First chapter of an unfinished project


 WORDS AND BEING                                                                       July 26, 2016 draft/jww

Chapter 1: Literary and Social Positions



            Writing about boundary conditions from his position as President of the Modern Language Association, K. Anthony Appiah quotes a sentence from Matthew Arnold's Culture and Anarchy wherein the phrases "the best that has been thought and known in the world" and "sweetness and light" delimit Arnold's Victorian idea of culture. "The word culture can mean many things (and nothing)," Appiah suggests, "but Arnold is talking here about the ideal of a liberal education, an education for free women and men"(Appiah 2016, p. 2).  Aside from  the philosophical exactness of Appiah's proposing that the word culture might mean nothing, it is noteworthy that his statement is a particular instance of doing something with words, an instance which positions his immediate audience (readers of the MLA Newsletter) to react, one way or another, to what seems to be his commonsensical choice "to endorse the vision of a liberal education that is of value to people independent of wealth or occupation and that gives us more than a marketable skill."  Even readers who share Appiah's vision might bristle, however, when they encounter his carefully worded rhetorical gesture of saying "a degree in economics is not a particularly good preparation for a career in business,"(2), because they recognize there are no guarantees a degree in one of the humanities without acquisition of non-humanistic skill sets is a good preparation for a career.  As a typical example of the humanistic discourse we take for granted , Appiah's "Boundary Conditions" exposes some rules of the academic game as nothing more or less than a gamble.[i] External variables that are not language as well as choice and chance are at play. To be sure, the mind's constant interplay between limits and ideals, what is and what might be , urges us to argue that common sense is necessary to determine our location in the game.

            Information about American culture, and those  African American culture (s) in which we have invested interest, rapidly accumulates. We have to make hard choices as we navigate between "culture" as a totality of interrelated human activities and "culture" as the domain of highbrow and lowbrow arts.  How does one manage a surplus of empirical data, a vast range of competing interpretations and culture-bound opinions that are ineluctably political?  What is the role of knowledge and power, change and continuity,  in constituting ideas regarding identity, authenticity and authority?  Do widely discussed  tensions between the humanities and the sciences compound  uncertainties and/or motivate some scholars to make frantic quests for power in manufacturing theories ? Are scholars and others who write cultural commentaries obligated to be forthcoming about how their ideologies condone, collaborate with,  or resist hegemony? These questions, and dozens of others we have not raised, are central in determining what might be  the purposes, the problems, and  the values of  cultural studies.

            Aware that the human mind  cannot know all about any subject, we investigate  small particles ---in this book we focus mainly on the small territory African American   literature and allied expressions can claim in the geography of culture,  and compare our tentative findings with evidence coming from people who study other particles in order to create a larger picture of the order or disorder of things. The fact that culture is never static and  means many things only makes knowing what counts as evidence a daunting project.  Work in the human sciences that does not fit within paradigms described by Thomas Kuhn,[ii] that frequently  lacks strict protocols of verification, that until two or three decades ago  looked askance at the value of collaboration, can promote more confusion than clarity in the construction of knowledge.  This condition does not warrant assuming that work in natural sciences is immune to confusion.  Nevertheless, it is tempting to think that human sciences and cultural studies might be less vulnerable (and slightly more honest)  if they explored the cognitive properties of art and aesthetics more deliberately.  We admit, for example, that Francis Bacon's promotion of inductive method appeared to give insufficient regard to the function of imagination in epistemology, but his drawing attention to the crippling Idols of the Tribe, the Cave, the Marketplace, and the Theater did provide cautions we do well to remember as we shuttle between the past and the present in cultural studies.  Likewise, Werner Heisenberg's " Uncertainty Principle "  is no panacea, but his thinking about language in relation to problems in quantum theory has relevance for exploring issues in literature and culture.[iii] Indeed, our interest in aspects of sciences does buttress our pragmatic iconoclasm.  The skepticism we associate with common sense helps us to minimize delusions as we amplify awareness of our historicity. We are convinced that  words simultaneously reveal and conceal how we occupy literary and social positions.

