A Modern day context for I’tessamudin’s Narrative: “American penis so Big, Japanese penis soooo small”

I would like to revisit Blog #6 “Reversing the Gaze” about Diplomatic Thuggery for the purpose of improving my “A-” to “A+”.

4. Why would I’tessamudin write a memoir of his travels if his diplomatic mission in England ended in failure?

The memoir of I’tessamudin’s travels exists because it really happened, despite the failure of the diplomatic mission in England. It is an historical account of “the first Indian to visit Britain and write about it,” (8). This brings me to decontextualize what the question is really asking, “Why doesn’t I’tessamudin just shut up if he lost?” His mission was a failure, the Indians were dominated by European Imperialism, the British trade missions were sabotaged, and he’s an Asian man in England; so what? I’tessamudin sees the might and wealth of European industry, and wants his country to also pursue such a development. The poor caste of India deserves the same scientific, technological, and economic developments as the West, and in writing the autoethnography, Wonders of Vilayet, he does the work of “reversing the gaze” which entrenches Orientalist thinkers who are constrained by European constructs of what it means to be, in I’tessamuddin’s case, Asian. His response, however, serves to disrupt to these constraints, and even though his missions failed, there is much still to accomplish in writing his memoirs.

In the South Park episode about “Chinpokemon,” Japanese capitalists trick the American consumers by feeding their egos, “You are American? Yes. Ohhh you must have very big penis!” and by selling them trading cards, video games, toys, and little monsters, participate in a rhetoric similar to that of I’tessamudin’s reversals. They are welcomed by the Americans, or in the Wonders parallel, Londoners, who buy his work and allow for the inclusion of an “Other” such as I’tessumudin or the Japanese corporate Chinpokemon trend in their society.

I’tessamudin writes as an anti-hero who engages in what I like to call diplomatic thuggery. To define diplomatic thuggery, we must deconstruct this paradox to examine etymological construct of the latter part of the expression. The “thug” is one who may have had a rough childhood, grew up destitute, knowing only crime and violence, and like the mafia mobster Jimmy Hoffa, acts in accordance with his barrio or community or union in efforts to improve his local economy, and enforces the union boss’s orders and values by extorting the locals; they send a thug to beat up the subject and collect the money. We may liken this behavior to the comically depicted portrayals of the Japanese in “South Park”, and in I’tessamudin’s own mission, in which his transcendance of multiple identities (tax collector, scholar, translator, Tahsildar and Munshi) and contestation of allegiances (serving both the Mughal Emperor and the British Crown) leads to his unique publication and hybrid complexity. I’tessamudin wrote his memoir because he knew it would sell, and he was going to be famous from the readership already fascinated by his “exoticness” and presence in Britain, and so he publishes and does so, with a certain respect for the West. Imagine the Orientalist readership and how pleased they will be in reading within the lines of his memoir the embellishments of white race, praises of European industry and riches, and sympathetic remembrances of his dear companions, “Mr. Strachey, who had lent me generous support in my career, suddenly died. I was utterly bereft at the loss of this kind man and for a month I wore a tearful countenance; even now when I remember him I am overcome with sorrow,” (17). Is this not an achievement of interiority for a character that, in modern times, we are quick to point our “scholarly” fingers to vindicate his participation in British culture (how dare he sit with them) and be upset that he had the gall to be the embodiment of counter-hegemonic, mixed-race, multi-dimensionalism. It is the diplomatic thug who will protect us from the anti-creative and anti-intellectual demands of white-supremacy, Imperialism, and hegemonic expression which continues to overshadow the ongoing constructs of global perceptions.

Europeans,the most powerful race on earth!!

In The Wonders of Vilayet, Mirza Sheikh I’tesamuddin starts explaining how the difference of the on survivor skills between the East and the West. When we start talking about power , we can approach this subject in a lot of different ways. For example; physically strongest race, sports, or color. In this case, we are focusing on skills and knowledge. I’tesamuddin states that “Europeans endeavor continuously to increase their competency”(34). Europeans are already good at navigation, and they try to keep on improving this skills and therefore they increase their knowledge on the subject. They have quickly figured that knowledge and practice increased the quality of life.To be able to transmit this new information, every time this new skills are more simplified and systematized. He explains how all this knowledge can bring people to declare themselves as “the most powerful race on earth”(34). By this, I think he means that will all this power and knowledge and advance tools give them the advantage of power over everyone.  Economic advantage positioned Europe as the first financial power in the world during the post-Napoleonic era. Having a well structure skill and knowledge advantage provides Europe with the economic advantage and the power of bribe and bargain. 

