Movable Type Fall 2016 - Edition 4.1 by MovableType UVA

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MOVABLE TYPE -

EDITION 4.1

FALL 2016

social Media, Social Issues, Social Life

06 14 24 30

“the imagined community” jack carlin, class of 2017

“FRANK OCEAN, FOLK HERO FOR A NEW GENERATION” MARIA COSENTINO, CLASS OF 2016

"STEREOTYPES IN ELITE SQUAD II: THE ENEMY WITHIN THEIR EFFECTS ON BROADER SOCIETY" ALISON LENERT, CLASS OF 2016 “IS THIS LOVE? MCKAY AND MARLEY’S USE OF NATURE AND SEX TO EXPLORE BLACK LOVE” JASMINE WILLIS,, CLASS OF 2016 3

Executive Editor

Media Studies and American Studies Major, Leadership Minor Class of 2018 If you could make up a media studies course, what would it be? “Comedy Writing” Most used social media platform? Tie between Snapchat and VSCO Favorite film? The Grand Budapest Hotel

camille sides Executive Editor Media Studies Major Class of 2017

If you could make up a media studies course, what would it be? “EVOLUTION OF ADVERTISING” Most used social media platform? I’m not into social media Favorite film? Rosewater

georgia adam assistant Editor

Media Studies and American Studies Major, Class of 2018 If you could make up a media studies course, what would it be? “Producing the short film” Most used social media platform? Snapchat Favorite film? I Really enjoyed joy and spotlight from last winter

Dylan Bedsaul

Meet the Staff

DESIGNER

Media Studies DMP Class of 2018 If you could make up a media studies course, what would it be? “Intro to digital design” Most used social media platform? Depends on the day Favorite film? O Brother, where art thou?

MARTHA GILL SUBMISSIONS COORDINATOR

Media Studies DMP and politics (Government Track) Class of 2018 If you could make up a media studies course, what would it be? “Creative Producing for independent film” OR “This is American Life: Podcast storytelling” Most used social media platform? Snapchat Favorite film? Steel Magnolias

CARRIE WEST Social media coordinator

Media Studies dmp, french minor Class of 2018 If you could make up a media studies course, what would it be? “history and politics of reality television” Most used social media platform? Instagram Favorite film? Amelie

NATALIE BEAM Peer-Reviewers: Olivia Cannell, Madeline Speirs, Allison Elder, Janine Docimo Faculty Advisor: Christopher Ali The Student Executive Team would like to thank our Media Studies Faculty Advisor Professor Christopher Ali and his dog Tuna for providing us with guidance and support throughout the semester.

THE IMAGIN COMMU OF TWI 06

NED UNITY ITTER

BY Jack Carlin

In his book Imagined Communities (1983), Benedict Anderson introduces the concept of the ‘imagined community’ as a means of analyzing nationalism and explaining the emergence of the nation-state. Although Anderson focuses primarily on print culture and the emergence of print media as factors in the formation of imagined communities, his ideas can be applied to more contemporary media, in this case, the social media platform Twitter. Can Twitter, like print before, be considered a “new way of linking fraternity, power and time meaningfully together” or are notions of community incongruent with social media technologies of today? By examining the extent to which Twitter aligns with Anderson’s concept of an imagined community and the elements necessary for said community’s formation, this paper aims to validate Twitter as an imagined community despite a key inconsistency with Anderson’s conceptual framework. The first of Anderson’s qualifications for the existence of an imag-

ined community is the development of a common language. Historically, Anderson points out, the vast territories dominated by certain religions — “Ummah Islam from Morocco to the Sulu Archipelago… Christendom from Paraguay to Japan” — “were imaginable largely through the medium of a sacred language and written script” that were linked to a “superterrestrial [sic] order of power.” However, with the development of the printing press and the increase of printed material, written, not in Latin but in vernacular languages like French or German, “the sacred communities integrated by old sacred languages were gradually fragmented, pluralized, and territorialized.” This is important for Anderson’s examination of how individuals came to identify with each other under their common vernacular language, and how that common identity fostered the emergence of nationalism. Comparably, the widespread adoption and use of vernacular languages on social media platforms constitute a similar ‘development of common language’

that Anderson posits as a key element of community formation. Twitter’s common language, “Twitterspeak” as Anatoliy Gruzd calls it, is the set of linguistic conventions constructed by Twitter participants that non-users may find indecipherable, thus placing them outside of the Twitter community. For example, the ‘#’ symbol has been known historically as the ‘number sign’ (ex. answer question #2) or the ‘pound sign,’ but with Twitter, the ‘#’ symbol is attached to keywords or phrases “so as to identify messages on a particular topic” (#Olympics2016, #FreeEgypt, etc.), that are searchable and accessible. The ‘#’ symbol in this context is known as a ‘hashtag.’ In terms of the Egyptian protests of 2010-2011, in which Twitter played a vital organizational and informational role, keywords associated with the revolution such as ‘Mubarak’ or ‘Tahrir Square’ “represent the Twitter vocabulary—that shared body of

words and their associated meanings — immediately decipherable to those participating in the online protest conversations.” Other examples include “‘RT’ — to signify a ‘retweeted’ or forwarded message, ‘via’ to signify a highly edited message, and @name to identify the username of whom you are talking about.” Though there exists this notion of Twitterspeak as a unifying characteristic of the Twitter community, one doesn’t have to “speak Twitter” in order to be understood. However, the common language

convention — Twitter vernacular — “is important for facilitating productive conversations and identifying oneself as part of the overall Twitter community” estimated at 175 million users worldwide. In addition to conceptions of common languages, Anderson highlights the presence of homogeneous time — “a consciousness of a shared temporal dimension in which [people] coexist”—as another key element of community formation. Anderson focuses on the novel to illustrate how, in a story, many different acts “are performed at the same clocked, calendrical [sic] time, but by actors who may

be largely unaware of one another.” Carrying that idea further, he demonstrates how the format of the newspaper with the date at the top — “the single most important emblem on it” — provides the essential connection between seemingly unconnected events, peoples, places, etc., with the “steady onward clocking of homogeneous, empty time.” The example Anderson uses of a New York Times front-page story of famine in Mali expresses this idea wonderfully: If Mali disappears from the pages of the NYT after two days of famine reportage, for months on end, readers do not

for a moment imagine that Mali has disappeared or that famine has wiped out all its citizens. The novelistic format of the newspaper assures them that somewhere out there the ‘character’ Mali moves along quietly, awaiting its next reappearance in the plot. Similar to the newspaper offering bits of information from around the world, “Twitter is very much a stream of many consciousnesses [sic] uttering messages.” If one of those consciousnesses (a Twitter user) disappears from another user’s timeline, the user is (however subconsciously) aware that the other is not gone forever. And though he may not know what another user is doing when he isn’t actively tweeting about it, “he has complete confidence in [his] steady, anonymous, simultaneous activity.” The very existence of a Twitter user’s ‘timeline’ speaks volumes about Anderson’s idea of homogeneous, shared time and the existence of an imagined community. The timeline is a continuously updated, real-time feed of posts. A user scrolls through his/her timeline chronologically with the newest tweets at the top—the only exception (without diving into the algorithms of Twitter’s timeline) being

retweeted tweets that appear on the timeline when they are retweeted by a user you follow, not when they were originally tweeted (by a user you may not follow). When you are away from Twitter, you know that the timeline doesn’t stop updating. On average, around 6,000 tweets are tweeted every second — that’s 350,000 per minute, 500 million per day, 200 billion per year. Of course, a user’s timeline only displays tweets from those he follows, and nobody follows all 175 million users, but the idea is the same. New York Times columnist David Carr helps visualize Twitter’s constantly updated feed of information in saying, “It is a river of data rushing past that I dip a cup into every once in a while.” Twitter capitalizes on the idea of shared experience and “is already among the best places online for consuming news and commentary about live events,” only adding to the sense of communally experienced happenings. Whether it is the entire Twitter community or a single user’s “local community” of followers and followed, the “consciousness of a shared temporal dimension” exists despite physical distance and user anonymity. Twitter possesses and