            Our intellectual space is the habitat for concern with the  tradition of black writing, which we propose  is coterminous with the tradition of black literature. Whether we speak of African American  literature or of writing depends on how we choose to position our research, interpretations, and  pedagogy.  Writing refers to specific uses of verbal literacy either in script (handwriting) or print ( technologies of  mechanical reproduction) or cyberspace (digital imaging). On the other hand, literature embraces a dimension occupied both by printed works and by  orature or oral literature.  In that space one finds self-consciously isolated instances of writing along with instances controlled by publishers and literary politics. The myth that literature enjoys the autonomy of intellectual property is crudely suspect, and it should be banished in cultural studies.

            Typical examples of writing are emails or letters between friends, captions linked to images, folklore, personal statements attached to applications, blogs and legal documents. Literature, as it is traditionally conceptualized,  is constituted by fiction and non-fiction, play scripts and screenplays, poems, and the sound-crafting of lyrics by performers. African American  literature includes blurred genres (mixed media) in want of adequate description, a fact widely known in the emerging field of digital humanities. Our robust traditions of  mixing orature, literature, writing and music, especially when they are integrated with visual art,  cause unavoidable problems in scholarship as well as  the conduct of everyday life, not because they are arbitrary but because we make them interchangeable according to our needs.  In turn, those traditions are entitled to demand that we acknowledge when and  how often  our ideologies  hibernate underground.

            Critical thinking about African American writing and literature has the option of  yoking  the cultural and the political in struggles for human and civil rights, for agency, and for learning from the conflicting values implicit in the prior and subsequent  histories of Black Arts/Black Aesthetic projects.  The quality and quantity of confirmative African American ideas and creations do change, as writers, critics, and scholars buy into or reject the options of the American culture. For everyone, emphases shift in response to domestic or vernacular events and increasingly to global or "globalized" events  .

              It might be argued that motives, always open to question,  for assertions of self and group identity are  more stable and slower in changing than the vast number of  expressions associated with them.  Although belief in the wonderful illusion of “the black community” and communal solidarity in the United States has given way to accepting the contentious realities of diversity, intra-ethnic fragmentation  and growing interest in diasporic  synthesis, it is not prudent  abandon some ancestral values always subliminal and likely to be retrofitted  in the unfinished enterprise labeled the Black Aesthetic Movement, if that historic phenomenon is to be understood, as we understand the American Renaissance of the nineteenth century,   as one and only one cultural manifestation of how people choose to deal with words, perception, and being-in-the-world. “Ceremonies of poise in a non-rational universe,” George Kent suggested, can enable us to “play an endless satire upon Western assumptions of rationality” (Kent 1968,  692). [iv] Those ceremonies, like such influential texts as Blues People (1963),  The Crisis of the Negro Intellectual (1967), and The Signifying Monkey (1988), challenge but do not annihilate the Western assumptions so permanently anchored in the unfolding of culture and traditions. As Dr. Carter G. Woodson warned us in Mis-education of the Negro (1933), some of the most absurd Western assumptions find fertile ground and thrive in African American minds. [v]

In various combat zones of culture, refusal to abandon the ideals and the authority of African American traditions puts one at risk. One becomes an outsider who is inside. One must be brave and ready to pay what James Baldwin termed the price of the ticket, even if the price is one’s sanity or one’s life.  Activists who are not cultural pimps know that. They do not confuse a combat zone with a theatre for neo-minstrelsy.  For what does it profit a person to perform intellectual minstrelsy for the delight of the media and the academic “gods” who contend struggles for  human rights and social justice ought not be spoken about in the same space as the achievements of the Enlightenment? One reductive answer, of course, is a five-letter word: money.

 As Ann DuCille remarked in Skin Trade (1996), we do live in “ a country where ethnic rivalry, race hatred, bigotry, anti-Semitism, sexism, heterosexism, and even neo-Nazism are on the rise” (172), and “the best thing we can do for ourselves and our country…is exactly to deromanticize it” (173). [vi]In thinking about  literature, writing, and people, we find DuCille’s insights are pragmatic; they are consonant with our choices as an African American Southern males and our penchant for deromanticizing things in the spirit of David Walker. Wretchedness afflicts all Americans,  recurs in cycles of decrease and ascent, and  is apparently immune to any lasting resolution. Some ideas promoted by the  Black Arts Movement  do influence our behaviors and critical thinking in the combat zones created by Charles Johnson’s essay “The End of the Black American Narrative” [vii],  by calls to abandon our history in post-racial revisions, and by arguments that we should cast our expressive traditions prematurely into the machine of Kenneth W. Warren’s What Was African American Literature? (2011).  Those specifiable zones are minute in the context of the vast zones constituted by cultural change itself, zones that evade naming. In those spaces, a scholarly activist  must depend on folk wisdom and common sense.

