I'm in the process of wading through Harriet Beecher Stowe's really quite dreadfully sentimental novel Uncle Tom's Cabin. I realize that scholars like Jane Tompkins have suggested ways to rethink sentimentality in terms of political strategy, but I'm afraid my gut response is still to skip large portions of treacly sentiment.
Anyway, here is an excerpt from chapter XXIII of the novel, followed by my pervie reshaping of it. For those of you who have read some of my other postings, my confession that I have a racial fetish should come as no surprise. I realize that it is a problem to eroticize slavery. But I would insist that the realm of fantasy cannot be easily or seamlessly collapsed with the realm of political and ethical commitments: to put it less pompously, one cannot assume that a person who is turned on by the image of a cute black slave being whipped is also in his day to day dealings with black people a violent racist. Just as sadists are often the gentlest of people outside their theatrical scenes, people who have racist _s_e_x_ual fantasies are often quite progressive in their politics.
Chapter XXII: "About this time Augustine St. Clare's brother Alfred, with his eldest son, a boy of twelve, spent a day or two with his family at the lake. [Augustine St. Clare is opposed to slavery and is the father of little Eva; Alfred is completely committed to the system of slavery.] Henrique, the eldest son of Alfred was a noble, dark-eyed, princely boy, full of vivacity and spirit; and from the the first moment of introduction seemed to be perfectly fascinated by the spirituelle graces of his cousin Evangeline.
Eva had a little pet pony, of a snowy whiteness. . . and this pony was now brought up to the back veranda by Tom, while a little mulatto boy of about thirteen led along a small black Arabian, which has just been imported at a great expense for Henrique.
Henrique had a boy's pride in his new possession; and as he advanced and took the reins out of the hands of his little groom, he looked carefully over him, and his brow darkened. "What's this, Dodo, you little lazy dog! You haven't rubbed my horse down this mmorning."
"Yes, Mas'r," said Dodo submissively; "he got that dust on his own self."
"You rascal, shlut [a nice slip. I meant to write "shut" but I like the combination of "shut" and "slut."] your mouth!" said Henrique violently raising his riding-whip. "How dare you speak?"
The boy was a handsome bright-eyed mulatto of just Henrique's size, and his curling hair hung around a white bold forehead. He had white blood in his veins as could be seen by the quick flush in his cheek, and the sparkle of his eye, as he eagerly tried to speak.
"Mas'r Henrique," he began.
Henrique struck him across the face with his riding whip, and seizing one of his arms forced him on his knees, and beat him till he was out of breath.
. . . "How could you be so cruel and wicked to poor Dodo?" said Eva. . . [Later in the conversation, Eva asks,] "Why can't you [love Dodo]?"
"Love Dodo! Why, Eva you wouldn't have me! I may like him well enough; but you don't love your servants."
" I do, indeed."
"How odd!"
The Perv's Version: Henrique, the eldest son of Alfred, was a dark-eyed princely boy, and from the first moment of his introduction, seemed to be perfectlyl fascinated by the graces of his cousin little Eva.
Little Eva, a wily Southern belle, for all her lachrymose Christian pieties, would not yield to Henrique's demands to make the beast with two backs because she knew once she yielded her maidenhead, she would not be able to lure Henrique into marriage. Covering her twat with her hands, she demurely declared, "Little Eva is off limits."
"Well, then," said Henrique considering the situation, "What about Big Eva," and with that sally, he daringly stuck an inquisitive thumb up Eva's behind.
"Whoops!" declared little Eva more turned on than she cared to admit. "Well perhaps big Eva, but I need to think about it."
"Well, I'll allow you to sit on it a few days," said Henrique, who liked a bad pun almost as much as the perv. At that moment Dodo the mulatto slave approached with Henrique's horse. Dodo was a little mulatto boy of thirteen. He had delicate, hairless skin the color of coffee with a a considerable helping of cream. High cheekbones (on his face; we'll get to the other cheeks soon enough, pervie readers). Lightish eyes. A slightly flattened nose. [Oddly, he looked amazingly like a high yaller dinge boy who works at a Kinko's after whom the perv hungrily lusts. Unfortunately, Kinko's does not allow kinky activities like whupping the employees.] Henrique had lustfully watched Dodo take a _s_h_i_t_ in the slave quarters, and he knew the boy had the pertest little ass cheeks, even lighter than his face which was exposed to the sun.
If he was not going to have Eva at least he could have some fun with Dodo, Henrique decided. Without even looking at his horse, he angrily demanded, "What's this, Dodo, you little lazy dog! You haven't rubbed my horse down this morning."
"No excuse, Massa," said Dodo fearfully, submissively lowering his eyes. He knew well enough what would follow, having gauged the perverse appetites of Henrique. A confirmed little breeder himself and no masochist, he would much rather have had little Eva than be humiliated and punished and perhaps _f_u_c_k_ed by Henrique. But even more than beggars, slaves can't be choosers.
Henrique struck him across the face with his riding whip, and seizing one of his arms, forced him on his knees, and beat him till he was out of breath. The crop fell on Dodo's shoulders, his back. The boy yelped with pain, at one point involuntarily threw up a hand to try and ward off a blow and got a violent kick in the thigh for his pains. To balance himself, Henrique dug his fingers into the boy's nappy hand. Confused and stinging, Dodo fell forward, and his pretty little golden syrup colored nose grazed Henrique's palpable erection. The boy was sickeningly aware of the hot, throbbing bulge of his master.
"How could you be so cruel and wicked to Dodo?" protested Eva, who actually wished she could be part of the action. Why can't you lerve Dodo?"
She turned and walked away. If she could get into the cool plantation house, she would be able at peace to stroke her clit. But as she began to walk back to the plantation, she remembered that she had left her gloves behind. She turned and stood fascinated at the sight she observed.
Believing that Eva was gone, Henrique turned Dodo over. With one violent movement, he ripped off the boy's threadbare breeches. [Dodo would get another whipping from the overseer for Henrique's lust later that day.] Then he began to spank those golden cheeks. Whap, whap, WHAP. Quick dig of an invasive finger into that tempting arse cleft. Yelp of pain and lust from dinge boy. WHAP. Distinct crimson flush on those golden brown cheeks.
Then Henrique lay flat on top of Dodo, pressing the terrified boy into the filthy dust of the courtyard and began _f_u_c_k_ing him doggy style. His unlubricated _c_o_c_k_ plowed into the boy's tender ass chute making him yelp with pain. For his pains, he had his ears savagely twisted by his evil master.
"What are you doing, Henrique?" shrilled Eva.
Henrique turned and saw his astonished cousin gazing at the scene with horrified delight. Not only was this miscenegation; this was homo_s_e_x_ual miscegenation.
"Well," said Henrique sulkily, "You did tell me to love him."
"I say," said Eva. "I have a _d_i_l_d_o_ that I bought when we visited New Orleans. I would like to love a dinge boy too. Not have his filthy black thing up me you, understand, but have my appendage up his. I would like to lerve him. I would indeed."
"Well," said Henrique, " I like my dinge boys darker chocolate, so you can have him for sloppy seconds. But do you really lerve dinge boys? A proper Southern belle like you. How odd!"