Rachel Holmes - African Queen: The Real Life of the Hottentot Venus

And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live?
And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest.

Ezekiel 37:3

The story of Sarah Baartman is the story of the
African people of our country in all their echelons.

President Thabo Mbeki

The rear end exists, I see no reason to be ashamed of it.
It's true that there are rear ends so stupid, so
pretentious, so insignificant, that they're
only good for sitting on.

Josephine Baker

I am a sex-o-matic Venus freak when I'm with you.

Macy Gray

S AARTJIE B AARTMAN was born in South Africa in 1789. Her name is pronounced Saar-key, with a roll on the r. Saartjie is an Afrikaans name and, like her surname, pure creole, the indigenous flowering of a name cross-fertilized by diverse languages and cultures. She may have been given a Khoisan name at birth, but it never entered written historical records. Throughout her short life she referred to herself as Saartjie.

Baartman, inherited from her father, means literally bearded man. Saartjie translates into Little Sara, but the intensity of meanings created by the -tjie suffix is lost in English. In Afrikaans, this suffix makes a diminutive of a noun. The construction derives from Dutch, in which the standard rule for creating a diminutive is to add -tje to a noun. Using the diminutive form of a name in Afrikaans has two different functions. It indicates smaller size, but it is also a powerful way of expressing sentiment. The key emotion expressed by the -tjie diminutive is endearment. Used between friends, family members, lovers, and equals of all classes and races, it is a verbal demonstration of affection and care.

However, because a diminutive reduces the size of what it names, the -tjie suffix has also been used to subordinate and enforce servitude. Deployed in historical contexts where one individual assumed power over anotherwhite to black, master to servant, male to femalethis verbal miniaturizing could express unequal power relations. During the colonial eras and apartheid, the -tjie suffix was often used by whites to indicate contempt, belittlement, and domination over black people. In the politically infused and blood-soaked history of language oppression in South Africa, to mark a person's name with a diminutive became, within this context, a racist speech act.

Saartjie Baartman is South Africa's most famous and revered national icon of the colonial era. As is usually the case with such iconic figures, there is some debate over her proper naming. Saartjie was known by several monikers during her lifetime, including the Christianized Sarah Bartmann.

Today the issue of her proper naming is divided between those who favor the Anglophone Sarah, or Sara, and those who think of her as Saartjie. To some, Sarah, or Sara, is a respectful honorific that distances her from the legacy of racism lingering in the diminutive applied to a tragic figure. For others, Saartjie is the fond evocation of her truest name, which emphasizes her South African heritage. Although sometimes bitterly debated, both positions share the recognition that naming is one of the profound forms of power.

Saartjie was her name in life as she lived it.

AARTJIE B AARTMAN , stage name the Hottentot Venus, emerged from behind a crimson velvet curtain, stepped out onto the three-foot-high stage in pointed green ribboned slippers, and surveyed her audience with a bold stare. Her high cheekbones and dramatic greasepaint and soot makeup gave her a prophetic, enigmatic look. Smoke coiled upwards from the pipe firmly gripped in the corner of her perfect Cupid's-bow mouth, drawing attention to her dimpled cheeks and heart-shaped face. It was a damp autumnal afternoon in London, 1810, and Saartjie was a long, long way from home.

Less than four feet, seven inches in height, she was a diminutive goddess. The springy pelt of her voluminous fur cloak draped from her shoulders to her feet, an African version of the corn gold tresses of Sandro Botticelli's Venus, and every inch of its luxuriant, labial, curled hair was equally suggestive.

Light and dark faces peered back up at her. Saartjie saw their eyes dilate with wonder, then narrow again speculatively, as if uncertain of how to evaluate the vision of an African Venus arising before them, out of the gleaming candlelight and fug of eye-watering smoke from the oil lamps that illuminated the auditorium. Framing Saartjie, the audience could see a small grass hut and painted boards depicting pastoral African scenery and verdant, exotic plants. According to the posters that advertised the recent arrival of the Hottentot Venus in blazing colors and huge printed letters all over central London, these settings depicted the mysterious interior of Africaalthough where exactly that might be, many in the crowd were not sure.

To the audience that gazed up curiously at Saartjie, Venus was simply a synonym for sex; to behold the figure of Venus, or to hear her name, was to be prompted to think about lust, or love. At the same time, the word Hottentot signified all that was strange, disturbing, alien, and possibly, sexually deviant. Some, especially the elite viewers, had heard travelers tales of mysterious Hottentot women, reputed to have enormous buttocks and strangely elongated labia, and to smoke a great deal. And here she was, a fantasy made flesh, tinted gold by the stage light, elevated above them, uniting the full imaginary force of these two powerful words: Hottentot and Venus. Her skintight, skin-colored body stocking clung to her so snugly that it was plain for all to see that she wore no corset, stockings, or drawers beneath. Most shockingly, the luminous ropes of ivory-colored ostrich eggshell beads that cascaded from her neck to her waist failed entirely to conceal her nipples, visible through the thin silken fabric.

The illuminated auditorium enabled Saartjie to see her audience almost as well as they could see her. She observed with great interest two men of distinctive appearance who entered the theater together and gazed up at her in rapt fascination. One was statuesque, hawk nosed, and haughty looking. The other was stocky, with curly hair and twisted features. Though Saartjie did not as yet know who they were, most of England did, and a murmur of recognition rippled through the crowd. The tall, grave-countenanced man was John Kemble, the nation's most famous actor, and the short man was comedian Charles Mathews, celebrated as the best stand-up comic and impersonator in the land.