Final Post

"Why is studying the Harlem Renaissance still worthwhile in the 21st century?"

When I saw that Harlem Renaissance Literature was on my schedule for my first semester of college, I was pretty content with what I believe would be a class filled with information I'd already learned. Several of my English classes during high school had done units on this movement, and I figured that I knew the basics already. Now, after completing the course, I realize that, literally, ALL I knew was the basics. From the time I have spent learning about the art, literature, music, stories, culture, drama, and politics of this time period, my mind has been greatly expanded on all things regarding the Harlem Renaissance. Up until this course, I simply thought of the Harlem Renaissance as a time period where Langston Hughes wrote a lot of poetry and jazz music started to become popular. However, from immersing myself in the atmosphere of the Harlem Renaissance, I've learned that this movement was a time when the African-American culture struggled to find identity, and also a time for all kinds of Americans to read the thoughts of African-Americans, deriving their expressions, personalities, styles, and personal stories.

Much of the Harlem Renaissance was centered around struggles for artists and writers: struggling to overcome challenges and be accepted by blacks and whites alike and struggling to escape the painful memories of slavery. I imagine that some individuals would argue that the Harlem Renaissance, because of its ties to slavery -- like the Holocaust -- has so much struggle and pain associated with it that it isn't worth studying and rehashing over and over. However, I truly believe that the only way to avoid having history repeat itself is to continue to study it, and learn from our mistakes. The Harlem Renaissance was the first emergence of African-American culture in American society, and the recognition that was eventually gained by the artists, poets, and performers of the Harlem Renaissance helped countless culturally-minded thinkers of all races make advancements in the future.

From this class, I've drawn a strong conclusion that the Harlem Renaissance was an invaluable part of American history, setting the spark for African-American artistic expression. Halting the study of the Harlem Renaissance would be like trying to deny a chunk of America's heritage.

Their Eyes Were Watching God, Pt. 3

Since the beginning of this novel, I've been wondering about the meaning of the novel's title. Until a direct mention on page 160, where Hurston writes, "The wind came back with triple fury, and put out the light for the last time. They sat in company with the others in other shanties, their eyes straining against crude walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny might against His. They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God," (160).

In my opinion, there are two particularly striking words in the title, one of which is, "Their." In a novel focusing primarily on the life process of an individual, Janie. However, the novel is also about the influences of community and unity, and how the presence and opinions of others affects Janie as she progresses through her life. At the particular part of the novel where the title is referenced, Janie, Tea Cake, and Motor Boat are working together in an attempt to overcome the "triple fury" of the hurricane attacking the Everglades. For one of the first and only times in the novel, Janie's very existence is crucial to her ability to utilize the community around her. And while, because of their togetherness, all three survive the hurricane, Hurston's use of the word "their" seems fragile and short-lived when Janie is forced to kill her husband.

The second word that jumped out at me was "God." Throughout the course of this novel, Hurston doesn't portray the protagonist, Janie, as a religious individual. Really, the only definition of God comes when the reader is introduced to the character of Ms. Turner, a very conservative and racially driven individual who equates God with suffering. Other than that, God and religion aren't mentioned much at all in the novel; perhaps because Janie is on a voyage of self-discovery, not religious discovery. However, Janie's life has been full of suffering, arguably allowing her to achieve a connection with Ms. Turner's version of God.

I guess that I still cannot pinpoint the direct meaning of the novel's title. However, much of Hurston's writing is ambigious, and therefore, the title is probably up for open interpretation.

Any other ideas?

Their Eyes Were Watching God, Pt. 2

I'll just start off by saying that the more I read in this novel, the easier it is for me to read the dialect fluently. When we first started reading Hurston's novel, each page took me approximately three times longer to read than a normal page of text. However, now when I read, I find that I'm sort of in the mindset of the southern, black dialect and I understand almost everything that the characters are saying.

