Sansay's Secret History

I really enjoyed reading Leonora Sansay’s Secret History; or, The Horrors of St. Domingo because it allowed me to develop some of the “transnational methodologies” that Sandra Gustafson describes in “Histories of Democracy and Empire.” Gustafson argues that in order for early-Americanists to adopt a transnational model, which “replace[s] nationalist history…[they] need a form of historical criticism capable of presenting the complex circumstances of colonization and national emergence rather than the generalized history of the national narrative” (109). I embrace the move towards a more nuanced study of historical contact zones in the Americas, in order to better understand linkages that connect the past with the present, and future (in American Literature). Using Gustafson’s proposed practice, I dig deeper into Sansay’s exoticism of the creole women (a move often understood as nationalist) and explore Elizabeth Dillon’s argument that Sansay is also identifying herself as part of the creole community she describes (88). To do this I employ Walter Mignolo’s discussion of the meaning of creole.

In The Idea of Latin America Mignolo explains that in the colonial Americas, especially in their Caribbean islands creole was not only an identity tied to birth place, but also racial and ethnic affiliation. Thus, there were creoles of Afro-descent, creoles of European descent, and creoles of Indian descent (Mignolo 63,73). Even though Sansay never uses her “secret history” to declare that creoles are only of European descent, she does not refer to other groups, such as people of African heritage born in Saint Domingue (or the “New World”) as creoles. She instead, as Dillon explains, utilizes Mary’s character to dedicate a great deal of her epistolary narrative describing the behaviors and occurrences of women she identifies as creole. For example, Mary’s letter narrating her experience about being on the same vessel as a group of Creole women demonstrates how Mary envisions the creole women as a culture of their own. She writes,

There’s something inconceivably interesting in these ladies. Young, beautiful, and destitute of all resource, supporting with cheerfulness their wayward fortune. But the most captivating trait in their character is their fondness for their children! The Creole ladies, marrying very young appear more like the sisters than the mothers of their daughters. Unfortunately they grow up too soon, and not frequently become the rivals of their mothers. (Sansay 110)

Here, like in many other passages, Sansay hyper-sexualizes Creole women by speaking about their marriages and childbirth at a young age. In addition, she characterizes them as sensitive and motherly oriented, and gives them what could be understood as an Oedipus complex. However, as Dillon also points out, Sansay draws a clear division between the European and creole women by distinguishing the ways in which they both use or dispose of their available “resources.” Hence, hinting at Sansay’s potential identification as creole.

Like Dillon, I see how the use of resources would allow Sansay to potentially identify as creole, but I would add that this is also possible because of the way she blurs the lines for the creole identity, and utilizes Mary’s and Clara’s characters to display what Mignolo identifies as the “White/Creole…double consciousness” (63).  Sansay, displays double consciousness or “consciousness of not being who [she is] supposed to be (Europeans)” and having to validate herself as a woman of the New World (Mignolo 63) by demonstrating two ways of thinking and seeing the condition of the creole woman. For example, through Mary’s description, Sansay sees the creole woman as less-structured than the European woman, but much more sensitive and careful of her surroundings.