Robinson Crusoe

“At last he lays his head flat upon the ground, close to my foot, and sets my other foot upon his head, as he had done before; and after this made all the signs to me of subjection, servitude, and submission imaginable… I let him know his name should be Friday, which was the day I saved his life: I called him so for the memory of the time.  I likewise taught him to say Master; and then let him know that was to be my name.” - Robinson Crusoe, page 121

 
In Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, Crusoe takes on an indigenous native as a manservant after saving his life from attacking cannibals. After years of living alone on the island, the unexpected introduction of a new man sparks an interesting reaction: rather than treat him as a friend, Robinson Crusoe automatically claims him as his slave. Constructing a power dynamic between them, Crusoe christens him Friday and becomes his master by placing his foot on Friday’s head.

In this small moment, Defoe highlights an understood aggression of dominant culture on a minority, as well as Crusoe’s instinctive desire to suppress anything outside of Western values. He “made [Friday] know his name” with little regards to the one he already has; as if Friday has no true identity before Crusoe saves him, he assimilates seemingly easily to a new lifestyle without any regards to his previous history (121). 

The name as ‘Friday’ is telling in itself, as Crusoe decides on a human male’s name by the day of the week, rather than by personality or some deeper aspect. Friday is barely better than the parrot that Crusoe trains, or the “faithful” cats and dogs that accompany him in the early years on the island (61). Such a meager consideration in naming him angles towards the aforementioned argument by conventionalist Hermogenes. If name identity is so crucial and innate, it could not be handed out as carelessly as Crusoe does. Yet if viewed in the natural sense, the casual name is the greatest insult to Friday, who had an inherent name within him without the help of his white master. Indeed, the erasure and replacement of his indigenous name is a greater sign of his imprisonment than any chain could be. 

In his own adoption of the persona, Friday becomes the obedient savage, eager to learn the ways of his wise owner. Without question, he follows the guidelines of his new lifestyle, and is never seen reflecting on his former existence. When asked if he would return to his cannibalistic ways once reunited with his home country, Friday vehemently denounces his old heathen ways and praises the Christian values (281). At peace with a Western name and a Western practicality, he is prepared to spread his new beliefs. The symbolic renaming – and Christian rebirth – completely alters his self-identity. If Crusoe had allowed him to keep his original name, or even took the time to learn it before the absolute replacement, perhaps the perception of Friday would have been different. In giving Friday a name before his adoption, Defoe might have given him a humanity and equal footing in society. Regardless of argument, both Hermogenes and Cratylus agreed that a proper name gives some innate rights to a person. We view that person as a uniquely labeled individual, and can never separate the name from the body. But since Crusoe named Friday, he becomes a creator-figure, granting a new identity.