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192 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1955
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My inheritance was particular, specifically limited and limiting: my birthright was vast, connecting me to all that lives, and to everyone, forever. But one cannot claim the birthright without accepting the inheritance.
Therefore, when I began seriously to write � when I knew that I was committed, that this would be my life � I had to try to describe that particular condition which was � is � the living proof of my inheritance. And at the same time, with that very same description, I had to claim my birthright. I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am, also, much more than that. So are we all.
The story of the Negro in America is the story of America � or, more precisely, it is the story of Americans. It is not a very pretty story: the story of a people is never pretty.Notes of a Native Son (1955) is the first nonfiction book by James. It collects ten essays surrouding the issues of race in the US an Europe (mainly France, and later Switzerland).
I don't like people who like me because I'm a Negro; neither do I like people who find in the same accident grounds for contempt. I love America more than any other country in the world, and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually. […] I have many responsibilities, but none greater than this: to last, as Hemingway says, and get my work done. I want to be an honest man and a good writer.Baldwin's aim is a noble one: to write about the experience of African-American people in the US and showcase the issues with the system of institutionalized racism. In my opinion, he took upon this task to soon and didn't manage to express an universal wisdom like he did in later years. [And who can judge him, homeboy was 30 years old when he wrote Native Son.]
It is an aspect of his humiliation whittled down to a manageable size and then transferred; it is the best form the Negro has for tabulating vocally his long record of grievances against his native land.Native Son is littered with words that are overblown for no reason. It rubbed me the wrong way how Baldwin positioned himself within these stories. As if he were an unfazed observer who talked about/for people rather than letting them speak for themselves.
The American Negro cannot explain to the African what �His language feels oddly impersonal and overbearing. I really feel like he took the easy way out: it's always easier to write about people rather than feel with them. Too often, he attempts to speak for African-Americans, and sometimes other races, as a whole � blending each individual experience into one. There is no such thing as 'The American Negro�'. All of his generalizations are ridiculous. Although I do not think that Baldwin meant any harm with it, I think that he wanted to give his words a 'scholastic bling', making them seem as if they sprung from an academic text book or social study. He wasn't yet aware of the worthiness of his personal experiences, thinking that no one would care for them.
Yet one day he will face �
It occurs to him that �
Up to today we are set at a division, so that he [the black man] may not marry our daughters or our sisters, nor may he � for the most part � eat at our tables or live in our houses.This reinforces my notion that he might have had a white target audience in mind. Again, it didn't work for me and intensified the distance between myself and the text at hand.
I could not get over two facts, both equally difficult for the imagination to grasp, and one was that I could have been murdered. But the other was that I had been ready to commit murder. I saw nothing very clearly but I did see this: that my life, my real life, was in danger, and not from anything other people might do but from the hatred I carried in my own heart.The collection would have been much better had Baldwin spoken more about himself � his experiences and his struggles and the lessons he learned from life. The book as it was published is way too overwrought and generalizes a problem which can't be generalized (by presuming one 'common' black experience) and thus failed to educate the reader or evoke empathy.
It is difficult to make clear that he is not seeking to forfeit his birthright as a black man, but that, on the contrary, it is precisely this birthright which he is struggling to recignize and make articulate.Με την ανάληψη των λογοτεχνικών καθηκόντων του ο συγγραφέας οφείλει, σύμφωνα με τον Baldwin, να προσμετρήσει τους παραπάνω παράγοντες στο έργο του, να είναι living proof of his inheritance και να διεκδικήσει το birthright του ως μαύρος. Στην εισαγωγή της έκδοσης του 1984 υπογραμμίζει πως
The conundrum of color is the inheritance of every American, be he/she legally or actually Black or White.Η γραφή του, ως εκ τούτου, αντανακλά με συνέπεια το αίσθημα της εσωτερικής διαμάχης ενός ανθρώπου που γεννήθηκε στους κόλπους της μαύρης κοινότητας, μιας συντηρητικής, αδέκαστης και ξένης προς τη φροντίδα κοινωνίας, όντας ταυτόχρονα μέρος ενός μεγαλύτερου κόσμου που τον περιθωριοποιεί εν γένει, απορρίπτει τον ψυχισμό του και βασίζει τις αντιδράσεις πάνω στο χρώμα δέρματος του κάθε ανθρώπου.
