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Introduction

Nothing that God ever made is the same thing to more than one person. That is natural. There is no single face in nature, because every eye that looks upon it, sees it from its own angle. So every man’s spice-box seasons his own food.

Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

In her seminal slave narrative Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl (1861) Harriet Jacobs makes a powerful statement that is shared by Hannah Crafts’s The Bondwoman’s Narrative (1857), Zora Neale Hurston’s Moses, Man of the Mountain (1939) and Toni Morrison’s A Mercy (2008), the three novels here. By claiming that “(t)here is a great difference between Christianity and religion” (83), Jacobs voices the stark reality that black slaves encountered when they were faced with the sociocultural reality of the New World. In their ontological struggle for survival, African Americans found the necessity to distinguish their sense of spirituality from the religious doctrines that legalized the lives of American citizens. However, black women had to fight harder to recompose their sense of spirituality given their double discrimination in a nation that relegated them out of any possible circle of social redemption.

In this light, Crafts’s, Hurston’s and Morrison’s texts connect the sacredness that has played a pivotal part in the appraisal of the subjectivity of African American women ever since they first set foot in the United States with the aesthetic modes of representation that black women created through their genuine use of religion. The reconfiguration of the Biblical Christian message has come to be culturally ingrained into the collective African American psyche and it has aptly been reinterpreted by black women.

Religion and the idiosyncrasy of the United States have an interrelated relationship that has come to configure the patriotic ethos of the nation. The teachings of the Puritans in the seventeenth century built the pillars of the nascent community and opened the way to material as well as spiritual prosperity. The Puritan creed turned out to be the framework of an ongoing historical enterprise that has outlived four centuries. The character of the young nation revealed a spiritual base that helped rewrite history and erect an American exceptionalism as a defining trait of its national ethos. Briefly put and in Sacvan Bercovitch’s words, at the dawning of the American nationalism “History is invoked to displace historicism” (1977: 5). The result was the contour of what Robert Bellah coined as “civil religion” over the cognizance of the nation or a public religious dimension “expressed in a set of beliefs, symbols, and rituals” that bound the political and cultural life in the United States building upon “the motivating spirit of those who founded America” (2).

Religious discourse and practice stand as a backbone of the American national ideology, and African American women have used its political but also its aesthetic matrix to unfold a black feminine discourse deeply attached to the cultural outlet that the nation offered them. Charles H. Long rightly notes how, when it comes down to religious discourses, “African Americans…fall into an anomalous position” (18). Black Americans merged “a kind of African American civil religion within the confines of Christianity” (Hong 18) along the shakedown of the Black Atlantic. The African slave trade ensured the human and social destruction of black people and the Black Atlantic bestowed African Americans the opportunity to redefine their subjectivity and to cradle their self-definition in the United States. This is so because the Atlantic world introduced black people to “the globalization of the meaning of humanity” (Hong 19). As Hong further explains, the Atlantic “is a world justified by the epistemologies of Kant and Descartes, the English empiricists, and the ethical economies of Adam Smith and Karl Marx. The world of the Atlantic lives under the rhetoric and mark of freedom—a freedom that was supposed to banish the specter of the ancient gods and reveal a new deeper structure of the meaning of human experience” (Hong 20).

Taking this cultural endeavor and its possibilities to offer a new side to the meaning of human experience African American women relied on the spirituality of what has come to be known as black Christianity to foster the creation of a feminist version of spirituality that could invigorate the aesthetics of communal healing in the United States. Black Christianity refers to a certain reading of the Christian message aiming to make it fit to the specific needs of African Americans. In this sense, black Christianity speaks about the distance among professed belief in the Christian Gospel and in the practice of slavery under the oppressive ideology of white supremacy.

