“Finally, The Merchant of Venice demonstrates that race was never solely attached to skin colour, but also that skim colour was never too far from nay articulation of race.”*

In the summation of her argument in the sixth chapter of her book, Ania Loomba demonstrates the complications to untangling race, religion, and skin color. Throughout history race, skin color, and religion have been closely connected, whether in the context of slavery, love, or power. Loomba argument, essentially, is that while one cannot automatically assume race and skin color are connected, there can never be truly separate. Examples of this include the “Spanish Moor.” This title intertwines African decent, Spanish nationality (however accurate), and a Muslim religious identity. Loomba mentions this complication when Salman Rushdie’s story The Moor’s Last Sigh, a child of a Christian woman and Jewish man is named a “Moor.” The child is called a “‘Moor’ both because his skin is dark, and because his mother lovingly nicknames him ‘mor’…”** Now these identities as stated above are being attributed to a child that only fits one of the traditional criterion for a “Moor.” It’s interesting to note, that while Othello is known as “the Moor,” his religious identity is never mentioned, but it sometimes assumed because of his title “the Moor.” There are other instances of this phenomenon throughout history.

*Ania Loomba, Shakespeare, Race, and Colonialism, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 160.

** Loomba, Shakespeare, Race, and Colonialism, 135.

In 1744 (just outside the time period of our class), William Smith published his narrative of his trip Guinea. During his travels, after meeting with a “Grandee,” he was presented with a concubine, who he described in detail, “She made methought no despicable Figure, and though she was black, that was amply recompenc’d by the Softness of her Skin, the beautiful Proportion and exact Symmetry of each part of her Body, and the natural, pleasant and inartificial [sic] Method of her Behaviour.”* In his description, he makes a point to say that it is not because of her complexion, but rather in spite of her complexion, that this woman is beautiful. It was Aphra Behn’s description of Oroonoko that reminded me of Smith’s description of the Grandee’s concubine, when she says, “His face was not that brown, rusty black which most of that nation are, but a perfect ebony or polished jet…His nose was rising and Roman instead of African and flat. His mouth, the finest shaped that could be seen, far from those great turned lips which are so natural to the rest of the Negroes.”** Rather than demonstrating a curiosity for the exotic, as many travel narratives do during this time period, Behn describes Oroonoko’s beauty as originating from typically European features. Though it is fiction, I wonder if Oroonoko represents the beginning of an 18th Century trend to describe the beauty of African men and women under the guise that it is only the European features that are beautiful. I also wonder if this was a “safe way” of European writers  to go against a cultural taboo (that is of praising Africans for their beauty and intelligence). While I am not attempting an argument in either direction, I thought it was interesting to point out.

*William Smith. A new voyage to Guinea: describing the customs, manners, soil, Climate, Habits, Buildings, Education, Manual Arts, Agriculture, Trade, Employments, Languages, Ranks of Distinction, Habitations, Diversions, Marriages, and whatever else is memorable among the Inhabitants. Likewise, an account of their animals, minerals, &c. With great Variety of entertaining Incidents, worthy of Observation, that happen’d during the Author’s Travels in that large Country. Illustrated with Cutts, engrav’d from Drawings taken from the Life. With an alphabetical index. By William Smith, Esq; Appointed by the Royal African Company to survey their Settlements, make Discoveries, &c. (London: John Nourse, 1744), 250-254

** Aphra Behn, Oroonoko, (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), 15.