In Oroonoko by Aphra Behn, the setting apart of the self in order to view the action and otherness is also seen in Robinson Crusoe, in part because of the similarity of first-person narration, although with much less subtlety than Behn produces. This is mostly due to the fact that we are always aware that the narrator is telling his story and there are few chances to get into the perspectives of other characters (partly because there are few others and those that exist are “below” thought and serve only to highlight Robinson’s subjection of them). Still, it is useful to look at the way this narrator, much like Behn’s. tries to construct the same journalistic style, especially in his opening when he verifies that everything we will talk about occurred to him—even going so far as to say, in the first person when he says in one of the introductoryimportant quotes in Robinson Crusoe, “I was born…” in the first sentence of the story. This lending of authenticity might go a little ways in constructing a sort of “narrative reality” for the reader, but it is much easier to overlook Robinson’s biases toward the young Friday, his “servant” with his more fictional narrative stance. There are certain instances, however, in which the line between fiction and reality in the construction of self and other becomes blurred.

To examine this aspect in Oroonoko, one must look at an instance that is similar in both Oroonoko and Robinson Crusoe. Since much of otherness was not only based on race, but on “heathen” versus Christian views, we should note that both narrators undertake “educating” their noble slaves in Christian ideology. Just as Crusoe’s efforts to break down the wall of otherness by being unable to teach Friday what the Devil was and how he functioned in Christianity, Behn’s narrator is equally unable to convince her charge of the importance of Christianity. She states, “But of all the discourses Caesar like the worst, and would never be reconciled with our notions of the Trinity, of which he ever made jest; it was a riddle, he said, would turn his brain to conceive, and one could not make his mind understand what faith was” (27). By making these similar statements through the process of first-person narrative, both narrators are claiming that there is some insurmountable difference in the minds of the whites versus the colored people. Certainly the time period in which these two writers were operating were coded for such beliefs and these same ideas appear inother works about African-Americans from the period, but it is interesting that we are given detailed first-person accounts of these unsuccessful attempts since it shows that each narrator, as heavily invested in Christine doctrine as they seem to be, can never accept these other characters as “self” but that there must be always be something condemning them to the category of other.

Although in Oroonoko, the construction of otherness is based on the lone narrator’s interpretation and recitation of events and perception, it is a different case in Othello. While it seems as though Oroonoko could be a retelling of Othello, in many respects, the main aspects that separate one from the other are the result of narration. On Oroonoko, we are given our accounts through the eyes of a narrator who is clearly enthralled with the exotic. All of her descriptions of the non-white characters are imbued with a sense of wonder and magic and most of the time, these black or Indian characters are never presented without the presence of romantic language. One might easily think that Caesar and his exotic tales have wooed Behn’s narrator and appearance and we find that this theme is repeated in Othello. While never seeming to be surprised by it, Othello recognizes the way his position as “other” offers him opportunities and although at times he may seem reluctant to admit it, he does obviously realize it. This is hinted at when he is states in animportant quotation from “Othello” that, Desmonda’s “father loved me, oft invited me, / Still questioned me the story of my life / From year to year” (I.iii.127–129). Even the men, in either tale, are not immune to the power of the exotic story. For example, in response to Othello’s revelation about how he won Desdemona with his tales of adventure is: “I think this tale would win my daughter too” (I.iii.170). Although he couldn’t quite say (as a man) that we would fall in love as well, he puts the focus on his daughter, but nonetheless, it is clear that the power of the exotic in both texts in clear. There is a strange moment where Othello denies his exoticism, by saying, “Rude am I in my speech, / and little blessed with the soft phrase of peace” (I.iii.81–82) but this seems almost as though its an effort to live up to the expectations of those who accept him as an “other”. Even more oddly, and perhaps as a result of his otherness becoming more apparent to him at the end, he bemoans his fate and uses wording that is more simplified and self-consciously exotic when he says, “Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away/ Richer than all his tribe. It is hard to guess why Shakespeare put such language into the character if not to reinforce his status as an other.

