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Jean ToomerA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Literary Modernism rose in the late 19th and 20th centuries and is characterized by a focus on individual, subjective experience while breaking away from traditional literary formats. Authors typically associated with this writing style include James Joyce, Gertrude Stein, and Ezra Pound. While Modernism is typically identified with white authors from the United States and Europe, Simon Gikandi argues in his essay “Race and the Modernist Aesthetic” that race was integral in developing such a transformative literary and aesthetic movement. He explains that “[i]t was in celebration of the mentality and body of what it considered to be its primitive other that [M]odernism reinvented its aesthetic strategies as one way of freeing itself from [...] the dogmatic authority of the nineteenth century” (Gikandi, Simon. “Race and the Modernist Aesthetic.” Writing and Race. Longman, 1997, p. 148). In other words, creatives looked to an exoticized African aesthetic as a way to introduce newness and otherness to their literary and artistic production. This appeared most obviously in abstractions of the Black female body that often excluded her interiority but overrepresented her physicality. Such representations appeared in Black and white Modernist literature alike. Toomer’s Cane is a prime example of an aesthetic Modernist phenomenon.
In “Blood-Burning Moon,” Toomer describes Louisa as follows: “Her skin was the color of oak leaves on young trees in fall. Her breasts, firm and up-pointed like ripe acorns” (37). In beautiful prose, Toomer deconstructs Louisa from a woman to a female. She is stripped down to her anatomy, her sexuality, and her role as desired and desirous. This is not unlike the recurring trope in Cane of women who are given little interiority but who are the objects of immense male sexual desire. This resonates with the words of scholar Daphne Brooks: “Black women’s bodies continue to bear the gross insult and burden of spectacular (representational) exploitation in transatlantic culture.” She goes on to describe Black women’s bodies as “[s]ystemically overdetermined and mythically configured,” “consistently render[ed] […] as ‘infinitely deconstructable “othered” matter’” (Brooks, Daphne. Bodies in Dissent: Spectacular Performances of Race and Freedom, 1850-1910. Duke University Press, 2006, p. 7). Although speaking to Caribbean iterations of Modernism, it speaks pointedly to how Toomer uses the Southern Black female body in Cane.
In “Theater,” John gazes at Dorris. He writes, “John sees her. Her hair, crisp-curled, is bobbed. Bushy, Black hair bobbing about her lemon-colored face. Her lips are curiously full, and very red. Her limbs in silk purple stockings are lovely” (67). Similar to Toomer’s description of Louisa, John’s gaze deconstructs Dorris into parts of her body. It is evocative of Pablo Picasso’s painting, Les femmes d’Alger (Version “O”) or Wifredo Lam’s La Jungla. These paintings come from the mid-20th century, emerging from artistic movements—such as the Afro-Cubanist movement for Lam—with roots in Modernism. Both of these paintings feature the bodies of women abstracted and deconstructed. They reflect what is apparent in the writing—a vision of the Black female body that is aesthetically central.
Toomer’s Cane is a text of its moment, drawing on Modernism’s literary and artistic aesthetics. Toomer’s engagement with Modernist writing does go beyond his attention to the female body; his writing in chapters such as “Seventh Street” disrupts traditional literary conventions. Toomer uses heavy repetition, sometimes disregards the imperative for words to make sense in relation to one another, and leans into a stream-of-consciousness style in chapters such as “Theater.” However, it is most interesting to see how the Modernist style comes to bear on his depiction of women in Cane.
Cane examines the connection and separation between the mind, body, and soul. In some instances, it is directly related to Christian religious traditions. In others, it pulls away into an unspecified spiritual context. In either circumstance, the reader is encouraged to consider the meditations of a person’s interior feelings, thoughts, and essence. This attention to the mind and soul creates balance with Toomer’s equal attention to the body’s physicality, especially the female body.
“Calling Jesus” and “Prayer” offer explicit examples of Toomer parsing apart the mind, body, and soul. In “Calling Jesus,” the unnamed subject’s “soul is like a little thrust-tailed dog that follows her, whimpering” (72). The dog is often left alone in the cold vestibule and requires “eoho Jesus” to “steal in and cover it that it need not shiver and carry it to her where she sleeps” (72). For her, it is the Christian messiah, Jesus, who provides the suturing of her mind, body, and soul. Even as its premise separates these elements, “Calling Jesus” also plays against their division. It is unusual that in trying to characterize the soul—a disembodied entity—Toomer leans on the very metaphor of a bodily creature. The “little thrust-tailed dog,” then, both represents and disrupts the idea of the soul being separate from the body. “Prayer” makes a similar move, though pulling away from the Christian Jesus and addressing the “Spirits” (89) instead. The speaker laments, “My body is opaque to the soul” (89), as is the speaker’s mind. The speaker considers their soul to be a piece of the greater Spirits it addresses. They cry out metaphorically, “O Spirits of whom my soul is but a little finger” (89). Again, the disembodied, separate soul is likened to something physical and corporeal.
