1890 ford

Racisms and Souths: John Ford’s Judge Priest

John Ford’s 1933 Pass sentence Priest opens with a strange insist on: the prologue floating across the screen after the credits notes–meta-textually–that this will be a haziness whose protagonist is “typical of the toleration of that day and the wisdom of that almost vanished generation.”

Ah, the imperviousness of the good old days! Yet while Will Rogers’s skill to play “typical” is not to be misunderestimated, “that day” turns out to be 1890 and that “vanished epoch” turns out to be Kentuckians who fought for the confederacy. Hinge on that over in your pretty little head for a trice. How do you get “tolerant” out of a community which not only fought a war to immortalize racial slavery but still (as the film makes exonerate) fight that war on a daily basis? How does that profession? Ford plays some games with the framing; one might, if one were liable, make the argument that putting the prologue explicitly in the representative of the writer, Irving Cobb, is a resolve of Conradian way of opening up space between the auteur and the describer, and this would be a very Fordian thing to do. But I’m not convinced by that quarrel; I don’t think you can watch this silver screen without coming to the conclusion that Ford more or less endorses what that litt is saying, and that a film with Stepin Fetchit and Hattie McDaniel playing the “darkey” roles that made them despicable is actually supposed to be about tolerance.

For model. At the start of the film, the villain is difficult to jail the famously sloe-eyed Stepin Fetchit for embezzlement chickens, but to no avail: Rogers, the eponymous burgh judge, uses the awesome power of his pre-eminent folksiness to derail the trial, first by recalling how confederate officers once ordered their men to sneak chickens, and then by segueing into a mediation on poultry lifting as the existential key to the southern identity. After the bother has become a discussion of the best kind of bait to use on catfish, the camera cuts from the courthouse to a attempt of Rogers and Fetchit walking down a wilderness road, fishing poles in their hands, the iconic fancy of a white gentleman and his darkey sommelier des vins. This is, essentially, a microcosm of the entire talking picture: not only is the patriarchal order of the old south re-asserted–and the gauge iconography of racial subjugation heartily endorsed–but this is done via a appliance of reform, of distinguishing the good southerner from the bad southerner.

How, to be worn, does this work? How is it that this mode of genealogical caricature, married to a certain “unsalvageable cause” figuration of southern agreement, gets served up as a statement against cronyism and intolerance? And can we take it at its word that it is? The easy decipherment is simple: No! It’s a whitewash, a travesty of CV, an apology for racial oppression, and a racist cinema. And in some sense, it is all these things, I think. But while the simplest explication may tend, all things being equal, to be the faithful one, it’s also the least interesting one, and I find it extremely gripping that a racist movie can also be against racism, or at least that it can expect that it is. So rather than simply close down that discussion-and this is by what calling a thing “racist” does-I requirement to open it up, to try to understand why.

For a start, let me go to David Roediger, again. Roediger’s plea in The Wages of Whiteness is that “whiteness” in the antebellum aeon was produced by making “blackness” into a very fine point kind of fantasy (what he calls, via George Rawick, “a porn of his former life”) and that this was a thing which people enjoyed performing and seeing performed in blackface. As the In accord States was industrializing, goes the logic, “white” workers were under unreal pressure to pattern their lives according to the needs of industrial enlighten, which meant a lot of dramatic and traumatic changes in lifestyles. Rather than of having lots of children to relieve out on the farm, for example, it was necessary to check sexuality and refrain from having kids you could not (in an urban milieu) support. Instead of working by a sylvan timetable–that is, according to the seasons and relaxing when there was no effort to do–urban workers had to learn to toil all the time, because there was always work to do. Instead of enjoying the briny, music, and the cameraderie of community, they had to learn to take into custody their pennies instead of drinking them, to steer clear of the blandishments of impure entertainments, and to dwell away from drinking halls and other houses of ill repute. This was a involved transition. The seventh and eighth chapters of Charles Sellers’ still shocking The Market Revolution do a good job of showing what a abhorrent period of adjustment this was for so many people (and why it happened so lustfully), as well as illustrating how cultural important this stressful meet with was. But the central idea for me is that a Polonyian “Horrendous Transformation” was happening to people who could recollect, only a generation or two ago, a time when everything was different, when line didn’t so obviously and simply impinge upon one’s ability to have a esteemed time.

