your own conclusions about the text instead of relying on the original narration. 

This key concept matters because it can apply to future texts, as well as other aspects in life. Though it is very important to be aware of the information given to you in texts, whether that means taking advantage of what the author is giving you or being aware of who is narrating a story, it is just as important to apply this concept to everyday life. It is also important to be aware of what people say, where you get your information, who is giving information, etc. Not everyone is reliable, and at the same time, it is important to look closely at and pay close attention to what people say. Therefore, the idea of being aware of what is laid out for you is an important key concept when reading as well as in real life.

When first introduced to N.K. Jemisin’s novel The Fifth Season, I did some light research. I quickly found that it was a science fiction text. I had very little knowledge of science fiction, so I dug for a little more information. As defined by Dartmouth Libraries, science fiction is defined as “stories involving conflicts between science and technology, human nature, and social organization in futuristic or fantastical settings.” (Dartmouth Libraries, 2024) As I began engaging with the text, I found this definition to be true of what I had been reading, but soon realized this text was much more than imaginative and futuristic concepts. Themes of power, oppression, and prejudice began to emerge that parallel the real world.

            Jemisin uses orogenes, people who have power to control seismic events, to portray hierarchies and inequalities very similar to the ones that surround us. The Fifth Season takes place on a continent referred to as The Stillness, where seismic activity occurs regularly. Throughout the text, we meet several orogenes who face discrimination for their powers, typically from “stills”, those who do not have powers. Non-orogenes fear orogenes and view them as monster-like creatures. Non-orogenes are taught to view orogenes as threats to society and feel as though they have the right to hurt them if that is what is deemed necessary to protect others from orogenes powers. However, there are even inequalities within the orogenes that seem to be represented in a hierarchy.

            As far as racializing we see amongst orogenes and stills, one prime example creates the overall plot for the text. Jija, a non-orogene, killed his own son Uche after finding out he was an orogene. We see this on page 58 when it says, “these people killed Uche. Their hate, their fear, their unprovoked violence. They. (He.) Killed your son. (Jija killed your son.)” We see the prejudice in this quote as the words “hate” and “fear” are used to describe non-orogenes feelings towards orogenes. Uche was killed due his ability to control and create seismic events. This control over something that seems incontrollable allows non-orogenes to feel threatened in their society, causing them to react through violence.

We see another instance of discrimination against orogenes when Syenite and Alabaster, both orogenes, are sent on a mission to remove coral for non-orogenes. While on this mission, Syenite and Alabaster converse with the deputy governor of Allia, a community on the shore of The Stillness, named Asael. Asael speaks with the orogenes as people beneath her. The orogenes are told to make stills feel safe. However, Syenite quickly becomes frustrated by the lack of respect she is receiving from Asael. (Duerheimer, 2024) Syenite says, “And yet you haven’t shaken our hands, Asael Leader. You didn’t look us in the eye when we first met. You still haven’t offered that cup of safe that Alabaster suggested yesterday” (215). It is clear that Asael is leery of the orogenes, too afraid to touch them and look them in the eye. While this is an interaction between one still and two orogenes, Asael’s biases are learned and reflect those of the other stills in her community. Therefore, while this is an interpersonal example of inequality, it stems from something much deeper, structural inequality imbedded within the society. (Duerheimer, 2024)

            Beyond non-orogenes discrimination for orogenes, there are even inequalities amongst orogenes themselves. The hierarchy of orogenes is based on rings. Orogenes can work up to ten-rings. The more rings one has, shows the deeper level of control they have over their power. Due to these levels, one-ring orogenes are often treated beneath ten-ring orogenes. Orogenes often reside in the Fulcrum. The Fulcrum is much like a military boot camp that trains orogenes to control their powers. Orogenes who just enter the Fulcrum are referred to as “grits.” Grits are referred to as “…an unimportant bit of rock ready to be polished into usefulness, or at least to help grind other, better rocks—“ (191). Here, Jemisin uses a metaphor connecting geology to inequality. Grit refers to sand sized grains and small pebbles. The “newbie” orogenes are viewed as something that does not consist of much substance yet, but with training and control can be morphed into something much stronger and useful. In this hierarchy, groups have specific roles that they are to follow. Hierarchies limit freedoms and promote inequalities amongst the orogenes causing problems to arise if anyone chooses to rebel.

