Challenges and Surprises in Equiano's Narrative

It seems to be pretty clear that An Interesting Narrative was written with a certain audience in mind, and even clearer that I am not that audience. Like many mentioned in class today, reading the historical autobiography has proved to be challenging in multiple ways.

For one, the text constantly refers to people, places, and events that I am unfamiliar with. My edition has footnotes that often provides additional context on these subjects, but it can be exhausting to continually search for more information. I wonder if readers in the 1789 British world felt the same way. Was reading about the foreign customs and long-concealed slave practices overwhelming, or humbling as they realized how much they did not know?

Another obstacle in my understanding of An Interesting Narrative has been its exceedingly formal language. Sometimes, it felt like Equiano was so concerned with not offending the British lords that it masked any true anger he may have felt. And regardless of the tone, the style of almost never-ending sentences sometimes makes it difficult for me to get the point of what Equiano is saying. However, I think reading this style will become easier as I get used to it.

Finally, Equiano's narrative surprised me with its cheerfulness. I expected to be reading the words of a bitter, passionate man, yet his message is mostly positive and respectful. Constantly, Equiano looks on the bright side of his circumstances and relates his gratitude at the friends he makes and the elements of white culture that he adopts. To be honest, his style reminds me a bit of Voltaire's Candide (1759), and I'm not sure if that was intentional or not. Candide is a French satire that uses absurd optimism to critique social structures, and I wonder if Equiano is trying to do the same thing. 

I am certainly being challenged and surprised by An Interesting Narrative, but I still look forward to reading more and seeing how Equiano's life and ideas evolve.

Smasher Sullivan Analysis

Smasher Sullivan is my least favorite character in The Secret River, and I'd guess that I'm probably not alone on that. With a name that sounds like a villain in an old western, he appears to be the archetypal character for the reader to root against.

I think Smasher Sullivan carries many different significances in The Secret River. For one, his explicit racism, sexism, pride in violence, and barbaric acts contrast him from the more divided Thornhills. I wonder if Grenville created Smasher Sullivan's character almost as a way of reassuring herself that while her own ancestor did horrible things to Aboriginal people, he could have been much worse. The Thornhills see themselves in the same way. 

This same logic persists today when people try to convince themselves that they are not really racist, sexist, homophobic, etc. because they aren't 'as bad' as someone else. Besides being outright false, this perspective is extremely dangerous because it masks accountability and recognition of one's own biases. Perhaps this message is part of what Grenville is trying to communicate as William Thornhill is initially disgusted by Smasher Sullivan's treatment of the Aboriginal people but slowly is more and more tempted to commit violence against them himself.

The other quality that I believe Smasher Sullivan represents is the duality between white people's hatred and fetishization of native people. While seeing the Aboriginal people as sub-human pests, Smasher Sullivan also finds an Aboriginal woman attractive enough to make her his sex slave. That entire scene made me nauseous, but it also made me think about the way white people have appropriated native culture and regalia throughout history. It is as if white people want to extinguish native culture and can't get enough of it all at once. 

So while Smasher Sullivan seems like the obvious villain of The Secret River, I think his character is much more nuanced and representative upon closer inspection. I hope the Thornhills are able to stay away from him as the book continues.  

Reflection on Lecture Part B

The lecture Part B helped me reflect on who gets to tell a people's story, and why. As mentioned, The Secret River sparked controversy for not including the perspective or words of native characters. I learned that this was especially evident during the stage adaptation of the book, where it became glaringly obvious that aboriginal people were not given a voice in their own story. 

To be honest, I'm not sure if I think Grenville should have written dialogue from aboriginal characters. Like some in class mentioned, maybe the best route of action would have been for her to collaborate or even co-author with a writer of Aboriginal descent to authentically write those parts. Hearing the words of a character elevate their importance in a story and make it easier for the reader to empathize and understand their point of view. In a world where history is usually written by the victors, it seems dangerous for historical fiction to follow the same trend.

In her interview, Grenville appeared to be proud of herself for exposing her family's dark history instead of making excuses or covering it up. While she mostly presents her ancestors as the enemy, in profiting off of her story about them she becomes like a hero. The situation is in a grey area, where one asks if Grenville's storytelling is positive change or if it is simply benefitting from Aboriginal people's pain in a new form. 

