Violence Can Exist as Care: The Harshness of Turbulent Emotions

I would like to illustrate some gruesome, ghastly consequences of August 2005’s Hurricane Katrina and its subsequent relief response inflicted on the proud, passionate denizens of New Orleans. The waterlogged bodies of cherished loved ones meander and dwell in swamped, putrid city streets rife with rot. Said streets have been unrecognizably mangled and uprooted into jagged, desolate landscapes, filled with the anguished cries of those with fervent enough will to return. Countless exhausted, defeated citizens confined to dwelling in their ever-accumulating filth in a shelter whose resilience and competence as such crumbled too many weeks ago. They are assured by a visiting former first lady Barbara Bush that due to their “underprivileged” state, “this is working really well for them”, conscripted to play the role of pitiable supernumeraries appreciative of any morsel of aid the government graciously extends their way. Spike Lee deliberately highlights these abhorrent glimpses into carnage in his documentary When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts. I believe some of his intentions were to convey how negligence towards the strife of others and an apathy towards care can precipitate rampant violence among the recipients of said apathy. Violence never fails to manifest and fester in society in an abundance of ways. I feel as though this can be attributed to the intrinsic amorphousness of which the concept of violence can cultivate and proliferate as. Violence can be as macrocosmic as pertaining to an entire society being thrusted into turmoil over a geological catastrophe or a series of fervent civil protests. It can relish on a more microcosmic scale as well, injecting heaps of torment into an individual’s emotional health. Spike Lee offers fruitful insight and perspective through his documentary into how a lack of care facilitates violence to flourish. However, Lee does not abstain from demonstrating an inverse, how a wellspring of care and passion can prove an impetus for emotional violence as well. A woman and her son return to their home following the aftermath of Katrina to assess the structural state of their home, only to be stricken with intense despair and lament while looking upon its ravaged, defiled state. Out of care for oneself and family, violence becomes rife throughout stores and streets to protect the vestiges of their home and community they invested so much labor and passion into. A turbulent marring of emotions swells within those who are compelled to confront the loss of cherished loved ones. While I am not insisting that these emotions and passions are bad or unwarranted, I am proposing that it is entirely possible for violence to exist as care. Saidiya Hartman’s assertion that “Care is the antidote to violence” fails to recognize these prospects, only accounting for how an utter lack of care can exacerbate the influence of violence. I believe this course provides ample evidence to propose that violence can exist through the intrinsic intensity of which an individual’s passions erupt into when said passions are threatened or tarnished in some manner. 

Violence can exist due to the ardent extent of someone’s care. This notion is affirmed in Joseph Roach’s “Echoe in the Bone”, an intensive discussion and reflection of Circum Atlantic performance. In his writings Roach proclaims that “Violence in human culture always serves, one way or another, to make a point”. If Roach is affirming that violence is seldom acted without intent or conviction, then I believe it is reasonable to suggest that a substantial catalyst of care is an intrinsic necessity for violence to thrive or act. Roach additionally posits that “all violence is excessive, because to be fully demonstrative, to make its point, it must spend things–material objects, blood, environments”. Here, Roach further fortifies the assertion that the presence of care invested into an obstacle can often precipitate violent situations. I believe that humanity’s need to “make a point” through their passions or beliefs can inflict collateral consequences onto unwilling victims if this passion breaches into gratuity. Roach himself states that to fully demonstrate one’s caliber of care, they may resort into expressing their sentiments in tumultuous, violent ways that come at a deficit of “material objects” and “environments” around them. If Roach affirms that “violence is excessive”, then I believe it is plausible to propose the degree of care that fuels said violence must be corresponding to that same measure of excessiveness. “Echoes in the Bone” also explores the roles effigies play in violence. Roach explains in his writings that Effigies are surrogate constructs whose sole existence serves to be the target of someone’s anger or fierce emotion. It is a common practice to burn and scorch these effigies, acts that are both inextricably associated with violent or forceful sentiments. I affirm that this demonstrates another way for violence to exist due to an abundance of care and passion. Anger itself exists solely due to an overflowing torrent of emotion within one’s psyche, an excess of care for a given topic or situation. The existence of effigies demonstrates it is a desired practice to purge this tremendous tumult of emotion through violent activities. I believe through his rumination on the intricate components of violence Roach can fortify the notion that violent situations flourish when individuals desire an outlet to relief or express an overflow of fervency and investment towards another entity, whether it be a person, place, or belief.

