Edited by Azizi Powell
This pancocojams post presents an excerpt from a article in Roots about the sinking of the Titanic, boxer Jack Johnson, and the fictional Black anti-hero Shine.
The content of this post is presented for historical and cultural purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
Thanks to the author of this article and thanks to all those who are quoted in this article.
****
ARTICLE EXCERPT
From https://www.theroot.com/was-a-black-man-on-the-titanic-1790899141 "Was a Black Man on the Titanic?" by Henry Louis Gates Jr., 12/02/13
When the Titanic went down on April 15, 1912, African Americans mourned for the dead, but not believing they included any of their own. As the story went, Jim Crow had unwittingly prevented the taking of black lives in a year otherwise marred by more than 60 lynchings on shore.
[...]
Assuming blacks had had no history with the Titanic, or in its sinking, African Americans did what they do best: they improvised one. After all, the sinking of the Titanic was the most sensationalized news story in a year that had also seen the Balkan states attack the Turkish empire, the Manchu dynasty in China fall and the election of Woodrow Wilson as United States president. “It was not only the multitude of victims that made the catastrophe so overwhelmingly sad,” the Washington Post said in its year-in-review on December 29, 1912, “but the character and importance of many of those who sank.”
Character and importance? Statements like this last one practically dared African Americans to insert themselves into the Titanic narrative. So, putting a black face on the absurd and unexpected consequences of Jim Crow laws, they claimed their own Jack Johnson. The most famous prize-fighter of the day, a black man who had clobbered “The Great White Hope” and been vilified for his three white wives, was supposed to have been on Titanic—and would have been, had the captain not spotted him at the door and barred him because he was black.
It didn’t matter that Johnson was actually in the U.S. when the Titanic set sail from Southampton, England, as Robert Weisbord chronicles in “Black American Perceptions of the Titanic Disaster” in the Winter 1994 edition of Journal of Popular Culture. Johnson fit the narrative black folks needed: He could have afforded the ticket, he was as famous as any other man on board, and he was black.
“Jack Johnson doesn’t have to fight to keep his name in the newspapers,” the Chicago Defender editorialized two bullets down from its Titanic news flash on April 20, 1912. “The reporters seem to be so eager for news that they chronicle every move he makes, private or otherwise. It must be great to be great.” Though still separate news stories that day, it didn’t take long for Jack Johnson and the Titanic to become one.
In fact, that very year Johnson found his way into a folk song made famous by the great bluesman Huddie William Ledbetter, better known as “Lead Belly.” He called it “Titanic,” and in his “Last Sessions,” recorded in New York City in 1948, he explained how he and Blind Lemon Jefferson used to sing it differently depending on the color of the audience. But to Lead Belly, it was—at least he wanted us to believe it was—“the true story,” and he located it in time by adding, “It was the first song I learned to play on a 12-string guitar, 1912.” Here are the “controversial” lyrics (as sung, minus the repeats):
Jack Johnson wanted to get on board,
Captain he says, “I ain’t haulin’ no coal!”
Fare thee, Titanic, fare thee well! …
(Jack Johnson so glad he didn’t get on there.)
When he heard about that mighty shock,
Mighta seen the man turn the Eagle Rock.
Fare thee, Titanic, fare thee well!
The key to Lead Belly’s legend was that it reinforced what many African Americans already felt: that even Jack Johnson—a fighter who, in 1912, represented the race like no other—had (or would have) been snubbed as just another piece of “coal,” so that he (and they) were justified in laughing last when the Titanic went down.
Shine and the Titanic
Perhaps even more popular was the figure of Shine, a legendary trickster troped on in signifying rituals such as the and toasts, running the gamut from the clean to the profane in black barbershops and clubs across America. “Shine,” as a name, may have started out as one of the many names white racists used to insult dark-complexioned black people, but in the legend that African Americans invented, he was a bad-ass hero. Shine wasn’t bounced like Jack Johnson from the Titanic’s passenger list like a piece of “coal,” but hired to shovel it way down in the ship’s boiler room.
Langston Hughes captured the oral tradition surrounding Shine in his piece for the Chicago Defender on July 18, 1953, noting that the Titanic was hot again with the release of a new Hollywood film (called Titanic, it starred Clifton Webb and Barbara Stanwyck). In Hughes’ column, which he titled “When the Titanic Went Down Legend Says a Negro Was There,” he recalled how he’d been but a boy in Kansas in 1912 but “remember[ed] the old folks talking about it and how, ‘Thank God, there were no Negroes on that ship,’ since they drew the color line and the white folks wouldn’t let them ride, so they said.” But, Hughes quickly added, “folklore has it otherwise.
“For most of my adult life,” Hughes explained, “I have been hearing every now and then among the joke tellers, some long-rhymed version about the Negro who saved his life, not by jumping into a life-boat, with the women and children, but by swimming ashore.” And, “[l]ike all folk things,” Hughes wrote, “this story varies in the telling from place to place and person to person.” Which was why Hughes asked his readers to send him their versions. To melt the ice, Hughes printed what he’d already collected.
It was 1912 when the news got
around
That the great Titanic was going
down.
Shine came running up on deck
and told the Captain, “Please,
The water in the boiler room is
up to my knees.”
Captain said, “You better take
your black self back down there!
I got a hundred fifty pumps to
keep the boiler room clear.”
When he was up to his neck in water, however ...
Shine said, “Your words sound
happy and your words sound
true.
But this is one time your word
won’t do.
Because I don’t like chicken and
I don’t like ham—
And I don’t believe your pumps
are worth a damn.”
Swimming away, Shine refused to turn back for even the most lucrative offers from those on board, including the captain, who, by then, knew he’d been wrong.
When all them white folks went
to heaven
Shine was in Sugar Ray’s in Har-
lem drinking Seagrams Seven.
Hughes did a good job of giving the Shine toasts a bath for the Defender’s middle-class readers. For the authentic, canonical versions of the toast, check out the 10 that the folklorist Bruce Jackson collected in his 1974 book, Get Your Ass in the Water and Swim Like Me. These are the classic X-rated renditions of the toast, especially one from Ellis Tom, that Jackson recorded on March 25, 1966.
The basic arc of Shine’s escape is similar in the various versions of the toasts that Jackson collected, but with lots of play in who on board the Titanic is doing the begging for Shine to save them, and what they offer Shine in return, ranging from sex to marriage to fabulous wealth. In Mack’s version, recorded in Jefferson City on June 24, 1964, for example, we see an allusion by the captain to the founder of the Rockefeller dynasty:
Shine jumped in the water and commenced to swim,
four thousand millionaires watchin’ him.
Captain say, “Shine, Shine, save poor me,
I’ll make you richer than old John D.”
Shine turned around and took another notion.
Say, “Captain, your money’s counterfeit in this big-assed ocean.”
Thanks to scholars such as Roger Abrahams, Bruce Jackson, and my departed friend, Larry Neal, Shine will always continue to live—and swim—on, and the toasts to him, Neal wrote in his afterword to the 1968 Black Fire: An Anthology of Black Writing (co-edited with Amiri Baraka), are “part of the private mythology of Black America. [The] symbolism is direct and profound. Shine is US.”
Tracing the Shine legend for the Washington Post, Dana Hull noted in the Dec. 20, 1997 edition how its “smug satisfaction that the Titanic—a symbol of white European arrogance and affluence—sank in its maiden voyage” flowed from the “irony that African Americans were not allowed to make the crossing—thus sparing their lives.” ...
-snip-
This article documents that a Black man - a well to do Haitian Black man Joseph Laroche was aboard the Titanic when it sank. Laroche was married to a White French woman. They and their two children were passengers on the Titanic (Mrs. Laroche was pregnant at that time). When the Titanic hit the iceberg, Joseph Laroche was able to get his family into a life boat, but he perished along with many other men.
****
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Visitor comments are welcome.
Showing posts with label Shine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shine. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
What Is The Meaning Of These Sentences In Chapter 16 Of Chinua Achebe's Novel "Things Fall Apart"
Edited by Azizi Powell
In researching the various vernacular English use of the word "ass" as an intensifier*, I happened upon two comments about Chapter 16 of Chinua Achebe's 1958 novel which appear to me to provide different explanations for villagers saying that a man who spoke a dialect of Ibo (Igbo) said "my buttocks" for "myself".
Before quoting those comments, in the interest of "sussing" out the meaning of those sentences, here's an excerpt of that chapter.
*Here's a link to the pancocojams post that I was working on when I found those comments about "my buttocks" in Chinua Achebe's novel: http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2016/06/comments-examples-about-ass-as.html Comments & Examples About "Ass" As An Intensifier
****
CHAPTER 16: "THINGS FALL APART"*
(Chinua Achebe; (Heinemann Educational Books, Ltd, London, originally published 1958, reprint 1968; pages 131-133)
Page 131
"The arrival of the missionaries had caused a considerable stir in the village of Mbanta. There were six of them and one was a white man. Every man and woman came out to see the white man. Stories about these strange men had grown since one of them had been killed in Abame and his iron horse tied to the sacred silk-cotton tree. And so everybody came to see the white man. It was the time of the year when everybody was home. The harvest was over.
When they had all gathered, the white man began to speak to them. He spoke through an interpreter who was an Ibo man, though his dialect was different and harsh to the ears of Mbanta. Many people laughed at his dialect and the way he used words strangely. Instead of saying 'myself' he always said 'my buttocks'. But he was a man of commanding presence and the clansmen listened to him. He said he was one of them, as they could see from his colour and his language. The other four black men were also their brothers, although one of them did not speak Ibo. The White man was also their brother because they were all sons of God. And he told them about this new God, the Creator of all the world and all the men and women. He told them that they worshipped false gods, gods of wood and stone. A deep murmur
page 132
went through the crowd when he said this. He told them that the true God lived on high and that all men when they died went before Him for judgment. Evil men and all the heathen who in their blindness bowed to wood and stone were thrown into a fire that burned like palm-oil. But good men who worshipped the true God lived for ever in His happy kingdom. "We have been sent by this great God to ask you to leave your wicked ways and false gods and turn to Him that you may be saved when you die," he said.
