In the end, I was impressed by Baker’s Nat Turner because it left me feeling so conflicted – almost disturbingly conflicted. As I got toward the end, I was growing uncomfortable with how the rebellion was portrayed. I thought the ironic juxtaposition of brutal imagery with Turner’s own dispassionate, matter-of-fact descriptions was great, but the Christ-like depiction of his hanging (complete with celestial light beaming down from the heavens) was overly congratulatory. There’s no doubt that Turner was a great man who stood up against the worst sort of human oppression. However, he did so by equally inhuman means (slaughtering women, children etc). You could definitely make an argument that those are the only means that could truly wake people up to the evils of slavery, but I thought the super-martyrdomy imagery and the caricature-like drawing of the bloodthirsty mob was making our minds up for us and oversimplifying the insane (and extremely interesting) moral complexity inherent in Turner’s account.
That being said, I thought the last few panels brought a lot of that ambiguity back to the party. I inferred that the girl who steals away to read Nat Turner’s confession is Harriet Tubman, especially considering how the timing fits and how Baker mentions in his introduction that the rebellion inspired her, among others. Considering how, historically, Tubman was illiterate, this may be a stretch. If this is a valid reading, though, it suggests the possibility that more violence isn’t the only way to resist violent oppression. As we see throughout the story, it’s education that gives Nat Turner his power to organize and inspire his rebellion. In Tubman’s case, however, stories (including biblical stories and stories like that of Turner’s rebellion) spur her to take a different approach. You could see it as Nat Turner’s sacrifice paving the way for gradual resistance and improvement, or you could see it as Tubman learning from the episode, consciously rejecting Turner’s methods, and taking another path. Or maybe it isn’t Tubman. Maybe it’s meant to be generic, and the emphasis is simply on the potential of stories and education to give us power to shape our worlds. Maybe it’s a mix. In any case, it’s an intriguing conclusion to a visceral, ambiguous story.
Jay, I think you bring up some excellent points. Question: does the text want for us to feel conflicted? True, there are nods to this complexity on the book jacket, but Baker’s admiration of the man seems rather clear to me throughout the book (which he justifies early on by citing Frederick Douglass, Malcom X, etc). Hell, I certainly am fascinated by Turner myself—what person that encounters his story isn’t?
The book certainly is much more of an apologist for Turner’s actions than “The Confessions” ever was—and perhaps duly so. The “Text and Context” piece from this week’s readings does a great job of dissecting the bias pervasive in “The Confessions.” There is no doubt that Baker sees his work as the answer to “Text and Context’s” clincher that “we are ready for a new retelling of the Nat Turner story.” Numerous readers and critics have called the piece just that and heaped accolade after accolade upon it.
I’m not quite as convinced.
To be honest, until this class, I’ve avoided sitting down with this particular graphic novel. Why? There’s something about imposing meaning and interpretation onto history that’s just a bit irksome to my scholastic sensibilities—unless the work is clearly meant to be overtly entertaining and/or fictional.
I’m not sure if Baker’s graphic novel is meant to fit into those latter criteria. (Feel free to convince me). Would the average reader pick up this piece and think, “oh, a historical FICTION novel?”
I know, I know—all historical texts impose meaning and interpretation to one degree or another. I guess my hesitance is especially true when the work in question is visual in nature. It seems to me that visual storytelling imposes even more than a regular text does.
Am I the only one thinking this?
While I welcome such visual narrative in memoir-based work (even in the once-removed narrative of MAUS or ALAN’S WAR), it seems to me quite a nuanced, problematic challenge to take an event from so long ago and avoid coloring the story even more than historians already do.
Perhaps my discomfort is also based on an unfair, distorted sense of today’s audience intelligence. Many of my friends have accused me of just that. However, I have spent far too much time listening to people ramble on about how media like, say, “The Patriot” is “so awesome”—without having any knowledge of the actual historical events—that I can’t help but wonder what an uninformed, non-skeptical reader would take away from Baker’s book. (Granted, Baker is a far more reliable author than Mel Gibson ever was, but still…) Maybe that’s not a fair burden to put on a text (visual or otherwise), but it’s one I find myself wondering about more often than not.
For example, Turner has always been an elusive figure for both the scholar and the public alike—so perhaps he’s fair game. Jay, you do a good job of pointing out the problematic nature of the hanging scene. I can’t help but notice that the Turner of Baker’s book shares the same square jaw and bitter eyes as the vigilantes of Miller; that’s a far cry from the lithograph portrait of Turner in the University of Virginia’s archive (itself another example of historical bias, perhaps?) To me, this is every bit as troubling as the slant displayed by Thomas Gray.
