Reflecting on, Reframing, and Revising Approaches to Texts: Teaching M. NourbeSe Philip’s Zong!*, Again

As I sit here designing and prepping for a course I have not taught before, I reflect, as always, on previous texts, pairings, and themes I have used in the past. The course is Critical Thinking, Composition, and Literature; in other words, the choices for texts and critical approaches are endless. Its course aims also align with a writing about literature course I have taught in the past. My initial thoughts go to that course and the current historical moment where language is being stripped of meaning by political figures with more vigor than ever before, though definitely not a new practice.

This past December, I took part in a short series of posts about treating literature as political where I reflected on my approach to teaching generally and my approach to teaching Charles Chesnutt’s The Marrow of Tradition. Chesnutt was an easy way into that conversation because he provides a traditionally structured fictional narrative that is specifically depicting government corruption while illuminating racially motivated shortcomings in journalism. I am not suggesting that Chesnutt’s novel is in anyway simple; my students struggled with it for a variety of reasons. It is a text that students can open and tangibly point to a passage they deem political. This is not the case with many pieces of literature. Their political elements may be harder to see or, in the case of writers like Ishmael Reed, may require a knowledge of historical events and cultural moments readers may not possess. Moving beyond the content, the political can also be present in the form. This creates distance between students and the political elements of form because there isn’t necessarily something explicit for students to point to as political.

For instance, what would you do when presented with this poem?

Screenshot (76)

Screenshot (77)

More importantly, what questions would you pose to students to help them enter this poem? (This is the opening poem to an experimental collection that gets increasingly difficult to decipher as it progresses.) Once students have entered the poem, how do we help them understand why the form is political? Helping students understand form as a political statement is not the same as telling them why form is a political statement. Showing students how form becomes political is the task.

I first taught, Tobago born, Canadian writer M. NourbeSe Philip a few years back in the same class I taught Chesnutt which was composed of both majors and non-majors. Her expeZong!rimental poetry collection Zong! (in which the above poem appears) was challenging for students, as I suspected it would be; it was, and still is, challenging for me. I don’t pretend to hold any answers to it which is part of what makes it so much fun for me to teach. This is also one of the purposes of the text: How do we make meaning out of the slave trade? There is something much more genuine when I don’t have a certain reading of a text to lead students through. The classroom discussions turned into a series of “what if” approaches as we played with the text. For those unfamiliar with Zong!, blogger Wandy Felicita provides a fairly succinct description of the text and its cultural/historical context and get yourself a copy.

My experience teaching Philip’s Zong! didn’t have any moments that would have made it into another edition of our teaching fails. ZongWhy fix it if it isn’t broke? Rethinking my approach to teaching the collection comes from a desire to get even more from the text than before. Last time, we only tackled “Os,” the literal bare bones of the collection. This time, I also want to move though the remaining sections “Sal” (salt), “Ventus” (wind), “Ratio” (rain), “Ferrum” (iron), and “Ebora.” It is also motivated by the fact that the summer course I am prepping meets three hours a day, four days a week. Thinking about how much further we can get when not limited to the 50 min class session fills me with vision. (In case you were wondering–because of course you were!–to the right is a an example of one of the 50 pages that make up “Ferrum.”)

Managing the Supplemental Materials

Philip includes supplemental materials at the end of the text: the court case decision, a glossary of terms, and excerpts from the diary she kept while writing the collection. Each of these pieces can be used as a tool to understanding her project. They provide insight and show the evolution of her work. Being an experimental text, however, can also lead to the over reliance on these supplemental materials. This over reliance combined with, or perhaps caused by, student anxiety surrounding experimental poetry results in students coming up with the same reading of every poem in the collection. Every discussion about every poem boils down to “Philip said she was doing X, well that is what this poem does.”

I appreciate the supplemental materials, but they serve as those little kid water wings that give parents and kids a false sense of security in swimming pools and, as trained swim instructors like myself adamantly argue, increase the risk of child drownings. Part of the work of teaching this text is convincing students to take those water wings off and swim without them. I don’t want to entirely disregard Philip’s framework for Zong!, so I respect her supplemental materials as I pull students away from them.

