Birth of an Industry: Blackface Minstrelsy and the Rise of American Animation

by Nicholas Sammond

In Birth of an Industry, Nicholas Sammond describes how popular early American cartoon characters were derived from blackface minstrelsy. He charts the industrialization of animation in the early twentieth century, its representation in the cartoons themselves, and how important blackface minstrels were to that performance, standing in for the frustrations of animation workers. Cherished cartoon characters, such as Mickey Mouse and Felix the Cat, were conceived and developed using blackface minstrelsy's visual and performative these characters are not like minstrels; they are minstrels. They play out the social, cultural, political, and racial anxieties and desires that link race to the laboring body, just as live minstrel show performers did. Carefully examining how early animation helped to naturalize virulent racial formations, Sammond explores how cartoons used laughter and sentimentality to make those stereotypes seem not only less cruel, but actually pleasurable. Although the visible links between cartoon characters and the minstrel stage faded long ago, Sammond shows how important those links are to thinking about animation then and now, and about how cartoons continue to help to illuminate the central place of race in American cultural and social life.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Race, Art, American History, Film, Music

398 pages, Kindle Edition

First published September 11, 2015

About the author

Nicholas Sammond is Associate Professor of Cinema Studies at the University of Toronto and author of Birth of an Industry: Blackface Minstrelsy and the Rise of American Animation.

Reviews

[6655321 · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think the strength of Sammond's book is also it's weakness: the damn thing is incredibly meticulous. Which seems like a weird nitpick, I know, but this isn't a book that is predicated on shock value (that is, Sammond isn't mining the most egregiously racist examples of animation) but rather is dedicated to tracing a number of complimentary and related movements to look at how the origins of many cartoon classics are rooted in blackface minstrel tropes (white gloves, exaggerated eyes & mouths, conflict with narrator etc.) and become normalized by the point that the more direct and egregious examples of racist imagery come about the minstrel basis for many favorites is erased. Simultaneously, Sammond wants to trace how the transformation of labor (cartooning as individual craft to artisinal studio to guild system to industrial production) relied on visual shorthand rooted in performance categories audiences would recognize and stories they could follow (hence the reliance on vaudeville and blackface tropes and gags) and an almost exhaustive list of related issues. This is fairly interesting reading (until, in my not so humble opinion, things get kinda derailed in the final section with an extended discussion of contemporary blackface and the relation viz "post racial" ideology and there is a strong lean on Freud for the chapter on the structure of jokes which *shrug* i could take or leave but i at least understand the point) but there is some heavy repetition (i feel like he could accept some points are *made* and his reader understands them rather than, it feels like, copy and pasting full paragraphs and editing them into shorter paragraphs to connect points, i think he could have more faith in his readers).

[Dan · Rating 3 out of 5]

A surprisingly ponderous and slow-moving analysis of blackface forms in early animation history. The main argument is clear and convincing, but the book constantly drifts away into various tangential discussions of production details related to animation history. Lacking a strong sense of structure, it too often becomes repetitive of its quite straightforward central point, without the other threads creating a compelling momentum for the book.

[MH · Rating 3 out of 5]

A dense, academic look at early animated shorts, and their intersections with labor, race, and popular performance, specifically minstrelsy. He has strong sections on the movement of animation from craft to industry, and how this tension is embodied in resistant cartoon characters, on looking at these cartoons through Freud's definition of humor, and on the more overt racism of some of these shorts, but much of his writing on minstrelsy in unconvincing. He uses 'minstrelsy' incredibly broadly - any comic team of a straight man and a fool he sees as indebted to the Interlocutor and Mr. Bones (rather than a comic tradition that goes back to Plautus), he writes that signifiers of minstrel shows include calling an actor a 'ham' or a conductor's white gloves, and he refers to figures as diverse as Burns and Allen or Ko-Ko the Clown as minstrels (although a few hundred pages in he clarifies that Ko-Ko is "performatively" a minstrel - still, I think the giveaway is in his name). Despite the amount of ink he expends on the subject, not all unruly comic figures are minstrels. But his verbosity goes away in his introduction and conclusion, where his writing is snappy and even biting, and his deep readings of labor and rebellion in the animated space are great.

[Evan Ash]

Definitely some intriguing formulations about the relationship between the industrialization of animation and American society but not sure if I buy the overall rather tenuous argument.

[Emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

As other reviewers have already noted, Birth of an Industry is a potentially fantastic book that falters largely because of its sporadic and unclear structure. The book is vaguely chronological, but Sammond also jumps between time periods at various points to support his argument. At the same time, the book is divided into thematic chapters. Because of the sheer vastness of the subject - spanning the history of American animation, historical constructions of race, vaudeville, minstrelsy and the philosophical definition of the comic itself - this mixed method of organising the material is just too loose to provide the reader with the necessary steps to properly follow his argument. At points, Sammond will quote a more modern critic, take a quote from their work illustrating a clearly very complex concept which is phrased ambiguously, and yet fail to give any definition of what he takes this concept to mean, making it hard to follow his line of reasoning when he quickly moves on.

For example, the final chapter (spuriously titled ‘conclusion’ despite being long, introducing new material, and having its own subsection called ‘conclusion’) introduces a whole range of as yet unexplored philosophers and cultural critics which could have been used earlier in the book, but for some reason were only introduced in the final pages. It did become a bit of an infuriating read for me, if I’m honest, because so much technical detail was stuffed into every sentence without any breathing space to properly explore each concept. I could understand this writing style if it was only used when discussing vaudeville or animation history, as perhaps Sammond assumed his readership would have read other books on these topics, but not when he is describing his line of argument.

While I admire Sammond’s ambition in creating an accompanying website (a very useful resource which makes the book more accessible), and the heart of his theory, the book’s structure is too messy for it to be the interesting read that it should be (for me anyway).

[Richard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Should be required reading in Every high school.

This book open my eyes to a lot of racism good night see before reading it. This book tales how racism is ingrained in every part of our society.

[Aaron · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fascinating and useful, but very difficult.

[Peter Shirts · Rating 4 out of 5]

While this book is perhaps longer than necessary, I think every American should be aware of the racist underpinnings of American cartoons and their tropes, which Sammond lays out.

[Manic Booksy Dreamgirl]

The author talks a lot but says quite little. Beyond the basic premise this book doesn't explore much. It's both too long and not focused enough unfortunately.

[Zackary · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the absence of the comprehensive review that this book deserves, I'll just say that this book goes so unbelievably hard. It's wild. BOI is an exceptional model for how one can write exceedingly readable scholarship, and anyone interested in learning more about US American culture would do well to give this a read.