            Overall, we see Jemisin create a text where orogenes are racialized by their powers. Orogenes powers are what marginalize them from the rest of the those on The Stillness because fear of them is embedded deep within the society. In the course epigraph, a particular line from Geraldine Heng resonated with me as I read The Fifth Season. It reads, “My understanding, thus, is that race is a structural relationship for the articulation and management of human differences, rather than a substantive content.” Throughout the novel, orogenes were put in a box as something that was to be feared. Non-orogenes used this ideal of orogenes to structure their thoughts and lives. By non-orogenes treating orogenes as less than human, they are able to remain in power. Therefore, while I do believe non-orogenes were taught to fear orogenes for their powers, the ultimate reason they continue to view them as less than is to keep their society and power structures in order. If non-orogenes ideals of orogenes shifted, power dynamics and hierarchies would change, sending people into a time of disorder. This relates back to Hang’s quote because orogenes are discriminated against not because of “substantive content,” but because it is a way manage human differences to create order within a society.

            Jemisin writes this text not to make an interesting novel, but instead to parallel the real world. By using orogenes as a marginalized group, readers can digest the text and view the discrimination occurring in a way that refrains from bias. By embedding themes of power, oppression, and hierarchy into a fictional text about orogenes, readers are able to read through a lens with limited preconceived notions. (Duerheimer, 2024) Similarly to how orogenes are viewed as less than non-orogenes to keep order, in the real-world, society perpetuates racism by giving some more powers than others. While it may not be everyone’s intention, structural racism continues to occur because of a desire to keep order. Giving some power and putting down others creates a sense of order that society feels as though they need. To change that hierarchy or power structure, small changes would not be effective. Instead, the entire system itself would need to be rebuilt.

References

Duerheimer, A. Hughes, L. Laughlin, G. Lepsch, V. Licata, A. (2024) ‘ENGL 111 Mini Collaboration 1’. SUNY Geneseo. Unpublished Paragraph.

Hall, L. M. (2022, May 23). Research Guides: Film Genres: Science fiction. Researchguides.dartmouth.edu. https://researchguides.dartmouth.edu/filmgenres/scifi

Jemisin, N. K. (2016). The fifth season : the broken earth. book one. Orbit.

As we look at the concept of recursion, Eglash guides us in African Fractals through what a seed shape truly is—a loop that goes on carrying the result from the last phase onto the next. Eglash makes us attuned to what seems to be an endless process that produces a shape that may be simple or complex and self-similar or differing. In a sense, a leading seed shape of the course that shows up repeatedly is spoken tradition as a way of liberation. Black poets, singers, and artists use their chosen forms to free themselves in the face of anti-Blackness.

Toni Morrison once stated in an essay from Self-Regard, “Black Matters,” how inclusion within the traditional literary canon would open a world where “all of the interests are vested” (Morrison 170). In an essay, “Literature and Public Life,” thereafter Morrison says literature asks us to experience ourselves fully as “multidimensional persons” (Morrison 104). So we keep the thought in mind and when we read the words of W.E.B Du Bois and Bernice Johnson Reagon, it becomes clear to us how song as a method, in whatever form it takes, has been used to resist suffering. 

If we turn to Souls of Black Folk, Du Bois moves us through his commentary with paratextual music sections that flow easily with what he suggests on spiritual strivings. The speaker thinks of his experience in the shape of a vast veil as he is isolated from the rest, “[t]hen it dawned upon me with a certain suddenness that I was different from the others; or like, mayhap, in heart and life and longing, but shut out from their world by a vast veil” (Du Bois 738). A longing that is later presented as contempt for the White society on the other side, which fades into the realization that he and other Black youth are held down by the society. Du Bois goes on to discuss the two-ness of self concept for Black people, which causes them to constantly fluctuate between how they see themselves as White and Black society does. The inclusion of songs is used to introduce the tone of the experience that Du Bois is about to share. For instance, as we read aloud Symon’s poem/song, we hear the struggle and emotion associated with the time. Though, the repetition of mourning and ache in the outcry implies there isn’t much resolution to what is felt and endured, the idea that one can contend for freedom is a hope itself. 

