City University of New York (CUNY) CUNY Academic Works All Dissertations, Theses, and Capstone Projects Dissertations, Theses, and Capstone Projects 6-2017 Bricolage Propriety: The Queer Practice of Black Uplift, 1890–1905 Timothy M. Griffiths The Graduate Center, City University of New York How does access to this work benefit ou?y Let us know! More information about this work at: https://academicworks.cuny.edu/gc_etds/2013 Discover additional works at: https://academicworks.cuny.edu This work is made publicly available by the City University of New York (CUNY). Contact: [email protected] BRICOLAGE PROPRIETY: THE QUEER PRACTICE OF BLACK UPLIFT, 1890–1905 by TIMOTHY M. GRIFFITHS A Dissertation submitted to the Graduate Faculty in English in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, The City University of New York 2017 Griffiths ii © 2017 TIMOTHY M. GRIFFITHS All Rights Reserved Griffiths iii Bricolage Propriety: The Queer Practice of Black Uplift, 1890–1905 by Timothy M. Griffiths This manuscript has been read and accepted by the Graduate Faculty in English in satisfaction of the dissertation requirement for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy. ____________________ ______________________________________ Date Robert Reid-Pharr Chair of Examining Committee ____________________ ______________________________________ Date Mario DiGangi Executive Officer Supervisory Committee: Robert Reid-Pharr Eric Lott Duncan Faherty THE CITY UNIVERSITY OF NEW YORK Griffiths iv ABSTRACT Bricolage Propriety: The Queer Practice of Black Uplift, 1890–1905 by Timothy M. Griffiths Adviser: Robert Reid-Pharr Bricolage Propriety: The Queer Practice of Black Uplift, 1890-1905 situates the queer-of-color cultural imaginary in a relatively small nodal point: the United States at the end of the nineteenth century. Through literary analysis and archival research on leading and marginal figures of Post- Reconstruction African American culture, this dissertation considers the progenitorial relationship of late-nineteenth century black uplift novels to modern-day queer theory. Bricolage Propriety builds on work about the sexual politics of early African American literature begun by women-of-color feminists of the late 1980s and early 1990s, including Hazel V. Carby, Ann duCille, and Claudia Tate. A new wave of interest has emerged in the “Post-Bellum/Pre-Harlem” era of African American literary production, but few in queer theory and African American literary study have yet made a connection between this renewed interest and turns in gender and sexuality studies since the late 1990s. Bricolage Propriety attempts to revisit this period of literary production and to update how we think about this period after the emergence of queer-of- color critique, particularly the work of José Esteban Muñoz, Roderick Ferguson, Aliyyah Abdur- Rahman, Tavia Nyong’o, Darieck Scott, Robert Reid-Pharr, Siobahn Somerville, and Mason Stokes. Moreover this project attempts to use its analyses of the gender and sex politics of this literary archive to question queer theory’s novelty, to put antiracism at its center, and to deemphasize the white-gay-male archive’s centrality. The argument offered in Bricolage Propriety narrativizes a usable past of black and queer cultures toward a more efficacious queer and antiracist coalition politics. By implementing race as a form of sexual transgression more fully into queer theory, the critical flexibility and political salience of queer theory can only stand to grow. Published during the emergence of the African American literary genre, the novels of Charles W. Chesnutt, Pauline E. Hopkins, and Sutton E. Griggs provide a critical model for how to think about race as a form of transgressive sexuality; further, these texts show how integral racial representation at the end of the nineteenth century is to our ideas about sexual transgression. In the manner of bricolage — art produced with whatever is at hand — these novelists worked within and outside the dominant culture of their time to theorize black sexual propriety, while challenging that same propriety through key failures and subversions of early African American literary form. Griffiths v ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS From its inception, Bricolage Propriety: The Queer Practice of Black Uplift, 1890–1905 has been primarily about my belief in the necessity of queer antiracism — in my scholarship, in my activism, and in my life. Everyone who has participated in this project, believed in its premise, funded its research, scrutinized its flaws, discussed its merits, and held its author’s hand in times of need has acted as an ally to that cause. In the past five years, while working on this project, I lost two people without whom this dissertation would not be possible. This dissertation is dedicated to their memories. The