The Remixing of Language
Language is an important part of human culture – this line has greeted many a reader to a high-school-level exam essay – but the fact is, culture cannot survive without a language of some sort, and in this way it might be simplest to say that language is culture, making for disappointing moments when a popular work of science fiction does not remember and exploit this to its fullest. It goes without saying, then, that language is an especially important thing to have in mind when discussing or writing an Afrofuturism sort of text, and that, in theory, everything should follow from it. To use Kodwo Eshun's words, cut for space:
“Afrofuturism may be characterized as a program for recovering the histories of counter-futures created in a
century hostile to Afrodiasporic projection and as a space within which the critical work of manufacturing
tools capable of intervention within the current political dispensation may be undertaken.” (Eshun 301)
Of course, “tools” here can only be quickly explained as “things by which to manipulate ideas and their distribution” – with “manipulate” being in the very literal sense and encompassing both the complimentary and pejorative usages, and “ideas” being just about anything that can arguably fall under the phrase “intellectual property”. In short, the “tools” he refers to can be just about anything that can be said, sung, written, composed, copied/appropriated, and in certain cases thought, among other things – Eshun's “tools” are a means by which communication of ideas with a constructive purpose1 can occur. Language obviously falls under these categories, but as my convoluted way of coming to this point has hopefully made clear, to simply ask how language works inside of Afrofuturism on its own would be (somewhat) selfishly limited in scope, as the movement, or “program” as he refers to it, may be thought of as2 essentially being an Afrocentric offshoot of futurism, itself an offshoot of Science Fiction – in the sense that futurism tends to work best in the realm of Sci-fi and the possible. Thus, it is better to ask questions of Afrofuturism (a topic-system relatively small in scale) as it relates to language (a mind-bogglingly vast topic for a non-linguist), rather than the other way around. Switching gears slightly, the most important question one can ask with all this in mind, of course, is a reply to Audre Lorde's comment, that massa's tools will never dismantle massa's house (Hopkinson 7).
Before going any further, the idea of a “hybrid language” must be either struck down or further explained. Under one way of thinking, “hybrid language” is obviously a good way to describe a language that has evolved from the contact between, let's say, two “parent” languages – and under another way, it is an oxymoron. The idea basically is, to have a hybrid of something, the original parents must be clearly defined, and while this works on paper for a number of things that can be clearly defined, it does not work as cleanly for something as nebulous as a language. To keep things more or less simple, English will be the example3 here, and the thought experiment here will be research-paper simple – that is, very simple in scope, to the point that we will ignore the effects of race for the time being. Let us say that, Parents (A) and (B) both speak a particular dialect4 and that their Child (ab) grows up learning to speak a hybrid of that language. Given the way the public school system works in America, (ab) will probably be taught in American English – but will hear around her whatever regional dialect/accent is prevalent in the area. As she grows up, she will, unless she takes specific steps to speak otherwise, speak and write in a “peculiar” way – let us say that she uses her verbs in a particular way that would, to some outsiders, seem a bit odd – but will otherwise stay within the certain boundaries of American English. Assuming that she has the good sense not to go into linguistics in college, she goes about her life not really noticing the difference, and then has two children with a guy named (cd). These children cannot possibly both be (abcd), for two reasons. First, they would have to grow up in the exact same environments, under the exact same conditions, and come out to be exactly the same as far as their minds are concerned – anyone with more than one child knows that this, for all intents and purposes, simply never happens, although if it did it would make gift-giving much easier. Second – and this comes from the first – they would both have to speak the exact same language, the exact same dialect and accent of American English. This would require not only the exact same life experiences – friends, preferences in TV, music, lifestyles, literature, games, courseload when it becomes relevant, and so on, but mostly the sorts of things that both the child and the parents do not have complete control over under reasonable circumstances – but the same awareness of their language and how they use it. As the first is impossible, the second is as well – there will always be a minute difference somewhere in their lives, and so there will always be some minute difference somewhere in their language. Now take the second half of this situation, multiply it by the current number of families in America alone, keeping in mind the restrictions of a “local language”, and suddenly the word “hybrid” does not quite account for the fact that there are many hybrids coming out from all walks of life. Now toss the concept of race back into the experiment like a pin-less grenade – we didn't consider it, remember? – and attempt to come to the conclusion that a cacophony can be tuned. Finally, and for more entertainment, apply it to all English-speaking families on Earth, or write a book about it that confuses Samuel Delany. As this simplified and possibly flawed thought experiment should show – considering that English isn't even the most widely-spoken language, for example – everyone has a different set of Eshun's “tools” that are only similar in broad terms, that they are all “tools”.
