Bunzmann, Queerness and the Specters of Class and Sexuality

This paper is part of my dissertation project in which I examine the representation of class in American literature between the 1920s and 40s. In particular, I focus on the writings of Ellen Glasgow, Meridel Le Sueur, Nella Larsen, and Dorothy West. The goal of my project is threefold:
- Firstly, I will suggest that class can be a meaningful category of analysis regarding almost any kind of literature, regardless of whether the relevance of class is strongly emphasized as in the genre working-class fiction or not.
- Secondly, in accordance with the mainstream treatment of class I believe that class can only be analyzed in a meaningful way if examined in its interrelationships with race, gender, and sexual orientation; however, in opposition to many „race, class, gender”- analyses I will make class the focus of my analysis.
- Thirdly, I argue for a new concept of class identity that is in tune with the anti-essentialist notions that have come to dominate the treatment of race, gender, and sexual orientation. Thus, I hope to offer an alternative to the limiting traditional, orthodox class analyses and to open up fresh new ways of looking at class in a large variety of texts.

The metaphor of borderlands, of challenging and crossing boundaries, as presented for instance in Gloria Anzaldúa's Borderlands/La Frontera , has been widely adapted among literary critics. Anzaldúa defines the Borderlands as being "physically present wherever two or more cultures edge each other, where people of different races occupy the same territory, where under, lower, middle and upper classes touch." I submit that one region of the Borderlands mentioned in her definition is neglected in comparison to cultures, race and sexuality, and that is class. As I will argue in my analysis of Nella Larsen's Quicksand (written in 1928), I believe class would benefit from being understood as a potential borderland region.

of hetero/homosexuality and of the upper versus the lower classes are interrogated. This challenge is embodied by "queer" characters who are "queer" regarding both sexuality and class. These characters' class affiliations are unstable and their sexuality is not purely heterosexual. All attempts to ban these queer elements are condemned to failure because the queer elements are always present and absent.

Regarding sexuality, the term "spectral" can suggest that homosexuality or lesbianism are threatening specters feared by the heterosexual mainstream, an idea expressed for example by Terry Castle in her book The Apparitional Lesbian . With regard to literary criticism, the specter metaphor could explain why Gloria T. Hull said about lesbian literature that “[f]or the sensitive reader, there is often a gap between what one knows and what can be 'proved'". In this context, lesbianism could be seen as a specter haunting the text as well as the critic because it is so hard to lay hands on and pin down.

Sexuality can also be said to be spectral in the sense of a spectrum of sexual orientations. This spectrum of sexuality is to some extent similar to Adrienne Rich's "lesbian continuum." However, the advantage of the term “spectral” is that it does not evoke the idea of lesbian sex and can thus be applied to a broader range of relationships. Apart from that, the term "spectral sexuality" can be applied to men as well as women, for instance, it could be applied to both female characters and to Brian Redfield in Passing.

Furthermore, the specter metaphor could be applied to certain classes perceived as threats, for instance, the nineteenth-century so-called "dangerous classes." These "dangerous classes" were thought to consist of such people as "criminals" and "savages" (read: "Negroes, Indians, Mexicans, Irish"). It was hoped that they would soon disappear in Darwinian fashion, thus giving way to a "younger, fresher civilization." In my dissertation project I hope to show that the fear of certain dangerous classes has persisted far into the twentieth century.

By connecting ”class” and ”spectrum,” I’d like to draw attention to the fact that class systems are much more multifaceted, differentiated and permeable than traditional Marxist theories assume. This thesis can be illustrated for example by describing how the protagonist of Quicksand moves back and forth on the class spectrum during the course of the novel.

Apart from spectrality, the second key term I will use is queerness. I will use ”spectrality” in an abstract sense to refer to phenomena such as lesbianism, for example, whereas ”queer” is meant to refer to concrete manifestations of this spectrality in individual people.

Loosely following the Merriam Webster, I use ”queerness” not just as referring to homosexuality but rather in five different ways, as indicated on my transparency: queerness can denote strangeness, shadiness, physical disease, mental instability, and homosexuality, or, as I would put it, spectral sexuality. In the following, I will illustrate how specters, spectra, and queerness function in Quicksand.

From the outset of Quicksand, Helga Crane, the protagonist, is an eternal outsider. She seems strange, queer to other people. For example, people in the South regard her and the bright colors she wears as “queer” because Helga deviates from the usually worn dark colors. While most others wear navy blue, black, or brown (17), Helga believes that "bright colours were fitting and that dark-complexioned people should wear yellow, green, and red" (18). Her bright colors, among others, indicate that Helga is a hopeless misfit due to the fact that she moves between different social and racial groups.

