Jacobs was far ahead of her time in realizing that to achieve strides for abolition, the vital relationship between black and white women needed to be considered.
In her autobiography, Jacobs establishes this relation and arouses empathy, connecting women on the topics of sexual victimization and maternal emotions, then directly addresses her white audience to prove that the experiences of the races are worlds apart. She goes on to express a bold truth, stating many times that in the Southern world of enslaved black women, the morality of free Northern white women has little ethical relevance or authority. Because female slaves undergo such mental and emotional torment, they absolutely cannot be judged by the moral or legal standards of the free
world.
As the first female to write a slave narrative in the United States, Harriet Jacobs laid groundbreaking work by depicting the emotional anguish of slave women. This was key in developing a textual relationship with her predominantly female audienceJacobs could arouse empathy while subconsciously motivating the reader to act out against the hardships upon realizing their degree of truth. One important theme that recurs in Incidents is the shame and victimization of enslaved black women experienced through constant sexual harassment and dehumanization by white masters. Linda Brent (Jacobs' autobiographical character) speaks of her master Dr. Flint and the corruption of mind and soul that he begins when Brent is a mere fifteen years old. She remembers that, "My master began to whisper foul words in my ear. Young as I was, I could not remain ignorant of their import. I tried to treat them with indifference or contempt" (p 287). He even "resorted to many means to accomplish his purposes" (p 287) of stripping Linda of the strong Christian morals that had been instilled by her grandmother. Dr. Flint continued to dehumanize the young girl, telling Linda "I was his property; that I must be subject to his will in all things" (p 288). She had nobody to turn to, not a soul to confide in; terrified by what reaction her grandmother might have to the treatment, Linda kept Dr. Flint's words inside and was forced to struggle with the mental torture each day.
As a slave, a mere piece of property, confiding in the mistress was not even an option; Southern white women created enough tension between the female slaves owned by their husbands. Brent explains,
Even the little child, who is accustomed to wait on her mistress and her children, will learn, before she is twelve years old, why it is that her mistress hates such and such a one among the slaves [ ] She listens to the outbreaks of jealous passion [ ] Soon she will learn to tremble when she hears her master's footfall. [ ] If God has bestowed beauty upon her, it will prove her greatest curse. That which commands admiration in the white woman only hastens the degradation of the female slave. (p 288)
In writing so truthfully and descriptively, Harriet Jacobs creates an image in the mind of her white female reader. She can picture a small girl, hiding in fear, and she can feel the emotion surrounding the scene. The reader feels empathetic--this scared child could be her own. Jacobs has successfully begun to create a textual relationship between her personal experiences and those of the reader. The reader can even personally identify with Linda's character as she goes on to confess, "My master met me at every turn, reminding me that I belonged to him [ ] If I knelt by my mother's grave, his dark shadow fell on me even there. The light heart which nature had given me became heavy with sad forebodings" (p 288). It's tragic to imagine any being experiencing such hardships; woman-to-woman, Jacobs' writing stirs a strong, motivating sense of connection. Continuing to personalize her tale, she makes an appeal to the audience, exclaiming, "O, what days and nights of fear and sorrow that man caused me! Reader, it is not to awaken sympathy for myself that I am telling you truthfully what I suffered in slavery. I do it to kindle a flame of compassion in your hearts for my sisters who are still in bondage, suffering as I once suffered" (p 289). Jacobs goes on to express through the character Linda Brent that her position ultimately led her to feel helpless and cornered, forcing her to act in a way many white Northern women would not approve of. In furthering her abolition cause, Harriet Jacobs makes another desperate attempt to connect with and motivate her female audience. She shares her experiences with motherhood and the associated emotions, allowing the reader to connect on a personal note; however, she then goes a step further and uses motherhood to explain how white and black women in America are truly worlds apart. When Dr. Flint tells Linda that he is building a cottage for her to reside in, she becomes desperate to find a way out of his grasp and escape his incessant persecutions. Around the same time, a single white gentleman becomes interested in Linda and offers his sympathy for her situation. She describes him as an "educated and eloquent gentleman" (p 291) who offered the exciting freedom to develop a sexual relationship away from her master. Linda quickly envisions more than a love affair, though; she becomes pregnant, confident that Dr. Flint will put her up for sale upon hearing of the news. Once for sale, she is sure that a generous man friend named Mr. Sands will buy her and support the child. Jacobs is extraordinarily candid in saying of the devious act, "I knew what I did, and I did it with deliberate calculation" (p 290). The reaction by white female readers at this point in Jacobs' autobiography was probably one of disgust and lack of respect. The writer had surely anticipated this, though, and consistently positions herself as an agent of sexual manipulation, motivated by an intense desire for freedom that conquered any fear of sexual retribution. Jacobs is quick to defend her actions, explaining to the white audience that this discrepancy in behavior is where the true difference between white and black women can be found. She admits to being guilty and is brutally honest in explaining the basis of her actions: "I will not try to screen myself [ ] Neither can I plead ignorance or thoughtlessness. For years, my master had done his utmost to pollute my mind with foul images, and to destroy the pure principles inculcated by my grandmother, and the good mistress of my childhood. The influences of slavery [ ] had made me prematurely knowing, concerning the evil ways of the world" (p 290). However, Jacobs is also clear to say that unless women have been similarly victimized, they are in no position to condemn her for revealing such shocking revelations. She argues that unless one has been powerless in the face of strong sexual manipulation and abuse, one can't possibly understand her situation. Jacobs asserts herself to the reader and defends her right to interpret her own life story. She pleas, "Pity me, and pardon me, O virtuous reader! You never knew what it is to be a slave; to be entirely unprotected by law or subject to the will of another" (p 291). She admits to her guilt in saying, "I know I did wrong. No one can feel it more sensibly than I do. The painful and humiliating memory will haunt me to my dying day. Still, in looking back, calmly, on the events of my life, I feel that the slave woman ought not to be judged by the same standard as others" (p 291). At this point, the connection between Jacobs (as a black woman) and her white female audience has lost its strength from earlier points. She has articulated a bolder, more general truth: the morality of free white women has almost no ethical significance when applied to the lives of enslaved black women, living a world away. Jacobs wrote her autobiography in a strategically brilliant way. She emphasized the importance of developing a relationship between black and white women for abolition's sake, but clearly outlined the realities and myths undermining African American women and their relationship to 19th century standards for womanhood. By speaking of such universally emotion-evoking subjects as the shame associated with sexual victimization and the emotional agony of being a mother, Jacobs captivated her audience of white Northern women. She upheld their 19th century literary tradition of sentimental writing through directly addressing the reader and evoking sympathy. Most importantly, though, she broke away at the end to express the worlds (moral, ethical, and legal) separating free white women from enslaved black women. As Jacobs believed she could not be judged according to laws of the free world, her autobiography Incidents could not follow the usual plot lines of sentimental literature. She remains unmarried, no longer virtuous, and without a home of her own. That was certainly a clever way to rouse her audience into acting on behalf of the enslaved female population they had identified with just pages before.