Diversity in 18th Century France? Actually, yes.

A couple of months back, I dove down the rabbit hole of social media and landed on a hotbed of controversy surrounding diversity and representation in fiction. At the risk of grossly oversimplifying the debate, the conversation—complete with 100% naturalistic dialogue—went something like this:

Hey, I know we’ve come a long way in terms of representation, but there are still too many authors who include almost no diversity in their books.

Not every author has to include a diverse cast of characters. What about fiction set in 9^th century Scandinavia? Is the author supposed to sacrifice authenticity for representation’s sake?

You know, 9^th century Scandinavians did a lot of raiding and trading in different parts of the world. Their culture was probably a lot more diverse than you realize. In fact, the world has always been a diverse place. If you opt out of representing diverse characters, you’re missing the chance to build an incredible world that your readers will never forget.

Yeah, not only that, you’re actually creating an inauthentic world that perpetuates inequality and reinforces privileged groups at the expense of marginalized communities.

Okay, so let’s say I create a diverse cast of characters with some really problematic representation? Is that any better than no representation?

That sinking feeling

As I followed this debate, I considered my current WIP, which is set during the French Revolution, and came to the uncomfortable realization that my entire cast of characters is lily white. Faced with this new awareness, I did what any guilty party would do—I got defensive. The novel is set in France. During the 18^th century. The France of the 18^th century was overwhelmingly, well, French, wasn’t it?

Then, the second-guessing began. Defensiveness gave way to curiosity. I realized that for all my research into life at Versailles and servants and their masters, I had almost no concrete data on the ethnicity of people living in Revolutionary France. Now, I am a born researcher. It’s a major reason why I write historical fiction. I decided to dive further down the rabbit hole and see what I could dig up on the demographics of this tumultuous period.

Lies, damned lies, and statistics

Almost immediately, I ran into problems. As it happens, France didn’t perform its first national census until 1772 and from 1795 to 1836, most census records

Chevalier de Saint Georges, Virtuosa of the Sword and the Bow.

showed only statistics without personal names. By 1872, France stopped collecting census data on ethnicity and religious beliefs altogether on the grounds that doing so runs counter to its secular, republican principles.

Despite the lack of census data, researchers have been able to estimate the number of people of color in France during the 18^th century using various historical records. One source estimates that there were approximately 10,000 people of color in France by the end of the 18^th century.  According to another academic article, the number of Africans leaving and entering France throughout the 18^th century numbered around 4,000-5,000 people.

The Code Noir

The small number of people of color living in France during the 18^th century was no accident of history, but rather a systematic campaign to maintain a native, French population by strictly controlling who entered the country. Nowhere was this tight control more apparent than the handling of slaves traveling to and from France.

• In 1685, the Code Noir outlined restrictions and obligations of slaves and their French masters, with a focus on religious affiliation with the Catholic Church.
• A 1716 edict allowed masters to keep their slaves captive while in France.
• By 1738, concern over slaves settling permanently within French borders inspired a new law that superseded the edict of 1716. Going forward, slaves were prohibited from remaining in France for more than three years. If they did, they risked arrest, confiscation by the Crown, and being pressed into service in the royal navy’s galleys.
• By 1777, fears of miscegenation prompted passage of a new law prohibiting the entry of any black person into France. While the law was rarely enforced, its very existence attests to the growing obsession with 18^th century notions of racial purity.

Liberté, Fraternité, Égalité?

Even as France sought to limit the immigration of black people, it relied increasingly on colonial exports and slave labor to shore up its crumbling economy. In fact, France was the third largest exporter of slaves during the 18^th century, behind Portugal and Great Britain. The reliance on slave labor created no small amount of cognitive dissonance for the growing chorus of French subjects who championed Enlightenment ideals of liberté, fraternité, and égalité and the debate over whether to give the franchise to free people of African descent living in the colonies was hotly contested during the early days of the French Revolution.

Toussaint L’Ouverture

In 1791, the colony of Saint-Domingue took decisive steps to settle this issue when a group of slaves in the northern part of the island initiated a series of uprisings over a thirteen-year period to establish Haiti as the only nation in modern history to win independence through a slave revolt. The Haitian revolution also forced the hand of France’s National Convention, which abolished slavery in all French colonies in 1794. This wasn’t the end of the issue, however. In his zeal to establish an empire, Napoleon re-established slavery and the slave trade in 1802. France’s slave trade was permanently abolished in 1817 but the institution of slavery wasn’t legally dismantled until the revolution of 1848.