The Diplomatic Thug: Can This Be Possible?

4. Why would I’tessamudin write a memoir of his travels if his diplomatic mission in England ended in failure?

The memoir of I’tessamudin’s travels exists because it really happened, despite the failure of the diplomatic mission in England. It is an historical account of “the first Indian to visit Britain and write about it,” (8). This brings me to decontextualize the question and re-ask, should I’tessamudin’s memoir represent an allegiance to his mother country, or rather, do the work of restoring humanity and relations between these countries? I’tessamudin sees the might and wealth of European industry, and wants his country to also pursue such a development. India too deserves the same scientific, technological, and economic developments as the West, and in writing this autoethnography, he inspires such equality.

I’tessamudin writes the memoir as an anti-hero who engages in diplomatic thuggery. The mafia mobster- one who acts in accordance with his barrio or community in efforts to improve the local economy- is analogous to the character of I’tessamudin. When the mafia needs to enforce their values, they send a thug to beat up the subject, collect the money, and take care of business. We may liken this behavior to I’tessamudin’s own mission, in which he has chosen/been given multiple identities (tax collector, scholar, translator, Tahsildar and Munshi) and allegiances by serving both the Mughal Emperor and the British Crown, and then proceeds to publish his memoir, The Wonders of Vilayet. I’tessamudin wrote his memoir because he knew it would sell, and he was going to be famous from a readership already fascinated by his “exotic” presence in Britain, and so he publishes and does so with a respect for the West. Imagine the Orientalist readers and how pleased they will be in reading within his memoir the lines that embellish European race, praise European industry as being the greatest, and then cherishes his white companions, “Mr. Strachey, who had lent me generous support in my career, suddenly died. I was utterly bereft at the loss of this kind man and for a month I wore a tearful countenance; even now when I remember him I am overcome with sorrow,” (17). Is this not an achievement of interiority for a character that, in modern times, we are quick to point our “scholarly” fingers to vindicate his participation in Orientalist discourse? Admittedly, I have hit a brick wall and stumbled upon my own, unfortunate construct of Orientalism while reading The Wonders of Vileyet.

At this point I will allude to the scene in which our narrator, I’tessamuddin eats with Mr.Sargeant. This indicates a distortion of I’tessamuddin’s own interiority. I have already identified the significance of the inner-voice that represents I’tessamuddin’s historical and personal account. However, the notion of interiority becomes troubled as we take note of I’tessamuddin’s conflicted celebrations of European culture, yet refusal to eat the same meal. The ascetic faith that separates the Indian from Mr. Sargeant illustrates, “Mr. Sargeant knew that Muslims do not eat meat that has not been ritually sacrificed, so he brought three partridges to me and asked me to sacrifice them,” (133). The Vilayeti influence begins to turn I’tessamuddin inside-out. This is a problem for reversing the gaze because we can no longer trust our narrator to be acting either in allegiance to his Sunni faith nor to his European associates. We may qualify this double-voiced narrator as a device for exploring the notion of a diplomatic thug; although he is employed as a Munshi, there is an element of thuggery in his narrations that the scholarly reader must consider with skepticism.

Booker T. Washington- a figure in American history who was accused of being an “Uncle Tom,” a well-paid, black man who sits at the same table with post-Civil War racists- is a parallel figure who spoke in terms of compassion to his white oppressors; he claimed that oppression is not the white man’s fault, for he is also a victim of racial institutions. I’tessamudin extends this courtesy to his white companions to the point where he sheds a tear at the loss of one. He is a diplomat, and he shows this skill in his choosing to embellish European society. Where this diplomacy faces the oxymoron of elevating into thuggery is when the modern-reader by affect accuses I’tessamudin of importing the omnipotent, life-force-entity called Orientalism as the reason that explains why he depreciates his own homeland. The problem with such a reader-response is that the words of hundreds-of-years-ago shouldn’t be enforcing the outlet for anger, racial accusations, or categorical bias as the lens for which we interpret the text. The Orientalism-as-God argument is flawed because it disregards the actual circumstance of the author and ignores the colonial impositions that dominated the author’s homeland in the subsequent centuries. As scholars we must depart from this diplomatic thuggery and acknowledge that the reversal-of-the-gaze does not signify a participation in the Orientalist subjugations, but rather, an opportunity to restore the humanity of our characters. Last time I checked, our universities and their scholarly discourse serve to spread knowledge for preventing- not endorsing- the empowerment of elitism and academic reconstructions for sociopolitical propaganda. There’s no hitmen outside the classroom waiting to shake us down and scare us into saying or writing or repeating the ideas of the Mafia; so why are we so quick to shakedown our texts by transforming the narrative into one in which the character is “an Orientalist,” are we, the readers, the Mafia hitmen who conspire and question against I’tessamuddin for writing a memoir even if his diplomatic mission in England ended in failure?

