I V Disruption and Disfunktion: Locating a Funk Sensorium in Twentieth-Century African American Literature by Casey Rachel Wass
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Disruption and DisFunktion: Locating a Funk Sensorium in Twentieth-Century African American Literature by Casey Rachel Wasserman Department of English Duke University Date:_______________________ Approved: ___________________________ Karla Holloway, Supervisor ___________________________ Fred Moten ___________________________ Sheila Smith-McKoy ___________________________ Priscilla Wald Dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of English in the Graduate School of Duke University 2011 i v ABSTRACT Disruption and DisFunktion: Locating a Funk Sensorium in Twentieth Century African American Literature by Casey Rachel Wasserman Department of English Duke University Date:_______________________ Approved: ___________________________ Karla Holloway, Supervisor ___________________________ Fred Moten ___________________________ Sheila Smith-McKoy ___________________________ Priscilla Wald An abstract of a dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of English in the Graduate School of Duke University 2011 Copyright by Casey Rachel Wasserman 2011 Abstract This dissertation examines the way in which funk music, in the context of twentieth- century African American literature, operates as a means of stimulating the sensorium. Funk, narrowly defined as a musical form, once carried negative connotations. Whether understood as depression, a genre of popular music, an odor, or as a euphemism for sex, the genre is concerned with attitude and visible emotions. Much work has been done in the field of African American literature regarding jazz and blues, and studies of hip-hop are gaining traction. Funk, however, has not fulfilled its potential for investigating its affect of musical performance or its connection to narratives. This project is an examination of the aesthetics of this musical form, which will generate more nuanced readings of musical and literary narratives of the 1960s and 1970s through an analysis of sound and its sensorial variants. I examine the function of music in a literary text as opposed to how it is described. Funk operates as a link between the jazz- and blues-inspired poetry and novels of the early twentieth century on the one hand and the emergence of “urban,” “street,” or “hip-hop” narratives on the other. Its artistic intervention in social relationships brings the aesthetic and political into conversation. I argue against the binary differentiating “serious” and “popular” musical forms; funk bridges the gap between these two designations in an important context, which creates a sonic and social space to examine the idea of difference both in terms of the general and the specific. A misconception of “sameness” is the site of theoretical and ontological difference or disruption. Funk’s ability to disrupt resides in its paradoxical nature. Rhythmically, the musical genre departs from soul of the 1960s and is fundamental to the development of hip-hop in the iv late-1970s and early 1980s. Though rooted in distinct rhythmic patterns, Funk seeks to dismantle conceptions of rhythmic expectation and production common in popular music by pushing back against previously popular forms. Prior to Funk’s popularity, most musical forms ranging from jazz to rock and roll emphasized the second and fourth beats in a measure. Funk compositions typically emphasize the first and third beats, which changes the momentum of the music. Though it is a genre geared towards dance and therefore rooted in the body and movement, Funk gravitates towards transcending the physical limits of the body by addressing discourses of sensorial perception. Funk (both as a musical genre and an aesthetic) is something of a sensory ensemble—each sense a part of the whole, complex experience. The five senses are brought together in an all-out attack on what hegemony comes to represent. Each chapter presents a different mode of assault on the body’s ability to process the sensorium. I demonstrate the way Funk disrupts through a fusion of ethnomusicology, socio-cultural analysis, and literary criticism in the act of reading, hearing, watching, smelling, and tasting musical performances, cultural events, and works of literature. v Contents Abstract...............................................................................................................................................iv List of Figures .....................................................................................................................................vii Acknowledgements............................................................................................................................viii Introduction ........................................................................................................................................... 1 Chapter 1: “Can’t You Smell That Smell?” The Etymology of an Odor ........................................18 Chapter 2: One Novel Under a Groove: Ellison’s Invisible Man and Multidimensional Rhythm 54 Chapter 3: Spontaneous Combustion: Spectacle, Pleasure, and Containment................................85 Chapter 4: “Pass The Peas”: In Search of Musical Nourishment ..................................................125 Biography ..........................................................................................................................................171 vi List of Figures Figure 1: Still image from MC Hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This” Video.......................................14 Figure 2: Ron Cosley cartoon featured in Black Books Bulletin ................................................35 vii Acknowledgements In his infinite wisdom, Ice Cube once said, “Life ain’t a track meet. It’s a marathon.” I would be remiss to submit this document without thanking the people who helped me as I struggled to reach and eventually cross the finish line. My project would have fallen by the wayside without a community of colleagues, friends, and family supporting me throughout my time in graduate school. My committee members Fred Moten and Sheila Smith-McKoy provided thoughtful critiques and practical advice that shaped this project as well as my intellectual and professional personae. Priscilla Wald embraced a project that took some time to take shape, and I will forever be grateful for her generosity of spirit and willingness to venture into new musical territory. All three individuals challenged me to believe in my work and myself. Special thanks to Karla Holloway for years of advice, periods of necessary tough love, patience that was periodically tested, and boundless kindness. I am indebted to her for believing in this project and her willingness to follow me down a funky intellectual rabbit hole. She consistently modeled the type of mentor and teacher I hope to be. My friends have offered support since my first days at Duke, and I must mention several by name for their distinct contributions. Libby Masiuk listened to me whine about stress for six years—beginning as I lamented my lot in life and failure to purchase a bottle opener on my first pathetic day in Durham. Erica Fretwell and Tim Wright have kept me sane ever since our wacky seminar our first semester in the program; our get- viii togethers always resulted in much needed comic relief, and I am grateful for their encouragement and thoughtfulness. Bryan Wilson provided employment (!), a tolerance for my ridiculous antics, lessons on how to take the high road, and more free lunches than I deserve or can ever repay. (Though that doesn’t mean I won’t try!) Tremendous thanks go to my mother, Susan Larson, who didn’t initially understand my pursuit of funk in an academic setting, but her unconditional love and persistent reassurance I was on the right path were crucial to my success. Words fail me, and I can’t thank her enough for everything she has done or said to encourage me. My younger brother Dash Wasserman was a patient listener, offered careful advice when appropriate, and provided some great music to listen to while writing. (Thanks for the “power song.”) He is wise beyond his years, and I am thankful to have a brother who is quick to give me soulful shout-outs and words of encouragement on his college radio shows. Both members of my family provided an endless supply of inspiration and motivation when I needed it most. I am in awe of their abilities as writers, thinkers, and citizens of the world and aspire to the level of creativity both maintain on a daily basis. Finally, I give a special thanks to Justin Gorsage for tolerating my neuroses, strange working hours, and habit of spreading books and papers on every available surface in the house. Without his patience and unflinching support, I would not have completed this project. He pushed me to challenge myself in ways I never knew were possible, and in appreciation, here it is in print for all to see: Justin, I am truly lucky (and grateful) you love me. ix Introduction The click of a mouse. A hand reaching for a radio knob. The swivel of a plastic jewel case. The delicate placement of a needle on vinyl. Fingers moving along the frets located on the neck of a guitar if there is music. Performing and listening requires a physical relationship between the body and the music’s source—be it a car stereo, a computer loaded with mp3 files, or the strumming of a guitar. The sense of touch grounds our initial interaction with music almost as much as our ability to