Race, Masculinity, and Power in The Marrow of Tradition

Janika Carey

            The literature of the mid- to late nineteenth century in America focused heavily on the issues of race, class, and gender. With the emergence of a middle class and the possibility of class mobility, as well as with the end of slavery and the demand for women’s rights arose multiple issues that threatened old hierarchical traditions. Set in North Carolina after the period of Reconstruction, Charles W. Chesnutt's novel The Marrow of Tradition shows the close connections between race, class and masculinity, revealing how the system of slavery (as a central part of Southern hierarchical traditions) and the notion of white masculinity were co-dependent and thus constituted each other. Chesnutt describes the decline of this relationship, and proposes an understanding of manhood that is moving away from gender and race hierarchy, towards more equality between the parties. 

            The Marrow of Tradition offers different interpretations and stereotypes of manhood across the two races. The book begins with the birth of Theodore Felix, the only son of Major Carteret. During this first chapter, the reader becomes acquainted with the major’s deepest fears and desires regarding his family name. Being the “last of his line” (Chesnutt 1) after his family--and with it, notions of entitlement and hierarchy--has been “ruined” by the Civil War, Carteret wants nothing more than an heir to not only carry on his name, but also to revive traditions that seem to have become relics of a distant past: “His regret had been more than personal at the thought that with himself an old name should be lost to the State; and now [that his son is born] all the pride of race, class, and family welled up anew, and swelled and quickened the current of his life” (18).

             Carteret himself has suffered greatly from the loss of his family, and only his marriage to the wealthy Olivia Merkell can secure his position in society. Not only is it her money which helped him found the local newspaper, but it is also her house they live in (1). So, from the start, Chesnutt reveals that the major is painfully dependent on his wife: she is the one who secures him financially and professionally, and it depends on her whether he will have a son. All of these things, but especially the latter, are at the core of Carteret's sense of masculinity, and it is extremely ironic that this manhood very much depends on his wife. Chesnutt uses Carteret as a representative of the Southern man and the idea that manhood is defined by superiority and power over those who are weaker: Without a woman to rule over (but in truth, to depend on), there can be no strong masculinity, and without slaves to control (and to rely on!), what can a man do to 'prove he is a man'? Therefore, with the end of slavery and the establishment of a new social order, the major fears he is losing authority; he has trouble adapting to this new society that is not founded on white, male superiority anymore, but is moving increasingly towards race and class equality: the static system of class is suddenly disrupted by mobility.

            While Carteret's loss of authority is reflected in the domestic sphere of his marriage through his dependence on Olivia, it is even more apparent in the outside world of Wellington: some thirty years after the end of slavery, Carteret sees himself confronted with a majority of black people who are slowly moving into previously white territory (19). Though many of the older generation of former slaves remain loyal to their “masters” and accept their inferiority as god-given (for example Mammy Jane (28) and Jerry (56)), the younger generation is seeking equality through education and refuses to be governed by white people (27).

            Chesnutt creates a variety of characters to embody the different ways and stages of this development, and to illustrate the various kinds of manhood: On the one hand, there is the highly sophisticated Dr. Miller, who has founded the first hospital for black people in Wellington, distinguishing himself both visually as well as verbally from common notions of the uneducated black man, which Chesnutt illustrates by comparing him to the white Dr. Burns: “[B]oth seemed from their faces and their manners to be men of culture and accustomed to the society of cultivated people” (32).  Embodying the late nineteenth century term of the “New Negro,” Miller is the stereotypical example of African-American emancipation: educated, elegant, and eloquent. However, the doctor is rather a conformist and does not ‘stand his man’ when it comes to conflicts with white people and their laws (35). While trying to reform the system peacefully, Dr. Miller is not willing to forcefully revolutionize it. This is dramatically emphasized when during the riot, he does not interfere to stop the massacre of his people, but instead advises those who are fighting to “[k]eep quiet...and trust in God” (182).