In the class notes from February 12th, Professor McCoy reminds us that the “sorrow songs” as Du Bois calls them resemble Reagon’s “freedom songs,” of which the song leader says they are often about love and resistant effort, but as much about the internal process as the expression. In The Songs Are Free, Reagon suggests that there is a commitment that comes with the song that Black folks engage in as she represents the practice one does if they “start to run the sound through [their] body,” it goes separate from how they would decide it would, but it was that “[they] get together and sing to do this to the body.” A greater purpose in the sound is how to get to the act of singing. The singing belongs to you as much as it means to me and us. Yet Reagon doesn’t ignore a concern people have with the tradition’s future that figures without the song, Black narratives would not get to the next phase of society. It is then apparent how the song makes way for layers of experience and self-inquiry along with the embrace of a larger group. Reagon frequently refers to singing in the way that it nurtures the African American experience while it furthers reverence and gratitude for the life before us. When she says, “you cannot sing a song and not change your condition,” we are reminded of the significance of these spirituals as they adhere to the cultural “call” to alter what position they find themselves in. Reagon tells us of the world that resonates about “[Black people’s] specialness in the universe” when they have the access to their own voices. Often the most spirited thing to do in the face of violence and cruelty is provoking the structural powers that suppress one’s freedom, for demanding freedom is “the most-the highest risk” to have the chance of it. 

In these texts and others that have informed us of the African American literary tradition, we see references to Call-and-response; such a form that encourages a community by calling upon all people involved. The repetitive interaction emulates what we saw with African fractals, which were brought into effect by the “circular process…referred to as ‘recursion,’ a very powerful concept” (Eglash 17). A dimension of power found in the seed shape of song is its ability to affect the receiving end, partly depending on the singer’s knowledge of it or not; it has value that writers know their readers and listeners closely enough that it may be more than what they are aware of. Here, Gerard Genette’s notion of the paratext comes through as we unknowingly superimpose our own ideas of what song is and means, of what territory should be and conveys. Paratext assumes a process embedded in another —much like when we read, our own thoughts precede and interrupt the words, or lay underneath affecting us. The effect Reagon states in Nobody Knows the Trouble I See, is quite the intentional move of a writer, “[w]ithin African-American culture, there is a very high standard placed on the moment when one not only makes a solid statement of the song or the sermon, but the offering is given in one’s own signature” (Reagon 118). On that same note, in the interview with Reagon, she proposes that the exercise of song for the body is a part of the culture solely because the culture believes it is critical to being a developed person. Whether by personal and structural need, Black artists know how their work can be affective (felt) by employing the power of subtlety in other spoken word. And though the response is mostly expected, it is from this need that the call for it makes itself known to us. 

When we proceed to look for the importance of the seed shape within the literature, we find it right in front of us. It is the Call-and-response we are involved in by interacting with the texts. Seeing how said shape varies not just in its look, but also how it is read and iterated onto the next form challenged what I had thought about songs and more generally art in all of its purposes. Based on what is represented to us as an image of a repeated pattern, we see it as such and become accustomed to how it seems to be. So I’m left knowing that a handful of stories I may have encountered thus far and I tried to reach true understandings of were heavily influenced by who told me them regardless.

I mostly think about the saying that goes something like, if you want a new outcome, change the algorithm as well as Lauryn Hill’s speech from 2000 where she states to “think in doses, think in experiences, and don’t be afraid of experiences that teach you.” With the rest of our course, I want to test what I thought I knew about the literature alone, I want to test the understandings I currently have and had on narratives and movements within a story. I wonder about the ways in which Call-and-response could not just adhere to spoken or literary traditions, but also other traditions and forms within vast cultures we can learn from and almost infinitely.

Works Cited

Hill Patricia Alveda Liggins and Bernard W Bell. Call and Response : The Riverside Anthology of the African American Literary Tradition. Houghton Mifflin 1997.

Morrison, Toni. The Source of Self-Regard the Source of Self-Regard: Selected Essays, Speeches, and Meditations. Vintage Books, 2020.

Reagon, Bernice Johnson. “‘Nobody Knows the Trouble I See’; or, ‘By and By I’m Gonna Lay Down My Heavy Load.’” The Journal of American History, vol. 78, no. 1, 1991, pp. 111–19. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2078089. Accessed 20 Feb. 2024.Reagon, Bernice Johnson. The Songs Are Free. Conducted by Bill Moyers. 6 Feb. 1991. https://billmoyers.com/content/songs-free/.