The wrenching intimacy between spirituality and self-assertion was a common trope in the spiritual autobiographies penned in the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries by African American women. Works such as Maria Stewart’s Productions of Mrs. Maria W. Stewart (1835), and Meditations from the Pen of Mrs. Maria W. Stewart (1879), Jarena Lee’s The Religious Experiences of Mrs. Jarena Lee (1836, 1849), Zilpha Elaw’s Memoirs of the Life, Religious Experience, Ministerial Travels, and Labors of Mrs. Zilpha Elaw, An American Female of Colour (1846), The Story of Mattie J. Jackson (1866), and Julia Foote’s A Brand Plucked from the Fire (1879), among others, prove black women’s commitment to the creation of a spiritual aesthetics in the composition of a healed black female self. Moreover, Joycelyn Moody positions these writings within the jeremiad tradition of “moral suasion, deep feeling, and a shared sense of social justice”.

The Bondwoman’s Narrative, Moses, Man of the Mountain and A Mercy follow the spiritual endeavor of these autobiographies by constructing a sacred reading of the black female self that aims to uphold a new version of womanhood. Besides, and as the referred spiritual autobiographies belabored, these novels also follow the national continuum of the jeremiad tradition not only to recast the Biblical discourse but to defend the incursion of a rehabilitated black female subjectivity. The rhetoric device of the jeremiad has been used since slavery by African Americans to cast away the pernicious discourses that placed them outside the national imagery of the United States. If slaves had to fulfill the Christian values and therefore could not openly vent their anger or wage a direct attack to the slave system, they found a subtle way to criticize the “peculiar institution”. Slaves galvanized the jeremiad rhetoric to spread their critiques and speak against the system. David Howard-Pitney gives a complete definition of the American jeremiad as “a rhetoric of indignation, expressing deep dissatisfaction and urgently challenging the nation to reform” (5). He goes on explaining that “(t)he term jeremiad, meaning a lamentation or doleful complaint derives from the biblical prophet, Jeremiah, who warned of Israel’s fall and the destruction of the Jerusalem temple by Babylon as punishment for the people’s failure to keep the Mosaic covenant” (5). This is exactly what John Winthrop stated for America in 1630 with his sermon “A Model for Christian Charity” in which he announced to the Puritans that America was an earthly paradise. Likewise, as Sacvan Bercovitch explains, Winthrop also warned that if Puritans fell prey to temptations, “God would surely withdraw their ‘special appointment’, weed them out, pluck them up, and cast them out of His sight” (4). These threats would unrelentingly model the American jeremiad.

The jeremiad offered black people a weapon to fight against a system that had the responsibility to treat them fairly for “Blacks’ mission and destiny was inseparable from America’s own” (Howard-Pitney 24). The jeremiad became the tool of protest for black people and, especially, was adopted by the authors of slave narratives to inform and exhort white Americans about the evils of slavery. Black slaves assumed the jeremiad because, as Wilson Jeremiah Moses clearly points out, “If the bondage of the colonies to England was similar to the enslavement of Israel in Egypt, was not the bondage of blacks in America an even more perfect analogy?” (31). Moreover, “(i)f Americans... were in fact a covenanted people and entrusted with the mission to safeguard the divine and the natural laws of human rights, was there not a danger to covenant in perpetuating slavery?” (31). African Americans adapted their rhetoric to the jeremiad tradition, which was one of the dominant forms in the antebellum America, also for the fact that “(t)heir use of the jeremiad revealed a conception of themselves as a chosen people, but it also showed a clever ability to play on the belief that America...was a chosen nation with a covenantal duty to deal justly with the blacks” (31). Thus, the jeremiad fortified the belief that African Americans had a place in America because if slaves were also a chosen people they should be rewarded by a just God. This was the beginning of the African American jeremiad which established the typology of America’s mission. Since slavery was a perverse violation of the natural and divine law, “the black jeremiad was not simply to provide a verbal outlet for hostilities; it was a means of demonstrating loyalty—both to the principles of egalitarian liberalism and to the Anglo-Christian code of values” (Moses 38). Their own sense of spirituality allowed African Americans to reinterpret and personify the jeremiad convinced that “liberty, equality, and property were not merely civic ideals. They were part of God’s plans” therefore “America, as the home of libertarian principles, was the lasting ‘habitation of justice, and mountain of holiness’... quoting Jeremiah 31” (Bercovitch 111).