first is my father, Gary H. Griffiths. When you grow up in a predominantly white rural part of Michigan, there’s hardly any guarantee you’ll have access to antiracist culture and thought. But by some fluke miracle, I had Gary Griffiths for a father. My father was not humble about his lifetime opposition to racism — and it was probably a little hyperbolic, truth be told — but as a kid, it helped me to have a father who taught me that antiracism is a form of thankless heroism. He played his jazz records loudly every Saturday morning; he talked about his opposition to segregation while a lecturer at Auburn University; and he took me to see the Charles Mingus Big Band, where I first heard the song “Fables of Faubus.” He didn’t learn I was queer until he was about seventy-seven; after a month of awkwardness, he was about as accepting of me as I could ask for. And to what did he credit his acceptance of my sexuality? His experiences with antiracism. Not bad for an old white guy from Akron, Ohio. The other person to whom I dedicate this work is José Esteban Muñoz. I only knew José for maybe a total of three months, having taken his class “Wildness” at New York University, co-taught with Tavia Nyong’o. José passed away about two weeks before the end of the semester, devastating everyone who had known this kind, generous, hilarious wit. I learned from José to craft my research trajectory like a philosopher, thinking of my work as one holistic project rather than as discrete inquiries. I learned from him to think about queerness as more than just subversive radicalism, but also as a loving critique of the dominant culture we all grow up in. Most importantly, I learned from José how to critique what I don’t like not just through biting analysis, but through generous, intimate acquaintance with it. I find myself grateful for his work almost every day and I expect to be teaching it throughout my career. Before I began my time at the Graduate Center, when I was deciding where to go to graduate school, a professor at another university — where I was on a prospective student visit — told me that if I did not go to CUNY and study with Robert Reid-Pharr that I would be making a huge mistake. Robert has been everything you could ask for in a graduate school and dissertation adviser. He compliments my outfits; he doesn’t accept mediocrity; he patiently but curtly stops me when my projects are getting extravagant and longwinded; he pushes me not to take my theoretical underpinnings for granted, to always interrogate the role of theory in my scholarship; he pushes me to finish; and he told me early on that I should not forsake my creative writing background because skillful, imaginative writing is what would set me apart in my scholarship. Indeed, the beauty and distinctiveness of Robert’s prose taught me that lesson even before then. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, Robert. Eric Lott ran a tight ship as a dissertation workshop supervisor and as a dissertation committee member. His expertise on interracial desire and politics in the early Jim Crow era were essential; I was incredibly fortunate he arrived at the Graduate Center when he did and that he was willing, amidst his busy schedule, to read my stuff. Further, he has excellent taste in Griffiths vi music, a great sense of humor, and one of the more collegial dispositions you’re likely to find in a big-shot academic. Duncan Faherty has not only been a fantastic committee member, but he is the motor of American Studies at the Graduate Center. Without his diligence, so many of the opportunities I have had as a graduate student — intensive summer institutes, workshops, archival funding, and much more — would simply not exist. He has lobbied for me and my work on countless occasions; he has made me shake hands with academics at events when I was content to look at my shoes and drink free wine; and he was even nice enough to come to my wedding last year. He is one of the foremost advocates for student success at the Graduate Center, and he undoubtedly deserves more recognition for it than I can offer here. I would like to thank Professors Kandice Chuh and Hildegard Hoeller, who made an indelible impact on my early scholarship as orals committee members. Kandice has always urged me to read promiscuously, to write without regard to period and genre, and to displace the term “queer” in my work. Hildegard introduced me to countless excellent texts about sentimentality, domesticity, and women’s writing in the nineteenth century. Although I had almost no expertise on these subjects prior to meeting her, she accepted me where I was and patiently held my hand throughout the process of my learning. She is a marvelous teacher. Nothing would get done in the English department at the Graduate Center without the hard work, knowledge, and experience of Nancy Silverman.