Integrity bids us to acknowledge our  ideas about words and cultural combat zones are derived from accepting the imperatives in Gwendolyn Brooks’ magnificent sonnet “First Fight. Then Fiddle”. We  likewise acknowledge indebtedness  to Mary Louise Pratt’s speech “Arts of the Contact Zone” and to her description of those zones as “social spaces where cultures meet, clash, and grapple with each other, often in contexts of highly asymmetrical relations of power, such as colonialism, slavery, or their aftermaths as they are lived out in many parts of the world today” (Pratt 1).  These spaces where people communicate inside and across cultures have crossroads that are race/class/gender/color-coded.  Decisions about oppositions and dilemmas must be made there and then negotiated on fields where one can do no more than hope mutual respect will arise. Nothing is guaranteed. Dealing with traditions and their revisions, however, obligates one to deal with an actuality that Pratt chose not to emphasize: the psychological violence that marks cultural encounters.[viii]

In the early years of the twenty-first century, we are embroiled in combat zones that the Internet, its social networks, and litigation regarding intellectual property highlight and render unavoidable., Our battles  have much to do with ideas about access, hegemony, the rites of capitalism, and authority. From elite sites that pretend to be race-free, both in print and online, we are told LITERATURE must be segregated by philosophical and linguistic sleight-of-hand from such democratic expressive categories as “writing” or “speech” (that is, speech associated with oral traditions). LITERATURE is a saintly commodity.  Pray tell us how elite  bullshit fertilizes the lawns of the Academy.

 In an essay on how the poet Carolyn Rodgers sought to connect poetry and literacy, it was argued that  “criticism [rightly belongs] to the realm of the pedagogy of the oppressed, because language is a political instrument”( Ward, "Literacy and Criticism," 63). Carolyn Rodgers’ four touchstone essays in Negro Digest and Black World between 1969 and 1971[ix] should be reexamined for  how expertly she exploited the vernacular and illustrated the potential of speech act theory in promoting literacy. Rodgers addressed how the folk, whoever they are, use drylongso intuitions “as fundamental ingredients of reality and creativity as they construct their worlds” (63). In reclaiming what must still be dealt with in combat zones, perhaps we can finally acknowledge that Rodgers, a gifted poet, disclosed “crucial aspects of language’s behavior for those who would attain literacy in a space that is decidedly multiethnic” (Ward, "Literacy and Criticism," 65).[x]  Perhaps we can finally  acknowledge that her critical legacy of common sense has lasting value for understanding meaning and significance in American cultures.

We might ask ourselves whether cyberspace and advancing technologies are diminishing (or destroying) a tradition of black writing wherein Rodgers located herself as a leading figure in Chicago's OBAC (Organization of Black American Culture) Writers' Workshop, a tradition which had for a long time used both drylongso intuitions and rigorous scholarship as modes of interpretation.[xi] Often the interconnectedness of literature and  life rather than theoretical divorce of life from literature was the object of interpretation. Are new technologies replacing the old traditions  with emerging traditions, freely embraced now by older and younger Americans of all ethnicities, which are marked by complacent,  non-critical consumption that was rarely countenanced by many Black Arts/Black Aesthetic Movement (BAM) thinkers?  Can serious cultural examination and reclaiming of what was positive, progressive, and nominally Black between 1960 and 1975 (imagined beginning and end points for BAM) help us to retard the downsizing of American critical thought and imagination?