"Your buttocks understand our language," said someone light-heartedly and the crowd laughed...
At this point an old man said he had a question. "Which is this god of yours, " he asked, "the goddess of the earth, the god of the sky, Amadiora of the thunderbokt, or what?"
The interpreter spoke to the white man and he immediately gave this answer. "All the gods you have named are not gods at all. They are gods of deceit who tell you to kill your fellows and destroy innocent children."
There is only
Page 133
one true God and He has the earth, the sky, you and me and all of us."
"If we leave our gods and follow your god" asked another man, "who will protect us from the anger of our neglected gods and ancestors?"
"Your gods are not alive and cannot do you any harm," replied the white man. "They are pieces of wood and stone."
When this was interpreted to the men of Mbanta they broke into derisive laughter. These men must be mad, they said to themselves. How else could they say that Ani and Amadiora were harmless. And Idmili and Ogwugwu too? And some began to go away.
Then the missionaries burst into song. It was one of those gay and rollicking tunes of evangelism which had the power of plucking at silent and dusty chords in the heart of an Ibo man. The interpreter explained each verse to the audience, some of whom now stood enthralled....
After the singing the interpreter spoke about the Son of God whose name was Jesu Kristi. Okonkwo, whoonly stayed in the hope that it might come to chasing the men out of the village or whipping them, now said:
"You told us with your own mouth that there was only one god. Now you talk about his song. He must have a wife, then." The crowd agreed.
"I did not say He had a wife," said the interpreter, somewhat lamely.
"Your buttocks said he had a son," said the joker. "So he must have a wife and all of them must have buttocks."
The missionary ignored him and went on to talk about the
page 134
Holy Trinity. At the end of it Okonkwo was fully convinced that the man was mad. He shrugged his shoulders and went away to tap his afternoon palm wine."...
****
EXPLANATION QUOTES
These quotes are given in no particular order.
Quote #1
From http://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/t/things-fall-apart/critical-essays/use-of-language-in-things-fall-apart Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe
Critical Essays Use of Language in Things Fall Apart
..."In a 1966 essay reprinted in his book Morning Yet on Creation Day, he [Igbo (Nigerian) novelist Chinua Achebe] says that, by using English, he presents "a new voice coming out of Africa, speaking of African experience in a world-wide language." He recommends that the African writer use English "in a way that brings out his message best without altering the language to the extent that its value as a medium of international exchange will be lost. [The writer] should aim at fashioning out an English which is at once universal and able to carry his peculiar experience." Achebe accomplishes this goal by innovatively introducing Igbo language, proverbs, metaphors, speech rhythms, and ideas into a novel written in English...
Pronunciation of Igbo Names and Words
Like Chinese, the Igbo language is a tonal one; that is, differences in the actual voice pitch and the rise or fall of a word or phrase can produce different meanings. In Chapter 16, for example, Achebe describes how the missionary's translator, though an Igbo, can not pronounce the Mbanto Igbo dialect: "Instead of saying 'myself' he always said 'my buttocks.'" (The form k means strength while k means buttocks.)”...
-snip-
My understanding of that quote is that the interpreter thought that he was saying "myself" but the way he pronounced those words in his dialect of Igbo, the Mbanto (Mbanta) villagers heard the words "my buttocks".
****
Quote #2
From Google Books edition of "Yo Mama!: New Raps, Toasts, Dozens, Jokes, and Children's Rhymes from Urban Black America" by Onwuchekwa Jemie (Temple University Press, 2003), page 20 (introduction)
"Closely allied to "shit" is "ass". These two words rank ahead of all others as the omnibus word, the word-of-all-works in all Ebonics. "Get your ass over here. Set your black ass down. I’ma beat your black ass. Being Captain’s good while it last/But if you can’t swim, that’s your ass. Money good but money don’t last/Shine gotta save his own black ass... They drug his ass out of the sun and laid him in the shade/The animals walked by a viewed his ass like GIs on parade."
page 21
the Delta Igbos use the term the term ike-mu (my buttocks/my ass) and instead of gi (you), they say ike-gi (your ass):
Ike-gi na-akakari anya! Ike-mu na ike-gi anyi bu ogbo? You are very bold and disrespectful! Do you think you are my equal? (lit. [literally] Your ass is very bold and disrespectful. My ass and your ass, are they age mates?)
Among the Igbos, these usages are greeted with laughter, especially by those hearing them for the first time, and speakers of that dialect are teased continually. Chinua Achebe, the great novelist and scholar of Igbo culture captures the fun in Things Fall Apart. A white missionary has arrived at the village of Mbanta, bringing an Igbo interpreter from the Delta:
Then the interpreter spoke of “Jesu Kristi”, who he said was the “Son of God”. A villager queries him:
How did this laughable exception on the mother continent become the rule in settlements across the ocean? How did this lowly part of the anatomy, elevated in personhood in a comical synecdoche in a remote corner of Igboland, come to usurp the African-American kingdom? The Delta was the corridor through which virtually all the Igbo captives passed into the Middle Passage. The Delta dialect was, as it were, the last word they heard on the Motherland. Was it also the word they best remembered?”...
-snip-
The words in italics were written that way in that passage.
Onwuchekwa Jemie identifies the Igbo interpreter who spoke a different form of Igbo as being from the Delta State of Nigeria. Jemie is also from that same part of Nigeria:
From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onwuchekwa_Jemie
"Onwuchekwa Jemie is a Nigerian scholar, poet, journalist, and professor. He was born in Abia State, Nigeria".
From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abia_State
"Abia is a state in the south eastern part of Nigeria.[4] The capital is Umuahia and the major commercial city is Aba. The commercial hub, Aba was formerly a British colonial government outpost in the region. Abia state was created in 1991 from part of Imo State.[5] It is one of the constituent states of the Niger Delta region."
-snip-
Does Jemie mean that the interpreter actually meant to say the words "my buttocks"? Do Delta State Igbos really use "my buttocks" the same way that African Americans (and by extension other Americans) use "my ass" i.e. "Get your ass over here.", Set your black ass down" etc.? Is Onwuchewka Jemie correct that the Delta State Igbos' use of "my buttocks" is the source of African Americans' use of the word "ass" to represent a person's entire body? Or is it the Delta State Igbos' use of "my buttocks" one of the sources of one of the vernacular ways that African Americans use the word "ass"?
****
ADDENDUM- INFORMATION ABOUT THE IGBO LANGUAGE [Added June 13, 2016 4:19 PM)
From http://wikitravel.org/en/Igbo_phrasebook
Igbo phrasebook; Igbo Nsibidi.png
"Igbo (Igbo: Ásụ̀sụ̀ Ìgbò) is a Niger-Congo language spoken primarily in Nigeria. There are between 18-25 million Igbo speakers living primarily in southeastern Nigeria in an area known as Igboland. Igbo is a national language of Nigeria and is also recognised in Equatorial Guinea. Igbo is made up of many different dialects which aren't mutually intelligible to other Igbo speakers at times...
Through the transatlantic slave trade, the Igbo language has influenced many creole languages in the Americas, especially in the former British Caribbean, including islands such as Jamaica, Barbados, Dominica, and Trinidad and Tobago. Variations of Igbo known as Suámo can be found in Cuba. Igbo is spoken by a significant number of people on Bioko island in Equatorial Guinea, formerly known as Fernando Po, and in micro-communities in Cameroon and Equatorial Guinea, and it is also spoken by recent migrants of Igbo descent all over the world.”
****
LINK TO A RELATED PANCOCOJAMS POST
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2016/06/excerpts-from-nairalandcom-nigerian.html for a related post about Delta State Igbos.
Pancocojams posts about "Shine And The Titanic" and about "The Signifying Monkey" (parts of which were quoted in the first paragraph of Onwuchekwa Jemie's passage) can also be found by clicking the tags below or by using the blog's internal search engine.
****
The content of this post is presented for folkloric and cultural purpose.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
Thanks for visiting pancocojams.
Visitor are comments welcome.
In researching the various vernacular English use of the word "ass" as an intensifier*, I happened upon two comments about Chapter 16 of Chinua Achebe's 1958 novel which appear to me to provide different explanations for villagers saying that a man who spoke a dialect of Ibo (Igbo) said "my buttocks" for "myself".
Before quoting those comments, in the interest of "sussing" out the meaning of those sentences, here's an excerpt of that chapter.
*Here's a link to the pancocojams post that I was working on when I found those comments about "my buttocks" in Chinua Achebe's novel: http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2016/06/comments-examples-about-ass-as.html Comments & Examples About "Ass" As An Intensifier
****
CHAPTER 16: "THINGS FALL APART"*
(Chinua Achebe; (Heinemann Educational Books, Ltd, London, originally published 1958, reprint 1968; pages 131-133)
Page 131
"The arrival of the missionaries had caused a considerable stir in the village of Mbanta. There were six of them and one was a white man. Every man and woman came out to see the white man. Stories about these strange men had grown since one of them had been killed in Abame and his iron horse tied to the sacred silk-cotton tree. And so everybody came to see the white man. It was the time of the year when everybody was home. The harvest was over.
When they had all gathered, the white man began to speak to them. He spoke through an interpreter who was an Ibo man, though his dialect was different and harsh to the ears of Mbanta. Many people laughed at his dialect and the way he used words strangely. Instead of saying 'myself' he always said 'my buttocks'. But he was a man of commanding presence and the clansmen listened to him. He said he was one of them, as they could see from his colour and his language. The other four black men were also their brothers, although one of them did not speak Ibo. The White man was also their brother because they were all sons of God. And he told them about this new God, the Creator of all the world and all the men and women. He told them that they worshipped false gods, gods of wood and stone. A deep murmur
page 132
went through the crowd when he said this. He told them that the true God lived on high and that all men when they died went before Him for judgment. Evil men and all the heathen who in their blindness bowed to wood and stone were thrown into a fire that burned like palm-oil. But good men who worshipped the true God lived for ever in His happy kingdom. "We have been sent by this great God to ask you to leave your wicked ways and false gods and turn to Him that you may be saved when you die," he said.