The African American jeremiad sprang forth due to the nation’s collective sins. In the African American rhetoric, slavery was considered “the last remaining obstacle to the American millennium; it represented the armies of Babylon threatening the city of God. It symbolized the chariots of Pharaoh soon to be engulfed in the tide of America’s sacred history” (Moses 46). Thus authors of slave narratives used the African American jeremiad with the double aim of asserting themselves as Americans and to demand a fair treatment as inhabitants of the American paradise on earth. As Howard-Pitney sums up, “the African American jeremiad expressed black nationalist faith in the missionary destiny...and was a leading instrument of black social assertion in America” (11). Slave narratives overtly challenged the puritan myth of America as a beacon to the world. They outlined that racism was immoral and through the African American jeremiad they were able to “confront the conflict between America’s democratic promise and white America’s undeniable racism” (Howard-Pitney 24). Stemming from the slave narratives onwards, the African American jeremiad evolved into a perfect outlet to both criticize and take part of the American society with the sheer confidence to bring down its moral deterioration.

In fact, African American literature has tried, from the very beginning, to accommodate its ethos to the American exceptionalism that the nation has cultivated as a national standard. This is so because in the national and ideological turmoil that suffused the American Revolution the need of an ideological invention that could live up to the nascent nation’s idiosyncrasy became primordial. To create this sense of nationhood that served as a starting point to model the formation of a national ideology old texts, like those penned by John Winthrop or Cotton Mather, acquired purpose and momentum and therefore were brought to the front to be galvanized and reinterpreted as cultural emblems. Slave narratives together with the first works of fiction that black Americans styled, for example, drawn from this cultural outlet aiming to both embrace and criticize such national message.

The Bondwoman’s Narrative, Moses, Man of the Mountain and A Mercy reshape the Christian message as it is propounded in the Bible to elevate their own conception of the spiritual message—the aforementioned black Christianity—to the national arena. Thus Crafts, Hurston and Morrison not only narrativize their sense of sacredness but also create a feminine and feminist aesthetic to be placed and cherished within the African American cultural discourse. My main contention is that the sacred femininity that puts the ethics and aesthetics of African American women at the center of a certain mode of (African) Americanness relies, to a large extent, on a personal view of spirituality that links women ontologically. I use the term sacredness following Mircea Eliade’s coinage of the concept. According to this famed historian of religion, sacredness has little to do with a supernatural vision of the world. Contrarily, it evokes a new way to represent, and to proclaim, a “sense of being” (116). By using sacredness I also point to Ryan’s vision in which the term encompasses spirituality and ideology articulated “through the artistic expression of African diaspora experience” (10).

Since the way to reinvent themselves became primordial for African American women from the early stages of the nation-to-be onwards, a distinct mode of representation following their own spiritual understanding of the Christian creed surfaced as a means of empowering but also as a means to create a specific black cultural outlet. Indeed, black women appraisal of sacredness modulates a spirituality deeply related to womanhood. I refer to spirituality as it is described by Amanda Portfield in her work Feminine Spirituality in America. Portfield describes the African American women’s version of spirituality as a “spirituality [that] engages an individual’s deepest feelings, it encompasses the religious attitudes and experiences of individuals, and it does not require belief in God or allegiance to institutional forms of worship” (7).

Considering that African American women started to leave fictional testimonies in the nineteenth century, I have chosen a distinctive novel for each century—19th, 20th and 21st—to see the way in which these black women writers have modeled the concept of spirituality and the Christian creed from the beginning until the present. Each novel, I propose, represents its own century by showing the way in which the modulation of spirituality, mainly through the use of the American jeremiad that holds forth in each of them along three centuries, follows a (black) cultural pattern and a legacy of specific aesthetics. Yet, and although the American jeremiad envisions three steps to acquire an epistemological value in the United States, the third novel I offer for analysis breaks away from this train of thought and therefore reveals the pitfalls of the jeremiad rhetoric tradition and, ultimately, interrogates the legitimacy of spirituality as a means of empowering.