What is perhaps most disturbing about this creation of otherness through narration is the way guilt, crime, and other negative actions are not dealt with in the level of “self” (in this case, in the terms of European ideology) but are handled in terms of otherness. To make this point a little clearer, we should note that in Oroonoko, Behn’s narrator, although constantly suspicious of Caesar, nonetheless feels a great deal of pity for him—even after his brutal murder of his beloved wife. Instead of feeling repulsion over his act, she dotes on him and attempts to justify his actions. While it is not explicitly stated, it seems as though she feels that he, being part of this otherness she’s created for the reader (and presumably herself) is not fit or qualified to be punished by the same standards as “self” or the white authority. Instead, she rationalizes his actions, thus even the reader becomes unconsciously implicit in forgiving him of the brutal slaying. One must wonder, “what if this had been a white character in the book that had committed such an act. Wouldn’t he be subject to white society’s punishments?” That said, throughout the whole of the tale, she often treats Caesar’s character as white—he is treated with respect for the most part and is not subject to the working life of his black counterparts. If this is true, why wasn’t he punished according to European codes (in her mind, anyway)? The only guess to posit is that perhaps his status as “other” coupled—and enhanced by—this biased narration, led to the reader also being able to forgive him. His portrayal is absolutely sympathetic, thus instead of seeing his act as thoroughly criminal, our perceptions are tinged by narration.

We see this same event described above occur in Othello, and although the narrative style is different, we are almost forced to choose the most reasonable character and take their side. Since all characters are essentially speaking in the first-person, we are witness to all parties’ biases and motivations. Although this complicates the analogy of race and Othello and Oroonoko, though the same basic effect is strikingly similar. Othello murders his wife just as Caesar does (although for different ends, of course). Even though the circumstances are different, the reader, due to narration, is inclined to forgive each character. Desmonda, who we are given to sympathize with, forgives Othello and thus the reader is able to as well since it seems much less terrible. Also, we are told by out female narrator in Oroonoko that Imoinda forgave Cesar and even welcomed death by such a “noble hand.” In both of these texts, the reader is forced to judge between the reliability and justification of the beliefs of the narrator(s) and in the case of Othello’s murder, we are compelled to “listen” to the characters that seem the most noble and worthy. In Shakespeare’s work, Desmonda seems to be the most sympathetic character, thus when she forgives Othello for his crime against her, so too does the reader—if only for a moment. Unlike in Oroonoko, we have the option of listening to other voices that call Othello a “Moor” and an “old black ram,” (I.i.88) thus offering the opinion that he is less than human as well as separated by his race. Still, even though these are characters that aren’t fond of Othello and call him names that direct the reader’s attention to his otherness, we are forced to determine which narrative voices to listen to and strangely, the only one that makes sense at the end is Desmonda’s, thus we are inclined to forgive Othello just as she did.

Throughout this construction of otherness through narrative strategies, it is important to point out that even though the exoticism exists, otherness creates a state of isolation, both in the real sense for the characters, but also in the narrative sense. Despite his acceptance, mostly based on the fact that he is “noble” in appearance and demeanor, Caesar is completely isolated. Through the distance of the first person narration—even though we have claims from the narrator that she has spoken directly with the man—Caesar remains completely apart from the reader. We can witness his actions, but there is a middleman and there’s no way to conceive of him completely. In many ways, Othello, despite his acceptance by his society (mostly based on his conformity to European standards thus similar to Caesar as well) is quite as isolated because he does not fit neatly into a category of “self” or other because the narration doesn’t allow for such distinctions. As a bit of a twist on this system outlined in this study, one can also see that because of narration, even though Robinson Crusoe is part of the authority (he is white and European) he has become other, he has, by staying on the island caused himself to fall outside of what his society deems as self, thus making his thought of “I am singled out and separated, as it were, from all the world, to be miserable” (88) just as meaningful as if it were on of his exotic counterpart’s thoughts.

Other essays and articles in the Literature Archives related to this topic include : Perceptions of Race in Othello by Shakespeare   •   Analysis of Clotel: Or, The President’s Daughter  •   Slavery in America’s South : Implications and Effects  •   Black Thunder by Arna Bontemps: Heroes, History, and Narrative  •    Narrative Strategy and the Construction of “Otherness” in Oroonoko by Aphra Behn    •    Slavery in Brazil and The Quilombo at Palmares    •    Freedom, Liberty, and Meaning in the Slave Narrative: Frederick Douglass, Booker T. Washington and Olaudah Equiano