Secondly, I'm experiencing VERY mixed feelings about the presence of Tea Cake in Janie's life. I think that I've become fairly attached to Janie, and this surprises me because she isn't necessarily the kind of character I connect to in novels -- sometimes when I don't agree with the decisions characters make, it is hard for me to empathize with them, but I feel a special bond with Janie. Anyway, as I read, I feel like I AM Phoeby, and that Janie is telling her story to me, which is why I have so much apprehension about her new marriage to Tea Cake. By the time Janie meets him, she is already in the process of defining herself as an individual, separate from the controlling natures of her last two husbands. Janie had progressed to the point where she could make decisions about when to close and open the store, and was regaining the sense of freedom and individuality that she possessed when she was younger. It really seemed like she didn't need another man in her life, but, naturally, the young, handsome Tea Cake comes along and charms his way into her life. I guess at this point in their relationship, I sort of have a pro/con list about Tea Cake, so that, if Janie asked me, I would be able to tell her my thoughts:

Pro
-Tea Cake is pretty open-minded and progressive...he believes that women should be able to do all the same activities as men. In fact, he goes so far as to teach Janie how to play checkers and says, "you gointuh be uh good player too, after a while" (96).
-Tea Cake encourages Janie to express her feminine side whenever she wants to. Jody made her tie up her beautiful, long hair, but Tea Cake does not appear to be intimidated by her beauty.
-Generally, Tea Cake seems to have a true love for Janie, proclaiming that her age doesn't matter and that he would never cheat.

Con
-He DOES cheat, sort of. I'm not exactly sure what happened with Nunkie out in the fields in chapter 15 -- it wasn't really cheating, but it definitely was suspicious.
-Tea Cake steals from Janie! He justified stealing with a big story, and Janie didn't seem upset. This really surprised me and made me wonder if, in a way, Tea Cake is breaking her down without Janie realizing it.
-I'm still curious about his true intentions with Janie -- even if Tea Cake says he doesn't care about her age, I think he might still be after her money.

Of course, Janie isn't going to ask ME for advice about this, but I wish that Phoeby had stepped in and tried to be more convincing than she was in the novel. I just get a bad feeling about Tea Cake because Janie seems to have a life pattern of unhealthy, viral relationships. We will see as we read on...

Their Eyes Were Watching God, Pt. 1

First of all, I'll just start off by saying that, so far, this novel is unlike anything else I've ever read. During my junior year of high school, my English class read and analyzed Toni Morrison's Beloved, and her novel, Sula, was one of the texts that I used for my AP Lit test last year. I thought those were difficult to approach, but Hurston's novel is on an entirely different level of complication. The essential plot line thus far is not confusing, but the surrounding narrative and -- especially -- the black vernacular lead the reader astray from what could be a simplistic plot line.

Some of Hurston's word choices and the imagery she paints reminds me of scenes directly out of Toomer's Cane. Just like Toomer, Hurston paints beautiful images of the lazy, lush Southern landscape, and, in a very dichotic nature, pairs these images with anecdotes of trauma and pain. The events in chapter two pose a perfect example of this. As the chapter opens, Janie is pondering questions of love and marriage while relaxing under a pear tree. Hurston describes the beauty of the tree and of the outdoor nature in detail, writing, "she was...soaking in the alto chant of the visiting bees, the gold of the sun and the panting breath of the breeze when the inaudible voice of it all came to her" (11). Hurston goes on to use phrases like, "love embrace and...ecstatic shiver of the tree," and describes the setting as "a revelation" (11). For the next page, Janie simply basks in the beauty of rural Florida, and the reader feels a very positive, warm vibe from the narrator's diction.

However, suddenly, the tone and message of the novel take a sharp twist as Nanny scolds Janie for kissing Johnny Taylor on the street. Nanny launches into the story of Janie's mother's downfall in life, and a dark shadow seems to pass over the chapter. Nanny shares anecdotes of abuse and rape, and how these hardships penetrate generations, continuing to cause pain.

Hurston's ability to show such a contrast in a small portion of the novel really stood out to me. At times, her writing style models that of Toomer (especially when she describes the beauty of the South), and at other times, her darker topics remind me some of McKay/Cullen's more serious topics. Although every single page of this novel takes me a little longer to read because of the black dialect, I'm fascinated by Hurston's writing style. I'm interested to see where the novel goes next.

Quick prediction: The tree that Hurston describes seems to be a developing theme related to Janie's life and development emotionally and sexually. I wonder if the tree motif will continue to appear as the novel progresses?

Langston Hughes

While reading Hughes' poetry, I found myself stumbling upon an abundance of connections to other pieces of literature. One particularly interesting connection came to me while I was re-reading "Mother to Son" on page 30.