exhibits both notions of homogeneous time and common language in congruence with Anderson’s qualifications of community formation, but the last qualification, a decentralized structure, complicates the imagined community of Twitter. Anderson posited that the decline of monarchy — which derived legitimacy “from divinity” instead of populations, who weren’t citizens, but subjects — contributed to a new concept of society that needn’t be organized around a “high center.” As an Internet-based social media platform, Twitter, like Facebook, “represents a decentralized structure where anyone is free to follow anyone else…and free to restrict access to their account by blocking ‘outsiders.’” From this perspective, “almost all Twitter users have the same user privileges and can access the same set of features on the website.” However, not all accounts are created equal. There are ‘high centers’ of the Twitter community — the most popular accounts (celebrities, media companies, etc.) amass a much larger following than the average, everyday Twitter user. Unsurprisingly, the Twitter accounts with the most followers, as of January 2016, were all celebri-

ties (and all in the music industry); Katy Perry (@katyperry, 80 million followers), Justin Bieber (@justinbieber, 72.8 million followers), and Taylor Swift (@taylorswift13, 68.5 million followers). The next highest is Barack Obama with 67.85 million followers. Twitter users follow accounts for a variety of reasons, but one major purpose is to stay informed, thereby creating, or adding to, their imagined community by including sources of news, information, or gossip — CNN Breaking news, @cnnbrk, 34.8 million followers, @espn, 25 million followers. Such accounts are, more often than not, ‘verified’ by an official blue tick badge located next to the username that is meant to designate and establish the authenticity of identities — much like crowns and scepters identified monarchs of old. Of course, having more followers means that more people see that user’s tweets, but Twitter allows information to disseminate even further through retweets, thereby expanding the imagined community to people even more physically removed from the user. The most retweeted tweet ever comes from @TheEllenShow whose group ‘selfie’ from the

2014 Academy Awards amassed 3,337,249 retweets. “Not only is the original tweet seen by the followers of that account” (@TheEllenShow has 58 million), Johnson explains, “the potential number of readers increases exponentially with each re-tweet” as each user who retweets the original tweet makes it visible to all of his/her followers, and so on. It’s no surprise, then, why Twitter “[provides] the most effective means to date for organizing protestors in nations with oppressed peoples and repressed freedom of speech.” Johnson’s claims may seem utopic, but she isn’t wrong in highlighting Twitter’s impact and significance as an information source — 63% of Americans say they get their news from Twitter, and 59% say they follow breaking news on Twitter, lending credit to the view that “Twitter’s great strength is providing as-it-happens coverage and commentary on live events.” Another high center, though not an individual, is the Twitter curated ‘Moments’ tab, through which a user can see, according to the app itself, “the best stories happening on Twitter.” Gruzd accurately concludes, “although abandoning high centers

was associated with community formation in Anderson’s times, high centers play important roles in Twitter as community builders and information sources.” The imagined community of Twitter, whether it be the 175 million users worldwide, or the much, much smaller, but still imagined ‘local community’ of the average user, exemplifies Anderson’s criteria for community formation. Where it diverges, in the existence of high centers around which the community is oriented, doesn’t make it less of an imagined community. Instead, as this paper has hoped to partially demonstrate, the high centers of Twitter foster the creation of community concentrated around cradles of information, news, and celebrity. Interestingly enough, according to Gruzd, Twitter was imagined as “a simple tool to share updates with others on the Internet.” Its ability to “support the development of online communities…and to form new social connections or maintain existing ones” may not have been anticipated, but that hardly makes it any less real.

FRANK OCEAN, FOLK HERO FOR A NEW GENERATION 14

by maria cosentino

There once existed a time in the scope of American music when the love of storytelling, through chords, beats, and honest lyrics, drove an integrated group of musicians to travel around the country and share their art with audiences. This was a time when authenticity meant little more than the ability to memorize and aptly perform an expansive repertoire of songs for people that wanted to hear music and a lot of it. The idea of a professional musician superseded racial classification and welcomed a fluidity of influences and styles. Successful musicians played together, learned from each other, and did not care about what would come to be coined as “authentic folk music.” The rise of the recording industry in the 1920s, a largely Northern expedition, along with de facto segregation in the South, would define the segregation of folk music into race music and hillbilly music, or

black and white, respectively. This divide would endure decades of new genres, vastly differing definitions of pop music, and countless artists classified by industry values and market decisions. Many acts have found great success by navigating within this paradigm, but some of the more truly successful artists have flourished by subverting the system, consciously or not. Frank Ocean is one such character. As fans and the larger community of music appreciators impatiently await his next move, a sophomore album that was promised months ago, a look back on his writing credits, collaborations, membership in the Odd Future clan, critically acclaimed mixtape Nostalgia, Ultra, Grammy-winning concept album Channel Orange, and what appears to be his authentic persona are worth analyzing under the framework of the common themes and stereotypes of his Grammy category “Urban Contemporary,” if only to note that he transcends the industry-defined terms of this classification. Through his consummate storytelling and eccentric choice of

sampling and collaboration, Ocean is far more reminiscent of the traveling musicians of the early twentieth century than he is of his urban contemporaries. Born in Long Beach, California and raised in New Orleans until Hurricane Katrina caused him to drop out of college and move to Los Angeles to pursue a career in songwriting, Ocean boasts a musical journey to which certain affectations of the urban category can be applied. Truth be told, he certainly has experience with city life. Given that his entire career exists solely in the past decade, the industry could sort him neatly into the contemporary category as well. Urban Contemporary as a radio format euphemism for music marketed towards young black people, though, is far too simplistic a categorization for

Oceanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s work, unless pop chart success is the only qualification. His most contemporary characteristic is perhaps his most archaic, in that he grapples with the notion of authenticity in a way that predates the segregation of American music, before, as Karl Hagstrom Miller recounts, â&#x20AC;&#x153;music developed a color line.â&#x20AC;? Similarly to the mysterious folk-blues hero Robert Johnson

who allegedly “did anything he heard on the radio…popular songs, ballads, blues, anything,” Ocean pulls from a wide range of genres, such as rock, electronica, pop, and R&B, to create his own musical pastiche of sound. Much like Johnson, it seems “if he [likes] it, he [does] it.” To this tune, Ocean has written for, collaborated with, and sampled fellow urban contemporaries Brandy, Beyoncé, John Legend, Kanye West, and Jay Z, along with titans of the more stereotypically white genres, including John Mayer, Coldplay, MGMT, Mr. Hudson, and, much to their antiquated chagrin, the Eagles. His effortless genre bending complicates his position as a popular African-American musician, a category that has been “essentially bifurcated between rhythm and blues and hip-hop, with jazz drifting about as a sort of quirky and aloof third party.” Ocean’s music is much more than those genres, as evidenced by the first track on his debut mixtape “Strawberry Swing,” which features the nostalgic sentimentality

of childhood storytelling over a sample of the Coldplay song of the same name. There is nothing markedly urban about this song, except perhaps the hip-hop technique used to create its aesthetic. Its defining features are a reminiscent Ocean sweetly singing about how he “loved the good times here” and an alarm clock waking him from his lovely dream. His two other contemporary samples, MGMT and Mr. Hudson, explicate one common theme of R&B and one oft left for moody ballad treatment, respectively. “Nature Feels” features Ocean reimagining the story of Adam and Eve as his own metaphorical, yet explicit sexual experience over the untouched beat of “Electric Feel.” On “There Will Be Tears,” Ocean adds a more optimistic beat to Mr. Hudson’s 808’s-esque song of the same name, but immensely sadder lyrics about the loss of his grandfather. The expression of true and honest emotion about loss and coping with the fear of admitting such sadness is a rarity in the popular form. This amalgamation of stylis-