There is no denying that each one is visceral in its own way. And at the end of the day, both confront us with some of the darkest, troubling, conflicted pages of America’s history. Again, maybe the two perspectives balance each other out—but in that case, at the very least, it seems to me that both necessitate the reading of the other.
First of all, I’m really glad someone brought up the conflicting nature of the story. Not that it’s the most subtle thing, but I was definitely interested to see what people thought about Baker’s illustration of Nat versus Gray’s voicing of Nat. I guess to be honest, I don’t feel like anywhere in the piece am I actually encountering Nat Turner himself. Such is the way it goes works based on historical events that were documented by everyone except the person/people involved.
Having read plenty of slave narratives and autobiographical/biographical accounts, there is always the question of historical reliability of the text; however, I felt like with Baker’s graphic depiction this question became even more important. Usually I can relegate the importance of a text’s historical reliability to the corner and say that the story itself is important merely for the impact it wishes to have, or the change it wishes to enact, but with this account of Nat Turner I cannot let it go. This is probably mostly due to the fact that I am under the impression Kyle Baker wants us to question the historical validity of Thomas Gray’s account, for one. I get the feeling that the whole work is shouting to me, “Hey, do you think this is really how it went down?” If the “point” of the narrative was to simply tell the story of Nat Turner, this would be a history book. If the point was to simply tell the story of Nat Turner, Baker would have probably written an account in his own words. Instead he uses no words of his own, but incorporates Gray’s account of Turner’s account into his graphic depiction. Why would Baker use an almost assuredly flawed (by flawed I mean intentionally biased) account of the rebellion to narrate his work? He obviously respects the importance of Turner’s rebellion, as Josh pointed out in Baker’s introduction, and through his research of the subject cannot be ignorant to the bias present in Gray’s account. But this respect he holds for Turner and knowledge of the Gray’s disrespect for Turner seem, to me, to be incompatible.
Thus, I am lead to believe that Baker isn’t simply using Gray’s account because he believes it to be the most accurate or because he just isn’t capable of coming up with good narration, but because he wants this tension to exist. I have a feeling he wants us to go into the narrative with the impression that his telling of the story will revise Gray’s and then have us be shocked, surprised, maybe slightly appalled that it doesn’t. I think Baker wants us to wonder why he draws Nat, Sam, and especially Will with the menace and murderous rage that he does. By incorporating a few praising frames of Turner into the narrative (like Jay pointed out about the heavenly image of Turner’s lynching), Baker is suggesting that we question this account. By drawing seemingly complementary pictures to accompany Gray’s account, Baker is actually exposing the bias therein. To make this point viable, Baker’s inclusion of scenes of Turner’s life (and scenes of his mother’s life) before the rebellion is necessary. First Baker has to approach slavery as a vile institution, and then he must only depict the slaves as wicked characters when Gray’s account narrates them as so.
In some ways, I think Baker’s book is just asking us to consider what he himself considers in the introduction to Nat Turner. Why would a man who had so much impact on the lives of important civil rights leaders be so hard to find information on? Certainly the rebellion was a morally reprehensible way in which to fight the injustices of slavery, so is it this ambiguity that prevents many authors/scholars/etc from producing their own account of Turner’s rebellion. I think Baker’s book is a great example of how an author (or illustrator) can question the validity of the most famous document associated with a person (in this case, Gray’s account of Nat Turner) in order to make the topic neutral for others to begin exploring again. By producing this work, I think Baker has made the story of Nat Turner one that doesn’t have a clear moral implication, and therefore inspires people to educate themselves on the topic and, whatever their opinion, make it known.
Kristine, I think you make some great points. I think reading this piece along with “The Confessions” is the way to go…I guess I’m just wary of it’s ability to stand alone, without reading knowledge of said primary source.
You say, however, that the story doesn’t have a clear moral implication…I’m not sure that I agree with you. Baker seems to pretty pro-Turner to me (‘though he masks it with a rather weak argument for literacy in his preface). Regardless, I certainly share your hope that it inspires people to educate themselves.
We’ve talked a bit re. the extra text that Baker brings to the flawed account (such as the very real possibility of Turner’s marriage). Incidentally, wasn’t it interesting what Baker decided to riff on and what he didn’t from “The Confessions?”
Josh,
Do you mean that you’re wary of Baker’s text being able to stand alone without the entirety of “The Confessions,” or that Baker’s images couldn’t stand without Gray’s text? I might have to fight you on this if it’s the former.
I guess I’m under the impression that while Baker might be pro-Turner, the story itself does not push that in your face. Would you have felt the text was pro-Turner if there had been no introduction by Baker? I don’t think that Baker’s martyring of Turner at the end is necessarily justification for Turner’s actions so much as it merely prompts us to wonder if it is justification, after reading 200 pages of him leading people to slaughter entire families.