First, I use the supplemental materials to show why we shouldn’t rely on them so heavily. Philip’s approach to her project changed between the first section and the following ones because she was too limited. The first section is comprised solely of words that appeared in the one page court ruling on the case. By the second section, she has moved on, taking liberty to chop those words up and use any part of a word to construct new words. I suggest to my students that the same is true for us. The court case document was initially helpful for our understanding of the project of the collection, but after that, it becomes as much of a hindrance for our understanding as it did for Philip.

Second, I ask students questions that slowly pull them away from the supplemental materials. Here are a few from my series of leading questions:

A piece of the whole: I try to zoom students in by asking them to think about each poem serving a different purpose to get us to her main aim. “If her large project is about how language fails to articulate the atrocities aboard the Zong, the following court case, its disappearance from history, and the slave trade as a whole, what piece of that is represented in ‘Zong #[insert poem number here]’?”

“The Death of the Author”: While I don’t go quite as far as Barthes, I do encourage students to question our reliance on the author’s statements by asking them to assess her proposed goals. “Even though Philip tells us what she was trying to do, it doesn’t mean she has successfully done it. Let’s say we are arguing that a poem or the collection does something entirely different, what would that be?”

There are many other questions and ways of challenging student reliance on the supplemental materials. My experience is that students’ discomfort with the experimental nature of this collection will make them grab hold and not let go of anything that helps them make sense of it. This leads to a fun game I like to play with the poems.

The What if…? Game

The “What if…?” game is really about teaching students how to engage with experimental poetry. Here are some of our “What if…?”s:

The visual: We look at the poems and ask what the form or layout on the page encourages us to do with it. “In some of Philip’s Os poems there is a pull between line breaks and columns. What if we read the poem from top to bottom, as columns, instead of from left to right?” This approach still respects Philip’s project and challenges students to experiment as readers, similarly to Philip experimenting as a writer.

The aural: We play with voice. Going back to “Zong #1” pictured above. “What if there are multiple speakers to this poem? How does that change the impact of the poem? What if they are all saying this together at the same time? What if it is being said in rounds, like when little kids sing the ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ song?” As a class, we try various readings of the poem. We do this with many of the Os poems—often playing with the white space on the page, often changing the number of speakers, sometimes a call and response style.

The decisions we make in our “What if..?” empowers students and loosens their grip on the supplemental materials as they start forming their own understandings. We did this a few times, but teaching it again, I would do a lot more of this because of its success.

 Language and My Old and New Supplemental Materials

As I am returning to teach this text again, but for a course with slightly different aims, I am keeping many of my earlier practices as outlined above and bringing in some new pieces to help us get through some of our anxieties about experimental poetry.

When I previously taught this text, I had students work with The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database. We looked at some of the maps together to correct or filling blanks left from their previous education on the Middle Passage. I also asked them to explore some of the other features on the database and write a brief explanation of what they did and what they discovered. We also listened to Philip read from her collection.

Two additional texts I am bringing in as lenses for approaching Philip’s collection are Toni Morrison’s 1993 Nobel Prize speech and Audre Lorde’s Sister Outsider. Both of these get at the issues of language and form that my students struggled with. We will be starting with Morrison’s speech, and then we will move onto Lorde’s essay collection before beginning Zong! Morrison and Lorde will work to bring students into the conversation about the political in language use and forms of writing. In this way, they will come to Philip’s collection with a broader scope of where and how her work can be positioned in the African American literary tradition and among black women writers.

Unexpected, but Temporary Roadblock When Teaching Zong! to Majors

As I mentioned above, the course was comprised of majors and non-majors, roughly 1/3 majors to 2/3 non-majors (but there were a few who have since converted). I bring this up because it impacted my experience teaching the text. The experimentation with form pushed my English majors too much, and they hit a wall. They struggled to get anywhere with the poems. My non-majors, however, were ready to go wherever the collection and our discussions took us. Reflecting on this difference and the statements my majors did make, the opposing reactions to the collection came from a different knowledge base about poetry. My majors had begun taking the survey courses in early British and early American literature. They had much stricter rules for poetry and how to approach poems than their classmates. This disrupted their ability to meet Philip’s on her terms and manifested in a strong resistance to her work. Because it was so challenging and what they had previously learned about poetry did not prepare them to engage with her, they got mad and disqualified it as both poetry and worthy of study. We got through it, but it took a lot of challenging those previous assumptions and having them consider how we moved from 13th century writing style to what we have now in the 21st century: Experimentation!