tic forms and lyrical topics reveals a sense of “polyculturalism,” in which “cultures [are] layered, blended, and sounded together like the polyrhythms of a jazz song or a DJ riding the cross-fader.” Ocean is not limited to the scope of his Grammy category, but instead driven by the annals of his storytelling predecessors. It is in this storytelling that Ocean excels and exceeds his contemporaries. After an interview with the artist, Rebecca Nicholson writes of his skill in this area. “Music, more than any other art form, demands autobiography: we want our singers to be giving us authentic love or pain; we want to believe it’s first-hand,” she claims. Ocean complicates this authenticity, because in some cases, he merely bears witness to the topics of his writing. In an interview for The New York Times, he advocates for a sentiment that antagonizes notions of popularity and musical stardom championed by hip-hop and pop music. “As a lifestyle, you always being the focal point is innately un-

healthy,” he opines, so through his music, he paints florid pictures of the lives of others. Bearing resemblance to his contemporary Rick Ross, whose exposure as a correctional officer “buried a certain romantic/literalist conception of gangsta rap as a nonfiction medium,” Ocean crafts tales about what he has seen, sometimes secondhand, often adopting the narrative as his own through his delivery. His debut album weaves the stories of “Super Rich Kids,” drugs addicts and peddlers alike, and native Africans together seamlessly into a concept that, from a critically distant perspective, has little to do with his own autobiographical anecdotes and much more to do with the oral tradition of storytelling itself. On “Sweet Life,” Ocean preaches to his presumed love interest about her charmed upbringing, “keepin’ it surreal” in the “black Beverly Hills.” Choosing the setting of Ladera Heights, an area historical-

ly marked by black affluence, is a decidedly racial distinction followed by lyrics about the subjected character always having lived a privileged life. The story continues on “Super Rich Kids,” as Ocean croons and his Odd Future pal Earl Sweatshirt raps about the dark side of this privilege, having access to luxury cars and too much money to spend on cocaine and Xanax, with only the maid around for guidance. “Don’t believe us, treat us like we can’t erupt,” raps Earl. The pair of songs is meant to remind the audience that not only white kids can be rich, and not only poor kids can have problems. The two artists present an idea that is more generational than anything. For a generation that has been coddled and conditioned to need love and validation from guiding, adult figures, the absence of such privileges leads to dangerous excess, an idea that may not have a racial component for these artists and their fans. The themes of excess and drug use flow through the next several songs on Channel Orange. “Pilot Jones” addresses the struggle between two lovers torn over one’s insistence on using and dealing and the other’s apprehen-

sive acceptance. “Crack Rock” is a display of masterful wordplay on a sensitive, depressing, and very real topic that has unevenly and exorbitantly affected the black community, including Ocean’s grandfather. The song represents one of Ocean’s rare explicit but poignant dips into social commentary. “You’re shuckin’ and jivin,’ stealin’ and robbin’ to get the fixing that you’re itching for,” he writes of the users that he knew from his grandfather’s NA meetings before delivering the blow of the lines “crooked cop, dead cop, how much dope can you push to me.” He comments on the hypocrisy of the effect that one dead cop would have on the public, while “[his] brother get popped and don’t no one hear the sound,” a fact that rang particularly true around the time of the song’s release coinciding with the death of Trayvon Martin. It is in a song like “Crack Rock” that Ocean uses his talent of communication to address societal issues that affect both one layer of his identity as a young black man in America, and the larger fabric of the nation as a whole. His critique of institutional and structural issues is key to his subversion not only of racial divides but also of the system itself that allowed for the division

in the first place. Ocean’s particularity about lyrical themes stems beyond his love of a good story and into the necessity of truth to one’s identity. Brackett writes on the subject of authenticity of musicians, “it may be part of our common mythology that there is always a ‘deeper,’ more ‘authentic’ self lying behind a person’s public façade.” In the liner notes for Channel Orange, written in December of 2011, Ocean admits, “I wanted to create worlds that were rosier than mine. I tried to channel overwhelming emotions” emotions about his first love at age nineteen; another man aged nineteen, who did not reciprocate the feelings of the storyteller. The album was released a week in advance so Ocean, ever the champion of new media, turned his liner notes into a Tumblr post to address the use of certain pronouns on the album, in the name of altruism and his personal sanity. Hiphop, rap, and R&B have not always been receptive to same-sex love; in fact, many artists have expressed

outright homophobia in lyrics and interviews. Ocean’s governing hip-collective complicates the issue with Odd Future’s outspoken leader Tyler, the Creator’s gross overuse of homophobic epithets in his lyrics and the group’s inclusion of Syd the Kid’s same-sex relationship in the video for “Cocaine.” Karamo Brown explains the issue as larger than an “urban” music one, but as a societal one, writing, “homophobia, racism, and sexism are all rooted in the same oppression that causes a group of people to internalize the oppression they’ve experienced and then continue the cycle of violence. Simply put, hurt people hurt people.” Nicholson argues that “we rarely hear overtly same-sex songs, no matter what the genre.” Hence, Ocean not only subverts the latent homophobia in the recent history of “black music,” he also brings same-sex relationships to the fore as a topic included in critically acclaimed, award-winning pop music in general, slighting the heteronormative, patriarchal industry as a whole, and inviting a new generation of artists to come out alongside him. Ocean first addresses the topic on his mixtape with the song “We All Try,” a classic R&B song over

simple guitar instrumentation and a beat, with an atypical message. On this song, Ocean expresses his beliefs ranging from a woman’s right to choose, to marriage equality, nearly five years before the Supreme Court recognized the latter and long before the voting majority will acknowledge the former. Ocean juxtaposes his Christian beliefs in heaven and that “Jehovah Jireh,” the Lord will provide, with modern ideas of equality in a way that only few before his generation have been able to do. As he graduates to Channel Orange, he is ready for specifics, to spill his truth amidst the other stories on the album. The first song is “Thinkin Bout You,” a heartfelt admission, a conversation with the man who could not admit reciprocity, which quickly turns into the coolly delivered defensive of the scorned. “No I don’t like you, I just thought you were cool enough to kick it,” he lies. “I just thought you were cute, that’s why I kissed you,” he continues, hurt. The deeply saddening yearning of the falsetto chorus, “or do you not think so far ahead, cus I been thinking bout forever,” fades into the passion-laden bridge with

Ocean devastatingly admitting, “you know you were my first time, a new feel” to no avail. Moving forward through the album, Ocean distracts the audience, and perhaps himself, from this heartbreak with a series of adventures through “Sierra Leone,” Southern California, Egypt, “Amsterdam, Tokyo, Spain,” Tibet, the sky, and beyond, until he crashes and burns on “Bad Religion.” The song opens with an organ, daunting in its reminiscence of a Catholic confessional juxtaposed with the actual taxicab confessional tone of the lyrics. He equates “this unrequited love” to a “one-man cult, and cyanide in [a] Styrofoam cup.” It is all-consuming and torturing; it “brings [him] to [his] knees.” He laments, “I can never make him love me,” the last two words repeating over and over again as they fade hauntingly into the organ . This storyline continues into “Forrest Gump,” using the imagery of the titular character’s athletic achievements to reflect the relentless occupation of Ocean’s mind by his first love: “you run my mind, boy, runnin on my mind boy.” Some say that coming out like this was a risk. Ocean says, “I won’t touch on risky, because that’s subjective…sure, evil exists, extremism exists. Somebody could commit a hate crime

and hurt me. But they could do the same just because I’m black. They could do the same just because I’m American,” insisting that he lives his life outside of these fears, just as much as he exists outside of “conventional music genres.” Ocean’s existence beyond the confines of traditional genres and notions of “black” and “white” music is made abundantly clear through the way he chooses to present himself on the national stage of live televised events. Just hours after Channel Orange was made available for streaming, his debut television performance was the poignant “Bad Religion” with backing instrumentals from a small, formally dressed string section and four members of the Roots on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. He followed this intensely personal rendition with a stint on Saturday Night Live. His first song “Thinkin Bout You” featured the rare perfect live falsetto of an SNL performer and guitar backing from John Mayer. “Pyramids” took on some psychedelic guitar licks, an impassioned solo from the aforementioned virtuoso, and the short attention span supposedly indicative of a generation as Ocean left his position at the microphone to play one of the arcade games surreptitiously en-

circling the performers. Upgrading his Cali skater style and signature rolled bandana to a yellow suit and sweatband for his Grammy performance of “Forrest Gump,” the thread that links his lives performances from those months remains taut. On each of the three national, widely viewed platforms, Ocean performed a song about his unrequited love for another man, and he did so by combining stylistic elements from various genres of music, with help from huge stars and little-known orchestral players alike, to create an inclusive piece of music, lyrically and sonically. His career, his persona, and his body of work reflect this sense of inclusion, a product more of his generation than any industrially-imposed racial lines, a generation that understands racial divide because it lives it, but hopefully one that aims to transcend it through acknowledgement of differences and collaboration across these lines.

