Swing Time Themes
Gender, Identity, and Race
Swing Time is about the narrator’s search for identity. The search is complicated by her perception of her own mixed-race background and of the limitations of gender. At times, the novel explores the relationships between identity and race; at other times, between gender and identity; and at others, the interplay between all three factors.
As a child, the narrator is puzzled and fascinated by the fact that there seem to be Black and white versions of so many aspects of her own life: Shirley Temple and Tracey, herself and her white half-siblings, “white” classical music and the music she loves. She longs for a place where Black and white music combine, just as she wishes to find her own place in the world as a mixed-race child.
As an adult, she encounters the limiting ways in which gender defines one’s identity. She experiences this in her first serious relationship with a boyfriend who believes an elite group of institutions tries to rule the majority of the world yet who expects her to conform to traditional feminine norms. While in West Africa, she sees the village women caring for both children and crops, essentially doing all the work simply because they are the wives and mothers. In this context, her friend Hawa cannot simply be a joyful, well-employed single woman. She must give up her happiness in order to marry.
Race also plays a role in the interplay of gender and identity, as readers see when the narrator’s mother lectures her on how the legacy of slavery has created “ghost men,” Black fathers who are absent in the lives of their children. This legacy, more than any other contributing factor, creates the fast divide between the wildly successful white dancer Aimee and the unsuccessful, self-destructive Black dancer Tracey.
Mothers and Daughters
The mother/daughter relationships in Swing Time are fierce and complicated. The narrator’s mother and Tracey’s mother try to influence their children in different ways. The narrator’s mother pushes education on her daughter as if it is the answer to everything while Tracey’s mother focuses on her daughter’s physical appearance and accomplishments. Yet the narrator rejects her mother’s values while Tracey worships her on-again, off-again father.
At the same time, the influence of the two mothers is strong. Readers never learn whether or not Tracey stole Miss Isabel’s cashboxes, but thanks to her mother, Mr. Booth takes the blame. The narrator’s mother, meanwhile, is a kind of voice in the narrator’s ear advocating the power of good government when she hears Aimee talk about how individuals must effect change if politicians fail them. Although she resents some aspects of her mother’s ideals, the narrator has come to share her worldview to a surprising extent.
Smith also shows through the relationships between the girls and their mothers that the bond is a lasting one. When Tracey perpetuates her mother’s example by having three essentially fatherless children, it is her mother who cares for them. Since the narrator is the one telling the story, her own sometimes bitter quarrels with her mother are better known to the reader. Still, at the end of her mother’s life, the narrator is able to put aside any hard feelings and selflessly reassure her that she was a good parent.
Cultural Appropriation
The use of blackface (white characters darkening their skin to appear Black) in old movies is the narrator’s first introduction to the concept of cultural appropriation. This term describes the attempt of someone who is not of a particular race or group to benefit or profit from using aspects of that group’s culture.
Seeing Fred Astaire and Al Cantor in blackface is an apt preparation for the narrator’s experience working with Aimee. The star takes it on herself to build a school in a West African Muslim village despite knowing nothing about it because “she found her own story universally applicable.” Washington Post reviewer Ron Charles describes this motive as possibly “the most deft articulation of Western arrogance ever written.”
Aimee continues to appropriate aspects of the village’s culture as she prepares for a tour with a West African theme. When the narrator raises doubts about Aimee’s choice of theme, Aimee counters that it’s acceptable to appropriate African dance, music, and fashion because she does it out of love. Aimee considers her own motives to be benign, so she never considers why others would find her actions opportunistic or distasteful.
Though they clearly lack much of Aimee’s privilege, several of the novel’s African characters also engage in arguably appropriative acts. Musa, for example, tells his family to be “new Muslims” even though he can’t even speak Arabic and went to Catholic school. This holier-than-thou attitude irritates Lamin, who criticizes Musa bitterly. Yet Lamin himself embraces his opportunity to escape the village to live in England, arguably exploiting his American and British connections to do so. When Fernando reveals that Lamin has ended up in Birmingham, he quotes Lamin as writing, “It was intended for me to come to Birmingham.” If nothing else, this hypocritical statement lightens the mood between the narrator and Fernando.