Tag Archive: Ego


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.

There are contradictions in how our class was affected by the works of Indian writers Sake Dean and I’tessamudin. These contradictions manifest by self-collapsing arguments, are constructed by bias in unconscious word-choice, & from over-reducing the complexity of identity within characters such as female prostitutes, religious scholars, and the Indians who are participating in European Imperialism. The first instance where my peers failed to note unspoken criticisms underlying Lady Mary’s performative acts of cultural transvestism involve an obsession with her descriptions of the female body, rather than implorations into form. Why did we fail to note the issues of classism in Lady Mary? The answer is due to our post-modern tendency to romanticize our fictional heroes, but Lady Mary is not a fictional character, in fact, she published post-humously, but her notes about daily life are almost ignored as we talk about the sex, and not her hybridity of positions, as a European aristocrat who is sneaking through the streets, as a woman, and how this content intersects. We see the surface of a bath house scene, wonder if Lady Mary is a lesbian, and then, approach her with the sensibility of a writer of erotic fiction, when the opposite is occurring, she is discovering a new world, expressing a counter-hegemonic feminine voice, and yet, because of her daily life, she is in contestation of her own liminal zone by slipping into derogatory rhetoric. Our class was affected by subjective vilifications of her diegetic existence, and by ignoring her double-voicedness as having agency as not only an upper-class member, but also an outsider, we relegated discourse on classism/feminism to the background of our minds, allowing for a conversation about her moral integrity. This affect is problematic because it perpetuates unconscious practices in Imperialism which de-signify classisms and elitisms in order to enthrall ourselves with the life, and not work, of a character largely reconstructed by our own idealogy.

Hypocrisy in our interpretation of Middle Eastern texts presents further problems. We are Giaours, upset that Hasan has raped our post-modern values (of monogamy), and eager to slay his infidel nature as consequence of our own, scholarly demands for a hybrid-space which apologizes for Imperialism yet simultaneously, satiates our Western ideas about Romantic conflicts regarding sinful, cheating Indians. We use words to reconstruct the narratives of Sake Dean Mohamet and I’tessamuddin such as, “allegiance,” but in doing so, upset the multiple dimensions that exist in order to identify these writer’s allegiances and loyalties. Do they owe allegiance to their motherland? Are they cowards for aligning with the Europeans? Even my implorations into this oversimplification use reductionist words such as “align” to misunderstand both the economic values and the sociopolitical roles encouraged in the lives of these Indian writers. Our class repeatedly attempted to re-contextualize historical figures in the search for post-colonial critique. Isn’t this the same behavior that is criticized by theoretical, post-colonialists? When I’tessamuddin’s home is located down the street from a lucrative military base, then there is a unique cultural heritage that must be noted in which his identity may upset our current racial and gender norms. Sure, he disobeyed his mother, but he also tapped into the riches of Europe, so we must be vigilant in contesting our own criticisms about “allegiance” which dismiss essences of différance existing between the 18th century projected-hybridities and an unconscious state of authoritarianism.

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. 

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?

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?

The revolutionary aspect of this work is evident in Lord Byron’s use of the anti-hero, the Giaour, and as he rides out to contest Hassan’s murderous crime against Leila, the reader is presented in lines 180-287 of Lord Byron’s “The Giaour” with an unnamed narrator.

Provided that the narrator is Muslim in this fragment, the narrator says, “I loathe thy race,” (ln 191) in reference to the Venetian Giaour who is caught, in the midst of an action of his riding out, with “[no] weary waves,” (ln 187) in his heart.

If we take the love triangle between the Giaour, Hassan, and Leila to represent the Hellenic ideal, then we are immediately imbued with a sense of Orientalism in which the Ottoman is pursued in retribution for his crimes against the poetic grace of classical Greece, symbolized by Leila. Lord Byron reconstructs Orientalism under a romantic eye by playing with themes of sexuality and then illustrating such exchanges with various, fragmented narrators.

