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Throughlines offers a variety of freely accessible teaching materials to help you incorporate premodern critical race studies into your teaching. Specifically designed for use in higher education, the materials on Throughlines include lectures, pedagogical approaches, exemplar syllabi, classroom discussion models, an annotated bibliography and more.

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Abdulhamit Arvas

Othello and Othello and Othello

Beginning with the play’s earliest performance, we study Othello from various critical perspectives through close analysis of the play-text and adaptations on film and stage. For several weeks students read the text of the play slowly and closely, paying particular attention to Shakespeare’s use of language, metaphor, genre, and dramatic form.

Course Description

Shakespeare’s Othello has been one of the most controversial and popular Shakespearean plays. In this class, we examine issues of race, religion, gender, class, and sexuality in the past as well as the present. Beginning with the play’s earliest performance, we study Othello from various critical perspectives through close analysis of the play-text and adaptations on film and stage. For several weeks students read the text of the play slowly and closely, paying particular attention to Shakespeare’s use of language, metaphor, genre, and dramatic form. Then they investigate the complex meanings of race, religion, gender, social status, and sexuality in premodern England through Othello as well as other medieval and early modern materials.

In addition to recent interpretative criticism and the performance history of the play, including the use of blackface on stage and in film, the course also includes global adaptations of the play in various forms, including Giuseppe Verdi’s opera Otello, Vishal Bhardwaj’s film Omkara, Toni Morrison’s play Desdemona, Tayeb Salih’s novel Season of Migration to the North, and Keith Hamilton Cobb’s American Moor. By using Othello and its afterlives as a case study, the course considers the relevance of Othello, and Shakespeare in general, to our understanding of race, religion, gender, sexuality, class, and immigration today.

Modules

1. Texts, contexts, and sources

  • The Text of the Play: Shakespeare, William. Othello. Edited by Michael Neill. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.

    I typically assign Neill’s edition as I find its introduction and appendix particularly rich for teaching and query. In the final assignment, I ask students to return to Neill’s introduction and critique it—identifying what they would omit, add, or reorganize—while drafting their own version. I encourage students to own the text as experts and to consider what themes, critical frameworks, performance histories, or scholarly debates they find most essential to an engaged reading of the play.
  • Cinthio, Giraldi. The Moor of Venice, 1565.
  • Excerpts from Leo Africanus. A Geographical Historie of Africa. Translated by John Pory, 1600.
  • Selections from Loomba, Ania, and Jonathan Burton, eds. Race in Early Modern England: A Documentary Companion. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007.

2. Critical responses: race, religion, gender, sexuality, class

In this module, students write four short close-reading papers—on gender, race, sexuality, and religion, respectively—in which they focus on a single, specific moment, word, phrase, image, or short passage from Othello. This method of literary analysis allows us to notice how Shakespeare’s language invites multiple interpretations and generates complex messages. Each paper shares the same task—close read a passage with a strong thesis—but requires students to re-read the play through a different critical lens.

When students write about race, my goal is for them to consider how race is constructed through language, skin color, foreignness, nationhood, and/or hierarchy. How does the play racialize characters, and to what effect? Students should focus on terms of description, metaphor, otherness, idealization, or insult, and note when race is made visible or invisible.

3. Concluding assignment: Rewriting the introduction to Othello

After students have read Othello multiple times and critically engaged with the play through close reading, performance analysis, and thematic exploration, the final assignment invites them to step into the role of editor, scholar, or teacher. In this assignment students demonstrate what they have learned this semester by showing how they would now guide others into the play.

Students revise the introduction of the Oxford World’s Classics edition of Othello—the one they have used throughout the class. They rethink how the play should be presented to students and readers today. Rather than rewriting the introduction itself, their task is to critique, reimagine, and design a new one.

Students organize their response into these required sections:

1. What’s missing?

Students identify what they think is absent from the current Oxford edition introduction.

  • What key themes, perspectives, or contexts are underdeveloped or missing entirely?
  • In the 21st century, what conversations about Othello should be foregrounded that the edition sidelines or omits?
2. What would you omit, and why?

Students consider how space in a scholarly edition should be used purposefully and inclusively.

  • Are there aspects of the existing introduction that feel outdated, overly canonical, or unnecessarily emphasized?
  • What would students cut or shorten—and why?
3. What would you add?

This final assignment requires students to articulate their vision for the edition:

  • What would they include in their new introduction?
  • What themes, critical frameworks, performance histories, or scholarly debates did students find most essential to an engaged reading of the play?
  • What perspectives—feminist, queer, postcolonial, Black studies, disability studies, performance studies—should be centered?
  • Are there recent adaptations or performances that shift how we understand the play?
  • Students have the option to respond as a teacher (what would I want students to learn from Othello?) or as a scholar (what does the public need to rethink or revisit?). They may imagine their new introduction as part of a public-facing edition or as a classroom tool.
4. How would you organize It?

Students may submit their work in outline form or as continuous prose (or a combination). Bullet points, headings, and short paragraphs are welcome: they do not need to write a formal essay.

Students must propose a possible structure or table of contents for their new introduction. They may list:

  • Section headings and subtitles
  • Topics to be included in each section
  • Examples of key texts, productions, or scholarly perspectives to reference
  • New questions readers should consider

Readings and bibliography

  • Boyarin, Daniel. “Othello’s Penis: Or, Islam in the Closet.” In Shakesqueer: A Queer Companion to the Complete Works of Shakespeare, edited by Madhavi Menon, 254–62. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2011.
  • Burton, Jonathan, Kate Fisher, and Sarah Toulalan. “Western Encounters with Sex and Bodies in Non-European Cultures, 1500–1750.” In The Routledge History of Sex and the Body, edited by Sarah Toulalan and Kate Fisher, 495–510. London: Routledge, 2016.
  • Harris, Jonathan Gil. “Shakespeare and Race.” In The New Cambridge Companion to Shakespeare, edited by Margreta de Grazia and Stanley Wells, 201–16. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.
  • Little Jr., Arthur L. Shakespeare Jungle Fever: National-Imperial Re-Visions of Race, Rape, and Sacrifice. Chapter 2. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2000.
  • Loomba, Ania. “Identities and Bodies in Early Modern Studies.” In The Oxford Handbook of Shakespeare and Embodiment: Gender, Sexuality, and Race, edited by Valerie Traub, 228–46. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016.
  • Masten, Jeffrey, and Valerie Traub. “Glossing and T*pping: Editing Sexuality, Race, and Gender in Othello.” In The Oxford Handbook of Shakespeare and Embodiment, edited by Valerie Traub, 569-586. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016.
  • Neill, Michael. “Unproper Beds: Race, Adultery, and the Hideous in Othello.” Shakespeare Quarterly 40, no. 4 (1989): 383–412.
  • Newman, Karen. “‘And Wash the Ethiop White’: Femininity and the Monstrous in Othello.” In Shakespeare Reproduced: The Text in History and Ideology, edited by Jean E. Howard and Marion F. O’Connor, 142–62. New York: Methuen, 1987.
  • Sanchez, Melissa E. “The Erotic Life of Racism in The Merchant of Venice and Othello.” In Shakespeare and Queer Theory, 111-142. London: Bloomsbury Arden Shakespeare, 2019.
  • Smith, Ian. “We Are Othello.” In Black Shakespeare: Reading and Misreading Race, 156–181. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2022.
  • Smith, Ian, and Jyotsna G. Singh. “The Queer Moor: Bodies, Borders, and Barbary Inns.” In A Companion to the Global Renaissance, edited by Jyotsna G. Singh. 190–204. Oxford: Wiley‐Blackwell, 2009.
  • Vitkus, Daniel J. “Turning Turk in Othello: The Conversion and Damnation of the Moor." In Turning Turk: English Theater and the Multicultural Mediterranean, 1570–1630, 77–106. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003.

Productions: stage and screen

  • Orson Welles, dir. Othello. 1952.
  • Stuart Burge, dir. Othello. 1965.
  • Jonathan Miller, dir. Othello. 1981.
  • Trevor Nunn, dir. Othello. 1989.
  • Oliver Parker, dir. Othello. 1995.
  • Tim Blake Nelson, dir. O. 2001.
  • Vishal Bhardwaj, dir. Omkara. 2006.
  • Iqbal Khan, dir. Othello. 2015.
  • Mehmet Ali Sanlikol, dir. Othello in the Seraglio. 2015.

Whose Othello

  • Cobb, Keith Hamilton. American Moor. Modern Plays. London: Bloomsbury Methuen Drama, 2020.
  • Hall, Kim F. “I Can’t Love This the Way You Want Me To: Archival Blackness.” postmedieval: A Journal of Medieval Cultural Studies 11, no. 2–3 (2020): 171-79.
  • Morrison, Toni. Desdemona. New York: Vintage International, 2012.
  • Salih, Tayeb. Season of Migration to the North. Translated by Denys Johnson-Davies. New York: New York Review Books, 2009.
Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
Video
Abdulhamit Arvas

Sexualization of Islam in Turk plays

“Turk plays” used race, religion, and sexuality to construct and enforce difference portraying Muslims, Jews, and Black people as sexually deviant or unnatural. Studying these texts reveals how early modern depictions of sexuality and race intersected.

Students of literature are often taught critical frameworks as isolated methods of inquiry. It actually makes sense: in order to analyze a subject fully and carefully, the methodology needs to be clear. But in life, these distinctions are not cut and dry. One’s embodiment is mostly a messy site of conflated markers of gender, race, sexuality, and class. It’s therefore important for me to show students how to trace these markers intersectionally—that is, I want them to see not just how our past and present is connected, but how constructions of identity and difference are not singular. I introduce students to this mode of thinking through the reading of Turk plays. It is important for students to understand the plays in terms of both the history of sexuality and the construction of race. Teaching the history of sexuality in the West, by necessity, starts with introducing the concept of sodomy. While the term today is often used synonymously with male homosexuality, in the early modern period, “sodomy” was a theological and legal term referring to any non-reproductive sex acts considered “against nature.” This included same-sex and cross-sex anal and oral sex. As a crime against, and transgression of, the natural, sodomy was often associated with foreign lands and people—while English Christianity was seen as the epitome of the natural. This association was especially applicable towards Turks and the people of the Mediterranean. After the Reformation, England—newly excluded from the Catholic league—sought to foster ties with the Ottoman East. From the 1580s onwards, English merchants, diplomats, and travelers entered the Ottoman lands and reported social and cultural life there. These accounts generated a rich body of literary and dramatic representations, especially what we call Turk plays—plays such as A Christian Turned Turk, The Renegado, Selimus, Tamburlaine, and most known to students, Shakespeare’s Othello. These accounts did not depict Muslim sexuality directly but instead associated it with sodomy to contrast English norms. Studying these texts together reveals patterns in the representation of the Mediterranean world: eunuchs, beautiful boys, harems, and circumcised men and so forth—this is an imagined world where racial and religious differences are marked through skin color, clothing, and turbans. Muslim, Jewish, and Black people are often conflated and represented as failing in heterosexual norms. Racialized men of different religions are associated with homosexuality and effeminacy, and women with masculinity, lesbianism, witchcraft, and most frequently, with adultery. They are depicted as cheaters who are dissatisfied with their circumcised husbands. In these plays, racial difference is sexualized, and sexual difference is racialized. Interracial and cross-religious relations are set to fail in heterosexual unions, and are marked as sodomitical and by extension, even bestial. Take Shakespeare’s Othello for example. Othello’s racial and religious difference is blurred by the derogatory epitaph “Moor”—a term signifying non-Christian and non-white people of mostly North African descent. After being trapped in Iago’s racist plot and murdering his wife Desdemona, Othello identifies himself with a reference to circumcision: “In Aleppo once,” he says, “Where a malignant and a turbaned Turk / Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, / I took by th’ throat the circumcisèd dog / And smote him thus.” Othello destroys the Turkish figure he has created by stabbing himself. But why does he use circumcision to demarcate his difference? A few years before this play was staged, King James I wrote a poem titled “Lepanto” about the Ottoman defeat at the Battle of Lepanto where he sets “circumcised Turban’d Turkes” fighting against “the baptiz’d race.” Circumcision and turban are racial markers of a religious difference. Othello’s black, “Moorish” body and his sexual function as an extension of it is presented as a problem in white Christian Venice. Iago’s racist account of sex between black Othello and white Desdemona marks interracial sex as a scandal of bestial sodomy: “an old black ram / Is tupping your white ewe.” Iago animalizes Othello as “a Barbary horse” whose sexual performance would bear unnatural, monstrous children: “coursers… jennets.” Othello’s use of “circumcisèd dog” as a curse to defamiliarize and dehumanize himself before his suicide not only reduces him to the level of disposable animals but reconnects his racial and sexual difference by conflating the circumcised man and castrated dog. In many early modern Turk plays, the circumcised male body is marked by racial and religious difference and rendered a sodomitical failure. These are texts that allow students to dissect the complicated layers of othering through sexuality and race. Once students can trace these constructions in the early modern past, they begin to see how unstable these markers of difference are in the present. This is one of the most rewarding aspects of teaching the literature and history of the distant past. Students leave the course understanding that the seemingly universal and inevitable norms of our world, like race, the gender binary, patriarchal oppression, and heteronormativity are, in fact, not universal or inevitable. Studying the past allows us to see alternative routes that were available but not taken in the past—meaning, we didn’t have to end up where we are today. And we don’t have to settle for and maintain a path we didn’t choose.

In Turk plays like A Christian Turn'd Turk, The Renegado, Selimus, Tamburlaine, and Shakespeare’s Othello racial difference is sexualized, and sexual difference is racialized. These texts reveal patterns in the representation of the Mediterranean as an imagined world where racial and religious differences are often conflated and represented as failing in heterosexual norms. Racialized men of different religions are associated with homosexuality and effeminacy, and women with masculinity, witchcraft, and adultery.  Once students can trace the constructions of gender, sexuality, and race in the early modern past, they begin to see how unstable these markers of difference are in the present.

Early Modern
Literature
Gender and sexuality
Shakespeare
Video
Abdulhamit Arvas

Racialized genders in the early modern world

Abdulhamit Arvas teaches on the interwoven concepts of race, religion, and gender within early modern Europe. Travel narratives offer insights on how race and religion were gendered, and how gender and sexuality became a mark of racialization.

Racialized genders in the early modern world Abdulhamit Arvas On January 20, 2025, the newly inaugurated U.S. administration issued an executive order titled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government.” This order aims to enforce the male/female gender binary in all federal law and administrative policy. It draws on familiar narratives that portray transgender identity as a threat to the sanctity of women’s spaces—particularly bathrooms and locker rooms. This order was soon followed by additional executive orders: the January 28th order, “Protecting Children from Chemical and Surgical Mutilation,” which aims to restrict gender-affirming care for minors, and the February 5th order, “Keeping Men out of Women’s Sports,” which intends to redefine Title IX around binary sex categories—effectively excluding trans and gender-expansive individuals from educational athletics programs. These executive actions deploy a rhetoric of protection—of women and children, and fairness in sports—to justify policies that restrict the rights and recognition of trans and gender-diverse people. While the language of these policies may seem new, their underlying logic belongs to a much older pattern. They form part of a longer, transatlantic history in which gender, sexuality, and race have been mobilized to draw boundaries around citizenship, public morality, and belonging. Whether in the U.S. or the UK, these tactics echo long established strategies: using fear to define the normative and marginalize the other. What we are seeing now is not an isolated episode, but part of a well-worn script. In order to fully and critically understand the moment we are in now, we must look back at the construction of the gender binary as a social norm. It is important to recognize that the gender binary naturalized today—the one based on an essentialized biological difference—has a history. There is no such thing as a universal gender binary. It is a construction that has morphed, expanded, and been reshaped over time. Investigations of gender into the distant past, I must note, do not solely aim to trace gender-troubling or trans-like figurations of the past, but also to examine the historical production of cisgender identities. By looking more broadly at how the gender binary has developed, we can begin to see the processes in which whiteness, patriarchal oppression, and heteronormativity are constructed in tandem. As a scholar of premodern literature, I introduce my students to texts from the distant past to trace the historical development of the gender binary. Early modern texts are particularly rich for this kind of analysis because they are filled with representations of diverse gender expressions and identities. The texts I teach feature characters who are described as hermaphrodites, impotent men, effeminates, eunuchs, tribades, sodomites, Amazonian warriors, and androgynous entertainers, among others. When we trace constructions of gender and other forms of embodiment, that is when we focus on the body, we inevitably attend to race. People whose genders and bodily morphologies fell outside the normative gender dichotomy were often stigmatized and associated with foreignness—frequently connected to the Mediterranean, Africa, and later the Americas. Travel narratives by writers like Nicholas de Nicolay, George Sandys, and William Lithgow construct gender difference by projecting it onto others—detailing corporeal features like genital size, body piercing, circumcision, and castration as part of the racializing process. As these narratives returned to Europe and entered the cultural consciousness, the representations of racial and gendered others were integrated into arts and literature. In Ben Jonson’s Volpone, for instance, we encounter exoticized gender variant figures such as Castrone the eunuch, Androgyno the hermaphrodite, and Nano the dwarf as outlandish members of Volpone’s household. They are described, in the play, as Volpone’s “bastards,” whom “he begot on beggars, / Gipsies, and Jews, and black-moors.” This formulation presents these gender non-conforming figures as racially othered. The hermaphrodite, in particular, was often associated with Muslim and Jewish reproduction, and was depicted among the so-called monstrous races of Asia and Africa. The Mediterranean world, in this context, is imagined as a space of interracial couplings that generate mutable bodies of different shapes and genders. I assign my students a mixture of early modern travel narratives, medical texts, and dramatic literature. I ask them to explore how the literary representations can inform us about historical discourses of gender and race. And through this analysis, I ask them: what creative expansions of gender plurality exist in the past? As we read early modern texts, we might ask: What do representations of racially othered figures—such as the Jewish man, the Black man, the Black woman, the Muslim, the Turk, the circumcised man, the eunuch, or the Amazonian—reveal about racial, religious, and gender variance? Is Othello, the Black “Moor” of Venice, the same gender as the white Iago? Why and how does Captain Ward of A Christian Turned Turk change in terms of his masculine virility after he converts to Islam and gets circumcised? Does Viola’s desire to become a eunuch in Twelfth Night suggest a wish to transition into a new, distinct gender that is neither man nor boy? Understanding how the Europeans of the early modern period conceived of the gender binary—and how they connected gender plurality to racial and religious difference—can help us see how the rhetoric of difference continues to be mobilized today. When we understand gender, racial, and religious difference as interlocking structures, we can begin to denaturalize the supposed ubiquity of biological race and the gender binary. And once we’ve untethered that false certainty, we can imagine and create a world with far more possibility and inclusivity than the one rendered by today’s dominant political imaginary.

