Digital Loa and Faith You Can Taste: Hoodoo in the American Imagination
Total Page：16
File Type：pdf, Size：1020Kb
Digital Loa and Faith You Can Taste: Hoodoo in the American Imagination BY Copyright 2014 Crystal M. Boson Submitted to the graduate degree program in American Studies and the Graduate Faculty of the University of Kansas in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. _____________________________________________ Chairperson: Dr. Randal Jelks _____________________________________________ Dr. Giselle Anatol _____________________________________________ Prof. Darren Canady _____________________________________________ Dr. Jennifer Hamer _____________________________________________ Dr. Beverly Mack _____________________________________________ Dr. Sherrie Tucker Date Defended: April 7, 2014 The Dissertation Committee for Crystal Boson certifies that this is the approved version of the following dissertation: Digital Loa and Faith You Can Taste: Hoodoo in the American Imagination _____________________________________________ Chairperson: Dr. Randal Jelks Date approved: April 7, 2014 ii Abstract Utilizing popular culture mediums and artifacts, this dissertation examines the ways in which the American imaginary plasticizes the faith of Hoodoo and continually strips it of its religious, historic, and cultural impacts. Rather than being acknowledged as a religion, Hoodoo is presented in cultural mediums as something inherently consumable, commercial, and capable of endless, identical reproductions. The artifacts produced around this plastic representation are contemporary reproductions of racist, colonial, and paternalistic historic narratives that have damaging effects both on the religion and Black bodies. The dissertation argues that larger American culture perpetually reproduces these representations to profit from covert racism and religious paternalism while simultaneously erasing its history of Black culture and American colonialism. iii Table of Contents Acknowledgements v Hoodoo Is, hoodoo Ain’t: An Introduction 1 “Who Do You Voodoo?: Plastic Possession 41 Faith You Can Taste: Edible Hoodoo 90 Binary in the Bookshelf: Literary and Pulp Hoodoo 135 White Witches and Voodoo Girls: Hoodoo and Digital Domination 169 Closing Down the hoodoo shop: A Conclusion 210 Glossary 214 Bibliography 218 iv I would like to tell ya’ll some stories. This dissertation is born out of my status as a storyteller, a devourer of pop culture, and a trickster; I am here to tell you stories about the Hoodoo I have seen, the things my hands have touched, and reshape the tales you have already heard. Popular culture is full of representations of what it thinks hoodoo is and it produces objects, tastes, and visions to reflect those ideas. This dissertation is the changing of the plates in the pop-cultural feast that the American Imaginary has prepared. It is the start of my attempt to flip the whole table. This dissertation is the beginning. There are many people who I would like to thank for their help and support in this story telling. I would like to thank my family, who always supported, funded, and encouraged my scholarship. Thank you Michael L. Boson and Sarah Lee Boson. Thank you Nicole Boson. “Take a look, she’s got a book.” The gratitude extends outward to my supportive partner, Megan who has served as a constant editor, sounding board, and witness to this labour of sleepless nights and worn down fingertips. I could not have walked this path without you. I am also indebted to Dr. Elizabeth Thorpe, who has given me years of poignant and vital advice for all things academic; this ranges from how to look for doctoral programs to serving on many a practice committee. A special thanks is offered to Dr. Nancy Espinoza for her insight, advice, support, and suggestions. To Dr. Alesha Doan, who all but adopted me into her program, and selflessly offered her time, resources, and wit. While the above mentions are brief, they in no way reflect the gratitude I have for each of them. Each v of these people mentioned has left an indelible mark on my scholarship, my academic progress, and my life. Many thanks. I would also like to offer thanks to my dissertation committee. To Dr. Randal Jelks, who first welcomed me to the University of Kansas, and coached me along every step of the way. Thank you for encouraging me to combine faith with works in the academic arena. To Dr. Giselle Anatol, who opened the doors of the English Department, and who offered me works of fiction that reflected both my faith, and my self in complex and fascinating ways. To Dr. Sherrie Tucker, who introduced me to theory, and pushed me to fully define my terms. To Dr. Beverly Mack, who taught me methods, how to use them, and how to find joy even in the hardest of works. To Professor Darren Canady, who encouraged