Telescoping Artist into Audience: a Pilgrimage for the Dead

The literature covered thus far involves a blurring of the diegetic world that confounds the writer with her/his readership due to sociological restrictions and political manifestations that dominate the contexts from which each writer speaks. In #PittsandOrientalism, Pitts’ reader- an imagined, British merchant or conqueror, is affected by the listing of material life; food, language, & customs are transcribed by the author, for the audience. Pitts continues his account, as we read in #TurningTurk, and transcends from observer to participant as the “dileels” took “us” to the Mecca pilgrimage. Note that our present-day reader is disappointed by Pitts’ discrimination and Orientalism, and yet, intrigued by his self-determined transformation into Turk; this signifies our own insertion of present day issues of classism, sexism, etc. into the same narrative that existed in these writers’ ontological re-contextualizations of a foreign society.

Let us compare the #OttomanMuslimWomen & #FemaleReproduction notions of Lady Mary Montagu’s Turkish Embassy Letters in which the author interprets her surroundings while wearing the lens of British subjugation. She foreshadows a Hellenistic ideal in her embellishment of Latin inscriptions; she expresses a longing for a European painter to capture the scenes that occur in this exotic expedition. The post on #GreekHellenism likens Lady Mary to a Lord Byron in that both authors signify the glory of ancient Greece. In response to the student post entitled, “Symbiosis: Trading Children for a Life of Ease,” an attack against the student was not only made to describe a misinformed reader, but also a solution to the problem of the discriminatory author was found. Present-day readership resonates a contempt for the derogatory descriptions by Lady Mary about the dress of the women, about the languidity of the Turks, and this becomes romanticized in Lord Byron’s love-triangle poem. Our class accepted the notion of the characters signifying a Hellenistic poetry in which  Hassan, Leila, and The Giaour each represent the Ottoman empire, ancient Greece, and European civilization, respectively. The reader himself becomes part of this style of poetry, and this is where I coined the term, “love parallelogram” to signify a geometric representation of audience participation. The rhombus is a form of parallelogram indicating a multidimensionality evident in “The Giaour” through the multi-narrators; this ultimately invites the reader to formulate a critical understanding of the story’s conflict. A misinformed reader is thus likely to telescope the author’s narrative into a relevant affair. This brings the love triangle to a new dimension: and thus we are involved with the triangle, despite our detachment as readers who exist hundreds of years into the future. We now have power as readers who are responsible for the outcomes of our very interpretations of Orientalism, but how can we trust ourselves to fairly envision these works of literature when our own context is one plagued by systemic exploitation, sexism and elitism?

Symbiosis: Trading Children for a Life of Ease

Lady Montagu deeply envies the Turkish women she encounters for two reasons. First, she covets the Turkish women’s ability, through the guise of their Turkish habits, to masquerade in public, free from the constraint of knowing eyes and able to satiate every sexual craving and sensibility with very little fear of retribution from their husbands. Secondly, she aspires to participate in a culture that ostensibly allows women to spend their time without worry for want or care, as long as they continuously produce offspring, “their whole time being spent in visiting, bathing or the agreeable amusement of spending money and inventing new fashions” (172). She venerates the ease with which these wealthy women languish and are able to enjoy the bright and mysterious Turkish landscape and society without the same dread of impropriety which prevails so in courtly London. To Lady Mary, getting married and having children seems a small price to pay for the legal and subsequently financial empowerment that comes with being a Turkish woman of quality. Here, I would argue that this exchanging of intercourse and child bearing for power is a glorified form of prostitution. Though in a world where women have little if no hope for autonomy, it seems a relatively advantageous business transaction. With every child, women are able to gain in authority over the men and satisfy their own maternal instinct simultaneously, while at the same time forever falling short of any feminist ideal by submitting to patriarchal notions of gender roles.