At the Corner of Bourbon and Toulouse Street: The Historical Context of Alice Dunbar-Nelson's "M'sieu Fortier's Violin"

Alice Dunbar-Nelson's "M'sieu Fortier's Violin" does not on its surface seem an unusual or revolutionary work of short fiction. Her style is aesthetically pleasing and descriptive, but it is also conventional. She makes frequent use of dialect, but it is not as varied or distinctive as that of her contemporary Kate Chopin. The plot does not contain any unique surprises, and the chronology does not involve devices such as duplicative time or flashbacks. Even though Dunbar-Nelson was an African American woman who fought extensively for equal rights, "Fortier's Violin" reflects her preference to "always think of my folk characters as simple human beings, not as types of race or an idea."¹ On a profound level, however, the story grows from a complex era in history. When read with an understanding of late nineteenth-century New Orleans culture and society, "Fortier's Violin" proves to be a rich drama about loss, passion, and the pitfalls of social progress.

"Fortier's Violin" was first published in 1899 as part of The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories. Dunbar-Nelson wrote at least part of the collection during her mercurial marriage to Paul Laurence Dunbar, a fellow poet and author.² An unsigned New York Times article stated that Dunbar-Nelson completed the book while she and her husband were in Colorado. The Dunbars had traveled west while Paul was "endeavoring to regain his lost health."³ Some of the tales in The Goodness of St. Rocque are romantic and charming while others have a more sinister, world-weary feel. Perhaps Dunbar-Nelson channeled the emotional peaks and valleys of her life with Paul into The Goodness of St. Rocque: she dedicated it to "My best Comrade / My Husband."⁴ But this could also have been a gesture of gratitude; Dunbar-Nelson's career was bolstered by their union when "his agent and publisher became hers."⁵ While reading biography into an author's fiction carries with it many potential interpretive snares, Dunbar-Nelson's work was clearly inspired by her life in New Orleans. The action in eleven of the fourteen stories in the collection takes place in New Orleans.⁶ In narratives such as "Mr. Baptiste" and "Fortier's Violin," Dunbar-Nelson uses historical events as inspiration for settings and plot elements.⁷

In addition to being a poet and writer of fiction, Dunbar-Nelson was a scholar of history. She wrote a two-part essay entitled "People of Color in Louisiana" published in the Journal of Negro History.⁸ Perhaps the clearest explanation of her personal aesthetic, as well as her position on the use of historical material in fictional narratives, appears in her review of Gustave Flaubert's Salammbo. Dunbar-Nelson criticized Flaubert's style, remarking that the lack of sublimity his work inspired in her was "possibly . . . due to the peculiar shortness and crispness of the sentences, and the painstaking attention to details. Nothing is left for the imagination to complete."⁹ In her short stories, Dunbar-Nelson's sentences are often lengthy and her diction is generally simple. Her comment about the importance of allowing some details to be omitted, or "left for the imagination," is an indication that she expected her audience to bring their own knowledge and creativity to her work. On the other hand, she did not use omission to the same degree as "minimalist" authors such as Ernest Hemingway and Raymond Carver. Also apparent is that her resistance to Salammbo was in part due to its grotesque, realistic imagery: "Every page in this novel is crowded with details, often disgusting, which are generally left out in ordinary works. The hideous deformity, the rottenness and repulsiveness of the leper Hann [sic] is brought out in such vivid detail that we sicken and fain would turn aside in disgust."¹⁰ Even though other tales in The Goodness of St. Rocque contain violence and death (e.g., "Mr. Baptiste" and "Tony's Wife"), Dunbar-Nelson's depictions hardly qualify as gratuitous...