Stereotypes in Elite Squad II:

The Enemy Within and Their Effects in Broader Society by Alison Lenert 24

In attempts to expose the problematic reality of urban violence in Brazil, directors often depict on screen the subjective violence and criminality that occurs in the streets and in favelas. There is question as to whether or not this type of representation does more harm than good for the people who suffer within this society plagued by urban violence, given that such representations exist as manifestations of the talk of crime and perpetuate preexisting stereotypes about the groups of people represented. In Elite Squad II, José Padilha does not highlight the subjective violence committed by young, black residents of the favela, but instead makes explicit the film’s purpose to expose the systemic foundation of violence that trickles from the powerful elite down to the lower tiers of society. However, though Elite Squad II focuses almost entirely on the gross violence committed by the wealthy, white, elite, this in and of itself perpetuates stereotypes about poor, black men – their limited roles in the film suggests that they are simply criminals who end up dead or in prison, not in positions of power where they would even be able to corrupt the system. Addi-

tionally, through its representation of corrupt politicians, the film also perpetuates stereotypes about this elite group of society. As the mostviewed film in Brazilian history and one seen widely worldwide, Elite Squad II’s representation perpetuates stereotypes about multiple groups of people within Brazilian society and its implications transcend the narrative and influence everyday life. In Elite Squad II, the narrative is much more complex than in films like City of God, but its message is simple: the system (in all of its facets – social, political, criminal) is corrupt. Throughout the film, the language of Nascimento’s narration leaves little question as to who the true perpetrators of violence are in Brazilian society; he explicitly implicates the system of corrupt elites in various phrases like “that’s how the system works” or “[I need to] take down the system” once he realizes it’s at fault. But, in the film, the system is made up entirely of wealthy, middle-aged, white men. In Elite Squad II poor and/ or black men and children play an insignificant role in the narrative; aside from Mathias, who is killed halfway through, the only black

men shown are the drug dealers locked up and killed in prison. This is problematic in more than one way. First, the only poor, black men shown are represented as violent criminals, which perpetuates the same stereotypes as in other movies like City of God. Secondly, aside from this small and negative representation, Elite Squad II eliminates the presence and voice of black and youth characters from the narrative. One could see this as a variation of Wilkinson’s first response to dealing with the “Other” – allowing the Other to speak for himself so as not to silence him through representation by the dominant group – but this tactic results in the silencing of the Other all together. This silencing, in conjunction with the limited visibility of black characters who are either violent or unable to survive in positions of power, draws pointed attention to these negative stereotypes in the film and concretizes them in our minds. In silencing the black man and primarily representing the white elite, the film also brings to the forefront stereotypes about these members of Brazilian society who hold positions of power. In Elite Squad II, we see not only the

exposed corruption and systemic violence in Brazil, but the subjective violence committed by the police officers themselves as a direct extension of this systemic violence. For instance, when the police form a militia to take over the drug trade in a nearby favela, we see them kill the former drug dealers for the policemen’s own crimes. Said argues in “Orientalism” that one must study the forces of power in society in order to look at the “Orient.” But, by focusing so heavily on the corrupt system, Padilha’s representation not only perpetuates stereotypes about the black people in the favela, but also about the white men at the top of Brazilian society. Both groups are generalized for the sake of narrative development. Nascimento is the only character who sees, from inside the system, that the system as something that must be stopped. Everyone else – the police, the politicians – are involved in the corruption and scheming. The film implies that this is just how it is at the top – instead of working to serve the interests of people they are elected to represent, those in power work toward the betterment of their own lives at the expense of their people.

These generalized representations – both of the poor, black members of society and the elite, white men in power – have consequences that transcend the scope of their narratives. Upon its release, Elite Squad II quickly became the most successful Brazilian film of all time. These representations are simply constructions of reality created by Padilha (a white, Oxford-educated filmmaker) – constructions circulated not only across Brazil, but also around the world. By depicting these people in a fictional narrative, the film becomes a manifestation of the talk of crime, which Caldeira defines as “everyday conversations, commentaries, discussions, narratives, and jokes that have crime and fear as their subject.” Elite Squad II’s widespread reach instigates further talk of crime amongst those who view and discuss its representations. This is extremely problematic; not only does it perpetuates stereotypes among those who have no contextual understanding of the social situation of Brazil outside of such fictional representations, but it also perpetuates them among the Brazilian people themselves. The effects of the talk of crime are broad. Caldeira states, the talk

of crime “enforces authoritarianism and segregation, stirs up prejudices and racism, and naturalizes social inequalities.” In Elite Squad II, the limited representation of black men and the focus on the white elite evidently contributes to the perpetuation of these ideas. As someone viewing this film with no prior knowledge of the workings of Brazilian society, one is left with the understanding that blacks have no real place in society; they are either violent and cause their own downfall, or they are pawns for elite leaders to use and pick off when it is convenient for them. This type of representation, where the Other is represented negatively or not at all, does little to inspire viewers toward any action in effort to help these people. Though it appears that directors make these films to expose the plights of those who live in this society overwhelmed by social injustice, in doing so they simply reaffirm preexisting beliefs about those who are involved in violence and criminal activity (as though it is their own faults they are unable to escape such circumstances) and those who run the country as self-interested leaders with no regard for the people they serve.

Within Brazilian society, these representations have broader consequence on democracy and the functioning of government institutions. Caldeira mentions that the complexity of urban violence hinders “democratization and presents several challenges for its consolidation beyond the political system.” This sentiment is also noted in Carvalho’s “The Edenic Motif in the Brazilian Social Imaginary,” as survey evidence suggests that much of the basis of the satanic motif in present day Brazil is the way that citizens in Rio view their fellow citizens as untrustworthy, and political representatives even more so. Given Elite Squad II’s unparalleled reach to viewers across Brazil, it makes sense that its blatant insistence of the corruption amongst institutional figures within law enforcement and the political system may contribute to the relevance of the satanic motif and the persistence of the edenic motif. Preexisting stereotypes associated with police and politicians in Brazilian society are reinforced in Elite Squad II, which

could heighten the people’s mistrust in their leaders and contribute to the hindrance of the democratic system. Padilha’s Elite Squad II exemplifies many issues that stem from the representation of urban violence on film and television. Any portrayal of a group of people on screen is an artificial construction, whether or not it is based in reality. Such constructions perpetuate stereotypes about the represented groups, as generalizations are made to piece together a cohesive and entertaining narrative. This film, which focuses on systemic violence rather than the

subjective violence committed by poor black men in the slums, still manages to perpetuate the same stereotypes about these men as do films that focus on their crimes. This is because their limited screen time serves to eliminate their voices from the narrative altogether. Elite Squad II also promotes stereotypes about the elite, white, upper class, by emphasizing the corruption that they infiltrate in every corner of Brazilâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s systemic institutions. These generalized representations of both sectors of Brazilian society have consequences in the real world,

instigating the talk of crime and perpetuating stereotypes to millions of people domestically and internationally. Domestically, the consequences of these representations may have real effects on the very systems the films represent and expose, as they reinforce negative beliefs that people in Brazil already hold about their fellow citizens and leaders. If films like Elite Squad II perpetuate the satanic motif in Brazilian society, they may have profound effects on the state of Brazilâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s democracy and the effectiveness of its institutions in the future.

IS THIS LOVE?

