Wednesday, February 26, 2025

Part 4: Whitewashing/Eleanor Dunham

Update (3/2)

Well the thing I'm thinking about--Caroline Hazard and others wrote their own historical accounts of the history of their family. I have their books and their words. And they are often so beautiful and compelling and also misleading, of course. It's notable, and I hadn't thought of this until just now, but it's notable that Caroline Hazard wrote her history about a descendent in her family who didn't hold slaves, even though other members of her family did (i.e. "College Tom"). Anyway, I'm wondering if I could let the descendents' words speak for themselves by quoting them throughout the book and in this way, rather than have an actual Part 4 set in the late 19th or early 20th century, Part 4 or the point of Part 4, would be interspersed throughout the book. These could figure, mostly, as epigraphs at the start of chapters, perhaps. So, for example, this is the epigraph I'm considering for Part 1 of the book, drawn from Caroline Hazards's book: 

The development of small and isolated communities has long furnished a fascinating theme for the historian and the poet. When a community is entirely self sustaining in material things, and independent in intellectual, the old saying might be paraphrased to read "in limitation is strength." Especially was this true in a new country, where the resources of men were taxed to their utmost; and of no part of the new world was this more true than of Rhode Island, and that part of Rhode Island called the Narragansett country. (Caroline Hazard, Thomas Hazard, son of Robt call'd College Tom. A study of life in Narragansett in the XVIIIth century, p. 1-2) 

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That’s a really compelling idea—integrating the whitewashed histories as epigraphs rather than dedicating an entire section to Part 4. It would create a layered effect where the reader is constantly encountering the distorted version of history alongside the actual story you are telling. That could be incredibly powerful.


Strengths of This Approach


✅ Irony and Contrast – By placing these sanitized accounts before chapters that reveal the real history, you force the reader to hold both versions of the past in tension.

✅ Avoids a Didactic Tone – Instead of telling the reader what to think, you let the primary sources do the work—showing rather than explaining how history was manipulated.

✅ Maintains Narrative Momentum – Instead of shifting into a late 19th-century setting for Part 4, this approach keeps the novel tightly focused on its primary historical arcs while still revealing the later revisionism.


Potential Weaknesses / Trade-offs


🔸 Losing a Late-19th Century Character Perspective – If you go this route, you may lose the ability to inhabit the mind of a character like Caroline Hazard or someone similar. Would you regret not dramatizing a historian actively shaping the past to fit a narrative?

🔸 Risk of Being Too Subtle – If the revisionist epigraphs are the only representation of Part 4, will the reader fully grasp their role in shaping public memory? Would there need to be a more explicit moment where you bring this theme fully to the surface?

Alternative Hybrid Approach

You could interweave the false histories through epigraphs while also having a brief but focused section in Part 4 where a historian-character (based on Hazard or another figure) is actively writing this version of history. This would:

 Give one immersive moment of watching history being rewritten in real time.

 Show how these narratives didn’t just appear but were crafted with intention.

 Make the epigraphs feel even heavier because the reader has seen the process behind them.

That’s my pushback: I love the epigraph idea, but would you regret not giving the reader one moment inside the mind of the revisionists? Or is their presence through epigraphs enough to let the reader feel the weight of their deception?

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Also, remind me that I found a passage in the PDF by Caroline Robinson that I was looking at tonight which nicely illustrates how the people I want to write about in Part 4 of the book wrote about their ancestors in a way that avoided truthtelling. Actually, here is the passage:

Few families in Rhode Island have a brighter record than the Hazard family, where, if greatness is not always found, sobriety, honesty, and integrity make even the humblest lives worth studying; and when one finds, as is often the case, a retiring, unpretentious modesty combined with greatness, he must be pardoned for his enthusiastic admiration for the old family tree, that still sends out vigorous shoots after more than two hundred years of growth in America. (The Hazard Family of Rhode Island, p. 2)

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No problem—this is a fascinating passage, and it reveals a deeply intentional act of historical whitewashing. Here’s what I see in it:

1. The Illusion of an Unbroken, Noble Legacy

 “Few families in Rhode Island have a brighter record” → This immediately positions the Hazard family as exceptional and above reproach.

 “Still sends out vigorous shoots after more than two hundred years” → The family is framed as a living, thriving entity, implying continuity, resilience, and legitimacy across generations.

 Why it matters: This type of ancestral mythmaking wasn’t just about nostalgia—it was a way of reinforcing elite status, linking present wealth and power to a supposedly untainted past.

2. The Strategic Use of Qualifiers & Evasive Language

 “Where, if greatness is not always found, sobriety, honesty, and integrity make even the humblest lives worth studying” →

 This is masterfully noncommittal—it subtly concedes that maybe not all members were “great,” but then immediately pivots to framing them as humble and moral instead.

 The focus shifts away from achievements to character traits, suggesting that worthiness isn’t about power or wealth but about righteousness.

 Why it matters: This allows for the omission of any uncomfortable truths—wealth gained through slavery, exploitation, or land theft is reframed as the result of virtue.

3. The Romanticization of “Modesty” & “Greatness”

 “A retiring, unpretentious modesty combined with greatness” → This line is especially telling.

 “Retiring, unpretentious modesty” evokes a myth of humble greatness—the idea that these people were so noble that they didn’t even seek recognition.

 Why it matters: It reinforces the New England myth of moral superiority—unlike the ostentatious Southern planter class, these Northern elites were supposedly quiet, refined, and noble in their virtue.

4. The Erasure of Exploitation & Violence

 What’s not in this passage is just as important as what is:

 No mention of how wealth was acquired.

 No acknowledgment of slavery, land theft, or exploitation.

 Instead, we get sobriety, honesty, integrity, and modesty—a moral inheritance rather than a material one.

 Why it matters: This passage is not just an account of family history—it’s a deliberate act of erasure, replacing economic and social realities with mythic virtues.

How This Could Work in Your Novel

 This passage is a perfect encapsulation of the whitewashing you want to expose in Part 4.

 It’s an act of theft in itself—theft of truth, theft of history, theft of moral clarity.

 It’s a weaponized narrative—a way for later generations to claim moral legitimacy and elite status while burying the past.

 You could have a character in Part 4 (perhaps a descendant writing a “history” or giving a speech) use language exactly like this, reinforcing how the Hazards (or Dunhams) have been consciously shaping their own mythology.


This passage is gold for your novel—it shows exactly how the past was rewritten to serve the present. What do you think? Do you want to use it directly, or do you see ways to fictionalize and expand on this kind of revisionist rhetoric in your novel? 

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