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Abstract History has proved that nothing in the whole world remains the same forever. However, with racial discrimination, history, especially of the United States, seems to have failed to prove the validity of this theory. For, despite all the trials exerted for centuries to abolish it, racial discrimination has continued its way, safe and sound, well into the twentieth century. The black-white conflict in America is a striking manifestation of the cunning and persistence of this pejorative term—racism. African Americans have had to wage a long-lasting struggle for their social, economic, political, and civil rights—a battle not yet fully won. In the twentieth century, blacks have continued their protest against discrimination fighting zealously in the political field, in the courts, and ultimately in the streets. In the early years of the century, whether in the North or the South, the problems facing blacks were multifaceted and closely related to economics and racism: they lived a slavish life, and many of them even lived at the margin of subsistence. During the 1950s and 1960s, blacks took to the streets, the courts, and the halls of Congress and state legislatures to win their rights, making this decade an era of struggle for equality. During the mid-century years, despite the dramatic victories the civil rights movement has brought to the South, civil rights laws have done little for blacks in northern and western cities as they still felt an overshadowing deprivation. And, in spite of their endeavor to resolve the social, political, and economic discrepancies between themselves and whites, blacks have not fully succeeded. “After comparing census data from 1970 to 1980, two researchers concluded, „blacks are still frozen out of the American dream…[and] the segregation of CONCLUSION 1 6 8 blacks in large cities has hardly changed” (Dinnerstein, David, and Roger, eds. 311-12). Despite all the trials and expectations, the end of the twentieth century has disappointingly witnessed, not the ending of racism, prejudice, discrimination, and segregation but, the emergence of more subtle forms. Wolves could hide behind lambs‟ wool. Racial animosities and conformities that could not be explicitly promulgated have been disguised under masks of race-neutral assaults on welfare waste, crime, and the slums. Jim Crow racism might seem to have been ubiquitously defeated, but, in fact, it has merely given birth to a new covert racist ideology known as laissez-fair racism. This new pattern of belief, as Lawrence Bobo and Ryan A. Smith say, involves “staunch rejection of an active role for government in undoing racial segregation and inequality, an acceptance of negative stereotypes of African Americans, a denial of discrimination as a current societal problem, and attribution of primary responsibility for black disadvantage to blacks themselves” (Higham ed. 42). Not only are these new racial subtexts tantamount to the previous forms of racial oppression and inequity, they are commonly more subtle, bitter, and extreme. They are, therefore, harder to confront than the unequivocal racism of the Jim Crow era. It is, for this reason, quite predictable that blacks, whose anger is escalating due to the spreading indifference of the government and most whites to the injuries of both race and poverty, will have to continue their struggle, even harder than before. The heightened self-awareness that has evolved from the political and social changes that have taken place during the twentieth century and changed the lives of African Americans has demanded artistic expression whether to express anger at racism or hope for the future, or to explore the nature of the black experience and its influence on individual black Americans. One of the writers who has CONCLUSION 1 6 9 truly dedicated his whole creative efforts to the struggle against racism and all the other forms of racial oppression, to the expression of hope for the future, and to the investigation of the nature and impact of the black experience on individual black Americans is Langston Hughes. And since no one other than Hughes has so marvelously and forcefully expressed, more than he has done, the life of the black masses—their pain and suffering, their battles and strivings, their hopes and aspirations—the thesis makes use of some of his major works. Langston Hughes (1902-1967), “Poet Laureate of the Negro” and “Dean of American Negro writers,” has begun his literary career with a commitment to black folk and cultural resources. His poetry is a real manifestation of his people: their strivings, their lifestyles, their music, and their dialects. The American dream and its possibilities for the black people, “the economic depression, the issue of justice for the Negro, and the burden of poverty” are dominant themes in his poetry (Bloom ed. 120). Langston Hughes‟s Not without Laughter (1930) is a striking evidence of the persistence of racial discrimination in the twentieth century. The novel portrays a family