             A rather different kind of emancipation is manifested in the character of Josh Green, who has sworn to take revenge for the murder committed against his father (72). Though not very educated, Josh is certainly courageous and not afraid to lose his life in order to gain justice. He represents the more violent, very physical side of black resistance and power that evolved out of the lower class, thus embodying a very aggressive type of masculinity. It is interesting that, while Chesnutt seems to sympathize with Josh's character, granting him the truly compelling lines in this novel (“I'd ruther be a dead nigger any day dan a live dog!” (184)), Josh is the one who is killed at the end of the book.

             While this is a logical result of his actions (most notably, killing McBane), Josh's death is also indicative of Chesnutt's rejection of raw violence, and more specifically, of masculinity as being defined by mere physical power. It could be argued that Josh's interpretation of masculinity is just a version of the (negative) white masculinity promoted by Captain McBane (and others), because it is based on exerting power over others through violence. What prevails at the end, however, is not the murderous force of revenge, but the gentle power of compassion, symbolized by Dr. Miller and his wife.

             Besides illustrating different types of  (black) men, Chesnutt also portrays the difference in class among black people. Dr. Miller, for example, is so far detached from the lower class that we almost forget he is one of the black characters. When he is forced to ride in the “colored” coach on his train ride to Wellington, Miller is appalled by the noisy crowd of uneducated black people, who “were just as offensive to him as to the whites in the other end of the train” (39).

            While Miller is one of those examples of black upward mobility that Carteret and his companions, General Belmont and Captain McBane (“The Big Three”), fear, because he disrupts the Southern hierarchy, there is something else which equally threatens white male authority: An editorial in the local black newspaper criticizes the lynching of black men who have been accused of raping white women, arguing that in many cases, the women engaged in the sexual relationship voluntarily (54-55).

            There are several points here that upset the white supremacists. First of all, they are offended by the fact that a black person has the power to speak up and criticize their system; as McBane puts it, “Truth or not, no damn nigger has any right to say it” (55). Secondly, they feel threatened in their masculinity by black men taking over their position as white women's lovers (or rapists; it does not really matter), although they disguise this as an offense against “white womanhood” (161). As mentioned above, white masculinity in this novel, and historically, is primarily founded on control, and sexual control is an essential part of it. Women in the nineteenth century were not only “possessions” through which men established their status, they were also sexual objects.  Therefore, when, as the editorial suggests, black men have sexual intercourse with white women, they indirectly assume the role of white men. But in asserting that white women actively seek interracial relationships, the article contains an even bigger threat to the “Big Three:” White women at the time were supposed to be pure, vulnerable, and passive; they were not expected to act out desires that were reserved entirely for the white men. This double standard was manifested in the socially accepted sexual relationships between white slave holders and their black slaves, and made visible in their mixed-race children (for instance Janet). The fact that quite often, the slaves were actually raped by their masters did not make it any more disagreeable; after all, rape committed by the superior race (or sex) is never considered an offense, but just a legitimate means of demonstrating power.

            Therefore, the idea of interracial relationships between black men and white women threatened the very foundations of male power in the South on several levels, not only with regard to the white men's control over black people, but also over their own women. Purity here is not only important considering the expected sexual innocence of white women, but also in terms of blood. Carteret, Belmont, and McBane are hysterical that their pure, white race will die out. Trying to protect their 'vulnerable' masculinity, they join forces to campaign for white supremacy and purity, using Carteret's newspaper as an instrument for their racist propaganda. Closely related to the protection of white blood is Carteret's motive to secure a future for his son, so that his family name will not become extinct: “Carteret hoped to vindicate the supremacy of his race, and make the state fit for his son to live in.” (59).

             But although the three share similar goals, they differ from each other in class rank, as well as in character. While Carteret and Belmont represent the stereotypes of Southern aristocratic “gentlemen” who seek to defend their traditions by making others do the dirty work for them, McBane is the one who does just that (22). Having worked his way up from the lower class (coming from an overseer's family), the other two do not consider him in the same class. McBane very much embodies the dark, violent side of them; while their masculinity derives from titles and tradition, McBane's “manhood” is defined by brutal force. In a way, McBane represents the savage inside of them; he is the bluntly immoral core behind their “moral” facade of manners and values.

