Reviewed by: Slave Sites on Display: Reflecting Slavery’s Legacy through Contemporary “Flash” Moments by Helena Woodard Court Carney Slave Sites on Display: Reflecting Slavery’s Legacy through Contemporary “Flash” Moments. By Helena Woodard. African Diaspora Material Culture. (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2019. Pp. vi, 182. Paper, $30.00, ISBN 978-1-4968-2417-2; cloth, $99.00, ISBN 978-1-4968-2416-5.) In 2019, set to coincide with the four-hundredth anniversary of the arrival of Africans to Virginia, the New York Times ran a series of essays (some written by academics, others by journalists) that contemplated in various ways the continued significance of that historic moment. The resultant controversy of the “1619 Project,” driven by a group of professional historians who disagreed in ways large and small with the scope and tenor of the essays, underscored the unfixed nature of the past and the persistent struggle to make cohesive sense out of a national history defined as much by its divisions and omissions as any unified vision of oneness. This media flashpoint served as a present-day reminder to the volatility of how the American past is continually framed and reframed (often hinged on conceptions of race and racism). These same issues of memory, memorialization, cultural forgetting, and the building of an incomplete history help frame Helena Woodard’s new book, Slave Sites on Display: Reflecting Slavery’s Legacy through Contemporary “Flash” Moments. Sitting at the center of this book is an important, if often undernuanced, set of questions: How do we balance understanding the past with presentism and the need for historical context? How has the past revealed itself through the prism of the present without being unwittingly corrupted by the present? How do museums and memorials allow for the past to be in the present without being of the present? But conversely: how do we capture the essence of the past at all without succumbing to the pressures of presentism? Woodard parses these complex issues through the examination of five memory sites: slave castles, the African Burial Ground in New York City, presidential estates, a reconstructed slave ship, and the slave memorial at Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina. These individual stories are connected rhetorically through Woodard’s use of the “flash” moment: “specific circumstances and/or seminal events within a geopolitical framework that binds the history of Atlantic slavery to its continued resonance or impact in the present” (p. 6). Thus, Woodard is set up to discuss the past and the present through the lens of race by way of this structure. The chapter on slave castles (with an important discussion of sankofa) is a good example of what this book does best: using a particular monument to get at the underlying complexity of how the past exists in the present. Other chapters, such as the one on the reimagining of a nineteenth-century slave ship and the importance of memorial discomfort, are also worth the read. The section on presidential estates (a study of the differing ways slavery is presented on George Washington’s, Thomas Jefferson’s, and Andrew Jackson’s plantations) could [End Page 161] use more historical buttressing to develop more thoroughly her larger argument. Still, at its best, Woodard’s book offers a multifaceted examination of the power the past has on the present and the present has on the past. What makes the 1619 story, or the Olaudah Equiano story, or the story of slave castles so powerful is that they contain immediate truths, confirmed falsehoods, and enough uncertainty to bend and warp within any chosen narrative. This knot of ambiguity might play out well in the classroom, where discussion and critical thinking are key, but once these stories become embedded in public monuments or memorials, they become fixed; the vibrations of knowing and unknowing turn static as they emerge as fact. Does a quasi-historical (even antihistorical) monument provide enough meaning—however wrongheaded—to justify its place in the present moment? Can Equiano or the Door of No Return, in other words, have a rhetorical power beyond the limits of their current formulation? Are monuments real enough or teachable enough on their own terms—however flawed—or are...
Read full abstract