Unlike the usual happy and celebratory feeling associated with birthdays, birthdays and days of birth seem to be a bad omen in Kindred.
We learn in the very first paragraph of The River (right after the prologue) that Dana's troubling time travels to the nineteenth century begin on her 26th birthday, June 9, 1976. This is small detail when we don't yet know who Rufus is or Dana's family history. I quickly skimmed over the fact until Dana realizes that Rufus and Alice are some of her great (times three or four) grandparents, and it became a conspicuous detail to start Dana's series of visits on her birthday.
Dana's birth becomes the crux of a central dilemma in the book. As we discussed in class, the worth and morality of Dana's existence and conception is called into question; she herself has to choose between facilitating the birth of her ancestors and trying to prevent it. It is obviously painful for her to push Alice along. Rufus' rape highlights an abundance of problems: the blind mindset of physically "owning" a person/body, the unfairness to Alice as a black female slave, even the plight of Rufus who loves Alice as a white man.
Understandably, Dana is super frustrated when she returns to the 1800's and Alice has had three children, two who are dead and none Hagar. It's a setback to any considerations of intervention between Alice and Rufus among other things. The lone baby Joe, however, looks white, which will place him in a different position than kids who are born looking black. Any children who look black enough have a big chance of becoming slaves.
Slave births are a strange, sweet-bitter type of event. Nigel's scene with Weylin in the middle of The Fight (161) is a perfect example. The parents are obviously happy about the baby, yet as Nigel says, Weylin is "one [n-word] richer" because of the child. And Nigel is also tied down to the plantation by one more person (Carrie being the other).
Births highlight the central racial issues in Kindred, and Octavia Butler sets a brutal trend with these examples. She reinforces the points by setting the novel during the nation's bicentennial, a reminder that with the birth of the US also developed a history of problematic slavery.
The issue of birth is a major point in this novel. It adds another level of complexity to the plot, where Dana has to maneuver around it carefully before she can relax after Hagar is born. Once Hagar is born, she can defend herself better without actually endangering her whole existence.
ReplyDeleteI didn't even notice the detail about Dana's birthday. Wow. But it does seem like births have all-around negative associations in Kindred, huh? Births are usually associated with new beginnings, fresh starts, blank slates, and all that. Very bubbly, sunny events with the occasional lens flare, and awfully common in cheery epilogues to romance stories. But to have Dana keep confronting troubling births and birthdays throughout the course of her travels is pretty disheartening. Her "birth" to the world of time travel isn't like a cute baby, but the start of Terrible Twos yet to come as her involvements with Rufus and his setting become darker and darker. Or something.
ReplyDeleteThis is a really interesting observation; births in play a huge role in this novel. Dana's birth in particular is very interesting because it isn't her birth that she is trying to protect, it is the birth of her ancestor she must make sure happens to ensure her own birth. I think that this is a really interest aspect of the book because to me it gives Dana that detachment from her actions towards Rufus and Alice when she is trying to make sure Hagar is born.
ReplyDeleteCould there be a more elemental, fundamental illustration of the psychological and existential horror of slavery than the fact that the birth of a child (often the product of rape) is such an ambivalent event? The most natural of causes for human celebration, as you note, in this novel is greeted with ambivalence and muted celebration. Can we even imagine what it must be like to bring a child into the world, knowing it will grow up only to learn that he or she is a slave? How does a parent first explain that one?
ReplyDeleteToni Morrison's postmodern slave narrative _Beloved) addresses this question in a particularly unforgettable way.