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now --
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

In this poem, an older mother discusses the difficult life she's had, describing her life-long struggles as a winding, twisty staircase, but not a crystal one. Rather, the staircase "had tacks in it,/And splinters,/And boards torn up,/And places with no carpet on the floor -/Bare." Speaking in a "Negro dialect," she encourages her son not to give up or "turn back," and not allow the hardships that he may go through to changes his hopes and dreams.

The poem reminded me a lot of "The Heritage" from The Brownies' Book, because this poem shared the same kind of message, and possessed a similar tone and diction. Both the mother in this story and Mother Mason from The Brownies' Book send young adults the same advice: stay focused and motivated and take advantage of all the opportunities in their lives, which their parents and grandparents didn't necessarily have access to. I think that both this poem and the "The Heritage" are more than simple reminders to African American children to stay in school or keep dreams in sight. I actually view both of the mothers as a collective voice -- the voices of many mother, fathers, grandmothers, and grandfathers -- representing numerous generations who's slave lives were "no crystal stair." Both this poem and the story from The Brownies' Book are definite motivators for youth.

This is one of Hughes' earlier poems, and I wonder how much time he had spent, at this point in his life, pondering over what kind of a poet he was going to be? Even some of Countee Cullen's poems are centered around his confusion over race representation, and therefore often addressed him questioning himself as a man, as a poet, as a black, male, poet. However, Hughes' poems, so far, seem much lighter than that. Often, they do not even specifically focus on "the race question." I'm wondering if these subjects will change at all as we read further into his anthology of poetry.

Countee Cullen

First of all, I'd like to open with this thought: the poems of Countee Cullen are, as we discussed in class, a bit more rigid and traditional in form. However, in my opinion, they are some of the most emotionally loaded poems that we've addressed so far, because Cullen seems to have so much saddness and anger that comes across in the stories he tells. Out of all the poems we read in this packet, "Incident" stood out most. In fact, I found myself coming back to the poem's story over and over again because it was just so tragically beautiful. I will post it here, just in case anyone doesn't remember the poem.

Incident

Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, "Nigger."

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December;
Of all the things that happened there
That's all that I remember.

This poem addresses a problem on two different levels, and I would like to examine both of them briefly. First of all, the very obvious problem this touches on is the effect that racism has on young children affected by it. I view this poem as a sort of testimony to the long-lasting effects of racism. Cullen points out that racist names and jokes were thrown around, and that it was not uncommon to hear "nigger" ringing through the streets. The poem is not adorned with poetric elements -- rather it is fairly straight-forward, and I believe that Cullen follows a traditional structural form intentionally. The straight-foward nature of the poem makes the little boy's story both blunt and poignent at the same time. I know that their stories are not EXACLTY the same, but the little boy in "Incident" reminds me of Ruby Bridges and all of the rude, blatantly racist comments made to her when she tried to do something very common: walk from her home to her first day of elementary school. I imagine that the comments made to Ruby stuck with her more than anything she ever learned in school.

Secondly, on a bit deeper level, I think Cullen's poem transcends racism, and communicates how any feelings of hatred last more than feelings of happiness. I feel like this is a poem that everyone, race aside, can connect to. Personally, I can recall the time when a girl who I thought was my best friend tell me that I was fat on the playground in approximately second grade. I don't remember anything else that happened in our friendship except that. I'm sure that many people can think of a similar situation where all that sticks out in their mind is the negative aspect.

I think that if I were in the position of the speaker, "nigger" would be the only thing I could remember, too.

The Brownies' Book

Before "The Brownies' Book" began circulating as a publication aimed towards black children, images like these were the only ones present in children's literature:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/54/Golliwogg2.jpg

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/49/LittleBlackSamboCover.jpg

and writing like this stereotyped and cast shame on black children:

"Ten Little Niggers"

Ten Little Nigger Boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self, and then there were Nine.
Nine Little Nigger Boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself, and then there were Eight.
Eight Little Nigger Boys traveling in Devon;
One said he'd stay there, and then there were Seven.
Seven Little Nigger Boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves, and then there were Six.
Six Little Nigger Boys playing with a hive;
A Bumble-Bee stung one, and then there were Five.
Five Little Nigger Boys going in for Law;
One got in Chancery, and then there were Four.
Four Little Nigger Boys going out to Sea;
A Red Herring swallowed one, and then there were Three.
Three Little Nigger Boys walking in the Zoo;
The big Bear hugged one, and then there were Two;
Two Little Nigger Boys sitting in the Sun;
One got frizzled up, and then there was One.
One Little Nigger Boy living all alone;
He got married, and then there were None.