            The various readings throughout our course effectively demonstrate mankind’s penchant to cultivate violence from their flourishing surplus of care and fierce sentiments. This is additionally evident throughout William Shakespeare’s The Tempest, wherein Prospero, a former Duke of Milan, conjures up a ruthless, colossal torrent of a storm to sink his brother Antonio’s shift out of fervent revenge for deposing him during a coup. Prospero is willing to contort and submit reality itself to his will to acquire a sufficient medium to exert his violent, adamant emotions regarding this treachery. His violent deed fuels further unrest on the vessel his contempt has fixed upon, with the crew frivolously hurling the blame onto others for their misfortune and recklessly insisting someone “lie drowning the washing of ten tides” as punishment. I believe this demonstrates the infectiousness of which one violent deed fueled by impassioned wrath can inflict similar heedless, destructive emotions onto others. Prospero’s actions here jeopardize both the physical state of those he possesses scorn for and pollute their emotions as well. The crew begins lashing out in a violent manner to manage their influx of sentiments towards a turbulent situation. Prospero’s fervent, furious response at an opportunity to express his scorn for this treachery is further fueled by his love for his daughter, Miranda. I believe it is evident that Prospero vehemently desires to support his daughter and provide her with the lavish life of leisure that she has been robbed of. He mentions that she has been the pillar of which his resolve has been fortified upon throughout their remote plight, declaring to her “(T)hou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven.” Prospero’s adamant care he expresses for his daughter and pride in his deprived prestige is what compels him to unleash violence at the expense of others’ safety. If Prospero’s anger and resolve were not as fervent, I affirm he would not have needed to express his scorn in such a colossal, calamitous fashion. His fierce compulsion to demonstrate his impassioned sentiments in such a violent manner he is willing to warp both his environment and surrounding fellow man in a manner of magnitude that transcends the confines of a normal man. This demonstrates the drastic, destructive measures one will take to appropriately convey the scale of their care and sentimental investments.

            An excess of care can manifest itself in violent, emotionally turbulent ways. This is a notion explored in Patricia Smith’s Blood Dazzler, a compendium of poems conveying the tumultuous agony, betrayal, and wounds imposed upon the people of New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina. One poem, “Voodoo V: Enemy Be Gone”, encapsulates the harmful ramifications fervent investment into one’s community can inflict upon their psyche. The speaker in this poem laments about the various ways Katrina damaged New Orleans, reflecting in a wistful, yet bitter manner about how Hurricane Katrina “took with her a kingdom of sax and dream books”. I believe this line makes it explicit that the speaker possesses considerable passion and investment in their environment, their community, that was so mercilessly marred by Katrina’s force. Exclaiming that this storm “took” with it a kingdom suggests the speaker feels scorn over being robbed of the bountiful, vivacious culture they have come to cherish so greatly. The notion of Katrina robbing it from them adds a deeply personal component to the loss, as if it were a deliberate act of malice by Katrina. The speaker additionally mentions how “the storm left a wound seeping” because of its catastrophic deeds. This confirms that the speaker’s emotional well-being has indeed been lacerated and devastated because of Katrina. I believe the tremendous care and passion they exhibit for their city’s rich artistic culture instigates their sorrowful frustrations of loss, a violent and tumultuous emotional state that leaves the speaker discontent. The brimming passion they exude for their city is consequently susceptible to curdling into emotional wounds if the object of their passion becomes threatened or marred. This leads to the speaker harboring harsh resentment towards the storm, personifying its damage as thievery to make the wounds and vitriol feel like a more personal slight.

            I confidently affirm my belief that many of our readings throughout this course offered evidence into the various ways violence can often exist in or become exacerbated through care. The intense emotions and convictions teeming within individuals have the capacity to be expressed in ways that may be harmful or detrimental to themselves or others. Roach affirms that no violence is executed without conviction, thus positing care is a core component of violent expression. Prospero disregards the safety of dozens for the sake of expressing his passionate pride and care for his daughter with spectacle. A speaker from Blood Dazzler is stuck dwelling with resentment over forces that challenged the culture and community he cares immensely for, far from a mindset free of discontent. I understand that this essay may have come across as cynical, that I believe caring is a deficit to human behavior. This could not be farther from the truth, however. I ultimately hope this serves as a dirge, reflecting on the bad, to contrast to a flourishing second line, the reward, as everyone looks around at all the people who exercise care so wonderfully in their daily lives. A lack of care, after all, would lead to widespread apathy throughout society. If no one possesses care then that negligent aid afforded for Katrina survivors, as seen in Spike Lee’s When the Levees Broke, would be the status quo. No one in our society could be bothered to lend a hand to a struggling neighbor or tirelessly work to improve conditions for those in need because of natural disasters. Care is indeed crucial in combating the spread of violence through negligence, but it is not the antidote. I believe it is important to have passion and care towards many attributes of life. However, it is equally important to reflect and tend to this care so that one can elevate others through its expression as opposed to risking others through a more outwardly destructive expression of these feelings.