If spirituality links The Bondwoman’s Narrative, Moses, Man of the Mountain and A Mercy following the cultural path that the American jeremiad traced, I also argue that this spirituality that Crafts, Hurston and Morrison uphold in their narratives is unrelentingly bent on affect and inclusion. Indeed, and stemming from the affect theory that Silvan Tomkins first introduced in his seminal book Affect Imagery Consciousness (1962), I consider that a feminine spirituality and a feminine vision of affect as proposed by Barbara Tomlinson, go hand in hand in the novels I intend to analyze. These politics of affect have gained momentum lately due to a new and feminist reading that thinkers like Tomlinson, Sarah Ahmed, Melissa Gregg or Megan Watkins have impinged on it. In this sense, Tomlinson’s book Feminism and Affect at the Scene of Argument has proven highly illuminating in my attempt to grasp the novels’ affective traces since they succeed in linking black women’s subjectivity by modeling “the matter and matters of affect into an ethical, aesthetic and political task all at once” (Gregg and Gregory 3). In the book, Tomlinson proposes a new way of reading novels— beyond their understanding as “political tools” (4) as she states—within the affective modes that stem from them. This is the way, she further asserts, to transform the terms of reading and to authorize feminine feelings as capable of creating a discourse of rebirth. Affect serves to elaborate alternative modalities of belonging and to privilege different ways for self-assertion. Deeply linked with spirituality, Brian Massumi, in Parables for the Virtual: Movement, Affect, Sensation (2002), posits affect as what escapes our attention, and links its importance to a spiritual mode of representation since it facilitates an “ontological emergence that is released from cognition”, and rather opts for uniting subjectivities through a shared “codified emotion” that brings forth an “autonomy of affect” (35). Hence, and taking this into account, these three novels, written by (black) women and in which women figure prominently as the main characters, make for an interesting reading to authenticate the existing link between feminine spirituality and a feminist side of affect.

In my reading, Hannah Crafts’s The Bondwoman’s Narrative (1857), Zora Neale Hurston’s Moses, Man of the Mountain (1939) and Toni Morrison’s A Mercy (2008), elucidate the way in which African American women have developed the interconnection between their specific mode of spirituality to demand and/or criticize their recognition and values with the affective bonds that the characters disclose. The subsumed ethics that accompany their request is postulated according to a feminized version of the jeremiad rhetoric tradition that is at the core of each novel. However, as it will be seen, the Christian creed alongside the jeremiadic tone of its demands as cultural outlets will be refracted in the 21st century due to its eventual failure and its factual shortcomings. Crafts, Hurston and Morrison reconfigure in their fictions the sacred ethos with affective bonds that are deemed crucial not only to overcome suffering but to recognize their black women characters as human beings. The matching pact with religion and affect unite their narratives although in different ways and with different purposes attempting to make a contribution to their own culture.

It is my contention that Crafts, Hurston and Morrison sought to reshape the Christian creed trying to legitimize their own sense of spirituality so that it could unite them in the effort present. This train of thought can be seen through the twentieth century and even up to the twenty-first century. Besides, I would like to demonstrate how these novels display the way in which the politics of affect play an important—though sometimes divergent—part in black women’s appraisal of Christian religion. These versions of African American women’s spirituality are infused with an affective inclusion that stems from a collective vision of black Christianity. A vision that seeks to unite that social and cultural pugnacity that helps them erect a distinctive mode of representation in the United States Through the analysis of these three novels I seek to expose the links that a personal sense of spirituality together with a feminist view of affect interplay in the reconfiguration of the black female self. Both spirituality and affect intermingle in the three narratives to pursue the cultural continuum of the African American jeremiad contemplating in such a way new ways of portraying the representation of the black female self. However, I emend this rhetoric tradition by showing how the last stage of the jeremiad, as envisioned in its conception, fails to live up to the sociocultural ideas for African American women in the 21st century, a move I will try to illustrate through Toni Morrison’s vision. The takeaway of this train of thought points to measure the ways in which spirituality and affect validate the way in which African American women have and have been represented along three centuries. The analysis of the third novel interrogates such cultural moves and destabilizes such conceived notions aiming to open new windows of knowledge and new readings.