Obviously, the market for children's literature provided an extremely distorted, filled with prejudiced, stereotyped stories of "bad" or "naughty" black children. As we learned about in the first half of the semester (especially in the film "Ethnic Notions"), books and magazines were riddled with caricatures of Little Black Sambo, Pickaninnies, and Golliwoggs. So far, our readings have only focused on the negative portrayals of blacks and how these negative portrayals continued to haunt the race, being perpetuated in different mediums. I began to feel like we would never hear about positive portrayals of blacks and black children in literature, but "The Brownies' Book" changes this, showing black children as heroes and heroines, as confident individuals, and as educated individuals.

In my opinion, one of the most striking pieces in "The Brownies' Book," was "The Heritage," by Blanche Lynn Patterson. It tells the story of a young woman named Julia who is working long, difficult hours to put herself through school. The reader is never told the specific grade level, but I assumed that Julia was in college. She visits with an older mother figured named Mother Mason who reminds Julia that by getting an education she is fulfilling the hopes of two uneducated generations before her. In the conclusion of the short story, Julia says, "Oh, I am so glad you told me. I might have given up and been a failure and disappointment. Now I have something to work for, and I'll keep on, Mother Mason. I'll keep on!"

Now, on one hand, I see the obvious positive message being sent by this piece. "The Brownies' Book," does an excellent job encouraging students to stay in school and combat any societal norms holding them back from achieving their goals. However, I was shocked by the fact that, in a magazine calling itself positive and progressive, geared towards the advancement of the black race, the character of Mother Mason STILL played the part of a Mammy caricature. She speaks in a thick "negro" dialect, with phrases like, "ain't nothin'," "jest" instead of "just," and "Why, chile!" This is something I simply do not understand. By including an uneducated, struggling black figure, the magazine perpetuates negative black stereotypes that the magazine promised NOT to include. I think it is sad that the negative black caricatures were so deeply rooted in culture that even a magazine emphasizing the successes of blacks clings to these stereotypes.

Passing, Entry One

One of the most striking parts of this weekend's reading, in my opinion, was found on page 75 of "Passing." Nella Larsen writes of Irene Redfield, "...mingled with her disbelief and resentment was another feeling, a question. Why hadn't she spoken that day? Why, in the face of Bellew's ignorant hate and aversion, she had concealed her own origin? Why had she allowed him to make his assertions and express his misconceptions undisputed? Why, simply because of Clare Kendry, who had exposed her to such torment, had she failed to take up the defence of the race to which she belonged?"

Obviously, the majority of Larsen's novel can be compared to "Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man" because the two pieces have such similar subjects and present so many of the same questions to the reader. I found myself agreeing with many of the questions that Irene Redfield asked herself, and also thinking that they were questions the Narrator might have asked himself. I do realize that Irene was a black woman passing for a white woman, and therefore had virtually no "right," at this point historically, to voice her feelings regardless of the situation. However, her justifications for not speaking out against the blatantly racist John Bellew all seem to revolve around concerns for causing discomfort or inappropriateness in the home of her so-called "friend," Clare Kendry. However, shortly after leaving Clare's home, Irene refocuses herself and comes to the realization that she never wants Clare in her life again, and that it was a mistake to let herself to to Clare's house in the first place. Clearly, their relationship is strained and, at least by the end of the section we were assigned to read, it is clear that Irene has very little interest in pursuing a friendship with Clare. Why then, is she afraid to speak out in Clare's home? If she simply revealed herself as being an individual "passing," she wouldn't necessarily need to reveal that Clare was doing the same. I imagine that if she did this, Mr. Bellew would be so disgusted that Irene wouldn't be allowed in his household anymore, eliminating Irene's challenge of maintaining a friendship with his wife. That is all theoretical, of course, but I think it would have saved Irene future irritations with Clare.

However... as we briefly mentioned in class, there appears to be some sort of underlying homosexual tones in this novel, which is perhaps a reason why Irene cannot completely let go of Clare. Even in the footnotes, Irene's observation that she felt "...something else for which should could find no name," this sentiment is connected to Oscar Wilde's homosexual relationship with Lord Douglas. Perhaps this is why Irene wants to say goodbye, but has a subconscious need to stay connected to Clare?

