{"title":"Intricate Intimacies: Reading the Transatlantic Queer in Dinaw Mengestu's All Our Names","authors":"Cajetan Iheka","doi":"10.1353/nlh.2022.0003","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:In Dinaw Mengestu's dual first-person narrative All Our Names (2014), narrator Isaac recounts his departure from a conflict-ridden Ethiopia to Uganda, where he meets the original Isaac from whom he takes the name and passport that eventually enable him to escape from a tumultuous Uganda to the United States. Once in the U.S., the newly minted narrator Isaac begins a romantic relationship with the second narrator, Helen, a white social worker, who assists him on arrival. In the 1970s setting of the novel, narrator Isaac and Helen's interracial romance is fraught, and the text is attentive to the racist complications that the couple face, reminding readers that Africa is unexceptional in the perpetration of violence against Black people. In charting geographies of unfreedom that stretch from Uganda to the United States, Mengestu's novel challenges the overdetermination of African spaces as sites of barbarity and violence. Linking the African space to the American context is the obvious romance between narrator Isaac and Helen, but the novel encodes a more cryptic relationship as well. Mengestu orchestrates interlocking triangles of desire: first with narrator Isaac, the original Isaac, and Joseph, their benefactor in Uganda, and later with Helen, narrator Isaac, and the original Isaac, from whom the narrator derives his travel documents and new identity. As I argue, at the heart of Mengestu's textualization of transcontinental geographies of unfreedom for Black people is a queer script that articulates a repressive infrastructure and repressed desires. Extending the queer archive in African literary criticism and intervening in the reading debate, I read Mengestu's depiction of intricate intimacies as a lesson for recalibrating reading practices against binaries and in praise of queer assemblages of disparate methods as text and context demand.","PeriodicalId":19150,"journal":{"name":"New Literary History","volume":"53 1","pages":"107 - 85"},"PeriodicalIF":0.8000,"publicationDate":"2022-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"1","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"New Literary History","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/nlh.2022.0003","RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"0","JCRName":"LITERATURE","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 1
Abstract
Abstract:In Dinaw Mengestu's dual first-person narrative All Our Names (2014), narrator Isaac recounts his departure from a conflict-ridden Ethiopia to Uganda, where he meets the original Isaac from whom he takes the name and passport that eventually enable him to escape from a tumultuous Uganda to the United States. Once in the U.S., the newly minted narrator Isaac begins a romantic relationship with the second narrator, Helen, a white social worker, who assists him on arrival. In the 1970s setting of the novel, narrator Isaac and Helen's interracial romance is fraught, and the text is attentive to the racist complications that the couple face, reminding readers that Africa is unexceptional in the perpetration of violence against Black people. In charting geographies of unfreedom that stretch from Uganda to the United States, Mengestu's novel challenges the overdetermination of African spaces as sites of barbarity and violence. Linking the African space to the American context is the obvious romance between narrator Isaac and Helen, but the novel encodes a more cryptic relationship as well. Mengestu orchestrates interlocking triangles of desire: first with narrator Isaac, the original Isaac, and Joseph, their benefactor in Uganda, and later with Helen, narrator Isaac, and the original Isaac, from whom the narrator derives his travel documents and new identity. As I argue, at the heart of Mengestu's textualization of transcontinental geographies of unfreedom for Black people is a queer script that articulates a repressive infrastructure and repressed desires. Extending the queer archive in African literary criticism and intervening in the reading debate, I read Mengestu's depiction of intricate intimacies as a lesson for recalibrating reading practices against binaries and in praise of queer assemblages of disparate methods as text and context demand.
期刊介绍:
New Literary History focuses on questions of theory, method, interpretation, and literary history. Rather than espousing a single ideology or intellectual framework, it canvasses a wide range of scholarly concerns. By examining the bases of criticism, the journal provokes debate on the relations between literary and cultural texts and present needs. A major international forum for scholarly exchange, New Literary History has received six awards from the Council of Editors of Learned Journals.