Understanding how the Europeans of the early modern period conceived of the gender binary—and how they connected gender plurality to racial and religious difference—can help us see how the rhetoric of difference continues to be mobilized today. As we read early modern texts, we might ask:  

  • What do representations of racially othered figures—such as the Jewish man, the Black man, the Black woman, the Muslim, the Turk, the circumcised man, the eunuch, or the Amazonian—reveal about racial, religious, and gender variance?  
  • Is Othello, the Black “Moor” of Venice, the same gender as the white Iago?  
  • Why and how does Captain Ward of A Christian Turned Turk change in terms of his masculine virility after he converts to Islam and gets circumcised?  
  • Does Viola’s desire to become a eunuch in Twelfth Night suggest a wish to transition into a new, distinct gender that is neither man nor boy?  

When we understand gender, racial, and religious difference as interlocking structures, we can begin to denaturalize the supposed ubiquity of biological race and the gender binary.

Early Modern
Literature
Gender and sexuality
Shakespeare
Video
Patricia Akhimie

Editorial influence in Othello

How have editors shaped the way Shakespeare is read? Teaching students how to detect editorial choices across different editions of Shakespeare’s Othello offers a way into understanding how the canon is created.

I was in high school the first time I was given a copy of Othello. It was the Folger edition edited by Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine, but at the time I probably couldn’t have told you that. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to think of it as anything other than Shakespeare’s play. It was just Othello. We were reading it for school. This is how many students are positioned to read the plays: Shakespeare is Shakespeare. The play is the play. A 400-year-old play, especially one as embedded in our literary and performance cultures as Othello, can’t be read in isolation. When I teach this text, it is vital to show my students how Othello has been handled throughout time, and especially through a lineage of editorial decisions. I need my students to understand how the book became the book in their hands, and how the editors of that particular edition have a hand in the meaning-making process of the play. This is important, especially for plays like Othello, which have several early versions that are contradictory to each other. Every editor of every edition has to contend with the variations amongst the early versions, but also the lineage of editorial decisions that have been passed down in the centuries of making this play available to readers. My students are invited to consider how, by the time they pick up the book, an editor has already engaged in the interpretive work of the text and has made significant changes that will influence a reader’s experience and understanding. I want them to see how editors are human and that everything they do when they are working with a text is subjective. Each edition is created at a single point in time and space, so it’s always going to be a product of the social and political realities of its origin. It’s also important to note that historically the demographic makeup of the scholars who engage in editing is homogenous—most scholarly editions have been created by white men. So, what does that mean for a play like Othello? Let’s start with an example. In Act 1 scene 3, Othello has eloped with Desdemona during the night. He has been accused by her father, Brabantio, of coercing her to marry him—implying that this relationship could not be consensual and that his daughter has been violated by Othello. Brabantio hauls Othello in front of the senate to answer for this crime, and Othello, in his first lengthy speech of the play, defends himself. This is a moment of heightened tension, and every word Othello says is crucial. But there are two early versions of the play that render this speech differently. In fact, these versions, the 1623 Folio and the 1622 Quarto, are full of differences, which is what makes Othello such a difficult play to edit. To make one cohesive and coherent version of this old book for new readers, an editor must constantly compare two equally authoritative versions of the play that sometimes disagree and contradict each other in significant ways. This is one of those moments. In both versions, Othello defends himself against Brabantio’s accusations by saying that Desdemona did consent. He says that she fell in love with him over the course of his many invited visits to their home, at her father’s request, and that she made her affection and desire for him clear. In the Quarto, Othello says, “she gave me for my pains a world of sighs.” That is, she had a strong empathetic response. She felt for him, and thus she fell for him. But in the Folio, Othello says something different. He says, “she gave me for my pains a world of kisses.” This is a little more specific. She had a strong response, and it led to physical intimacy initiated by her. There’s a lot at play here and even more at stake. Othello is a non-European character with dark skin—a Black man. He is one of the first, if not the first, Black men in English literature to be represented as a fully formed, three-dimensional character. And in this moment, he is accused of essentially raping or otherwise assaulting a white woman, the daughter of a senator. This is a moment in which race, as represented through physical and cultural difference, plays a major role in the happenings of the story. Race is what makes the conflict of the play perilous, and it is sharpened by Shakespeare throughout Act I, in which characters continue to degrade Othello with racist slurs and stereotypes. The question of whether Desdemona and Othello’s relationship was consensual, and whether it was physically intimate, is a crucial one. The reading of this scene, without the understanding of the editorial decisions being made in the text, is highly dependent on the edition. So, when our students pick up a copy of Othello, they will be influenced by the editorial decisions made in the edition that they have—unless they are taught how to read for that influence. While the several slight variations of one line in a play might seem quibbly or small, this ability to read through and around a text like Othello is an important one for students to develop. Not only does it destabilize an assumption of authority or universality within these old, canonical texts, but it forces them to read any and all texts as mediated. It gives students agency, authority, and expertise over the supposed or predetermined “truths” of our world and asks them to be a participant in their own meaning-making.

There is no such thing as a neutral edition of Shakespeare. Each edition is interpreted, selected, and published within the context of the editor’s priorities, expectations, and audience. Teaching students the subjectivity with which Shakespeare editions are created helps them see beyond the plays themselves, and into the larger context of Shakespeare studies. Using Othello as a key example of the role of editors, Patrica Akhimie demonstrates how editorial decisions can transform how a play is interpreted.

Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
Activity
Geraldine Heng

Collaborative student research

A multidisciplinary and student-centered approach for early modern professors, inspired by Geraldine Heng’s Teaching Early Global Literatures and Cultures.

Collaboration is key when researching an early global world. Geraldine Heng notes in her book Teaching Early Global Literatures and Cultures that teaching global literatures and cultures is a practice in humility. No one human can master the spectrum of languages, knowledges, and disciplinary expertise needed for global research. And while this may sound like a hinderance, it is actually a gift. It means that students become your collaborators.  

Heng underscores the importance of student-led research in her classes. Rather than a pedagogical model of knowledge dissemination followed by exams and papers, she asks her students to undertake rigorous, scholarly research based in their interests and curiosities.  

The structure of her classes asks: what if the outcome of a humanities course was not to demonstrate knowledge but to demonstrate process?  

Everyone is a learner. Everyone is a teacher.

At the beginning of the semester, Heng asks her students to keep an eye on topics that interest them and to follow those topics in the assigned readings. She emphasizes that these topics, characterizations, and themes should be close to their hearts. They should be things that students care about in their world today. Topics could include women, climate change or the environment, food, sexuality, modes of travel, race, wealth, art, etc.

Rather than limiting the class to the assigned readings, she lets students explore, ask questions, and seek answers, using not just literary texts, but artifacts, archives, and cultural texts that cross disciplinary categorizations.  

Instead of prioritizing rote knowledge through pop quizzes or exams, she assigns expansive research projects where students dive into their curiosities and passions. These presentations function as a major part of course content. Through presenting students are equally responsible for educating their peers as they are for learning themselves.

Practicing the process of learning

Once a student has chosen a topic to research, they meet with Heng for a one-on-one discussion. In this way, she can help the student refine the scope of their research and expand their access and knowledge of sources. Her role as professor is to support and expand the student’s interest, not evaluate their current knowledge. By pointing students to connections or recommending areas of focus within their project area, students can practice researching skills led by the pleasure of their own curiosity.

Sharing research and knowledge

Students will naturally have accrued a rich, comparative understanding of their topic over the duration of the course. They’ll see how that concern or question plays out in cultures and societies around the world and across centuries.  

At the end of the semester, students present their research to the class and turn in a paper on their research topic.  

Heng limits instructions to practical considerations: how long a presentation should be and formatting details for the end-of-term paper. She does not force a particular structure or prompting onto the students’ work. The rest of the research process develops organically through conversations between the professor and individual students and is entirely led by student interest and investigation.

Throughout the semester students have practiced, knowingly or not, what makes academic research satisfying. Students locate themselves in the context of the subject at hand, following the threads that speak most to them, and draw on a multiplicity of sources across disciplines to support their curiosity. This is a process that can be applied across the rest of their college career, and hopefully beyond.

Exemplar student research topics

These topics represent successful and compelling student research projects in Heng’s Early Global Literatures and Cultures course. Each topic is expected to cover “around the world,” meaning that, for their presentations, students pick 3-4 societies and cultures for comparison and analysis. For example, if a student wanted to research premodern medical systems, they would present on comparative systems in China, India, and Islamicate societies.  

  • Agriculture, horticulture (including gardens and leisure environments  
  • Alcoholic beverages  
  • Birth rituals and customs, death rituals and customs, funerary practices  
  • Childrearing  
  • Cooking, foods, spices (e.g., a recent collaborative research paper was on cuisine and food in the Mediterranean, narrated through the travels of a captain and his ship around the northern, eastern, and southern Mediterranean)  
  • Folklore, mythology, or supernatural/magical beings (one collaborative research paper on Southeast Asian mythology was so excellent, it bettered graduate term papers, and was nearly publishable)
  • Games (e.g. chess/board games, but also sports and ball games)  
  • Hostelries, “hotels,” accommodation  
  • How time is told around the world (including the invention of clocks)  
  • Medical systems (including hospitals, hospices, medicine, treatments, medical education, therapeutic measures like acupuncture or music)  
  • Maps and mapping, cartography in different cultures  
  • Musical instruments, music, musicians, dance (e.g., Mongolian throat singing, Malian griots, Indian Bharatanatyam; a recent collaborative term paper focused on object biography, in the form of a musical rattle that was fashioned in Mali and made its way around the many cultures and peoples of Trans-Saharan Africa)  
  • Pets  
  • Pottery and ceramics  
  • Religious architecture  
  • Science and technology (including optics like spectacles, instruments of calculation like the abacus, automata like metallic singing birds, etc.)  
  • Ships and navigation  
  • Sweets and confectionery (including chocolate, ice cream, sherbet, cakes, cookies)  
  • Textiles, “fashion,” clothing, silk, wool, cotton, linen, flax, fabrics, carpets, etc. 
  • Theater and drama (including puppetry, dolls, dance drama, etc.)  
  • Weapons of offense and defense  

Early Modern
Literature
Transnational studies
Video
Geraldine Heng

Premodern race as a critical canon

Heng offers insight on approaches to teaching the traditional, canonized literature of premodern Europe through the lens of premodern critical race studies.

Students of color make up half to two-thirds of my classes today, and race impacts them and their families in many ways. White supremacists, for instance, target ethnoracial minorities with hate, and federal and state governments harass non- white communities with punitive legislation and witch-hunts. Studying the premodern history of race helps students understand the mechanisms of racism and race-making in the longue durée—mechanisms that have been adapted, revitalized, and reissued across time. We read conceptual texts that grant us tools to analyze literature and culture, and premodern texts that form part of the archive of racial history. We work back and forth between the past and the present to understand racial logics, racial targets, and racial purposes. My students thus learn that studying the past helps us to understand and calibrate the present with greater precision. I begin by asking a question: When did you first become aware of race? In student responses, we quickly learn that race is not limited to biology, skin color, bodily phenotype, or DNA. Some will tell us about racism encountered because of their religion. Those who were bullied in school because English wasn’t their first language, or mocked for what was in their lunch box from home, show us cultural mechanisms of race-making. Early in the semester, we read scholarship that provides a lexicon of race and racialization across historical time. We learn of the relationship between race and nationalism, class, gender, sexuality, war, colonialism, immigration, economic interests, religion, and the state. We consider euphemisms for race, like “ethnicity.” We examine pre-critical theories of race, before the onset of critical race theory, and study examples of intersectionality in the deep archives of literature, culture, and history. The premodern texts we read include the Middle English romance, Richard Coer de Lyon, which turns Richard I, the English crusader king, into an aggressive Christian cannibal who eats black Muslim prisoners, in an extended joke about conquest that links nationalism, war, and race. We read the Middle English The King of Tars, which promotes a view of Christians as white folk, and Muslim enemies as black and loathly, a view stabilizes the connective tissue of color, race, and religion. The Middle Dutch romance Moriaen imagines a bridge across differences of skin-color by hypothesizing the class solidarity of elite Christian men known as knights as an international fraternity. In the end, however, this story of assimilation, racial acceptance, and respectability, still has the Black, foreign knight, Moriaen, depart Arthurian Europe forever. Ritual murder stories feature malignant Jews viciously slaughtering little Christian boys. These texts show us how Christian nationalism works to unite England, a land with deep internal divides of social class, language, and place, by targeting Jews as the domestic infidel. Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Prioress’s Tale even invents a genetic racial hypothesis: that Christians are born, not made—“icomen of Cristen blode”, as this Canterbury Tale puts it. I tell students that England was the first racial state in the West. It was the place where the ritual murder libel began, before spreading across Europe and, later, to the United States. I point to the array of state apparatuses invented for the surveillance and control of English Jews, and how England was the first country in Europe to begin the expulsion of Jews, in 1290. Looking beyond continental Europe and the Mediterranean, students read The Greenlanders’ Saga and The Saga of Eirik the Red, about would-be settler-colonists in North America, around the year 1000, who cheat the local indigenous populations in trade, are ignominiously routed by Native Americans, and abort their settlements. This was half a millennium before Columbus stepped foot in the Americas. John of Plano Carpini’s History of the Mongols and Marco Polo’s Description of the World bookend the process by which an unknown race of Mongols, at first demonized as bestial, savage, and subhuman, become admired and courted, once they acquire the vast wealth and resources of China. Through all this, my students track the mechanisms that drive racialization in the deep past and today, mechanisms that repeat, but always with differences, and never identically as before. Students also contribute importantly to course content, through individual research presentations, and group research papers on topics of their interest, their choice, and their design. Because students are free to research race across all historical time, and in any part of the world, following their curiosity and passion, extraordinary presentations and term papers often result. My classes on race end like they begin: with a question. In Texas, where I live and work, race is part of a nexus of issues under near-constant scrutiny and attack from the state government. So, I ask the class at the end of the semester: What will you say, if a journalist, a politician, or simply a stranger, asks you why you study race?

Geraldine Heng is an influential, field-crossing scholar and one of the founding theorists of premodern critical race studies. Her classes on premodern European literature offer a critical understanding of the histories of race-making, all while supporting students to conduct interdisciplinary research that interrogates the social and cultural mechanisms of race in their everyday lives. Here, Heng offers a glimpse into the texts she teaches and her collaborative approach to student assignments. She identifies a new path forward for premodern European literature—one that is a provocation for our world today.

Early Modern
Literature
Intro to premodern critical race studies
Poetry
Video
Geraldine Heng

Teaching early global literatures

Teaching global literatures rooted in the premodern world challenges the fantasies about the past many of our students have inherited.

Geraldine Heng Teaching early global literatures Transcript Teaching early global literatures is a way to challenge white supremacist fantasies about the past. Today, in the West, white supremacists and Christian nationalists promote a vision of the past where so-called Christian-European values reigned supreme for hundreds of years, while the histories and cultures of the rest of the world are conveniently forgotten or erased. Erasure and forgetting of this kind is pernicious. For instance, a medievalist colleague, Cord J. Whitaker is repeatedly asked, “Where were the Black people in the Middle Ages?” His “well educated” interlocutors, it seems, only know of Africa from slavery and colonialism in the modern era, and not about Africa before the arrival of the West. Given how little people know, teaching the stories and cultures of the early world is thus an act of epistemological and ethical commitment. For students whose ancestry, family origins, or childhoods were rooted in Africa, the Middle East, Asia, Latin America, Pacifica, and elsewhere, a global literature class is an important way to encounter their countries of origin before the arrival of European colonialism and imperialism in the modern eras. Students learn that history does not begin when Europe arrives. Early global literatures show thriving civilizations in dynamic interchange across continents and oceans, with Latin Christendom never being noticed at all. The sheer diversity of global texts, lives, cultures, cities, treasures, arts, technologies, trade, and networks in a thriving premodern world is eye- opening for students. Meanwhile, a Christendom-that-will-become-Europe was little more than a backwater for a millennium. London had 100,000 people and Paris 200,000 at a time when Cairo had three-quarters of a million. China’s immense metropoles had well over a million lives. For students, this is an important shift in their understanding of the past, so that responsible recoveries of knowledge can begin. 9th-century China was already mass-producing ceramics for export to the world a thousand years before the West. 11th-century China’s iron and steel industries burnt roughly 70% of the amount of coal that Britain’s did in their Industrial Revolution of the 18th century. The revelation that there could have been a number of industrial revolutions, rather than a single, unique Industrial Revolution occurring only in the West, and only in modern time, is a mind-altering moment. Students learn that the number zero — without which there can be no computers, no cell phones, or science as we know it — began in 7th-century India. I ask them to imagine doing math today, with Europe’s contribution — Roman numerals — or to try coding without the number zero. When we read the epic of Sundiata, students learn about the Empire of Mali in West Africa, the source of the gold production on which so much of the hemisphere’s currency depended. They read of glittering global cities like Vijayanagar in India, where extraordinary architecture, exquisite art, magnificent festivals, and sex workers who are protected by the police astonish a visiting diplomat. They learn about trade routes and mercantile activities in Abu Zayd al-Sirafi’s Accounts of India and China. In the Malay Annals, an epic of island Southeast Asia, they learn of the lives of sea peoples for whom oceans and seas are pathways, not obstacles. This epic tracks the connective tissue between the Malay islands and India, the Middle East, and the Mediterranean, across a bustling, dynamic world. We follow many themes and focal issues through the semester. Students track how premodern slavery differs from slavery in later eras. They consider similarities and differences in the treatment of women, children, the old, and animals of many kinds. They see how treasure and wealth take different forms in a multiplicity of locales — how cloth becomes currency, or grapevines a source of wealth. They trace funerary rituals, they map cities, and they consider varieties of music, tools, weapons, art, architecture, medicine, herbs, agriculture, animals, foods, festivals, clothing, manners, landscapes, beliefs, lifeways, even the different meanings of cardinal points in different societies. By the end of the semester, no student notices that Europe is never mentioned at all.

History is understood through narrative. The stories that are written, repeated, and taught give shape to the past. By decentering European narratives in our teaching, we can expand the scope of historical understanding that our students carry with them into the world. Studying early global literatures shakes the preconceived notions about the past that students bring into the classroom, especially when they are introduced to early global civilizations that were far more complex and modern than Europe.

Early Modern
Literature
Transnational studies
Poetry
Reading list
Mayte Green-Mercado

Teaching the refugee experience with graphic texts and video games

These narratives, read and experienced alongside historical texts, can deepen student understanding of today’s refugees fleeing war, violence, conflict, and persecution.