"Your buttocks understand our language," said someone light-heartedly and the crowd laughed...
At this point an old man said he had a question. "Which is this god of yours, " he asked, "the goddess of the earth, the god of the sky, Amadiora of the thunderbokt, or what?"
The interpreter spoke to the white man and he immediately gave this answer. "All the gods you have named are not gods at all. They are gods of deceit who tell you to kill your fellows and destroy innocent children."
There is only
Page 133
one true God and He has the earth, the sky, you and me and all of us."
"If we leave our gods and follow your god" asked another man, "who will protect us from the anger of our neglected gods and ancestors?"
"Your gods are not alive and cannot do you any harm," replied the white man. "They are pieces of wood and stone."
When this was interpreted to the men of Mbanta they broke into derisive laughter. These men must be mad, they said to themselves. How else could they say that Ani and Amadiora were harmless. And Idmili and Ogwugwu too? And some began to go away.
Then the missionaries burst into song. It was one of those gay and rollicking tunes of evangelism which had the power of plucking at silent and dusty chords in the heart of an Ibo man. The interpreter explained each verse to the audience, some of whom now stood enthralled....
After the singing the interpreter spoke about the Son of God whose name was Jesu Kristi. Okonkwo, whoonly stayed in the hope that it might come to chasing the men out of the village or whipping them, now said:
"You told us with your own mouth that there was only one god. Now you talk about his song. He must have a wife, then." The crowd agreed.
"I did not say He had a wife," said the interpreter, somewhat lamely.
"Your buttocks said he had a son," said the joker. "So he must have a wife and all of them must have buttocks."
The missionary ignored him and went on to talk about the
page 134
Holy Trinity. At the end of it Okonkwo was fully convinced that the man was mad. He shrugged his shoulders and went away to tap his afternoon palm wine."...
****
EXPLANATION QUOTES
These quotes are given in no particular order.
Quote #1
From http://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/t/things-fall-apart/critical-essays/use-of-language-in-things-fall-apart Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe
Critical Essays Use of Language in Things Fall Apart
..."In a 1966 essay reprinted in his book Morning Yet on Creation Day, he [Igbo (Nigerian) novelist Chinua Achebe] says that, by using English, he presents "a new voice coming out of Africa, speaking of African experience in a world-wide language." He recommends that the African writer use English "in a way that brings out his message best without altering the language to the extent that its value as a medium of international exchange will be lost. [The writer] should aim at fashioning out an English which is at once universal and able to carry his peculiar experience." Achebe accomplishes this goal by innovatively introducing Igbo language, proverbs, metaphors, speech rhythms, and ideas into a novel written in English...
Pronunciation of Igbo Names and Words
Like Chinese, the Igbo language is a tonal one; that is, differences in the actual voice pitch and the rise or fall of a word or phrase can produce different meanings. In Chapter 16, for example, Achebe describes how the missionary's translator, though an Igbo, can not pronounce the Mbanto Igbo dialect: "Instead of saying 'myself' he always said 'my buttocks.'" (The form k means strength while k means buttocks.)”...
-snip-
My understanding of that quote is that the interpreter thought that he was saying "myself" but the way he pronounced those words in his dialect of Igbo, the Mbanto (Mbanta) villagers heard the words "my buttocks".
****
Quote #2
From Google Books edition of "Yo Mama!: New Raps, Toasts, Dozens, Jokes, and Children's Rhymes from Urban Black America" by Onwuchekwa Jemie (Temple University Press, 2003), page 20 (introduction)
"Closely allied to "shit" is "ass". These two words rank ahead of all others as the omnibus word, the word-of-all-works in all Ebonics. "Get your ass over here. Set your black ass down. I’ma beat your black ass. Being Captain’s good while it last/But if you can’t swim, that’s your ass. Money good but money don’t last/Shine gotta save his own black ass... They drug his ass out of the sun and laid him in the shade/The animals walked by a viewed his ass like GIs on parade."
page 21
the Delta Igbos use the term the term ike-mu (my buttocks/my ass) and instead of gi (you), they say ike-gi (your ass):
Ike-gi na-akakari anya! Ike-mu na ike-gi anyi bu ogbo? You are very bold and disrespectful! Do you think you are my equal? (lit. [literally] Your ass is very bold and disrespectful. My ass and your ass, are they age mates?)
Among the Igbos, these usages are greeted with laughter, especially by those hearing them for the first time, and speakers of that dialect are teased continually. Chinua Achebe, the great novelist and scholar of Igbo culture captures the fun in Things Fall Apart. A white missionary has arrived at the village of Mbanta, bringing an Igbo interpreter from the Delta:
But he was a man of commanding presence and the clansmen listened to him...
“Your buttocks understands our language” said someone lightheartedly and the crowd laughed. (Achebe, Things, 134-135
Then the interpreter spoke of “Jesu Kristi”, who he said was the “Son of God”. A villager queries him:
You told us with your own mouth that there was only one god. Now you talk of his son. He must have a wife, then.” The crowd agreed.
“I did not say He had a wife,” said the interpreter somewhat lamely.
“Your buttocks said he had a son,” said the joker. So he must have a wife and all of them must have buttocks”. (Achebe, Things, 136-137
How did this laughable exception on the mother continent become the rule in settlements across the ocean? How did this lowly part of the anatomy, elevated in personhood in a comical synecdoche in a remote corner of Igboland, come to usurp the African-American kingdom? The Delta was the corridor through which virtually all the Igbo captives passed into the Middle Passage. The Delta dialect was, as it were, the last word they heard on the Motherland. Was it also the word they best remembered?”...
-snip-
The words in italics were written that way in that passage.
Onwuchekwa Jemie identifies the Igbo interpreter who spoke a different form of Igbo as being from the Delta State of Nigeria. Jemie is also from that same part of Nigeria:
From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onwuchekwa_Jemie
"Onwuchekwa Jemie is a Nigerian scholar, poet, journalist, and professor. He was born in Abia State, Nigeria".
From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abia_State
"Abia is a state in the south eastern part of Nigeria.[4] The capital is Umuahia and the major commercial city is Aba. The commercial hub, Aba was formerly a British colonial government outpost in the region. Abia state was created in 1991 from part of Imo State.[5] It is one of the constituent states of the Niger Delta region."
-snip-
Does Jemie mean that the interpreter actually meant to say the words "my buttocks"? Do Delta State Igbos really use "my buttocks" the same way that African Americans (and by extension other Americans) use "my ass" i.e. "Get your ass over here.", Set your black ass down" etc.? Is Onwuchewka Jemie correct that the Delta State Igbos' use of "my buttocks" is the source of African Americans' use of the word "ass" to represent a person's entire body? Or is it the Delta State Igbos' use of "my buttocks" one of the sources of one of the vernacular ways that African Americans use the word "ass"?
****
ADDENDUM- INFORMATION ABOUT THE IGBO LANGUAGE [Added June 13, 2016 4:19 PM)
From http://wikitravel.org/en/Igbo_phrasebook
Igbo phrasebook; Igbo Nsibidi.png
"Igbo (Igbo: Ásụ̀sụ̀ Ìgbò) is a Niger-Congo language spoken primarily in Nigeria. There are between 18-25 million Igbo speakers living primarily in southeastern Nigeria in an area known as Igboland. Igbo is a national language of Nigeria and is also recognised in Equatorial Guinea. Igbo is made up of many different dialects which aren't mutually intelligible to other Igbo speakers at times...
Through the transatlantic slave trade, the Igbo language has influenced many creole languages in the Americas, especially in the former British Caribbean, including islands such as Jamaica, Barbados, Dominica, and Trinidad and Tobago. Variations of Igbo known as Suámo can be found in Cuba. Igbo is spoken by a significant number of people on Bioko island in Equatorial Guinea, formerly known as Fernando Po, and in micro-communities in Cameroon and Equatorial Guinea, and it is also spoken by recent migrants of Igbo descent all over the world.”
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LINK TO A RELATED PANCOCOJAMS POST
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2016/06/excerpts-from-nairalandcom-nigerian.html for a related post about Delta State Igbos.
Pancocojams posts about "Shine And The Titanic" and about "The Signifying Monkey" (parts of which were quoted in the first paragraph of Onwuchekwa Jemie's passage) can also be found by clicking the tags below or by using the blog's internal search engine.
****
The content of this post is presented for folkloric and cultural purpose.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
Thanks for visiting pancocojams.
Visitor are comments welcome.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Coonjine Baby & Other Examples Of Coonjine Songs
This is Part II of a two part pancocojams series about counjaille songs & dances and coonjine songs & dances. This post showcases eight examples of Coonjine songs or fragments of songs. Some of these examples include information about Coonjine songs.
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/11/in-search-of-information-about_2.html for Part I of this series. That post provides excerpts from material that provides information about those songs and dances. I also share my speculations in that post about why I think that counjaille and coonjine songs and dances seem to have been largely forgotten.
The content of this post is presented for folkloric, historical, and cultural purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
****
Part II
INFORMATION ABOUT "COONJINE" SONGS
"Coonjine" is a term that refers to the songs & dances performed by 19th century/early 20th century African American steamboat laborers (roustabouts). "Coonjine" ("coonshine" and other similar terms) also refers to a vernacular dance or dances that probably derived at least in part from the movements of the Black roustabouts who sang "coonjine songs" while they worked.
