Jamaican vampirism involves the
practise and belief in the figures of Obeah. Obeah is at once the shadow world
where the living dead reside, and the practitioners in the art of controlling
shadows. In the novel, Wide Sargasso Sea, the Obeah are represented by
the servant woman, Christophine, who is present throughout the novel, gives
Antoinette a potion to seduce Rochester, and becomes embroiled in his
consciousness as an echo of his confused and differentiated rationality. For
example, “There are blanks in my mind that cannot be filled up.” P.46 (WSS).
We learn about Jamaican vampirism
through the perspective of the young Rochester, who has travelled to Jamaica to
take a Creole bride and find his fortune. The taking of the bride becomes a
struggle with eroticism; the finding of the fortune becomes a fight between
what he knows to be true and the other world of half-truths and lies from
whence the Obeah assails him. “It was a beautiful place – wild, untouched,
above all untouched, with an alien, disturbing, secret loveliness. And it kept
its secret. I’d find myself thinking, ‘What I see is nothing – I want what it
hides – that is not nothing.’” P.54 (WSS).
Antoinette is not yet a vampire.
However, she becomes endowed with vampiric qualities as the separation between
herself and the rational Rochester becomes apparent and grows. She desires him,
yet he also appalls her. She uses her power to overcome her emotional weakness,
but to what end? Antoinette’s vampiric nature feeds at night and through sex,
yet it also drives her mad. “She is in your blood and your bones.” P.61 (WSS)
and, “Not that blank, hating, moonstruck face.” P.107 (WSS).
One might reasonably ask the
question: What are the author’s intentions with regard to Antoinette? Bertha in
Jane Eyre is a negative picture of a woman gone mad and adding an
unexplained Gothic element to the story. She is present as a bad dream, a wild
animal, she is a black mark against the aspirations of Jane Eyre, and she is a
fateful aspect that is programmed to conflagration. Antoinette in Wide
Sargasso Sea treads parallel tracks. Yet these tracks are opened out
and articulated, they are often explained in terms of the negative attraction
and repulsion that they coalesce and produce. In other words, Jean Rhys
explores the very motive forces of vampirism by bringing into the light that
which Charlotte Brontë hid in the attic. Antoinette is not Obeah, but she is
immersed in its power and she is sensitive to its movement: She is a puppet
moved by vampirism.
It is fitting at this point to draw
a line between the Antoinette of Jean Rhys, and the writing of Virginia Woolf.
“She says that it is necessary to eliminate, to eliminate all that is
resemblance and analogy, but also ‘to put everything into it’: eliminate
everything that exceeds the moment, but put in everything that it includes -
and the moment is not the instantaneous, it is the haecceity[1]
into which one slips and that slips into other haecceities by transparency.”[1]
Antoinette and Bertha are joined in this manner. They are fundamentally
different fictional characters, created at different times and for different
purposes. Yet the thread of vampirism that gives rise to alternate realities
that are countered and other to average waking consciousness joins them. For
example, the madness of Bertha is the wild look in Antoinette’s eyes: “I was
longing for night and darkness and the time when the moon-flowers open.” P.107
(WSS).
Antoinette is not yet mad. She still
has control because the source of her magic is close at hand, and the lush
surroundings of Martinique covers her wanderings and restlessness and her
inability to concentrate on the magnification of her will. She conceives of
England as a dream. She longs for her Englishman to be in love with her. But it
is not to be. The becoming vampire takes hold of her to fill the gap between
her wishes and the reality of the situation. She is caught in a torpor that at
least she knows that she can control. For example, “She’ll moan and cry and
give herself as no sane woman would – or could. Or could. Then lie so still,
still as this cloudy day. A lunatic who always knows the time. But never does.”
P.106 (WSS).
One must also analyse the
relationship between Antoinette and Rochester as it appears in Wide Sargasso
Sea in order to discover the secrets of vampirism that the novel lays bare.
The haecceity, through which Antoinette falls in abeyance of Obeah and the
natural power of the surroundings, also includes Rochester. His rationality and
his will cannot keep him whole in the light of the imminent break up of the
white colonial self in the tropics. For example, his weakness for pleasure is
demonstrated through the fact that he has sex with the servant girl. He
activates the pleasure principle and the mechanisms of control and release that
it implies. Georges Bataille has expressed the situation accordingly: “And
surely pleasure isn’t found unless conventional arrangements are destroyed and
a fearful world is brought into existence. But the converse is just as true.
