"One of the most promising of the young Negro poets said to me once, "I want to be a poet--not a Negro poet," meaning, I believe, "I want to write like a white poet"; meaning subconsciously, "I would like to be a white poet"; meaning behind that, "I would like to be white." And I was sorry the young man said that, for no great poet has ever been afraid of being himself. And I doubted then that, with his desire to run away spiritually from his race, this boy would ever be a great poet. But this is the mountain standing in the way of any true Negro art in America--this urge within the race toward whiteness, the desire to pour racial individuality into the mold of American standardization, and to be as little Negro and as much American as possible." (The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain)
** Langston Hughes wrote this article, "The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain", for the June 1926 issue of The Nation.
Langston Hughes argues that in order to be a great poet, one mustn't escape his identity, and that it isn't appropriate to distinguish oneself from one's color. If an artist does not acknowledge himself as being a Negro first and foremost, he denies a part of himself, and therefore denies his identity. This piece was my first introduction to Langston Hughes, and to this day I'm not quite sure I can buy what he says. I want to note, too, that this piece was written as a direct answer to George Schuyler, who wrote that an African American artist should compose work as an American, not an African American.
1. How should the Negro writer present himself to the public? Should he, like Langston Hughes, declare himself as being Negro before being a writer, or should one take Schuyler's route and declare himself a writer before a Negro?
I Thought It Was Tangiers I Wanted
1. What is the difference in tone when Hughes writes "I know now" (in the first 4 stanzas) verses "I thought" (in stanza 5)? There is a differentiation here between the act of thinking and the act of knowing, yes? While he travels and experiences, he notes that what he once thought he wanted is not quite true anymore.
2. As Michael Fabre discusses in his article (Langston Hughes and Alain Locke: Jazz in Montemarte and African Art), Hughes' first connection to France was being able to understand Guy de Maupassant & Alexandre Dumas, and first discovering his love for writing. How can this help us take on a different reading of the poem other than being happy with oneself? Is it fair to say that Hughes becomes disillusioned by the reality of this new environment?
Jazz Band in a Parisian Cabaret
1. In this poem, jazz becomes something which has the power to link. Jazz is not meant for one group to enjoy, but instead, it has this almost powerful force of creating unity. But is this unifier only able to work in France? Could Jazz in America have the same effect?
Like yourself, I have never been convinced of the necessity of identifying oneself first on the basis of race, as it is merely one of many facets upon which one constructs an identity. By that same logic one might argue that it is necessary to self-identify as a female artist or a gay musician. All of these labels are merely different ways of categorizing people, which may be important for historians, professors, and ethnographers, but have nothing to do with the muse of creativity.
ReplyDeleteDuring times of struggle such as in the midst of the Civil Rights movement, one can certainly understand the importance of being able to claim such luminaries as Paul Robeson and Marian Anderson as several of "our own." Yet Marian Anderson was not terribly interested in politics, she just wanted to sing and let the exquisite beauty of her voice do the talking for her. And Paul Robeson who saw the plight of the Soviets under Communism as comparable to that of the American Negro was abandoned by the NAACP when he needed them most.
It seems to me that if a particular aspect of ones makeup inspires creativity more than others, it may be entirely appropriate to identify with it. However, I don't recognize the authority of a Langston Hughes (or anyone else for that matter) to dictate to an artist how he or she should be identified. To this day people take issue with Tiger Woods because he does not identify any more with the part of his makeup that is black than with the other parts. And we all know that President Obama is too black for some, yet not black enough for others. Personally, I couldn't care less whether Woods, Obama, Derek Jeter, or Vanessa Williams consider themselves black, white, biracial, or something else. Woods and Jeter are undeniably great athletes, Williams is a talented actress and singer, and Obama managed to bring blacks and whites together in an outpouring of hope and excitement on the night of his election. That's more than enough for me.
I thought I'd share this link, it has a 1963 radio interview with Langston Hughes
ReplyDeletehttp://markbey.wordpress.com/2007/11/08/the-audio-recording-of-the-big-sea-langston-hughes/
I wanted to respond to the question on "Jazz band in a Parisian Cabaret": I believe the power of jazz to unify may have had a greater influence in Paris since it was a hub that drew in people from several countries, as Hughes alludes to the various languages that the patrons may speak, English, French, German, Spanish, etc. The various languages spoken does not create a barrier amongst the patrons, rather, the music has the intoxicating effect to bring together people of various backgrounds, "dukes and counts... whores and gigolos" etc.
ReplyDeleteThe line that stuck out to me in my first reading was, "You've got seven languages to speak in / And then some" because jazz is not a language one has to know to enjoy. The "seven languages" that jazz can "speak in" is its ability to communicate to its patrons and bring them all together on the dance floor (at least that's how I imagine it). The "seven languages" may not only be referring to the different languages spoken, but also the class differences amongst the people mingling with one another. Jazz has the unique ability to connect people from various backgrounds since music is language all its own. Regardless of the language one may communicate in, jazz can be a unifying force that is able to communicate across any language, or class, barrier that may otherwise exist during the daytime.
Re: Question #1 on "I Thought It Was Tangiers I Wanted"
ReplyDeleteInteresting question, Marianna. I'm bummed this didn't get discussed as much.
It would seem, in terms of the poem, that the question of knowledge and thought when confronted with changed notions is a fluid one, and while that may seem like an easy way of getting out of proclaiming an absolute, I think the poet may feel the same way.
What isn't easy to get around in this poem is the absence of what the poet "knew" before his travels, as opposed to what he "know[s] now." We can be certain that he "thought" he wanted Tangiers, perhaps as a travel destination or perhaps as an idealized geography. The more he moves, however, the more he seems to change his mind about his staid notions.
Relating this to theme, I could see how this is a poem about different stages of being worldly as it relates to the thought process of a globalized, media linked world. Consider how, through the first few stanzas, what he knows about these places -- Gargoyles in Paris, a Crystal Palace in Antwerp, "Venice is a church dome" -- whittles them do in a near essentializing way. That isn't to say Hughes is culturally essentialist, but that his attitude is familiar as that of an American tourist when asked to comment about their trips abroad: "Oh, sure, Paris -- saw the Gargoyles! I also checked out all these amazing churches in Venice. It was really cool."
Paris and the bulk of European cities are obviously more complex than their staple tourist attractions, but Hughes seems interested in celebrating the surface level, the American perception of European culture. Then, by the time the poem is over and he's stated his proverb ("Happiness lies within"), he's carried towards the revelation of being at home in multiple environments, but more precisely in classically European environments. It's a celebration of the vagabond and not of the environment he frequents.
But, since the knowledge he's attaining in travel is fluid, its possible that he'll have another "Tangiers-sized" revelation and find a different muse. The poem seems cyclical in that way. It finds a young, vagabond poet in the cycle of worldly inspiration, content never to put his down his suitcase. Except, there is the sad absent streak of his inevitable return to the American frontlines.