Her Voice Will Be on the Side of Right: Gender and Power in Women’s Antebellum Antislavery Fiction by Holly M. Kent

Abstract

Reviewed by: Her Voice Will Be on the Side of Right: Gender and Power in Women’s Antebellum Antislavery Fiction by Holly M. Kent Kara B. Clevinger HER VOICE WILL BE ON THE SIDE OF RIGHT: GENDER AND POWER IN WOMEN’S ANTEBELLUM ANTISLAVERY FICTION, by Holly M. Kent. American Abolitionism and Antislavery. Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 2017. 216 pp. $55.00 cloth; $46.99 ebook. Was the nineteenth-century woman empowered by the ideologies of true womanhood and separate spheres, or was she confined within the home? This question has defined a persistent debate for scholars of nineteenth-century American women’s literature since it was proposed by Ann Douglas and Jane Tompkins in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Douglas’s critique of the anti-intellectualism of much of women’s literature, clustered under the broad term “sentimentalism,” and Tompkins’s reclamation of that literature and the cultural work it performs, as well as the opening up of the canon of American literature, have inspired countless critical studies of women’s writing that have spanned the range of women’s empowerment. At this point, scholars of the nineteenth century agree: it is complicated. Holly M. Kent’s Her Voice Will Be on the Side of Right: Gender and Power in Women’s Antebellum Antislavery Fiction makes a significant contribution to this debate and the field of antebellum literary scholarship, as Kent explores how women writers intellectually and imaginatively considered the position of women as abolitionist activists and agitators in the United States between 1821 and 1861, arguing that white women writers conceived of gender, not race, as the most significant barrier to social justice and equality. Beginning with early antislavery fiction in the 1820s and the optimism of women writers’ belief that morally superior women could abolish slavery and de-corrupt men, Kent traces a decline in the hope for white women’s ability to effect change in a patriarchal society during each decade leading up to the Civil War. Much of the antislavery fiction Kent analyzes has received little attention from literary scholars, and thus her book is as much a recovery project as it is a compelling assessment of the productions of female antislavery fiction writers. Kent reads short and long-form fiction from well-known authors like Catharine Maria Sedgwick, Elizabeth Margaret Chandler, Lydia Maria Child, E. D. E. N. Southworth, and Harriet Beecher Stowe. She also introduces readers to a valuable sampling of lesser-known and [End Page 453] anonymous authors, such as African American writer Sarah Mapps Douglass, who contributed fiction for young readers to The Liberator, including a piece in August 1832 in which she does not reveal that the virtuous young female protagonist is African American until the end, hoping her young audience will learn a moral lesson in shame for their racist assumptions. Kent places Douglass’s short story within a fascinating comparison of African American and white women writers of antislavery fiction to demonstrate how African American authors took up debates about what society might look like after emancipation, while white authors focused on the liberation plot and held back from writing what came after emancipation. One of the more intriguing conclusions Kent comes to is that white women authors became increasingly uncomfortable with relinquishing conventional ideals of white middle-class femininity and could only imagine African American female characters embodying or desiring these traits rather than portraying new and diverse models of womanhood. The triumph of Kent’s book is the valuable contributions it makes to a number of scholarly conversations about the nineteenth century: antislavery fiction and abolitionist activism, domestic literature and separate spheres ideology, theories of public and private spheres, and the historiography of women and authorship. Kent intervenes in each of these conversations, placing her magnifying glass over fiction and examining how women imagined antislavery action rather than speculating on women’s lived experiences at the time. The result is an insightful and pure literary studies monograph, which is thoroughly researched with expert attention to secondary sources and a rich array of primary sources that made use of wonderful collections at the Boston Library, Smith College, and the Historical Societies of Massachusetts and...