Drawn from historian Mayte Green-Mercado’s courses, the resources here offer contemporary chronicles of refugee stories. Green-Mercado’s goal is to provide students expanded ways to think historically and critically about issues related to migrants, refugees, and displacements in the Mediterranean. Today’s graphic texts and video games offer visually charged versions of diasporic literature centered on identity, exile, and belonging. These narratives, read and experienced alongside historical texts, can deepen student understanding and, perhaps, empathy to refugees fleeing war, violence, conflict, and persecution today.

Graphic novels and memoirs written by refugees about the refugee experience

In assigning and discussing graphic novels and memoirs, Mayte Green-Mercado leans into questions of authority and perspective, highlighting whose story is being told, and what evidence readers have for trusting a particular point of view. For instance, Green-Mercado assigns excerpts from Aivali Solúp’s A Story of Greeks and Turks in 1922, which narrates Solúp’s grandfather’s story when Orthodox Greeks became refugees from Turkey, and the narrative of “the catastrophe” unfolds from that viewpoint.

In combining art and storytelling, graphic works can create an emotional recognition of the humanity of refugees. Graphic novels and memoirs often depict politically marginalized refugee families through the eyes of children who contend with parental powerlessness, or worrisome decision-making. Students can pay new attention to depictions of everyday moments—the mundane routines of cooking, going to work, or bickering with siblings—set against horrific historical moments of violence or unsettling community fear.  

Recommended graphic novels and memoirs

Cover of Leila Abdelrazaq's Baddawi, featuring black and white mosaic patterns and an illustration of a child facing a black background.
Cover of Leila Abdelrazaq's Baddawi

Abdelrazaq, Leila. Baddawi. Washington, DC: Just World Books, 2015.

The author retells the stories of her father, a Palestinian growing up in a Lebanese refugee camp in the 1960s. His illustrated anecdotes combine playground games and adolescent crushes with military raids and acts of rebellion. The author uses Palestinian embroidery, tatreez, as a visual motif she chooses as resistance to cultural appropriation of the traditional craft.

Bui, Thi. The Best We Could Do: An Illustrated Memoir. New York, NY: Abrams Comicarts, 2017.

This graphic memoir depicts the fall of South Vietnam in the 1970s as experienced by author Thi Bui’s family and their escape and migration to the US. Bui’s narrative alternates between the US-Vietnam war as experienced by her parents and her life years later. In the context of loss and displacement, Bui reflects on the impact on community and culture as well as parental sacrifice and the family histories she has inherited.

Jamieson, Victoria and Omar Mohamed. When Stars Are Scattered. Solon, OH: Findaway World, 2023.  

Omar Mohamed spent his childhood in the Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya. In collaboration with children’s author/artist Victoria Jamieson, this graphic memoir recounts his violent displacement from home in Somalia and the loss of his family except for his brother Hassan, who is epileptic and nonverbal. In the camp there is never enough food, with no access to medical care, and the narrative focuses on the consequences of extreme poverty. The title references children in a refugee camp who are denied education and opportunities to realize their potential as human beings.  

Page of Aivali Soloúp's Aivali: A Story of Greeks and Turks in 1922

Soloúp, Aivali. Aivali: A Story of Greeks and Turks in 1922. Trans. Tom Papademetriou. Boston, MA: Somerset Hall Press, 2019.

This graphic novel depicts Solúp’s grandfather’s experience of “the catastrophe” for Greeks: their defeat in the 1922 Greco-Turkish War and the resulting violence and displacement. In these events, Orthodox Greeks became refugees as more than a million people were displaced because of a negotiated population exchange.

Sulaiman, Hamid. Freedom Hospital: A Syrian story. Translated by Francesca Barrie. New York, NY: Interlink Publishing, 2018.

Written and illustrated by an author who escaped Syria after the Arab Spring, this graphic novel portrays a secret hospital that physicians, patients, and friends keep functioning while evading the Assad-backed army and its daily death toll. While based on true events, this work focuses on the nature of war and the consequences of cycles of suffering and retaliation.

Video games written by refugees about the refugee experience

While graphic novels and memoirs amplify refugee voices and experiences, video games written by and for refugees viscerally depict challenges and illustrate resilience. Mayte Green-Mercado encourages students to appreciate as well as interrogate how the refugee perspectives are portrayed. Green-Mercado points students to news releases and research studies that suggest the value in virtual experiences of expulsion and escape, sometimes seen to benefit refugees themselves.  

Screenshot of a scene in Path Out

Path Out

Path Out was designed by Jack Gutmann, who was brought up in Hama, Syria. Gutmann and four brothers were raised by parents who sought to keep them safe from war by keeping them inside and gaming. His game Path Out puts students in the virtual shoes of refugees who are trying to get to safety and must make decisions to avoid hazards and stay alive.  

Salaam

Lual Mayen’s family escaped South Sudan and survived the journey to a refugee camp in Northern Uganda where they lived for 22 years. Mayen, a game designer now in Washington DC, founded Junub Games. Salaam (Arabic for “peace”) was release in 2020 and engages players in the role of refugees seeking to escape violence and capture and find food, water, medicine, and safety. Through a partnership with UNHCR, players also can contribute financial support to actual refugees in camps.

Gaming supports refugees’ wellbeing

A video game consultant and officer for digital innovation in the UNHCR lead a project where they co-create video games with refugees. They create spaces and events where diverse refugee audiences can play games and experience “digital leisure time” that enables them to recuperate from traumatic experiences and connect with distant families and home communities. The researchers intend to support refugees as game designers to encourage self-expression about their communities.

Medieval
History
Transnational studies
Syllabus
Mayte Green-Mercado

Race in the premodern world

In this class, Mayte Green-Mercado guides students through premodern origins of the construction of race and the consequences it carries today.

Race in the premodern world

(Created for the fall semester of 2022)

In this course, Mayte Green-Mercado asks students to examine the construction of race and ethnicity in the premodern Mediterranean. By understanding how constructions of race developed in the premodern world, students are invited to consider their own ideas about race and ethnicity. How do these ideas connect to the premodern world? How do they play out in our world today? 

Course Objectives 

  • Students will gain a critical understanding of categories such as race, ethnicity, identity, etc. and should be able to question and explore the ways in which these categories were constructed in the premodern world. 
  • Students will develop skills in oral and written communication, including sustained argument, and independent thought. 
  • Students will have ample practice in reading primary sources and employing primary evidence in textual and historical analysis and argumentation.   

Journaling 

For each primary source students will select ONE word in the assigned source (i.e. cast, race, religion, etc.) and write a 500-word journal entry. The entry must analyze what the word means within the context of the source. Students will also reflect on what the terms mean today and to them.  

Course sequence and topics  

Week 1 - Introductions

Week 2 - The social construction of race

Primary source 

Schaub, Jean-Frédéric, Race Is About Politics: Lessons from History, trans. Lara Vergnaud (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2019): 61-121 (Chapter 2: Historiographical Debate). 

Secondary sources 

Heng, Geraldine, The Invention of Race in the European Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018): selections. 

López, Ian F. Haney, “The Social Construction of Race,” in Critical Race Theory: The CuttingEdge, 3rd ed., Jean Stefanic and Richard Delgado (eds.) (Philadelphia: Temple University  Press, 2013): 238-248. 

Documentary 

Strain, Tracey Heather, et al. Race: The Power of an Illusion (San Francisco, CA: California Newsreel, 2003).

Week 3 - Vocabularies and periodization of premodern race 

Primary source 

Heng, Geraldine.The Invention of Race in the European Middle Ages (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018): selections. 

Audio 

Heng, Geraldine, "Defining Race, Periodizing Race," Throughlines. www.throughlines.org/suite-content/defining-race-periodizing-race.  [Accessed 9/1/25].

Secondary sources 

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome, “Race,” in A Handbook of Middle English Studies ed. Marion Turner (Malden, MA, 2013): 109–22. 

Chaves, María Eugenia, “Race and Caste: Other Words and Other Worlds,” in Race and Blood in the Iberian World, ed. María Elena Martínez, Max. S. Hering Torres, David Nirenberg (Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2012): 39-58.   

Week 4 - Statutes of purity of blood  

Primary source 

Wolf, Kenneth B., “Sentencia-Estatuto de Toledo, 1449,” Medieval Texts in Translation, 2008. 

Secondary sources 

Martínez, María Elena, Genealogical Fictions (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2008): 25-41.  

Hering Torres, Max S., “Purity of Blood: Problems of Interpretation,” in Race and Blood in the Iberian World, eds. María Elena Martínez, Max. S. Hering Torres, David Nirenberg (Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2012): 11-38.   

Week 5 - Race and religion in medieval and early modern Spain  

Primary sources 

Muley, Nuñez, A Memorandum for the President of the Royal Audiencia and Chancery of the City and Kingdom of Granada, ed. Vincent Barletta (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007): 55-64; 68-73; 90-99. 

“Renegade Jew: Luis de la Ysla,” in Inquisitorial Inquiries: Brief Lives of Secret Jews and Other Heretics, eds. Richard Kagan and Abigail Dyer (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2004): 21-35. 

Secondary source 

Amelang, James, Parallel Histories: Muslims and Jews in Inquisitorial Spain (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2013): 26-40; 69-79; 83-97.   

Week 6 - Orientalism: Muslims in the early modern European imaginary  

Primary source 

de Cervantes, Miguel, “The Bagnios of Algiers,” in The Bagnios of Algiers, and “The Great Sultana": Two Plays of Captivity, eds. and trans. Barbara Fuchs and Aaron J. Ilika (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010): 2-98.  

Secondary source 

Vitkus, Daniel J., “Early Modern Orientalism: Representations of Islam in Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century Europe,” in Western Views of Islam in Medieval and Early ModernEurope, ed. David R. Blanks and Michael Frassetto (New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 1999): 207-230.   

Week 7 - Race or ethnicity in early modern Spain: The Romani

Primary source  

de Cervantes, Miguel, “The Novel of the Little Gypsy Girl,” in Exemplary Novels, trans. Edith Grossman (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2016): 11-68. 

Secondary source 

Eliav-Feldon, Miriam, “Vagrants or vermin? Attitudes towards Gypsies in early modern Europe,” in The Origins of Racism in the West, eds. Miriam Eliav Feldon, Benjamin Isaac, and Joseph Ziegler (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009): 276-291. 

Week 8 - The curse of Ham in Christian and Islamic discourse

Video 

El Hamel, Chouki, "What is the 'curse' of Ham?" Throughlines. www.throughlines.org/suite-content/what-is-the-curse-of-ham. [Accessed 9/1/24]. 

Secondary sources 

El Hamel, Chouki, "Race-making and the myth of Ham," Throughlines.  www.throughlines.org/suite-content/race-making-and-the-myth-of-ham. [Accessed 9/1/24]. 

Bashir, Haroon, “Black Excellence and the Curse of Ham: Debating Race and Slavery in the Islamic Tradition,” ReOrient 5/1 (2019): 92–116. 

Week 9 - African diasporas in early modern Europe

Video

Whitaker, Cord J., “Where were the Black people in the Middle Ages?” Throughlines. www.throughlines.org/suite-content/black-people-in-the-middle-ages.  [Accessed 9/1/24]. 

Secondary sources 

Zhang, Angela, “Rethinking ‘Domestic Enemies’: Slavery and Race Formation in Late Medieval Florence,” Speculum 99/2 (2024): 409-431. 

Jones, Nicholas, Staging Habla de Negros. Radical Performances of the African Diaspora inEarly Modern Spain (University Park, Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2019): selections. 

Week 10 - Infrastructures of race in colonial Spanish America 

Primary source 

de Vitoria, Francisco, “On the American Indians” in: Vitoria: Political Writings (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991): selections. 

Video 

Stevens, Scott Manning, "The Doctrine of Discovery," Throughlines. www.throughlines.org/suite-content/the-doctrine-of-discovery. [Accessed 9/1/24]. 

Secondary source 

Nemser, Daniel, Infrastructures of Race: Concentration and Biopolitics in Colonial Mexico (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2017): Chapter 1. 

Week 11 - Race and slavery in colonial Spanish America

Primary source 

de Sandoval, Alonso, “Treatise on Slavery” in De instauranda Aethiopum salute, ed. Nicole Von Germeten (Indianapolis/Cambridge: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc. 2008): selections. 

Podcast 

BBC Podcast In Our Time: “Slavery and Empire”

Secondary source 

Nemser, Daniel, "The Iberian Slave Trade and the Racialization of Freedom," in History of the Present Vol. 8, Issue 2 (2018): 117-139.   

Week 12 - Negotiating identities in colonial Spanish America

Primary source 

Poma de Ayala, Felipe Guamán, The First New Chronicle and Good Government, abridged, trans. David Frye (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc., 2006): 263-277; 231-239. 

Video 

Stevens, Scott Manning, "Indigenous sovereignty," Throughlines. www.throughlines.org/suite-content/indigenous-sovereignty. [Accessed 9/1/24]. 

Secondary source 

Hidalgo, Javiera Jaque and Miguel A. Valerio, “Negotiating Status through Confraternal Practices,” in Indigenous and Black Confraternities in Colonial Latin America: Negotiating Status Through Religious Practices, eds. Javiera Jaque Hidalgo and Miguel A. Valerio (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2022): 9-34. 

Week 13 - Geographies of race  

Primary sources 

Crewe, Ryan Dominic, “A Moluccan Crypto-Muslim before the Transpacific Inquisition (1623–1645),” in The Spanish Pacific, 1521–1815: A Reader of Primary Sources, eds. C.H. Lee and R. Padrón. (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2020): 171-187. 

Souza, George Bryan and Jeffrey S. Turley, eds., The Boxer Codex: transcription and translation of an illustrated late sixteenth-century Spanish manuscript concerning the geography, ethnography and history of the Pacific, South-East Asia and East Asia (Leiden: Brill, 2016): selections. 

Secondary sources 

Davies, Surekha, Renaissance Ethnology and the Invention of the Human: New Worlds, Maps, and Monsters (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016): 23-46. 

Padrón, Ricardo, “Sinophobia vs. Sinophilia in the 16th Century Iberian World,” Review of Culture (Instituto Cultural do Governo R.A.E. de Macau, 22014) 46: 95-107. 

Week 14 - Casta paintings 

Secondary source 

Carrera, Magali, Imagining Identity in New Spain: Race, Lineage, and the Colonial Body in Portraiture and Casta Paintings (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2003): chapter 1. 

Medieval
History
Transnational studies
Intro to premodern critical race studies
Religion
Syllabus
Mayte Green-Mercado

Mediterranean crossings

Mayte Green-Mercado's syllabus demonstrates the history of the Mediterranean as a unique hub of geographic and cultural exchange.

Mediterranean crossings:  refugees, migration, and displacements (1492-today) 

(Created for the fall semester of 2022)

Scholars often characterize the Mediterranean Sea as a multicultural space of encounter, competition, and exchange. It is widely taught that the Mediterranean’s geographic placement affords it a significant degree of unity even amidst its racial and religious diversity. But there is another facet to this history that is missing from the narrative.  

This course aims to understand how human displacements in the premodern Mediterranean contribute to the narrative of a diverse, united Iberian Peninsula. In addition, we will use this history as a lens to study the phenomenon of human displacements more widely.  

This course focuses on the expulsion of religious minorities like Jews and Muslims, accounts of captivity and slavery, histories of European colonization and decolonization in North Africa, the rise of the nation state, and population exchanges.  Students will also study how modern wars, climate change, and economic instability and inequality have set off an unprecedented mass scale of contemporary population displacements.    

Learning objectives 

Upon successful completion of this course, students will be able to: 

  • Demonstrate a basic level of competence in differentiating between periods in the history of the Mediterranean and articulating the significance of historical context. 
  • Grasp how and why migrations have differed in time and space. 
  • Read scholarship critically. 
  • Read and analyze primary sources. 
  • Interrogate maps as historical artifacts. 
  • Think historically and critically about issues related to migrants, refugees, and displacements in the Mediterranean. 
  • Learn to use digital tools for producing knowledge (such as historical and interactive maps of displacement in the Mediterranean). 

Required texts

Lalami, Laila. Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits (New York & Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books, 2005). 

Pearlman, Wendy. We Crossed a Bridge and it Trembled (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2018). 

All other required readings will be online reading/viewing or supplied by PDF. 

Course schedule

Week 1 - Introduction and organization 

Week 2 - The Mediterranean: geographies, chronologies, boundaries 

Calvino, Italo, “On reading a wave” in Mr. Palomar, trans. by William Weaver (San Diego: Helen and Kurt Wolff Book, 1983): 3-8.   

Diaz, Clarisa, “Where Afghan—and all other—refugees are going,” Quartz, 8/31/21 .

Film (in class) 

4.1 Miles, Daphne Matziaraki 

“In the Oscar-nominated short film 4.1 Miles, Daphne Matziaraki follows a day in the life of Kyriakos Papadopoulos, a captain in the Greek coast guard who is caught in the middle of the refugee crisis in which Europe is embroiled. Despite limited resources, the captain and his crew attempt to save thousands of migrants from drowning in the Aegean Sea. Nominated, 2017 Academy Award for Best Documentary Short Subject.”

Secondary sources 

Chatty, Dawn, “Dispossession and Displacement within the Contemporary Middle East: An Overview of Theories and Concepts,” in Displacement and Dispossession in the Modern Middle East (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 

Pessani, Lorenzo, “Liquid Violence: Investigations of boundaries at sea by Forensic Oceanography,” The Architectural Review, 4/10/19. 

Optional podcast 

Roundtable on Narrating Migration: Emerging Methods and Cross-Disciplinary DirectionsOttoman History Podcast, No. 436 (11/24/2019). 

Unit I - The early modern Mediterranean

Week 3 - Expulsions and the creation of diasporas: Jews and Moriscos 

Primary sources 

“Charter of the Expulsion of the Jews,” trans. Edward Peters, in Medieval Iberia, ed. Olivia Remie Constable, second edition (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2012): 508-513. 

“Jewish Account of the Expulsion,” in Medieval Iberia, trans. Jacob R. Marcus: 513-516. 

“Royal Edict of the Muslim Expulsion, 1502,” in Medieval Iberia, trans. Dayle Seidenspinner-Nuñez: 535-539. 

Philip III, “Decree of the Expulsion of the Moriscos,” in Early Modern Spain: A Documentary History, ed. Jon Cowans (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2003): 145-148. 

Secondary sources 

Ray, Johnathan, “The Long Road into Exile,” in After Expulsion, 1492 and the Making of a Sephardic Diaspora (New York: New York University Press, 2013). 