As for Baker’s “rather weak argument for literacy,” yes, it was short and rather to the point without any of the necessary convincing that usually is associated with academic argumentation. To this I have two defenses, though they also might be rather weak. First, it’s an introduction to a graphic novel. I think Baker wanted this work to be accessible to a large range of people and a large range of age groups. Therefore, it sort of looks like he trimmed all the fat from what could be a great argument and just said, “Kids, make sure you read. It is so good for you.” Second, Baker’s book is entering into an already very well established body of works that espouse literacy as an important, possibly the most important, tool a slave could have had. (Think /Narrative Life of Frederick Douglass/.) So, I can see where he might have just glazed over his argument already having been aware of its validity; however, I would have preferred more than just the bare minimum that he laid out for us.
Your suggestion that the tension between the mostly heroic representation of Turner and the staid, literal representation in the Confessions is intentional reminds me of the idea of double-voiced discourse—using the very words of the authority figure in a way that subverts that authority’s power. It’s widely used in African American literature. It’s closely linked to Henry Louis Gates’ idea of signifyin(g), a mode of rhetoric that relies on repetition and revision to critique dominant cultural practices and values. I wonder in what way we might read Nat Turner as a game of visual signification…
Josh, I would agree that the entire question of historical reliability versus fiction pervades Baker’s graphic novel. Jay and Kristine also allude to this in their post, and I tend to concur that the notion of conflict between history and historical fiction is something that Baker intentionally plays with throughout.
The fact that the character of Nat Turner is almost entirely absent from the first section of the graphic novel makes a significant statement to readers that the novel is not simply a frame by frame visual history of Turner’s life and his slave rebellion, but more of an open-ended work which allows Baker to tackle the larger horrors and specific issues of the slave trade and institutionalized slavery in the South. Likewise, the Notes section on page 204 (which I found to be very helpful in interpreting the text, especially the sharks in Chapter 1!) points to the fact that while much of the story is fictional, it also portrays an accurate depiction of the treatment of slaves.
Later in Sections 2 and 3, the incorporation of text from “The Confessions of Nat Turner”, along with the smaller pictures of the various homes attacked during the rebellion, gives the novel a much more historical feel. But here, Baker’s exaggerated artistic style, and his continued depiction of the violence in such an over-the-top manner makes me think he wants his readers to question the historical reliability of his text. I’m not sure if others had this reaction to the violence in the novel, but the scenes of decapitation and severed limbs become so prevalent that, for me, they almost disarm the real violence of the rebellion (especially pg. 135, where the boy’s head is flying through the air with a smile still on his face). In fact the visual depiction of some of the characters is so cartoonish that it creates a sense of artificiality; which seems to be the exact opposite of Spiegelman’s approach in Maus.
Kristine you raise an interesting point in your post, and it may be that Baker wants to visually explore the conflict between history and fiction to make a larger commentary on the unreliability of what we view to be history. Maybe Baker chose his exaggerated visual style because it’s what he knows best, but by interpreting Nat’s story in a graphic novel form, hopefully he has helped to some greater extent to ensure this portion of American history is not forgotten.
Yes, I think the notes on page 204 are the strongest argument going for a fair discussion being present in Baker’s work. And yes, I am very well aware that when push comes to shove, there is a larger truth to this myth–that so many of the details Baker presents are entirely grounded on other, well-documented, horrendous incidents.
I’m afraid I wasn’t quite as disarmed as you were by the flying, smiling head! (chuckle).
I agree that the tension is strong throughout the novel, but I suggest that Baker does this as an attempt to illuminate racial differences. As readers we feel conflicted over how to negotiate Turner’s actions, first as a horrendous act of violence, but also as an illustration of what the institution of slavery can drive one to do. I think that Baker wants the readers to rethink how history is and has been shaped and interpreted. The graphic representation of slavery and the life of Turner stands outside of the white hegemonic norms that have dictated American history – no holding back or glancing over the brutal details (you have to look at those details because he does not hide them with words!). He frames from the dictation of Thomas Gray, a white, unbiased member of the ‘District’ where Turner’s rebellion took place, which as others stated seems to question the reliability of Gray and his representation while at the same time making me think that this is the way much of history has been written. We see this idea again on page 179 with the list of ‘persons murdered’ only listing the white people not any of the slaves who were killed or even arrested even though the novel focuses on the slaves and their acts. With page 179 Baker brings back the point that the transcription of the rebellion comes from the pen of Gray, not Turner – but also being true to the stripping of identities through slavery and that any identity given to a slave was with his master’s name, so only the white men’s names needed to be listed. This page seems more important after reading through the entire confession and court documents and seeing the list of the slave men’s names listed, so the names are public knowledge yet Baker did not include them.