*Note: This poetry collection came onto my radar in 2012 during my participation in a National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Institute, “Teaching African American Literature,” held at Penn State. My teaching approaches were inspired and developed from conversations about this text that took place during those three weeks.

San Francisco & Sui Sin Far’s Mrs. Spring Fragrance, Part One: Chinatown

IMG_0971I was in San Francisco recently, and as I was preparing for the trip I knew I would have a few days by myself to explore the city. As a good Americanist, I thought about some literary/historical activities that I could do. A few people suggested that I check out City Lights and some of the other Beat hangouts. I did this and found City Lights to be lovely. I also made about twenty “South of the Slot” references, which were not as interesting to anyone else as they were to me. What I really wanted to explore, though, were some outings which would might assist me in teaching. I took this trip right before school started, so I had lesson planning directly on my mind. I’m teaching stories from Sui Sin Far’s Mrs. Spring Fragrance this semester, and the idea occurred to me to visit Chinatown and the Asian Art Museum. Sui Sin Far was born in England and lived in New York, Montreal, Jamaica, and Boston. But she did make a ten year pitstop on the U.S. west coast—living in both Seattle and San Francisco—so I thought I found an apt time to think about her life, her stories, and some of the places she may have experienced.

In Part One, I will reflect on visiting Chinatown and teaching stories from Mrs. Spring Fragrance in conjunction with that visit. In Part Two, I will add my experience in the Asian Art Museum into the mix.

Chinatown is a popular destination in San Francisco if the other tourists walking the streets and taking pictures is any indication. What I was struck by in Chinatown was the intricate detail on the facades on many buildings and the juxtaposition of new and old materials, signs, and infrastructure. The piercing blue sky in the photos above is not intrinsic to Chinatown but certainly had a nice effect on the reds, greens, and golds of the streets.

I enjoyed my walk through Chinatown, but I did not really leave with any understanding into how going there might help me teach Sui Sin Far. Does visiting a place an author might have been really give you any insight into the person or their texts? I’m not sure going to the Mount, for example, would really tell me anything about Edith Wharton. But I would go to the Mount if presented with the opportunity, and I would pretend I was Willa Cather if I was in Red Cloud, so what are we seeking when we visit sites connected to literature?  In The Toast (RIP The Toast), Allison O’Toole writes that we want to know that the fiction we read is “connected to our real world in some way.” As I thought about that idea, I realized that it made sense in terms of my understanding of why I planned my trip as I did. Visiting a place where an author might have been takes their existence from the theoretical to the concrete. I don’t need to visit a place to know that Sui Sin Far existed, but maybe reflecting on that place could help me and then my students draw connections between the world she presents us in her fiction and the contemporary world of our existence.

The University of Minnesota Voices from the Gaps profile of Far says that “Sui Sin Far’s literary projects examined issues of hybridity, institutional racism and sexism,” and thinking about that conception of her writing in relation to visiting San Francisco, I wonder if it is also important to bear witness to places connected to marginalized groups of people. By this I mean, that writers from dominant groups live in spaces that present themselves constantly in our imaginations. I don’t need to visit Key West to understand how Hemingway might have lived there, but seeking out Sui Sin Far helps a piece of her reality take up space in my brain in a way that I did not necessarily have room for it before. She was the “first writer of Asian descent to have work published in America” and documenting her places might help us cement that. Yes, she was here, and she is as much a part of our literary history as any more mainstream turn of the century author.

In the classroom, I will share the images I took and discuss the history of San Francisco as it relates to immigration from Asia, since such immigration is a central occurrence in many of the stories in Mrs. Spring Fragrance. I will most likely use this post on Angel Island from Ben Railton to flesh out this discussion. He also has a book on the Chinese Exclusion Act. I haven’t read it yet, but if it is anything like his work on American Studier, I imagine it is very insightful.

