On Prose Strategies of Equiano and Boswell

O.K. Mantz

What remains most important, whether subjective or objective, is the truth. Both Boswell and Equiano attempt to establish the truth of their narratives, both in different ways and for contrasting ends. Equiano pens his autobiography to center around the conditions of slavery (specifically pointing out the mistreatment of slaves in the traffic) to fulfill his political purpose of altering the public opinion that generally approved of the slave trade. Boswell, in his Life of Johnson, intends to present a more accurate account of Samuel Johnson than other contemporary biographers. His objective is to portray Johnson in all his weaknesses, shortcomings, strengths, and genius and thus paint an accurate portrait of who he really was. To both writers, location played a key role in developing their respective arguments; no comparison is drawn between the two, however: a thorough analysis of the techniques of persuasion each author utilizes is the abstract of the paper beginning with Boswell.

Boswell’s biography of Samuel Johnson proved a revolutionary literary success because of the novel technique he applied. His focus remained not on Johnson’s works and general facts (although both were included) such as was the focus of contemporary biographers shortly after Johnson’s death, but he fervently pointed out his personality, mannerisms, and opinions during his life. Having spent a significant portion of his time together with the renowned literary figure, Boswell avidly wrote down Johnson’s words with a duty bordering on obsession, as Johnson himself pointed out by mentioning that he “[has] but two topicks, [him]self and me. I am sick of both” (216). He remains quick to highlight defects or imperfections in both Johnson’s appearance, mannerisms, and argumentation. Both he and Johnson often disagreed on certain matters such as religion: in one instance, Boswell inquired as to whether Johnson was an enemy of the Catholic religion, to which Johnson replied: “no more … than to the Presbyterian religion” (148). However, Boswell also frequently detailed Johnson’s strengths such as his memory (38) and “overall superiority” (41) in terms of general knowledge, knowledge of literature, and writing. Thrusting Johnson not in a purely heroic light, but identifying his shortcomings alongside his success, Boswell creates a more believable, well-rounded, and human character. When pointing out both flaws and great strengths, Boswell directly emphasizes where he received the source of information from and that he did not omit any instances. The source of information he accrued from a plethora of people, such as Johnson’s friends, family, acquaintances, as well as including various pieces of correspondence, Johnson’s books, articles, and personal experiences with him. Through explicitly utilizing such anecdotes, Boswell projects an arguably truer account of Johnson’s life than other biographers in his time.

Following Johnson to various places, Boswell often provoked conversation on an array of topics and people. Moving to physical locations such as the Mitre-tavern, the “temple stairs,” and traveling by boat through the river demonstrates both a physical and intellectual journey for the two. When Boswell speaks of Johnson within his home, Johnson is more concerned with his own work and life as he is talking of personal matters and in the process of writing the Dictionary (96, 98). However, when they leave the “chambers” and move around town, the focus shifts from Johnson to Johnson’s perspective on other people and topics. Through the interaction between Johnson and his respective homes, Boswell demonstrates that Fleet Street was a place of business and professionalism, the Inner Temple Lane the opposite (when Boswell first meets Johnson here, he describes him as brutish and uncouth), and Johnson’s Court, which proves a romantic dwelling place where Mrs. Williams lives and where he lives with his wife. Johnson often walks around the town (even at two in the morning (98)) and seems to ask for conversations even at his own home as though he is in desperate need of company. Johnson’s constant physical movement parallels with his intellectual movement because he cannot stay in one place and always seeks conversation. The locations and people they meet along the way also paint the narrative as more realistic and historical, rather than simply a dull list of occurrences. Along with the locations, Boswell telescopes his and Johnson’s conversations to place similar topics under the same time frame. Boswell often asks difficult questions on religion, culture, and other contemporary figures, but grouping similar discussions more clearly demonstrates a consistent character of Johnson and to project his character successfully and believably to the public.