Feros, Antonio, “Rhetoric of the Expulsion,” in The Expulsion of the Moriscos from Spain: A Mediterranean Diaspora, ed. Mercedes García Arenal and Gerard Wiegers (Leiden: Brill, 2014): 60-101.   

Week 4 - Slavery and captivity in the premodern Mediterranean 

Virtual visit by Prof. Hannah Barker (Arizona State University).

Virtual visit by Prof. Daniel Hershenzon (University of Connecticut).

Secondary sources 

Barker, Hannah, The Most Precious Merchandise. The Mediterranean Trade in Black Sea Slaves, 1260-1500 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2019): selections.

Unit II - The modern Mediterranean

Week 5 - Disease and displacement 

Virtual visit by Prof. Nukhet Varlik (Rutgers University-Newark).

Secondary source 

Robarts, Andrew, “Nowhere to Run To, Nowhere to Hide? Society, State, and Epidemic Diseases in the Early Nineteenth Century Ottoman Balkans,” in Plague and Contagion in the Islamic Mediterranean (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015). 

Week 6 - Migration in the Ottoman Empire 

Virtual visit by Prof. Leyla Amzi-Erdogdular (Rutgers University-Newark).

Secondary source 

Chatty, Dawn, “Dispossession and Forced Migration in the Late Ottoman Empire: Distinct Cultures and Separated Communities,” in Displacement and Dispossession in the Modern Middle East (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).  

Week 7 - Forced population transfers, membership and belonging 

Virtual visit by Prof. Joseph Viscomi (University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill).

Primary source 

Convention Concerning the Exchange of Greek and Turkish Populations signed at Lausanne

Documentary 

Aljazeera, “The Great Population Exchange Between Turkey and Greece,” 2/28/18. 

Secondary sources 

Shields, Sarah, "The Greek-Turkish Population Exchange: Internationally Administered Ethnic Cleansing," Middle East Report 267 (2013): 2-6. 

Nail, Thomas, “Introduction” and “The Figure of the Migrant,” in The Figure of the Migrant (Stanford University Press, 2015): 1-17. 

Bosma, Ulber, Gijs Kessler, and Leo Lucassen, “Migration and Membership Regimes in Global and Historical Perspective: An Introduction,” in Migration and Membership Regimes in Global and Historical Perspective: An Introduction, eds. Ulber Bosma, Gijs Kessler and Leo Lucassen (Brill, 2013): 1-20. 

Graphic novel 

Solúp, Aivali. A Story of Greeks and Turks in 1922, trans. Tom Papademetriou (Boston: Somerset Hall Press, 2019): selections. 

Film 

Dedemin Insanları (My Grandfather’s People), Dir. Çagan Irmak, 2011.   

Week 8 - The colonial Mediterranean  

Primary sources 

Clancy-Smith, Julia and Charles D. Smith, eds., “Algeria: French Colonization and the Algerian Response,” in The Modern Middle East and North Africa: A History in Documents (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014): 29-32. 

Secondary sources 

Manuel, Borutta and Sakis Gekas, “A Colonial Sea: the Mediterranean, 1798-1956,” European Review of History - Revue européenne d'histoire, 19/1 (2012): 1-13. 

Blais, Hélène, “The Mediterranean. A Territory Between France and Colonial Algeria: Imperial Constructions,” European Review of History 19/1 (2012): 33-57. 

Podcast 

Ottoman History Podcast, France and Algeria: Origins and Legacies (episode 409, 4/7/19).  

Week 9 - Migration and displacement after the two world wars 

Primary sources 

Arendt, Hannah, “We Refugees."

UNHCR, The Refugee Convention, 1951: excerpts.

Secondary sources 

Gatrell, Peter, "Trajectories of Population Displacement in the Aftermaths of Two World Wars," in The Disentanglement of Populations: Migration, Expulsion and Displacement in Postwar Europe, eds. J. Reinisch & E. White, 1944-49 (London, 2011): 3-26.

Eley, Geoff, “A Disorder of Peoples: The Uncertain Ground of Reconstruction in 1945,” in The Disentanglement of Populations: Migration, Expulsion and Displacement in Postwar Europe, 1944-49 (London, 2011): 291-314. 

Week 10 - Decolonization and repatriation in the 20th Century 

Secondary sources 

Ballinger, Pamela, “Entangled or ‘Extruded’ Histories? Displacement, National Refugees, and Repatriation after the Second World War,” Journal of Refugee Studies 25/3 (2012): 366-386. 

Viscomi, Joseph John, “Pontremoli’s cry: Personhood, Scale, and History in the Eastern Mediterranean,” History and Anthropology (2019). 

Week 11 - Postcolonial migrations and the multicultural Mediterranean 

Primary sources

“Les Pieds Noirs,” The New Yorker, 11/18/1972. 

‘Oranîmes’ - Susan Slyomovics’ interview with Pierre Claverie.

Secondary sources 

Jordi, Jean-Jacques, “The Creation of the Pieds-Noirs: Arrival and Settlement in Marseilles,” in Europe’s Invisible Migrants, ed. Andrea L. Smith (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2003): 61-74. 

Cooper, Frederick, “Postcolonial Peoples: A Commentary,” in Europe’s Invisible Migrants, ed. Andrea L. Smith (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2003): 169-184. 

Week 12 - Childhood and dispossession: Palestine 

Secondary sources 

Chatty, Dawn and Gillian Lewando Hundt, eds., Children of Palestine. Experiencing Forced Migration in the Middle East (New York and Oxford: Berghahn, 2005): Introduction, chapter 2, and chapter 6.   

Week 13 - “Burning the Sea”: North African migrants in the Mediterranean   

Reading 

Lalami, Laila, Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits (New York & Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books, 2005). 

Video reports 

Aljazeera, Spain-Morocco migrants hope to leave Ceuta for European mainland, 5/23/21. 

Aljazeera, “Hundreds of children stranded at Spanish enclave of Ceuta,” 5/20/21. 

Secondary source 

Ciucci, Alessandra, “Performing l-ḥrig: music, sound and undocumented migration across the contemporary Mediterranean (Morocco–Italy),” Journal of North African Studies (August, 2019). 

Week 14 - War and displacement in the contemporary Mediterranean 

Secondary source 

Pearlman, Wendy, We Crossed a Bridge and it Trembled (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2018). 

Film

Cassel, Matthew and Aboud Shalhoub, “The Journey from Syria” (2016).   

Medieval
History
Transnational studies
Religion
Video
Mayte Green-Mercado

Reframing the refugee narrative

Mayte Green-Mercado teaches her students to interrogate the histories of global migration and displacement to study the narratives of refugees in our present moment.

On either side of the Atlantic, the stories told about migrants, refugees, and asylum seekers are almost the same. They are leaving their dangerous tyrannical countries in the global south and seeking greener pastures in the advanced and civilized West. They are outsiders. They're unproductive to society and suck away the resources from existing citizens. This strategic narrative positions the West as the burden carrier for the Globe's displaced peoples. This narrative is problematic for two reasons. One, it perpetuates the assumption that the global South exports refugees, but that Europe has never sent immigrants and refugees to other places. And two, it deliberately obscures more recent histories of European imperialism and colonialism, which includes geopolitical events in which Europe and the US were directly or indirectly involved. Where did this narrative come from? And why does it have so much power today? The concept of refugee first emerged as a legal category after World War ll, when the 1951 Refugee Convention outlined the definition and protections in Article One to include those who feared persecution "for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion." They are stateless persons or persons who are unable to return to their homes. But the term has an older currency. In the 16th century, the Edict of Nantes, a decree that granted freedom of religion in France, was revoked by the king. As a result, thousands of Protestant Huguenots fled France for England. This wave of mass displacement was called "The Great Refuge" and helped solidify the construction of refugee as we understand the term today. Although the term refugee was not used before this moment, studying the more distant pasts of the Mediterranean can help students rethink the social and political environments that have historically produced population displacements. The most well-known early mass displacements of people across the Mediterranean are the expulsion of Jews from the Iberian Peninsula in 1492, and the banishment of Moriscos in 1609. Displacement narratives are not only about why people leave their homelands but also tell the stories of where stateless peoples go, and how they are received. In my courses, my students learn to be sensitive to continuities and ruptures in the framing of the refugee narrative. I ask them to put aside whatever understandings of refugee experiences they brought with them. Instead, I ask them to identify and interrogate framings like Europe's Refugee Crisis. How are these narratives being constructed in the texts we are reading? How are these texts both contributing to that construction or refuting it? I want my students to be alert to and critical of framings that create South/North binaries, one where Europe appears as a passive and "benevolent" recipient of refugees and migrants. It is important to understand that these histories, much like our present moment, are far more complicated than the narratives we are given by the media, by politicians, and often in our education systems. When I teach early modern accounts of displacement and migration, I pair them with contemporary works created by refugees about the refugee experience, including graphic novels and video games. One early modern account I assign is about the journey of an exiled Morisco. Ahmed Al-Hajari was sent as an emissary of the Moroccan Sultan around Europe, where he visited Paris and the Low Countries. By reflecting on his own life, by way of introduction, he described his hijra, or immigration from the Iberian Peninsula, in the following way: "One of the blessings that Exalted God bestowed upon me was that He made me a Muslim in the land of infidels... God had created in my heart a longing to leave the lands of al-Andalus in order to emigrate to the Exalted God and His messenger and to enter the land of Muslims. God realized [this] purpose and [fulfilled this] wish and brought me to the City of Marrakesh, in Morocco. For al-Hajari, the expulsion had been an act of God, and it was understood as a liberation from captivity, Other accounts of Moriscos in exile mirror this providentialist belief. The only way for these Moriscos to make sense of the catastrophe that had befallen their community was to see the expulsion as a merciful act of God. These readings often surprise my students and offer them new ways to see around the contemporary "refugee narrative" of desperation and then salvation by western civilization. Like people today, the circumstances that led to the displacement of the people of medieval and early modern Iberia were complicated, and their accounts of exile do not line up with the clean-cut stereotypes about refugees today. To emphasize the contrast, I assign a variety of contemporary sources. One is the RPG video game Path Out, created by Jack Gutmann, formerly known as Abdullah Karam. In 2014, Jack fled his home of Hama, Syria's fourth largest city, and eventually carved out a new life for himself in Austria. He teamed up with a video game agency and created Path Out which follows the dangerous journey he undertook in leaving Syria. Abdullah himself is the protagonist of the game, and as the player you are re-living his experience. Every so often, as you control the animated Abdullah, the real-life Abdullah will appear in a pop-up and talk to the player directly. If the player bumps into an explosive or makes any other mistake, Abdullah will intervene. The game can't replicate the real experience of people fleeing their home countries, but it does offer students a more nuanced view of the refugee experience, one that is humanized and in direct opposition to the dangerous outsider narratives. False narrative framings in our culture have consequences. In a New York Times/ Siena College poll conducted in October 2024, the number of surveyed voters who supported decreased immigration increased from 22% in 2020 to 55%. This included a large number of historically Democratic voters. The narratives about immigrants and refugees that became a major part of this election cycle frame asylum seekers as dangerous and as a burden the West must bear economically. They disregard the experiences and true accounts of refugees in favor of spinning a tale of economic advancement for the people of the global south at the expense of the "hard-working" Americans and Europeans. I want my students to understand how these false narratives and divisive framings have power, and I want to offer them opportunities to see outside of that narrow scope. By bringing sources from both the premodern past and our contemporary moment into the classroom, I invite my students to challenge present framings of refugees, migration, displacement, and its current implications for Europe and the United States. We must understand these deeper historical perspectives to identify how their reverberations in the present reveal new systems of domination, racism and exclusion.

The contemporary rhetoric around refugees and asylum seekers is one of vitriol and villainization. These narratives have social and political consequences, influencing elections and legislation around the globe. But how did we get to these assumptions and tropes that continue to scapegoat people affected by mass displacement? By understanding the construction of the concept “refugee,” students can trace a lineage of racialization and oppression back to the medieval Mediterranean. Green-Mercado asks her students to complicate the political script of migration and displacement by reading and playing narratives outside of the tropes handed down through time.

Medieval
History
Transnational studies
Religion
Video
Mayte Green-Mercado

Race-making and the preservation of power

The history of racial and religious caste in Spain echoes through contemporary far-right political parties

In October of 2022, the Spanish far-right political party Vox produced a feature length film for VIVA22, a rally for the party's parliamentary campaign. The film promoted the president of Vox, Santiago Abascal, by linking his campaign to the histories of Spanish Christian "glory." Appropriating The Princess Bride, the film begins with an abuelo reading an old, old book to his grandson about "the history of Spain, the history we made together," [Spanish narration from Vox film:] English subtitles: "Everything begins at the beginning of the 8th century in the battle of Covadonga, when the Christian troops of Don Pelayo defeated the Arab invaders. Spain was a land that the peoples of the Mediterranean, those of North Africa and the Germans, wanted to conquer. And then came the cross—Christian faith. The people of Northern Spain became Christians. And in the Battle of Covadonga they fought the Muslims under one symbol: The Victory Cross. It took eight centuries to throw them out: eight centuries of great noblemen, knights, kings, wise men, warriors, including Don Pelayo, El Cid, Jaime I, and Alfonso IX." Introducing the boy to the great heroes of Spain, he offers him an opportunity: “Would you like to meet them?" The boy then hops out of bed and joins the grandfather at the main stage of Viva22, where he then leads the aforementioned Christian warriors in a charge against Muslim invaders. A LARP of white supremacy, leading into the rally speech from Santiago Abascal. This performance connects the mythologized past of Spanish Christian glory directly to the contemporary political movement of Spain's far right. This discourse is not isolated to VIVA22 and is in fact at the center of political discourse for books and far right parties throughout Europe. Don Pelayo, Ferdinand and Isabella, and the other Christian heroes mythologized by the far right are the same leaders who fought against Muslims in medieval Iberia, expelled Jews in 1492, and forced Muslims to convert to Catholicism. In my classroom we closely examine these histories not only to understand present claims about the past, but as tools to counter them. It is important for students to understand the history of race-making so that they can disentangle themselves from the rhetoric of extremism. The mass conversion of Jews after the 1391 pogroms, and the forced conversion of Muslims beginning in 1501, disrupted the delicate balance of apparent religious tolerance in the Iberian Peninsula. These conversions theoretically opened possibilities for Jews and Muslims to gain positions of power that had up to then been inaccessible. But these new converts were in direct competition with established Christians. In this context of competition, processes of racialization were intimately tied to the management of religious minorities. My students study the institutions, practices, and vocabularies that defined and measured different degrees of belonging. Terms like rasa, linaje, nacion, and casta were linked to notions of dissent that hark back to the processes of mass conversions. The key categories of exclusionary practices tied moral, religious, and cultural traits to genealogies inherited through blood. The word rasa, a term that entered into common usage in the late 15th century, was originally associated with animal breeding. But by the early 17th century, Sebastian de Covarrubias, the man responsible for an early Spanish dictionary, defined race as, "related to lineage. It is understood as having a negative connotation, such as having some race of Moor or Jew." Race was intimately linked to religion and blood, specifically to Muslim and Jewish blood. Race became a stain in one's ancestry. Covarrubias associated race with the term casta. There could be superior casta and bad casta, which indicated an inferior lineage. Someone with superior casta could trace his or her descent through strictly Christian lines, or in the vocabulary of that time, an Old Christian. A bad casta, on the other hand, was a lineage that was tainted by a Muslim or Jewish ancestor, a New Christian. In this tension between Old and New Christians, racial discrimination became codified in legislation that targeted both Jews and Muslims, and the new social element: converts. The famous Sentencia-Estatuto of Toledo (1449), or statutes of purity of blood, is one of the earliest documents that makes reference to Jewish blood, and it sets the parameters for boundary formation between different "kinds" of Christians. The statute presents the vocabularies of race as a set of binaries that juxtaposed New Christians and the Cristianos viejos lindos (pure or clean Old Christians). The conversos are bad Christians, who by their very nature are "enemies of the said city [of Toledo] and of the Old Christians living in it." This impurity made them "incapable and untrustworthy to hold public or private office in the said city of Toledo, and its lands." New race-making vocabularies and practices responded to Christian anxieties over social control and the preservation of status and power in the post-conversion Iberian world. The glorification of Spain's heroes, the protectors of Christian purity, by the far right in Spain is no coincidence. Much like the mythologized Spaniards of the past, the Santiago Abascals of the world are sowing division by stoking the same anxieties of social control and the preservation of status. Peddling an anti-Muslim, anti-immigration, and white nationalist rhetoric, the far-right movement in Spain touts this past as a paragon of Spanish glory. The idolization of Spanish history is inherently tied to a legacy of racialization and institutionalized racism that persists today.

The language of racialization was tied to religious difference in premodern Spain. After the forced conversion of Muslims and Jews in the 15th century, Spain needed a way to distinguish so-called “new” Christians, or conversos, from “pure” Christians. This division was reified in an early Spanish dictionary from Sebastian de Covarrubias. His definition of words such as "raza" and "casta" reflected the growing system of racial caste across the Iberian Peninsula, and eventually the globe. This rhetoric of racialization, with the assumed superiority of white Christians, lives on in modern day Spain’s far-right political discourse.

Medieval
History
Transnational studies
Religion
Reading list
Ambereen Dadabhoy

Staging Islam and Shakespeare

Ambereen Dadabhoy’s course asks students to investigate how individual, cultural, and political Muslim identity is manufactured in Shakespeare’s canon.

Anti-Muslim racism has been a decades-long project in the US and the West broadly, and it's important for students to think about the representation of Muslims as dangerous and threatening, as aliens and outsiders to Europe and its population.  

Using the frame of Shakespeare, and how many of his plays set in the Mediterranean negate and erase Islam and Muslims, students will investigate how individual, cultural, and political identity is manufactured and reinforced through his canon.  Thinking through these historical representations can help students understand and challenge how these stereotypes travel across time and reappear in our contemporary context.  

Readings 

For this class, each Shakespeare play is paired with secondary sources that offer cultural context or critical readings, exposing the wide-ranging knowledge that early modern English people possessed about Islam, its geographies, and its cultures.   

For brief foundational context

A Very Short Introduction to Islamic History. Adam J. Silverstein. Oxford UP, 2010. 

This text offers students a sufficient, if imperfect, background for understanding early modern Islamic cultures and the vast and diverse cultures that encompass the Islamicate. Silverstein provides context for engaging with the representations of Islam that we find in Shakespeare texts.

  

Suggested pairings

The Merchant of Venice 

"Muslims in Seventeenth-Century England," Matar, Nabil I. Journal of Islamic Studies 8.1 (1997): 63-82. 