McKay and Marley’s use of Nature and Sex to Explore Black Love By Jasmine Willis

In Thomas Jefferson’s Notes on Virginia, he declared Black people inferior because he believed they were incapable of loving the same as whites. His ideology refueled the already present negative imagery of the Black body. It was regarded as animalistic and inhuman. As a result, Black people were treated like beasts incapable of love. Their bodies were sold, beaten, raped, and owned. They had no ownership or claim upon themselves, people, or culture. This is why Black love is imperative. Black love depicts the love of black bodies and all its unfiltered, raw truth. It is not simply the love of another person, but rather love for the self and culture. After hundreds of years of degradation on black body, black love reclaims the black bodies. The rebellious nature rebukes the white ideologies of love and sex. It allows Black people to control their own image of the black body without the slave mentality or white standards of beauty and

life. The works of Jamaican artists Claude McKay and Bob Marley exhibit Black love to reclaim the body and humanize Black people. Their works expose Black love in the passion of sexuality and rawness of nature. Adapting a “natural mystic” air around Black love is essentially placing it on a higher level, out of the mental bondage of slavery. Slavery was institutionalized for the monetary wealth and benefit of European world powers. The black body was currency equivalent to the gold and silver coins branded with European Kings and Queens. Despite a sickening obsession with wealth, these conquerors sanctified their thievery and brutality. With one hand they claimed the black body and with the other hand they branded it as savage. Savage, the definition of animalistic and bestiality. To them the black body was not filled with human thought, intellectualism, and love, but rather the lowest kind of animal devoid of love

and emotion. It is this ideology that has controlled the black body and institutionalized oppression. On May 3rd, 1494 the voyager Christopher Columbus discovered the already inhabited island of Jamaica. The unsurpassed beauty of Jamaica hypnotized Columbus; He ultimately said, “[Jamaica] exceed[s] all others in beauty, as the sun surpasses the moon in brightness and splendor.” As a result of Jamaica’s beauty and locality, Europeans flocked to the island. Ultimately, in the late seventeenth century, it was colonized by Great Britain. Although still beautiful to the eye, Jamaica transformed into a gorgeous prison for the thousands of African peoples captured and enslaved. Without control of their own bodies, the enslaved were subjected to the power of their owners. Enslaved Africans were mainly used for the grueling process of producing sugar, which was Jamaica’s main crop. The production of sugar was so intensive and toxic that the

life expectancy of those producing it was five years. The strong Black bodies of men were weakened and destroyed by the forced cultivation of the addictive granulated sugar from the sugar cane. Enslaved women’s bodies were controlled in labor, but also forced concubine relationships. Enslaved women had no control of their bodies or their organs. They were forced in a sexual bondage and structured by white men’s desire. Not only were enslaved women victims in rape and sexual assault, but they were also treated like breeders, raped and forced to produce profit. Enslaved women’s children were insurance of the slave master and ensured the future productivity and profit of the plantation. In order to sanctify the dehumanizing brutality of slavery, scholars classified Black people as animals or non-human. David Hume stated, “[Native Africans] are inferior to the rest of the species, and utterly incapable of the higher attainments of the mind.”

“JAZZ, ‘BECOMES A SYMBOL FOR THE RECLAMATION OF SELF-DETERMINATION AND COMMUNITY FOR BLACKS WITHOUT REFERENCE TO WHITES.’” Black people were a subspecies and did not qualify for the inalienable rights granted to all human beings. In 1774 Edward Long published his three-volume work entitled, The History of Jamaica. In his work, Long included his thoughts on Polygenism. Polygenism is the theory that human races emerged from different origins. In Long’s thoughts, he believed the black race had emerged from an animal species like the orangutan. This genetic difference signified the distinct differences in the races according to Long. These thoughts were encrypted in the minds of other scholars as well. The third president of the United States of America was the author of the immortalized words, “all men are created equal… with certain unalienable Rights.” In Jefferson’s Notes of Virginia, he claimed Black people were unintelligent without any creative entities or beauty. He declared Black people as undesirable in every respect. Works and ideas such as these transformed blackness as an ugly animalistic

misfortune. Despite claims of inferiority, the Enslaved peoples of Jamaica never completely succumbed to European thought of physical bondage. They constantly rebelled against their masters and ran away to the green hills of Jamaica. Maroon communities of runaway slaves formed and created their own free space to create, love, and rule. This same rebellious spirit is the essence of Jamaican natives Claude McKay and Robert Marley. They used rebellious spirit much like their Jamaican ancestors for the liberation of their minds and the minds of Black people. Even the foundations of their lyrics and prose adapted a rebellious spirit. In Home to Harlem, Claude McKay used Jazz music as the life source of Harlem. Jazz was already rebellious in nature. Many viewed jazz as the devil improperly affecting their youth. Some members of the black community blatantly bashed McKay for his use of Jazz. Despite the rejections, Jazz was

everywhere in his novels, capturing their mood and provoking dance. McKay wrote, “…he was lost in some sensual dream of his own. No tortures, banal shrieks and agonies. Tum-tum . . . tum-tum . . . tum-tum… The notes were naked acute alert. Like black youth burning naked in the bush. Love in the deep heart of the jungle.” In this passage, the music coupled with the sensual dance is captivating strong emotions within the character Ray. The music sends Ray into a dreamscape, but the images are present and real—“notes were…alert.” There is also truth in the music. There is a bare irrefutable truth, which can leave the listener exposed, raw, and excavating pent up lust —“burning naked in the bush.” This Jazz song entices Ray to rebel against himself. Instead of being reserved, the music calls Ray to release his inhibitions and do that which lies “in the deep heart of the jungle.” McKay believed in capturing the grittiness and the primitive nature of Jazz in order to express the truth of Black people. As Paul de Barros writes, McKay’s embracement of Jazz, “becomes a symbol for the reclamation of self-determination and community for blacks- without reference to whites.” The already rebellious foundations of Jazz exemplify McKay’s nature to expose and reject majority ideologies. Reggae, like Jazz, was created in spirit of rebellion. In “Reggae

Aesthetic,” Kwame Dawes states, “[reggae is] grounded in the history of the working-class black Jamiaca.” Reggae developed more than 40 years after Jazz and is for the working class, depicting their struggles. Bob Marley is not only a voice for the poor people, but he provokes rebellion within the people. In his song “Get up, Stand up,” he literally tells the people to “get up.” He makes it clear that you must fight for your rights and that these rights will not come freely. He tells the listeners, “…if you know what life is worth/ You would look for yours on earth.” The presence of the word “look” emphasizes that the people must seek out their rights. Many of Marley’s songs incite these rebellious spirits. It is even present in the sculpture of the rhythm. Its circular and non-linear structure rejects the standard pop song procedure. Marley’s music is based in the freedom to do what you feel is right. Therefore, Reggae must not constrict itself to any popularized pattern. The instruments speak to one another and create a rhythmic beat. Much like Jazz, the rebellious foundation of Reggae gives Marley the power to create music, which “liberates the mind of men and ultimately [liberating] the bodies.” It structures a foundation for Marley and McKay to comment and liberate Black Love. They are able to take these Reggae rhythms and connotations of Jazz into their other works.

