Alice Walker, Autobiographical Contract, and Sciences of Memory
Definition is essential.
What does womanist mean and
what is its relation to feminist? Does the assertion that womanist is to
feminist as purple is to lavender explain saturation
as a major difference in historical experience? The various essays, bits of interviews,
poetry (inside prose frames) and reviews collected in Alice Walker’ In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens (1983)
suggest an answer. They suggest that Walker the novelist is of a “revolutionary”
mind like a furious flower, is as serious as was Zora Neale Hurston, Audre
Lorde, and Toni Cade Bambara. These women assumed the freedom to create is an
entitlement of nature not of man. And they have the backing of words attributed
to Sojourner Truth in 1851: “Whar did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothin’ to do
wid Him.”
Walker’s attitude toward literature has a faint echo of Langston
Hughes’s “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain.” Do not confuse attitude with heritage. Mountains
are gendered property, and in Walker’s case, Sojourner Truth holds the
mortgage! Interpretation can take the guise of paying interest, escrow, and
principle.
Walker’s trope of the garden has a great deal to do with
memory and with the fact that canonized writers have no monopoly in cultivating
ART. Context requires remembering that Walker first broadcast ideas about
mothers and gardens at the 1973 Phillis Wheatley Festival in Jackson,
Mississippi and remembering I had taught The
Third Life of Grange Copeland the previous year. My memory of that event and of my teaching has
been reactivated by how the biologist Steven Rose commented on the Rosetta
Stone in The Making of Memory (1992):
Memory pervades ancient
ballads and modern novels alike.
Especially in the present century, from James Joyce and Marcel Proust to
the new writing of Margaret Atwood, of J. G. Ballard, Toni Morrison, Salman
Rushdie and Alice Walker, the theme of personal memory, of the constant
examination, interpretation, and reinterpretation of lived experience, is
central.
And Rose asked in the same paragraph: Or are
we doomed to live always in the divided worlds of subjectivity and objectivity,
with no translation possible between these
languages? (7)
Mother transmits the seed of art and the desire to grow it
into ART to daughter. We are expected to
read the fine print in the title essay “In Search of Our Mother’s Gardens” as
Walker’s autobiographical contract.
Walker’s recent thinking about her autobiographical contract
appears in the appended reader’s guide for Now Is the Time to Open Your Heart (2004). Asked what inspired her to write the novel,
Walker replied: “So in Now Is the Time to Open Your Heart I set
out to chart such a journey, the adventures of Kate Nelson Talkingtree, who is
named partly for a grandmother, my father’s mother, who was murdered when he
was a boy.” This novel incorporates
Walker’s quest for the culture of the Grandmother, her keeping the faith with
the autobiographical contract. Through
fiction, Walker provisionally confirms Steven Rose’s idea that sciences of the collective
-- “ecology and ethnology, sociology and economics” (7-8) -- are
better instruments than the sciences of “individual psychology or neuroscience”
(7) for exploring the nature of memory. The jury is still out, however, on any
permanent conjoining of subjectivity and objectivity, inside or outside of
fictions.
Jerry
W. Ward, Jr. August 31, 2013