Othello

"Two Faced: The Problem of Othello's Visage," Dadabhoy, Ambereen. Othello: The State of Play (2014): 121-47. 

Richard II & Henry V

'''Not Amurath an Amurath Succeeds': Playing Doubles in Shakespeare's Henriad." Richard Hillman.  English Literary Renaissance, 21.2 (1991): 161-189. 

"The Glorious Empire of the Turks, the Present Terrour of the World," Richmond Barbour. Before Orientalism: London's Theatre of the East, 1576-1626. 

Twelfth Night 

"Was Illyria as Mysterious and Foreign as We Think?" Patricia Parker, in The Mysterious and Foreign in Early Modern England (209-34). 

"The Frontiers of Twelfth Night," Su Fang Ng, in Early Modern England and Islamic Worlds (173-96). 

The Tempest

"Carthage and Tunis, The Tempest and Tapestries," Jerry Brotton, in The Tempest and Its Travels (121-130). 

Films

Two films, adaptations of Hamlet (Haider) and Measure for Measure (Rahm), offer students a more contemporary lens through which to think about Shakespeare and Islam. Both films are set in Islamicate societies and use Shakespeare to tell particularly local stories. I assign these films to demonstrate how these cultures have a way of speaking with, to, and through Shakespeare to make his work speak to their realities and worlds. 

Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
Transnational studies
Activity
Ambereen Dadabhoy

Tracing tropes

Ambereen Dadabhoy’s semester-long sequence of assignments aims to support students in their own knowledge production through the interpretations of primary texts.

These assignments, created by Ambereen Dadabhoy, can function as a semester-long sequence of assignments which ask students to engage in close readings to construct strong, thoughtful arguments rooted in their own insights. The sequence starts with a demonstration of close reading, moves into an analysis of a trope’s mobility in time, and ends with an original piece of writing that uses these skills to interrogate a contemporary instance of Orientalism. By the end of the semester, students successfully participate in their own knowledge production and create a methodology to interpret texts and the issues they see in their world today.  

The rhetorical and political service of tropes in Shakespeare 

Assignment 1

Explicit Muslim presence in Shakespeare is almost nil. However, the influence of early modern England’s cultural understanding of Muslim and Arab people is embedded in Shakespeare’s texts. To illuminate these subtextual meanings, we must decode the ways Shakespeare conjures Islam and Muslim tropes in his texts. One example of this is in Shakespeare's use of the word “Turk,” usually in some version of the phrase “turning Turk.” By employing the identity or idea of the “Turk,” Shakespeare is communicating something to his audience—something already legible to early modern English people, requiring little explanation.  

To introduce this assignment, I demonstrate how to trace tropes in class. I ask my students first to use context clues to help them decipher what the word “Turk” is doing or signifying in the passage. Students look for words that imply or clearly state forms of Othering, like demonization or denigration. Then students free associate what “Turk” might mean to the audience and to themselves.  

Once we have a preliminary hypothesis of how “Turk” is being employed in the text, I provide historical material on Turks in early modern England to further consider what the trope might have meant for Shakespeare. We gather data from excerpts from:

We then collectively build an argument about the utility of this trope in the speech or scene.

Following the steps we modeled in class, I ask students to choose another trope or referent, which can be an identity marker, a stage prop, or even a geographical allusion. Students write a 500-700 word argument that offers a claim on what ideological and cultural work this referent (or series of referents) is doing in the play, and how their identified trope relates to the play's larger thematic concerns.  

Through this assignment, students understand the kind of rhetorical and political service these seemingly insignificant tropes are performing in the play and Shakespeare's canon more broadly. This initial writing acts as the foundation for the development of an argument they will explore and articulate throughout the semester.  

Troping Islam

Assignment 2  

In his seminal work, Orientalism, Edward Said identifies the familiar repertoire from which the Orientalist draws and rehearses his knowledge about the Orient. Utilizing the metaphor of the stage, Said writes,  

The idea of representation is a theatrical one: the Orient is the stage on which the whole East is confined. On this stage will appear figures whose role it is to represent the larger whole from which they emanate. The Orient then seems to be, not an unlimited extension beyond the familiar European world, but rather a closed field, a theatrical stage affixed to Europe. … In the depths of this Oriental stage stands a prodigious cultural repertoire whose individual items evoke a fabulously rich world (63). 


In this assignment, students trace Orientalist terms in premodern literature to recognize how Islam is articulated as a concept. Students are asked to identify an Orientalist trope in a medieval text and follow it through two early modern texts.  

Students should identify how and why the trope changes (if it does) according to the shifting political relations of the periods. Their argument must explain what the ideological or cultural purpose in depicting Islam in this way seems to be, and what makes the chosen trope significant.  This assignment allows students to create temporal linkages between texts, tracing the development of a particular trope and its deployment through time. By learning to read through vast swaths of time, students develop the necessary analytical and argumentation skills to take stock of their contemporary worlds.  

21st century Orientalism as trope

Assignment 3

Using the methodologies, research, and analysis employed in the last two assignments, students will exercise their ability to construct a well-researched argument and turn their understanding of the past to deconstruct an issue in their present moment. This short paper assignment requires students to explore the ramifications of the mobilization of Orientalism and make connections between their study of the early modern period and our contemporary moment.  

In this assignment, students find an instance of contemporary Orientalism (within the last five years) and explain why it exemplifies an Orientalist depiction. These instances of Orientalism can be derived from any media the student chooses, including literature, news media, social media, political rhetoric, etc. The paper should discuss the ideological purpose of the chosen depiction and its utility for an identified target audience.  

Students are expected to cite Said and at least one of the primary texts the class has considered. This analysis, much like that of the second assignment, asks students to track the mobility of their chosen trope through time and space. Students should note the differences in the representations and offer an argument to explain shifts in the cultural work that these representations are performing.  

Through this assignment, students can see that Orientalism remains vital to how the West understands itself and constructs the alterity of Muslim difference. These assignments in sequence ask students to construct a well-researched and thoughtful argument in stages, allowing them to exercise the skill of developing an idea to a scholarly analysis.  

Early Modern
Literature
Transnational studies
Video
Ambereen Dadabhoy

Early modern Orientalism

Dadabhoy's course asks students to read  premodern texts to deconstruct enduring fictions about Islam and Muslims across time and place.

<silence> So we start with Orientalism, and then we start with the Middle Ages, because of course, Islam, um, comes into being in the European Middle Ages. Um, and so those are the, those initial moments of European contact with Muslims, with Muslims as a, um, a political power, a religious power, an imperial power that seems to be kind of challenging Christian European hegemony in the Near East and in in other areas like Spain. Iberia, we started with this medieval epic called the King of Tars, uh, which is a very strange poem, but it's a very good poem to think about Islam, to think about the racialization of Islam, to think about how certain tropes about Islamic violence, Islamic lust, Islamic deviancy, all of these things are on display very clearly in this epic. From that, we stay in the Middle Ages for another week or so, and we, um, read Chaucer's Man of Law's Tale, and that kind of reinforces the things that students saw in the King of Tars in a different context where we're moving from Syria to England and then, and then back to the old world. And it sort of shows my students how these ideas are flowing across these different geographies. Um, and that Syria for us right now in the 20th century might seem like it's really far away, um, and war torn and, and all of these other kind of images that they associate with the Middle East, um, but in fact is a geography quite close at hand for Europeans, and really meaningful in terms of religion and culture for Europe, um, in a way that perhaps for us as Americans, it doesn't have the, those same resonances. Uh, but it's also meaningful in terms of Christianity too, right? There's this idea that Christianity is European, but <laugh>, in fact, it is not. Um, we know, right, that Palestine is important in terms of thinking about the history of Christianity, and that Arabia is in fact quite important in terms of, um, how Christianity spread and who is a Christian and who isn't a Christian. Um, and then who is a Muslim and who isn't a Muslim. Um, so we like just jump a few, a century or so <laugh>, and now we're at Othello, but teaching these three texts in order established for my students, a really clear, um, dissemination of certain kinds of tropes. So the idea of, uh, like Muslim men desiring, uh, white Christian women, we see it in the King of Tars. We see it in the Man of Lost Tale, and then we see it again in Othello Muslim male violence. We see it in all of these stories. Um, this kind of the purity of white Christian womanhood, though, all of these things get reinforced and like by reading these stories in close succession, my students are able to kind of see how the, you know, see how the tropes travel. So it's not always the same trope. It's not exactly the same situation, but there's enough resonances to reinforce the kind of dehumanization, um, of Islam and Muslims that all of these texts are engaged in. And obviously, I picked the syllabus. I mean, I chose the text on the syllabus, so it, it, it is deliberate. Um, but I don't think these texts are unusual or aberrations, or I'm like cherry picking things. Um, these texts are pretty representative of certain kinds of ideas. So like, pretty much for then the rest of the course, we kind of, we jump a century every time in our reading. We can talk about those things in class, obviously, but we can also process the images and the tropes that are being used to talk about our current situation through the vehicle of this course, and through the vehicle of, um, Said's insights where, um, we don't, we have the freedom to actually, uh, freely discuss what is harmful and, and to think about how this is not, this is not a new trope. This is not something that, you know, suddenly the media has manufactured, but it has such long staying power, which is why nobody is questioning it, right? Like it is something that in the west has just been an accepted reality of this is how Arabs are, this is how Muslims are. But we are through our investigation over centuries, seeing how this idea of like, well, this is how Muslims are, this is how Arabs are, is actually quite, uh, deliberately constructed, and it does important ideological work every time it manifests in a different context, right? It can be adapted, it can be changed, it can be shifted, but at its root is still a very old medieval idea, um, that just gets new trappings and dressing.

This course, created by Ambereen Dadabhoy, couples Edward Said's theorization of Orientalism with early modern period texts. Students will examine traces of Orientalist ideas and stereotypes, and how they are being used to create a particular European orientation toward Islam and Muslims across time.  

The course starts in the late medieval period, reading several texts by European and English writers across different genres. These readings demonstrate how early modern European cultures were already global in their engagement with peoples across a variety of different belief systems and geographies. Examining these exposures combats the false notion of a totally insular England and Europe, one that had no knowledge of or experience with people from different cultures, religions, or races.  

By the end of the semester, students will see how ideas about Islam and Muslims have a long history in the West and that this history has many enduring fictions. This is especially important in our current moment, with a Western-backed Israeli genocide in Palestine. Understanding the longue durée of Orientalism, and how tropes about Islam and Muslims change and shift according to the contingencies of power, exposes Europe's very long interest in and engagement with Islamicate cultures and its peoples.  

Readings

  • Edward Said, Orientalism, Introduction, Chapter 1 
  • Adam J. Silverstein, A Short Introduction to Islamic History
  • Anon, The King of Tars
  • Chaucer, "The Man of Law's Tale" - The Canterbury Tales
  • Anon, The Song of Roland
  • Christopher Marlowe, Tamburlaine
  • William Shakespeare, Othello
  • Philip Massinger, The Renegado
  • Richard Knolles, General History of the Turkes (selections) 
  • Nicolas de Nicolay, The Navigations, Peregrinations and Voyages Made into Turkie (selections) 
  • George Sandys, Relation of a Journey (selections) 
  • Paul Rycaut, The Present State of the Ottoman Empire (selections) 

Preview image: Places of Mind: A Life of Edward Said (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux).

Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
Intro to premodern critical race studies
Transnational studies
Video
Ambereen Dadabhoy

Othello and the epithet of "Moor"

Ambereen Dadabhoy uses Shakespeare’s Othello as a text through which students can think about contemporary Islamophobia.

<silence> The coded language of the War on Terror, the 2017 Muslim ban and the conflict in Gaza is not New. Muslims have been stereotypically portrayed as violent and tyrannical since the pre-modern periods. It's important for students to be able to identify these strategic maneuvers in pre-modern literature and culture so that they can see their reflections in our present moment and identify them as false and misleading constructions. As a scholar of Shakespeare, I have to point to Othello. The play's main character is a moor who has converted to Christianity. Shakespeare sets the play in the Eastern Mediterranean, which during his life was almost exclusively under the dominion of the Ottoman Empire. It's not overt, but Muslim people and Islamic cultures are coded in the play through Othello and the play setting on the contested island of Cyprus. The play takes place in a historical moment before Shakespeare's time, the war of Cyprus in the 16th century, where there is a looming threat of Ottoman encroachment into Venetian territories. The play which was performed to early modern English audiences in the 17th century conjures a threat to the sanctity of Christian identity and by extension European culture through the Ottoman Muslim military advance led by Othello. The Venetians are victorious in the battle, though mostly due to a storm destroying the Ottoman fleet. At this point in the play, the danger of the Ottomans moves out of the realm of the political and into the personal. Othello now bears the brunt of Islamophobic coding. Although he is a Christian by conversion, the validity of his Christian identity is questioned. The epithet of more is also applied to Othello throughout the play, but becomes particularly toxic through the barbaric murder of his wife DeSimone. When he comes to believe that she is unfaithful to him, Othello seems to revert to his prior religious identity that of a Muslim. Once this religious identity is evoked, Othello is no longer an individual character. He's representative of early modern English fears and anxieties of the Muslim other. In fact, the text itself seems to erase his individualism. The play refers to Othello as the moor, a marker of race, ethnicity, and religion twice as often as it does. His name. Who he is, is not as important as what he is. The word moor as it is used in the period, is a European designation for an identity that is both non-Christian and non-white. While the term was used imprecisely, it also contained an element of religious specificity. A moor was most often a Muslim, so when it is used in Othello, it can't be excised. From this context, the word conjures Muslim identity in order to render his baptism and Christian conversion suspicious, while also confirming his identity is incompatible with his adopted culture. The play corroborates the suspicion when Othello is convinced of Des Damon's infidelity, and he begins his transformation into a stereotypical moor one who is tyrannical and violent with his wife. These are traits that come to be associated with Muslim men, particularly the murderous violence of Ottoman Sultans. At the same moment that Shakespeare's audiences were gathering at his globe theater, other plays and narratives already established and understood this stereotype, George Peel's lost play from 1594 tells the popular legend of how the Sultan Mehemet murdered his Greek captive Irene in an effort to reclaim his masculine honor. English audiences were already familiar with this Islamophobic trope, which is linked to Othello through its shared representations of violence against women. When I teach Othello, I ask my students to be detectives to start by looking at the way the play encodes Othello as a Muslim, I also ask them to notice the way the geography of the play works. To emphasize Islam strangeness and its hostility to Europe. I have them consider the ideological work that this elusive or spectral Islamic presence is doing for the play. How is it training its audience to understand their own position to Islam and Muslims? I want to get my students to think about what service Islam is performing for Shakespeare and by extension, his audience and his culture. These kinds of questions can help students see how Islam and Muslims have been framed as different as other, and as outsiders to Europe and the West. By understanding the long arc of Islamophobic stereotyping, students can see are present moments, connection to the past. What Shakespeare was constructing as the inherent violence of Muslim identity 400 years ago is the baggage we carry with us today.

The coded language of the War on Terror, the 2017 Muslim ban, and the conflict in Gaza is not new. Muslims have been stereotypically portrayed as violent and tyrannical since the premodern periods. It’s important for students to be able to identify these strategic maneuvers in premodern literature and culture so that they can see these reflected in our present moment and identify them as false and misleading constructions. Ambereen Dadabhoy uses Shakespeare’s Othello as a text through which students can think about contemporary Islamophobia and the tropes about Muslim people that we still encounter today.

Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
Transnational studies
Video
Ambereen Dadabhoy

Islam and the West

Guiding students through early modern texts, Ambereen Dadabhoy reveals the entangled relationship between Christian Europe and Muslim culture.

<silence> In 2006 Pew Research published a report called The Great Divide, how Westerners and Muslims view each other. The report surveyed people in North America and Europe on their sentiments toward Muslims, and it also surveyed Muslim people in the Middle East on their perceptions of Westerners. The report begins after a year marked by riots over cartoon portrayals of the Prophet Muhammad, a major terrorist attack in London and continuing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Most Muslims and Westerners are convinced that relations between them are generally bad these days. Many in the West see Muslims as fanatical, violent and as lacking tolerance. Meanwhile, Muslims in the Middle East and Asia generally see westerners as selfish, immoral, and greedy, as well as violent and fanatical. The report goes on to ask questions like, are Muslims respectful of women, and do you feel that suicide bombings can be justified often, or sometimes in the defense of Islam? I can't help but see the real glaring divide in both the title and the structure of the survey. It is one that is centuries old. The real divide is the intentional othering of Islam from the West. Currently, rising levels of anti-Muslim racism in the West are driven by Israel's ongoing genocide in Palestine. Making this an especially urgent issue for me right now, it should feel urgent to everyone. It seems to me that the lack of Western outrage over the hundreds and thousands of Arabs and Muslims killed and injured in this genocide shows how devalued and disposable Arab and Muslim life is. This has been fueled by a much longer history of anti-Muslim racism, a history that we can trace to early modern Europe and its formation of racial ideologies. In the 15th century, the Spanish regime conquered the last Muslim emerit in Iberia, the emerit of Granada, and forced the Muslims and Jews in the region to either leave or convert to Christianity. What followed these conversions was the implementation of a legal category of personhood, a taxonomy that arranged people according to the quality of their blood, as the name suggests, Sangre or blood purity deemed people's identities pure or impure, based on whether a person was an old Christian or new Christian Converso origin. This was a moment when religion and race became conflated. Muslims even after conversion, were not real Christians and could never be. As a scholar of early modern literature, I like to assign my students English plays from the period and pair them with extracts of early modern historical narratives. This methodology allows my students to see the construction of Islamic difference by Western cultures. The pairing of these texts shows how important Islam and Muslims were to the formation of early modern European culture, especially in the Iberian Peninsula where Muslims, Jews, and Christians coexisted for centuries. But as early modern colonial enterprises began to take hold and Christianity provided the justification for European imperial expansion outside of Europe's borders, a clean division between the west and the other was necessary English drama, religious writing, political polemic, historical, and travel narratives all demonstrate an interest in Islamic cultures and Muslims. When I teach English plays set in the Mediterranean, my students see how this seemingly distant geography and its peoples were fascinating to English audiences. The extracts of historical narratives I assign are from Leo Africanus geographical history of Africa and Richard Knowles's General History of the Turks. I typically assign these historical documents after students have already read the assigned plays while parsing these texts, I ask students if the representations of Muslims feels familiar or contemporary. Often students can point to the same rhetoric of prejudice and bigotry that we encounter in the western world today in the 21st century. While I want my students to see the differing attitudes that early modern discourses have about Islamicate cultures, I also want them to come away from these investigations with a sense that the common conflict narrative about Muslims and Christianity or Islam and the West has a long history, and that this narrative hides another history, one that includes collaboration, coexistence, and exchange. The phrase Islam and the West advances the idea that Islam is separate from the West. By parroting and promoting the idea of difference, it becomes easier to obscure the long history of Islamic cultures and Muslim societies in the West. Therefore, the west and Christendom can be seen as independent of any trace of Muslim cultures or practices. This convenient fiction has contributed to the West's ability to ignore and allow the loss of tens of thousands of Muslim and Arab people today.