The concept of a Fractal “seed shape” stems from Ron Eglash in “African Fractals” which refers to a fundamental geometric form or pattern that serves as the basis for the generation of intricate fractal structures. Fractals are geometric shapes and patterns that repeat at different scales, displaying similarity, meaning that each part of the fractal looks similar to the whole when magnified. Fractals can be as simple as a straight line or as complex as a pattern. In the case of seed shape fractals, the pattern replicates branching structures and curves like nature and natural seed formations. These fractals are typically generated using iterative mathematical equations or algorithms. The process is repeatedly applying a transformation of shapes, which, as a result, creates complex, self-replicating patterns. The level of detail and complexity in seed shape fractals can vary depending on the specific algorithms. In literature, seed shapes are present and help create growth and technique. In my opinion, I believe that recursion is a fundamental concept that we discussed in class. In Ron Eglash’s words, “a sort of feedback loop, with the end result of one stage brought back as the starting point for the next.”(Eglash, African Fractals). Within a seed shape, recursion occurs because one shape is the start of the next, and so on.

Recursion in African American literature, particularly in the context of “seed shape,” can be interpreted through various lenses. In class, we experience recursion every time we start a conversation on the topic of our previous class and use those ideas to lead into the current class topic of the day. We experience this every class, but it is never acknowledged as recursion. Life as well constantly consists of recursion, and it never stops. As said before, recursion can be seen as a pattern of repetition or self-reference. Similarly, systems of racial oppression and injustice can exhibit recursive patterns, perpetuating themselves through cycles of discrimination, bias, and unequal power dynamics. Patterns of oppression often have deep historical roots that perpetuate over time. For example, systems of slavery and colonialism have had long-lasting effects on societies, creating recursive patterns of disadvantage for certain racial groups that persist across generations. Within the idea of racial injustice and oppression for recursion, there is a psychological part of it. Individuals who experience racism and oppression may internalize these experiences, leading to recursive patterns of self-doubt, low self-esteem, and limited opportunities. This psychological recursion can further establish injustice. 

Patterns of oppression often have deep historical roots that perpetuate over time. For example, systems of slavery and colonialism have had long-lasting effects on societies, creating recursive patterns of disadvantage for certain racial groups that persist across generations. In our readings, we discussed these issues. In “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl” by Harriet A. Jacobs, recursion is constantly considered. Jacobs explores the recurring themes of oppression and the desire for freedom throughout the narrative. These recurring themes throughout the autobiography start the struggles that Harriet Jacob faced. These themes are echoed in various episodes of her life, such as her attempts to resist sexual advances, her struggles as a mother to protect her children, and her eventual flight to the North to secure her freedom. Repeatedly, Jacobs emphasizes how enslaved individuals resisted their oppression, whether through acts of defiance, escape attempts, or efforts to maintain their dignity and autonomy in the face of dehumanizing conditions. Jacobs often parallels her experiences and those of other enslaved individuals. For example, she compares her relationship with her master to that of other enslaved women, highlighting the recurring patterns of exploitation and abuse. The institution of slavery perpetuates itself through generations, with enslaved individuals often experiencing similar hardships and injustices as their predecessors. This pattern reinforces the systemic nature of slavery and the challenges faced by those looking to break free from its bonds. By implementing recursion, a narrative structure that reinforces the central themes and experiences depicted in “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl,” provides readers with a deeper understanding of the impact of slavery on individuals and communities. 

Not only does racial injustice occur in “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl”  but also in “Narrative of the Life of Fredrick Douglass”. In class, we used recursion when discussing these autobiographies; it started with Fredrick Douglass and used his ideas and concepts to move into Harriet Jacobs. This representativeness was a matter of pain and harm because the experiences of enslaved people were not the same. This repetition and expansion reinforce the narrative’s central messages and provide a more comprehensive understanding of Douglass’s life and the institution of slavery. Douglass’s reflections on his growth and development could be seen as a form of personal recursion. As he recounts his journey from slavery to freedom, he frequently reflects on his past experiences and the lessons he has learned along the way. This process of self-reflection and self-examination can be likened to a recursive loop, as Douglass continually revisits and builds upon his thoughts and experiences.