grow. This could potentially allude to the woman being entrapped by McKay and Marley exploit the thoughts of those around her. In nature as a vehicle to talk about the poem, McKay’s “cold nude trees Black love. In this respect, Black love evolves into Black pride as well. are tossing to and fro” eclipsing the small Jasmine flower. These trees Their use of nature evokes pride drown out the “low voice.” Howevin the pureness of the Black body. er, despite the brutal environment, It is pure in the sense of a work of Jasmine’s scent is still present and beautiful art created by God. They insist the audience be comfortable in she still continues to expand, “cluster round your cottage door!” McKay is their black bodies and to love them expressing the love for the woman’s in their natural, undisturbed states. beauty and her durability. Although This type of Black love is not only the “nude trees” or white society pride for Black peoples, but also a has not provided the woman with a love for oneself. place in society, Jasmine continues Claude McKay uses the nature to endure and reclaim her space. motif in both his poetry and prose. McKay’s ideas of reclamation One of McKay’s poems entitled in “Jasmine” are also found in his “Jasmine” illuminates his use of nature to describe Black love. In this novel, Banana Bottom. His novel, fifteen-line sonnet, McKay pines for Banana Bottom, uses the nature motif as a method to free the characthe love of a woman whose nameter Bita Plant. As exemplified in her sake is likened to the Jasmine flowname, Bita is like a plant. She must er. This poem is written from the perspective of a man pinning for the settle into her roots in order to grow. Her roots nourish her and provide love of Jasmine. McKay begins by her with stability. Bita has to strip evoking the overwhelming scent of herself of any artificial relevance and Jasmine which fills his nostrils—“it focus on her roots—the utter natuoverwhelms and conquers me!” ralness of her self. From the beginThe scent alone excites McKay. The ning of the novel, Bita is marked by scent of her is so strong that McKay her first sexual experience. Although says, “Heavy with the dew before the community deemed it as rape, the dawn of the day.” The scent is enough to drive him to tears produc- McKay did not frame it as such. ing “dew” around his opened “dawn- Rather, he illustrated a scene of fascination and adoration bursting ing” eyes. Like the flower, the womout in a display of sexual passion. At an is exotic and only able to grow first Bita is listening to Crazy Bow in certain areas. “Night Jasmine cannot bloom in this cold place.” The play on his fiddle “in the attitude of a bewitched being.” She is enamored woman is in a place that she cannot

NATURAL MYSTIC

“NATURAL MYSTICISM IS MYSTICIM THAT GROUNDS PEOPLE IN SPIRITUALITY DESPITE THE STRUGGLES AND PERILS OF DAILY LIFE.” with Crazy Bow, so she eventually “hung and clung to him passionately.” Not able to fight temptation, Crazy Bow “lost control of himself and the deed was done.” However, Bita’s sexual awakening was plagued by shame. Upon seeing the “blood upon her shift,” her sexual encounter was discovered and rather quickly deemed as a rape. This natural feeling and expression of love was tainted and twisted into something shameful. It provoked the idea that Bita’s lust and desires are shameful acts and unnatural. Bita’s rape results in her being taken to be “[educated] in English civility.” Her soon departure clearly identifies there is a taboo about the nature of sex. To state Bita needed to be educated in “English civility” is to also state that her natural desires are savagery. In “The Folk as Alternative Modernity,” David Nicholls states sexual intercourse is “a moral blemish for which Bita must recover.” This thought is also present in the town taunt, which continually haunts Bita — “Crazy Bow was the first.” It is a constant reminder of her sexual

indiscretion. However, after returning to Jamaica educated, Bita strips herself of European ideologies. She reverts back to doing what feels natural and right to her. The reader first sees Bita blossom into her own at the first tea-meeting. McKay writes, “… Bita danced freely released, danced as she had never danced since she was a girl at a picnic Tabletop, wiggling and swaying and sliding along, the memories of her tomboyish girlhood rushing sparkling over her like water cascading over one bathing upon a hot summer’s day.” Bita was dancing without restraint, “danced freely released” and unlike more traditional dances she did not care about anyone else. This moment of first release is so euphoric to Bita that McKay compares it to sweet water cooling off her sun-scorched body. Interestingly, McKay also links the scene to her childhood where she first engaged in sex. He says, “…she had never danced since she was a girl.” This phrase links naturalness of dancing to the naturalness of desire.

Bita had not danced as freely since she was a little girl because she had been taught to restrain her natural desires. Even her overseas education of civility had taught her that this natural feeling was wrong. However, McKay uses this scene as the first in multiple scenes where Bita Plant begins to discover her natural self and take root. McKay composes Bita to rediscover her body slowly. In the scene where Bita floats in the water hole, McKay uses the growing nature around Bita to depict a harmonious moment of Bita and her bare body. She “swam round and round the hole.” Bita swam in a continuous pattern to familiarize herself with her body. As she became comfortable with her body, she turned away from the blue hole and “bear[ed] the sun above burning down.” Bita was now comfortable with her body and its naturalness. However, Bita does question the beauty of her body again. After being called only a “nigger,” Bita strips to view her body to question its beauty. McKay writes, “She caressed her breast like maturing pomegranates, her skin firm and smooth like the sheath of a blossoming banana, her luxuriant hair, close-curling like thick fibrous roots, gazed at her own warmbrown eyes, the infallible indicators of real human beauty.” McKay

constructs the imagery of fruit to describe the natural beauty of Bita’s body. The pomegranates and bananas are exotic fruits and cannot be grown everywhere. Similarly, Bita’s body is special and beautiful in its own right. Not everyone can be graced with the beauty of her blackness. The complexities and differences of the body, from the kinky curl of her hair to her firm and smooth skin, are characteristics of “real human beauty.” After evaluating her body this last time, Bita has reached the reclamation of her body. She states, “…she was proud of being a Negro girl…no banal ridicule of a ridiculous world could destroy her confidence and pride in herself…she was a worthy human being. She knew that she was beautiful.” Bita does not need any valorization of her beauty of herself. She is confidently firm in her natural state. McKay firmly plants Bita in a mental place, which will nourish her and provide stability. Nicholls refers to this as Bita “reclaim[ing] her body as an organic being.” She knows her humanity and no one, no matter what they say, will steal her worth from her. Much like McKay, Bob Marley sings of nature to evoke meaning of Black love. In Kwame Dawes’ work, Bob Marley: Lyrical Genius, he identifies the appeal to nature

as a way in which Marley expresses love. Nature is a way to feel closer to Jah Rastafari since everything in nature is of his doing. His appeal to nature is an eternal praise to Jah. It is here the enlightened belief of the natural mystic is structured. According to Dawes, natural mysticism is mysticism that grounds people in spirituality despite the struggles and perils of daily life. It requires a strong spiritual connection. In his song, “Natural Mystic,” the song begins with a slow fade increasing the volume slightly with every guitar strum. Marley’s smooth voice softly flows through the rhythm singing, “There’s a natural mystic blowing through the air.” It is something that you can feel, but not see. This is reminiscent of love because it is mainly an emotional feeling rather than a visual experience. This “Natural Mystic” sound is present in various other Marley songs like “Mellow Mood.” His first line is filled with promise: “I’ll play your fav’rite song, darling.’” He is expressing his love by a show of affection, but the mystical air of love soon replaces this. “’Cause I’ve got love, darlin’/Love, sweet love, darlin’/Mellow mood has got me.” Here Marley evokes that his love for her has given him peace placing him in a state of mellowness. The repetition of the phrase “love, sweet

love, darlin’” emphasizes that it is the naturalness of love which has him on a high and in an enlightened state of peace. In these songs, love is a true natural air or spirit present all around people. Marley uses nature to represent the bareness and earthiness he finds beautiful about love. The existence of love in Marley’s music is understandable considering his many affairs in love. In 1966, Bob Marley married his one-year sweetheart, Rita. Throughout their marriage, Bob Marley committed infidelities. Although he is often depicted as shy in person, he was a Casanova—an adventurer of love. His experiences in love were depicted in his numerous love songs. The song, “Turn Your Lights Down Low,” uses the moon to sanctified the union of this couple. Marley sings, “let Jah moon come shining in.” The moon represents the naturalness of their union and its sanctity. As Dawes states, “this love between them is sanctified by faith.” This moon imagery is carried throughout the entire song. Marley repeats this is a love that the woman should “never try to resist oh no.” Their love is like the moon. It is always present and is most visible during the night. It is also inescapable because even when it is not visible, it is there. In “No Woman, No Cry,” Marley tells

