Jon Cruz fulfills his argument by bringing the slave song back to a point of singularity, a creative subject, then applies inductive reasoning by subverting the subject-object binary opposition representative of Foucault's Order of Things and building a larger theoretical construct wherein the subject regains power of his creations, African Americans over their songs. I would like to extend Cruz's analysis of Frederick Douglass' Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass in a return to a major portion of his theoretical material. Douglass writes, "Then they would sing most exultingly the following words: 'I am going away to the Great House Farm! O, yea! O, yea! O!' This they would sing, as a chorus, to words which would seem to many would seam unmeaning jargon, but which, nevertheless, were full of meaning to themselves" (19). Then, over the years--through abolitionism and ethnosympathy--understanding their "authenticity" emerged within a dominant hegemonic Protestant order"(Cruz 121). By the end of his project, we understand that "black song making, particularly the spiritual, was at the very core of the rise of the cultural interpretations that grew from [the] juncture" of the "crisis of modernity, the legacy of politics, the conundrum of race, the interpretations of cultures, and the manner in which these transect one another" (199).
In contemporary history, however, the film O Brother, Where Art Though and bluegrass-country singer Alison Krauss have popularized a song called "Down to the River to Pray." But the can be traced back to 1867, in a collection of music, Slave Songs of the United States, edited by William Francis Allen (a white Unitarian minister and scholar from Massachusetts), in which Allen writes, "Conscious of many imperfections in this, the result of not inconsiderable joint labor for nearly a year, the Editors submit it, nevertheless, to the public judgement, in the belief that it will be pronounced deserving of even greater pains and permanent preservation" (xxxvii). When a Mr. G.H. Allan--according to the notes--wrote the song, it was called "The Good Old Way," and the lyrics were as follows:
As I went down in de valley to pray, Studying about dat
good old way, When you shall wear de starry crown, Good Lord,
show me de way. O mourner, let's go down, let's go down, let's go down,
O mourner, let's go down, down in de valley to pray. (84)
And by the time Allison Krauss (from Illinois) does her version, the lyrics have become:
As I went down in the river to pray, Studying about that
good ol' way, And who shall wear the starry crown? Good Lord,
show me the way! O sisters let's go down, Let's go down, come on down
O sisters let's go down, Down in the river to pray
In some respect, Allen's desire to retain the permanence of the slave songs has been fulfilled, and the changes may have been slight: "valley" for "river," "you" for "who," "mourner" for "sisters," but the former lyrics are born out of sorrow, while the latter from redemption. It's possible these songs have simply been assimilated into the old northern white Christian culture to support and uplift the slave song, bringing it and its creators into prosperity. But we seem to lose the creator as subject, especially during the movie, where the song takes place in the backdrop of a white Christian baptismal service in a river, where a valley has tremendously different implications. This ceremony does function as a mode of cleansing, as "Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. And the song is beautiful, spiritual, and positive. The songs of the slave, however, represent the sorrows of his heart; he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears" (20). The expressive shift of the baptism performs the same personal function for the sinner, but the newer version of the song and the film's adaptation of its circumstances remove the creator-subject and perform the same cultural malfeasance that destroys the authenticity of the source's identity and habitus, and reverses the intended emotional content.
In contemporary history, however, the film O Brother, Where Art Though and bluegrass-country singer Alison Krauss have popularized a song called "Down to the River to Pray." But the can be traced back to 1867, in a collection of music, Slave Songs of the United States, edited by William Francis Allen (a white Unitarian minister and scholar from Massachusetts), in which Allen writes, "Conscious of many imperfections in this, the result of not inconsiderable joint labor for nearly a year, the Editors submit it, nevertheless, to the public judgement, in the belief that it will be pronounced deserving of even greater pains and permanent preservation" (xxxvii). When a Mr. G.H. Allan--according to the notes--wrote the song, it was called "The Good Old Way," and the lyrics were as follows:
As I went down in de valley to pray, Studying about dat
good old way, When you shall wear de starry crown, Good Lord,
show me de way. O mourner, let's go down, let's go down, let's go down,
O mourner, let's go down, down in de valley to pray. (84)
And by the time Allison Krauss (from Illinois) does her version, the lyrics have become:
As I went down in the river to pray, Studying about that
good ol' way, And who shall wear the starry crown? Good Lord,
show me the way! O sisters let's go down, Let's go down, come on down
O sisters let's go down, Down in the river to pray
In some respect, Allen's desire to retain the permanence of the slave songs has been fulfilled, and the changes may have been slight: "valley" for "river," "you" for "who," "mourner" for "sisters," but the former lyrics are born out of sorrow, while the latter from redemption. It's possible these songs have simply been assimilated into the old northern white Christian culture to support and uplift the slave song, bringing it and its creators into prosperity. But we seem to lose the creator as subject, especially during the movie, where the song takes place in the backdrop of a white Christian baptismal service in a river, where a valley has tremendously different implications. This ceremony does function as a mode of cleansing, as "Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. And the song is beautiful, spiritual, and positive. The songs of the slave, however, represent the sorrows of his heart; he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears" (20). The expressive shift of the baptism performs the same personal function for the sinner, but the newer version of the song and the film's adaptation of its circumstances remove the creator-subject and perform the same cultural malfeasance that destroys the authenticity of the source's identity and habitus, and reverses the intended emotional content.
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