Negligent Expectations Rampant Throughout A Barbarous Storms Influences

Hurricane Katrina was undeniably a devastating torrent the bombarded ubiquitous, inextricable marring and ravaging of the vivacious, prideful communities intimate yet abundant throughout the city of New Orleans. Houses teeming with family history and robust cultural community were thrashed and decimated as if they were conscripted to be nothing more than fleeting effigies of one’s legacy and relation to such a gregarious, socially enriched yet tumultuous city. One could argue that choosing to live in a city whose waterlogged environment is so volatile and prone to betrayal during these ecological havocs is to embrace such a conscription, however for many in New Orleans it is evident the choice has not always been so simple. I found myself enthralled in the heartbreak and immense devastation as we watched Spike Lee’s exquisitely insightful When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts. The documentary devoted a remarkable portion of time to reaffirming the unflinching, beautiful solidarity evident in the people of New Orleans in spite of agonizingly arduous conditions, which I believe to be an encouraging implementation of an affirming Second Line. However, the need for this Second Line was only present due to the sheer, indiscriminate violence and callous negligence imposed onto the city of New Orleans not just by the belligerent, haphazardly voracious storm, but also by the government and their relegation of New Orleans community as nothing more than supernumeraries, both indicative of a dirge. Lee made it evident that the people were left floundering both during and well after Katrina’s wake, afforded almost no commodities and relief for their strife, expected merely to press on and salvage a new life for themselves, with ostensible equal prospects. Communities were ravaged by a wasteful storm that left a gratuitous level of carnage and erasure in its flippantly harmful wake. A man was forced to relinquish his sick mother to the torrential, all-encompassing influence imposed on New Orleans. A mother is inundated with despair over the loss of her child, feeling utterly powerlessness and a lack of agency that may have helped save her child from compulsion as a sacrifice to this monstrous storm. Yet a disconnected mother of President Bush can observe this carnage and pervasive throttling of New Orleans’ life and legacy and insist that this is ultimately a blessing in disguise for New Orleans, as if being forced to dwell in their own excrement, toppling over wreckage and other bodies is a net improvement to some more impoverished denizens. It was made evident to me that the rest of society had largely remained largely oblivious to the plight and sacrifice these people had been forced to forfeit. This gratuitous geological and negligent violence imposed on New Orleans reminded me about themes reinforced in Joseph Roach’s “Echoes in the Bone”, an intimate look into the turbulent yet beautiful intricacies of the circum-Atlantic diaspora. Joseph Roach delves considerably into a notion that “violence is the performance of waste” (Roach 41). Through this essay, I intend to further explain how violence as a performance of waste serves to accentuate the notion that disasters often instigate egregious, compelled sacrifice and wounded memories, leading to a larger society to conscript those exploited during the disaster and tragedy to perform as supernumeraries left to mend on their own, without aid.