Serious action in combat zones requires that we give more than casual notice to such questions. Serious action precludes nostalgia for a past that is also the present in bringing “culture” to the foreground but is remiss in attending  to African American interests in the use and abuse of the  sciences; transnational cultural pollination; nuclear proliferation; ending cycles of welfare, criminalization and poverty; deliberate miseducation, the pedagogy of oppression,  and vile uses of disinformation; invisible racism and benign genocide;  alternative fuel sources;  world affairs military and non-military, health care and the quality of human life.  It is the less obvious that we should acknowledge and cultivate as we condemn the retarding binary of white and black in cultural explanations .  Although we must acknowledge our indebtedness to an imperfect past (which included paradigms independent from the limits of Eurocentricisms and Afrocentricisms), we must attempt to  balance that imperfect past with dedicated specifications of our oppositional roles in building a future.  We must make hard decisions about who are our allies and who are our enemies as we deal with literary  traditions and the inevitability of change.  It is easy to become promiscuous in our intimacies with alienating methodologies and ideologies.  Obviously we need to know who are our comrades, who can we trust to participate in our projects in black writing that extend beyond narrowly defined “literature” and creative expressions ; obviously, we need to be relentless in identifying our cultural enemies, those who would confuse and  destroy our memories and practices of tradition, or silence our utterance and make their own terrorism legitimate by virtue of dubious "objectivity."  We must know how Americans construct  positions, loyalties, and beliefs as justifications for battle in the combat zones of the intellectual and the practical.  That we have traditions worth fighting for is beyond dispute.

Hortense Spillers partially mapped the territory of conflict in her essay, “The Crisis of the Negro Intellectual: A Post-Date:”

We could say with a great deal of justification that the black creative intellectual has been more hesitant than not to acknowledge precisely where and how she “is coming from” and in what ways location marks in fact a chunk of the historical material. A more efficacious critique, or, I should say, one that is less loaded with pretenses and pretensions, altogether depends on such acknowledgements (449-450).

Spillers’ observation about hesitance  strengthens belief that creative intellectuals of all colors and in all locations should acknowledge where they are coming from.[xii] Given that American institutions of higher education rarely acknowledge that our nation is a post-colonial empire, that its social compact is actually  a racial contract, or that its Constitution was ratified as a proslavery document which still legitimates deceptive forms of “enslavement,” those institutions  are de facto sites of combat and contact.  Acknowledgement is only provisional evidence that a person is a potential friend or foe; the proof of the pudding is extended contact.

The tradition of black writing can teach us  that skin-privilege cards are played more frequently than race cards both within and outside of spaces of education, social policy, cultural production, labor, and sports. Thus, those who undertake scholarship  in the combat zone of cultural traditions should bluntly acknowledge their designs and give a name to their complex ideologies.  Sustained skepticism about ethical values in literary cultural studies does perhaps support  the genuine, uncertainty-plagued  pursuit of knowledge.

 Like the Harlem Renaissance, the Black Arts/Black Aesthetic phenomenon was at once necessary and limited in its duration. Nevertheless, both movements, in concert with the very old struggles for civil rights and self-determination (cultural and political nationalism) effectively exposed the nature of hypocrisy and hegemony in our republic which is not a democracy in the classic sense.  We argue in Chapter 2 "Traditions and Critical Talents" that “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain” by Langston Hughes and  “Blueprint for Negro Writing” by Richard Wright were inspirations for the cultural disruptions and specificity inscribed in  “Myth of a Negro Literature” and “Black Writing” by LeRoi Jones, Ishmael Reed’s introduction in 19 Necromancers from Now, Stephen Henderson’s “Introduction: The Forms of Things Unknown” in Understanding the New Black Poetry: Black Speech and Black Music as Poetic References, and Hoyt W. Fuller’s “Towards a Black Aesthetic.”  Eugene B. Redmond's  Drumvoices, a model of  comprehensive, literary historical description of one genre, provides a contrast to the critical turn and reconstruction of instruction in  African American critical positions represented by the post-modernist theorizing of Houston A. Baker, Jr. and Henry Louis Gates, Jr., by the critique of  American creative praxis  in Toni Morrison's  Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination , and by the feminist/womanist interventions of Alice Walker's In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens  and Barbara Christian’s “The Race for Theory.” Our argument is exploratory, raising questions about selective features of the combat zones wherein contemporary African American cultural critics do much to open the mind; it addresses a limited range of possible literary and social positions . But it does suggest that  Ishmael Reed did not lie when he proclaimed writing is fighting.

These words of wisdom from the “tradition” and wit from the laughing barrel are but a small fraction of the intellectual  ammunition to be used  for combat.  Every person who struggles to be an engaged writer and critical thinker  must gather her or his own arsenal of weapons. The arsenal must contain great amounts of interdisciplinary information, especially if the struggling writer is also a teacher. Items for the armory must be gathered by independent critical reading and critical thinking. Truth be told, acquiring weapons from various educational programs and communal discussions is necessary but not sufficient.  The best weapons are forged in the discipline of one’s mind as Margaret Walker’s voice intones “For My People” in the background. This is merely an opinion.  It is neither a prescription nor an imperative.  As far as tradition and acknowledgement can be associated with words and being  in combat zones as a future priority, it is less than amazing that many of our comrades are not black and many of our enemies are not white in the permanent cultural wars that give our nation its unique flavor.