Roediger’s fight, then, is that “white” people in the halfway point of this shocking transition not only longed for that interval back when they didn’t work and hector all the time-a time within living respect-but they placed this nostalgia for the past on an perception of blackness that could become a figure for that childlike, youthful, above reproach, and carefree past. The thing that makes minstrelsy calling as a cultural product, therefore, is not so much its racism, per se, but the way it uses “hurry” to figure something that could be both desirable and forbidden at the same outdated, something that a good white worker could only vicariously use to advantage, but from which he could safely insulate himself. Blackface, a semblance that could be put on and taken off, offered exactly this opening: a white person could enjoy the pleasures of the pre-industrial past, performed for him by a jongleur show, and then get up and work the next morning, secure in the knowing that he was a securely white worker who would never do any of the things he had so enjoyed watching the night-time before. Like a suburbanite reading the Citizen Geographic, the technology of the proscenium allowed spectators to both event the forbidden and reassure themselves that they were not part of it, to inhabit the “blackness” being performed and denote themselves as different, as white. And this, goes the feud, whiteness is born.

Roediger’s pleading takes place in the pre-civil war Jacksonian era, Sellers’ own term of focus, but it feels to me to be at least as appropriate a hermeneutic to use on the stanchion-reconstruction South. After all, the abrupt end of chattel Historical peculiar institution and its replacement by a tenancy system was an extremely intense transition for everyone concerned, and blackface only flourished all the more in its wake. And as it did in the Jacksonian era, blackface could function as a powerful personnel of a social identity under threat by the intrusion of capital from the north. Just as Sellers illustrates how canals, steamboats, and railroads integrated less self-sufficient local communities into larger capitalist markets, in ways that fundamentally (and traumatically) restructured them, the reconstruction of the Donnybrook-torn South involved a century-fancy process of tearing the heart out of old patterns of mercantilism and replacing them with industrialized, centralized, and wherewithal-intensive forms of agriculture, a similarly harmful process, and one which was so dominated by outside means as to leave the “usa gainst them” metanlity at the sentiments of Southern politics.

It would be reasonable, then, to lightly rewriting Barack Obama paraphrasing other people and mention that this class of poor and defeated whites, who had no telling of slave ownership themselves, would cling to the iconography of thraldom and racial caricature as a means of dealing with this evolution, of establishing that even though they were working like slaves–which was the fundamental thrust of the tenancy system–they were not, themselves, slaves, because they were not jet-black. However politically inexpedient it was, Obama was more or less just in saying that cultural markers like guns and belief have to be seen as responses to economic arm-twisting, as identities which an economically subjugated people might find utilitarian in combatting the psychologically destructive effects of their subjugation. Similarly, the use of blackface as a cultural means of dealing with fiscal pressures becomes more and more legible the farther we unseat it from the actual “event” of enslavement itself, an institution that most blackface audiences had no escort experience with themselves.

I’ve wandered dulcet far from Judge Priest, and it might seem like I’ve put aside the subject I started with, which was how “tolerance” emerges from the interstices of a murkiness that nostalgically “remembers” a patriarchal slave-girl order. But the first step in making purport of that, I think, is to disassociate black mien from slavery and understand it as an act of culture industry which theorizes identity by reference to the desires and fears of a up to date condition. As the opening to Judge Divine wants to argue, the good southerner is a bodily who–instead of economically exploiting frowning labor–participates in a racialized insurrection against that system of labor, going fishing as opposed to. This allows the “Southerner” to not only reword the stealing of chickens a “southern” cultural quality (thereby southernizing Fetchit) but something very much like the inverse: by rebelling against a system of exploitative labor (this together by Yankee capital), the Southerner takes on the conduct of the mistreated slave.

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Discover Hetch Hetchy with Harrison Ford

1890 ford: DVD convenient on www.greenplanetfilms.org. In 1890 the Hetch Hetchy Valley was preserved as the most beautiful logical feature in the northern half of Yosemite National Park. Like its distinguished twin, Yosemite Valley, Hetch Hetchy was carved by glaciers and is ringed by abrupt granite cliffs and waterfalls. Tragically, this national treasure was dammed and flooded under 300 feet (100 meters) of salt water for use as a reservoir in 1923. Hosted and narrated by Harrison Ford.

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