            One of the central characters in the novel, Tom Delamere, is also an aristocrat and a so-called gentleman, but in reality he represents the degeneration of his class, as Ellis rightly notices (61). Disregarding any of the old traditions, except for white supremacy, Tom has a very weak character, which is underlined by his appearance: “It conveyed no impression of strength, but did possess a certain element, feline rather than feminine, which subtly negatived the idea of manliness” (10; emphasis added). Having nothing but his name to show, Tom indulges in gambling and drinking, sinking so far that he has to borrow money from his uncle's black servant Sandy: “He had reached that degree of moral deterioration where, while principles were of little moment, the externals of social intercourse possessed an exaggerated importance...There was no lower depth to which Tom could sink” (104). Later, Tom impersonates Sandy when stealing Mrs. Ochiltree's money and accidentally killing her. Employing Tom and Sandy as doubles (emphasized when one is mistaken for the other), Chesnutt further reveals Tom's unmanly, immoral character. In contrast to Tom, Sandy is willing to die for the family honor (136); his sacrifice is of biblical dimensions and thus so unrealistically far removed from human weakness, that the reader is even more aware of Tom's failures. In fact, Chesnutt shows that Sandy is much more of a true Southern gentleman than Tom could ever be, and thus, more of a man. Tom symbolizes the future of Southern aristocracy, and Chesnutt clearly demonstrates that it is not a bright one.

            Other hints at this decline of the old hierarchy run throughout the novel, for example when Theodore Felix nearly chokes on the piece of a rattle that belongs to the family heritage (29), or in the aristocratic, racist Mrs. Ochiltree's slow decay and final death. Similarly, McBane, the ultimate symbol of white, male violence, is killed by Josh.  But there is also a part of the Southern tradition that is truly honorable, which is symbolized by old Delamere and his incredible sense of justice: freeing his innocent black servant while delivering the true murderer, who is his own grandson (147). Delamere, as Sandy, represents the ideal Southern gentleman, but he, too, has to die, because times are changing.

            While white people like Carteret blame the increasing decline of their traditions on African-Americans and their ambitions to better themselves, Chesnutt reveals that it is actually the white people who are destroying their own culture. In fact, while black people are gaining power (either educationally, as with Dr. Miller or lawyer Watson; or physically, as shown by the example of Josh) and therefore becoming, in a sense, more 'manly,' the white race seems to regress more and more. Tom is the most obvious example of this development. His immoral, ungentlemanly (and therefore, unmanly) behavior is a rather passive way of disregarding honor and tradition, but robbing and accidentally killing Mrs. Ochiltree mark the final fall from grace. Tom not only stains his Southern heritage, he literally murders it.

            In a different way, the latent desire for sexual authority in white women, though not present in Wellington itself, but through the newspaper editorial, also de-constructs traditional Southern values. This time it is directed at, and disruptive of, the all-controlling power of white men over women.   Besides destabilizing the traditional hierarchy between male and female in this subtle way, the (feared) sexual emancipation of white women contains a far more practical threat to Southern values, namely through interracial relationships and the birth of mixed-race children to white women. This poses a serious danger to the social and moral integrity of the traditional white family.  Thus, Chesnutt shows that the 'threat' is really coming from within, not without the white community.

            Although the Millers, example of black emancipation, have lost their only son, which could be interpreted as the loss of their future and the future of their race, the ending gives hope for improvement, and for a future in which blacks and whites will encounter each other on more equal grounds. Chesnutt demands a redefinition of masculinity, proving that traditional notions of white male power cannot be valid anymore. Using a black woman to show the dependence of this type of manhood on racial and gender hierarchy, Chesnutt reveals not only that white masculine power is not nearly as powerful as assumed, but also that it is a system that needs to be abandoned, in exchange for a more equal relationship between the two races (and sexes) that is marked by mutual understanding and forgiveness, not violence and hatred.