The supposed supremacy of “Western” civilization is a fiction that has its roots in the premodern past. A major requirement of the development of this narrative is an intentional severance of the “West” from the culture and influence of the “East.” The east, in this construct, is being represented by Islam and Muslim people. Guiding students through early modern texts reveals the entangled relationship between Christian Europe and Muslim culture and can help our students understand how the fictions we live with today were developed and maintained.

Early Modern
Literature
Transnational studies
Video
Alani Hicks-Bartlett

Redefining the “foreign” in medieval and early modern texts

Making premodern texts relevant and accessible to students by creating contemporary connections and breaking down linguistic boundaries.

First, I begin pretty simply, and the opening point that I make is that the premodern periods are neither as distant nor as "foreign" as they may seem. And in regards to terminology, I'll just say that foreignness is not a term that I personally use very often, but it can indeed be a productive term to think through and to interrogate and challenge, particularly in the context of language departments and for courses that are taught in a primary language that is not English, as many of these are taught in "Foreign" language or modern language departments, so students are often already thinking along these lines in some way or another.) I often begin by making the point that our premodern past continues to have explicit links to and a direct impact on the present day. For instance, lamentably, and very obviously, we continue to grapple with similar issues such as political insolvency and unrest, xenophobia, racism, bigotry, nationalism, and broader struggles to understand racial, religious, and gender difference, as did our medieval and early modern predecessors. The majority of the texts from these periods evidence, be they historical or literary in nature and scope, um, the effective and residual proximity of the premodern period whose shadows and contours, and foundation are still so apparent today is an easy point to make. Current events speak for themselves and are frustratingly accurate in this regard. A critical perspective that gives attention to citationality and intertextuality is a useful if not absolutely necessary lens through which to understand medieval and early modern literature and culture. This can happen and can be achieved by considering the dialogues, parallelisms, echoes, and various points of contradiction between the primary texts themselves. For example, students are often intrigued by the similarities and patterns found in work such as the [ITALICS] fabliaux, Marie de France’s Lais, and the French and Italian novelle traditions, or in Christine de Pizan’s engaged and gender-prioritizing renegotiation of Dante’s Commedia in her first-person dream allegory the Livre du chemin du longue estude (the Book of the Path of Long Study), or in the relationship of race, linguistic, and cultural difference in works like Montaigne’s essays on cannibals (Des cannibales) and on coaches (Des coches), read in conversation with the Tempest, Othello, Giovanni Battista Giraldi (also known as Cinzio)’s “Un Capitano Moro—“a Moorish Captain,” travel narratives of the premodern period, stories from “One Thousand and One Nights,” and more contemporary texts like Frantz Fanon’s Peau noire, masques blancs (Black Skin, White Masks, which was published in 1952), Paul Laurence Dunbar’s poem “We wear the Mask,” as well as José Enrique Rodó’s Ariel, a modernist essay drawn directly from Shakespeare's Tempest, and Aimé Césaire’s “Une tempête,” (A Tempest from 1969), just to give some examples. All of these texts can be very effectively studied alongside critical race theory, theorizations of gender and sexuality, through critical works by scholars like bell Hooks, Sara Ahmed, Audre lord, Judith Butler, Rosemarie Garland-Thompson, Laura Mulvey, Ato Quayson, and Eve Sedgwick, just to name a few. The result of this approach is that students are often surprised by the vastness of prevailing tropes of the premodern periods and intrigued to see how they both creatively renegotiate and inform previous and later literary traditions. This goes back to my first point: by understanding the historical, cultural, and sociopolitical context of the past that continue to impact today, literature becomes more vibrant, relevant, and accessible, and seems less "foreign." And I think it's imperative to bring to the discussion of earlier texts, essential contemporary works that can help parse the medieval or premodern past.past.

Students often perceive premodern texts, especially those with origins beyond the English language, as inscrutable or “foreign.” To help bridge students’ relationship between their present and the cultures and histories of the premodern, Hicks-Bartlett assigns texts across temporal and linguistic ranges. Putting premodern texts in conversation with contemporary critical theory and scholarship guides students to deeper understandings of the reverberations of race, gender, and class across time.

Early Modern
Literature
Intro to premodern critical race studies
Video
Mariam Galarrita

Language and race in The Man in the Moone

The Man in the Moone by Francis Godwin provides a genealogy of premodern anti-Asian sentiment. The collision of language and race, and the allegorical comparison of the Chinese to the Lunarians results in the alienation of Asian culture and language.

In the 17th century, English intellectuals saw their home country as lagging behind other European powers. It was amid this anxiety that the idea of the need for a universal language swept the nation. Through the accounts of Jesuit missionaries to China, English theorists knew the Chinese used a writing system that could be understood across many countries and cultures. This writing system, the Chinese language, was imagined to be the lingua humana, the language of Adam. In The Man in the Moone, Godwin undermines the advancement of Chinese language and culture by making the lunarian language an allegory for Mandarin. This allegory combines the racial with the linguistic, reinforcing the alienation and orientalization of Asia.

Godwin's The Man in the Moone can be taught in conversation with modern science fiction and speculative fiction texts that explore the yellow peril and anti-Asian racism. Galarrita suggests pairing texts such as Ken Liu’s The Paper Menagerie and Edward Said's Orientalism alongside Godwin to present students a new understanding of the relationship between language and race.

Early Modern
Literature
Transnational studies
Video
Larissa FastHorse

Creative practice as an act of service

Collaborators Larissa FastHorse, Michael John Garcés, and Ty Defoe discuss the principles of their creative practice, which are based on listening to and meeting the needs of the community.

Creative practice as an act of service with Larissa FastHorse, Ty Defoe, and Michael John Garcés Transcript Michael John Garcés: We started with processing community, or a communal process. I think the beautiful part of a process like that, and it's not dissimilar from some of the processes we used at Cornerstone (and other processes we've all been involved in, in different contexts), is that there is a desire in the process for there to be an outcome. We just don't presume to know what the outcome is going be. So the outcome could look like a play, where we all get on stage and we're talking to each other and we have feelings about each other. It works out because we're acting, right? There is a desire for an outcome. So it could look like a play, or it could look more like a different kind of event. Or the outcome could be the community coming to the conclusion that we don't want to do a play, we don't want to have an outcome. That would be the outcome of that process. That rarely happens. I can think of maybe one or two times in my entire time doing any kind of engaged work. Then the community, after a relatively positive thing, decides it just didn't make sense to have an outcome. Some of the plays we've done, or some of the projects we've done have not really looked like plays to a conventional theater goer at all. They've been -- there's a word that people often misapply right now, in my opinion: everybody uses the word immersive. “We're doing immersive theater, it's immersive.” But really, theater that's happening around and through a group of people, when it's not even clear where the play begins and our interaction ends, is stuff we've done before. Sometimes it looks more like: I come to see other people perform a story. Right? So I think we're open: it could be something more communal, like a creative dinner, or a really engaged creative civic conversation that comes out of this process and doesn't look like a play at all. It's not really particularly performative. It could be a lot of different things, depending on where the play and the conversation with the community naturally evolves. But we do imagine that there will be an outcome to the process, as opposed to a process that's never-ending. Unless, I suppose, the community really wanted to have a never-ending process, in which case we would try to put that perpetual motion machine into motion and kiss it up to the heavens. So anyway, it could be a lot of different things, but there is the idea of an outcome as opposed to a process for the sake of process, in my mind at any rate, unless, again, that were to be what people wanted. Larissa FastHorse: There's just no pre-defined end. Each day is different. The processes are our art, because it isn't a separate thing. For instance, when we were up in Apache country we spent the day winterizing. And in the evening we served food at a sobriety meeting. And the next day we spent the day winterizing elder's homes. That was a process that, I would argue, is more important than the thing we finally did, the presentation of work we did at Steele Indian School Park and the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community. Michael John Garcés: The stories that were shared during that time, and the interactions, and how people were sparked with the idea that we were there with the idea of doing a play (people were like, "What?") -- that constellation of experience and constellation of connections that happened throughout are hugely important parts of the process. The little and big creative moments that happen during the peak can really be spectacularly beautiful in ways that have been instigated by the process. And those all form the ultimate thing that has been made in communal practice and interaction over two or three years. Larissa FastHorse: I think what is hard sometimes, especially with funders or producing organizations, is understanding that we had a transformative experience with one young woman in a basement in South Dakota, which sounds horrible, but it was a basement of a school. It was a transformative experience that we still talk about all these years later. We do. That was one human we saw that day and spoke to, but it had a lasting effect on us and our process and the artistic outcome for years. Telling a funder that we talked to one person today, that we flew all the way to South Dakota and talked to one person -- it sounds like failure, in the metrics of how we define success in funding and research and whatever. When we have a day where we have three meetings and 50 people come to all of them, or we do a talk and all these things happen: that looks like a successful day. But we may not have gotten anything important artistically, because we didn't have the time and the ability to really interact. The kind of human interaction we need to create work together and understand what people really want? Maybe we did, but sometimes we didn't. Numbers don't guarantee more success, but that's how this world is set up. So the process of being with this young woman in a basement for hours and hours and hours is that she never stopped talking, and it was huge. It had such an effect on our lives and our artwork, ultimately, and also how we work. We realized there were things we had to adjust in our protocols of how we work, so many things were learned from that day. But I'd say to 99% of academic and professional institutional metrics, that was a failure day. Some money spent to connect to one human, is that enough? Ty Defoe: I think this idea of narrative reparations and fostering narrative relations is the most important thing. If we are living in a story right now, we can tell the story of this day and share it with others. There's a quality to that, because theater itself is an ephemeral art. You do the show and it's gone. The process is whatever aliveness comes that day. Like the weather: you don't know what the weather's going to be (I guess here in Arizona it's going to be sunny, but it might be cloudy, right?). Given that idea, I think there's something about staying alive in the moment to radically give yourself to others. With the hopes that they also show up and give back. There's this exchange that happens in terms of story and whatever comes out of it. You don't know. I think that's the unknown factor, like the mystery of it: something wonderful and amazing is going to come out of it. If you bake a cake or make food or plant seeds: something may happen when you put time and intentionality and ritual into it, and all these really good ingredients. I wanted to share that because I think it's so important. This idea about valuing the interpersonal stories matters so much, and years later, you are not even talking about the show. You're talking about meeting inspiring young people, inspiring people that might not know a world different from their own. And that's humanity, right? That's the humanities. I get excited about it. Larissa FastHorse: So much of our work, too, is about what's common (which sounds silly) in the world. We talk a lot about not having an ego: you have to be able to put aside your ego. When I show up in community, I may spend all my time cooking or child-minding, or something. Things that maybe I personally as a human don't feel really called to. But that's what, in that community, that's the role. That's what I'm seen to be doing. Walking and holding babies is just not my thing, but there I was in a kitchen, with women holding babies, because in that community, that's what needed to be done. Not to be a playwright. Not to be any other thing that I might want to call myself. On the other side, we were just talking yesterday about when he and I were in Fiji on this grant, and we got to the University of the South Pacific, and the person who invited us was gone and didn't tell anybody we were coming. Here we were anyway. And so we asked, "what do you want us to do?" We're here to work with you. They wanted me to teach them Balanchine ballet classes specifically, because these were performers who are incredibly gifted dancers. They sometimes get trips to the United States and they want to take a ballet class where they don't know the protocols of how class works and what the formality is. Okay, I tell them: here's what happens in the dressing room. Here's what happens when you sign in. We went through all that. And then I taught them a Balanchine class. And that was the last thing in my life I expected to be doing in Fiji, teaching Balanchine ballet classes to people who don't have ballet shoes, and on these scary wood floors. It was not what I would have thought I would go to Fiji to do with indigenous people, but that's what the community needed, and that's what they wanted. And so that's what I did. Which fortunately was of interest to them. But if it had been of interest to them to have me sweep out the dressing rooms, then that's what I would've done. My dear Michael has spent much time notoriously cleaning a lot of rat poop off risers so the children would be healthy and safe. He spent a day, with a massive mask on, doing simply the work that needed to be done, so the children could be safe and healthy. That's what he did. That was being of incredible service to that community, and to the art that community was creating that day.

For the past several years Larissa FastHorse, Michael John Garcés, and Ty Defoe have been traveling around the world, visiting various Native communities to lend their expertise in theater and multidisciplinary arts.

The creative principles that guide FastHorse, Garcés, and Defoe offer insights into how to approach any creative endeavor, including pedagogy. At the center of their practice is a deep humility and interest in restoration and care. Focusing on listening and offering their support in roles that may appear to stem beyond the boundaries of theater-making, they demonstrate how attention, connection, and curiosity infuse creative spaces with value that cannot be quantified.

Early Modern
Performance
Indigeneity
Video
Larissa FastHorse

The real work of centering Indigenous voices

In 2023, Larissa FastHorse, Michael John Garcés, and Ty Defoe collaborated to produce For the People, the first ever full-length Native American production at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, Minnesota. They share their insights on how institutions can reorient to honor and center Indigenous communities.

Transcript for “The real work of centering indigenous voices with Larissa FastHorse, Ty Defoe, and Michael John Garcés” Larissa FastHorse : They've never had a native-written show in the history of the Guthrie, and so they said: “You need to commission and fully produce a show now. You've done two of these short form things: you really need to commit.” So the three of us, Ty and I, were co-writers, and Michael was the director. And we all continued the community engagement process together for several years. Ty Defoe: Doing a play like that: it was like figuring out the organizing, it was trust-building, it was finding the framework. So I felt like it kind of wove itself together in a particular kind of way. It was nice collaborating with these two, because it's like working with your family, it's like working with your friends. And it's all in service of telling that story and all in service of the community we want to serve. And so our ethic was very much aligned in working on a piece like that. Larissa FastHorse : There were some really beautiful institutional changes that happened with it. Our first day of rehearsal was gorgeous. We walked into the lobby of this quite cold building and there were all these native women, and urban spirits, and elders. In the first hour, the first day of rehearsal, there are a lot of rituals where generally the artistic director talks and then the director talks, and the players talk, the creative team talks, and there are presentations, and it's all somewhat formal. Michael John Garcés: The story I tell myself, which I think is close to accurate, is that in the 60 years of the Guthrie, in every first rehearsal, the first person to speak has always been the artistic director of the Guthrie, who has always, I believe, been male. You can guess their background. And if not that person, then their designated person because they were out of the country or something like that. Larissa FastHorse : First the Dakota elder spoke, and then the Ojibwe elder spoke, and then they smudged everybody. It was over an hour before the indigenous part was done. Michael John Garcés: It was a real message sent to the entire staff and the entire community of the Guthrie of what our process was going to be. And it really started us off on an amazing foot, I thought. Larissa FastHorse : I think people talk a lot about centering indigenous voices. They literally did. You know, there's a difference between saying "we're going to give space to" and centering. And so what we're trying to do is center indigenous voices. The way that first day went beyond giving a full hour, and all of the staff's time, is to say there's no parameters. No one tells them ... Michael John Garcés: ... How long to speak, or what to say. Larissa FastHorse : It was really beautiful. And in the corner another Dakota woman was making medicine bags for everybody. It was such a great example, like you were saying, for the whole staff and the production team to see: this is what it means. It means there's no limits. It's not that you fit within what we do. We're going to fit within what you do, and if there's time we'll do our thing too. Michael John Garcés: I think the artistic director there, Joe Haj, has been doing a great job, trying to take this ocean liner and somehow break its momentum and move in a different direction. I do think the work that Indigenous Direction has done there over the years set us up for that moment. That was years of creating a context -- where the organization that is pretty rigid and sees themselves as the example for the rest of the country really is how regional theater should be -- was able to shift what is a really important thing for them. The artistic director saying the first words is a big deal to them. As the Director, I got a whole long email explaining to me what was going to happen that day, how and why. That was the one they always send out. It wasn't a message being sent to me, it was what I got in my little package that they sent me. And I thought: Wow, that it was pretty intense. It was very specific. So it's really ingrained, and for them to say, we're going to shift this in a different way, and not center that voice, was powerful. Ty Defoe: Working with the team, it's like right: 500 years of extraction, of exploitation. Instead to have one hour of protocol of the land, where we were doing this theater piece? We were like, let's see if they can do this. Putting some of these theories into practice. And that was the moment. That was the moment of truth. Larissa FastHorse : And then I'd say also, before that though, the set design, for instance, was really an act of resistance. Michael John Garcés: Oh my gosh, so much. Tanya Orellana was our set designer. Larissa FastHorse : They commissioned local artists to create murals for the set. And it was interesting how something that seems so easy, isn’t. There is no system that allows that to happen at the Guthrie. It is a union house. So there's no system for two indigenous women to collaborate and create these wall murals. And then how do they get paid? And then who owns them, and who paints them? It was layers and layers of white supremacy culture. Someone has to paint the set and design what that looks like. And we couldn't have two local native women do it: it was wild how much work it took for you and Tanya. Seeing that set when you walked in was an act of indigenous resistance. Michael John Garcés: Very much. The set was acknowledged by some people at the theater: you walk in the space and it feels like a different thing is happening here. It was pretty radical; it was pretty great. Just the set: it almost felt like we'd done our work when the set was up. Larissa FastHorse : I would say two other big impacts you could see was with the audiences. Not only were there hundreds and hundreds of native people: everyone could get a free or a really cheap ticket. Every elder got five free tickets (any native elder that asked). Then huge groups were brought in from all these different communities. And we did a lot of work with the front of house and ticketing to make sure the experience felt indigenous. Families could come in the way they can, and children were welcome: we live in intergenerational families. And you know, it's interesting how just being able to allow people to exist, with space? How much work it takes: an incredible amount of work, and so many meetings, and so much drama. What happened was beautiful and everyone was fine. The white patrons were fine; the native patrons were fine. Michael John Garcés: They were definitely worried about how the experience would be if we were going change how house management worked. What was that going to do to quote unquote their patrons. And that is institutional resistance, right? In changing that conversation altogether, we had several meetings with their entire house staff, which is humongous-- it's a giant building that is hard to move around. They have lots of ushers, they have all kinds of house management staff. They're used to a sense of: we are dictating, there are rules for how one behaves in the theater space. You don't shush people, you don't talk during the show. You don't do this, you don't do that. We were like, none of that is going to work. Someone said, well, you know, we have to police people. And we said we are going to take that verb out of the conversation altogether. And I had to say: no policing, especially post 2020 Minneapolis. Let's just take policing right on out. And it was interesting, because everybody was like: Oh. And talked about that. At the end of the day, all we were asking people to do is: Don't be policers. Be welcomers. Just be welcomers: just say, welcome. We're glad you're here. Do you need any help? Can I do anything for you? Larissa FastHorse : That was radical. Michael John Garcés: Many others came up to us and said, I love my job so much now: this is fun to do. Because I don't have to feel like I'm somehow the hall monitor, the enforcer. We're really glad you're here. And people are glad to be here. Can I do anything? No? Great. Join the show. It was so awesome. It definitely changed people's experience and yet we didn't get a lot of complaints from their more conventional patrons. Ty Defoe: It also made the art more vibrant too. Not everyone was agreeing, when folks came to see the piece itself: this was made for that indigenous particular community. We had people laughing in moments, from the community, and that was really, really wonderful to hear. And other people were laughing at other moments too. It was really interesting and cool to see the cacophony of voices that would come to this, about a community coming together. There was a moment where there was a young person, a little girl, running down the aisle. A little toddler, trying to reach these beautiful plants that were on the stage because we had a huge rainstorm actually happen on stage. No one stopped her from reaching that plant. Things like tone-policing a space can feel really violent. People go to the theater and they fall asleep all the time. And they're snoring and no one wakes them up. So: this should be a place where people can exist.