This excerpt from the 1939 manuscript "Coonjine In Manhatten" http://lcweb2.loc.gov/wpa/07070413.html refers to coonjine songs being sung while loading cotton. The author Garnett Laidlaw Eskew goes on to write:
"And there was another value to Coonjine. Moving in perfect time meant that the rousters' feet hit the stageplank with uniform precision. A wise thing, too! For if a rouster should step upon the vibrating boards out of time, and thus catch the rebound of the stage-plank, he was very likely to be catapulted with his load over into that muddy bourne from which no roustabout returns--or rarely so."
The word "coonjine" is probably an English language Americanized form of the French Caribbean & French Louisiana dance called the "counjaille".
Note that "coonjine" is a verb in that it refers to a type of walking and/or dancing movement. Here are three examples of this usage from the songs given below: "You might have seen the roustabout coonjine", "Coonjine, baby, won't you coonjine", and "coonjine out".
I've not come across any documents in which Black roustabouts were reported as saying "do the coonjine" or "sing the coonjine". Those noun forms of the word "coonjine" appeart to be a later development that isn't authentic to Black roustabouts who originated the type of songs that are now known as "Coonjine songs".
****
EXAMPLES OF COONJINE SONGS
Here are several text [word only] examples of Coonjine songs that include the word "coonjine"*.
These examples are presented in no particular order.
Unfortunately, to date, I've not found any YouTube video of Counjaille or Coonjine dances. Nor have I found any examples of songs that have the word "Counjaille" or "Coonjine"/"Coonshine") in their title.
*Note: All Coonjine songs don't have the word "Coonjine" in their title or in their lyrics. For instance, "standard" versions of the Ragtime and Old Time Music songs with the title "Alabama Bound" don't include the word "coonjine" although some verses of those songs may have included that word. Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/11/leadbelly-golden-gate-quartet-alabama.htmlfor a pancocojams post on the song "Alabama Bound".
Example #1:
From Traditional Music in Coastal Louisiana: The 1934 Lomax Recordings p. 247-249 by Joshua Clegg Caffery
[Quoting interviewee [African American] John Bray]
..."he [John Bray] plays a “coonjine” song of the type that is associated with steamboat roustabouts of the nineteenth and early twentieth century – a culture he was probably familiar with.
COONJINE, ROUSTABOUTS, COONJINE
We don’t do nothing but load this boat.
Ho day. Ho day. Ho day.
Come on men [you cigarette rollers]
Got yourself a n----r, six more shoulders.
Ho day. Ho day. Ho day.
How many men got trouble in mind?
Might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, the roustabout, coonjine.
Coonjine, the roustabout, coonjine.
How many men got trouble in mind?
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
All along the river [….]
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, the roustabout, coonjine.
How many men got trouble in mind?
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, oh woman let me tell you why.
Mighta seen your old man [clear o’er the river where]
big boats [never land].
clear o’er the river
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, coonjine, the roustabout coonjine.
How many men got trouble in mind?
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine.
From New Orleans, big ole boat.
[High along, pile on?] the Mississippi.
Called the Robert E. Lee
Lord, you might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine."
****
Example #2: The Milwaukee Journal - Jul 15, 1931, p. 9
“When Negroes Did The Coonjine Down Ole Mississippi Gangplanks”
[Google News]
Ole roustabout ain’t got no home
Makes his living on his shoulder bone.
****
Example #3:
From http://www.loc.gov/resource/wpalh0.07070205/seq-4#seq-4
Title: The Black South in Chicago ; Contributor Names Eskew, Garnett L. (Interviewer) Sims, George (Interviewee) Created Published Chicago, Illinois
1939
"Manuscripts from the Federal Writers' Project, 1936 to 1940
You done ask me 'bout steamboat songs. Hit bin zo long ago, an' I done jined de church sense I lef down dar, dat I mos fergit all about Coonjone. But dey wuz one song day we uster sing dat went like dis:
Sing dis song in de city,
Roll dat cotton bale!
N___r* always happy
When he gits out of jail.
Mobile's got de wimmin,
Boston got de beans,
New Yawk done got flashin' swells,
But de n____r* like N'yawleens,
Cho: Coonjine, baby, won't you coonjine,
Coonjine, honey, is you game,
Mammy won't lemme coonjine
But I coonjine jus' de same!
"Sing hit fer you? Lawd, boss, I aint sung no sich song for forty years. Hit went like dis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (NOTE: He sang it, but impossible to reproduce it.)
"We useter sing dat song when I was workin' on de Alice B. Miller, runnin' up Yazoo River and sometime when I work on de Saint John, a cotton boat, dat run up Red River."
*What is now known as "the n word" is completely spelled out in this article.
****
Example #4:
From http://lcweb2.loc.gov/wpa/07070413.html "Coonjine In Manhattan". Garnett Laidlaw Eskew, 1939
"Coonjine songs were not spirituals--neither the genuine nor the "Broadway" variety. There was nothing spiritual about them that I have been able to discover.
Into these songs the rousters put the problems and the incidents of the day's labor, the characteristics of the people they met. The {Begin page no. 5}peculiarities of a mate or captain or fellow rouster; the speed and qualities of a particular boat; the charms or meanness of a woman-friend; domestic matters--all these were subjects which the steamboat roustabouts move into the texture of the Coonjine songs with which they lightened the labor of steamboat work. Composed sometimes on the spur of the moment, or garbled versions of songs previously heard, often the words were ridiculous, sometimes senseless, but nearly always ludicrous with occasionally a touch of pathos...
Standing there with him [a former Black roustabout] in the West Street pier shed, I gathered a sizeable collection of Coonjine songs. Many, I have no doubt, bore only a slight resemblance to the original wordings. For roustabouts felt, so long as they preserved the thought and central idea and rhythm of a song, they could change the words at will. Sometime they abandoned the existing words and made up new words of their own. I have heard different versions of barely recognizable Coonjine songs in various towns from St. Louis to the Delta"...
Vicksburg roustabouts were also partial to this song, which had reference to a certain one-armed hard-fisted steamboat mate, named Lew Brown. {Begin page no. 9}
Taint no use for dodgin' roun'
Dat ole mate jes' behine you.
Better cut dat step and coonjine out
Dat ole jes' behine you
-snip-
"cut dat [that] step and coonjine out" probably means "leave in a hurry.".
Note: That page includes several examples of Coonjine songs that don't include the word "coonjine". Warning: This page inludes what we now call the "n word".
****
Example #5:
From Lynne Fauley Emery's book Black Dance from 1619 to Today {second edition; Princeton Book Company, 1988, pps 146-147}:
'The term Counjaille, or Coojine is still used in southern United States waterfront areas to mean moving or loading cotton, an activity that once, in all probablility, was accompanied by Counjaille-type songs and rhythms. Negro children on the docks and levies sand such songs as:
Throw me a nickle, throw me a dime
If you want to see me do the Coojine.'
****
Example #6:
From Josh White: Society Blues [Google Books] by Elijah Wald
[p.9]
"[A childhood friend of Black American singer, guitarist, songwriter, actor, and civil rights musician Josh White (February 11, 1914 – September 5, 1969) [Perry] Fuller also provides a vignette that shows how closely secular and religious music can overlap, at least among younger members of the family.
“He remembers the kids gathered around the piano while Marie Huff, who was seven years Josh’s senior, pounded out ragtime tunes: “She would be playing that tune “Coonjine, coojine, baby/Coojine,baby, coojine/ Mama don’t ‘low you to coonjine/papa don’t ‘low you to try/Get up in the morning/ coonjine on the sly.” Fuller sings quietly bobbing his head to the bouncy melody. And then Aunt Lizzie started coming into the room and they’d change around, start to sing [to the same tune] “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so”.
****
Example #7:
From Barrelhouse Words: A Blues Dialect Dictionary by Stephen Calt [Google Books]
Page 60
Coonjine, my lady, coonjine
Mama don’t allow me to coonjine”
-The Black Hillbillies, Kunjine Baby, 1929
An obsolete dance enshrined in the eight bar ditty of the same or like name. The musical theme associated with it was excerpted in Gottschalk’s “Bamboula” (1847) and printed in Allen, Ware, and Garrison’s Slave Songs Of The United States (1867) as one of four Louisiana tunes “for a simple dance, a sort of minuet, called the Coonjai. By 1910 it had become a Black children’s dance and a beginner’s piano piece in the South. It’s original or prevalent name is in doubt; Little Brother Montgomery who learned it in 1910, stated that the dance/song was actually Coon Giant. As Kunjine it received its first recorded treatment, by Alan Lada in 1921. Puckett, who described it in 1925, as “a sort of Negro dance” done in Louisiana, rendered it as Coonjai, while Bessie Jones (of the Georgia Sea Isles) and Skip James recalled it as Coonshine.Cf DARE which relates it solely to a swaying gait.
****
Example #8:
From Bessie Jones' and Bess Lomax Hawes' book Step It Down: Games, Plays, Songs, and Stories from the Afro-American Heritage ; p. 131-132
COONSHINE BABY
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine on the sly,
Mama don't 'low me to coonshine,
Papa don't 'low me to try,
Onliest way I coonshine,
I coonshine on the sly.
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine on the sly.
Someday I'm gonna coonshine,
Coonshine anyhow
Mama don't 'low me to coonshine,
Papa don't 'low me to try,
Onliest way I coonshine,
I coonshine on the sly.
Coonshine, baby, coonshine, etc.
When I get grown I’m gonna coonshine
Coonshine anyhow
Mama don't 'low me to coonshine,
Papa don't 'low me to try,
Onliest way I coonshine,
I coonshine on the sly
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine anyhow
-snip-
Bess Lomax Hawes wrote that she didn’t get a chance to see this dance, but from the song’s lyrics she gathered that people considered it to be a scandalous dance.
-snip-
"I coonshine on the sly" means I sneak to do that dance; I secretely do that dance when no one is watching.
****
Thanks to all those who sung & danced the Coonjine.
Thanks also to those who are quoted in this post.
Thanks for visiting pancocojams.
Visitor comments are welcome.