that is close to the folk, unmasks the bitterness of the disorder and chaos confronting Negroes in a white-dominated society, and is full of the hope arising from the folk sense of making something out of oneself. Aunt Hager wants Sandy Williams, her grandson, to be a Booker Washington and a Frederick Douglass: “I wants him to know all they is to know, so ‟s he can help this black race of our ‟n to come up and see de light and take they places in de world” (136; Ch. xii). Conspicuously, Sandy Williams in Not Without Laughter represents the younger black generation in whom the elder blacks put hope and faith. Sandy‟s family think the best of him and believe that, slavery being abolished, his chance CONCLUSION 1 7 0 for better life is much better than theirs. However, nothing in Sandy‟s past indicates that his learning or even his native intelligence will make any difference to his future. Hughes has skillfully implied that although it had long been abolished, slavery still affected the lives of blacks and whites as well because its seeds have been deeply impeded in society. Sandy Williams, a boy of promise, may acquire education, learning, religion, good manners, but in a white society he will find no place—the sinister effect of his dark skin in a white society is insurmountable. Langston Hughes hits once more on the theme of racial discrimination in his collection of short stories, The Ways of the White Folks. More than any other story in the collection, “The Blues I‟m playing” holds a unique position. It demonstrates the deception of whites and the absurd notion of their paternalistic philanthropy and discloses the hypocrisy and falseness of white patronage. Indeed, Oceola Jones‟s ultimate refusal to subscribe to her patroness‟ domination over her private life reflects her refusal of enslavement, for, deep behind its glittering frame, white patronage, the story implicitly suggests, is a bypass of the long, vicious road of slavery—not merely do the white patrons want to help their protégés, they want to impose their way of life upon them as well. In addition, the black-white conflict is maintained throughout the story. It is transparent in the powerful comparison Hughes has drawn between the housing of both black and white folks; between the wretchedness and poverty of the lives of the former, and the luxurious and splendid lives of the latter. It is also obvious in the assertion that “Mrs. Ellsworth couldn‟t recall ever having known a single Negro before in her whole life;” in Oceola‟s “sheer love of jazz” and the blues, and Mrs. Ellsworth‟s hatred of them; in Oceola‟s desire to live in Harlem or Atlanta “where there are lots of colored people” like her, and Mrs. Ellsworth‟s CONCLUSION 1 7 1 wondering “why any one insisted on living in Harlem;” in the discrepancy between Oceola‟s and Mrs. Ellsworth‟s views concerning art and love; and, finally, in the break away of Oceola and her patroness, hence implying that the gap between black and white people still persists and that both the black and white folks will continue their separate ways. Hughes‟s Emperor of Haiti (1936) is a striking manifestation of colonial slavery and its harsh codes. The play relates the story of Jean Jacques Dessalines‟s progress from slave to emperor and investigates the reasons leading to his failure as a leader. Dessalines fails because of his reliance on his military and physical skills whilst neglecting the art of government and diplomacy, his move away from the common people whom he disparages and calls peasants, and his arrogance and pride: DESSALINES. I‟m king! I‟m on top! I‟m the glory of Haiti! MARTEL. The glory of Haiti lies in no one man, Jean Jacques…[it lies] in the . . people‟s love for freedom. (39; Act 2, Scene 1) Moreover, Emperor of Haiti analyzes the reasons leading to the fall of the Haitian empire for the significance the Haitian revolution represents for African Americans. One reason is that the black leaders knew how to fight but not how to rule—after all, the school of slavery was not designed to teach the slaves a course of politics and government. The arrogance of the emperor and the treason set around him, are other reasons. However, the Haitian empire has mainly collapsed because, in their trial to be civilized, black leaders have not acted like themselves and ridiculously imitated the ways of those whom they have considered their white enemies. In addition, the slaves have had no will to earnestly help themselves, and this has constituted the chief cause of their misfortunes. They want a better life, but they are unwilling to work to get it: CONCLUSION 1 7 2 DESSALINES. If only we had people who would help, Martel. It seems nobody cares. Nobody wants to work. MARTEL. That is our problem, son… when we was slaves, lots of us thought if we was free, we‟d never have to work again …(35; Act 1, Scene1) In Emperor of Haiti, although Hughes has not witnessed the time when slaves were being tortured by whipping and burning, he has portrayed these operations in a way that not only visualizes the picture