Also, I'm interested in comparing Django to another recent work that uses the word quite a bit (though not as much as Django) and that the same questions of historical accuracy that Parker is broaching can be applied: Deadwood. I know, from the couple of forums about the show, that several of it's most ardent fans on the board, including myself, are part of this discussion. Now, Deadwood, like Django, is a piece of historical fiction that is very factually accurate on some things, and wildly inaccurate on others. Come the second season, the show starts introducing several black characters, including, foremost amongst them, a character who is known, and refers to himself as, The Nigger General. Deadwood, like Django, is written (mostly) by a verbose maniac (David Milch) who is white.
If you have a problem with Django over it's use of racial invective and historical representation, do you also find the same problems with Deadwood (this isn't a gotcha question, I'm legitamately curious)? What about James Ellroy novels - which while taking place in a different era, still traffic heavily in racial invective, and which likewise use historical accuracy only when it suits them to do so. And which likewise are written by a verbose maniac who is a white man. Are there any other similar comparisons, and if so, are they troublesome for the same reasons as Django?
This is getting to the heart of my point about aesthetics. When guys like Martin Scorsesse or David Simon or David Chase put the word in the mouths of their characters, they're only being true to the chracters, and I don't think anyone could argue against that. Of course Travis Bickle and Paulie Walnuts will use the word: they're racists. Of course Bodie and Striner Bell will use the word, they're inner-city drug dealers. That's just reality.
But when verbose maniacs like Tarantino or Milch or Ellroy use such words, a part of it is about being true to the characters, but a part of it is also trying to find the ugly poetry in the word itself, the same way they're searching for the ugly poetry in all the profanity that they employ. It's an aesthetic mission that goes back to (and probably precedes) Shakespear and which is summed up by Baudelair in his poetry collection The Flowers of Evil, in which he looked for the aesthetic beauty in, well, evil.