Collaborators Larissa FastHorse, Michael John Garcés, and Ty Defoe discuss what ‘centering’ Indigenous voices really looks like. In this conversation, these three theater makers reveal how institutions and their structures can mean well, while failing to acknowledge the power differentials their institutional perimeters create.  

The institutional norms of theater, not unlike those of higher education, require self-reflection and revision in order to foster inclusive spaces. If we are to ‘center’ Indigenous voices, or any other voices from marginalized community, we must reflect on the way our institutions have created obstacles for and the erasure of BIPOC communities.  

Centering these voices calls to a 500-year history of extraction—a history and present that should not go unacknowledged as we work to create inclusive and just futures.

Early Modern
Performance
Indigeneity
Video
Suzanne Coley

Shakespeare and the art of bookmaking

Suzanne Coley offers her creative insights on interpreting Shakespeare’s sonnets through the art of bookmaking.

“Shakespeare and the art of bookmaking” Workshop transcript Suzanne Coley: I'm Suzanne Coley and thank you for coming here and allowing me to talk about my process and how I go from the actual text to the books. What I normally do is I start off with reading the sonnet and I see what images come to mind or pop out to me, or things that make me pause. We're going to start out with Sonnet 136. If thy soul check thee that I come so near, Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy will, And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there. Thus far for love my love-suit, sweet, fulfill. Will will fulfill the treasure of thy love, Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one. In things of great receipt with ease we prove Among a number one is reckoned none. Then in the number let me pass untold, Though in thy store’s account I one must be. For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold That nothing me, a something, sweet, to thee. Make but my name thy love, and love that still, And then thou lovest me, for my name is Will. If you saw a book made with this poem, what color do you think it would be? How would it feel? Do we really need words to tell a story? Can we tell this story with just imagery? There's no wrong or right answer. So you, what color would you, what color comes to mind? Workshop participant: For some reason, blue and I have no idea why. Blue. I agree blue. Suzanne Coley: I agree: blue. And you? Workshop participant: I'd say golds. Suzanne Coley: Golds. It's interesting because - I don't want to jump ahead - but in the other sonnet, he talks about the mask, you know, brocades and damask - it's a material, and he uses it as a verb. But we won't jump there. So gold: it just reminds me of that one. And you - what color? Workshop participant: Blue. I see blue as well. Workshop participant: I was thinking red and purple. Suzanne Coley: Red and purple. Workshop participant: I was in the red and purple camp. because I think - it's not an image - but love: "My love" "Sweet. Sweet. Fulfill" Suzanne Coley: “Sweet, sweet fulfill.” What does that look like? Workshop participant: It feels really rich and kind of fruity. You know, kind of red and purple to me. Suzanne Coley: This is the cover of my process book. And it's so funny how you said purples. So these are some of the things that I was thinking. And this is the final book that I made based on this. And I called it, Soul Check 136, because: what does one soul look like? If we had a photo of it or an image of it? I really wanted to explore bringing it into something very tangible and textile.

As a book artist specializing in printmaking, poetry, embroidery, and bookbinding, Suzanne Coley reimagines the words of Shakespeare through the medium of book art. Her work brings Shakespeare into the contemporary world and reshapes his texts into culturally and socially significant art objects. In the last 10 years she has made over 500 unique traditional hardback books expanding the traditional bookbinding and book arts practices. Suzanne's art combines painting, poetry, printmaking, and textile manipulation to examine the human condition and modern-day social justice issues.

Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
Syllabus
Ruben Espinosa

Revising the Shakespeare survey

Ruben Espinosa's annotated syllabus offers entry points to broaching conversations about race and racism within a course that isn’t necessarily devoted to Shakespeare and critical race studies.

An annotated syllabus created by Ruben Espinosa

I recognize that it isn’t always possible to offer a special topics course on Shakespeare and race, and as such, this syllabus offers a way to engage critical race studies within a Shakespeare Survey course. What I offer below are entry points to broaching conversations about race and racism within a course that isn’t necessarily devoted to Shakespeare and critical race studies.

Course description

This course is an introduction to Shakespeare’s plays and poetry. This semester, we will critically read, analyze, and interpret the works of Shakespeare to develop a greater understanding of his dramatic works and poetry. We will study plays from the genres of history, comedy, tragedy, and romance. In the process, we will examine the cultural forces in Shakespeare’s England, and scrutinize how his works register attitudes and apprehensions surrounding religion, race, gender, immigration, xenophobia, imperialism, and national identity. More importantly, we will consider how Shakespeare’s attention to these issues bears significance in our present moment, and we will explore how our own views of these issues influence the ongoing making of Shakespeare in our time.

Primary readings

  • Shakespeare’s Sonnets (Selections: Although my intent is not to be prescriptive, as I recognize people will be drawn to particular sonnets when teaching, these are the sonnets I typically assign – 1-5; 18-21; 55; 73; 106; 127; 129-131; 138; 152)
  • As You Like It
  • The Merchant of Venice
  • Henry V
  • Hamlet
  • Othello
  • The Tempest

Rationale for selections

While there is quite a bit from which to choose, I select these works to trace across them sustained attention to issues of race and racism. While I note in my course description that we will consider a host of issues, ALL of those issues can point back to structures of power and racism, and as such I search for that thread. As opposed to focusing the course on understood “race plays”—that is, plays that feature non-white characters—I try to show how whiteness, and structures of white supremacy, are taking shape in these works.

I begin with the sonnets because the first line of the first sonnet in the sequence is telling: “From fairest creatures we desire increase.” I let students explore what “fair’ means here, and after expected ideas about beauty and virtue, I draw on Kim F. Hall’s work to show students how fairness equates to whiteness. As such, we establish early on in the class that the literary work, something as simple as a sonnet, is advancing notions of white supremacy.

Establishing how the text identifies the value of any given person (and the devaluation of those who diverge from that standard) is key for me. In this way, my class can explore how notions of belonging depend on who is deemed valuable, and who gets to establish such worth. In the sonnets, the young, noble, white man is the epitome of beauty and is invaluable. The dark lady, not so much. The sonnets are a starting point for us to begin having these conversations. As we move into Shakespeare’s plays, then, we can see this paradigm at work more fully.

As You Like It commits itself to thinking about gendered hierarchies, tyranny, and immigration. The Merchant of Venice is deeply invested in considering insider/outsider status, and while it is clearly a play focused on antisemitism, it is also makes clear the role of racism through the character of Portia. Henry V is a play that expounds a sense of English nationalism, but it undermines this through the questionable actions of Henry and through the cultural confidence of Fluellen. In Hamlet, I find value in tracing how patriarchal structures of oppression dominate the play (from Hamlet’s Ghost to Polonius to Claudius). Beyond the play, though, I like to trace how Hamlet exists, to the present moment, as a play focused on the struggles of a privileged white man. When we take some lines out of the mouth of a white Hamlet and imagine them through the voices of people of color, Hamlet’s deep sense of isolation and unbelonging offer rich possibilities.

When I arrive at Othello, I like to play an excerpt of Ayanna Thompson’s interview, “All that Glisters is not Gold,” on NPR’s Code Switch where she discusses why staging Othello is so problematic. Up front, I want students to recognize the racist structures both within and beyond the play. This allows students to see how Shakespeare was engaging with racism, and how Shakespeare is used (still, to this day) to promote racist perspectives. I finally arrive at The Tempest, and here I can consider all the salient topics of discussion that I outline in my course description and demonstrate how Shakespeare’s work are in fact thinking about the awful realities of imperialism. That imperialism defines us today, but it does not have to define the way we understand and find value in Shakespeare.

Secondary readings and sources

For Shakespeare’s Sonnets

  • Kim F. Hall, “These Bastard Signs of Fair: Literary Whiteness in Shakespeare’s Sonnets,” in Postcolonial Shakespeares (ed. Ania Loomba and Martin Orkin)
  • James Baldwin, “Why I Stopped Hating Shakespeare”

For As You Like It

  • Ruben Espinosa, “Chapter 6: The Dangers of Indifference,” in Shakespeare on the Shades of Racism. [Note: I don’t assign my own work, but I do draw on it in class discussion]
  • Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands / La Frontera (Chapter 5 and/or Chapter 7)

For The Merchant of Venice

  • Qualities of Mercy Project, Texas A&M San Antonio video (on YouTube)
  • Katherine Gillen, “Language, Race, and Shakespeare Appropriation on San Antonio’s South Side: A Qualities of Mercy Dispatch,” in The Sundial
  • Kim F. Hall, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner: Colonization and Miscegenation in The Merchant of Venice

For Henry V

  • Scott Newstok, “‘Step aside, I’ll show thee a president’: George W as Henry V?”
  • Ta-Nehisi Coates, “The First White President,” in The Atlantic

For Hamlet

  • Richard Dyer, White (Introduction and Chapter 1)
  • Peter Erickson, “Can We Talk About Race in Hamlet?”
  • New York Public Theater video, #ToBeBlack (available on YouTube)

For Othello

  • Ian Smith, “Othello’s Black Handkerchief”
  • Ayanna Thompson, “All that Glisters is not Gold” NPR Code Switch interview
  • Toni Morrison, Desdemona (Acts 1, 2, 8, and 9)
  • Keith Hamilton Cobb, American Moor (pp. 14-22)

For The Tempest

  • Indira Karemcheti, “Caliban in the Classroom”
  • Ruben Espinosa, “Beyond The Tempest: Language, Legitimacy, and La Frontera” [Note: I don’t assign my own work, but I do draw on it in class discussion]

I realize that it might not be feasible to assign all of these readings, especially for an undergraduate class. Some of these readings (like Karemcheti) are short and digestible, while others are not as short. What I often do is offer particularly poignant excerpts from the secondary readings and allow students to discuss these in small groups before asking them to share their thoughts on these excerpts. Often, if I assign the full readings, many students are underprepared. When I have students read excerpts together in class, in real time, they engage more meaningfully with the ideas because we are all on the same playing field. Fortunately, the readings offer quite a bit in the way of provocative arguments. The idea is to use these sources as a starting point for class discussions.

Possible assignments

Public facing project (in lieu of a traditional essay and often much, much cooler)

For this assignment, you will be asked to craft a public facing essay that uses any work of early modern literature as a vehicle to explore a contemporary social issue. Please take time to look at the short essays published in ACMRS’s online journal, The Sundial. These public facing works will give you a sense of what is possible and possibly inspire the approach you take to this assignment. Your essays should be 750-1000.  

Video adaptation project

Students will collaborate to perform and film a rendition of a scene from any of the Shakespeare plays we cover during the semester. These films should not be more than five minutes in length, should employ at least some of Shakespeare’s original dialogue, and should find a way to speak to contemporary/regional social issues. Beyond these guidelines, you have absolute creative license for the production of these films. Students will submit a 1-page written “reflection” about the cultural significance of their production, and the groups will present their film near the end of the semester.

Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
RaceB4Race Highlight
Geraldine Heng

Defining race, periodizing race

In her 2019 RaceB4Race talk at the Folger Shakespeare Library, Geraldine Heng argues for thinking about race in transhistorical terms.