In general, there seem to be a lot of unanswered questions, and we're already more than halfway into the novel. Hopefully, discussions in class this week can help us start to piece together why Irene is afraid to defend her own race, and if and how she feels a connection to Clare Kendry.

"Ethnic Notions"

This movie-documentary was extremely eye-opening for me. Even though all of our readings, I never really paused to think about the impact that black cultural stereotypes continue to have on our society today. Occasionally, while grocery shopping, I've looked at a bottle of Aunt Jemima's syrup and wondered why the manufacturers didn't just find a new way to market their product, but my thought process pretty much ended there. Now, after reading Jessie Fauset's "Gift of Laughter" and especially after listening to the commentary and watching the images shown in "Ethnic Nations," I strongly agree with the idea that popular black stereotyped images have a very harmful effect in the modern day world.

One statement that particularly struck a chord with me was addressed in "Ethnic Notions." One of the commentators explained that because so many black stereotypes, including "Sambo," "Mammy," and "Uncle" were consistently depicted as jolly, "docile, laughing," and at ease with their life, whites began to believe this incorrect depiction as true. Most specifically, whites who lived in towns with no black citizens came to fully believe that slaves were happy being slaves. In turn, this twisted idea has survived time, and therefore the roles of these so-called "happily obedient" slave figures continue to be perpetuated in literature and entertainment.

"Gimme a Break" was a television sitcom that I used to watch in re-runs a few years ago (I don't think it is even re-run, anymore). Until we watched the movie "Ethnic Nations" in class, I really had no idea that the entire plot of the sitcom revolves around a "Mammy" caricature. The main character, Nell, played by the actress Nell Carter, is the absolute prototypical "Mammy." She is African American, overweight, and very sassy, and happily plays the live-in housekeeper to a white family. This television show aired in the mid-eighties, and I can't help but wonder if the show's producers ever sat down and thought to themselves, "By placing this prominent African American actress in a degrading role, we are causing her entire race to take large steps backwards." I have to think that, like so many other forms of entertainment today which still place blacks (perhaps unknowingly or without intention) in positions that do not give their race a sense of pride, they never stopped to think.

So much reading!

Because we had so many different readings to complete for tomorrow's class, I decided to focus this blog on one very specific aspect of our reading that caused me to do a lot of questioning. I thought that the poem "Touche" by Jessie Fauset was fascinating, and definitely something I would like to explicate further in class. I'll attempt to break it down a little bit here, and I'm going to include the poem in the blog so that you can see all the references I'm making.

Touche

Dear, when we sit in that high, placid room,
'Loving' and 'doving' as all lovers do,
Laughing and leaning so close in the gloom,--

What is the change that creeps sharp over you?
Just as you raise your fine hand to my hair
Bringing that glance of mixed wonder and rue?

'Black hair,' you murmur, 'so lustrous and rare,
Beautiful too, like a raven's smooth wing;
Surely no gold locks were ever more fair.'

Why do you say every night that same thing?
Turning your mind to some old constant theme,
Half meditating and half murmuring?

Tell me, that girl of your young manhood's dream,
Her you loved first in that dim long ago--
Had she blue eyes? Did her hair goldly gleam?

Does she come back to you softly and slow,
Stepping wraith-wise from the depths of the past?
Quickened and fired by the warmth of our glow?

There I've divined it! My wit holds you fast.
Nay, no excuses; 'tis little I care.
I knew a lad in my own girlhood's past,--
Blue eyes he had and such waving gold hair!

First of all, I think this poem is very beautiful and aesthetically pleasing. Fauset effectively uses the language of love to emphasize the love that the speaker feels towards the subject, emphasizing the love with a series of "L" alliterations, for example, "Loving...as all lovers do," "Laughing and leaning," (2, 3). But obviously, the speaker (who I believe to be a black woman) is experiencing a realization of the internalized and subtle racism in adult relationships, most specifically in her relationship with the subject of "Touche," who I believe to be a white man. I'm not sure about that, but in the thirds stanza, when the man says, "Black hair...so lustrous and rare,/Beautiful too, like a raven's smooth wing;/Surely no gold locks were ever more fair," he seems to be speaking from the perspective of a white man observing a black woman (7-9). I think that the speaker feels a bit of jealousy, wondering why her lover is so fixated on the color of her hair and her physical appearance. She accuses her lover of still loving another, asking "Does she come back to you softly and slow,/Stepping wraith-wise from the depths of the past?/Quickened and fired by the warmth of our glow?" (16-18). However, in the final stanza, the speaker feels almost a divine understanding of the situation at hand. Recalling her own memories of her own first dream lover with "Blue eyes...and such waving gold hair!" she is able to forgive her lover for speaking of gold locks while touching her own black hair (22).

