The Unacknowledged Legacy of 19 th Century Slave Narratives
In appropriating 19 th century slave narratives for a contemporary plot , the casting decisions are telling . If race does not play a role in Gilead or Westworld ’ s park — if , as Maeve says to her clients , “ this is the new world , and in this world , you can be whoever the fuck you want ” (“ Chestnut ” 17:30- 17:36 )— why are Black women relegated to roles that force them to perform sex work ? June can be an outraged mother searching for her daughter and Dolores can be an articulate hero rising as a self-made woman , but Moira and Maeve operate in roles in which they are physically exposed and lack agency . Unlike their white counterparts , they cannot choose their sexual partners ( Maeve may appear to choose , especially with Hector , but she is bound by a strict new loop scripting her entire escape attempt ). What does it mean for contemporary audiences that they are told race is irrelevant to these narratives while Black women are relegated to sex work to have a place in these stories ? Archetypes like the articulate hero and the outraged mother , once represented by strong Black individuals , are now denied to Black female characters in spite of their generic origins .
As The Handmaid ’ s Tale and Westworld employ archetypes from 19 th century slave narratives , they also embrace its formulaic plot constructions . In some ways , this is unsurprising ; what else would a 21 st century audience expect from their enslaved protagonist but a continuous move towards escape ? But when these visual narratives are placed in conversation with their 19 th century predecessors , the parallels that emerge move beyond the universal drive for free will and are instead thinly-veiled reproductions of the American enslaved experience , once again appropriated by a white female protagonist .
A consistent feature of slave narratives is the experience of 19