In class we spoke about how Uncle Tom’s Cabin was distinct from other texts we had encountered this semester in that it was written for the present day instead of attempting to be a lasting piece of literature read years after being written. Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, in several places, distinctly considers its 19th century reader. For instance, when Jacobs describes being protected by the wife of a senator in New England, she specifically refers to the senator in the 19th century best seller Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Furthermore, Jacobs refers to a 19th century pro-slavery political figure John Mitchell. These moments which are particularly relevant to the 19th century reader are important in showing to the intended audience how here autobiography is relevant. However, as opposed to the conclusion of Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Jacobs does not end her autobiography by directly calling the readers to action against slavery. She instead thanks those she has been surrounded by, such as her grandmother and Mrs. Burns, who have shown her love amidst her adversity. While Jacobs does not as directly call her readers to political action or refer to the increasing tension in the United States, the references she makes throughout the text make her biography more pertinent for the 19th century reader.
References Made in Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl
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I agree with you that Jacobs quite explicitly writes to a 19th century audience. I would go so far as to say she does directly reference political tension in the U.S., though, at least in her treatment of the Fugitive Slave Act. This is perhaps most explicit in the instance you mention of the senator, whom she claims “would not have voted for the Fugitive Slave Law, as did the senator in ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin.'” The Fugitive Slave Act also comes up when Jacobs meets Luke, a fugitive, in the streets of New York, and “asked him if he did not know New York was a city of kidnappers.” This scene alludes to other passages in which Jacobs makes quite clear her low opinion of the North’s complicity with the South through such a law. She describes feelings of “insecurity” in the face of a law under which “bloodhounds of the north” worked for “bloodhounds of the south” in establishing “a reign of terror to the colored population.” That is some strong, even hellish, language. The entire proceeding passage is a call for the reader to confront the heartbreaking circumstances and tragedies brought upon families under the Fugitive Slave Act. She even addresses the politicians themselves, asking “But what cared the legislators of the ‘dominant race’ for the blood they were crushing out of trampled hearts?” Jacobs adamantly critiques New York’s compliance with the law, referring to its passage as “a disgrace to a city calling itself free.” Here, Jacobs’ having been impacted personally by the law inevitably produces a passionate condemnation within her narrative, and I sense that the process of writing this text was likely deeply painful and yet – hopefully – somewhat cathartic for Jacobs. Such an underlying tone, in my opinion, makes passages of this text much more powerful than parallel passages in Uncle Tom’s Cabin.