{"id":884,"date":"2018-02-14T18:09:38","date_gmt":"2018-02-14T18:09:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/?page_id=884"},"modified":"2018-08-14T16:57:33","modified_gmt":"2018-08-14T16:57:33","slug":"bivins","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/bivins\/","title":{"rendered":"bivins"},"content":{"rendered":"<h1>\n\t\tReflections on Christine Heyrman&#8217;s <i>Southern Cross<\/i><br \/>\n\t<\/h1>\n<h3>\n\t\tJason C. Bivins<br \/>\n\t<\/h3>\n<p>Professor of Religious Studies at North Carolina State University<\/p>\n<ul>\n<li><a href=\"http:\/\/jsreligion.org\">JSR<\/a><\/li>\n<li><a href=\"http:\/\/jsreligion.org\/issues\/vol17\/\">Volume 20<\/a><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<h5>\n\t\tCite this Article<br \/>\n\t<\/h5>\n<p>Jason C. Bivins, &#8220;Reflections on Christine Heyrman&#8217;s <em>Southern Cross<\/em>,&#8221;\u00a0<em>Journal of Southern Religion<\/em> (20) (2018): jsreligion.org\/vol20\/bivins.<\/p>\n<h5>\n\t\tOpen-access license<br \/>\n\t<\/h5>\n<p>This work is licensed <a href=\"http:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by\/3.0\/deed.en_US\">CC-BY<\/a>. You are encouraged to make <a href=\"http:\/\/jsreligion.org\/about-jsr\/policies-and-submissions\/\">free use of this publication<\/a>.<a rel=\"license\" href=\"http:\/\/creativecommons.org\/licenses\/by\/3.0\/deed.en_US\"><br \/>\n  <img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Creative Commons License\" src=\"http:\/\/i.creativecommons.org\/l\/by\/3.0\/80x15.png\"><br \/>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<p>This book is a lamp. I have been reading it periodically, in parts or in whole, for most of its published life. I have taught it to students, and learned from it immeasurably myself. Having the occasion to reread it during this crazed summer, I continue to find new delights in it. Not just the sheer pleasure of reading Heyrman, who is a dazzling writer, nor the exquisite (and often deeply amusing) hooks and anecdotes that pepper each page. The book is a marvel in its continued illumination of new dimensions of American religion, southern culture, and public life more broadly.<\/p>\n<p>For anyone who has read the book, it goes without saying that Heyrman\u2019s command of the archive is off the charts. But beyond diligence and capaciousness of investigation, this work helps us understand the particularities of nascent evangelical ways of viewing the world, and of experiencing that world bodily and emotionally. There are several dimensions to this, as I read the book. First, is what we might think of as the <em>habitus<\/em> of enchantment and demonology. Heyrman devotes a chapter explicitly to this theme, focusing not only on the objects of early evangelical scorn\u2014those lesser others, like the \u201cMadeira-tippling, money-grubbing wastrels\u201d who embodied wrongful clergy\u2014but tracing the ways demonology takes shape through the sobriety\/enthusiasm dynamic that is pervasive in this early tradition. She draws a bead on the fantastical, demon-haunted imaginary that\u2019s always here. And indeed, when we read about Glendinning, we are tempted to think about the possible centrality of demonology to far more than evangelicalism alone: the \u201cspooky spectacles\u201d are those of the demos itself, a larger Freudian <em>fort-da<\/em> at the heart of public conceptions of citizenship, no mere remainder from the purported triumph of reason but evidence of how each new America is always also Greil Marcus\u2019s \u201cold, weird America.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Heyrman also shows us not merely how central gender and race were to the fashioning of evangelical selves, but how these categories cannot be understood without attending to the tightly woven relation between sentimentality and exoticism. And we can, in some sense, see all the different dimensions of her understanding at work in the outrageously compelling Mary MacDonald anecdote that opens the book, surely one of the very liveliest openings to a work of American religious history (and one that I use in my classes, year after year after year). But Heyrman\u2019s analysis of gender extends beyond domesticity and the feminine to take in the cultivation of sentimental attachments fundamental to itinerancy itself, where the evangelist is an object of desire and also a confirmation of our <em>own<\/em> (possibly dangerous, possibly gendered) desires. What\u2019s more, her focus on the complexities of mastery and manliness is truly rich, ranging from the ruggedness of John Brooks (who intimidated one fellow so much that he is said to have escaped up a chimney) and the gendered critique of certain preacherly enthusiasms (e.g., Dougherty\u2019s \u201clady\u201d voice and Asbury\u2019s long lashes). Heyrman is equally subtle in her reading of race. For however compelling and undeniable is the American fear\/fascination in the face of race and the \u201cexotic,\u201d Heyrman links it to evangelical confessional impulses in ways that provoke us to associate race-talk, and perhaps Other-ing more broadly, with the American therapeutic, the inverse (or the deflection) of the demonological obsession.