Sunday, March 23, 2014

Baldwin Taught me Binaries

"From a social point of view I am perfectly aware that change from ill-will to good-will, however motivated, however imperfect, however expressed, is better than no change at all. But It is part if the business of the writer-- as I see it--to examine attitudes, to go beneath the surface, to tap the source. " (autobiographical notes, 5)

In Many Thousands gone, Baldwin takes up the argument that Bigger from the novel "Native Son" is a doomed character that fails to convey the true nature of the negro at the time of its writing. It creates a narrative built on vengeance, a novel whose ultimate goal is to present a character who unintentionally reinforces the myth of the negro; the dangerous, monstrous other who will tear apart the fabric of society if kept unchecked; the one who has no tradition but only anger in his heart. Further, Baldwin argues that the novel's culminating ending speech suggests that the negro needs to assimilate, to be "like us" (part of the white dominated society)  to create peace. 

Before reading Baldwin, I would simply counted myself among the liberal men he mentions and hold close the ideal notion that all are created equal and the fight for general equality is as simple as putting a few lines in a punk song and screaming it on stage. I would be screaming those lyrics, and therefore I would be a part of the group who, as Baldwin points out in the following passage, is not like the "others": 

"Though there are whites and blacks among us who hate each other, we will not; there are those who are betrayed by greed, by guilt, by bloodlust, but not we; we will set our faces against them and join hands and walk together into that dazzling future where there will be no white or black. This is the dream of all liberal men, a dream not at all dishonorable, but, nevertheless, a dream (Many Thousands Gone, 44)."
I felt like because I knew that equality was important, the dream was my own reality. It was simple, almost laughably understood. It was easier to understand as a binary rather than really think about it from a human perspective. I think really what Baldwin is getting at here, and why he was so influential to my thinking, is that this sort of social justice perspective relies on binary thinking; that there are evil and good people, and if you align yourself with the good guys things will be wonderful. It relies on the idea that "the battle is elsewhere...it proceeds far from us in the heat and horror and pain of life itself where all men are betrayed by greed and guilt and blood-lust and where no one's hands are clean." Baldwin helped me realize that this way of thinking is indeed easy and unrealistic, if not problematic and damaging. It is one thing to feel for the pain of others, to recognize the cultural privilege leveraged against certain groups of people, but that doesn't mean it is okay to reduce them, their lives, their lived in experience, their culture, to talking points in order to forward an agenda of social equality. 

Of course, this is only one small sliver of the influence Baldwin had on me. This following video illustrates the power of language and how to dig into the roots of words; how the reversal of gaze is important in his delivery of a speech; how performance is important to recognize regardless of intention. 


At the same time, Baldwin always seems to recognize how the writer fits into the role of activism: 

"Leaving aside the considerable question of what relationship precisely the artist bears to the revolutionary, the reality of man as a social being is not his only reality and that artist is strangled who is forced to deal with human beings solely in social terms; and who has, moreover, as Wright had, the necessity thrust upon him of being the representative of some thirteen million people. It is a false responsibility (since writers are not congressman) and impossible, by its nature, of fulfillment. The unlucky shepherd soon finds that, so far from begin able to feed the hungry sheep, he has lost the wherewithal for his own nourishment: having not been allowed -- so fearful was his burden, so present his audience! -- to recreate his own experience (Many Thousands Gone, 33)."
This resonated with me incredibly when I was representing many young people's thoughts and feelings through the power and presence of my band. Many times I would feel torn between attempting to relay my own experience and fulfill the needs of those around me; I felt I had to be the older brother to hundreds of kids every night, every aspect of myself scrutinized in writing, in performance, in interviews. As a band we would even go over talking points and mutually agree on things to say and not say, ways we would interact with others and things we would avoid. By the end it felt so far away from the artistic expression we started with and closer to a set of talking points wrapped in a musical performance. It was almost as if we co-opted ourselves.


These are just a small number of the influences Baldwin has had on me. I could go on forever, but I do want to ask a question. In Take this Hammer, "Baldwin reflects on the racial inequality that African-Americans are forced to confront and at one point tries to lift the morale of a young man by expressing his conviction that: 'There will be a Negro president of this country but it will not be the country that we are sitting in now.'"

Do you feel this is true? I am feeling like it isn't, but instead its buried underneath the ideas that Baldwin raises about assimilation.





No comments:

Post a Comment