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Mark TwainA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section references racism and enslavement.
Misto C opens the story referencing an unspecified third person plural: “We were sitting on the porch” (591), he says, with Aunt Rachel sitting “respectfully below our level” (591). Presumably, this “we” refers to Misto C’s family, but it invites readers to begin thinking in the collective. However, Aunt Rachel is notably not part of the “we.” Misto C bears her no conscious ill will, but he thinks of her as a different kind of person—Black as well as a servant. This distinction sets the stage for his misunderstanding of her; he hasn’t considered that if he himself had been enslaved, he would likely view his life as full of “trouble.”
The story that follows works to erode the racial and class division for both Misto C and readers. It does so primarily by invoking a trait 19th-century readers would have understood as universal: familial love. In fact, when Aunt Rachel begins talking about her family, she draws comparisons directly with Misto C. Her husband is “lovin’ an’ kind to [her], jist as kind as [Misto C] is to [his] own wife” (591), and she loves her seven children “jist de same as [he] loves [his] chil’en” (591). This acts as a bridge between Misto C and Aunt Rachel and is soon followed by Aunt Rachel fondly recalling her mother’s “tantrums.” After she says this, Misto C steps in as narrator for the final time to describe how Aunt Rachel “tower[s]” above him—a visual indication of the way in which she has risen in the eyes of Misto C.
As Aunt Rachel’s story progresses and she describes her relationship with Henry, she continues to get closer to Misto C. In the final moments of the story, when she is describing making breakfast for the Union soldiers, she uses her proximity to Misto C to describe the scene. She stoops down to the stove to get the biscuits “jist so, same as of [his] foot was de stove” (593), integrating him into the scene and thus into her own experiences. She even appears to touch him, describing, “pushin’ [the stove] back, jist as [she] pushes [his] foot” (593). Most tellingly, she merges Henry and Misto C in her retelling. When her son meets her eyes, she describes the moment as “jist as [she is] a lookin’ up clost under [Misto C’s] face now” (594). To make sure it’s Henry, she then grabs his arm and pushes back the sleeve to see his scar “jist so, as [she is] doin’ to [Misto C]” (594). Her reconnection her son thus becomes a moment of connection with Misto C. While the narrative never switches back to Misto C’s point of view, it asks readers to substitute themselves for Misto C just as Aunt Rachel has substituted him for Henry and to empathize with her as he presumably has himself.
After Aunt Rachel describes how her mother could clear a kitchen and then bandage up Henry, the narrative returns to Misto C’s point of view one last time: “Aunt Rachel had gradually risen, while she warmed to her subject, and now she towered above us, black against the stars” (592). This moment encapsulates the challenge the story as a whole poses to the societal constraints on Aunt Rachel as an African American woman.
As an enslaved woman, Aunt Rachel is expected to be subservient. However, she learns from her own mother to assert her authority and self-worth. Aunt Rachel describes how her mother would draw herself up to her full height, put her hands on her hips, and tell whoever was angering her that she wouldn’t be pushed around or taken advantage of easily: “I wa’n’t bawn in de mash to be fool’ by trash! I’s one o’ de ole Blue Hen’s Chickens, I is” (592). Aunt Rachel’s mother does this in the kitchen, a traditionally female space, and is able to clear the room so she can tend to her grandson. While Aunt Rachel’s mother is presumably exerting this strength of will over other enslaved people, Aunt Rachel absorbs the lesson and goes on to stand up for herself and her son to enslavers, when doing so could mean punishment or death. At the auction, she even uses her chains—a symbol of her oppression—to attack the people trying to separate her from her child. While this moment marks the apex of her resistance to enslavers specifically, her arc culminates in her repeating her mother’s saying to settle down a group of rowdy Union soldiers making fun of her “turban.” Like her mother before her, she rises above what society has deemed her worth to be.
Nevertheless, several factors complicate this depiction of Aunt Rachel as breaking free from the limits society has imposed on her. For one, her characterization owes something to racial stereotypes—i.e., the caricature of a Black, female figure who could be quite assertive, but typically in defense of the white family to whom she was loyal. While it is notable that Aunt Rachel’s maternal devotion appears only in connection to her own children, the apparent cheerfulness with which she continues her work as cook even after she is technically free may reflect the influence of such caricatures.
Further complicating matters is Twain’s assertion that he is presenting Aunt Rachel’s story “word for word.” If true, this has implications for her characterization; her remark about loving her children despite their Blackness would suggest internalized rather than authorial racism, for example. A strict retelling would also raise additional questions about Aunt Rachel’s societal standing. On the one hand, Twain allows her voice to dominate the narrative, giving her a chance to speak for herself in a way few Black women at the time would have had the chance to do. On the other hand, the story no longer belongs exclusively to Aunt Rachel once Twain has framed and published it. While the story clearly aims to challenge racism, there is a sense in which it uses a Black woman’s suffering for personal and societal benefit.
When Misto C initially asks his question to Aunt Rachel, she loses her habitual smile. This causes Misto C to rethink his question. “Why you can’t have had any trouble” (591), he says to her. He can’t believe that Aunt Rachel, a woman who is always laughing and smiling, could have known real unhappiness, but her demeanor suggests otherwise. Before Aunt Rachel plunges into her story, Misto C is therefore already caught off guard, and his doubts prime readers to reconsider their own assumptions not just about Aunt Rachel but also about the nature of happiness.
After ascertaining that Misto C truly wants to hear her story, Aunt Rachel’s first response to his question is to note that she was enslaved: “Has I had any trouble? Misto C—, I’s gwyne to tell you, den I leave it to you. I was bawn down ’mongst de slaves; I know all ’bout slavery, ’case I ben one of ’em my own se’f” (591). If this were a shorter and darker story, it might have ended with this swift refutation of Misto C’s preconceived ideas of Aunt Rachel. Yet immediately after noting her enslavement, Aunt Rachel goes on to talking about her family. She talks about her husband, whom she likens to Misto C in that both are “lovin’ an’ kind” (591), as well as her seven children, whom she loves dearly: She says she “would n’t give ’em up, no, not for anything dat’s in dis whole world” (592). The tragic tale of Aunt Rachel’s separation from her husband and children follows, but the narrative ends on an upbeat note as she reunites with her lost son Henry.
The final lines of Aunt Rachel’s story—and the text itself—are an apparent answer to Misto C’s question: “I hain’t had no trouble. An’ no joy!” (594). Despite directly referencing Misto C’s phrasing, however, the response is ambiguous; taken at face value, her words directly contradict the emotional highs and lows of the story that precedes them. Aunt Rachel does not give the question an easy answer because no such answer exists. Her story is characterized by slavery, loss, violence, and war, but it is also characterized by fond memories of family, change of fortune, and reunion, all told in a good-humored tone. Her voice lends levity that almost undercuts the pain just as her laughter confuses Misto C into thinking she could not have had any trouble. Whether her belief in God sustains her, the relief of finding one lost child eclipses everything else, or humor has simply become a coping mechanism, her response to Misto C suggests that it would be reductive to view her story as one of mere suffering.
By Mark Twain