It is part of the price the Negro pays for his position in this society that, as Richard Wright points out, he is almost always acting. A Negro learns to gauge precisely what reaction the alien person facing him desires, and he produces it with disarming artlessness.Στο εισαγωγικό κείμενο της συλλογής ο Baldwin ασχολείται και διερευνά το ζήτημα του συγγραφέα, με την αναγκαιότητα να γράφει την αλήθεια για τον κόσμο στον οποίο ζει κι από τον οποίο αφορμάται, να πηγαίνει στην πηγή του προβλήματος, πέρα από την επιφάνεια, και να εξετάζει τις συμπεριφορές, με τη δυσκολία του να είναι μαύρος συγγραφέας όταν το Negro problem δεν αντιμετωπίζεται όπως κατά τη γνώμη του πρέπει.
In the context of the Negro problem neither the whites nor blacks, for excellent reasons of their own, have the fainstest desire to look back; but I think the past is all that makes the present coherent, and further, that the past will remain horrible for exactly as long as we refuse to assess it honestly.Εντούτοις ο Baldwin διακατέχεται από αξιοσημείωτη και μύχια ανθρωπιά, δεν προβαίνει σε συναισθηματικές υστερίες, ωθεί τον εαυτό του να βρίσκεται στον αντίποδα της πικρίας ως προς τους λευκούς, πικρία που όπως ισχυρίζεται ήταν ο καταλύτης του θανάτου του πατέρα του. Δε διστάζει να κρίνει γνωστά και αγαπημένα έργα ως προβληματικά, μεταξύ άλλων το , για τον υπερβολικό συναισθηματισμό, για την ανειλικρίνεια της απεικόνισης του μαύρου, λέγοντας:
I am not one of the people who believe that oppression imbues a people with wisdom or insight or sweet charity, though the survival of the Negro in this country would simply not have been possible if this bitterness had been all he felt.Ο Baldwin είναι άνθρωπος της λογοτεχνίας, του λόγου, κατανοεί τη σημασία του να δίνεται και στους λευκούς χαρακτήρες των έργων υπόσταση πλήρως ανεπτυγμένου όντος, υποστηρίζοντας με θέρμη πως
You do not have to fully humanize your black characters by dehumanizing the white ones.
The American commonwealth chooses to ovelook what Negroes are never able to forget: they are not really considered a plan of it. Like Aziz in or Topsy in , they know that white people, whatever their love for justice, have no love for them. This is the crux of the matter.Το στοιχείο ωστόσο που διαπερνά το κείμενο είναι μάλλον το αισιόδοξο βλέμμα του Baldwin, ακόμη κι όταν εκείνο που περιγράφει είναι η αθλιότητα του να είναι κάποιος μαύρος στην Αμερική. Χρησιμοποιώντας τα λόγια του ανθρώπου που πάνω απ' όλα ήθελε να είναι ειλικρινής άνθρωπος και καλός συγγραφέας:
This is the only real concern of the artist, to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art.
It began to seem that one would have to hold in the mind forever two ideas which seemed to be in opposition. The first idea was acceptance, the acceptance, totally without rancor, of life as it is, and men as they are: in the light of this idea, it goes without saying that injustice is a commonplace. But this did not mean that one could be complacent, for the second idea was of equal power: that one must never, in one’s own life, accept these injustices as commonplace but must fight them with all one’s strength. This fight begins, however, in the heart and it now had been laid to my charge to keep my own heart free of hatred and despair.
“People who shut their eyes to reality simply invite their own destruction, and anyone who insists on remaining in a state of innocence long after that innocence is dead turns himself into a monster�
“Or, to put it another way, my inheritance was particular, specifically limited and limiting: my birthright was vast, connecting me to all that lives, and to everyone, forever. But one cannot claim the birthright without accepting the inheritance. Therefore, when I began, seriously, to write—when I knew I was committed, that this would be my life—I had to try to describe that particular condition which was—is—the living proof of my inheritance. And, at the same time, with that very same description, I had to claim my birthright. I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am, also, much more than that. So are we all.�
"It is not pleasant to be forced to recognize, more than thirty years later, that neither this dynamic nor this necessity have changed. There have been superficial changes, with results at best ambiguous and, at worst, disastrous. Morally, there has been no change at all and a moral change is the only real one. “Plus ça change,� groan the exasperated French (who should certainly know), “plus c’est le même chose.� (The more it changes, the more it remains the same.) At least they have the style to be truthful about it."
“And,� says Doris Lessing, in her preface to African Stories, “while the cruelties of the white man toward the black man are among the heaviest counts in the indictment against humanity, colour prejudice is not our original fault, but only one aspect of the atrophy of the imagination that prevents us from seeing ourselves in every creature that breathes under the sun.