Seed shapes serve as the foundation upon which fractals are built, representing the initial element from which recursive iterations unfold. Recursion in African American literature, particularly in the context of “seed shape,” can be interpreted through various lenses.  As said before, recursion can be seen as a pattern of repetition or self-reference. Similarly, systems of racial oppression and injustice can exhibit recursive patterns, perpetuating themselves through cycles of discrimination, bias, and unequal power dynamics. There are many new things to consider for the rest of the semester. In class, we experience recursion every time we start a conversation on the topic of our previous class and use those ideas to lead into the current class topic of the day. We experience this every class, but it is never acknowledged as recursion. The idea of recursion will be fresh in my mind for the remainder of the semester. I will always try to connect everything together with what we have learned. 

When I was in elementary school, my sixth grade teacher introduced me to my first ever seed shape in the form of a plot diagram. It’s a simple looking shape: two horizontal lines with a triangle in between them, representing the five stages of a plot. Starting on the left straight line is your exposition. How will your story begin? Where will it take place? Who are your characters? Then, as you start to climb up the triangle, you find yourself embarking on your rising action. Things are getting exciting. You’re building up to something big. Then, before you know it, you find yourself on the very tip of the triangle. The peak. Your climax. This is when things are at their most intense. From here, the only way you can go is down, so you find yourself in your falling action. This is when your story starts to wrap up any loose ends, before leveling back out on a horizontal line, and arriving at your resolution, or end. This seed shape was always very helpful for me. I used it to write my own stories, and to place other author’s stories into points on the diagram. I felt comforted by the seed shape. I knew what to expect, and roughly when to expect it. But what happens when authors tell a true story? Can a person’s real life mold into a predictable shape? When dissecting two slave narratives, “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: An American Slave” written by Fredrick Douglass and “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl” by Harriet Jacobs, I tried to do just that. 

Frederick Douglass’s narrative begins in the way most slave narratives do; “I was born…”. This beginning, or exposition, sets the scene on a young Fredrick Douglass, living in Maryland. Douglass was born enslaved. At this point, I would like to introduce another seed shape. Imagine a dome is drawn over the triangle seed shape. On the left side, at the first point of our dome we have “order”. Then arching over our triangle to the right side is our final point: “order restored”. In the middle is “disorder”. Young Fredrick being enslaved is considered “order” during this time period in the south. Now, as Douglass moves away from his exposition of childhood, and up the triangle in his rising action, we are approaching “disorder”. Douglass’s rising action is when he moves to Baltimore and embarks on a journey to learn to read and write. This was discouraged, since white people were scared that once enslaved people learned how to read and write, they would become “unmanageable”, “unhappy” and begin to fight against slavery. Mr. Auld, Douglass’s enslaver at the time, said in response to Douglass learning to read, “It would forever unfit him to be a slave. He would at once become unmanageable, and of no value to his master. As to himself, it could do him no good, but a great deal of harm. It would make him discontented and unhappy.” (Douglass 287). This takes us to our climax of the narrative. Learning to read and write empowered Douglass, just as Mr. Auld feared. He wanted to fight, and he did. He fought his next enslaver, Mr. Covey. “I resolved to fight; and, suiting my action to that resolution, I seized Covey hard by the throat; and as I did so, I rose.” (Douglass 302). The decision to fight Mr. Covey is an intense part in Douglass’s narrative, and fits into the “disorder” portion of the diagram because of Douglass’s act of rebellion. Douglass wrote, “This battle with Mr. Covey was the turning point in my career as a slave.” (Douglass 302). We have now reached the turning point on our triangle, which takes us to the falling action. The falling action in this narrative is when Fredrick Douglass puts a plan to run away into action. Douglass’s plan to escape first fails, landing him in jail, thus resulting in more “disorder”. It is not until his second attempt, that he successfully makes it North to New Bedford, which is our resolution and “order restored”. Douglass’s arrival to the North is considered to be “order restored” because the entire narrative leads up to this moment of freedom.

