Freedom Readers
The African American Reception of Dante Alighieri and the “Divine Comedy.”
Bibliographic Data
| ID | 8910025 |
|---|---|
| Authors | Sherry Roush (Pennsylvania State University, corresponding author) |
| Year | 2013 |
| Volume | 50 |
| Issue | 4 |
| Pages | e-14 |
| Publication date | 2013-12-01 |
| Open Access | No |
| Type | ARTICLE |
| Venue | Comparative Literature Studies (JOURNAL) |
| Journal identifiers | ISSN: 0010-4132 • E-ISSN: 1528-4212 |
| Publisher | The Pennsylvania State University Press (PUBLISHER) |
| DOI | 10.5325/complitstudies.50.4.e-14 |
| OpenAlex | W4247598109 |
| Language | EN |
Dennis Looney hooks his readers from the first pages of his introduction with a fascinating examination of a Cincinnati wax museum installation of Dante's otherworld in the late 1820s, and he never lets his readers' attention waver. He notes a nineteenth-century description of the Hiram Powers wax sculpture of a “poor old negro” freezing in the ice of hell and calls it “most likely the earliest association of Dante and African American culture in art [and possibly] the earliest sculpted representation of an African American by a white artist in the United States” (18). Part history, part sociology, part literary scholarship of the highest order, this volume presents the African American reception of Dante's Divine Comedy across the disciplines of literature, film, art, music, and education during the last two centuries.African American readers saw in the Divine Comedy and in the figure of Dante various ways of addressing their own cultural contexts. For example, Dante the politician, exiled from a hostile homeland, helped them to comment on issues of migration and the consequences of speaking truth to power. Moreover, Dante's poem, narrating the otherworldly journey through hell, purgatory, and paradise, could represent a slave narrative on an Exodus paradigm. But just as importantly for Looney, African American readers were particularly attuned to Dante as “a master craftsman of poetic language who forges a new vernacular out of the linguistic diversity around him, not unlike what authors of color have had to do in this country” (3). The book thus engages not just the political readings of Dante's work for Americans of color but also key religious and aesthetic considerations as well. In fact, the great strength of Looney's study derives from how he pulls together, synthesizes, and establishes a commanding foundational critical interpretation of such a broad array of sources, influences, and outcomes.The book is divided into four large chapters based on temporal perspectives on Dante. Looney terms them “Colored Dante,” “Negro Dante,” “Black Dante,” and “African American Dante.” In “Colored Dante,” Looney focuses on the nineteenth-century efforts to abolish slavery in the United States and to unify a nation in Italy and how political partisans in both of these struggles invoked Dante. Of particular interest are the motivations that William Wells Brown had for referring to Dante in the later versions of his novel (published under the titles Miralda in 1861 and Clotelle in 1864 and 1867) and which prompted H. Cordelia Ray's poem “Dante” (1885).Spencer Williams and Ralph Waldo Ellison provide the primary sources for Looney's examination in the “Negro Dante” for the period that spans roughly 1900 until the 1950s. While the black intelligentsia and important filmmakers who have done retrospectives on African American cinema history, including Spike Lee, have almost entirely ignored Williams for his role in the controversial television comedy Amos 'n' Andy (72–73, 223–24), Looney makes great strides in rehabilitating Williams's important cinematic legacy. Williams borrowed clips from previous Italian film depictions of Dante's Inferno in order to create a beguiling race movie, depicting an old, European white Dante and a light-hued Satan along with an all-black cast in Go Down, Death! (1944). The fruits of Looney's research in the archives include a particularly keen perspective on the Ohio regional censorship board, which recommended that Williams cut all of his scenes depicting hell in Go Down, Death! including the sequence in which the devil chews a sinner, prompting Looney to ask: “Was it an all-white board that passed judgment on this all-black film? ... Did the board members have any inkling of what Spencer Williams was doing with his elaborate allusions to Dante through his use of the Milano Films L'inferno? Was there, perhaps, the sense that this black man had no right to lay claim to a white man's hell? Did the noticeably white devil of Padovan and Bertolini make them uncomfortable?” (79). In some cases, more questions arise than the documents can answer, but the uses and reinterpretations of Dante's work in African American contexts are striking.“Black Dante,” the third and longest chapter, consists almost entirely of an examination of one author: LeRoi Jones, who wrote The System of Dante's Hell (1965) under the name Amiri Baraka. Baraka is clearly a favorite focal point of Looney's meticulous scholarly investigations into multiple drafts and editions of the work. But Baraka's vision is complicated by a host of autobiographical factors, including his break with Howard University, his military service, his sexuality, and his status as a “skipped Beat” (108) among the white bohemians of New York's Beat generation, as well as Dante influences mediated by Baraka's reception of works by James Joyce, T. S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, and others. My one wish would have been to see examples of Dante reception by other American authors of color from the late 1960s and early 1970s to help contextualize Baraka's otherwise seemingly isolated contribution. However, discussion of Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye (1970), for instance, does appear in the context of its reception by later writers in “African American Dante.”In the fourth chapter, “African American Dante,” Looney traces an impressive array of contributions from Gloria Naylor, Askia Touré, J. Loftis, Dudley Randall, Carl Phillips, M. F. Grimm, and the Eternal Kool Project. This chapter veritably gleams with the brilliantly faceted discussion of color in Naylor's Linden Hills. Looney's interpretations here continue to be both daring and convincing, making a case for reading references to color in her 1985 novel in terms of Dante's terza rima. Her Dantesque imitation is exceptionally nuanced, requiring a new look at the color descriptors of class, geography, and race: “Abandon ignorance, ye who enter here” (159, quoting Naylor). A brief fifth chapter, “Poets in Exile,” considers contributions by Edward Smythe Jones, as well as by Americans who are not black but who make use of African American imagery or interpretations, including Robert Rauschenberg and Matthew Pearl.In short, Looney's study carefully traces the complex cultural forces that shape how Dante influenced his African American readers and, with an equal measure of sprezzatura, argues the ways in which these African American readers have enriched perspectives on Dante's poem. This, the twelfth volume of the William and Katherine Devers Series in Dante and Medieval Italian Literature more than attests to the vitality and enduring excitement of Dante studies across cultures and time periods
Art · Art history · Comedy · Divine comedy · Literature · History · Philosophy · Race, History, and American Society
| Highly cited | No |
|---|