The opening lines of Up from Slavery are a subtle example of verbal irony:
I was born a slave on a plantation in Franklin County, Virginia. I am not quite sure of the exact place or exact date of my birth, but at any rate I suspect I must have been born somewhere and at some time.
This is an example of verbal irony because Washington does not merely “suspect” he was “born somewhere and at some time,” but, of course, knows it to be true. His use of irony here is meant to highlight the fact that most people born into slavery do not know the exact time and place of their birth. This is because slaveowners dehumanized enslaved people and did not view their births as deserving of documentation, as well as the fact that most enslaved people did not know how to read or write so could not document such things themselves.
It is noteworthy that Washington opens his book in this way as he is following in the tradition of the “slave narratives” that came before his—so many formerly enslaved people writing about their experience started their stories by sharing the few details they knew about the time and location of their birth that it became a staple of the genre.
Up from Slavery is not a “slave narrative” in the traditional sense—only one chapter is about Washington’s time in slavery and the rest centers on his experiences in the field of education as well as his theories of racial progress—but, in this small way, he honors the legacy of slave narratives as a literary genre.
When Washington's friends offer him and his wife an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe for three months—with the intention of having them rest and enjoy themselves—he is overwhelmed with gratitude and also concern for what will happen to the Tuskegee Institute while he is away. He describes his anxious attempts at resisting this incredible European tour offer, using a metaphor in the process:
I told these Boston friends that, while I thanked them sincerely for their thoughtfulness and generosity, I could not go to Europe, for the reason that the school could not live financially while I was absent. They then informed me that Mr. Henry L. Higginson, and some other good friends who I know do not want their names made public, were then raising a sum of money which would be sufficient to keep the school in operation while I was away. At this point I was compelled to surrender. Every avenue of escape had been closed.
Washington describes his friends metaphorically here, implying that they are like soldiers surrounding him to whom he is “compelled to surrender” since “every avenue of escape had been closed.” This is an example of verbal irony as he does not actually view his friends as forces closing in on him. Quite the opposite—he is aware of the fact that his friends are holding him accountable for taking care of himself. That Washington ultimately accepts their invitation proves that, while he believes hard work is critical to success, rest and vacation are also important.
Near the end of Up from Slavery, Washington receives a letter from Harvard University requesting his presence at that year’s commencement so that the school can grant him an honorary degree. Washington’s reflections on this moment capture the situational irony of a formerly enslaved Black man like himself (who has faced hardship after hardship) receiving a degree from Harvard:
As I sat upon my veranda, with this letter in my hand, tears came into my eyes. My whole former life—my life as a slave on the plantation, my work in the coal-mine, the times when I was without food and clothing, when I made my bed under a sidewalk, my struggles for an education, the trying days I had had at Tuskegee, days when I did not know where to turn for a dollar to continue the work there, the ostracism and sometimes oppression of my race,—all this passed before me and nearly overcame me. I had never sought or cared for what the world calls fame.
In this passage, Washington names all of the factors that could have kept him from getting to this moment: being a former slave, experiencing temporary homelessness, having little access to education, struggling to get the Tuskegee Institute off the ground, facing financial instability, and generally dealing with on-going racial oppression in the United States.
Not only is it ironic that he was able to achieve Harvard-level success despite all that, but—as he notes in the short final sentence—he never even wanted such success. He was not striving for the type of fame that would lead him to receive honorary degrees. He was simply working hard to benefit other Black Americans. Implied in this entire passage is that hard work alone guarantees success, one of the key tenets of his philosophy of racial uplift.