<\/p>\n<p>There is also, of course, the rich treatment of bodily enthusiasm and emotions in <em>Southern Cross<\/em>. Before Ann Taves\u2019s equally marvelous <em>Fits, Trances, and Visions<\/em>, Heyrman traced the agonisms of the evangelical body and performance. What I find so enriching about this treatment, though, is the elegant way Heyrman suggests that these debates about religious expression are simultaneously debates about liberal persons and citizenship. If doubt, wonder, and witness make for a history and an identity, then being seen\u2014with all its controversies over expression and enthusiasm\u2014is part of constituting a public will. It is utterly fascinating that questions of theology, praxis, and religious style are being worked out not just simultaneously to those of public life and national identity but in conversation with them. Behind the all-American theme of citizens \u201ctouting their peculiarities as superiorities,\u201d Heyrman directs us to see the fear of popular power behind many of these stylistic, performative anxieties. The crafting of spheres for performance, domesticity, and race, then, was essential to the formation of liberalism\u2019s institutional and emotional regimes.<\/p>\n<p>Finally, perhaps the largest and most lamp-like implication of Heyrman\u2019s text is providing us a window into a vivid historical moment during which very different groups of Americans strove to create \u201creligion\u201d over and against enthusiasm, magic, and diabolism. That very enchanted quality to things American\u2014which Cotton Mather knew, though invisible, and which Francis Asbury sensed as a power that moved in competing moral currents\u2014was what made possible the performative, emotional thrills of the new evangelical idiom, drawing on sources at the boundaries of respectability and the salvific. Dreams, visions, visitations, and ecstasies spilled over what extant authorities could control, and thus unsettled the boundaries of religion. Yet, this was the boiling, bodily work that pointed not to the rejection of the category but its refashioning.<\/p>\n<p>Like the very best academic work, there is the text itself\u2014abundant, admirable, creative, compelling\u2014but also the worlds of thinking into which the text delivers us. The first time I read this book, the southern roots of my father\u2019s side came alive in my imagination and I understood my family and their region a bit better. In all my subsequent readings, including this summer\u2019s, I came also to understand better the region in which I\u2019ve lived since 2000. The book\u2019s deep historical, and theological nuance evokes a roiling rather than a temperate past, filled not just with demons contesting the devout but multiple and competing Christianities. It is a typology of early evangelicalism, a compendium of interiority, and a record of religious domesticity and emergent publics. Flannery O\u2019Connor once attested, \u201cIt is the business of the artist to uncover the strangeness of truth.\u201d Heyrman\u2019s book does that, too.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Reflections on Christine Heyrman&#8217;s Southern Cross Jason C. Bivins Professor of Religious Studies at North Carolina State University JSR Volume 20 Cite this Article Jason C. Bivins, &#8220;Reflections on Christine Heyrman&#8217;s Southern Cross,&#8221;\u00a0Journal of Southern Religion (20) (2018): jsreligion.org\/vol20\/bivins. Open-access license This work is licensed CC-BY. You are encouraged to make free use of this&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":101018,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-884","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/884","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/101018"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=884"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/884\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":935,"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/884\/revisions\/935"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jsreligion.org\/vol20\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=884"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}