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/11/in-search-of-information-about_2.html for Part I of this series. That post provides excerpts from material that provides information about those songs and dances. I also share my speculations in that post about why I think that counjaille and coonjine songs and dances seem to have been largely forgotten.
The content of this post is presented for folkloric, historical, and cultural purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
****
Part II
INFORMATION ABOUT "COONJINE" SONGS
"Coonjine" is a term that refers to the songs & dances performed by 19th century/early 20th century African American steamboat laborers (roustabouts). "Coonjine" ("coonshine" and other similar terms) also refers to a vernacular dance or dances that probably derived at least in part from the movements of the Black roustabouts who sang "coonjine songs" while they worked.
This excerpt from the 1939 manuscript "Coonjine In Manhatten" http://lcweb2.loc.gov/wpa/07070413.html refers to coonjine songs being sung while loading cotton. The author Garnett Laidlaw Eskew goes on to write:
"And there was another value to Coonjine. Moving in perfect time meant that the rousters' feet hit the stageplank with uniform precision. A wise thing, too! For if a rouster should step upon the vibrating boards out of time, and thus catch the rebound of the stage-plank, he was very likely to be catapulted with his load over into that muddy bourne from which no roustabout returns--or rarely so."
The word "coonjine" is probably an English language Americanized form of the French Caribbean & French Louisiana dance called the "counjaille".
Note that "coonjine" is a verb in that it refers to a type of walking and/or dancing movement. Here are three examples of this usage from the songs given below: "You might have seen the roustabout coonjine", "Coonjine, baby, won't you coonjine", and "coonjine out".
I've not come across any documents in which Black roustabouts were reported as saying "do the coonjine" or "sing the coonjine". Those noun forms of the word "coonjine" appeart to be a later development that isn't authentic to Black roustabouts who originated the type of songs that are now known as "Coonjine songs".
****
EXAMPLES OF COONJINE SONGS
Here are several text [word only] examples of Coonjine songs that include the word "coonjine"*.
These examples are presented in no particular order.
Unfortunately, to date, I've not found any YouTube video of Counjaille or Coonjine dances. Nor have I found any examples of songs that have the word "Counjaille" or "Coonjine"/"Coonshine") in their title.
*Note: All Coonjine songs don't have the word "Coonjine" in their title or in their lyrics. For instance, "standard" versions of the Ragtime and Old Time Music songs with the title "Alabama Bound" don't include the word "coonjine" although some verses of those songs may have included that word. Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/11/leadbelly-golden-gate-quartet-alabama.htmlfor a pancocojams post on the song "Alabama Bound".
Example #1:
From Traditional Music in Coastal Louisiana: The 1934 Lomax Recordings p. 247-249 by Joshua Clegg Caffery
[Quoting interviewee [African American] John Bray]
..."he [John Bray] plays a “coonjine” song of the type that is associated with steamboat roustabouts of the nineteenth and early twentieth century – a culture he was probably familiar with.
COONJINE, ROUSTABOUTS, COONJINE
We don’t do nothing but load this boat.
Ho day. Ho day. Ho day.
Come on men [you cigarette rollers]
Got yourself a n----r, six more shoulders.
Ho day. Ho day. Ho day.
How many men got trouble in mind?
Might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, the roustabout, coonjine.
Coonjine, the roustabout, coonjine.
How many men got trouble in mind?
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
All along the river [….]
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, the roustabout, coonjine.
How many men got trouble in mind?
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, oh woman let me tell you why.
Mighta seen your old man [clear o’er the river where]
big boats [never land].
clear o’er the river
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine, coonjine, the roustabout coonjine.
How many men got trouble in mind?
You might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine.
From New Orleans, big ole boat.
[High along, pile on?] the Mississippi.
Called the Robert E. Lee
Lord, you might have seen the roustabout coonjine.
Coonjine."
****
Example #2: The Milwaukee Journal - Jul 15, 1931, p. 9
“When Negroes Did The Coonjine Down Ole Mississippi Gangplanks”
[Google News]
Ole roustabout ain’t got no home
Makes his living on his shoulder bone.
****
Example #3:
From http://www.loc.gov/resource/wpalh0.07070205/seq-4#seq-4
Title: The Black South in Chicago ; Contributor Names Eskew, Garnett L. (Interviewer) Sims, George (Interviewee) Created Published Chicago, Illinois
1939
"Manuscripts from the Federal Writers' Project, 1936 to 1940
You done ask me 'bout steamboat songs. Hit bin zo long ago, an' I done jined de church sense I lef down dar, dat I mos fergit all about Coonjone. But dey wuz one song day we uster sing dat went like dis:
Sing dis song in de city,
Roll dat cotton bale!
N___r* always happy
When he gits out of jail.
Mobile's got de wimmin,
Boston got de beans,
New Yawk done got flashin' swells,
But de n____r* like N'yawleens,
Cho: Coonjine, baby, won't you coonjine,
Coonjine, honey, is you game,
Mammy won't lemme coonjine
But I coonjine jus' de same!
"Sing hit fer you? Lawd, boss, I aint sung no sich song for forty years. Hit went like dis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (NOTE: He sang it, but impossible to reproduce it.)
"We useter sing dat song when I was workin' on de Alice B. Miller, runnin' up Yazoo River and sometime when I work on de Saint John, a cotton boat, dat run up Red River."
*What is now known as "the n word" is completely spelled out in this article.
****
Example #4:
From http://lcweb2.loc.gov/wpa/07070413.html "Coonjine In Manhattan". Garnett Laidlaw Eskew, 1939
"Coonjine songs were not spirituals--neither the genuine nor the "Broadway" variety. There was nothing spiritual about them that I have been able to discover.
Into these songs the rousters put the problems and the incidents of the day's labor, the characteristics of the people they met. The {Begin page no. 5}peculiarities of a mate or captain or fellow rouster; the speed and qualities of a particular boat; the charms or meanness of a woman-friend; domestic matters--all these were subjects which the steamboat roustabouts move into the texture of the Coonjine songs with which they lightened the labor of steamboat work. Composed sometimes on the spur of the moment, or garbled versions of songs previously heard, often the words were ridiculous, sometimes senseless, but nearly always ludicrous with occasionally a touch of pathos...
Standing there with him [a former Black roustabout] in the West Street pier shed, I gathered a sizeable collection of Coonjine songs. Many, I have no doubt, bore only a slight resemblance to the original wordings. For roustabouts felt, so long as they preserved the thought and central idea and rhythm of a song, they could change the words at will. Sometime they abandoned the existing words and made up new words of their own. I have heard different versions of barely recognizable Coonjine songs in various towns from St. Louis to the Delta"...
Vicksburg roustabouts were also partial to this song, which had reference to a certain one-armed hard-fisted steamboat mate, named Lew Brown. {Begin page no. 9}
Taint no use for dodgin' roun'
Dat ole mate jes' behine you.
Better cut dat step and coonjine out
Dat ole jes' behine you
-snip-
"cut dat [that] step and coonjine out" probably means "leave in a hurry.".
Note: That page includes several examples of Coonjine songs that don't include the word "coonjine". Warning: This page inludes what we now call the "n word".
****
Example #5:
From Lynne Fauley Emery's book Black Dance from 1619 to Today {second edition; Princeton Book Company, 1988, pps 146-147}:
'The term Counjaille, or Coojine is still used in southern United States waterfront areas to mean moving or loading cotton, an activity that once, in all probablility, was accompanied by Counjaille-type songs and rhythms. Negro children on the docks and levies sand such songs as:
Throw me a nickle, throw me a dime
If you want to see me do the Coojine.'
****
Example #6:
From Josh White: Society Blues [Google Books] by Elijah Wald
[p.9]
"[A childhood friend of Black American singer, guitarist, songwriter, actor, and civil rights musician Josh White (February 11, 1914 – September 5, 1969) [Perry] Fuller also provides a vignette that shows how closely secular and religious music can overlap, at least among younger members of the family.
“He remembers the kids gathered around the piano while Marie Huff, who was seven years Josh’s senior, pounded out ragtime tunes: “She would be playing that tune “Coonjine, coojine, baby/Coojine,baby, coojine/ Mama don’t ‘low you to coonjine/papa don’t ‘low you to try/Get up in the morning/ coonjine on the sly.” Fuller sings quietly bobbing his head to the bouncy melody. And then Aunt Lizzie started coming into the room and they’d change around, start to sing [to the same tune] “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so”.
****
Example #7:
From Barrelhouse Words: A Blues Dialect Dictionary by Stephen Calt [Google Books]
Page 60
Coonjine, my lady, coonjine
Mama don’t allow me to coonjine”
-The Black Hillbillies, Kunjine Baby, 1929
An obsolete dance enshrined in the eight bar ditty of the same or like name. The musical theme associated with it was excerpted in Gottschalk’s “Bamboula” (1847) and printed in Allen, Ware, and Garrison’s Slave Songs Of The United States (1867) as one of four Louisiana tunes “for a simple dance, a sort of minuet, called the Coonjai. By 1910 it had become a Black children’s dance and a beginner’s piano piece in the South. It’s original or prevalent name is in doubt; Little Brother Montgomery who learned it in 1910, stated that the dance/song was actually Coon Giant. As Kunjine it received its first recorded treatment, by Alan Lada in 1921. Puckett, who described it in 1925, as “a sort of Negro dance” done in Louisiana, rendered it as Coonjai, while Bessie Jones (of the Georgia Sea Isles) and Skip James recalled it as Coonshine.Cf DARE which relates it solely to a swaying gait.
****
Example #8:
From Bessie Jones' and Bess Lomax Hawes' book Step It Down: Games, Plays, Songs, and Stories from the Afro-American Heritage ; p. 131-132
COONSHINE BABY
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine on the sly,
Mama don't 'low me to coonshine,
Papa don't 'low me to try,
Onliest way I coonshine,
I coonshine on the sly.
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine on the sly.
