James Sweet’s Domingos Alvares is a fascinating book
that makes a significant historiographical contribution. His argument that
Alvares’s healing was a way to contest the “European imperial power” (6). It
had never really considered how it is that so many of the African voices find
their way into our historical documents, but Sweet makes a great point that the
majority of them find their way into the documentation through adopting “European”
culture, modes of thought, or its imperial project—or, playing the European
game. Sweet shows how Domingos—and many others like him who have avoided
detection—contested that game through holding onto their own cultural outlook
and practices while adapting them to their new environment. This approach is
different than just showing how slaves expressed their own agency, but also
shows how they maintained separate intellectual world from their oppressors.
Some of the method Sweet employed, however, discomforted me.
I understand he had a dearth of sources for the early stages of Domingos life,
but there were times when I thought his conclusions less than supported even
taking into account Sweet’s use of terms like perhaps and possibly. In
particular, I found Sweet’s discussion of Domingo’s adoption of Christianity or
parts of Christianity less than convincing. Domingos becomes a generalization
himself as his mentality and approaches is surmised from Vodun theology
(47-50). His polytheistic religion, for instance, made him open to new beliefs
(48). The hierarchy of belief in Catholicism also would have appealed to
Domingos, Sweet tells us, because it was similar to the Vodun hierarchy, and
Domingos probably viewed his priest as a peer because he too held esoteric
knowledge of his faith (49). And Domingos likely “recognized and respected” his
new name (while maintaining his old one) because it was a badge of honor (50).
Certainly, all of these are possible, but they are based on generalizations of
the Vodun religion and how it found expression in its adherents in theory. In
this way, Domingos becomes a sort of caricature of the Vodun healer interacting
with Christianity, the outcomes of which are logically surmised. Put another
way, the basis of Vodun beliefs are theorized on how they would interact
with Christian practice. But what we do know about religions is that
they are never just a set of beliefs but also infused with cultural
inclinations, practices, and world views that are both temporally and
terrestrially dependent.
Preceding
the discussion on Christianity, Sweet directs the reader to works by Thornton
and himself on Catholicism's influence on slaves from Kongo and Angola in an endnote, but
he never uses specific examples from those works that would substantiate his “perhaps”
claims better. In other words, establishing his assumptions in other empirical
practices rather than logical surmise.
Another
example is the walk in Rio de Janeiro that Domingos takes, for which Sweet even
provided a map. After multiple readings (text and notes), I remain unsure if it
was a real walk or a hypothetical one used simply to describe the area in which
Domingos lived (81-88). Many of the citations focus specifically on things
Domingos might have seen, but not concretely that such a walk existed. Perhaps,
I’m overlooking something, but if the walk never took place, I do not think
this is the most judicious way to discuss the environment in which Domingos
lived.
To be clear, I’m not uncomfortable with
his use of perhaps and likely or probably, but the justifications for it. I do
understand why he does it, especially in the earlier parts of the books (of which
Sweet forewarns the reader). Indeed, Sweet’s evidentiary basis becomes much
stronger has the book goes on. I would
characterize my thoughts on his approach in these earlier chapters as
uncomfortably accepting. These criticisms aside, I found Sweet’s book to be
fascinating and important especially due to the significance of its overall
argument.
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