Although not directly related, this poem reminded me of the situation that the narrator experienced before he married his wife in "Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man." Because he has spent so much time passing, the narrator is nervous and hesistant to reveal his true race to his future-wife, but he does so anyway, only to be met with apprehension and fear. She is shocked at his race, especially since she thought she knew him so well. I actually expected her to turn on him, like almost everyone else in his life so far had, but like the speaker in Jessie Fauset's poem, she has a divine realization that she needs to be more accepting of the narrator. Regardless of his race, she loved him to begin with and she forgives what she views as "flawed" about him, much like the speaker in "Touche" decides to forgive her lover for having a fixation on physical beauty.

I'm anxious to discuss Fauset's work in class -- partially because I don't completely understand her. Did anyone else notice that for a Harlem Renaissance poet, Fauset actually put as strong a focus on race as McKay and Toomer do in their writings? Fauset's poems, I feel, could easily be mistaken for those of a white poet, even though she actually worked alongside poets like McKay. I wonder why this is?

Jean Toomer, Part 1

First of all, I would like to start off by vouching that what I have read so far in Jean Toomer's "Cane" is, in my opinion, some of the most interesting and moving literature in this class so far, and tops my list of all-time personal favorites. I had never even heard of Jean Toomer, and therefore didn't know what to expect until I cracked the book. I will admit that some of the poetry in the assigned section is a little difficult to understand at first glance, such as "November Cotton Flower"...still working on wrapping my mind around that one). However, I found the prose to be full of raw, honest emotions and brutally realistic -- almost to the point of being shocking -- glimpses into people's lives. For this blog entry, I'd like to focus on the one piece that spoke to me most: "Becky."

Becky, descibed in the past tense because she is already dead, is a white Catholic woman with "two Negro sons" (5). Already physically decrepit, with sunken eyes, a "stringy" neck, and aged, fallen breasts, Becky is humiliatingly shunned from both the black and white communities for crossing a race barrier. Her decision to have sex with a black man -- not once, but twice -- and bear two black children dismisses her from any support or respect from either race community. Whites refer to her as a "Common, God-forsaken, insane white shameless wench," and the blacks call her a "Catholic poor-white crazy woman" (5). Because she is obviously not wanted in public, Becky simply disappears socially, and is not even seen at her own home, a humble house located "on the narrow strip of land between the railroad and the road" (5). Some people take pity on her, bringing her food and sending prayers to her, but most simply ignore her and even wonder if she has died and been buried by her two, now-grown sons without anyone in the town knowing. One Sunday afternoon, two religious men on their way home from church services ride past Becky's house. Simultaneously, a train comes churning through the station with such force that it knocks the "leaning" chimney on Becky's home into the cabin, crushing what the two men imagine to be Becky. Instead of investigating, or possibly trying to help Becky, they simply leave a Bible on top of her crushed body. Toomer leaves the reader with the image of the Bible flapping "its leaves with an aimless rustle on her mound" (7).

"Becky" was a difficult piece for me to read. I cannot imagine anyone experiencing so much pain and loneliness in their life, disrespected and looked down on by virtually everyone, and then dying alone and deranged from such an angst-ridden existence. Even worse, I got the idea that both the black and white communities received a sense of relief in Becky's death. The woman who they secretly desired to be "cast...out" and receive ultimate punishment for her miscegenation dies a painful death, but not at their hands. After reading Becky's story a second and third time, I began to feel like Becky and our narratory from "Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man" possessed very similar qualities. Although their stories differ, and Becky's ends much differently than the narrator's does, theoretically they experience many of the same emotions. Neither are fully accepted by black or white communities, and therefore, both choose to distance themselves socially to avoid pain. However, both receive severe emotional scarring from their life experiences, and, even though Becky's story ends in her death whereas the narrator lives, the narrator is barely existing. I would like to discuss the corrolations between "Becky" and "Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man" in class, because I think we could generate some very interesting ideas regarding the way both individuals had to resort to living their lives.

