Virginia Woolf defines the “chief miracle” of a brilliant piece of writing as its ability to convey a message and move a readership without showing “any signs that [the author’s] circumstances had harmed [their] work in the slightest”; in other words, it is a work written, and thus, interpreted by the audience as one “without hate, without bitterness, without fear, without protest, without preaching,” one that is universally sympathetic, that merely presents the facts as they are, seeking to arrive at the heart of human nature as the means of revealing and uprooting the problem at hand (Woolf 73). In her novel, Iola Leroy, Frances E. W. Harper performs this miracle by creating and sympathizing with characters from both sides of the prominent argument regarding gradual versus immediate emancipation of slavery in the United States. Many abolitionists and anti-slavery advocates, although despising the state of slavery and its destructive grip on the nation, found it difficult and strictly futile to envision its immediate eradication. As the system had so long been ingrained into the laws and customs of U.S. society, it became—or rather, it appeared to many white Americans—the pin upon which all of the nation’s functionality hinged. Moreover, to these individuals, immediate emancipation implied more than the devastation of civilization in the United States as a whole, but on a micro level, the separation and ruin of many enslaved families as well.[1] Harper specifically presents these opinions and their counters through a moment of dialogue between Mr. Leroy (a white, anti-slavery advocate, plantation owner) and his formerly enslaved wife, Mrs. Marie Leroy in chapter 10 of Iola Leroy. By analyzing this conversation, it is evident that Harper employs a sympathetic voice for both contenders, situating their arguments as equal to one another and drawing attention to the human nature at the heart of both sides. The juxtaposition, however, creates a sense of irony within Mr. Leroy’s arguments as it enables the audience to recognize, on their own accord, an imbalance in this act of sympathizing with individuals in a state of power and privilege versus sympathizing with those in a state of weakness and paralysis. Ultimately, it subtly yet compellingly reveals where the greater portion of sympathy ought to lie—with Marie (Mrs. Leroy) on the side of immediate emancipation.
The conversation of interest is initiated by Marie who, commenting on her gratitude for being the mother of free children, expresses disbelief for white fathers who would willingly resign their children—their own flesh and blood—to the pains of slavery. Mr. Leroy responds by defending white fathers who attempt to do good for their illegitimate children and concludes, “We are all liable to err, and, having done wrong, all we can do is to make reparation” (Harper 114). This statement reveals several details of Mr. Leroy’s character and opinions regarding the state of slavery, enabling the reader to both sympathize with his view and recognize various aspects of partiality within it. First, it reveals that Mr. Leroy is capable of feeling and expressing sympathy for others in complicated and difficult situations, a quality that invites readers to sympathize with him as well. He recognizes the human trait of imperfection and allows room and grace for it in others’ lives. He also acknowledges, as implied in his statement, that the act of violating women in a manner that leads to situations of fathering illegitimate children is wrong, agreeing with Marie that it should not happen in the first place. However, it also reveals that the decisions Mr. Leroy makes regarding where to bestow his sympathy are heavily influenced by the bias of his own privilege and situation. He has the ability to sympathize with white men who, in Marie’s words, “wronged [their] children by giving them the status of slaves and outcasts” because he himself is white and, although ostensibly stands against the institution of slavery, finds himself participating in it by owning enslaved people as well (114). Thus, through Harper’s honest presentation of Mr. Leroy’s perspective—one that recognizes slavery as a powerful and wicked system from which no one can escape, not even the white man—the audience is encouraged to visualize and sympathize with people in the difficult situation of having committed a wrong and effortfully trying to make it right, as does Mr. Leroy in this example.
However, Marie’s argument serves as a juxtaposition to Mr. Leroy’s. She responds to him by saying, “this is a wrong where reparation is impossible,” suggesting that no attempt to repair the damage in these situations could ever make the affected individuals whole again; ultimately, she is saying that the only solution that could come remotely close to repairing these wrongs is the eradication of slavery as a whole (114). In her opinion, any other form of reconciliation is impossible. By situating this counter argument in a manner equal to Mr. Leroy’s, Harper validates the the genuineness of both characters’ opinions; yet at the same time, through this equality and juxtaposition, she evokes a sense of irony as the readers are able to perceive imbalance in Mr. Leroy’s overt sympathy for the men who arouse such damage in the first place.
