Sites of Slavery: Citizenship and Racial Democracy in the Post-Civil Rights Imagination by Salamishah Tillet (review)

In a second-season flashback, viewers of Shonda Rhimes’s delicious soap opera Scandal finally become privy to African-American political fixer Olivia Pope’s reasons for (temporarily) abandoning her job and her affair with married white president Fitzgerald Grant, despite having helped steal the election for him. “I’m feeling a little Sally Hemings–Thomas Jefferson about all this,” she tells Fitz in a stolen hallway conversation. How does this rare historical invocation fit into Scandal’s optimistically postracial yet manifestly corrupt world? Salamishah Tillet’s penetrating study of the uses of slavery in African-American post–civil rights culture offers a means of approaching this question, suggesting that we might understand Rhimes’s show and other texts like it as complicated articulations of African Americans’ ambivalent dreams for American democracy in the post–civil rights era.

Tillet’s elegantly constructed book analyzes representations of slavery in the post–civil rights period by African-American authors, artists, and intellectuals as responses to the experience of “civil estrangement”: the paradox in which African Americans possess equality under the law but remain barred from American economic prosperity and the nation’s official myths, monuments, and histories. African-American post–civil rights representations of slavery respond to this paradox by advancing what Tillet terms “a democratic aesthetic,” a “mode of poetics and politics” (12) that critiques myths of American equality while simultaneously writing African Americans back into those narratives and revising them for a radically democratic future. In defining this aesthetic, Tillet explains that these representations neither idolize the past nor revere the state but rather advance a “critical patriotism,” one that incorporates elements of postmodern skepticism and Post-Soul aesthetics in order to advance a utopian dream of democracy while “remaining skeptical of its materialization” (12).

In her book’s first two chapters, Tillet investigates the deployment of this “democratic aesthetic” by interrogating post–civil rights revisions of antebellum icons. The first chapter traces how novelist Barbara Chase-Riboud, playwright Robert McCauley, and historian Annette Gordon-Reed reimagine Sally Hemings not as a victim or an empty symbol, but rather as a “radical black female subject” (23). These authors’ restagings of the interracial intimacy between Hemings and Jefferson, Tillet argues, revise sanitized myths of slavery and register post–civil rights civic disenfranchisement while casting Hemings as an agent of history and an ideal model for post–civil rights citizenship. In the second chapter, Tillet considers post–civil rights renditions of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom and Topsy, tracing how works by Ishmael Reed, Robert Alexander, Bill T. Jones, and Kara Walker use satire to puncture the hegemony of Stowe’s sentimentality while reimagining more complex Uncle Toms and Topsys.

Both of these chapters would make for excellent reading in undergraduate literature or composition classrooms, as Tillet organizes them in clearly framed sections that would offer undergraduates useful models for comparative analytical essays. The second chapter, however, is ultimately more compelling than the first, due to Tillet’s careful exploration of how the texts she discusses “are remembering slavery at different points in time” (85). She is beautifully attentive, for example, to how Reed’s 1976 Tom registers a cynical critique of the Black Power movement, while Alexander’s later reappropriation of Tom registers the frustration of the civic estrangement that arose after Rodney King’s beating. In contrast, such attention to shifting historical context is noticeably absent from Tillet’s first chapter. Further consideration of her authors’ revisions of Sally Hemings in relation to the different historical moments of their production (ranging from 1979 to 2008), particularly the evolving context of US feminisms, might have helped Tillet more fully account for the texts’ variegated presentations of the Hemings-Jefferson relationship.

The second half of Tillet’s book takes up more collective forms of remembering and representing slavery, considering post–civil rights African-American heritage tourism and African-American...