I just can't get over the pain in "Becky." How did she survive as long as she did?

conclusion of "ex-coloured man"

As he begins to wrap up the narrative of his life, our narrator expresses his changed view on race and his beliefs about himself as a black man. He states, "The anomaly of my social position often appealed strongly to my sense of humor. I frequently smiled inwardly at some remark not altogether complimentary to people of colour; and more than once I felt like declaiming: "I am a coloured man. Do I not disprove the theory that one drop of Negro blood renders a man unfit?" Many a night when I returned to my room after an enjoyable evening, I laughed heartily over what struck me as the capital joke I was playing" (197).

As a reader, I couldn't put my finger on the sentiment that the narrator was trying to express in that kind of a statement. He clearly expresses that he maintains respect for the negro race, because he concludes the novel with the thought that men who did work to advance the negro race performed "glorious" work, but the thought that the narrator unabashadly admits to laughing at jokes that degrade his own race makes my heart ache. This narrator is, by far, one of the most conflicted individuals I've ever come to know in literature. "It is to my children that I have devoted my life," the narrator says, reinforcing his inner turmoil. I wonder if the narrator realizes that by laughing at and finding pleasure in jokes that put down the negro race, he is laughing at his own children, who, by the "one drop theory...which the narrator honors, are black? If he claims that he isn't ashamed that he insults himself by accepting degradation of the negro race, I don't know how he could live the knowledge that his wavering attitude towards race means he is also degrading his own children.

The "so what?" attitude that the narrator appears to have adopted reminds me of a current social trend that I have been reflecting on a lot during the reading of this novel. In almost every single rap song that I've heard recently, the word "nigga" is often mentioned more than once, to the point where the presence of the word overrides the general message of the song. For example, in Soulja Boy's recent album, the line "Leave me alone, let me get some peace/I'm sittin at the house and a nigga can't sleep," appear. I believe that the message of that song would still come across if Soulja Boy had replaced the world "nigga" with "man" or "brother." In fact, by using the word "nigga," he specifically caters to a black audience -- an idea which I still don't entirely understand. I don't know if the idea that blacks use "nigga" as a term of comraderie, despite the reign that "nigger" held as the deepest insult a white could give a black, will ever fully make sense to me. I feel like blacks in our modern world who still choose to hold on to the remnants of their ancestors' painful pasts are playing the same role as Johnson's narrator...laughing heartily over a capitol joke that isn't that funny.

-Elizabeth

chapters 6-9

The narrator of "The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man," who remains unnamed even at the beginning of chapter 8, gives readers countless opportunities to dislike him. He flits from occupation to occupation, leaving friends behind and never really honing in on a profession or particular skill. He has incredible opportunities presented to him, for example, his work and eventually his companionship with the millionaire - a man who was willing to take the narrator across the globe and share his music - dissipates because the narrator wants to "go back into the very heart of the South, to live among the people, and drink in...inspiration firsthand" (142). Also, as we discussed in class, the narrator has yet to prove that the story he is telling has direction or purpose. Rather, he simply rambles on, piling his stories upon each other, leaving the reader unsure where or when his narrative will climax.

Despite the narrator's downfalls, I, for some reason, still find him to be an admirable person. No matter how many times he gets pushed down, or "gives up," he finds a way to remain not only optimistic about his future, but also idealistic and confident in himself. I think he, and all black individuals who strove to help achieve greatness for their race during the narrator's time, deserves recognition for possessing such ambitiousness even through times of segregation. Personally, I am proud of the narrator's decision to return to the United States. Coming home to America will provide him with the opportunity to advance respect for his race, and doing so through the use of his beautiful musical skills. I just hope that once he returns to New York, he doesn't fall into the same pit of temptation that consumed him before his travels abroad (gambling), and that he manages to maintain focus on his goals.

One final thought: Will the narrator re-encounter his father and "sister" again? If so, how will he react?

-Elizabeth

Test Drive

Hello,
My name is Elizabeth Corey, and I'm a freshman at Saint Rose. I decided to major in English because I have always loved reading, writing, thinking, and thinking about what I've read and written. Another reason why I'm excited to study literature more is because, so far, everything I've read in and out of English classes has helped shape me into the person I am today and my views on the world. I believe that the more I read, the more I absorb other's thoughts and feelings and allow those same thoughts and feelings to help mold who I am. Albert Camus' novel, The Stranger, pretty much changed my life. I recommend it, if you haven't read it yet. Okay, I guess I got pretty zealous with the first assignment, so I'll stop while I'm ahead.