The chapter examines Walt Whitman’s and Frances Harper’s engagements with vernacular forms, especially ballad stanza and dialect verse, in their Reconstruction-era poetry. For both poets, using such forms marked a departure from usual practice. Whitman turned to the familiar ballad form in moments of national uncertainty, particularly addressing the president’s assassination and issues of race during Reconstruction. The ballad’s conventional racialization of voice, however, represented a challenge for Harper. Before the war, Harper worked primarily in the elevated register of standard written English. Her Aunt Chloe poems, originating in her tour of the south during Reconstruction, mark an important divergence from her earlier work and an important intervention into the ballad tradition. Here she brought a new vernacular voice to an old vernacular form.

This brief essay addresses this volume’s multiple audiences – including undergraduate and graduate students; instructors who want to incorporate a new unit on Reconstruction into a colonial and US literature survey course or to teach a class on the subject; and scholars of American literature who might or might not work in the second half of the nineteenth century – who would benefit from a basic map to the significant changes now in progress in Reconstruction studies and strategies for teaching them. Within the past decade in particular, renewed and transformative interest in Reconstruction has moved to the forefront of the fields of US history and nineteenth-century US literary history. While the Reconstruction period has long been a staple in the field of US history (however troubled that narrative might have been, a topic to which I will turn shortly), that has notably not been the case in the field of literary studies. As Gordon Hutner points out in his introduction to the 2018 special issue of the flagship field journal American Literary History entitled “Reenvisioning Reconstruction,” Reconstruction has been “among the subjects least touched” by scholars otherwise energetically focused on revising field assumptions and canons. Scholarship to remedy this stark neglect and debates about how to do so have recently risen to the top of the disciplinary agenda. As Hutner puts it, “A nucleus of scholars has been revisiting the period and committing a great deal of industry and intelligence toward uncovering its critical exigencies in ways that previous generations of Americanists had missed.”1

The essay focuses on the uses and significance of the trope of passing, as both theme and literary strategy, in African American fiction from the 19th to the 21st century. Passing as a theme pushed the boundaries of arbitrary, but operative, racial dichotomies, while passing as a literary strategy enabled radical experimentation with novelistic conventions. African American writers revised the tragic mulatta and mulatto characters by articulating a black-centered racial imaginary that infused the trope of passing with profound political and literary relevance. Deploying the high visibility of all-but-white characters as a screen to introduce new figures in American literature, they advanced a far from monolithic understanding of blackness that foregrounded its intraracial diversification and intersection with gender and class. African American writers adopted the trope of passing in order to expose the sociopolitical construction of “race,” unsettle prevailing racial epistemologies of blackness, popularize a more complex racial imaginary, and teach self-consciously critical modes of reading literature and, by extension, reality. Through a diachronic approach, the essay shows how the trope of passing was repurposed in different literary-historical periods and how it retains its relevance as a malleable literary strategy of cultural and political intervention.

Matt Sandler argues that not only did African American poets write “in Romantic revolutionary moods” at mid-century, but they used the lyric, in particular, to bridge divisions within and between the abolition movement and enslaved and free people. For writers like Joshua McCarter Simpson, James Monroe Whitfield, Frances Harper, and George Moses Horton, the lyric’s amenity to both contemplation and public performance was generically useful for the deliberations on and challenges to liberal individualism they posed. These African American poets complicated the lyric’s mechanics and capacities in ways that turned its interior deliberations to revolutionary aims and “claims about the place of Black life in American history.” Overall, Sandler underscores, lyric poetry, perhaps more than any other genre, “moved across the oral/print binary” and likewise moved across the color line as well as among abolitionist, free status, fugitive, and enslaved communities and groups to facilitate coalitions. Provocatively, this made the lyric what Sandler calls “the medium of the conspiracy.”