Racism and real life: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in the undergraduate survey of American literature

Radical Teacher, Fall, 2007 by Annemarie Hamlin, Constance Joyner

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This article began as a series of conversations between an African-American student and a white teacher about Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885), assigned in a ten-week survey of American literature since the Civil War at La Sierra University in Riverside, California, a private, Christian liberal arts institution that serves a widely diverse student body. Excited about reading a "great" work of American literature, but troubled by the racist language of the young southern boy, Constance (the student) began a dialogue with Annemarie (the teacher) about the value of this "classic" text of American literature. We conversed via email and in person before and after class about the book's language and the portrayal of Jim, the runaway slave, for several weeks--much longer than the class time devoted to the novel. Constance felt offended by the book--angry at the author, at the book's status as a "classic," and at the fact that many see the book only as a relic of the past. Annemarie felt challenged by Constance's reaction and became keenly aware of the opportunities and perils associated with her position as a white teacher. Together we thought we'd try to write our way beyond the classroom experience and create something lasting and shared from the exchange.

We offer, then, reflections on and accounts of the series of class periods on Huck Finn from two voices, two subject positions, and the multiple identities that we represent. Some of these categories overlap: woman, mother, middle aged, middle class, reader. Some of them don't: black/white, B.A.-seeking/ Ph.D.-holding, student/teacher. But whatever our similarities and differences, we each came to a common text with a host of assumptions and expectations that we hope to unpack a little bit here.

What the Huck Constance Joyner

An unknown author stated, "Racial superiority is a mere pigment of the imagination." Nowhere is this quote more legitimated than in Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn. Some might argue that Mister Twain is a product of his environment and is only providing an enjoyable tale of an adventurous youth privileged by hue. In reality, Mister Twain has authored a novel that perpetuates the inexplicable, insidious, and heinous sense of entitlement that dominates an entire society, manifested in the seemingly innate characteristics and dialogues of the fictional, racist, child, Huck Finn. Many would take umbrage at calling the accomplished author, Mister Mark Twain, a racist and would consider it tantamount to calling the stars and stripes un-American. I disagree. I believe the old adage: if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it's probably Mark Twain's rendition of the duck in question, Huckleberry Finn.

Until adulthood, most children do not have to suffer the angst and trauma of moral ethical dilemmas. However, Mark Twain's pre-Civil War character, Huckleberry Finn, is not like most children. A product of his environment, Finn is portrayed as a rebellious, oft times confused, young racist child. Of course, living in this incendiary historical time, Finn's precocious racism would be accepted and considered admirable to most all of Twain's white readers.

Twain's character spends much time pontificating about and offering his convoluted thoughts on how life should be. There is a moment on the river when the teen-aged Finn is completely self-absorbed with thoughts of how others will interpret his part in Jim's endeavor for freedom. Twain succinctly illustrates the internal debate that deluges Finn's sophomoric mind with questions he believes will be foisted upon him by his white counterparts should the discovery be made that it was Finn who aided in Jim's escape. Even though the words are not visible, Twain writes between the lines to illuminate the point of Finn's tormented subconscious as the cerebral wheels slowly and subjectively turn Jim from beast to man. Finn's inner demons continue the ambiguous struggle between Jim the Slave and Jim the Family Man. Even though Finn's wild child existence does not include a pleasurable family experience, he understands the notion of a (white) man loving his kin and therefore cannot believe his ears when a Less Than speaks of such unconditional love of his own. Finn is incredulous when Jim shares the ultimate fantasy of familial reunion and kidnapping his children. Finn's socialization deafens the reality of his heart and causes him to hear only the militant ranting of an ungrateful slave. So, like the majority of whites in the 1800's, whether young or old, Finn shares the compulsion to save Jim from self-harm and does what is ultimately "best" for the poor, ignorant, African soul. Finn appears truly sorry for Jim's abolitionist rhetoric and feels as if it is his duty to protect Jim from himself and turn him in to the authorities. After making the grown-up decision to follow the letter of the law, Finn feels immediate relief.

Possibly, readers of the time were made angry by Twain's audacity to allow Finn to emotionally embrace and accept the implied humanity of a nigger. However, the true temerity lies in the fact that Twain does not have the courage to explore these dilemmas through an adult protagonist standing firmly on land and instead he hides his personal lack of humanity behind the eyes of a child precariously adrift on the river. So, as the tides turn and generations mark the distance between racial inequality and equal rights, for me, the perennial classic of the Good Ol' South is now just a book that offers archaic rhetoric that continues to fuel the subtle flame of 21st century racism.