but also transcends the pain and anguish of those being tortured—something that proves that, although Negroes in the twentieth century have been redeemed from many of the outrageous forms of physical torture, blacks still kept the memories of their ancestors‟ experience of them. In short, the duality of being black in a white America has been deeply rooted in the consciousness of African Americans in the twentieth century that, despite the political advances they have achieved, the legacy of racism still dominated their lives—socially, politically, and, most of all, psychologically. The thesis is, without blarney, tremendously concerned with the history of black struggle against all the forms of racial oppression. Yet, it is far more concerned with the investigation of the true state of twentieth century African Americans. As such, the thesis tackles such issues as the problem of the color line, the reality and the dream. It unravels the secrets behind the fragile bonds in the American society: between blacks and whites, between blacks and mulattos, and between middle and low-class blacks. It also attempts to ferret out some discrepancies that appear in different accounts between the living of the black and white people. The thesis thoroughly handles the devastating effects of the identification with, and idealization of, the white man and his culture as seen in Not Without Laughter and Emperor of Haiti. Yet, in the “Blues I‟m Playing,” Hughes could, as always, announce to the world that the streets of black CONCLUSION 1 7 3 America contain a culture that may even be more rich, vibrant, and thriving than the white culture. However, being no extremist, Hughes does not stress this view as we see him, in all the works studied in the thesis, mocking his beloved people as much as he mocks those who sneer at them. Like all black Americans, Hughes has been confronted with the dilemma of dual-consciousness. Yet, unlike many of them, he has been well aware of this dilemma and used his poetry as an outlet and a means of salvation to it. Between the American and Negro identities, Hughes has always assumed a third identity for himself: that of a “singer” or a poet—a black poet. In all his works, poetry as well as prose, we see him struggling to resolve his true identity, so do all the black characters in his works. However, Hughes‟s outlet has always been to stick to his race and to take pride in his cultural heritage—particularly the blues and jazz of which he is a terribly gifted lover and spokesman. In almost all of his works, whenever a character is finally able to figure out its way through the hardships and complexes of being black in a white society, there is presented a blues line—one that admits temporary defeat and, yet, hope for the future. For instance, in Not Without Laughter, only when Harriett Williams pursuits her love of the blues can she find her way and even become a great blues singer or, as she is referred to in the novel, a “princess of the blues;” something that suggests that assuming the identity of a singer is an outlet for such a longstumbling Negro soul. Moreover, when the black children are given their greatest disappointment on the Children‟s Day and are implicitly told that they are members of a despised group, and a discussion over the troubled black-white relation takes place, a blues song is chanted—a song that so much admits the hardships for Negroes and expresses hope for the future: from this world o’ trouble free, Stars beyond! CONCLUSION 1 7 4 Stars beyond! There’s a star fo’ you an’ me, Stars beyond! (200;Ch. xviii) Hughes, who believes that only through democratic process can Negroes become fully accepted members of the society, combines in his writings— poetry and prose—the realistic admission of temporary and past defeat for his people along with the conviction that the United States will soon fulfill the Negro‟s hopes and dreams. Although seemingly sad, Hughes‟s writings, through his humanity which mellows the rigid comprehensiveness of the real world he conveys, pulse with hope as life, love, and laughter blow a clean wind of it (Hall ed. 148). Both Oceola Jones, in “The Blues I‟m Playing,” and Sandy Williams, in Not Without Laughter, are determined to live first. Oceola wonders “why did they or anybody argue so much about life or art? Oceola merely lived—and she loved it”(1277). And Sandy, giving up the idea of “staying poor and meek, waiting for heaven,” is determined to live first “I want to live first”(236; Ch. xxvi). Black people‟s love of life is also transparent in their unrelenting stress on the assenting and virile nature of music. Oceola has a unique perception of music, one that “demanded movement and expression, dancing and living to go with it”(1278). She “never liked those fashionable colored churches where shouting and movement were discouraged and looked down upon, and where New England hymns instead of spirituals were sung”(1278). Neither do all the other low-class black characters in Hughes‟s works. They do not like the churches where dancing and