Friday, April 25, 2014

12 Years a Slave, Fidelity, Pt. 3 (Final Blog Post)


Another divergence in fidelity frequently discussed among critics occurs following Northup’s initial kidnapping, aboard a steamship bound for Louisiana. A lecherous sailor enters the hold and attempts to rape a slave woman, causing a male slave to intervene. The sailor kills him without a second thought, an inclusion that seems unlikely, as slaves were obviously valuable property, and the sailor had no claim to him. 


This dubious addition—in the novel, Solomon’s co-conspirator on the boat dies of tuberculosis—raised numerous questions regarding the scene’s fidelity, even amongst critics unfamiliar with the novel, simply due to its historical improbability.

It seems plausible that this alteration was made in an attempt to heighten the drama of Northup’s voyage, as death by tuberculosis isn’t necessarily explosive or shocking. But Noah Berlatsky of The Atlantic raised a possibility I hadn’t considered; it is noted that after being stricken with tuberculosis himself, Northup’s face was noticeably scarred for the remainder of his life. Berlatsky speculated that this alteration was made so that Ejiofor’s “beautiful, expressive, haunting features” would not go through the remainder of the film covered in scar make-up. Personally, I think the real answer is a combination of both theories.

One of McQueen’s most discussed—and controversial—departures from fidelity occurs early in the film, via flash-forward, as we witness the recently kidnapped Solomon Northup engage in an unexpected sexual encounter with an unknown slave woman (played by Vivian Fleming-Alvarez). The discomfort is almost tangible during this painful sexual episode, in which the woman uses Northup’s hand to bring herself to climax. The pain and confusion are intelligibly emoted by the expression on Northup’s face, and Chiwetel Ejiofor’s performance in this scene—and the film as a whole—brilliantly conveys the fear and incertitude inherent to a slave’s existence (particularly one who was, in reality, a free man).

Despite her marginal role, Vivian Fleming-Alvarez also does a fine job illustrating the collective confusion and despondence of the situation. The audience clearly sees her desperation, and it is significant to note that once the sexual act is complete, she immediately turns away with tears in her eyes. It serves as a painful reminder that slavery was truly a horrifying existence, and what little solace could be found was ephemeral (at best). Coupled with Northup’s pronounced reserve, the hopelessness conveyed by Fleming-Alvarez contributes to a scene meant to demonstrate the fierce dehumanization of slavery.

As is the case with the majority of the film, this scene is depicted with unflinching realism. The camera refuses to move or sway, forcing the audience to absorb the scene as it unfolds. An analogous example can be found in the scene where Northup is nearly hanged, and remains in the noose with his feet barely supporting him. Both scenes make use of an unmoving camera, and long shot lengths that almost beg for a cut (to a new shot).

Regarding the inclusion of this scene, McQueen said: “I just wanted a bit of tenderness—the idea of this woman reaching out for sexual healing in a way, to quote Marvin Gaye. She takes control of her own body. Then after she’s climaxed, she’s back where she was. She’s back in hell, and that’s when she turns and cries.”

I personally found this addition somewhat counterintuitive to the portrayal of Solomon, as it raises potential questions regarding his character (this is not Solomon resigning to his fate as a slave, that comes later when he reluctantly joins the slave song) and seemingly undermines his unrelenting, singular desire to return home to his wife and children.

Despite the powerful sense of psychological realism evoked through the inclusion of this scene, the encounter is entirely fictitious. It should be noted that during the era in which Northup’s memoir was published, the inclusion of any idea remotely suggesting infidelity on his part—true or false—would have torpedoed Northup’s credibility as a narrator, and raised significant questions regarding the accuracy of his entire story. So while it remains possible that Northup was unfaithful to his wife at some point, there is nothing in his memoir—or anywhere else—to suggest this. 

The issue of credibility was especially important given the nature of Northup’s biography. In his book From Behind the Veil, Robert Stepto distinguishes Northup’s memoir from other slave narratives of the era as “integrated” and “sophisticated” by comparison, not building a narrative around prefaces, letters, and other documents, but by following a “unified single text and voice.” This meant the reliability of Northup’s account was of the utmost importance if his narrative was to be given any credence, because his is the only voice we hear. Thomas Doherty identified the primary purpose of the slave narrative: “to rebuke the institution of slavery and the racist ideology that sustained it.” Northup’s credibility had to be resolute to achieve this purpose through an integrated narrative. 

It is interesting to note that while this scene is touched upon in numerous reviews, it seems to have been a more substantial point of friction among critics familiar with Northup’s memoir. While I am a firm believer that fidelity is an overused criterion for evaluation, in this case I understand the contention. I am a staunch supporter of films that attempt to distinguish themselves from their source, but not at the potential cost of the protagonist’s character. 

It is difficult to dispute the impact of this scene in presenting a nuanced look at the desperate conditions inherent to slavery. The scene successfully lends itself to McQueen’s unrelenting sense of realism, but remains controversial in that it demonstrates psychological depth and turmoil by constructing a potentially character-defining event that didn’t actually occur. 



Works Cited 
 
Berlatsky, Noah. “How 12 Years a Slave Gets History Right: By Getting It Wrong.” The Atlantic (2013). Web. 23 Apr. 2014.

Doherty, Thomas. “Bringing The Slave Narrative To Screen: Steve McQueen and John Ridley’s Searing Depiction of America’s Peculiar Institution.” Cineaste 39.1 (2013): 4-8. Academic Search Premier. Web. 24 Apr. 2014.

Raitt, George. “Still Lusting After Fidelity?.” Literature Film Quarterly 38.1 (2010): 47-58. Academic Search Premier. Web. 22 Apr. 2014.

Stepto, Robert B. From Behind the Veil: A Study of Afro-American Narrative. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1979.

Thomson, David.  “What Do We Expect Of A Best Picture?.”  New Republic 244.23 (2014):  64-66. Academic Search Premier.  Web. 21 Apr. 2014.

Weiner, Jonah. “The Liberation of Steve McQueen.” Rolling Stone 1202 (2014): 44-47. Academic Search Premier. Web. 22 Apr. 2014.

Williams, Chad L. “Solomon Northup’s Odyssey.” Humanities 35.1 (2014): 16-52. Academic Search Premier. Web. 21 Apr. 2014.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Travis Bickle

Travis Bickle
Taxi Driver (1976)