In writing The Interesting Narrative, Olaudah Equiano sought out to alter public opinion and project himself as believable as he was greatly concerned with the slave trade in Britain. His main purpose proved to “excite…a sense of compassion for the miseries which the Slave-Trade has entailed on [his] unfortunate countrymen” and the work succeeded by offering a vivid autobiography depicting the horrors of the slave trade (7). Equiano attempts to persuade his audience that his account remains a work of truth by repeatedly mentioning his humility that he is no significant figure and that he does not intend for literary reputation or fame as a result of his autobiography. He also expounds upon his many “friends” before the work begins in the form of a list of subscribers and letters to them to remind the reader of the significant people supporting Equiano and his cause. In terms of content, Equiano describes the humanity of the people in Guinea, that food is “usually cooked in a pan,” they use spices such as pepper, and they “always wash [their] hands” (35). The people are strongly compared to Jews on their quest to discover the Land of Promise and the patriarchs in their pastoral state as described in Genesis. However, strongest of these comparisons is the one likened to the Englishmen, where Equiano reminds the European that “his ancestors were once, like the Africans, uncivilized, and even barbarous,” rhetorically asking whether they should be enslaved to which he answers “no” (45). Through depicting different people demonstrating various degrees of hospitality to Equiano and other slaves, he reiterates his point that he is not attempting to abolish slavery, but only the slave trade. He willingly works aboard a ship because the merchant promised free passage and “shewed a great deal of hospitality and friendship” (157). However, he also mentions that the slave traffic “spreads like a pestilence...violates that first natural right of mankind, equality and independence, and gives one man a dominion over his fellows which God could never intend” (111). With his audience and social context in mind, he criticizes the cruel aspects of the slave trade, but supports slavery (under the umbrella of kindness).

Literature in the eighteenth-century focused mainly on theology and travel. The Interesting Narrative, in some ways, is a providential narrative in which Equiano moves from slavery to freedom, from “pagan” to Christian, all the while forming his character throughout his life. Equiano also praises England by further demonstrating his spiritual journey: he praises God when thinking of England and bids farewell to “angry howling dashing surfs” as well as other “oppressions” and uncivilized or barbarian modes of living. In short, the narrative connects the places he visits with his spiritual journey. Following the moral and psychological growth of Equiano, the narrative becomes a Bildungsroman marking the growth of his person. Catering the style of his narrative to the audience of the eighteenth century gives Equiano more voracity through the evident growth, excessive details such as various foods eaten by locals, items found in a market, modes of hunting, gathering, clothing, and the like. His memory of these details seems extraordinary, but Equiano explicitly defines that which he can or cannot remember: when describing currency, for example, he mentions that money is of little use, although coins do exist, yet he does not “remember either their value or denomination” (37). Admitting to his shortcomings provides the understanding that wherever the author does not explicate his lack of memory, the accounts are to be believed and accurate. Contrary to London, Montserrat proves a place that Equiano keeps returning to not for the purpose of demonstrating his character development, but for political ends. He becomes witness to various cruelties toward other men and calls them brethren and “unhappy fellow slaves” (104). By elucidating the horrendous acts of white masters toward slaves and announcing that the slaves are his peers, he elevates the status of the slave to a knowledgeable person (and most importantly human and similar to the people in England in most manners). This has the effect of procuring empathy towards the slaves and casting them in a more humane light.

By creating convincingly authentic protagonists and emphasizing their humanity, the authors cater to the specific tastes of eighteenth-century readers and craft a careful narrative that demonstrates the personal dispositions of each character. Boswell writes his biography of Johnson to clearly and honestly demonstrate Johnson’s temperament, both as an avid reader and writer, but also as a melancholic and troubled mind. On the other hand, Equiano portrays himself in his autobiography not as a bold hero, but as a humble man traveling through the slave trade. His end is not an honest depiction of himself, but a political attempt to stop the slave trade (but note, not to stop slavery). Both writers elucidate their voracity by humbly admitting their faults and lack of memory and utilizing locations as a means to project ideas and construct a better view of their characters. And the writers have achieved their respective ends with relative success. Yet both The Life of Johnson and The Interesting Narratives have come under scrutiny and the honesty and integrity of both authors is doubted. This begs the question: can people ever be truly honest with themselves and with others? Can writers ever accurately paint the whole picture of a person? Or is man much too complex to be condensed merely into words?