            One of the three primary corollaries Roach posits in his discussion over violence as a performance of waste is that “all violence is excessive, because to be fully demonstrative, to make its point, it must spend things– material objects, blood, environments– in acts of Bataillian ‘unproductive expenditure” (41). Here, Roach is alluding to the notion that violence demands and forcefully elicits sacrifice in order to fulfill its own performance of sorts, even if said performance is only to wreak extravagant catastrophe on an environment. He suggests that carnage often imposes a far more abundant negative output as opposed to its input, hence why said bombastic, rampant torrents of natural disasters are often cited as “unproductive expenditure.” I find this quote to be so fascinating since it can be contextualized as a confrontation of, or at the very least a prompt for discussion on, the notion that natural disaster can be a time for cleansing. While this outcome after a disaster is entirely plausible, even admirable it invests excessive eager sentiment and investment into a cathartic Second-Line while ignoring the ramifications and colossal wounds found present in the sharp vestiges whirling around the Dirge. This idea is reaffirmed in a poem from Patricia Smith’s Blood Dazzler, dubbed “Back Home”, that features a narrator gazing upon the pervasively pungent and atrocious state of what her life and environment was thrived off of in New Orleans. The speaker is thrusted into an overwhelmed despair upon witnessing the state of her home following the aftermath of a barbarous Katrina, mentioning that the vermin and water-ravaged home also harbors “funk, churning moss dripping from its arms, arms open wide to take in my damp body” (Smith 65). Here, Smith employs grotesque and derelict imagery to convey the irreparable contortion of the woman’s home and the material resources she worked to accrue and sustain through her life in New Orleans. I believe specifically that the implementation of “churning moss” clinging to and ravaging and slathering the house still with “arms wide” in an attempt to be richly expressive in just how emotional the sacrifice of one’s material environment can be for someone. The use of personification in describing the house despite its colossally warped and enfeebled state only further highlights the anguish the speaker is likely feeling upon witnessing all material components of her identity and legacy in shambles. The house is treated like an affectionate friend eager to comfort and protect the speaker in spite of being burdened with decay, as seen in its offer to wrap the narrator in its derelict body. The end of the poem finds the speaker further lamenting the unsalvageable state of her past life, now a devastated amalgam of grotesque wither and a nest for a contorted, new tarnished ecosystem of its own: “closing tied eyes against my home’s languid rhythms of rot, begging my new history to hold still” (65). This elegiac imagery conveyed by Smith reaffirms the emotional toll and marring the decomposed, derelict house has inflicted onto the speaker. The “languid rhythms of rot” further accentuates the notion that the house is a breathing, active entity within New Orleans legacy and ecology, similar to the speaker herself, making it all the more heart wrenching that it is in a state of inextricable disrepair. I believe the speaker “begging” her new history to remain stagnant shows how she is utterly unequipped and emotionally ravaged herself to be able to carry on with her life unfettered. Her home in New Orleans meant a tremendous deal to her, and she is far from ready to part with it for the sake of his torrential hurricane’s performance. Such a brutally callous discarding of one’s material and ecological identity in New Orleans shows how tremendously oppressive it can be for one to rebuild and commence a ‘cleansing’ process when forced to perform as a sacrifice for the spectacle and scope of these natural disasters. Instead of being empowered from Katrina’s carnage by a sense of renewal, I believe the speaker, as well as other individuals grappling with a similar deprivation and destruction of material and environmental familiarities. Such a flagrantly savage squandering of goods for a frivolous geological performance seamlessly encapsulates Roach’s concept that violence is intrinsically “excessive” and demands unprompted, unconsented sacrifice to embolden its own magnitude, diametrically “unproductive” in nature. The prospect of disasters yielding opportunity for new beginnings is rendered worthless if those unwillingly exposed to said disaster were so fervently entrenched in the value of what the material and ecological goods surrounding them. The speaker has clearly been affixed to a conscripted performance of her own because of this egregious violence and carnage, a societal supernumerary left to toil in the demolished remnants of her past life and expected reassemble them on her own to form a new one. 

            Another of Roach’s corollaries asserts that “all violence is performative, for the simple reason that it must have an audience– even if that audience is the only victim” (41). Roach is suggesting to readers that the waste of violence isn’t dictated necessarily by the scale of the catastrophe it inflicts, but by the capacity of waste, harm, and gratuity it imposes on those exposed to the performance. I personally find the amorphous nature of this assertion to be rather intriguing due to the vast plasticity behind one can be deemed an audience. The flexibility of who the audience is crucial since the audience will normally be the one to determine whether an act of violence is truly wasteful and worth acting on due to its scale, severity, and significance, making the negligent aid extended to New Orleans following Katrina more glaring. Providing an audience opportunity to disconnect from oneself can ultimately precipitate and exacerbate further waste and excessive destruction left by said performance of violence. This creates a notion of a vortex of violence and needless discord on a societal front, as hostile sentiments can fuel animosity and aggression among those who deem themselves an active victim of the violence audience when confronting the inaction of a disconnected audience. The notion of flexible accountability in an audience not immediately affected by said violence is evident throughout the Bush administration’s dispassionately indolent conscription of the people of New Orleans into those of a separated supernumerary from the rest of the country’s priorities. Patricia Smith does a fantastic job articulating this sentiment in her poem “The President Flies Over”, relaying Bush’s potentially unsympathetic and callous emotions as he flew over the carnage exacted by Katrina onto New Orleans, referring to the city as “that other country” and remarking how had heard “somewhere it has rained” (Smith 36). Smith chooses to convey the president’s abhorrently negligent disassociation and untethering of himself to the plight of New Orleans. I believe his reference to the city as “that other country” to be a prime example of conscripting New Orleans to a role of a disconnected supernumerary, a land that is excess and no longer apart of the United States due to the hefty commodities that would have to be extended to truly, vehemently rejuvenate the vigor of the extravagant, bountifully diverse city. Chalking the hurricane up as nothing more than trivial rain also is an instance of Smith conveying how a disconnected audience of violence can contort and conscript the narrative of the magnitude of said violence to ignore the ecological waste and emotional havoc brimming just outside their apathetic peripherals. As Roach suggests, violence as a performance of waste can be equally potent and devastating to those involved even if the supposed affected audience is one individual. Are they not worth extending aid to? Are they merely designated as a supernumerary entity, unworthy of exerting resources over to help mend the fierce wounds imposed on by said violence? Roach’s declaration of violence as a performance of waste yields ample capacity for scrutiny and reflection on the gratuitous and barbarous nature disaster can impose onto those exposed, as well as the penchant for disconnected audiences to conscript those directly impacted by said violence as a supernumerary to dismiss aid.