I devote Chapter 1 to examining the concept of spirituality which helps African American women in their archaeological search of a black female aesthetic that can overshadow the image of the sexual female self that the racist theories of the antebellum America socially conveyed. To such an attempt, black women weaved an interrelated web of affect and spirituality that produced a new conception of black femininity. Besides, the study of the affective turn for black women’s sacredness, following Gregory J. Seigworth & Melissa Gregg (2010), Sarah Ahmed (2004), Barbara Tomlinson (2010) or Berlant (2004), also develops a specific ethic of care that can encompass healing in national terms. This bond of feminine solidarity that emphasizes the relational mode of behaving of black women links their readings of sacredness to a collective experience of healing which showcases their shared warrant to cater for each other. Instead of relying on the political force encapsulated within the religious discourse, black women enlarge the religious creed to foster new subjectivities and to create their own cultural language.

Chapter 2 is devoted to the study of how a personal spirituality that draws on a committed Christian belief is used by the first fugitive black female slave in writing a novel. The discovery of The Bondwoman’s Narrative in 2001 by Henry Louis Gates Jr. marked a turning point in the African American literary canon. The novel has generated a considerable amount of controversy since many critics argue that it is vaguely possible that the novel be written by a fugitive female slave. However, and considering Professor Gregg Hecimovich’s future proofs that will demonstrate so worthy, I analyze The Bondwoman’s Narrative taking into account the conception of the sacred femininity that the nineteenth-century black Christianity offered to African American women. The chapter is divided into three parts. The first one elaborates on the idea of African American Christianity and black women over the course of the nineteenth century and it serves as the background in which Crafts’s reconfiguration of black Christianity shapes up the conception of the black female slave’s sacred femininity towards freedom. Following this historical framework I shortly introduce the whereabouts that have brought about Hannah Crafts’s novel to the African American literary canon ever since it was discovered.

As mentioned before, the novel has triggered heated debates over the dubious identity of Hannah Crafts herself. If Hannah Crafts was indeed a black fugitive female self, then The Bondwoman’s Narrative stands as the first novel ever written by a black woman and therefore her conception of spirituality would bring on black Christianity as the social and cultural matrix through which to empower and brandish her self-assertion and establish her literary output. Drawing broadly on the Bible, Crafts holds to her religious principles as a staunch Christian throughout the novel in order to shape her modeling of the black female self in the African American rhetorical tradition and, more precisely, in the African American jeremiad which stands as an intersection for Crafts to challenge America’s sin and to assert herself as a truly (African) American citizen who longs to live and participate in the Calvinist American society understood as the biblical “City upon a Hill”. Besides, Crafts’s conception of sacred femininity builds on the jeremiad rhetoric to create a nuanced conception of affect that salvages the subjectivity of black within and outside the African American community. A perfection that links her ideal sacredness with the national creed of the nation arguing for a specific conception of the sacred self-attuned to a feminist and aesthetic reading of Robert Bellah’s “civil religion”. In so doing, I demonstrate how Crafts’s novel holds a pioneering role in the African American literary canon since it acts as the forerunner of W.E.B. Du Bois’s double consciousness, as it is explained in The Souls of Black Folk, although explicitly based on a feminine reading of spirituality, for both texts share the attempt to shape an African American identity that partakes in the American ideals but with unique traits that make it different.

In Chapter 3, I move on to the twentieth century to look at Zora Neale Hurston’s third novel Moses, Man of the Mountain for this text persists in the legacy of black sacred femininity put in motion by Hannah Crafts. After contextualizing the African American Christianity especially within the Sanctified Church, about which Hurston herself fully write, I concentrate on the aesthetics of the sacred in this black female revision of the Bible’s famous episode. Building up on Hannah Crafts’s biblical enterprise, Moses, Man of the Mountain voices the nation’s downfall by also aestheticizing and building upon the African American jeremiad. However, and heeding Crafts’s promise of a new national dawn, of the three stages that the jeremiad contemplates, Hurston’s novel is firmly grounded on the second moment that focuses on the “criticism of present declension” (Howard-Pitney 8). Thus, the text presents sacredness for African American women as a poetics of healing and thereby it epitomizes Judylyn Ryan’s paradigm of growth, which is defined as a proactive way to conjure up Christianity so that it can serve black women to establish their subjectivity. Precisely, such paradigm addresses the necessity for an ontological shift in the reconfiguration of African American female subjectivity as the novel puts forward.