But beyond background, I also want to use my images to help us close read the short stories in Mrs. Spring Fragrance. For the remainder of this post, I will present an image that I took in Chinatown and link it to a story from Mrs. Spring Fragrance. I will do this for two examples, but it could be repeated depending on the structure for the class period. This process could work as an introduction to the topic. You could present one or two images and have students discuss them as a way to get acquainted with Far, and then move on to more specific close readings not connected to the photographs. Or you can extend the activity so it becomes the entire lesson for the class. You could have students write for five minutes at the beginning of class about their reactions to one or two photographs, share their reactions with the class, and then working in groups or as a class find stories and/or passages that connect to the specific photographs they wrote about. This could also be the basis for a longer writing assignment where students use photographs from their lives or find photographs online that connect to literary or thematic elements of a story and then write an essay analyzing the connections between the photographs and the texts.

img_0960I picked the first photograph because of the way the hanging lanterns emphasize the two stories of the building and the fire escape. The lanterns are the main feature of the photograph, but the way they match the red brick and mimic the white squares on the facade highlights the green of the fire escape and the white arches above the windows. This reminds me of Far’s short story “The Chinese Lily,” where the character, Sin Far, sacrifices herself in a fire to save Mermei, the sister of her love, Lin John.

This image helps us understand the story in two ways: 1) Mermei is an observer. She is described by the story as “crippled” from an accident when she was young. She does not live her life out in the world but from behind her window. This isn’t a very descriptive story, but the most description comes from Mermei staring out of her window. She sees, “two yellow-robed priests,” “a litte bird with a white breast,” “a man carrying an image of a Gambling Cash Tiger,” and girls “dressed gaily as if to attend a wedding.” Students can talk about these moments of description and analyze why Far emphasizes looking and seeing as a common feature of Mermei’s character. What value does observation have? How do we reward doing over seeing in fiction and/or in everyday life? 2) When there is a fire at her apartment, Lin John saves Mermei instead of her neighbor and his love, Sin Far. This photograph will help students visualize the moment of crisis when Lin John realizes that he can save only one. He climbs up a ladder and locks eyes with Sin Far who appears to give her tacit approval to save Mermei. The story ends with Lin John reassuring Mermei that he did the right thing; he says, “And I-I did my duty with her approval, aye, at her bidding. How then, little sister, can I be sad?” Students  can discuss sacrifice, duty, and family in this moment, and I think the image gives them support when trying to imagine the choice that the characters were making. Far describes the choice with an economy of language, so the reader needs to slow themselves down in order to consider the implications of this moment. A focus on the image allows for that slowing process.

img_0958This next photograph reminds me of the cross-dressing character in “The Smuggling of Tie Co.” The  story tells of Jack Fabian who is an “amongst the daring men who engage in contrabanding Chinese from Canada into the United States.” This story is rather short but has an intricate plot. Fabian falls into hard times as the smuggling business is not as profitable as it once was, and then a young man, Tie Co, offers to pay a substantial fee to be smuggled across the border. As they are traveling through the woods to their destination, Tie Co realizes they are being followed and flings himself into a river so Fabian will not be caught smuggling and, therefore, not go to jail. It is revealed after Tie Co’s dead body washes up on shore that Tie Co was really a woman. No one seems to have known that and all we are have at the end is Fabian who is left to consider “the mystery of Tie Co’s life—and death.”

In the image, the focus on dress is the first way that I made a connection to “The Smuggling of Tie Co.” Because all of the colors in the painting/statue are similar, the intricate details and patterns on the clothes stand out. With Tie Co in mind, we are asked to think about what clothing hides and what clothing reveals. What facade do we present to the world through our clothing? I am also interested in the juxtaposition between all of the faces on the building with the statue stands stoically in front. This makes me ask questions about the face we show to the world. I imagine all of these images as different versions of the same person. The statue is showing the visage that one would like to project, while the other images behind show potential alternate versions of the expressions the statue could wear. Finally, it isn’t noticeable from the picture, but this was on the second story of the building. I felt a slightly uncanny feeling while looking up at this statue, which was in a line with other similar statues. The statue looks stern and determined and also perched as if about to make a choice. Can we see this statue as a vision of Tie Co before making the decision to leap into the water to spare Fabian?

As I mentioned above, I think using these images will be very helpful to generate thoughts and discussions in the classroom setting. I’m glad that I planned my trip with this possibility in mind. I took all of the photos in this post with my trusty iphone. Here is a link to the rest of them which were taken on my walk through Chinatown to City Lights. If you are interested in using the images in your classroom, please feel free to do so. And if you do use them, or other photographs in a similar manner, please let us know about your classroom experience with these kinds of lessons.