me to keep my voice clear and honest in every project, whether academic or creative. To Dr. Jennifer Hamer, who has been a rock and an invaluable source of advice, comfort, and pragmatism in all things. I do not, and never will have, enough words to thank you. All of you have uniquely helped shape me into the scholar I am today, and I am extremely grateful. I am excited to watch how our interactions and conversations change, as I move from graduate student to colleague. Finally, I would like to thank the practitioners and others that I was fortunate to encounter in the hot streets of New Orleans. This dissertation carries some of your tales. Thank you all for showing me new sides to the city, to the practice, and to the larger pop-cultural imagination. vi While this dissertation is distinctly a product of the academy, I consider it a story for a wider audience. I am writing for the lone practitioner who may live thousands of miles from the presumed epicenter of New Orleans, but also shoulders its weight of representation. I write for the everyday consumer of hoodoo, so that they may be able to actually see what they are eating. I write for my parents, so that they may know they did not just throw money, hope, and cell phone minutes into a Kansas-shaped hole. I write for the larger community, both inside and outside of the academy; may we all see that representation matters, and take the narratives I offer here not as instructions as how to better misrepresent hoodoo, but as tales of survival and movement. May the work I do here begin a larger conversation that changes the way we consume representations of the faith. With all that being said, allow me to tell ya’ll some stories. vii Hoodoo Is, hoodoo Ain’t: An Introduction “This is a bad land for gods.”1 For the last three years, people from all aspects of my life have laid hoodoo at my feet; friends, strangers, and advisors have filled my inbox with sensationalist articles about black magic sacrifices, or voodoo strippers. The stories are always a heady mix of violence, racism and overt sexual titillation. For example, last month I was sent the history of Adolpho de Jesus Constanzo and his “bizarre voodoo cult”2. In 1989, he supposedly killed up to 100 people during black magic rituals in his secret voodoo lair. The police described it as “hidden torture chamber”3 full of blood and “homosexual pornography.”4 This story was followed by a news clipping describing Pat Robertson’s 2010 comment5 where he claimed that all Haitians worshiped the devil and blamed Voodoo for that years devastating earthquake in Haiti. The same day, I stumbled across the story of Anna Pierre, who lost her opportunity to be the mayor of North Miami because her political “opponents had left dolls with needs in front of her home, in an attempt to perform a voodoo hex against her.”6 As sensational and attention grabbing these three vignettes are, they are the smallest drops in the bucket that is the representations of hoodoo in 1 Gaimen, 1 2 Ghost, 1 3 ibid 4 ibid 5 Pat Robertson 6 How Dreadful 1 American culture. Each of these three stories were presented in mainstream news sources; they do not even begin to represent all of the popular culture references, including jokes, movies, and urban legends, that do not make national news. It is with these tales, and countless other stories in mind, that I began my dissertation research. In the summer of 2013, I headed to New Orleans for more of these stories. While I spent previous trips to the area in the comfort of sweet tea and family, or the frenzied crush of Mardi Gras, the goal of this particular trip was to arm myself with a camera and recorder, and to sop up every bit of hoodoo that simmered in the French Quarter and floated about the city. The hoodoo I came for was not the religious faith of Hoodoo, which has its own specific loa7, worship practices, and rituals, but the junk that is made supposedly in its image. I came to buy voodoo dolls, t-shirts, and post cards. I flew down to talk to and dance with tourists and hoodoo shop clerks. I strolled down Bourbon Street to saver every odd taste that had the name of the faith splashed across it. While pop culture misrepresentations of the faith are ever present, in every imaginable medium, New Orleans served as the physical epicenter of hoodoo and a fitting site to begin my narrative. I spent five days in the city as a tourist and collector. While there, I had the opportunity to go on “Voodoo tours”, where guides would regale me with tales of a lithe Marie Laveau and her seductive dances with serpents and dark gods. I was also directed to multiple bars and clubs that had bewitching cocktails that bore her name. 7 the loa (also spelled lwa) are the gods, ancestors, and spirits of the faith that communicate with and are worshiped by practitioners.