France’s identity crisis

Attempts to control and restrict the movements of blacks within French borders reveal a mounting anxiety over French identity in the 18^th century. Far from being the reactionary response of a unified body politic, laws restricting the migration and settlement of blacks reflect the anxieties of a population that lacked a stable or coherent national identity. In my next post, I’ll explore the instability of French national identity and how that complicates our discussion of diversity in Revolutionary France. In my final post of the series, I’ll tackle the issue of historical authenticity and representation. Buckle up. It’s going to be an eventful ride.

References:

Chatman, Samuel. (Summer, 2001). “There are no Slaves in France”: A Re-Examination of Slave Laws in Eighteenth Century France.” The Journal of Negro History, Vol. 85, No. 3, pp. 144-153. Retrieved on June 18, 2019 from

https://www.jstor.org/stable/2649071

(2013). Race, Slavery and Enlightenment. Seminar Presentation for HI 174: The Enlightenment. University of Warwick. Retrieved on June 18, 2019 from https://warwick.ac.uk/fac/arts/history/students/modules/hi174/seminars-2013-4/powerpoint_race_slavery_and_enlightenment.pptx

“French Revolution” and “French Slave Trade.” Slavery and Remembrance. Retrieved on June 19, 2019 from http://slaveryandremembrance.org/

 

NaNoWriMo Fever

November is over and winter—the world’s most anticipated season–is finally here. While the rest of America dives into the month-long orgy of retail therapy ushered in by Black Friday, writers are either celebrating their NaNoWriMo wins or planning their redemption for November 2019. After my first ever NaNoWriMo, I definitely fall into the second group.

I decided to tackle NaNoWriMo about a week before November kicked off. I’d toyed with the idea for a retelling of the Freyr-Gerda myth for several years and my historical fiction novel had foundered under a flawed narrative structure and some morally problematic plot devices. NaNoWriMo seemed like the perfect opportunity to resurrect my writing career with a sparkly new project. “How hard can it be?” I asked myself. After all, I had an idea for a novel with a ready-made plot and characters. Tackling 1667 words a day under the circumstances seemed like nabbing fish in a barrel. So I grabbed my laptop, spent a week outlining my masterpiece and jumped into NaNoWriMo with more enthusiasm than experience. What follows is the brutal, no-holds-barred account of my descent into NaNoWriMo delirium.

Week 1: I didn’t quite finish outlining my novel during Preptober and the ending feels kind of vague, but I am not going to let that stop me. I dive into writing and hit my daily word target for four days running. My creative juices are flowing and my imagination is on fire. I tell anyone who will listen and many who clearly don’t care that I am doing NaNoWriMo. Sure, my writing may be a little rough around the edges, but the concept! I am writing something truly groundbreaking, something that will ignite a new chapter in American letters. When I’m not reinventing the Nine Worlds for a modern audience, I indulge in some healthy visualization about the inevitable multi-volume book deal and television franchise that are sure to follow.

Week 2: After hitting my target for Week 1, the reality of churning out 1667 words every day is settling in. Every time I think about sitting down to write, my central nervous system revolts and I convince myself that I simply have to take a night off. That’s okay though, because I’ve got a three-day weekend coming up. All I have to do is write an extra 600 words a day, which will be easy because I won’t have a day job to distract me from my true calling. On Saturday, I make up a lot of ground. I actually hit my revamped target and I’m starting to feel a little cocky. Sunday comes. I don’t quite hit my target but I still do more than the daily 1667 so making up ground is well within reach. Then Monday comes. I realize one of my outlined plot developments isn’t plausible and undermines the continuity of the novel. I have a nagging suspicion that maybe world-building is something you should tackle before you start drafting your fantasy retelling of an ancient Norse myth. When I report on my progress, my daughter’s eyes glass over.

Week 3: The countdown to Thanksgiving has begun and visions of book deals and television series no longer dance in my fevered head. I am running out of ideas and my word count is nowhere near 50,000. I estimate the remaining number of scenes based on my outline and multiply them by the average word count of the scenes in my WIP. At this rate, I’m going to finish my Great American Novel after about 35,000 words. I’m also starting to have some doubts about plot. Have I deviated too far from the original myth? Can I adapt Gerda’s story for 21^st century readers without invoking the ire of the blogosphere?