Someday I'm gonna coonshine,
Coonshine anyhow
Mama don't 'low me to coonshine,
Papa don't 'low me to try,
Onliest way I coonshine,
I coonshine on the sly.
Coonshine, baby, coonshine, etc.
When I get grown I’m gonna coonshine
Coonshine anyhow
Mama don't 'low me to coonshine,
Papa don't 'low me to try,
Onliest way I coonshine,
I coonshine on the sly
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine, baby, coonshine
Coonshine anyhow
-snip-
Bess Lomax Hawes wrote that she didn’t get a chance to see this dance, but from the song’s lyrics she gathered that people considered it to be a scandalous dance.
-snip-
"I coonshine on the sly" means I sneak to do that dance; I secretely do that dance when no one is watching.
****
Thanks to all those who sung & danced the Coonjine.
Thanks also to those who are quoted in this post.
Thanks for visiting pancocojams.
Visitor comments are welcome.
In Search Of Information About Counjaille & Coonjine Songs & Dances
Edited by Azizi Powell
This is Part I of a two part series about counjaille songs & dances and coonjine songs & dances. This post provides excerpts from material that provides information about those songs and dances. I also share my speculations in this post about why I think that counjaille and coonjine songs and dances seem to have been largely forgotten.
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/11/coonjine-baby-other-examples-of.html for Part II of this series. That post presents information about coonjine songs and eight examples of songs or song fragments that include the word "coonjine" or "coonshine".
The content of this post is presented for folkloric, historical, and cultural purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
****
Part I
INFORMATION ABOUT COUNJAILLE AND COONJINE
From http://www.lameca.org/dossiers/gwoka/references/glossaire/glossaire_eng.html GLOSSARY (by Joby Bourguignon)
"Counjaille.
One of the popular tunes in Guadeloupe «Counjaille O Counjaille etc...) and is proof of a Congolese presence in the country. This term describes a dance from the Congolese ritual, traces of which can be found in Guadeloupe and Santo Domingo in 1807/1809 at a time when ethnic groups were travelling from these countries to New Orleans to escape from the Napoleonic wars.
In the same way as the bamboula, Calinda, Chacha etc., these dances were performed from French Guiana to New Orleans as well as Santo Domingo and all of the French West Indies.
Considered to be indecent, the «Place Congo» was banned in New Orleans in 1843. (This ban was respected throughout the Caribbean and reinforced the Edict of March 1685, and was recorded by the Sovereign Council of Santo Domingo on May 6th, 1687 under the name “Code Noir”). Art. 16...
It is important to specify that in the Creole language, this word can mean several different things. The same word describes the music, dance, group gathering, etc..."
****
From Lynne Fauley Emery's book Black Dance from 1619 to Today {second edition; Princeton Book Company, 1988, pps 146-147}
"The Coonjine, another of the river dances, was still "remembered in scattered areas through the Antilles" as late as 1963. In the Caribbean, however the dance was performed during carnival time and called the "Counjaille", while in the United States the Coonjine was performed on the waterfront by the black roustabouts and "was a rhythmic shuffle affected to expedite loading and unloading..." Harold Courlander reported:
'The term Counjaille, or Coojine is still used in southern United States waterfront areas to mean moving or loading cotton, an activity that once, in all probablility, was accompanied by Counjaille-type songs and rhythms. Negro children on the docks and levies sand such songs as:
Throw me a nickle, throw me a dime
If you want to see me do the Coojine.'
According to Mary Wheeler. The Coonjine was a combination of song and dance connected with freight handling on the steamboats.
'The "plank walk" springs under a heavy weight or even under the lighter step of the rouster when he trots back again empty handed for more freight. To avoid jarring, the feet are dragged along the stage plank accompanied by a song that takes its rhythm from the shuffling feet and swaying shoulders.'
Allen, Ware, and Garrison mentioned the Coonjai and described it as a sort of Minuet, Unfortunately, although the authors spparently saw the dance, they described the musical accompaniment rather than the movements".
****
From Traditional Music in Coastal Louisiana: The 1934 Lomax Recordings Joshua Clegg Caffery (Google Book, pp. 247-249)
"The word coonjine, as it is employed here, as it was apparently most commonly understood in nineteenth- century America, refers to the particular body movements enacted by black workers while unloading or loading freight (Hardie 2004, 115-16). While the word was associated with these movements, it could also apply to any songs or dances performed by these laborers while going about their work. More broadly, the word came to be associated with any riparian African American song and dance style.
The roots of the word coonjine extend well beyond this meaning, and some have noted that it likely relates to the term counjaille, a dance popular in Creole communities in French Louisiana and the West Indies (Knowles 2002, 63-64). In the seminal Slave Songs Of The South, for instance, mention is made of a counjaille being performed in St. Charles Parish (a “sort of minuet”), suggesting that the counjaille in question may have been part of the complex of quadrille/contredanse sets found disseminated throughout Creole culture (Allen et al, 1867, 137).
Counjaille or Coonjine may also relate to the Haitian dance known as the koudyay or the Nicaraguan kujai. Although these dances are wildly different, their names have a common linguistic root in the West Indian dance performance known as “coup de jaille” (meaning a spontaneous spouting forth), a term that seems to have originated in colonial French military and political celebrations (Manuel, 2009, 31). In 1937 John Lomax recorded a song that referenced dancing the counjallee from a self-described Creole Haitian descendant in a nursing home in New Orleans (AFS 809 A01). In general, then, like European dance forms like the mazurka, quadrille, or jig, counjaile functioned as a basic name for a dance movement that accompanied a wide variety of vernacular, creolized associations.
It should also be mentioned that coonjine performers in the United States were among the most visible exponents of African American oral art in the 19th century. As steamboat roustabouts, they were in close contact with white people of various ethnic and economic backgrounds – a context that allowed their performances to permeate the boundaries of race and class. Not surprisingly, many of the early blackface minstrel performers may have based their performances of the songs and dances of the musical roustabouts (Kenney, 2005, 29-30), and roustabout coonjine songs may have marked an intermediate phase between plantation performances and the explosion of minstrelsy in the mid nineteenth century- a middle stage of African American vernacular music’s absorption into America’s popular music consciousness.”
-snip-
Here's information about The Black Bottom which indicates that that dance derives from an older dance. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Bottom_(dance)
"The Original Black Bottom Dance" was printed in 1919. It came from an earlier dance called "Jacksonville Rounders' Dance" printed in 1907. The word "Rounder" was a synonym for "pimp." Both "dance-songs" were written by black pianist, composer and dancer Perry Bradford and were based on a dance done in Jacksonville, Florida "way back." One professional dancer stated, "That dance is as old as the hills." The dance was well known among semi-rural blacks across the South. A similar dance with many variations had been commonly used in tent show performances, and "Bradford and Jeanette" had used it as a finale. The dance was featured in the Harlem show Dinah in 1924, and then "The Scandals of 1926," whereupon it became a national craze."
-snip-
I wonder if the "Jacksonville Rounders' Dance" may have been another name for the Coonjine or if the "Jacksonville Rounders' Dance" was derived from the Coonjine dance.
Also, read this video summary from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsukq62fMA4 "Black Bottom - Vintage Blues Dance"
"The Black Bottom (aka Swanee Bottom) was originally from New Orleans, later worked its way to Georgia and finally New York. Some say the Black Bottom was introduced by blues singer "Alberta Hunter" (which is probably true as many songs & dances were "stolen" and reproduced by someone else). However, it has been reported that the Black Bottom was derived from an earlier and similar dance called the "Echo." The dance was done all over the South before Bradford wrote his song in 1919.
Simple moves were created by natural movements, like the stomp was to imitate a cow's feet stuck in mud."
-snip-
That video includes a brief clip of two young Black boys doing some dancing movements that are labeled the Black Bottom by that film's narrator.[.57-1.06]. The sub-title at 1.07-1.08 reads "The colored kids got it from a cow stuck in the mud".*
That film clip also shows two young Black girls doing some movements that are said to be the Black Bottom.[Unfortunately, only the top portions of their bodies are shown. [4:21-4:27]
*"Colored" is a no longer used referent for all African Americans regardless of their skin color. That referent largely ceased being used in the 1960s & 1970s.
"It" in that sentence means "the movements to the Black Bottom dance". "From a cow stuck in the mud" means "imitating the foot movements of a cow stuck in the mud". Of course, this isn't meant to be taken seriously, although many African American dances were created by imitating birds or specific animals.
Was the "Echo" dance "that was done all over the South before Bradford wrote his song in 1919" a more socially acceptable name for the Coonjine?
****
Note: The following excerpt from the 1886 magazine article points out the improvisational, open ended nature of counjaille songs and improvisational nature of the counjaille dance.
George W. Cable, "Creole Slave Dances: The Dance in Place Congo" (published in The Century Magazine, Vol. 31, Nr. 4 [February 1886], pp. 517-532)
Quoted in http://www.angelpig.com/congo9.html "The Dance In Place Congo" New Orleans [p. 9]
"V. COUNJAILLE
“Suddenly the song changes. The rhythm sweeps away long and smooth like a river escaping from its rapids, and in new spirit, with louder drum beats and more jocund rattles, the voices roll up into the sky and the dancers are at it. Aye yai yi!
I could give four verses, but let one suffice; it is from a manuscript copy of the words, probably a hundred years old that fell into my hands through the courtesy of an old Creole lady…The counjaille was never complete, and found its end, for the time being in the caprice of its improviser, whose rich, stentorian voice sounded alone between the refrains. But while we discourse other couples have stepped into the grassy area and the instrumental din has risen to a fresh height of inspiration, the posing, the thigh-beating, the breast-patting and chanting and swinging and writhing has risen, and the song has changed.
But the dance has not changed, and love is still the theme. Sweat streaks from black brows, down the shining black necks and throats, upon men’s bare chest, and unto dark, unstayed bosoms. Time wares, shadows lengthen; but the movement is brisker than ever, and the big feet and the bent shanks, are as light as thistles on the air. Let one flag, another has his place, and a new song gives vehemence, new inventions in steps, turns, and attitudes."
