Review: Living the California Dream: African American Leisure Sites during the Jim Crow Era, by Alison Rose Jefferson

2021 ◽  
Vol 103 (3) ◽  
pp. 349-351
Author(s):  
Andrew W. Kahrl
Author(s):  
Kathryn H. Fuller-Seeley

African-American dancer, singer, comedian Eddie Anderson pursued an entertainment career in California, his opportunities limited by Jim Crow-era racism in Hollywood but also shaped opportunities in night clubs and cabarets that catered to both black and white patrons. Winning an audition for a one-time role on Benny’s radio show, Anderson’s inimitable gravelly voice spurred Benny to create a full time part, the character of Rochester Van Jones, Jack’s butler and valet, in late 1937. Although initially hampered by stereotyped minstrel-show dialogue and character habits, Rochester soon became renowned by both white and black listeners for his ability to criticize the “Boss” in impertinent manner. Virtually co-starred in three films with Benny that were highly successful at the box office, commenters in the black press in 1940 hoped that Rochester offered “a new day” in improved race relations.


2019 ◽  
Vol 124 (5) ◽  
pp. 1732-1748
Author(s):  
Drew Swanson

Abstract In the 1970s, American historical sites began to more thoroughly and critically interpret slavery’s history, with a few institutions employing living history as an interpretive form. At sites like Virginia’s Mount Vernon and Colonial Williamsburg, the hope is that these historical “impressions” will engage audiences with a more authentic or credible representation of racial bondage. An earlier wave of living historical representations of slavery suggest the challenges and hazards of embodied history, however. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, a significant number of southern sites employed African American interpreters who claimed to have been born into slavery, often on the very sites where they were currently working. Historical attractions used the “authenticity” and “credibility” of these interpreters to advance the narrative of a happy Old South. Historians have noted these performances as part of the sectional reconciliation of the Jim Crow era, but have rarely interpreted them as public history. Although the contemporary living history of slavery has different—and far better—goals than impressions of a century past, this long history of embodied bondage suggests the implicit dangers of interpreting slavery and race through living people.


Paragrana ◽  
2016 ◽  
Vol 25 (2) ◽  
pp. 162-173
Author(s):  
Lily Kelting

AbstractIn this essay, I examine frictions between the past, present and future which, in the tension between them, generate fictions which conflate not only Southern nostalgia with history but undergird American exceptionalism more broadly. These fictions generated by the rubbing together of past and present are not only nostalgic for a past that never existed but actively anti-historical, supplanting discrete periods in the history of the U.S. South (such as slavery, the Jim Crow Era, and the present day) with an intentionally confounded “temporal estrangement”. To trace the fault-lines at which nostalgia and history chafe against each other, I focus on the figure of the black waiter.As to my choice of the word black instead of African-American: as this article focuses explicitly on racial divides in American Southern history, I have chosen to use the word black rather than African-American. I see this move as a way to emphasize the lived consequences of racial difference for black Americans in the time period I analyze here – effects which, like the murder of Booker Wright, do not live in the hybrid space of the hyphen. My primary case study is Paula Deen’s legal deposition, taken in Savannah in 2013 after almost three years of legal proceedings. But in order to situate Deen’s fictions more fully within and beyond the context of the U.S. South, I read this deposition through and against two films, one largely-forgotten documentary, Mississippi: An Inside Story and one blockbuster, Forrest Gump.


2018 ◽  
Vol 53 (3) ◽  
pp. 683-702
Author(s):  
ROSEMARY PEARCE

J. H. Wilkins, an African American railroad porter for the Pullman Company, was killed while on duty in April 1930. How he met his death has never been fully determined, but the Pullman Company's investigation file exposes the dangerous and racialized emotional terrain that porters navigated daily on their journeys across the US. By examining Wilkins's death, and the work of Pullman porters more broadly, this article makes the case that white control of black emotions in occupational and public spaces was a significant characteristic of the Jim Crow era, and demands further scholarly attention.


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