A common literary trope is the unreliable narrator, where the character narrating events has biases that affect what they do and do not say. Perhaps we need to read The Secret River as if it were written by an unreliable author, whose own ancestry and implicit biases affect the way Aboriginal perspectives are presented.

Settler Colonialism in The Secret River and There There

In 1968, W.E.H. Stanner announced that “there is a secret river of blood in Australian history.” A large part of understanding The Secret River as well as There There is recognizing the violence of settler colonialism that has long been concealed, forgotten, and excused.

The Secret River certainly criticizes the British settler’s colonization of Australia and their failure to try to understand and live harmoniously with its Aboriginal inhabitants. Yet what I found interesting is that at times, it also seemed to elicit pity for the white settlers and all they had gone through during their “pioneering” and even their poverty back in London. Will Thornhill initially is represented as a victim of an unjust social structure, but slowly shifts to becoming the perpetrator of another harmful structure in New South Wales. It’s unclear to me whether Grenville is reinforcing the myth of the “pioneer with good intentions”, totally condemning it, or a bit of both.

The personal perspective of the indigenous person is not represented in The Secret River, and the personal perspective of the settler colonizer is not present in There There. In Orange’s novel, Native voices take precedence and a variety of characters get the opportunity to define what settler colonialism means to them. There is no ambiguity regarding the conflicting intentions of the white colonizers, and I felt like a more resolute, negative stance is taken against settler colonialism itself. To me, this difference between the two novels is a positive one.

Reading The Secret River and There There reveals how many of the core beliefs that contribute to settler colonialism have not disappeared. In both novels, Native people are regarded as inferior, difficult to understand, less ‘refined’, intelligent, or moral as white people, and much more. This reality helps portray settler colonialism as a “structure, not an event” as explained in the video lectures and highlights how much progress needs to be made on the road to reconciliation.

Question: New 'Steeples' in Part 3

In Part 1 of The Secret River, Will regards London's steeples as always watching over him, maybe even embodying God. They are formidable figures that judge his every move. In Part 3, do you think there are any new symbols, structures, or characters that play the part of the 'steeple' and watch over Will?

The Role of the “Strangers” Section

The “Strangers” section in The Secret River reminded me over the opening scene of a movie. Its a gripping, unexpected scene that leaves the audience recoiling with questions, wondering how did we get here? And the explanation subsequently follows, the prologue-like backstory that is Part One.

Initially, that’s all I thought the “Strangers” section was: a plot device to keep the readers reading. But now I’m wondering if Grenville intended for her audience to make connections between the events and themes in both beginning parts.

One such theme could be the quality of belonging. In London, Thornhill wants to belong in his family and in a higher class. In Australia, he is thrust into an environment in which he does not belong, or maybe he sees otherwise. Another theme could be that of judgement and false perception. Most of the Londoners see Thornhill as a dirty thief, inhuman and immoral. Thornhill protests this treatment, but then inflicts the same judgment on the Aboriginal “stranger.”

Finally, the “Strangers” section could be placed to remind the readers about space, place, and ownership. Thornhill wants to acquire so much in his early life: a house, a boat, Sal, food, freedom, land. He wants to have things to his name. Yet many Aboriginal traditions do not view ownership the same way, especially of things like natural resources and land. Situating a scene by “Thornhill’s hut” on “Thornhill’s land” could hint at tension to come.

Water in The Secret River

As I mentioned in class today, one of the primary images that stood out to me in The Secret River was the reoccurrence of water. Of course, the title of the novel contains a body of water, but I do not know the meaning of that yet. As far as I can tell, the River Thames is anything but secret. 

Water is also present in the never-ending rain in Thornhill’s London. Falling from the heavens, battering the streets and those who live on it, perhaps the rain represents oppression and a lack of control. Water continues to serve as a negative image with the frozen lake, which could possibly refer to the stagnant state of Thornhill’s wealth and hope during the winter time. And while I haven’t yet read about Thornhill’s account of his voyage to Australia, I would guess that he detested the ocean waters too.

The only positive reflection of water so far is the River Thames. To Thornhill, it symbolizes freedom, control, self-confidence, and an exciting look into the wealthy world he does not have access too. In a way, Thornhill encountering wealthy gentry on the Thames reminds me of Gatsby gazing at the East Egg from his West Egg home: both are tantalizingly close to an unattainable prize.

As we continue reading, I will be sure to look out for more images of water and their possible meanings.