Harriet Jacobs’ slave narrative can also be plotted on the triangle seed shape. We start the same as Douglass with, “I was born…”, where Jacobs shares that she was born enslaved, and hadn’t realized for her first six years of life, due to her childhood being a relatively happy one. This narrative (like Douglass’s) starts on the side of “order”, and begins with the exposition of a young Harriet (who calls herself “Linda” in the narrative), born into slavery. Our rising action, and beginning of “disorder”, is when Jacobs’ “kind mistress sickened and died.” (Jacobs 436). After Harriet’s “kind mistress” died, she became enslaved to Dr. Flint’s daughter. Dr. Flint was not a good man, and he took advantage of Harriet sexually. This takes us to our climax. In a chapter titled “The Jealous Mistress”, we see how Dr. Flint’s wife’s jealousy affects Harriet. “She felt that her marriage vows were desecrated, her dignity insulted; but she had no compassion for the poor victim of her husband’s perfidy. She pitied herself as a martyr; but she was incapable of feeling for the condition of shame and misery in which her unfortunate, helpless slave was placed.” (Jacobs 442). The watchful, jealous eye of Mrs. Flint, along with the sexual abuse of Dr. Flint eventually led to Harriet having children with a white man named Mr. Sands, due to a desperate desire to be free of the Flints. Shortly after having the babies, Harriet decides to run away. Our falling action is when Harriet runs away and stays hidden in the crawlspace of her grandmother’s house for seven years. Eventually, when the opportunity and help arose, Harriet takes a boat North, thus escaping enslavement and finding freedom, giving readers a resolution and “order restored”. 

This exercise of putting true narratives about real people into plots on a seed shape diagram got me thinking. Can real lives truly be placed so neatly onto this triangle seed shape? The answer is both yes and no. Yes, I can plot an “exposition” to my own life, but there are so many beginnings to choose from. I could start with my own birth, or perhaps my first day of high school or college. Where you start your story changes the trajectory of your points on the shape. Depending on where I start and end my story, my rising action, climax, and falling action are all different. If I start my story at birth and end at my own death, there is guaranteed to be more than one rising action, more than one climax, more than one falling action, some even going on at the same time. It becomes a repetitive, fractal-like pattern that continues to go up and down through the ebbs and flows of real life. Ron Eglash defines fractals as being “characterized by the repetition of similar patterns at ever-diminishing scales.” (Eglash 4). Imagine off of every straight line, another triangle appears carrying the same points: rising action, climax, falling action; repeating infinitely. Life, like fractals, are repetitive. One’s life could not completely be summed up if using just one triangle seed shape. We have multiple seed shapes going on in multiple directions, infinitely, since our lives are long, complex, and can not be summed up perfectly on one plot with only 5 plot points. We need fractals; we need infinity. By saying all of this, I mean to point out that the authors of these narratives picked where to start and end their story, which was their birth to their freedom. Had the narratives continued past freedom, the triangle seed shape would go on, with new rising actions, new climaxes, new falling actions, and a new resolution. Life was not perfect, and order was not fully restored when Fredrick Douglass and Harriet Jacobs made it to the North. There were still struggles, there were still obstacles to be overcome. Their lives, stories, and legacies do not stop when their narratives reach their resolution; their hardships are not limited to the ones they chose to share; they go on much further and much longer, with lots more “disorder” in the middle. 

Simply put a fractal is an infinite, recursive shape often occurring in nature. But if one were to look deeper, they would discover that there is much more to fractals than meets the eye. There are five essential components that make a shape a fractal. Likely the the most important self-similarity. Self-similarity is the central seed shape that the rest of the figure is branched off of. (Eglash) The seed shape as described in its name is the start of every fractal and branch of the fractal. It is the commonality that connects every aspect of the very complex and diverse shape. English 337: African American Literature is an in-depth course that examines a multitude of texts written by several Black authors. The course just so happens to follow the rules of fractal geometry. 

Although we have explored many texts and various forms of art, gone down many different paths, and branched off into many different directions, there is a central seed shape that connects the texts throughout the course and provides a connection between them. Interestingly enough, I think that seed shape is the diversity and complexity of literature written by Black authors. Every text that we have read, every folk song we have listened to, and every poem that we have investigated displays a different life and experience with Blackness in America. There is a diversity of styles, genres, and opinions within the literature as well. That variety is in itself the connection between all Black literature and is the seed shape that connects the concepts of the English 337 course. 