The love triangle becomes a love parallelogram upon the reader receiving a fourth character- the Muslim speaker of lines 180-287. It is here that the contestation of the contest between Hassan and Giaour occurs- as an exchange of ideals culminated by the tensions of European/Oriental binary. We are thus presented with a revolutionary Lord Byron who cleverly subverts a dimension of Orientalism by imparting in the Muslim narrator a necessary statement of “loathing” against the Venetian rider. The narrator is merely present, working the land, when the Giaour, in his notorious affair, speeds by, on his way to kill Hassan. The narrator then proceeds to ask if Ottoman posterity, or “Othman’s son’s should slay or shun,” (ln 199) the Giaour. This telescopes to a readership that may or may not be willing to respond to the Giaour’s violence against our slain father’s past- or in the case of a British readership, the revival of Greek Hellenism in the European Renaissance indicates a posterity already involved with the contestation of the incident between the Giaour and Hassan, and alternatively, between European imperialists and those subjugated under political, economic, and artistic propaganda. The muslim narrator continues characterizing the Giaour after slaying the Ottoman; we are told the Venetian is arrogant and superior in countenance, “The crag is won- no more is seen/ His Christian crest and haughty mien,” (ln 255-256).

Where Lord Byron himself is recreating an Hellenic interpretation of the Venetian conquest over a sinful Ottoman lover, there is a deconstruction of the present, romantic conflicts made obvious with the poem’s use of a fragmented, unnamed narrator- one who is present in the action, watching the Giaour come “thundering” and drawing “My gaze of wonder as he flew,” (201). The contestation of the romantic affair occurs with the narrator’s own contemptuous description of the Venetian, his crude characterizations, and the displaced point-of-view that allows a voyeuristic reconstruction of Hellenism. This necessitates a departure from the traditional, Orientalist reconstruction in which the Venetian is strong and just in his conquest, while the Ottoman is envious and deserves to be slaughtered.

The metonymy of a love triangle for the implication of Venetian/Ottoman conflict serves to ultimately transcend the hero of Lord Byron’s poetry. An anti-hero is thus born in the Giaour, one who is loathed by his own narrator, and yet, who instills the value of contestation as a trope of Byron’s Greek Hellenism- a feat that makes this poem stand out in an era of modern-day “Enlightenment” against tyranny. This trope survives as a distinguishing feature in revolutionary literature including the African-American traditions of W.E.B. DuBois and Booker T. Washington in which contestations against racism are described, and furthermore, those contestations are contested by each other in searing criticisms of the other’s ideals and political, social, and economic affairs. Washington contests Reconstruction policy, ironically, in favor of segregation, and tells his readers that newly-freed slaves must not seek political refuge, but rather, should depart from traditional systems, and yet, in opposition, DuBois criticizes his contemporary in a contestation for freedom. The reader is forced to think for himself/herself as leaders, whole schools-of-thought, and political movements such as neoclassicism, Orientalism, and Hellenism are questioned, and sometimes even “loathed” by the unnamed narrators created in Lord Byron’s poetry.

Strangers in a Strange Land

In the preface to his “True and Faithful Account,” Joseph Pitts addresses the question of why he eventually wrote a book about his travels in the Orient. He did so, he asserts, because his friends begged him to. If Pitts is to be believed, his narrative is the product of altruism; he wrote simply because he wished to be a good friend. An examination of Pitts’ psychology as well as an understanding of his biography reveal his motives for writing to be rather more complicated. Indeed, by penning a “True and Faithful” account of his adventures, Pitts hoped to establish himself as both a loyal Englishman and a true Christian, both identities which were suspect as a result of his conversion to Islam and prolonged habitation in the East. In re-reading the blogs and the works of Pitts, as well as that of Lady Mary Wortley Montague, and Lord Byron, I am struck primarily by the issue of authorial representation and how it relates to orientalism.

By authorial representation, I mean how the author choses to represent himself (or herself) in his respective work. The nature of the autobiographical genre is subjective. The process is predicated on the conscious or unconscious act of constructing a perception. Although the form of their narratives differ, Pitts Lady Mary, and Byron are each individuals who are uniquely concerned with how their respective books, letters, and poems will shape what people think about them. The are each unabashed egoists who embed their personality in their prose. It is fitting that we are unable to disassociate the story of the Giaour from the story of Byron. If most authors seek self-effacement in their work, if true artistic creation involves, as T.S. Elliot says it does “a continual self sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality” then Byron fails miserably, as do Pitts and Lady Mary. Thus, perceptions of the Orient are filtered through the medium of authorial agenda. The Orient is handmaiden to the construction of identity. This is a particular kind of othering that transcends the East-West binary, as well as hegemony.