The preface hints at the importance of literacy, but I think that along with literacy comes the importance and problems of interpretation. As readers we bring a lot to a novel when reading it and the same has occurred with the shaping of history, so I think that Baker does want his novel to be conflicting in its conclusion because that makes us active participants in the novel and history itself. All sides of the interpretation have valid points, but it is recognizing all sides of the history and interpretation that is important.
I don’t know…I just don’t see an ambiguous conclusion at all. Maybe i’m quite simple, but I think most people today come prepared with the knowledge that Nat Turner’s actions were not heroic and while they did inspire others, it’s a far cry to put Turner’s actions into the amicable light. Reliability of Gray’s account…ummm, don’t care. Direct account from Nat Turner himself preferred? Not by me. I just can’t see a conflicting conclusion here and don’t see how anyone can be a participant in history. We see and interpret the facts as best as we can, provided the facts are accurate (and here we are afforded with the luxury of having a streamlined case), and we create an interpretation of the account as best we can. Now, what do we know? Nat Turner was a slave. We’re talking about an institution responsible for more than 10 million lives (number of lives shipped to America), of which more than 4 million were accurately recorded in the States. So there is nothing “unique” as to Nat Turner’s slavery. We also know that slavery was an abhorrent evil that should have been abolished long before it’s due and we also know that Nat Turner was responsible for a murderous rebellion. So he was religious? Still a murderer; and when did religion absolve the acts of murder? The man was free for a month; could he not find a different enterprise of which to affect change? Alas, all these questions are dead in the face of a past that has already happened.
Nat Turner was a slave who decided to murder as many caucasians as he could; nothing heroic about it. Someone please tell me what is conflicting in that?
Josh:
First off, I’m glad you brought up how Baker’s admiration for Turner is connected with Turner’s influence on Frederick Douglas in particular. I think bringing Douglas into the picture illustrates how there IS ambiguity lurking in the shadows of this text. In many ways, he was the Anti-Turner. Like Turner, Douglas empowered himself through literacy and education, but he used that power to fight injustice in a completely different way. Malcolm X, whom Baker also brings up, is on the opposite side of the spectrum with Turner.
Second, I’m also glad you mentioned the “truth to the myth” because I have to disagree with a lot of what’s been said about Baker’s book criticizing the historical validity of Gray’s account. Yes, Gray may be biased, but I don’t think that’s an important thread in the comic at all. Kristine, I DO think Baker is, in effect, “simply telling the story of Nat Turner,” but that doesn’t make it a history book. Why does any one write historical fiction? Usually to explore the characters and the events. I don’t think there’s good evidence that this is a metahistorical critique or an unreliable narrator situation. Much of what occurs in the novel undeniably happened. Those escaped slaves murdered all those people.
Baker’s telling this story in his own way, in a new medium, and his methods emphasize and extract certain themes. For instance, the halo bit isn’t a caricature of Gray’s bias – Gray presents an ostensibly neutral front with tinges of horror at the events and at Turner’s supposedly stoic attitude. I definitely don’t think he believes Gray to be a saint. That’s Baker. The scenes with his mother, the shark, and all the other fictional additions are Baker too. The depictions of the murders are Baker’s extrapolations of incontrovertible fact.
To me, the question is not “why did Baker bother to tell this story,” but “why did he choose the fictional incidents he did, and why did he illustrate the actual events the way he did?” I have my own feelings about it, and I’m sure you guys do too. I guess we can hash them out in class :-)
Jay, I’m glad you brought up Frederick Douglass, and I wish I would have thought to have mentioned him in class tonight. In fact, by the 1850s, Douglass was—and this will be a surprise to most people—in favor of armed insurrection against slaveholders. Douglass was in fact close friends with John Brown. Very close friends. So much that after the Harper’s Ferry raid went down in 1859, Douglass left the country for fear of persecution.
Yes. And Douglass, incidentally, is an even stronger argument for Baker’s supposed literacy argument.
It’s interesting, I think most people today are pretty sympathetic to the idea of a slave rebellion/insurrection.
I suppose it’s the whole-scale massacre of relatively (and I use that word somewhat loosely) innocent people/children and the descent into chaos that seems distasteful.
On a somewhat related note, I haven’t seen Tarantino’s “Inglourious Basterds,” but throughout NT, I couldn’t help but compare what I’ve heard about the closing scene of that movie with what Baker is doing graphically in NT. Obviously, one is complete fiction and one isn’t, but I think the desire to read agency and power into history isn’t that dissimilar. Thoughts?