If I’m going to turn forty-three four-line stanzas from the Poetic Edda into a 50,000 word draft, I need to come up with something and I need to do it quickly because my productivity has dropped farther than the Dow Jones in a bear market free fall. During one particularly demoralizing session, I eke out 236 words after two and a half hours. On the bright side, I am producing a lot of muttering and some creative ways to use profanity. Thank goodness I have Thanksgiving weekend because I am going to need every one of those 96 hours to nudge that little line on the NaNoWriMo graph in the right direction.

Things get off to a rocky start when the Great Thanksgiving Fiasco of 2018 hits. Despite three whole days gestating in my refrigerator at a balmy 35 degrees, my turkey is carrying a solid mass of ice in its belly. I decide to give my turkey a water birth and submerge it in my kitchen sink, refreshing the water every 20 minutes so I don’t poison anybody over Thanksgiving dinner. By the time I finally get the turkey and sides done, I barely have enough strength to get my fork in my mouth, although I somehow manage to down two full plates of food before the tryptophan kicks in and I lapse into a food coma.

I am greeted the following day by a heaping pile of dishes and a pulverized turkey carcass. I decide that the novel will have to wait for a day so I can remove the slick, oily film of turkey grease that coats my entire kitchen. I will brainstorm a solution to the latest gaping plot hole as I clean and tackle the actual writing the next day. I tell myself that simply doing NaNoWriMo is a victory. I don’t have to actually win to have a valid NaNoWriMo experience.

Week 4: I review what I have written. It is a hot mess. It is worse than a hot mess. It is complete and utter garbage. Reviewers are going to tear my poor little novel to shreds if it ever sees the light of day. Maybe I should abandon this travesty. But some stubborn seed of determination has taken root and I refuse to quit, even if I write complete and utter garbage for the rest of my life. I do revise my word count though. I’m not winning NaNoWriMo at this point so why not write 800 words a day?

A day later, my lack of Preptober planning and murky ending come back to bite me. I diligently sit down with my laptop and my screen stares back at me, blank and empty and accusatory. Two hours later, I have written three sentences. So much for work ethic. I downgrade my word count again—400 words a day. Just finish the damn thing, take a month off, then research medieval Scandinavia, study world building, and learn Old Norse like my life depends on it, because when I think about spending the rest of my days at my day job, I feel like it probably does.

November 30^th comes and goes. At last sitting, I managed to get 34,296 words written. Yes, the novel is a hot mess, but NaNoWriMo taught me some important lessons:

1. The best way to become a writer is to write, preferably every day or most days a week.
2. If you can’t write what you planned, write what you can. Something is better than nothing.
3. If you do manage to get words on the page, write more words. Sometimes you need to push yourself.
4. If at first NaNoWriMo you don’t succeed, there is always next year.

So far, these lessons are serving me well. Two thirds of the way through December and I’m at 37, 837 words and counting. At this rate, I should be done in time for the next NaNoWriMo.

 

My Love-Hate Affair with Social Media

When the Cambridge Analytica story broke, I felt disgust over the cold-blooded mining of people’s Facebook data and the use of personal information to manipulate political opinion. Side by side with the moral outrage, I felt another emotion–vindication. Folllowing Trump’s shock election in 2016, I’d summarily deleted my Facebook account after I started getting pro-Trump posts on my feed from strangers who swore up and down they were staunch Hilary supporters. Fueled by fears of Trump’s authoritarian populism and the suspicion that paid operatives were using my Facebook account to disseminate pro-Trump propaganda, I was convinced that Facebook had to go. The Cambridge Analytica revelations a year later convinced me that my post-election fears of social media surveillance were well-founded.

While Trump’s election was the proverbial nail in the coffin of my social media empire, I’d toyed with the idea of abandoning Facebook for several years. At the time I deleted my account, I was spiraling into a depression that ultimately resulted in hospitalization as I wrestled with feelings of isolation and suicidal despair. On Facebook, I sought authentic interactions with other people. Instead I got emojis. I wanted substantive discussion of important social issues. Instead I got internet memes and snark. While Trump was the catalyst for deleting my account, the problems in my love-hate affair with social media tapped into my hunger for emotional connection.

After eighteen months without Facebook, Instagram, or Tumblr, I’ve realized my part in my breakup with social media. My expectations were unrealistic. You don’t go to social media for therapy. I also struggled with the unwritten protocol that informs so many social media interactions. I’ve always struggled with social relationships. I have trouble reading people and situations. I can be hypersensitive to perceived slights and oblivious to other people’s needs. At least in person, I have facial expressions and body language to cue me to possible missteps. On social media, I have to breach the impersonal barrier of the computer screen to learn a bewildering set of norms that vary by platform and sub-culture.