GERALDINE HENG: Soon after a pilgrim militia from the Latin West captured Jerusalem in 1099—in what we now call the First Crusade—Guibert Nogent, the learned abbot of Nogent sous Coucy, wrote a chronicle of the Latin occupation from his perch in 12th-century France. Jubilantly, he calls the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem a new colony (novae coloniae) of Christendom, invoking the Roman Empire as predecessor in whose footsteps the Latin West would now follow in its own military adventures. However, Guibert’s evocation of Roman colonization as the template for Christian colonization marks not just historical continuity, as he supposes, but also a historical break. His chronicle—the Gesta Dei per Francos (the deeds of God through (the medium of) the Franks)—registers that break: God, now, is the author of the colonial enterprise, and Christianity is the authorizing discourse for invasion and occupation. Medieval colonialism, we see, is thus neocolonialism: religion in the form of Christianity has inserted a difference between two eras of colonization, creolizing the old template of the Roman Empire so that a new colonial vernacular, a medieval vernacular, is produced. This creolized medieval vernacular will prove indispensable to all the later European colonizers: Portuguese, Dutch, British, French, Spanish that would arrive around the world, not like Rome, but like Christendom, wielding the sword and the book to found their own Christian-colored empires in the modern era. We see from this simple example the importance of defining the meaning of historical phenomena accurately, as instantiations from one era are ported over to another era and repeated, but never repeated identically as before, and always with difference. The allegory of naming and difference here helps us to think about race in transhistorical terms. So, what is “race,” and how do we define “race” as a transhistorical category? Scholars of literature, history, and art struggled for a long time with the concept of race. Like other concepts, theorized by those who study modern eras, such as Orientalism, race has seemed to some like a theoretical imposition ported backward from the present into deep historical time. So, premodernists grappling with phenomena that looked distinctly racist or Orientalist have, in the past, resorted to a vocabulary of deference to modernity, naming their phenomena “proto-racial” or “proto-Orientalist” instead and favoring a vocabulary of greater generality and greater amiability. Instead of “race,” we’ve had “ethnicity,” “alterity,” or “otherness.” Instead of “racism,” we’ve had “ethnocentrism,” “discrimination,” “prejudice,” or just dislike of “otherness and difference.” The absence of trenchant tools, analytic resources, and a vocabulary adequate to the task at hand thus made it impossible to acknowledge the magnitude of the racial phenomena, racial institutions, and racial practices that occurred in the European Middle Ages long before terminology stamped with the word “race” had formally coalesced in the Latin West. When the Jewish minority in England were tagged with badges, herded into towns with a surveillance system to monitor their livelihoods, imprisoned for coinage offenses, judicially murdered by the state for the trumped-up lie that they mutilated and crucified Christian children, slaughtered by Christian mobs, targeted for conversion by the state, taxed to the point of penury, subjected to a branch of government specially created for their surveillance, and then finally deported from England in the last exploitation of their usefulness—when so totalizing a racial apparatus is marshalled against a minority group, a label of “premodern prejudice” hardly suffices as a descriptor of the dimensions of horror endured. I’ve argued that, in fact, England’s Jews lived under the conditions of a racial state, the first racial state in the history of the West. Racial biomarkers were attributed to Jewish bodies: a special stench, a facial physiognomy, even horns and a tail. Jewish men were said to bleed congenitally like menstruating women, stigmatized as conspiring with the Antichrist. Charges of bestiality, blasphemy, diabolism, deicide, vampirism, and cannibalism were laid at the door of Jews in the countries of Europe. Many of the biopolitics of how this minority group was characterized, as just anxiety over “alterity,” hardly begins to address the abjection stigmatizing of the bodies of this medieval race in the Latin West. Studying the archives of premodern and early modern Europe with the tools of critical race theory surfaces recognition of other atrocities. The people we call the Romani, who emerged from northwestern Europe in the 11th century and migrated westward, were enslaved by the monasteries and boyars of southeastern Europe from the late Middle Ages well into the high modern era. Until these diasporic peoples were finally manumitted in the 19th century, “gypsy” was the name of a despised slave race. Trans-Saharan Africans were depicted in visual art as merciless torturers of Christ and killers of John the Baptist. A tympanum on the north portal of the west façade of the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Rouen depicts the malevolent execution of John, with his arm menacingly raised and brandishing a sword, as a phenotypic Black African. The 13th century abounds with images like this in architecture, sculpture, and illuminations. The encyclopedia by Bartholomeus Anglicus, De proprietatibus rerum, offers a conventional theory of climate inherited from antiquity in which cold lands produce White folk and hot lands produce Black. White being, we are told, a marker of inner courage, while the men of Africa, possessing Black faces, short bodies, and crisp hair, are “cowards of heart” and “guileful.” Cantiga 186 of Las Cantigas de Santa Maria, commissioned by Alfonso X of Spain, has an illustration in six scenes in which a blackface Moor is found in bed with his fair mistress. Both are condemned to the flames, but the fair lady is saved by the Virgin Mary herself. Black is damned, White is saved. Black is also the color of demons and devils and the color of sin, allowing Saint Jerome, the patriarch, to doom Ethiopia as the land of sinners. Is cultural production of this kind just “proto-racial”? The killing fields of international war furnish another crucible of racial formation. Bernard de Clairvaux, the theologian who cowrote the Latin Rule of Templars, pronounces in his treatise De laude novae militiae that the slaughter of Muslims didn’t constitute homicide, the killing of humans, but merely malicide, the extermination of incarnated evil. Muslims were not just vile, abominable, and a curse, as Pope Urban II, instigator of the First Crusade, had said; they were not to be seen as human beings at all, but as evil personified. St. Bernard thus saw no difficulty in calling for calculated genocide to extirpate from the face of the Earth these enemies of the Christian name: Extirpandos de terra christiani nominis inimicos. In 2011, I thus proposed a stripped-down, basic, minimum working hypothesis of race that goes like this: Race is one of the primary names we have—a name we retain for the epistemological, ethical, and political commitments it recognizes—for a repeating tendency, of the greatest import, to demarcate human beings through differences that are selectively essentialized as absolute and fundamental, so as to distribute positions and powers differentially to the human groups. It’s kind of a long mouthful, isn’t it? Yeah, okay. Okay. Race-making operates as historical occasions in which strategic essentialisms are posited and assigned through a variety of practices and pressures to constitute a hierarchy of peoples for differential treatment. Race is thus a structural relationship for the management of human differences—a mechanism of sorting—rather than a substantive content. The differences selected for essentialism will vary in the longue durée of human history, perhaps fastening on bodies, physiognomy, and somatic differences in one instance; perhaps on social practices, religion, or culture in another instance; and perhaps a multiplicity of interlocking discourses elsewhere. Biology and the sociocultural are thus not bifurcated spheres in race formation: they crisscross in the practices, institutions, and laws, operationalized on the bodies and lives of individuals and groups. So, my book, The Invention of Race in the European Middle Ages, discusses racial thinking, racial acts, racial laws, racial institutions, and racist phenomena across a range of registers and crucibles, invasion and occupation, nation formation and state formation, political theology, mercantile capitalism, holy war, settler colonization, economic adventurism, empire formation, contact and encounter, slavery, consolidation of universal Christendom, and epistemic change. I said all of that just for Jerry Singerman, who is in the audience, so that he knows that the kinds of projects we do are interdisciplinary projects. The book treats Jews and Muslims, Africans, Native Americans, Mongols, the Romani, and also White Christian Europeans as ethnoracial constituencies of the medieval era. You hear that, Jerry? Today, I focus on examples of racial dialect, racial logic, and racial strategies that repeat the difference across periodization, using examples largely not treated in the book to suggest the persistence of a transformational grammar of race from premodernity into the modern period. I also stress the importance of registering differences between periods and eras. For example, while Roman colonization, medieval colonialism, and the European maritime empires of the modern eras deploy ethnoracial strategies, as their forces march across their known worlds, their differences also require recognition. Slavery, an institution closely associated with racial formation, has also had varied configurations and meanings across macro history, hence this conference. Periodization matters. Racial logic, racial form, racial dialect, the transformational grammar of race across time. Theories of climate, Denise McCoskey attests, constitute a repeating arsenal in the amassing of racial dialect. As early as the fifth century BCE, the infamous essay, “Airs, Waters, and Places,” attributed to Hippocrates, already offers a fully fledged racial logic of climate, environment, and geography as grounds that predispose fundamental differences among humans from which group character can be assigned to differentiate between the inhabitants of continents. In the Middle Ages, encyclopedias like De proprietatibus rerum visually incorporated theories of racial character and behavior based on climate, geography, and physiognomies of bodily humors and temperaments thought to devolve from climate and geography. In modernity, environmental and geographic determinism prove indispensable for colonialism. India was subjugated because its climate made the natives “fatalistic” and “supine,” thus easy to colonize, whereas “the bracing weather of northern Europe . . . produced a dynamic race, fit for conquest and exploration.” You can tell that’s a quote, yeah? Plantation slavery, too, benefited from climate theory: In the . . . American South. . . [the fact] that Africans could . . . endure [slave] labor . . . was proof positive . . . that different climates had moulded the races differently . . . Africans were . . . better acclimated to hot climates. [These are quotations from Denise McCoskey.] Theories of religion, in the long history of Christianity, with its schisms, heresies, reform movements, and breakaway formations—and the insistence that there can be only one Christianity in the singular, not diverse Christianities—also created a slippery, tenacious logic that has configured religio-racial formation across medieval and modern time. Heretics—defined as anyone whose faith deviated from dogma—were persecuted in Europe in inquisitions, tortured, branded, tagged with badges, and hundreds, if not thousands, executed. Did “heretics” harden into a virtual race at specific historical junctures in the Latin West? The apparatus of heresy is deployed in signal instances of persecution and abjection: from the trials of the Order of the Temple in France, to the execution of Joan of Arc, heresy is operationalized as a preferred mechanism of sorting by which the Latin West cast out, condemned, and put to death. Popular movements of “heretical” Albigenses and Cathars evolved into the targets of holy war, as if they had been Muslims. At Béziers, where they were massacred in droves during the Albigensian crusade—by one account, 20,000 were slaughtered—the papal legate is said to have called for all to be killed, leaving to God the business of sorting out the victims. Putative heretics were hounded and persecuted in inquisitions from the 13th century until long past the end of the medieval period, with torture, exile, and execution being some of the favored outcomes. The history of the febrile internal divisions that conduced to the demonization of an otherwise non-physiologically differentiable population for the production of absolute intrareligious differences does not end. In the early modern era, the internecine war between Protestants and Catholics within a single nation, England, suggests an intractable historical continuity in the instrumentality of religion for the discovery of intractable differences. But periodization in race matters. Reading race transhistorically, however, requires acknowledging differences in the character of racial institutions in different eras. Periodization matters, and slavery is a key example. In the medieval period, slavery was an equal opportunity condition for all races and assumed a variety of forms. The slavery endured by the Romani in Wallachia and Moldavia spanned centuries, but Romani, domestic, and field slavery differed greatly from Egypt’s Mamluk military slavery, which also spanned centuries. For the Mamluks—a military elite comprising primarily Turkic and Circassian slave boys, who were plucked from continental Eurasia and raised as professional soldiers—the sultan of Egypt, Palestine, and Syria could only be drawn from the ranks of former slaves. For this most powerful Islamic polity of the southern Mediterranean and Levant over three centuries, until the ascendency of the Ottomans, the requirement of having once been a slave was an indispensable condition of eligibility for the highest office in the land. Prized female Caucasian slaves in Islamic Spain, al-Andalus, or in the Levant could rise to become the revered mothers of caliphs, sultans, and emirs—or, in the case of the remarkable Shajar ad-Durr (Tree of Pearls), to become the only Mamluka in the three-century history of the Mamluk dynasties. In Dar al-Islam, extraordinary social mobility meant that being a slave could be an important first step to power, wealth, and status, an avenue of upward mobility, importantly open to women. This is not the case for plantation slaves in the later American South. Premodern slavery is thus distinct from early modern and modern slavery, and distinct also from the mutating forms of slavery (including child and sex trafficking) that dog the 21st century. Caucasians—eastern and western Europeans—were sold at slave markets alongside other races throughout the Middle Ages. Household slaves were common and typical in premodernity. Plantation and field slaves, less attested. In the Mediterranean and Indian Ocean trade, slaves could become trusted commercial agents acting on behalf of absentee merchants, and, outside the lands of Christendom, manumitted slaves might become generals, admirals, diplomats, governors, and rulers. The sheer variety of medieval slavery’s conditions and opportunities thus attest to very specific differences within the medieval period, as well as between the medieval and later periods in the phenomena characterizing the institution of slavery. In discussions of race, distinctions of this kind must be honored with acknowledgement that periods can be marked by institutions and phenomena that reoccur, but reoccur with varied expressions over the longue durée, because periodization matters. This is not to say, of course, that racialized groups in populations cannot be studied for their historical continuities within a transformational grammar of race across macrohistorical time. Africans, the Romani, Jews, and Muslims all constitute racialized populations whose treatment variegates over time with racial instrumentalities being renewed, adjusted, adapted, or transformed. Religious dogma, over the centuries, also conduced to the devolution of absolute differences so that co-religionists can be cast out and treated like a virtual race across the centuries. In demonstrating the persistence of racialization across historical periods, my last example are the Cagots: abject communities of people living on the outskirts of towns and villages on both sides of the western Pyrenees throughout Béarn, Aquitaine, Navar, and the Toulousain. These impoverished, subaltern Christians were not physically or linguistically differentiable from the townspeople on whose margins they lived. Yet their stigmatization extends over deep historical time, from the 10th century through the 18th century, and accrued a variety of racial forms. Daniel Hawkins’s 2014 master’s thesis, Chimeras That Degrade Humanity: The Cagots and Discrimination, traces how Cagots—who were called by a variety of names—were shunned, despised, and abhorred from medieval into modern time. Legislation from the 13th to 17th century segregates them into residential quarters and occupations and constricted their day-to-day behavior and movements. Hawkins shows how they were banned from taverns and denied the use of public fountains, forbidden to sell food or wine or touch food in the marketplace, forbidden to work with livestock or carry arms or walk barefoot, and, though they were Christian, also forbidden the sacraments. Cagots could not marry outside their kind, and they had to keep to designated places in church, while they were alive. As late as 1721, a carpenter and his son were roughed up in a church in Beirut by three municipal counselors who refused to allow them their choice of seats. Segregation continued even after their death. Their bodies were confined to designated places in cemeteries. They had to wear a badge of red cloth on their chest, sometimes in the shape of a duck or goose foot, and were subject to endless punitive laws. Their racialization also took biopolitical form; they were said to lack earlobes, to possess an infectious smell, and to give off great heat. “When the salt wind blew, their lips, jugular glands, and the duck foot . . . under their left armpit all swelled, and their stench was well-known.” (This is a quotation from Hawkins.) The early modern period did not see a change in their subaltern status. In 1629, André du Chesne wrote of a people commonly called capots and gahets that everyone detests like lepers, with stinking breath. All are carpenters or coopers, the remains of the race of Giezi, or some say the Albigeois heretics, separated from the community by their homes in life and in the cemetery after death. [Another quote from Hawkins.] Many of the rules setting the Cagots apart from everyone else seem obsessed with them as sources of pollution and contamination, a phenomenon that scholars who study the Dalit or untouchables of India and those who study leprosy would find familiar. Explanations abound for why the Cagots were reviled and cast out from society. Perhaps they once formed groups shunned for leprosy—Hansen’s disease—and it was fear of infection or the moralizing of lepers as sinners damned by God that caused their original segregation, and the stigma then just continued to be attached to their descendants over many generations. Symbolizing depravity, lepers were also associated with heresy, R. I. Moore tells us. Lepers were expelled from cities like Paris—in 1321, 1371, 1388, 1394, 1402, and 1403—and were also massacred. Following rumors of a poisoning plot in 1321, one chronicler says “they were burned in almost all of France.” Or, another explanation goes, Cagots may have been the descendants of Muslims, and the memory of their origins as infidels persisted across time. Or they had been the poor of Christ, pauperes Christi, the wretched who had to scratch out an impoverished living. Hawkins finds that 15th-century records even insinuated Cagots were somehow related to Jews, another community of racial subalterns who had to wear a badge and were stigmatized by punitive laws. The association of Cagots with leprosy alerts us to how disease and disability produced bodily configurations that were moralized, judged, and abhorred. Even the monstrous races of Plinian tradition—another inheritance from antiquity, one that created a conceptual grid through which the Middle Ages understood other types of monsters like Jews, Muslims, and Ethiopians—even the monstrous races seemed uncannily to resemble deformed or disabled humans. Their bodies are too large, too stunted, too sexually overdetermined by their genitals, or missing a leg or an eye, or had corporeal features located in the wrong places. Disabled and non-normative bodies do seem to form the basis of the caricatures that constitute the monstrous races of tradition, among whom the Cagots—who might once have been lepers, or disabled, or diseased, or the abject poor, or Muslims, or Romani, or Jews—are a historical example of a population deemed monstrous and abhorrent for reasons not of their own making. The example of the Cagots, along with that of Africans, Muslims, the Romani, Jews, deviant Christians, and even imagined human monsters, shows us that the infrastructure of racial formation in deep historical time repeatedly intersected with, and was dependent on, infrastructures of class, disease, disability, gender, sexuality, and religion. These were the conditions through which race was articulated, and they furnished the particular forms of racial expression in a variety of contexts. Is it any wonder that race and racisms have been so long-lived?

Defining Race, Periodizing Race | Listen to the full talk

Presented by Geraldine Heng at Race and Periodization: A RaceB4Race Symposium in 2019

Geraldine Heng argues for thinking about race in transhistorical terms. Because the concept of race uses a vocabulary that defers to modern understanding, premodern scholars have been missing a vocabulary to analyze the breadth of racial “phenomena, institutions, and practices” that premodern critical race scholarship now uncovers. Heng describes archival evidence of racialized atrocities that PCRS reveals: stigmatized bodies blamed and punished, identified as not only not-human but also evil personified. Heng outlines the repetition of racial thinking across history, despite the differences in eras. By tracing the wide variations of the conditions and targets of enslavement over time, for instance, Heng demonstrates the persistence of racialization and its consequences for peoples perceived as essentially different. Heng closes with a description of the Cagots, European peoples labeled “monstrous” and ostracized from the 13th-17th centuries. To demonstrate the persistence of racialization, Heng illustrates how the Cagot suffered intersections of religious, class, and gender prejudice coupled with fear of disease, and were discriminated against based on changing biological markers of disability and non-normative bodies.

Read a transcript

Medieval
Literature
Intro to premodern critical race studies
Transnational studies
Essay
Ayanna Thompson

Teaching race in Titus Andronicus

Helping students make sense of race in Titus Andronicus with a strategic framework for in-class discussion.

Having convinced (and assigned) students to read Titus Andronicus by establishing that this is not the Bard they know from high school, I am very strategic in the discussions that follow. After all, I have assured them I will help them make sense of this crazypants play.

Defining the revenge tragedy

Before we discuss the play in earnest, it’s important to review the generic constructions of early modern drama: comedies, tragedies, histories, and romances. Many students come into my classroom already understanding the distinctions of the genres, but it is not often that they’ve dug deeper into how these narrative structures generate meaning in the play.

This is why students need to understand that a revenge tragedy like Titus is all about agency: who is able to act and who is denied. Revengers become agents of action instead of objects acted upon. For example, we’ll often discuss how Tamora’s sexuality, like her desire for revenge, transforms her from an object of the state into a subject of force. We’ll also discuss and examine how Lavinia’s rape and mutilation make literal the way she is objectified by everyone in this Roman society, including her father, as Titus sees her as his handmaiden for revenge.

Aaron the Moor and the construction of racial difference

Once we’ve discussed how the narrative structure forces the question of agency in the play, I like to ask the students why Aaron, as a character, is in the play.

First, we talk about the early modern conceptions of Moors, and why, if the play is inherently interested in the nature of action and agency, Shakespeare would have included a Moor. There was a great deal of confusion in early modern England about what a Moor was and what Blackness signified. I begin by offering students the OED definition:

A native or inhabitant of ancient Mauretania, a region of North Africa corresponding to parts of present-day Morocco and Algeria. Later usually: a member of a Muslim people of mixed Berber and Arab descent inhabiting North-Western Africa (now mainly present-day Mauritania), who in the 8th century conquered Spain. In the Middle Ages, and as late as the 17th century, the Moors were widely supposed to be mostly black or very dark-skinned, although the existence of “white Moors” was recognized. Thus, the term was often used, even into the 20th century, with the sense “Black person.”


Additionally, according to Anthony Barthelemy, “The only certainty a reader has when he sees the word is that the person referred to is not a [white] Christian.” Students need to remember, however, that the performance of Blackness in premodern England was often associated with representations of the devil. In medieval morality plays, for example, the devil was often performed in blackface.

In 1577, George Best wrote that racial differences stem from the biblical story of Noah. When Noah and his family were saved from the flood, they were told to “abstain from carnal copulation with their wives.” Noah’s son Cham (also known as Ham or Shem), however, disobeyed, and God punished him:

For the which wicked and detestable fact, as an example for contempt of Almighty God, and disobedience of parents, God would a son should be born whose name was Chus, who not only in self, but all his posterity after him should be so black and loathsome, that it might remain a spectacle of disobedience to all the world. And of this black and cursed Chus came all black Moors which are in Africa, for after the water was vanished from off the face of the earth, and that the land was dry…, Africa remained for Cham and his black son Chus… being perhaps a cursed, dry, sandy, and unfruitful ground, fit for such a generation to inhabit it.


The early modern construction of racial difference was evolving, changing, and adapting from the influence of travel narratives like Best’s. In the end, whatever version or conflation of the story, this “curse” of Ham mythology solidified the belief that Black people were, by divine decree, inferior and associated with evil.

Aaron’s silence

It’s important to remind students that Aaron the Moor is (probably) onstage for the entire first act, but he does not say anything. He is brought in as a slave with the Gothic prisoners of war.

Aaron’s silence in the first act is significant because it can be interpreted in different ways. And this is an ideal place for conversation with students. I ask them to consider how Aaron’s Blackness is present on stage, especially in comparison to the Goths, and what function his visual presence serves. Why is Aaron here?

This is also a moment where I might discuss early modern staging practices and the likelihood of Aaron being played by a white actor in racial prosthetics (probably a wig, arm and leg coverings, and blackface). This explicit and constructed racial difference has an agenda—how is it affecting our understanding of this first act?

When Aaron does speak, it is in a long soliloquy, which is a marker of interiority. We read act 2 scene 1 aloud, noting that Aaron’s language is unlike any other characters in the play: he has a linguistic dexterity that is awe-inspiring. He is able to plot schemes to control the people around him: he controls Chiron, Demetrius (and by extension Lavinia), Titus, and Tamora (and by extension Saturninus and the Roman state).

Aaron’s awareness of stereotypes

I ask my students: is Aaron, the character, aware of the stereotypes and mythologies that are thrust onto him? We read act 4 scene 2 aloud while considering this question.

Aaron does not make references to his color or race until after characters like Lavinia, Bassianus, Titus, and the Nurse keep maligning him because of his Blackness. After these repeated comments, however, Aaron attempts to turn notions of color prejudice on their heads. Aaron condemns whiteness for being inconstant. He praises Blackness for its constancy and for its proof of paternity.

Shakespeare seems to be testing the audience’s conceptions of Blackness by having Aaron be the only parent who actually protects his offspring (both Titus and Tamora are willing to kill their own children to protect their positions in the state). By the end of the play, however, Aaron’s language changes significantly, and he becomes the cursing devil instead of the punning trickster. We read act 5 scenes 1 and 3 aloud to experience the shift in Aaron’s diction. It is clear that Aaron’s fate at the end of the play is to fulfill the devil.

A will of their own?

Titus Andronicus replicates the revenge tragedy genre, but it is also bizarrely self-conscious in its use of allusions to literary devices and models for cruelty, suffering, and revenge (Ovid, Horace, Homer, etc). It is almost as if the characters feel that there is no original way to experience their own lives. They seem to express a notion that everything has been scripted for them. Examples I point out include:

  • Chiron and Demetrius on rape (2.3.1ff/2.4.1ff)
  • Marcus on suffering (2.3.38ff/2.4.38ff)
  • Titus’s scrolls to the gods (4.2.18ff)
  • Lavinia’s use of Ovid (4.1.40ff)

Titus Andronicus, then, seems to be deeply engaged with an interrogation of the force and power of societal constructions of identity. Although Aaron, Tamora, and Lavinia all begin the play with identities that are unique and original, they all succumb to the crushing pressure of the society’s expectations. “As the saying is” becomes a way to plot these figures, and ultimately it becomes a way to deny them agency also.

Early Modern
Literature
Shakespeare
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