Helga appears shady due to her movements on the class spectrum. Originally, she comes from lower class origins and does not even have family, a stigma in black upper class circles. Thus, when in touch with people from the upper-classes, Helga is viewed with suspicion. For a while, she is engaged to a member of the black upper classes. This experience teaches her that "Negro society . . .[is] as complicated and rigid in its ramifications as the highest strata of white society" (8). Those at the top of the social ladder would like to ban the specter of the lower classes from their precincts. ( Transparency: A nice illustration of the self-confidence and self-understanding of the black upper classes is this famous portrait of two African Americans in raccoon coats in front of an expensive car.) As becomes clear in the above quotation about "Negro society," Larsen’s picture of American society and its class system is highly complex: she is not content to paint a black-and-white picture of the relations between blacks and whites but also exposes the internal classism within the black community.

Class is not the only specter and cause of queerness in Quicksand. The other one is spectral sexuality. Helga’s problem, and that of the narrator and reader, is that her spectral sexuality is so specter-like that it can hardly be “proved,” as Gloria T. Hull put it. Nevertheless, all hints at Helga’s spectral sexuality taken together do give a fairly consistent picture.

Queerness in the shape of physical disease functions as an indicator of spectral sexuality, itself another shape of queerness. Thus, queerness proves to be a complex, interrelated phenomenon. The relation between corporality and sexuality in Quicksand brings to mind Foucault's theories; using his terminology, it could be argued that the regulatory discourse of heterosexuality leaves its traces even when it is so subtle (yet pervasive) that it goes unnoticed. Although she does not become aware of it, Helga’s physical disease occurs consistently when confronted with heterosexuality, especially its institutionalized form, marriage. The most obvious example would be her almost fatal sickness at the end of the novel, when she is completely exhausted from bearing too many children.

Yet, we find many subtle hints before this catastrophe. For example, when her aunt wants to pressure her into marrying. Helga's body reacts in the following way: "Her whole body was tense with suppressed indignation. Burning inside like the confined fire of a hot furnace. . . And suddenly she was oddly cold. An intimidation of things distant, but none the less disturbing, oppressed her with a faintly sick feeling. Like a heavy weight, a stone weight, just where, she knew, was her stomach" (80). As this quotation shows, Helga’s body recognizes most sensitively the negative consequences of the repression of her spectral sexual identity. Consciously, Helga will never arrive at an awareness of her spectral sexuality; however, similarly to her body, her psyche also suffers from this repression.

This emotional and mental instability Helga suffers from is a further indicator of her repressed spectral sexuality. Heterosexual relationships are extremely problematic for her. Thus, she breaks off her engagement. She does engage in at least one heterosexual relationship afterwards. However, Helga does not feel comfortable in any of these relationships. After learning that all men she encounters are not really interested in her anyway and don’t take her seriously, she feels completely broken mentally as well as physically. Her condition worsens so much that Helga finally borders on hysteria, a state that leads to her religious conversion and disastrous marriage. In the end, Helga will be so broken mentally that she cannot even muster up enough energy to escape from her marital trap.

In my view, Helga’s physical as well as mental uneasiness taken together form a strong hint at her spectral sexuality. If, as I argue, Helga’s sexuality is spectral, what makes it so hard, in fact impossible, for her to realize it? One reason that I will illustrate below is related to class. However, there is also one other reason worth mention in passing, and that is race.

To the African American community (and, in fact, other racial minorities as well), the specter of homosexuality or lesbianism has always been even more threatening than to the white community. In a sense, class and race go hand in hand here: African Americans have always felt that they need to meet social expectations (such as the rejection of homosexuality) particularly strictly in order to reach or maintain social acceptance. A textbook example of homophobia at Larsen’s time is W.E.B. Du Bois’s critique of Claude McKay’s Home to Harlem , in which McKay describes gay and lesbian night bars. Du Bois writes that “McKay has set out to cater for that prurient demand on the part of white folks for a portrayal in Negroes of . . . utter licentiousness . . . He has used every art and emphasis to paint drunkenness, fighting, lascivious sexual promiscuity and utter absence of restraint in as bold and bright colors as he can". Shifting to the present, it has to be mentioned that this particularly strong abhorrence of spectral sexuality among African Americans is not history, as the debate about lesbianism in Alice Walker's The Color Purple has shown.