****
From Google News
The Milwaukee Journal - Jul 15, 1931, p. 9
“When Negroes Did The Coonjine Down Ole Mississippi Gangplanks”
Singing songs as they shuffled along made the totin’ easier and made the Roustabouts forget their troubles, Tunes created to fit the occassion.
“Now coonjine ~the name of that swinging, slouchy loose kneed, dance of the negro roustabouts up and down the Mississippi steamboat's” [planks’?]*
*The word in brackets wasn't visible in the online version of that newspaper article.
Note that approved spelling for the word "Negro" is with an upper class case "n" since at least the early 1960s. However, some Black Americans spell that word with a lower case "n" to refer to a Black person who acts like an "Uncle Tom".
****
EDITORIAL COMMENT:
Why aren't counjaille and coonjine songs and dances more widely known or at least known as much as other Caribbean and African American vernacular dances such as the Calinda, and African American dances such as the Cake Walk, the Black Bottom, the Charleston, and The Shimmy? Filmed examples of those other listed African American vernacular dances from the 18th century and 19th century/early 20th century dances can be found on YouTube. There are at least two historical film clips of the cake walk on YouTube. There are also several film clips of White dancers from the early to mid twentieth century performing those other dances - but, regrettably, I've not yet found any film clips of Black people performing those other dances. However, to date, I've not found any song or dance examples of the counjaille or the coonjine on YouTube.
In my opinion, the main reason why so little information is known nowadays about "coonjine" songs & dances is that song & dance name itself.
The word "coonjine" and its alternate name "coonshine" begin with the problematic syllable "coon". That word evokes distrubing and stigmatizing images of Black slavery and black faced minstrelsy. I admit that until faily recently I shied away from reading anything about black-faced minstrelsy and just the names "coonjine" or "coonshine" would have been a big turn off for me. And I don't think that I'm the only Black person who has this gut distaste for and avoidance of anything that is even slightly related to "minstrelsy". For example, I used to avoid any songs or isntrumentals that featured banjos. Thanks in large part to the contemporary African American Old Time music group The Carolina Chocolate Drops, I've begun to explore that music and actually (surprisingly for me) like much of it. But I still cringe when I read about that Old Time music because I know that I may come across what is now called "the n word" and such examples of 19th Black dialectic English as "gwine" and "massa".
While some "coonjine" songs & dances influenced White blackfaced minstrelsy -and also Black blacfaced minstrelsy- "coonjine" songs were much more than material for those performers.
And it should be admitted that some but not all Southern Black Americans used the word "coon" as a self-referent and a group referent in the 19th century. However, I don't think that most Black Americans that time, used "coon" that way. Certainly, Black people who were trying to "raise the race" and/or Black people who wanted to be considered more acceptable by White people wouldn't have been happy that "coonjine"/coonshine" was included that "coon" syllable.
The word "coonshine" may have started out as a form of the word "coonjine" (which itself probably is derived from the word "counjaille". However, I believe the vernacular connotations of the word "shine" as it related to Black people is another reason why the name "coonshine"/"coonjine" was retired for those dances and songs.
"Shine" is the name of an anti-hero in African American [usually bawdy] narratives called "toasts". One relatively well known example of those toasts is "Shine And The Titanic".*
The character's name "Shine" and the use of the word "shine" as an informal referent for Black men probably was coined because of the erroneous belief that dark black skin shone like blue-black shoe polish.
Also, White people may have shied away from the name "coonjine" because the syllable “coon” in that dance was the same as the vernacular referent for Black people and that term was too lower class and too reminiscent of plantation South for White "polite society."
I also wonder if the similarity of the word "coonshine" to the colloquial word for liquor "moonshine" may have contributed to that lack of acceptance of the name "coonshine" among White people and Black people. "Moonshine" evokes images of White hillbillies, and that group of people were looked down on by other White people, contributing to the connotation of "coonshine" as a lower class name for that dance.
However, while Black people-eventually retired the "coonjine" dance name, they continued or adapted that dance's movements under a different name or names. (I'm not sure if White people ever knew enough about that vernacular dance to be said to have eeventually dropped its' name.)
For instance, I wonder if the Black Bottom was a slowed down version of the Coonjine. After all, both of these 19th century dances are said to have originated in Louisiana. Notice how in the following excerpt the Black Bottom is said to have been based on an "old dance".
*Click http://www.louisianafolklife.org/LT/Articles_Essays/creole_art_toast_tradition.html for commentary about African American toasts and a "clean" examples of "Shine And The Titanic".
Also, it seems to me that another reason why Coonjine didn't become a White dance craze [at least not under that name.], probably for the reasons I gave in point #1. Note that almost always the term “dance craze” in the United States refers to dances that White people pick up & modify from Black people. There don't appear to be any films of White people or Black people doing the Coonjine. - prior to the Lindy Hop/Swing era, Black dancers were rarely filmed doing vernacular dances.
Furthermore, for the most part, African Americans aren’t good at preserving, honoring, and disseminating information about our cultural history. In astrology terms, Black people are far more Uranian than we are Saturnian, meaning we are much more interested in innovating new dances and other cultural forms, including new forms of old dances, than we are in preserving old forms.
Thanks to all those who sung & danced the Counjaille and the Coonjine.
Thanks also to those who are quoted in this post.
Thanks for visiting pancocojam.
Visitor comments are welcome.
This is Part I of a two part series about counjaille songs & dances and coonjine songs & dances. This post provides excerpts from material that provides information about those songs and dances. I also share my speculations in this post about why I think that counjaille and coonjine songs and dances seem to have been largely forgotten.
Click http://pancocojams.blogspot.com/2013/11/coonjine-baby-other-examples-of.html for Part II of this series. That post presents information about coonjine songs and eight examples of songs or song fragments that include the word "coonjine" or "coonshine".
The content of this post is presented for folkloric, historical, and cultural purposes.
All copyrights remain with their owners.
****
Part I
INFORMATION ABOUT COUNJAILLE AND COONJINE
From http://www.lameca.org/dossiers/gwoka/references/glossaire/glossaire_eng.html GLOSSARY (by Joby Bourguignon)
"Counjaille.
One of the popular tunes in Guadeloupe «Counjaille O Counjaille etc...) and is proof of a Congolese presence in the country. This term describes a dance from the Congolese ritual, traces of which can be found in Guadeloupe and Santo Domingo in 1807/1809 at a time when ethnic groups were travelling from these countries to New Orleans to escape from the Napoleonic wars.
In the same way as the bamboula, Calinda, Chacha etc., these dances were performed from French Guiana to New Orleans as well as Santo Domingo and all of the French West Indies.
Considered to be indecent, the «Place Congo» was banned in New Orleans in 1843. (This ban was respected throughout the Caribbean and reinforced the Edict of March 1685, and was recorded by the Sovereign Council of Santo Domingo on May 6th, 1687 under the name “Code Noir”). Art. 16...
It is important to specify that in the Creole language, this word can mean several different things. The same word describes the music, dance, group gathering, etc..."
****
From Lynne Fauley Emery's book Black Dance from 1619 to Today {second edition; Princeton Book Company, 1988, pps 146-147}
"The Coonjine, another of the river dances, was still "remembered in scattered areas through the Antilles" as late as 1963. In the Caribbean, however the dance was performed during carnival time and called the "Counjaille", while in the United States the Coonjine was performed on the waterfront by the black roustabouts and "was a rhythmic shuffle affected to expedite loading and unloading..." Harold Courlander reported:
'The term Counjaille, or Coojine is still used in southern United States waterfront areas to mean moving or loading cotton, an activity that once, in all probablility, was accompanied by Counjaille-type songs and rhythms. Negro children on the docks and levies sand such songs as:
Throw me a nickle, throw me a dime
If you want to see me do the Coojine.'
According to Mary Wheeler. The Coonjine was a combination of song and dance connected with freight handling on the steamboats.
'The "plank walk" springs under a heavy weight or even under the lighter step of the rouster when he trots back again empty handed for more freight. To avoid jarring, the feet are dragged along the stage plank accompanied by a song that takes its rhythm from the shuffling feet and swaying shoulders.'
Allen, Ware, and Garrison mentioned the Coonjai and described it as a sort of Minuet, Unfortunately, although the authors spparently saw the dance, they described the musical accompaniment rather than the movements".
****
From Traditional Music in Coastal Louisiana: The 1934 Lomax Recordings Joshua Clegg Caffery (Google Book, pp. 247-249)
"The word coonjine, as it is employed here, as it was apparently most commonly understood in nineteenth- century America, refers to the particular body movements enacted by black workers while unloading or loading freight (Hardie 2004, 115-16). While the word was associated with these movements, it could also apply to any songs or dances performed by these laborers while going about their work. More broadly, the word came to be associated with any riparian African American song and dance style.
The roots of the word coonjine extend well beyond this meaning, and some have noted that it likely relates to the term counjaille, a dance popular in Creole communities in French Louisiana and the West Indies (Knowles 2002, 63-64). In the seminal Slave Songs Of The South, for instance, mention is made of a counjaille being performed in St. Charles Parish (a “sort of minuet”), suggesting that the counjaille in question may have been part of the complex of quadrille/contredanse sets found disseminated throughout Creole culture (Allen et al, 1867, 137).
Counjaille or Coonjine may also relate to the Haitian dance known as the koudyay or the Nicaraguan kujai. Although these dances are wildly different, their names have a common linguistic root in the West Indian dance performance known as “coup de jaille” (meaning a spontaneous spouting forth), a term that seems to have originated in colonial French military and political celebrations (Manuel, 2009, 31). In 1937 John Lomax recorded a song that referenced dancing the counjallee from a self-described Creole Haitian descendant in a nursing home in New Orleans (AFS 809 A01). In general, then, like European dance forms like the mazurka, quadrille, or jig, counjaile functioned as a basic name for a dance movement that accompanied a wide variety of vernacular, creolized associations.