Frederick Douglass is perhaps one of the most famous authors of all time, not to mention one of the most famous Black authors. His autobiography The Narrative Life of Fredrick Douglass: An American Slave was an instant success as soon as it was published and has remained one of the most popular books in America. In the book, he tells the story of his enslavement as a child and a young man. One of the most key scenes in the narrative is when Douglass fights his enslaver, Mr. Covey. Douglass himself says that the “battle with Mr. Covey was the turning point in my career as a slave.” (Douglass 302) It is this conflict that makes him realize that his freedom is something he wants to fight for. Not only is his battle with his enslaver about his freedom as a human being but it can be interpreted as a fight for his manhood. Douglass says “It… revived in me a sense of my own manhood. It recalled the departed self-confidence…” (Douglass 302) By fighting and winning against the most classically masculine figure in his life, he not only claims his freedom but reclaims his own masculinity. 

The Narrative in general could be categorized as a more traditionally masculine presenting story. It is a plot-driven narrative that focuses more on the physical actions and steps Douglass overcame to fight his way to freedom. There is not much focus on deep inner monologue or overcoming thoughts of self-doubt. Also, Douglass did not have to worry about any children or other members of his family while escaping, and there isn’t much discussion from him about them. All of this is in contrast to another story of escaping enslavement we read in the course. 

Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl written by Harriet Jacobs is at first glance a similar story to that lived and written by Frederick Douglass. It is a story of a young Black person risking and dedicating their life to escaping enslavement. On closer inspection, however, one starts to notice massive differences between the two. So much of Jacob’s writing focuses on the intersectionality of “the disadvantages of being an attractive black female and a slave.” (Call and Response 433) Jacob’s story of escaping slavery is long and drawn out because she could not easily run away. Her enslaver was regularly sexually abusing her and would come to her house often asking for sexual favors. Also, Jacobs had two young children to think about. She couldn’t simply pack her things and run away on her own. The solution that she finally arrived at was to hide in the crawl space of her grandmother’s house for seven years until her enslaver finally stopped looking for her and her children were old enough to travel. It was this incredible feat of dedication and sacrifice that led readers and historians alike to dismiss “her narrative as fictionalized when she recounted the incident.” (Call and Response 433) So much of the way Incidents was written and received by the public was because Jacobs was a woman.

 A vast part of what makes Incidents so intriguing is the amount of stream of consciousness that is displayed. We get to hear, understand, and become well acquainted with Linda/Harriet’s inner thoughts. It is a deep character study and introspective look at the life of an enslaved black woman rather than an action-focused narrative. It was also the fact that Jacobs was a woman that made her story unbelievable to the public. When Incidents was published, it was not an instant success and it took until the 1980s to be authenticated and treated as such by the public. This is a common phenomenon in literature written by women and it contrasts with literature of the same type written by men.

The differences in both the content of the writing as well as the reception of the two slave narratives are glaringly obvious despite their similarities. It is this that provides us with insight into the vast diversity of Black literature. Both The Narrative by Fredrick Douglass and Incidents by Harriet Jacobs are classic slave narratives that tell the stories of young enslaved Black people who do everything in their power to escape enslavement. But even so, there is so much that is different about the two narratives and the writers that created them. Douglass was an action-based man and his writing followed suit. His story is suspenseful and exciting to read. He describes in great detail the gore he witnessed while being a slave. The Narrative is fast-paced and comes to a satisfying close where Douglass has gained his freedom in the North. Incidents functions completely differently. Jacobs is deeply retrospective and spends a lot of time in her story with her inner thoughts and feelings while experiencing enslavement. She heavily discusses the emotional pain of being sexually abused and experiencing the loss of multiple friends and family members. While both slave narratives pull at the heartstrings of their readers and function as abolitionist works, they do so in very different ways. 

One can see through the vast differences in The Narrative and Incidents that Black literature is full of diversity and variety. It is so important to not only recognize this diversity but to respect it. Unfortunately, among White people, there is the assumption that everything made by Black artists has the same meaning and message. Not only is this assumption false, but it is hurtful and damaging. The Black experience is very diverse and therefore the literature written by Black people is just as diverse. To ignore or diminish this diversity is to delete and disregard the Black experience itself.  This is the seed shape of English 337… identify and validate diversity in Black literature and in doing so to respect and identify as many Black experiences in America as possible.

So far throughout this course we have talked about and read a lot of stories that contain some idea of ownership. This I would argue is one of the most important seed shapes so far. A seed shape, as explained by Ron Eglash, is the starting shape or point that grows into a much larger pattern or story, this has been exemplified with ownership in the stories we have read, most namely in “Bloodchild” and “Everyday Use”. In both of these texts there is a sense of ownership and entitlement that gets builded on to cause the central conflict or purpose of the story, this can be translated into the greater theme of our class where ownership, of either yourself or your culture, is debated and fought with in the stories we read and the discussions we have. Many main points and themes we have outlined in this class can be traced back to some sort of ownership and the conflicts brought upon as a result. 

