Sue E. HOUCHINS and Baltasar FRA-MOLINERO. Black Bride of Christ: Chicaba, an African Nun in Eighteenth-Century Spain. Vanderbilt University Press, 2018. pp. 307. $34.95 pb. ISBN 978-0-8265-2104-0. Reviewed by Adán E. STEVENS-DIAZ. Temple University, Philadelphia, PA. 19122.

Black Bride of Christ: Chicaba, an African Nun in Eighteenth-Century Spain is the first English translation and critical edition of Compendio de la vida ejemplar de la Madre Sor Teresa Juliana de Santo Domigo, first published in 1752 by Father Juan Carlos Pan y Agua (here after, “Paniagua”).The translation begins with of a short preface and a 117-page long introduction in two parts by Sue E. Houchins and Baltasar Fra-Molinero.  They include copious explanatory footnotes.  Establishing the need to view Chicaba’s life through the lens of intertextuality, the first part of their introduction offers historical and social context, while the second part discusses the text. The translation occupies the rest of the book, adding various documents used for context and analysis.

Houchins and Fra-Molinero observe that Chicaba’s Vida follows the form and style of other Vidas, all of which praise heroic virtue, ardent devotion, and silent suffering in flowery prose.  In this Vida, however, the protagonist is an African woman.  Apparently, despite her race she was accepted into a convent as a tertiary, although denied status as a choir nun.  It is not certain when or under what circumstances she learned to read and write, but we do know that this was something not common among slaves and people of low social stature. 

Houchins and Fra-Molinero admit there are few verifiable facts about Chicaba’s native origins and her encounter with Christianity.  Nonetheless, we are told that at age nine, she was taken from West Africa (La Mina Baja del Oro) to São Tomé, a Portuguese-held island off the coast of Cameroon where she was baptized “Teresa.” She arrived in Madrid, Spain, as a slave in the retinue of the second Marquis of Mancera.  Eventually, the last will and testament of the Marchioness (d. 1703) provided that upon her death, Chicaba would gain her freedom, but only if she entered a convent.  After being rejected by other convents because of the color of her skin, Chicaba was received as an aspirant by the Dominicans of la Penintencia in Salamanca.  Renamed “Sor Teresa Juliana de Santo Domingo,” she would live until her death in 1748 as a tertiary member of the Dominican Order. Commenting on the emancipation, the authors note that during Chicaba’s lifetime, it was not common for people of color to be accepted into religious life and even less to be considered worthy of sainthood. In Chicaba’s  case, it is supposed that the text of Father Paniagua presented her as the daughter of an African king in an attempt to make her seem more worthy of her call to holiness. 

This highly interesting analysis and translation offer much food for thought. Houchin and Fra-Molinero point out that the text comes from the pen of  Father Paniagua while also citing Beatríz Ferrus Antón, who identifies Chicaba as “the first Black writer in Spanish,” and the actual author of the text that “was used by Juan Carlos Paniagua to write a hagiography.”  Houchin and Fra-Molinero pursue the question of Chicaba’s role in composing the central text upon which the narrative is based, concluding that “establishing a clear separation between Chicaba’s ‘voice’ and that of Paniagua in her story is not completely possible” (11).  Importantly, they make the claim that like other eighteenth to early twentieth centuries oral narratives of African Americans, this eighteenth-century account of Chicaba’s life reflects resistance to racial oppression.

From the beginning, Houchins and Fra-Molinero acknowledge the challenges presented by translating an eighteenth-century Spanish work they characterize as “verbose, grandiloquent, and elaborate” (xv).  They are also aware that today’s readers “generally consider pejorative some racial markers customarily used in the eighteenth century,” such as negra or negrita. I would note, however, that Houchins and Fra-Molinero may have neglected other sources that relativize the meaning of these words today.  In Puerto Rico, for example, both negra/o and its diminutive negrita/o are often used as terms of endearment devoid of racial connotation. Consider that the contemporary Pedro Pietri ends his poem, “Puerto Rican Obituary”, with the following line: “Aquí[in Puerto Rico] to be called negrito means to be called LOVE.”

Though my own expertise is not in Spanish/English translations,there are other instances where the translation may be in question.  For example, “a Dios corazón,”(236) is translated as “Good-bye, heart,” but in colloquial Spanish, it means “Good-bye, beloved.” On page 237, the original text plays on the meanings of the verb “tener” (to have or to possess), “Pues tan tonta me tiene, cuando te tengo,” The translators render this expression with one word: “giddy.”  They add a long footnote to explain why they failed to reflect the baroque use of language.  Still the expression, might be better rendered as: “When I am with you, I feel besides myself.”

Such observations aside, the summation by the translators aptly captures the importance of the Vida: “[T]his is a story of an African woman who escapes from slavery [and] through the exhibition of her extraordinary holiness, attains a reputation for sanctity and healing, exercises some small power within the religious community that never accepted her in the upper ranks of its social hierarchy, and manages to have her autobiographical writings and oral history recorded.”  We can be thankful to Houchins and Fra-Molinero for reminding us that this is no small accomplishment for any woman in history, most particularly for one who lived part of her life in bondage and the rest as a victim of racial prejudice.  She managed to overcome these circumstances to achieve a singular measure of sanctity.

For those interested in literature, history, religion, Hispanic, Africana and gender studies this volume would present an excellent example of how important contextualization is in unearthing the meaning of dated texts.  Scholars in these fields would most likely not only enjoy a reading of Chicaba’s Vida for what it reveals about this exceptional woman and her times but would find Houchins’ and Fra-Molinero’s analysis telling.