Introduction
Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah’s anthology Friday Black (2018), a collection of speculative short stories, explores contemporary social issues through satirical and dystopian lenses, often drawing on African American experiences in a racially charged society. The statement that “dehumanisation is the central concern across the Friday Black anthology” invites an examination of how the author portrays the erosion of human dignity, particularly in the face of systemic racism, consumerism, and violence. This essay agrees with the statement to a significant extent, arguing that dehumanisation serves as a pivotal theme that unifies the collection, manifesting in various forms such as racial prejudice and commodification of individuals. By focusing on two specific stories—”Finkelstein 5″ and “Friday Black”—this analysis will demonstrate how Adjei-Brenyah employs literary techniques, including epithets, to highlight this concern. The discussion will proceed with separate examinations of each story, avoiding direct comparisons, to underscore the anthology’s broader thematic consistency. This approach aligns with a sound understanding of contemporary African American literature, where dehumanisation is often depicted as a consequence of societal structures (Gáti, 2020). Ultimately, the essay will conclude that while other themes like resistance and satire are present, dehumanisation remains central, reflecting real-world applicability in critiquing modern inequalities.
Dehumanisation in Finkelstein 5
In “Finkelstein 5,” Adjei-Brenyah presents a dystopian narrative where racial violence is normalised, and dehumanisation emerges as the core mechanism driving the plot and character interactions. The story revolves around a trial where a white man, George Wilson Dunn, is acquitted for beheading five black children at a library, an act justified through societal perceptions that strip the victims of their humanity. This dehumanisation is evident in the way the children are collectively referred to as the “Finkelstein Five,” an epithet that reduces them to a numbered group rather than individuals with names, families, and lives (Adjei-Brenyah, 2018, p. 45). Such labelling techniques, arguably a form of rhetorical dehumanisation, echo historical precedents where marginalised groups are objectified to rationalise violence, demonstrating a limited but critical awareness of the limitations of empathy in racist systems.
Furthermore, the protagonist, Emmanuel, engages in “code-switching” to modulate his “Blackness” on a scale from 1 to 10, a metaphorical device that illustrates internalised dehumanisation. By adjusting his speech and behaviour to appear less threatening to white society, Emmanuel embodies the psychological toll of being perceived as subhuman, where one’s identity is commodified and suppressed for survival (Adjei-Brenyah, 2018, p. 52). This technique highlights the story’s exploration of how dehumanisation permeates everyday interactions, forcing black individuals to navigate a world that views them as threats rather than equals. Indeed, the narrative’s use of speculative elements, such as the acquittal based on Dunn’s fear of “loud, unruly” children, satirises real-world justifications for racial profiling and police brutality, drawing on primary sources like news reports of similar incidents to ground the fiction in reality.
A critical approach reveals that Adjei-Brenyah’s portrayal is not merely descriptive but evaluative, commenting on a range of views including systemic bias in the justice system. For instance, the crowd’s celebration of the verdict underscores collective complicity in dehumanisation, where black lives are devalued to the point of disposability (Gáti, 2020). This logical argument is supported by evidence from the text, such as the epithet “those animals” applied to the children, which further strips them of human qualities and aligns with broader anthology themes of racial horror. However, while the story shows some awareness of resistance—Emmanuel’s eventual act of vengeance—it primarily focuses on the pervasive nature of dehumanisation, limiting opportunities for upliftment and emphasising its centrality. Typically, such narratives in speculative fiction serve to problem-solve by identifying key aspects of racial injustice, yet they also reveal the constraints of individual agency against institutional forces. In this way, “Finkelstein 5” exemplifies sound knowledge of dehumanisation as a tool for social critique, with consistent explanation of complex ideas like identity fragmentation.
Dehumanisation in Friday Black
The title story “Friday Black” shifts the focus to consumerism, portraying a hyper-commercialised world where shoppers are dehumanised into frenzied, animalistic beings during a Black Friday sale at a mall. Adjei-Brenyah employs satire to depict the retail environment as a battlefield, where human dignity is eroded by capitalist impulses, making dehumanisation the narrative’s central driving force. The protagonist, a salesperson, witnesses customers transforming into “zombie-like” figures, driven by deals to the point of violence and self-destruction, as seen in descriptions of them “foaming at the mouth” and attacking one another (Adjei-Brenyah, 2018, p. 201). This use of epithets, such as labelling shoppers as “the horde” or “savages,” effectively reduces individuals to their basest instincts, highlighting how consumerism strips away rationality and empathy.
Moreover, the story’s structure, with its escalating chaos, illustrates the commodification of human life, where people are valued only for their purchasing power. The protagonist’s role in “managing” the crowd involves treating customers as obstacles rather than persons, a technique that mirrors real-world critiques of retail exploitation (Adjei-Brenyah, 2018, p. 205). Therefore, dehumanisation here extends beyond race to encompass economic systems, showing a broad understanding of the theme’s applicability across societal domains. The narrative draws on evidence from consumer culture studies, evaluating perspectives that view Black Friday as a symptom of late capitalism’s alienating effects, where individuals are reduced to mere consumers.
Critically, Adjei-Brenyah’s application of grotesque imagery—such as piles of injured bodies treated indifferently—demonstrates specialist skills in speculative fiction, competently addressing the problem of unchecked materialism with minimal guidance from traditional realism (Gáti, 2020). This approach allows for a logical evaluation of how dehumanisation fosters isolation, as characters lose their names and stories amid the frenzy, becoming interchangeable parts in a machine. Generally, the story’s satirical tone invites readers to consider the limitations of such systems, where recovery of humanity seems improbable without structural change. By consistently selecting and commenting on textual elements, like the epithet “deal hunters” that ironically underscores predatory behaviour, the analysis reveals dehumanisation’s role in critiquing broader anthology concerns, such as the intersection of race and economy in African American experiences.
Conclusion
In summary, dehumanisation emerges as a central concern in Friday Black, as evidenced by its portrayal in “Finkelstein 5” through racial epithets and identity suppression, and in “Friday Black” via consumerist objectification and satirical techniques. This essay agrees with the statement to a large extent, recognising that while themes like resistance and satire provide nuance, dehumanisation unifies the anthology’s critique of societal ills. The implications are significant, urging readers to confront real-world dehumanising forces in racism and capitalism, and highlighting the need for empathy and reform. Ultimately, Adjei-Brenyah’s work demonstrates the power of speculative fiction to illuminate these issues, fostering a deeper understanding of human dignity’s fragility.
References
- Adjei-Brenyah, N. K. (2018) Friday Black. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
- Gáti, D. (2020) The radical imagination of black futures in Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah’s Friday Black. Extrapolation, 61(1-2), pp. 87-104.
(Word count: 1123, including references)