Having described how class and sexuality can function both as specter and spectra, the final part of my paper will examine in what ways spectral sexuality, sexuality in general, and class are interconnected. Drawing on Quicksand, I'll suggest that the middle and upper classes tend to regard sensuality and spectral sexuality as threatening specters “materialized,” so to speak, through the lower classes. Theoretically, I draw on Pierre Bourdieu here who suggests in Distinctions that the lower classes are associated with corporality to a greater extent than the middle or upper classes. Thus, while the lower classes have less to lose in terms of social status, they enjoy greater freedom in sexual matters. I will first give two illustrations of the upper-class attitude toward sexuality, and then turn to lower-class sexuality.

The first illustration of the upper-class attitude toward sexuality is the concept of ladyhood that a lady explains to Helga. It turns out that ladyhood condemns women very much to an asexual existence, even in case they get married. The second illustration is provided through Anne, one of Helga’s upper-class friends in New York. Anne, who is described as Madonna-like by the narrator, turns out to be exactly such an asexual, well-mannered lady of the kind that Helga abhors. In her aversion to sexuality, Anne even goes so far as attempting to save her spouse, Dr. Anderson, from what she perceives as his animalistic "nameless . . shameful" sexual impulses (95).

The Southerners and Helga have one thing in common: their sensuality. This Southern sensuality is illustrated for example through an orgy-like religious service. Significantly, most Southerners Helga meets belong to the lower classes, which can be concluded from their strong accents and their lack of cultivation and taste, at least in Helga's opinion. However, if Helga and the Southerners share their alleged sensuality, there are also insurmountable differences between them. Thus, Larsen complicates the simplistic stereotype of lower-class sensuality. It is highly ironic that Helga - herself from lower-class origin, yet trying to surmount it through education - ends up - of all places - in the rural, ultra-conservative, religious South, where a woman is only told to “trust the Lord more fully” (124) when she is completely exhausted from her domestic chores.

The second space where the ”nameless, shameful” impulses can be located are night clubs. Helga stops by at a Harlem night club, where lascivious music is played and wild dancing takes place. It is important to note here that the Harlem night clubs carried a paradox quality: many of their customers were upper-class blacks and whites who indulged in the feeling of being close to some kind of authentic, low-class black folk culture. The textbook example of this black folk culture and its appropriation is the blues. However, the blues is associated not only with this low-class origin but also with a liberal treatment of sexuality, of hetero- as well as homosexuality.

Regardless how much some African Americans tried to deny it, there was a thriving gay and lesbian scene in Harlem at the time. One place where it could be found was among intellectuals, e.g., writers. The other place where spectral sexuality could be frequently found was among entertainers and singers. Examples would be the blues singers Ma Rainey, George Hannah or Bessie Smith. The average black middle-class woman could only dream of expressing her spectral sexuality as unabashedly as George Hannah put it: "I know women that don't like men.// The way they do is a crying sin.// It's dirty but good, oh yes, it's dirty but good". Neither Helga nor the women characters in Passing ever arrive at such an affirmation of their spectral sexual identities. The blues singers, however, were thought to possess greater sexual freedom than the black middle and upper classes because their music - originating in the rural southern folk culture - was ascribed not only a low-class status but also stereotypical notions of primitivism. During the night club scene, these primitivist stereotypes are evoked when Helga reminds herself that she is no "jungle creature" (59), thus distancing herself from the sensual music and emphasizing her present upper-class affiliation.

Let me wrap up. I have argued that Helga is a queer element regarding both class and sexuality, two categories interconnected in numerous ways. Regarding both class and sexuality, Helga defies simplistic categorization. As a sensual, well-educated person, she remains a shady element both among the civilized, asexual upper classes and among the sensual rural low-class Southerners, who would never condone any sensuality outside heterosexuality. Nevertheless, Helga does live among both groups for certain periods of time. Therefore, the specters of class and sexuality as "materialized" through queer people are present, though believed to be absent. Larsen uses this metaphor of presence and absence herself in Passing when describing Clare Kendry - a queer figure like Helga - as "though absent . . . still present" (224). By describing how Helga moves specter-like in the borderlands of class and sexuality I hope to have made a convincing case for the interconnectedness of class and sexuality.

Queerness and the Specters of Class and Sexuality in Nella Larsen’s Fiction