In the context of the Sanctified Church in the 20th century, Moses, Man of the Mountain’s rhetorical complexity puts the black priestess center stage to bolster up a determinative theological and theoretical approach by conceiving a female protagonist as the leader of the black community. Though her leadership is openly challenged, Miriam, the priestess, unfolds a feminist reading of spirituality striving to unite the entire community. In so doing, Hurston cultivates a feminist vision of African American modes of spiritual perception that wield the rhetoric lament of the jeremiad to breed the politics of affect within the sacredness that unite black women on the whole. Miriam’s relevant role in the story brings the focus to the kaleidoscopic nature of spirituality that African American women have historically nurtured. Placing the figure of Moses in the middle of female sacred subjectivity aims to pave the way and show an example for black female leadership—and therefore public recognition—within the black community. Also, Moses, Man of the Mountain is Hurston’s literary rendition of the aesthetics of sacredness as a healing process considering the sociocultural view that her idiosyncrasy represented in the context of the Harlem Renaissance. However, Hurston is not content with portraying African American women’s spirituality as a simple source of good. Accordingly, through Miriam’s final surrender to the demons of power and religious tyranny, the author conveys and demands an ethical stand to the sacredness that black women need to cultivate. The novel’s final chaos and social turmoil help to elucidate Hurston’s message to include black female spiritual vindications in the reconfiguration of the nation within the aesthetics of black vernacular culture. So, besides contemplating religion as a source of social critique, in Moses, Man of the Mountain Hurston’s politics of recognition rely heavily on female affective bonds within the spiritual ethos of the nation.

Lastly, Chapter 4 explores the role of Christianity in the twenty-first century through the eyes of Toni Morrison. Her ninth novel, A Mercy (2008), offers the possibility to look back to the primordial settings of the Christian creed of the United States. In this light, Morrison links the religious misreadings and mischiefs when they come to represent and allure the egalitarian ethos of a nation that yearned for social perfection in the eyes of God. The transcultural visions of the female characters that fill the novel bring another focus to the concept of sacredness both in contemporary America as well as in the origins of the nation. Thus, A Mercy re-contextualizes the last stage that the American jeremiad beholds—“a resolving prophecy that society will shortly complete its mission and redeem the promise” (Howard-Pitney 8)—, and is complicit with the idea that black Christianity has contrarily held out a sense of an unresolved prophecy. However, affect does figure notably for Morrison seems to contend that the affective bonds suffuse the imaginary power of sacredness and reveal the Christian to be harmful when adopted by the enticing Patriarchal system—Jacob as the American Adam—and by the dispossessed female subjectivities, more precisely through the figure of Florens—expelled from this supposed paradise as the biblical Eve. Hence, in A Mercy, religion becomes an aesthetic outlet that the author uses to sharply despise its ethos with regards to its power to heal and give comfort. In so doing, the Nobel laureate grows apart from the path of considering spirituality as a redemptory tenet that Crafts and Hurston envisioned. The wrenching intimacies of women’s pain in the novel signal the pitfall of the sacred message and exemplify how in a globalized era in which religious discourse seems to be associated to uncertainty and inequality, spirituality functions not as a “life-affirming ideology” (146), as Judylyn S. Ryan declares, but rather as a contested commodity that can even thwart the subjectivity of African American women.