NOTES





[i] Appiah, K. Anthony. "Boundary Conditions." MLA Newsletter 48.1 (2016): 2
[ii] See Thomas S. Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1962)
[iii] See Physics and Philosophy: The Revolution in Modern Science (New York: HarperCollins, 1962).
[iv] Kent, George E. "Ethnic Impact in American Literature." Black Voices. Ed. Abraham Chapman. New York: Mentor, 1968: 691-697.
[v] See Sandra Adell. Double-Consciousness/Double-Bind: Theoretical Issues in Twentieth-Century Black Literature. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1994. Adell argued that while Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Houston A. Baker, Jr. do not succeed in “their emancipatory goal of freeing Afro-American literature from the hegemony of Eurocentric discourses,” they do “bring into sharp relief what can best be described as a nostalgia for tradition”(137). What is brought into sharper relief is Adell’s own gendered-nostalgia for hegemony , a desire which led her to conflate  the evidence of  African American literature with facts of  theory and to misidentify quite splendidly  what Gates and Baker were growing in their respective gardens.

[vi] DuCille, Ann. Skin Trade Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996.

[vii]Charles  Johnson. "The End of the Black American Narrative." The American Scholar 77.2 (2008): 32-42.  Johnson's call, in one of the nation's most prestigious intellectual journals,  to have "the old black American narrative" of racial victimization replaced by "a provisional reading of reality, a single phenomenological profile that  one day is likely to be revised" (42) is reviewed in Chapter 2.  Cultural scholars should not miss the humor in the fact Johnson's article follows William Deresiewicz's lamentation on the social disadvantages of an elite education.
[viii] In Autobiography and Black Identity Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), , Kenneth Mostern proposes that if a “general” United States popular culture does exist, it is “ ‘African,’ having been infused with the performance styles and musical beats of people of African descent for centuries to the point that these styles are clearly a large part of all performing traditions” (19). It seems that we find greater acknowledgement of his proposal in discussions of music than we find in racialized literary discourses about words. We find no acknowledgement of his proposal in the violence of American  politics.

[ix] Jerry W. Ward, Jr.,  “Literacy and Criticism: The Example of Carolyn Rodgers.” Drumvoices 4.1-2 (Fall-Winter 1994/95): 62-65.  Rodgers's four essays are “Black Poetry ---Where It’s At.” Negro Digest 18.11 (1969): 7-16; “The Literature of Black.” Black World 19.8 (1970):5-11; “Breakforth. In Deed.” Black World 19.11 (1970): 13-22; “Uh Nat’chal Thang –the WHOLE TRUTH –US.” Black World 20.11 (1971): 4-14.

[x]  Reading Elizabeth A. Flynn’s “Reconsiderations: Louise Rosenblatt and the Ethical Turn in Literary Theory.” College English 70.1 (2007): 52-69 can deepen our thinking about the combat zone wherein Rodgers did battle.  Rosenblatt’s Literature as Exploration (1938, 1976) and The Reader, the Text, the Poem: The Transactional Theory of the Literary Work (1978) are useful for studies of the tension between what is aesthetic and what is political in pedagogy and praxis and for knowing who our potential allies might be. For those who say they are interested in the historical importance of the Black Arts/Black Aesthetic moment,  reading Carolyn Fowler’s Black Arts and Black Aesthetics: A Bibliography (1976, 1981) is obligatory. Fowler was one of the first people in higher education to accord the moment serious attention in teaching and writing and to use the concept of culture in a global sense that still resonates.

[xi] Lawrence P. Jackson’s The Indignant Generation: A Narrative History of African American Writers and Critics, 1934-1960 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2010) is a brilliant account of black and critical writing practices between the Harlem Renaissance and the emergence of the Black Arts/Black Aesthetic phenomenon.
[xii]  Hortense J. Spillers, "The Crisis of the Negro Intellectual: A Post-Date." in  Black, White and in Color: Essays on American Literature and Culture (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003), 428-470.

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