But back to the “real” topic: Audre Lorde, who once stated that “massa's tools will never dismantle massa's house” (Hopkinson 7). There are a few ways to answer it, and for the most part, Nalo Hopkinson sums up the question by noting two answers: the tools themselves are in the public domain and now anyone with the skill can build a house, or they have been re-appropriated for other uses and so the size and style of the houses that pop up in the neighborhood no longer matters (Hopkinson 8). They are not mutual exclusive overall, but there is a small error here: note that neither actually solves the main problem of a house that, in the opinion of some, needs dismantling. This is actually a very silly question to ask at all – if “massa's tools” happen to be the best for the job, or are considered to be the best for the job, from a house-dismantling perspective this question wouldn't come up in the first place. But it has. This means that “massa's tools” cannot be the best for the job of taking the house and reducing it to not-house status – if it isn't “true”, it has to be “false” and not “maybe”, the latter of which isn't an option in a True-or-False question. As anything that can make can also be used to unmake – a hammer can drive in a nail, or break apart the two-by-four around it with some work – the question is really more of how one might go about it. In terms of construction, time and effort is spent to make something well, but most demolition jobs do not even reuse the same tools and are more likely to involve large tractor-driven hunks of metal with pistons or some explosive materials designed to very efficiently break things apart5, more so than the hammer. However – and the two answers Hopkinson gives are only possible with an awareness of this – there is little point in tearing something apart if it still has productive use, and as unpleasant as the phrasing of the metaphor is, “massa's house” and “massa's tools” are not without use. If the house is read to be the body of work produced by the language of the “massa”, then there is no problem at all with reusing the house in some way, as the “tools” here cannot be discussed in any fashion without an understanding of them – the problem lies in the understanding. While a description along the lines of “hammer goes whack” would be the simple, quick-and-dirty understanding of how the one particular tool is to be used, in the wrong context it might invite accusations of insensitivity – but it is an accurate foundation on which to build an understanding of how it can be used, and how other tools can work in conjunction with it. Gradually creating from scratch an understanding of how everything in the toolbox works and interacts with the building materials – which would be along the lines of experiences, dialogue, and other things the reader actually sees on a book page – the newly-minted builder finds that he or she is inside the house, figuring out how it all comes together. From there, it is a simple action of dropping “massa's tools”, running to the empty lot next door where the new builder's “tools” are, and building a new house – maybe not getting it right the first time, but eventually.
Aside from the poor-but-accurate choice of metaphor, there is something else wrong with the metaphor of dismantling a house with tools, or rather, it implies something that is more disturbing than the idea of “massa's house” by itself. The exact wording of the first answer Hopkinson gave6 was:
“He looked over at me and said (I'm paraphrasing), “We've been taught all out lives how superior European
literature is. In our schools, it's what we're instructed to read, to analyze, to understand, how we're taught to
think. They gave us those tools. I think that now, they're our tools, too.” (Hopkinson 8)
This ought to bring many things to mind, anywhere from the idea of forcing one culture to assimilate by disallowing education in the native or local language – basically, the not-the-colonizers' language – to a conservative school board with an irritatingly low budget for new books and no tolerance for controversial ones. In any case, it hints at censorship. Censorship in itself is not always a bad thing, in the same way that a five-year-old should probably not have access to an actual hammer and breakable things. But after it has been allowed to creep up past a certain point, it becomes a problem, and intellectuals everywhere bear arms of ink. There is a moment in the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine episode “Far Beyond The Stars” where Comdr. Benjamin Sisko faces it – for most of the episode, he finds himself as a black writer, ending with his story of a Black spaceship captain rejected even after changes – and refuses to give up his idea nonetheless. But a better, perhaps even frightening example would be the “authenticity rules” in Evie Shockley's “Separation Anxiety”, which are exactly as they sound – rules designed to keep protagonist [P]eaches' preferred form of art, dance, “authentic” and “black”. In her words: “all these authenticity rules! gotta have eighty percent historical content in each program. can't change not a step in performing some nineteenth or twentieth century dance. it's like we're fossils, walking around.” (Shockley 60) Specifically, if dance – a somewhat minor “tool” in the toolbox, all things considered – can only be performed in a specific way, what's to say that other, more widely used “tools”, are not under similar controls? Nothing – it isn't confirmed or denied, and the only hint of this possibility is in her pluralization of “authenticity rules”, which could quite easily be referring to something else. There is some irony here, in that they have absolutely nothing to do with “massa's house” and “massa's tools” in the “ghetto” and are using their own “tools” – but aren't allowed to change the “house” too much, or else something happens. That [P]eaches is the only one to really complain about it is also bothering, but there is only so much that can be read into.