Approximately midway through the dialogue, Mr. Leroy states, “slavery is a sword that cuts both ways. If it wrongs the negro, it also curses the white man. But we are in it, and what can we do?” (115). Again, he laments the wrongs of the institution, but here admits a sense of powerlessness against it, inviting readers to sympathize with his weakness and exonerate him of guilt, as he would change it if he only had the power. Yet where he resigns to making the most of unavoidable tragedy, Marie responds to his question with a different solution, “Get out of it as quickly as possibly,” directly asserting her desire for immediate emancipation (115). It is again this comparative argument, placed equally and immediately after Mr. Leroy’s, that reveals an improper distribution of sympathy within Mr. Leroy’s perspective. He calls slavery a “sword” that “wrongs” black people but “curses” white people. The word “curse” and the association of all that lies within such a term is much heavier than the word and the implications of “wronging” someone. To be wronged implies a minor offense which can be righted by some form of reparation; but to be cursed suggests a state of victimization to an uncontrollable force of evil. Yet in all the evidence throughout the novel, it is clear that the pains of white people struggling to live with a system they dislike are immeasurably outweighed by the pains of the victims living beneath the oppression of that system.
By hearing Marie’s opinion in contrast to even the genuine and heartfelt intentions of Mr. Leroy, this miscalculation becomes evidently grave. Marie’s argument criticizes powerful and complacent white people who lament but do nothing to intervene—those who, by their skin and gender, possess more influence on their own than a hundred enslaved people combined. In her opinion, this distraught complacency is as futile and unjust as lamenting the existence of dark skin rather than the evil system that demonized it; “as if it were possible for the victim to change his organic structure, and impossible for the oppressor to change his wicked heart” (Matthews 171). Thus, this juxtapositional exchange, although encouraging the reader to sympathize with and understand Mr. Leroy’s opinion, reveals considerable weaknesses in his argument due to the comparative validity and strength of Marie’s.
Mr. Leroy further explains that he would gladly free all the slaves on his plantation if it would not cause for them more harm than good. He expresses, “Some of them have wives and children on other plantations, and to free them is to separate them from their kith and kin. To let them remain here as free people is out of the question. My hands are tied by law and custom” (115). This argument, as Amy Lewis contends in The Life and Adventures of Henry Bibb, is very valid. She reveals that the decision to accept or escape into liberty was not a “clear binary choice” for enslaved people, but “a more complicated situation where the demands of family requir[ed] a more gradual path to emancipation and commitment to family might entirely block all routes to freedom” (Lewis 269). Similarly, in the beginning chapters of Iola Leroy, commitment to family is the reason the character Ben Tunnel would not join the group in an escape to freedom: “My mother…is the only thing that keeps me from going. If it had not been for her, I would have gone long ago” (82). Mr. Leroy communicates that his belief in gradual emancipation is related to a concern for the well-being of the enslaved people’s families, and therefore, the audience is clearly invited to sympathize with his perspective, as it is not only genuine but the necessary opinion of many enslaved people as well. Yet, it is not enough for Marie.
She responds to his statement, “my hands are tied by law and custom” with the question, “Who tied them?” (115). This small response evokes the same strong meaning from her previous arguments, drawing attention to the irony in Mr. Leroy’s belief that his hands are tied. By asserting this question, she juxtaposes Mr. Leroy’s tied hands with all those tied in the physical chains of slavery, evidently implying that of all those with tied hands, his are the most free and capable of enacting change. She then lays down her final question—the question Harper ostensibly presents throughout the entirety of the novel to those with the power to stand up, those who believe in emancipation to any degree, and possess the skin and gender to do something about it, those who live complacently in the irony of Mr Leroy’s arguments—“Why do you not battle against it?” (115).
March 16, 2020
Works Cited
Harper, Frances E. W. Iola Leroy; Or, Shadows Uplifted. Edited by Koritha Mitchell, Braodview Press, Ontario, 2018.
Lewis, Amy. “Who’ll Speak for Malinda?: Alternate Narratives of Freedom in The Life and Adventures of Henry Bibb.” African American Review, Volume 52, Number 3, Fall 2019, pp. 255-276.
Matthews, Victoria Earle. “The Value of Race Literature: An Address.” Edited by Fred Miller Robinson, The Massachusetts Review, Vol. 27, No. 2 (Summer, 1986), pp. 169-191.
Woolf, Virginia. A Room of One’s Own. Harcourt, Inc., New York, 1929.
[1] See Iola Leroy, Ch. X “Shadows in the Home;” Harper explains through the dialogue of Mr. and Mrs. Leroy the sentiments and state of these arguments. See also pp. 269-270 of Amy Lewis’ article, “Who’ll Speak for Malinda?” Lewis addresses the predicament of the separation of enslaved families.