the love story of a couple in poverty. Marley pleads with the woman to not cry—“no woman, no cry.” Then he takes the listeners on a journey of their love and struggle. In order to emphasize their poverty, he draws images of their surroundings. He sings, “Georgie would make the fire lights/ I she, log would burnin’ through the nights.” The image of a natural fire of simple log calls on the need for the couple to create heat. Like this log fire, they would have to use their love alone to make it through these times of poverty. It is the love of one another that carries them through. Marley says, “Then we would cook cornmeal porridge/ of which I’ll share with you.” Their starvation is met with some food, but mostly filled with the presence of one another. This love is what provides the couple with the “strength to push on through.” Black love commences in natural elements. The love ballad, “Could You Be Loved,” rhythms being with an interesting scratching sound which is present throughout the entire song. This sounds immediately like something outside rubbing up against an object. It pulls the listener outside to the natural elements. The other instruments then fold in instantaneously. Marley begins to question the woman, “Could you be

loved?.” Marley’s repetition of this line alludes to the idea that this is the woman’s question. She is asking Marley whether anyone could love her. She is questioning her ability to be loved. Marley replies, “Don’t let them fool ya/Or even try to school you/We got a mind of our own/So go to hell if what you’re thinking is not right.” Marley tells the woman not to let her beliefs be swayed by others. Here the word “them” is used to refer to oppressive structures and, more specifically, anyone other than her. He goes on to say, “Love will never leave us alone/ In the darkness there must come out to light.” In this context love has two meanings—love as in lover and love as in Jah. The almighty Jah will always be there; He has no end. Also, the lover will be there for her. Even when she may physically be alone “in the darkness,” love, or “light,” will be ever present. He draws on natural elements again later stating, “The road of life is rocky/ And you may stumble too.” Again, this imagery says that there will be challenges in the relationship. Hurdles may seem like rocks—big, ugly, and impossible to crack. It may even cause her to lose her footing, but she will endure on—“We’ve got a life to live.” Marley’s “Could You Be Loved” reaffirms the value of Black Love. Even though Marley is

phrasing it as a question, he already knows the answer. Yes. Yes, Black people can be loved, they deserve love and should never allow the opinion of others to affect their view of themselves.

STIRRING IT UP

McKay and Marley also illuminate sex and desire in their works to highlight Black love. Sex is more than the physical expression of two people. It is the making of love that captivates these two Jamaican poets. As they create these works, the two artists mimic the act of making love. They steadily build into an exploding orgasmic revolutionary thought. They take their listeners and readers on a tantalizing journey of sexual desire. By being incredibly open about sex/desire, they make it okay for the desire to encompass Black Life. This is truly the reclaiming of the body—to truly own the right to choose your sexual partner. They liberate their listeners by teaching them that desire does not mean hypersexual, but rather the “very symbol of personal freedom itself.” Claude McKay was born in Nairne Castle in the year of 1889. As a child, he fell in love with a little girl named Agnes. In his work My Green Hills of Jamaica, he described his first love Agnes. She was a “light mulatto with very black hair, buxom

of body and with a face that radiated sunshine.” Even after her untimely death, his desire for her was ever present. McKay wrote the poem “Agnes O’ De Village Lane” in her honor. McKay draws the reader to his younger years writing, “Fancy o’ me childish will.” It is important for the reader to understand McKay’s age. Even children can experience the desire and yearnings of love. He says, “How much once your love I prize.” Even after her death, these feeling are easily rekindled. He would write of his excitement seeing her in the schoolroom. Agnes and McKay would write long letters to each other. When his brother discovered the letters, he “beat poor [McKay]” because he thought the letters were inappropriate for two children. However, Agnes and McKay “closer we twain.” Unlike Bita Plant, his punishment never stopped him for expressing his desire for his first love Agnes. McKay’s obsession with peasant life shaped his writings on love and sex. He was bewitched by the strength of women, especially the prostitutes. When writing of their lives, he made a “sincere attempt to represent the lives of Black Jamaican women as he observed them.” In his the poems “A Country Girl” and “A Midnight Woman to the Bobby” he expressed the sex of working class

women. The woman in “A Midnight Woman to the Bobby” started in an aggressive manner. She exclaims, “No palm me up, you dutty brute.” From the start, the reader knows the Midnight Woman is in control of her own body. McKay writes, “You fas’n now, but wait lee ya/ I’ll see you grunt under the law.” These lines evoke sexual prowess. She is continually telling him that she is in control. She even says, “You t’ink you wise, but we wi’ see,” again implying that she is in total control of the situation. Her sex is her own to control. Dawes states, “[Marley] relished the idea of sex” and “found the joy” in storytelling. This could be as a result of his many sexual conquests or the power in Black love and sex. In many of Bob Marley’s songs, he is pent up with so much desire that his singing can transform to begging. “Waiting in Vain” takes on this begging nature. Marley says, “I don’t wanna wait in vain for you love.” He wants a promise that he will receive the love he desires. As she continues to keep Marley at bay, his frustration continually builds with only one

cure. “Your love is my release/Tears in my eyes burn/Tears in my eyes burn/While I’m waiting/While I’m waiting for my turn.” His desire for her is so great that he is tearing up. He is figuratively crying outside her door. “Stir it Up” also has this pinning tone. Marley keeps egging on the woman, constantly pleading with her to “come on and stir it up.” The song evokes these physical images of stirring food. The spoon is the woman as she moves around the pot in an inviting way to entice the flavors. Marley encourages, “I’ll push the wood, I’ll blaze your fire.” He states he will be the reason for her desire and he will surely “satisfy your heart’s desire.” This song desire and sex show through taste and smell as cooking transforms sex. “Guava Jelly” is a little more explicit than the other two songs. Marley softly whines, “You said you love me/I said I love me.” This is the precedent for the rest of the song. In the chorus, Marley states “Come and rub ‘pon me belly/ like a guava jelly.” Sexual tension is created in Marley’s performance of the song coupled with the reggae rhythm. Marley voice is low bringing the

“NATURAL MYSTICISM IS MYSTICIM THAT GROUNDS PEOPLE IN SPIRITUALITY DESPITE THE STRUGGLES AND PERILS OF DAILY LIFE.” audience into a private and intimate affair. It is a comforting feeling. One of Bob Marley’s most provocative songs is “Kinky Reggae.” Even in the name it foreshadows to the sexual nature of the song. He begins, “I went downtown/I saw Miss Brown/ She had brown sugar/All over her booga-wooga.” Marley is again engaging the audience with their senses of sight and taste. The girl’s “brown sugar” implies that her sex is deliciously sweet. It was such an orgasmic experience and “kinky” that it enticed sounds “let me hear ya say.” This is emphasized by the call and response in the song. Once Marley says a line, the I-Threes female group repeats the line. It allows the audience a glimpse into this kinky reggae event. The sex and desire of Bob Marley exhibit the freedom to express these types of Black love without fear of being reprimanded. His music gives Black people freedom in their sexual desire. In one of his speeches, Jamaican native and leader of the UNIA Marcus Garvey said, “A people without the knowledge of their past, origin, and culture is like a tree without

roots.” The works of Jamaican author Claude McKay and Reggae artist Bob Marley prove this ideology. By producing images of Black people engaged in forms of Black Love, they provided Black people with a solemn unity. Both McKay and Marley use Black love as a vehicle to explore nationality, God, intellectualism, desire, and temptation. Love is exhibited in their novels, lyrics, and poems. The depiction of Black love humanizes the black body. It transforms the blistering sores of lies and conniving phrases into beautiful scars eclipsing all forms of hate. Their work is not only important in content, but in the education of the Black community and the greater world. Through their words and physical representations, they teach the Black community of their misinformation and correct it. Through the rhythmic setting of genre, natural imagery, and direct expressions of love and sex, Marley and McKay delve into the complexities of Black Love and reclaim the black body.