Looking back over my time with social media, I’m still coming to terms with some of my behavior. I posted some cringeworthy content, particularly related to northern tradition spirituality, primarily due to my ignorance of the online pagan and heathen communities and of occult and Norse history as well. At the same time, I think I’m probably being a little hard on myself. Given my lack of social IQ combined with the simultaneously confessional and impersonal nature of social media, it’s not too surprising that I struggled to navigate the sometimes treacherous waters of the blogosphere and Facebook.

After a year and a half away from Facebook and the blogosphere, I can honestly say I don’t miss social media. In fact, I found deleting my Facebook account liberating. I am free from the post-Trump vitriol that my friends assure me has turned Facebook into a toxic cesspool. I no longer compare myself to people whose carefully curated social media personas convey an unattainable image of success or influence. And while it’s more difficult to connect with the broad swath of humanity I encountered on Facebook, the connections I do make are emotionally substantive and fulfilling. My love affair with social media may be over, but my journey of self-discovery continues.

I participated in MoveOn’s Ready to Resist: Confronting White Supremacy conference call tonight. The call discussed alt right strategies for advancing a white nationalist agenda and then moved into practical actions we can take to combat policies that overtly or implicitly support white supremacy. I’m including some links that we discussed during the call for readers who are looking for a way to take action.

Resistance Recess is an initiative sponsored by MoveOn.org to hold our elected officials accountable during the July 28th-September 4th congressional recess. To find out about events in your area or host one of your own, go to https://www.resistancerecess.com/event/aug-resistance-recess-events/search/.

Representatives Jerry Nadler, Pramila Jayapal, and Bonnie Watson Coleman introduced a formal resolution last Friday to censure Donald Trump for assigning blame to “both sides” of the Charlottesville protest, thereby establishing a moral equivalency between neo-Nazis, KKK members, white nationalists, and anti-fascist protesters. You can read the text of the censure here: https://nadler.house.gov/press-release/nadler-watson-coleman-jayapal-lead-over-75-members-censure-resolution-against. This page also includes a list of U.S. Representatives who have signed as co-sponsors.

If your representative has not signed, call and ask him or her to do so. If your representative has signed the resolution, call and thank them. You can find out who your representative is by going here: https://www.house.gov/representatives/find/

To stop the de-funding of public education through school vouchers and the disproportionate impact such a move would have on students of color and low-income children, go to http://www.reclaimourschools.org/summer-2017. You can sign an open letter to Secretary of Education and voucher proponent Betsy DeVos.

September 5th is the deadline for Trump to decide whether to continue the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program that would allow undocumented immigrant youth to obtain work permits and social security numbers while protecting them from deportation. Also at stake is the Temporary Protected Status (TPS) program, which grants conditional status to undocumented immigrants who cannot return to their countries of origin due to civil strife or natural disasters. You can sign a petition urging Donald Trump to preserve DACA at http://www.unitedwedream.org.

Opposing overt expressions of racism is just the first step. We also need to fight policies that target people of color and other vulnerable communities. Pick an action that resonates with you and let me know how things go.

Moral Imperative

Since Trump’s election last November, I have been torn between two impulses. The first impulse is to fight this would-be fascist dictator with every fiber of my being. The second impulse is to succumb to despair and apathy. Last Sunday, I turned away from an opportunity to speak out against racism and bigotry by staying home instead of attending a vigil for Charlottesville. I told myself I was tired, I was depressed, I was stressed out from a day of cleaning up after my neurotic cat. I told myself my absence would not make a difference.

However, there are moments in history that demand we back our beliefs up with action, regardless of personal inconvenience. Last Sunday, I donated money to the Southern Poverty Law Center, which was a good first baby step. Tonight, I’m taking a second step to combat the corrosive, toxic cankers of white nationalism and racism and mob rule and demagoguery. I’ve included a link to Indivisible Ventura’s “Be Like Water” page. The page includes some specific suggestions for acting against against the violence and hate that is dividing and demeaning our nation:

Monday 8/14 – Be like water.

I’m also including a link to the Southern Poverty Law Center, which has combated hate groups since 1971.

https://www.splcenter.org/

I will close by urging those of you who feel the same despair and apathy I wrestle with to take even one, small step to preserve the civil liberties of all Americans. We can make a difference, but only if we speak up and take action!