If censorship is one way to keep certain “tools” from ever getting anything new done, what would be another way? Assuming the materials and the tools cannot be destroyed or intercepted7, the only other option would be to remove the builder – and that is where Derrick Bell's “The Space Traders” comes in. Since simply publicly killing all users of a particular “tool” would usually be fairly illegal under most America laws, the solution would be to accept a trade for them all, from aliens who speak in the “familiar comforting tones of former President Reagan” (Bell 327) – for some reason, this never sets off alarm bells in anyone. (Why Reagan? The simplest answer, from a writer's perspective, is that he was the most recent President at the time of writing.) It should have been cause of great worry from the American perspective in the story, as it would mean that the Space Traders knew a great deal about them without explaining why - “sinister” is not strong enough a word – and, in a more ironic sense, likely have better-established “tools”. Regardless, in the end – and despite all sorts of effort to prevent it – virtually all Black citizens of America are forced to leave with the Space Traders. Various “tools” are employed, but the right ones evidentially were not – Golightly, the current President's “unofficial black cabinet member” (Bell 330) attempts to suggest that they all pull a “trickster” on the rest of the population, but it does not go through the wall of prideful integrity at the “Anti-Trade Coalition” (Bell 342). There is no conformation that careful and judicious use of language would have turned the tide, but Golightly gets the last laugh, sort of:
“ “I wonder,” he murmured, half to himself, half to his wife, as they rode in a luxury limousine sent, in some
irony, by the Secretary of the Interior to convey them to the nearest roundup point, “how my high-minded
brothers at the conference feel now about their decision to fail with integrity rather than stoop to the bit of
trickery that might have saved them.” ” (Bell 354)8
If there is something to be learned from this, it is that it is probably better to carefully compare “houses” before committing to one – pay less attention to the craftsmanship and builder than the location and safety of it.
As mentioned before, “hybrid” is not the best word to use when referring to languages, and a “tools and houses” metaphor for expression in one is not foolproof – most of the preceding two paragraphs is an excellent example of this. Despite its simplicity, it actually is a difficult question to answer, as it is possible to both agree and disagree with it depending on what context it is placed in. The best to answer it, as hopefully shown, is to not assume that the answers are limited to a simple yes or no, but to remember that there are two components to it: the end and the means, the actual expression and the roads that actually lead to it. There are really three answers, in this case, wherein one or the other is more important, or they are both of equal importance. In other words, “massa's house” (the body of literature) can be kept while the “tools” are destroyed and a new “house” is built across the street, or “massa's tools” (the methods which can be used to create it) can be kept and used to dismantle the “house” while another is built across the street, or both can be kept while another “house” is built across the street. It almost does not matter, as another house is eventually going to get built anyway – the only difference is whether there will even be a neighbor, an annoyed neighbor, or a neighbor who comes by twice a week to the new house to study and criticize it for years until it is accepted.
At any rate, “hybrid” is not the proper word to attach to “tools”, but in keeping with Eshun's attention to the sonic medium, perhaps “remixed” might make more sense when the “tools” are language. It certainly seems to fit within the boundaries of Afrofuturism.
Works Cited:
Bell, Derrick. “The Space Traders.” Dark Matter. Ed. Sheree R. Thomas. Aspect, 2001. 326-355.
Eshun, Kodwo. “Further Considerations on Afrofuturism.” CR: The New Centennial Review 3.2
2003. 287-302. University of Washington, Seattle, WA. 27 Mar. 2007
<http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/new_centennial_review/v003/3.2eshun.html>
“Far Beyond The Stars.” Writ. Ira Steven Behr and Hans Beimler. Perf. Avery Brooks. Star Trek: Deep Space
Nine. 2 Feb. 1998
Hopkinson, Nalo. “Introduction.” So Long Been Dreaming: Post-Colonial Science Fiction. Ed. Nalo Hopkinson,
Uppinder Mehan. Arsenal Pulp Press, 2004. 7-9.
Shockley, Evie. “Separation Anxiety.” Dark Matter. Ed. Sheree R. Thomas. Aspect, 2001. 51-68.
1A debatable way of putting it: simply imagining a world in which everyone is Black will not do it along
2This is a highly limited reading, of course, but to keep a longish paper under control, it will do.
3English, lacking a governing body as a language, is notoriously unreliable in cases.
4Dialect refers to a particular syntax and vocab, often with its own accent (pronunciations) in practice.
5Related and fun, but ultimately pointless, example: in the original Transformers, the six “Constructicons” are each good at a particular construction job and transform from/into a related heavy vehicle – they build things. They can also combine into Devastator , who does exactly what his name implies, not uncommonly to things recently built by the Constructicons. It's like this, in a way.
6This person is described as a friend of Zainab Amadahy, and a recent recipient of a PhD. (Hopkinson 7).
7I'm sure they could, and that perfectly good books and movies have been written about forced memory loss...
8There is no question mark or tone – he likely expected it.
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