In an article entitled “From Fugitive Slave to Man of Letters: The Conversion of Frederick Douglass,” Lucinda H. MacKethan writes “For the slave, however, ‘entitling’ signified a central paradox; one had to know one’s letters in order to be free, but in America, one had to be free in order to learn one’s letters. In this double bind the fugitive slave found the greatest challenge to his achievement of full human status” (56). MacKethan says this reality was emphasized for Douglass when Hugh Auld warned his wife about teaching him to read. Furthermore, the “entitling” MacKethan describes is a former slave’s process of selecting letters to represent themselves as a free person. Hence, the paradox she refers to also relates to the fact that one had to know how to read in order to assert their humanity and give themselves a free name, but one usually had to be free already in order to learn how to read.
MacKethan describes Douglass’s narrative within the context of spiritual autobiographies, suggesting that his feeling that he was “chosen” resonates theologically, and forms an association between spirituality and literacy. Commenting about Douglass’s observation that he was selected from a group in which “There were those younger, those older, and those of the same age,” McKethan writes “What he was chosen for is made quite clear in Chapters Six and Seven, which form the center of the Narrative and deal exclusively with Douglass’s personal discovery of the power of words” (59).
MacKethan suggests that Douglass emphasizes the power of words by juxtaposing his description of acts of violence with the aggressive use of words. She writes “What he takes particular care to note is a use of physical force almost always accompanied by a manipulative language strategy. The overseer Mr. Severe, for instance, was not only a ‘cruel’ man but a ‘profane swearer’ who used words in the same manner and to the same effect that he used his whip” (59).
Lucinda MacKethan asserts that Douglass moves from the discussion of the overseers’ swearing to the “unmeaning jargon” of the sorrow songs to indicate “their powerlessness in relation to the power residing in the profanity of overseers” (59-60).
Lucinda MacKethan writes “In Chapter Five, Douglass was told to bathe in preparation for his new employment in Baltimore; he responded by scrubbing off not just the ‘mange’ of his past life but almost ‘the skin itself’ in a kind of ironic baptism to make himself worthy of the ‘election’ by white masters that he next infers” (60). MacKethan associates this spiritual preparation with literacy, suggesting that Douglass’s baptism relates to the fact that he has been chosen for a situation that will lead to his literacy, which will result in his “salvation from slavery.”
In keeping with Lucinda MacKethan’s assertion that Douglass’s autobiography has religious overtones, it’s worth noting that the “hungry white street urchins” who Douglass bribed “with bread” were enacting a chiasmatic reversal of scripture. Matthew 4:4 reads “But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” While Douglass is willing to relinquish bread for words, or for the ability to wield words, the boys he learns from inadvertently offer him ability with words, in exchange for bread. Furthermore, MacKethan characterizes this scene as a “‘first communion’ experience complete with consecrated bread” (61).
Lucinda MacKethan indicates that it’s relevant that Douglass receives The Columbia Orator at the age of 12 because Protestant children often begin the confirmation process at this time in their lives. She writes, “Douglass shows himself, then, at the ‘perfect’ age for receiving, as if by divine intervention, his own sacred text” (61).
Comparing Douglass’s autobiography to Jonathan Edwards’ Personal Narrative, MacKethan relates the misery Douglass experiences, after literacy gives him new perspective about his condition, to Edwards’ self-loathing after growing spiritual awareness makes him more conscious of his shortcomings. (61-62)
MacKethan writes “Mastering letters enabled Douglass to write his ‘pass’ and to ‘pass’ into a world where he could no longer be named a slave” (64). Her use of antanaclasis here, or a homonymic pun, aligns MacKethan’s writing with the African American literary tradition, at least according to the criteria Henry Louis Gates, Jr. established in The Signifying Monkey. Hence, Lucinda MacKethan not only writes about the black literary tradition, she also participates in it as she writes about it.
In keeping with her religious reading of the text, Lucinda MacKethan compares the prospect of Henry eating his pass to “the Holy Communion” rite of eating “the word” (66). This corresponds to her theory that Douglass’s transformation from an illiterate slave to a word-wielding free man parallels religious tales of conversion.
Commenting on Robert Stepto’s opinion that Douglass’s omission of the details surrounding his escape serves to authenticate his tale, Lucinda MacKethan asserts that this omission also gives the narrative greater religious significance. (As MacKethan notes, Stepto’s comments to this effect appear on p. 25 of From Behind the Veil). MacKethan writes “Although this is a perceptive interpretation of Douglass’s intentions, we might also infer that, in terms of the organizing principles of the conversion narrative paradigm, the actual physical removal would not have the inner spiritual significance of certain other events” (66).