The reversal of the last stage of the jeremiad rhetoric tradition manifests, all the more, the sedative shift from the aforementioned paradigm of growth that dominated the twentieth century to what I would call the paradigm of declension, in which religion should no longer be considered as the safety board that women need and, contrarily, it confirms the spirituality of the Africanist presence in US culture as “the return of the exceptionalist repressed” (57) in Thomas B. Byers’s words. Morrison’s novel rejects Christianity as a cultural tool from which to uphold a rehabilitated version of femininity. Although it uses religion as an aesthetic concept to build a narrative that can be aptly read taking into account the religious bigotry that has been so seldom spread around the US through three centuries, the ending of A Mercy leaves the future on hold and comes full circle since its re-reading of the American jeremiad links it with its initial condition of protest and denunciation though with an intradiegetic twist. What is more, Morrison’s change of heart with regards to the role of religion also dislodges how the affective bonds between women, as the only possible launching pad through which to heal themselves, are wiped away due to the poisonous embracement of the Christian message. Therefore, religion appears in A Mercy—analogous to what happens in the 21st century—as a conflicting cultural tenet rather than a source of wisdom and empowerment. That is to say, even as the last stage of the jeremiad foresaw, Christianity engulfs subjectivities and affects all the same.

In short, I argue that through the evolution and critique of the aesthetics of the (African) American jeremiad within the spiritual reading of the sacred femininity imbued in the literary discourse of Crafts, Hurston and Morrison, the building of an aesthetic subjectivity of black women from the nineteenth century until the twenty-first century shows the decline of a cultural tradition. Although the importance of Christianity is unquestionable for the three novels, I claim that through the analyses of The Bondwoman’s Narrative, Moses, Man of the Mountain and A Mercy, it is clear to see the differences in terms of usage and its eventual debunking.

Canadian scholar Daniel Coleman has recently stated the connections between spirituality and the creation of aesthetics by pinpointing that “(s)pirituality assumes that I have something to learn and that I can learn it from many things around me that draw me out of myself” (2009: 39). Spirituality, he further contends, “driven by the need to connect meaningfully with myself, the word around me, and to the Otherness of God and humanity, demands more than a hermeneutics of unmitigated suspicion, for it is premised on my own creatureliness” (2009: 39). Coleman’s words alongside the idea of spirituality as a reasoned outlet to shape a feminist aesthetics validate, without a doubt, black women’s cultural conception. Hence, beyond several analyses such as Jacqueline Grant’s White Women’s Christ and Black Women’s Jesus, Houston A. Baker’s Workings on the Spirit: The Poetics of Afro-American Women’s Writing, Cain Hope Felder edition’s Stony the Road We Trod: African American Biblical Interpretation, Judylyn S. Ryan’s Spirituality as Ideology in Black Women’s Film and Literature, Anthony B. Pinn’s Black Religion and Aesthetics: Religious Thought and Life in Africa and the African Diaspora, Jeannette King’s Women and the Word: Contemporary Women Novelists and the Bible or William David Hart’s Afro-Eccentricity: Beyond the Standard Narrative of Black Religion that have tended to look at religion as just a source of social empowerment, I put forward sacred femininity and affect as major cultural forces that are used by these proposed African American women writers to also create an ontological reconfiguration of black women’s subjectivity. A move that, as it has been pointed out, ultimately misses out on the way of the American jeremiad and showcases the pitfalls of Christianity not as a cultural tenet but as an ontological source of empowerment. Thus, the paradigm of declension appears to have gained momentum and the primeval evolution that consorts with spirituality has turned out to display not only the crevices of the nation but also the need to rethink the role of religion and the necessity to hazard the North American cultural discourse considering the contingencies that the society needs in demand.

All in all, the evolution of their concrete feminine reading of black Christianity exposes how in a globalized and interconnected world in which the present cravings engulf the traditional values that have defined the United States for over five centuries, the unresolved prophecies and the acclaimed boundaries that sacredness illustrates are considered a suitable manner to grapple with the debate over the cultural representation of African American women. Ultimately, Black Christianity and spirituality figure prominently as aesthetic values within the African American (female) community despite the fact that they seem to have gained black women little of their demands throughout time, as Morrison’s disquieting ninth novel shows.