We’d never find the unlucky flood of light that reveals the truth if pleasure
didn’t support our insupportable steps.”[2]
Rochester is caught in this classic
double bind. His rationality and will have become detached from action and move
on a fluid plane that has Obeah, the tropical intensity and Antoinette’s
sexuality as complementary and inter-locking poles. In other words, the more he
tries to reactivate his colonial project and unify his intentions with the
results, the more his awareness of their detachment increases, and the plane
begins to define a sense of becoming that we may express as a vague essence
/or/ vampirism. To let his rationality and will and language roam free, and to
wander over the plane in a vast abandon, is an option induced by the rum and
the pleasure principle. Yet the freedom which this movement inspires, is not
one that rationality or will or language may easily recognise. Therefore,
Rochester is trapped, he is wholly imprisoned in his own becoming that defines
the victims of vampirism: “She had left me thirsty and all my life would be
thirst and longing for what I had lost before I found it.” P.111 (WSS).
The white male colonialist is
hereafter agonised through his relationship with vampirism that is set into
motion in Wide Sargasso Sea. Antoinette flies free at last as she
ignites herself and Thornfield and the notion that money or an estate or an
inheritance may possess someone. We feel pity for Rochester at the end of Jane
Eyre as the blind and crippled victim of the madwoman in attic; yet this
pity is tinged with the break up of reason that we know the character has gone
though in the West Indies. Rochester is not innocent. His colonial expedition
failed. However, it defined a negative space in which vampirism could grow and
proliferate in itself using tropical eroticism as a cover. Eroticism plays
games with the subject, as it lurks in wait for one, and just when one puts it
into words, the description itself will transmute and offer up another exploration
(of eroticism and the subject). One may perceive a lapsus or linguistic hole
where eroticism has taken over and drilled an intoxicated passage through
consciousness. Roland Barthes has expressed this idea thus: “In this way the
transgression of values that is the avowed principle of eroticism is matched by
– if not based on – a technical transgression of the forms of language, for the
metonymy is nothing but a forced syntagma, at the very level of speech, a
counter-division of objects, usages, spaces, and properties that is eroticism
itself.”[3]
The confusion is clear. Rhys employs
the echo to effect the action of transgression in the mind of Rochester. This
echo contains the words of the Obeah Christophine, who works in the shadows to
initiate a plane of becoming, on which Antoinette may properly exist and
Rochester may fall into. He is caught on this plane. The re-structuration that
happens to him in Martinique is thereafter carried forward and played out
through the Gothic element in Jane Eyre. Vampirism is in this sense an
instance of retroactive introspection. The subject is drained of his vitality
through a latent relationship which may be activated in memory or proximity
with the plane of becoming as defined by eroticism, the tropical heat and Obeah.
This is why Rochester cannot bear to be in Thornfield, as being in the same
house as Antoinette configures the plane that assails him. As he states in Wide
Sargasso Sea in anticipation of this situation: “I too can wait – for the
day when she is only a memory to be avoided, locked, and like all memories a
legend or a lie.” P.112 (WSS).
Rochester is the victim of vampirism
and Antoinette is the carrier of the disease. Jane Eyre is portrayed by Brontë
as the Christian angel who brings the light of education, innocence and love
into this instance of vampirism. Jamaican vampirism defies Christianity, as it
is a counter movement to its morality and codes. Evidence from the colonialists
points to the superstitious and malicious nature of Obeah. They depict it as
the opposite of Christian purity. The working of the shadow, or the ‘duppies’
as the living dead were termed, is the anti-thesis to the reincarnation of the
morally perfect body of Christ. The Obeah caused consternation amongst the
Christian settlers. They were the cause for rumour, gossip and fear. They
roused the moral sensibilities of the foreigners tending their plantations,
because the Obeah represented an extreme that might point to an ancient
practise, more powerful and profound than the Christian beliefs of the
colonialists. Ultimately, this tension is what survives and it is also what
drives the vampirism of Wide Sargasso Sea.
“Blot out
the moon
Pull down
the stars
Love in the
dark, for we’re in the dark
So soon, so
soon.” P.110 (WSS).
WSS = Rhys, Jean, Wide Sargasso Sea, (Harmondsworth: Penguin
Books, 1997).
[1] Deleuze, Gilles & Guattari,
Félix, One Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism & Schizophrenia Part II, (London:
The Athlone Press, 1988). P. 280.
[2] Bataille, Georges, Guilty, (Venice,
CA: The Lapis Press, 1988). P.161.
[3] Barthes, Roland, ‘The Metaphor of
the Eye’, in, Bataille, Georges, Story of the Eye, (Harmondsworth: Penguin
Books, 1982). P.125/6.