WORKS CITED “The Imagined Community” 1 Anderson, Benedict R. O’G. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso, 1991, 20. 2 Ibid, 24-25. 3 Gruzd, A., B. Wellman, and Y. Takhteyev. “Imagining Twitter as an Imagined Community.” American Behavioral Scientist 55.10, 2011, 1301. 4 Johnson, Ginger A., Hasan Nuseibeh, and Brant Tudor. “140 Characters or Less: How Is the Twitter Mediascape Influencing the Egyptian Revolution?” Middle East Journal of Culture and Communication 6.1, 2013, 134. 5 Gruzd, 1301. 6 Ibid, 1302-1303. 7 Ibid, 1303. 8 Ibid, 1303. 9 Ibid, 37. 10 Ibid, 37. 11 Gruzd, 1303. 12 Anderson, 31. 13 “Twitter Usage Statistics.” Internet Live Stats. Accessed February 16, 2016. 14 Carr, David. “Why Twitter Will Endure.” New York Times. January 1, 2010. 15 Manjoo, Farhad. “For Twitter, Future

Means Here and Now.” The New York Times, June 11, 2015. 16 Gruzd, 1303. 17 Anderson, 25-26. 18 Gruzd, 1303. 19 Ibid, 1303. 20 “Twitter: Most-followed Accounts Worldwide 2016 | Statistic.” Statista, February 16, 2016. 21 “Twitter Top 100 Most Followed - Twitter Counter.” Twittercounter, February 16, 2016. 22 Johnson, 141. 23 Ibid, 148. 24 Barthel et. al. “The Evolving Role of News on Twitter and Facebook.” Pew Research Centers Journalism Project RSS. July 14, 2015. 25 Gruzd, 1305. 26 Ibid, 1313. Images: Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. New York: Verso, 1983. DeGeneres, Ellen. Twitter Post. March 02, 2014, 7:06 PM. https://twitter.com/theellenshow/status/440322224407314432.

“Frank Ocean, Folk Hero for a New Generation” 1 Miller, Karl Hagstrom. Segregating Sound: Inventing Folk and Pop Music in the Age of Jim Crow. Durham: Duke UP, 2010, 2. 2 Ibid, 1. 3 Ibid, 1. 4 Hamilton, Jack. “Pieces of a Man: The Meaning of Gil Scott-Heron,” Transition 106. Fall 2011, 120. 5 Chang, Jeff. “Becoming the Hip-Hop Generation: The Source, the industry and the Big Crossover.” Can’t Stop Won’t Stop: A History of the Hip-Hop Generation. New York: Picador, 2005, 421. 6 Nicholson, Rebecca. “Frank Ocean: the most talked-about man in music.” Guardian, July 20, 2010. 7 Caramanica, Jon. “Creating His Own Gravity.” New York Times, July 4, 2012. 8 Pappademas, Alex. “Rozay is Rozay is Rozay.” Grantland, August 2, 2012, 2. 9 Ocean, Frank. Channel Orange, Def Jam, 2012, MP3. 10 Ibid 11 Ibid 12 Ibid 13 Ibid 14 Brackett, 86. 15 Ocean, Channel Orange. 16 Nicholson. 17 Brown, Karamo. “Who’s Really Homophobic in the Hip-Hop World,” Advocate. September 14, 2015. 18 Nicholson. 19 Ocean, Frank. Nostalgia, Ultra, Self-released, 2011, MP3. 20 Ocean, Channel Orange. 21 Ibid. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid. 24 Ibid. 25 Ibid. 26 Ibid. 27 Ibid. 28 Nicholson.

Image: The Only, “Ep. 30: Frank Ocean, Justice & The Avalanches,” The Only Music Podcast, last modified June 18, 2016. http://theonlymusicpodcast.com/ep-30-frank-ocean-justice-the-avalanches/. “Stereotypes in Elite Squad II: The Enemy Within and Their Effects in Broader Society” 1 Wilkinson, Sue, and Celia Kitzinger. “Theorizing Representing the Other.” In Representing the Other: A Feminism & Psychology Reader, 1-32. London: Sage Publications, 1996. 2 Said, Edward W. “Orientalism.” The Critical Tradition: Classic Texts and Contemporary Trends, edited by David H. Richter, 1807-19. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989. 3 Caldeira, Teresa P. R., “Talking of Crime and Ordering the World.” In City of Walls: Crime, Segregation, and Citizenship in São Paulo, 19-52. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000. 4 Ibid, 40. 5 Ibid, 40. 6 Carvalho, José Murilo De. “The Edenic Motif in the Brazilian Social Imaginary.” Revista Brasileira De Ciências Sociais Spe1 (2000): 111-28. Images: GoodTherapy.org. “Report Uncovers Abuse of Inmates with Mental Health Issues.” Last modified May 19, 2015. http://www. goodtherapy.org/blog/report-uncoversabuse-of-inmates-with-mental-health-issues-0519151. “Is This Love? McKay and Marley’s Use of Nature and Sex to Explore Black Love” 1 Thomas Jefferson, Note of the State of Virginia. (Chapter 15, 1784). 2 Kwame Dawes, Bob Marley: Lyrical Genius. (London: 2002) 3226. Will be referred to as BMLG. 3 Benjamin Luckock and George Peck, Ja-

maica: Enslaved and Free. (New York: 1846) 7-8. Will be referred to as JEF. 4 JEF, 141. 5 Ibid, 123. 6 Suman Seth, “Materialism, Slavery, and The History of Jamaia” (Isis: 2014) 764-66. 7 Thomas Jefferson, The Declaration of Independence. 8 Thomas Jefferson, Note of the State of Virginia. (Chapter 15, 1784). 9 Jamaican Information Service, “The History of Jamaica.” 10 Paul De Barros, “The Loud Music of Life: Representations of Jazz in the novels of Claude McKay” (The Antioch Review: 1999) 307-310. Will be referred to as TLML. 11 Claude McKay, Home to Harlem. (New Jersey: 1928) 196. 12 TLML, 216. 13 Kwame Dawes, “Reggae Aesthetic.” In Natural Mysticism. (England: 1999) 103. 14 Bob Marley, “Get Up, Stand Up,” 1973 Burnin.’ (Bob Marley Discography will be referred to as BMD). 15 Kwame, 111. 16 Marcus Garvey, Selected Speeches and Writings. (New York: 2004). 17 Walt Hunter, “Claude McKay’s Constabulary Aesthetics.” (Modern Philosophy: 2014). 18 Claude McKay, “Jasmine,” Selected Poems. (New York 1999) 49. 19 Claude McKay, Banana Bottom. (New Jersey: 1933) 10. Will be reffered to as BB. 20 BB, 10. 21 David G. Nicholls, “The Folk as Alternative Modernity.” (Journal of Modern Literature: 1999) 84. 22 Nicholls, 84. 23 BB, 30. 24 Ibid, 84. 25 Ibid, 117. 26 Ibid, 266. 27 Ibid, 266.

Nicholls, 91. BMLG. 30 Ibid, 3226. 31 Bob Marley, “Natural Mystic,” 1977 Exodus (BMD). 32 Bob Marley, “Mellow Mood.” (BMD). 33 Marley Documentary 2012. 34 Bob Marley, “Turn Your Lights Down Low,” 1977 Exodus (BMD). 35 BMLG, 3609. 36 Bob Marley, “No Woman, No Cry,” 1974 Natty Dread (BMD). 37 Bob Marley, “Could You Be Loved,” 1980 Uprising (BMD). 38 TLML, 313. 39 Claude McKay, My Green Hills of Jamaica. Read in Winston James “Becoming the People’s Poet.” (Small Axe: 2003) 17-18. 40 James, 31. 41 Ibid, 39. 42 Ibid, 30-32. 43 BMLG, 916. 44 Marley, “Waiting in Vain,” 1977 Exodus (BMD). 45 Marley, “Stir It Up,” 1973 Catch a Fire (BMD). 46 Marley, “Guava Jelly,” 1971 Songs of Freedom (BMD). 47 Marley, “Kinky Reggae,” 1973 Catch a Fire (BMD). 48 Marcus Garvey, Selected Speeches and Writings. (New York: 2004). 28 29

Images: New York Times. “New Novel of Harlem Renaissance Is Found.” Last modified September 14, 2012. http://www.nytimes. com/2012/09/15/books/harlem-renaissance-novel-by-claude-mckay-is-discovered.html Rolling Stone: “Bob Marley: The Stories Behind 17 Rare and Unseen Images.” Last modified March 25, 2014.

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