In “Theater,” “Box Seat,” and earlier parts of “Kabnis,” Toomer leans on the name and colon format (i.e., “John:”) to lead the reader into the mind of the characters. For example, with “Box Seat,” the narrative describes Dan knocking on the door. However, following “Dan:,” the reader enters into his thoughts where he resists the urge to break into Muriel’s home and imagines brutally murdering the people inside: “Smash in with the truck. I’ll show em. Grab an ax and brain em. Cut em up. Jack the Ripper” (75). This literary technique allows Toomer to separate his characters’ abstract thoughts and physical actions. This separation is most vivid in “Theater,” where John gets swept up in his daydream about Dorris in the middle of dancing with her. So lost in his mind, his face appears blank, leading Dorris to believe he is disinterested in her. Here, the separation between John’s mind and his body is so distinct that his thoughts and emotions cannot translate onto his face.
Throughout much of Cane, Toomer emphasizes the physical body. In “Reapers” and “Harvest Song,” the reader gets a sense of the hunger, exhaustion, and work of agricultural laborers in the American South. In “Blood-Burning Moon” and “Rhobert,” the reader gets detailed descriptions of bodies—“skin the color of oak leaves” (140) or a “banty-bowed, shaky, rickety-legged man” (54). Toomer balances this attention to the physical with a sustained interest in the mental and spiritual. Like Esther’s mind enigmatically described as a “pink mesh bag filled with baby toes” (33), Toomer innovatively confuses the mental, spiritual, and corporeal to emphasize and undermine their division.
Toomer is a significant figure of the Harlem Renaissance. According to the Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, this is a “term in which Harlem [...] stands for the variety of outposts of African American cultural production in the United States and abroad.” Toomer’s Cane was initially published at the height of this literary movement. It reflects Toomer’s experiences living not only in New York (the home of Harlem) but also in Georgia. Many scholars describe Toomer as part of the Harlem Renaissance project of “championing Black artistic production as a way of attaining full rights and participation in American society” (Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics. Princeton University Press, 2012). Being part of this moment, it is no wonder that the world of Cane explores this renaissance of Black cultural production. This is most apparent in a rowdy, high-energy story such as “Seventh Street.”
“Seventh Street” is centered around the titular street in Washington DC. Toomer paints the historical context. He mentions “Prohibition,” the 1920s enactment of the 18th amendment that “banned the manufacture, transportation, and sale of intoxicating liquors” (“Prohibition.” History, 2009). He mentions “the war,” World War I, an international conflict that would have ended five years prior. Most importantly, “Seventh Street” describes the energetic nightlife that has characterized the Harlem Renaissance since then and through to today’s popular imagination. Toomer writes that African American life is “breathing its loafer air, jazz songs and love, thrusting unconscious rhythms” (51). It evokes the popularity of jazz during the Harlem Renaissance and the cultural significance of music and dancing.
The writing style of “Seventh Street” equally communicates the energy and rhythm of the Harlem Renaissance. Toomer leans into the Modernist literary aesthetic, using run-on and incomplete sentences. Rather than a straightforward narrative, the chapter reads like a spewing of nearly senseless thoughts: “Wedges rust in soggy wood…Split it! In two! Again! Shred it!…the sun” (51). This one, for example, gestures toward some kind of collective game or activity but is not very clear. Lacking paragraph breaks, “Seventh Street” compels fast-paced reading, adds small crescendos to the reading with exclamation points and question marks, and adds brief pauses with a couple of ellipses. Toomer’s writing takes on a rhythm and musicality of its own that emulates that of the jazz that inundated the Harlem Renaissance both in New York City and beyond.
Toomer was praised by W. E. Du Bois and inspired many Black authors. According to Arna Bontemps’s article “The Negro Renaissance: Jean Toomer and the Harlem of the 1920s,” Toomer influenced his contemporaries “Langston Hughes, Countee Cullen, Eric Walrond, Zora Neale Hurston, Wallace Thurman, Rudolph Fisher” and more (Cane. 1988. Norton Critical Edition). Langston Hughes himself “has recalled that the Renaissance writers studied [Cane] assiduously,” Darwin T. Turner writes in his introduction to the 1975 edition of Cane (Cane). Not only was Toomer’s channeling of Harlem Renaissance aesthetics inspirational, but in many ways, he anticipated the Second Renaissance of African American literature of the 1960s. A piece like “Seventh Street” is the quintessential precursor to Black Arts Movement poetry by the likes of Amiri Baraka and Sonia Sanchez.