It should also be mentioned that coonjine performers in the United States were among the most visible exponents of African American oral art in the 19th century. As steamboat roustabouts, they were in close contact with white people of various ethnic and economic backgrounds – a context that allowed their performances to permeate the boundaries of race and class. Not surprisingly, many of the early blackface minstrel performers may have based their performances of the songs and dances of the musical roustabouts (Kenney, 2005, 29-30), and roustabout coonjine songs may have marked an intermediate phase between plantation performances and the explosion of minstrelsy in the mid nineteenth century- a middle stage of African American vernacular music’s absorption into America’s popular music consciousness.”
-snip-
Here's information about The Black Bottom which indicates that that dance derives from an older dance. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Bottom_(dance)
"The Original Black Bottom Dance" was printed in 1919. It came from an earlier dance called "Jacksonville Rounders' Dance" printed in 1907. The word "Rounder" was a synonym for "pimp." Both "dance-songs" were written by black pianist, composer and dancer Perry Bradford and were based on a dance done in Jacksonville, Florida "way back." One professional dancer stated, "That dance is as old as the hills." The dance was well known among semi-rural blacks across the South. A similar dance with many variations had been commonly used in tent show performances, and "Bradford and Jeanette" had used it as a finale. The dance was featured in the Harlem show Dinah in 1924, and then "The Scandals of 1926," whereupon it became a national craze."
-snip-
I wonder if the "Jacksonville Rounders' Dance" may have been another name for the Coonjine or if the "Jacksonville Rounders' Dance" was derived from the Coonjine dance.
Also, read this video summary from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsukq62fMA4 "Black Bottom - Vintage Blues Dance"
"The Black Bottom (aka Swanee Bottom) was originally from New Orleans, later worked its way to Georgia and finally New York. Some say the Black Bottom was introduced by blues singer "Alberta Hunter" (which is probably true as many songs & dances were "stolen" and reproduced by someone else). However, it has been reported that the Black Bottom was derived from an earlier and similar dance called the "Echo." The dance was done all over the South before Bradford wrote his song in 1919.
Simple moves were created by natural movements, like the stomp was to imitate a cow's feet stuck in mud."
-snip-
That video includes a brief clip of two young Black boys doing some dancing movements that are labeled the Black Bottom by that film's narrator.[.57-1.06]. The sub-title at 1.07-1.08 reads "The colored kids got it from a cow stuck in the mud".*
That film clip also shows two young Black girls doing some movements that are said to be the Black Bottom.[Unfortunately, only the top portions of their bodies are shown. [4:21-4:27]
*"Colored" is a no longer used referent for all African Americans regardless of their skin color. That referent largely ceased being used in the 1960s & 1970s.
"It" in that sentence means "the movements to the Black Bottom dance". "From a cow stuck in the mud" means "imitating the foot movements of a cow stuck in the mud". Of course, this isn't meant to be taken seriously, although many African American dances were created by imitating birds or specific animals.
Was the "Echo" dance "that was done all over the South before Bradford wrote his song in 1919" a more socially acceptable name for the Coonjine?
****
Note: The following excerpt from the 1886 magazine article points out the improvisational, open ended nature of counjaille songs and improvisational nature of the counjaille dance.
George W. Cable, "Creole Slave Dances: The Dance in Place Congo" (published in The Century Magazine, Vol. 31, Nr. 4 [February 1886], pp. 517-532)
Quoted in http://www.angelpig.com/congo9.html "The Dance In Place Congo" New Orleans [p. 9]
"V. COUNJAILLE
“Suddenly the song changes. The rhythm sweeps away long and smooth like a river escaping from its rapids, and in new spirit, with louder drum beats and more jocund rattles, the voices roll up into the sky and the dancers are at it. Aye yai yi!
I could give four verses, but let one suffice; it is from a manuscript copy of the words, probably a hundred years old that fell into my hands through the courtesy of an old Creole lady…The counjaille was never complete, and found its end, for the time being in the caprice of its improviser, whose rich, stentorian voice sounded alone between the refrains. But while we discourse other couples have stepped into the grassy area and the instrumental din has risen to a fresh height of inspiration, the posing, the thigh-beating, the breast-patting and chanting and swinging and writhing has risen, and the song has changed.
But the dance has not changed, and love is still the theme. Sweat streaks from black brows, down the shining black necks and throats, upon men’s bare chest, and unto dark, unstayed bosoms. Time wares, shadows lengthen; but the movement is brisker than ever, and the big feet and the bent shanks, are as light as thistles on the air. Let one flag, another has his place, and a new song gives vehemence, new inventions in steps, turns, and attitudes."
****
From Google News
The Milwaukee Journal - Jul 15, 1931, p. 9
“When Negroes Did The Coonjine Down Ole Mississippi Gangplanks”
Singing songs as they shuffled along made the totin’ easier and made the Roustabouts forget their troubles, Tunes created to fit the occassion.
“Now coonjine ~the name of that swinging, slouchy loose kneed, dance of the negro roustabouts up and down the Mississippi steamboat's” [planks’?]*
*The word in brackets wasn't visible in the online version of that newspaper article.
Note that approved spelling for the word "Negro" is with an upper class case "n" since at least the early 1960s. However, some Black Americans spell that word with a lower case "n" to refer to a Black person who acts like an "Uncle Tom".
****
EDITORIAL COMMENT:
Why aren't counjaille and coonjine songs and dances more widely known or at least known as much as other Caribbean and African American vernacular dances such as the Calinda, and African American dances such as the Cake Walk, the Black Bottom, the Charleston, and The Shimmy? Filmed examples of those other listed African American vernacular dances from the 18th century and 19th century/early 20th century dances can be found on YouTube. There are at least two historical film clips of the cake walk on YouTube. There are also several film clips of White dancers from the early to mid twentieth century performing those other dances - but, regrettably, I've not yet found any film clips of Black people performing those other dances. However, to date, I've not found any song or dance examples of the counjaille or the coonjine on YouTube.
In my opinion, the main reason why so little information is known nowadays about "coonjine" songs & dances is that song & dance name itself.
The word "coonjine" and its alternate name "coonshine" begin with the problematic syllable "coon". That word evokes distrubing and stigmatizing images of Black slavery and black faced minstrelsy. I admit that until faily recently I shied away from reading anything about black-faced minstrelsy and just the names "coonjine" or "coonshine" would have been a big turn off for me. And I don't think that I'm the only Black person who has this gut distaste for and avoidance of anything that is even slightly related to "minstrelsy". For example, I used to avoid any songs or isntrumentals that featured banjos. Thanks in large part to the contemporary African American Old Time music group The Carolina Chocolate Drops, I've begun to explore that music and actually (surprisingly for me) like much of it. But I still cringe when I read about that Old Time music because I know that I may come across what is now called "the n word" and such examples of 19th Black dialectic English as "gwine" and "massa".
While some "coonjine" songs & dances influenced White blackfaced minstrelsy -and also Black blacfaced minstrelsy- "coonjine" songs were much more than material for those performers.
And it should be admitted that some but not all Southern Black Americans used the word "coon" as a self-referent and a group referent in the 19th century. However, I don't think that most Black Americans that time, used "coon" that way. Certainly, Black people who were trying to "raise the race" and/or Black people who wanted to be considered more acceptable by White people wouldn't have been happy that "coonjine"/coonshine" was included that "coon" syllable.
The word "coonshine" may have started out as a form of the word "coonjine" (which itself probably is derived from the word "counjaille". However, I believe the vernacular connotations of the word "shine" as it related to Black people is another reason why the name "coonshine"/"coonjine" was retired for those dances and songs.
"Shine" is the name of an anti-hero in African American [usually bawdy] narratives called "toasts". One relatively well known example of those toasts is "Shine And The Titanic".*
The character's name "Shine" and the use of the word "shine" as an informal referent for Black men probably was coined because of the erroneous belief that dark black skin shone like blue-black shoe polish.
Also, White people may have shied away from the name "coonjine" because the syllable “coon” in that dance was the same as the vernacular referent for Black people and that term was too lower class and too reminiscent of plantation South for White "polite society."
I also wonder if the similarity of the word "coonshine" to the colloquial word for liquor "moonshine" may have contributed to that lack of acceptance of the name "coonshine" among White people and Black people. "Moonshine" evokes images of White hillbillies, and that group of people were looked down on by other White people, contributing to the connotation of "coonshine" as a lower class name for that dance.
However, while Black people-eventually retired the "coonjine" dance name, they continued or adapted that dance's movements under a different name or names. (I'm not sure if White people ever knew enough about that vernacular dance to be said to have eeventually dropped its' name.)
For instance, I wonder if the Black Bottom was a slowed down version of the Coonjine. After all, both of these 19th century dances are said to have originated in Louisiana. Notice how in the following excerpt the Black Bottom is said to have been based on an "old dance".
*Click http://www.louisianafolklife.org/LT/Articles_Essays/creole_art_toast_tradition.html for commentary about African American toasts and a "clean" examples of "Shine And The Titanic".
Also, it seems to me that another reason why Coonjine didn't become a White dance craze [at least not under that name.], probably for the reasons I gave in point #1. Note that almost always the term “dance craze” in the United States refers to dances that White people pick up & modify from Black people. There don't appear to be any films of White people or Black people doing the Coonjine. - prior to the Lindy Hop/Swing era, Black dancers were rarely filmed doing vernacular dances.
Furthermore, for the most part, African Americans aren’t good at preserving, honoring, and disseminating information about our cultural history. In astrology terms, Black people are far more Uranian than we are Saturnian, meaning we are much more interested in innovating new dances and other cultural forms, including new forms of old dances, than we are in preserving old forms.
Thanks to all those who sung & danced the Counjaille and the Coonjine.
Thanks also to those who are quoted in this post.
Thanks for visiting pancocojam.
Visitor comments are welcome.
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