In the story “Bloodchild” by Octavia Butler ownership is the base for the story because of the ownership the Tlic have over the Terrans, although this is said to be an interdependent relationship, there is still a factor of ownership because it is the Tlic’s planet and they ultimately are in charge over the Terrans. This ownership provides a sprouting point for the story because it creates tension when Gan witnesses a birth and realizes the position they are stuck in because of this ownership. We can see some evidence of the loss of self ownership when Gan says “Thus, we were necessities, status symbols, and an independent people” (Butler 5) Gan acknowledges that Terrans have no control over what happens to them and who can say they “own” them. So although the relationship between Tlic and Terrans does have some give and take it is ultimately up to the Tlic to decide what happens to and what the Terrans can do with their lives. We can see the seed of ownership become visible when Gan says “She would have to give one of us to someone, and she preferred T’Gatoi to some stranger” (Butler 8) this creates the jumping point for the rest of the story, the fact that Gan will be given to T’Gatoi to impregnate because the ownership of Terrans is expected in this world. The rest of the story expands on this by creating conflict within Gan and whether they want to go along with this expectation or leave it. We see this doubt grow when Gan says “”I don’t want to be a host animal,” I said. “Not even yours” (Butler 24) This idea of yearning for freedom from the ownership you have been destined to is the main point of this story. Without the initial seed shape of ownership this story would not have had the basis to create a conflict around freedom and making choices for oneself. Many conversations we had about this story in class centered around the idea of this ownership the Tlic have and the effects that had for the Terrans, and more specifically Gan. 

In the story “Everyday Use” by Alice Walker the seed of ownership takes on many different forms. The first form it takes is one of names, another in the quilts, more generally both of these fall under culture as the debate of ownership, in the story Mama’s daughter originally named Dee comes back home after being away and says she goes by Wangero now because “I couldn’t bear it any longer, being named after the people who oppress me” (Walker 1799) This continues throughout the story where Wangero seems to have come back home completely changed from before. Where she all of a sudden has an interest in her culture and has a certain mindset on how that culture should be owned. This is specifically showcased at the end where Wangero demands she should be the one who gets her Grandma’s quilts because she would honor them the right way unlike her sister. This expands on the concept of ownership, specifically of one’s culture, and the conflicting views on what the “right” way of preserving one’s heritage is. On one hand Wangero insists that the quilts must be hung up and never used, but Mama says that they are meant to be used and Wangero’s sister will do just that. This jumps off of the original idea of ownership because it presents a conflict where the ownership of one’s own culture is debated within a family, more specifically within older and newer generations and viewpoints. Mama, who represents an older generational point of view, believes that the name Dee is fine because it was owned by her mother, and Mama believes that the quilts made by her mother should be owned by a person who is going to use them for their intended purpose, for everyday use. On the other hand Wangero who represents a newer generational way of thinking believes that her old name Dee is a sign of her oppressors and does not belong to her, and that the hand me down quilts should go to someone who is going to preserve them and not wear them down in everyday use to the point where they can no longer be owned by anyone. The newer age of thinking puts emphasis on lasting ownership while the older age is less focused on ownership over experience of culture. 

These stories and their seed shapes of ownership contribute to our class as a whole because the majority of our discussions revolve around these conflicts of ownership and its implications. In “Bloodchild” the ownership of oneself relates to a lot of discussions we have had about slavery and control over your own life and your rights as a human. And in “Everyday Use” the ownership of one’s culture is the basis for many conversations we have had about how culture shifts throughout time and new generations develop new ideas or views on how that culture should be represented. Overall, ownership has been the basis of most discussions we have had in our class so far, which leads me to believe that it is the most important class seed shape as of yet. Where the rest of the semester is concerned, I think that the recurrence of ownership is going to continue and pop up in more readings along the way. I expect that we are going to see more conflict with this idea and turmoil over both the yearning to be free of ownership and the clarification of what type of ownership is the “right” type of ownership. I wonder if this seed shape will take form in more of the short story types like I have outlined, or more biographical instances going forward.