movement are shunned. Aunt Hager says, “I told her I didn‟t think much o‟ joinin‟ a church so far away from God that they didn‟t want nothin‟ but yaller niggers for members, so full o‟ forms an‟ fashions that a good Christian couldn‟t shout” (23; Ch. ii). CONCLUSION 1 7 5 Another important issue that Hughes has implicitly conveyed in almost all of his works is the issue of integration versus separation. Being moderate himself, he seems to come into line with the fusion and even melting of these seemingly irreconcilable trends. Throughout his career, Hughes has been well aware of injustice and oppression and used his creative efforts to oppose or mitigate them; and from an enraged heart, he has cried out against such evil implanted in the American society. His writings, despite their apparent pessimism, adhere to a tenacious thread of an unshakable hope for the fulfillment of the American ideal—not only for black people, but for all the oppressed people of the land. All the amiable characters in Hughes‟s work, like Aunt Hager and Sandy Williams, in Not Without Laughter, and Martel, in Emperor of Haiti, plead for love and tolerance as the response to the frustrations encountered by both the races in their daily relationships. Sandy Williams favors the advocates of integration and separation as symbolized in his love for Booker T. Washington, and Frederick Douglass respectively. Aunt Hager and Martel both share the view that white folks and black folks cannot do without each other and both believe that all that matters is love. To impose the power of their belief, both of them use the power of time when they mention their age as if to show that no matter what one has seen, this should not hamper one‟s vision of love and tolerance. Martel says to Jean Jacques Dessalines, “Jean Jacques, I‟m an old man. But in my old age, I dream of a world where no man hurts another, where all know freedom, and black and white men alike will share this earth in peace”(36; Act 1, Scene 1). Like Martel, Aunt Hager sees the importance of each race to the other. She tells Sandy: white folks is white folks, an‟ colored folks is colored, an‟ neither one of ‟em is as bad as t‟ other make out. For mighty nigh seventy years I been knowin‟ both of ‟em, an‟ I CONCLUSION 1 7 6 ain‟t never had no room in ma heart to hate neither white nor colored. .. And I‟s kept a room in ma heart fo‟ ‟em, ‟cause white folks needs us, honey, even if they don‟t know it… I‟s been livin‟ along time in yesterday, Sandy chile, an‟ I knows there ain‟t no room in de world for nothin‟ mo‟n love. (177,181-82; Ch. XVI). Indeed, twentieth-century African Americans have not felt the same sense of irrevocable separation that saddened their forefathers. Yet, race relations in America have always been unstable, governed by underlying conflict since most white Americans have never practically supported the idealized goals of full equality and social justice. Hence, the need for protest has not died out, but has been reshaped by changing opportunities—“economic prosperity and decline, unemployment and labor shortage, war and peace, changing international climates, and competition from other issues” (Blumberg 2). Black protest has begun to roll back the shade of separation between black and white citizens. However, the road has been extremely rough, the costs enormously high. The pressures of social animosity and the economic, social, and political advantages occurring to those who sustain the color line make it continue to exist in spite of the valuable gains done in this domain; and for this reason, a new day of racial equality and integration in America is a far-fetched dream (Rose 114). In the words of Douglass S. Massey: If segregation is permitted to continue, poverty inevitably will deepen and become more persistent within a large share of the black community, crime and drugs will become more firmly rooted, and social institutions will fragment further under the weight of deteriorating conditions. As racial inequalities sharpen, the fears of whites will grow, racial prejudices will be reinforced, and hostility toward blacks will increase, making the problems of racial justice and equal opportunity even more insoluble. Until we decide to end the long reign of American apartheid, we cannot hope to move forward as a people and a nation. (Higham ed. 116) CONCLUSION 1 7 7 However, Hughes, who clutches to the belief that the United States will soon fulfill the Negro‟s hopes and dreams through democratic process, tends not to admit this bleak vision rather than to express hope for the future. He, a representative of blacks and their unwavering hopefulness despite the incredible inhumanity displayed towards them, is inclined to reflect a tenacious thread of hope to which most, if not all, of the black people utterly cling. He says: We want a new and better America, where there won‟t be any poor, where there won‟t be any more Jim Crow, where there won‟t be any lynching, where there won‟t be any munition makers, where we won‟t need philanthropy, nor charity, nor the New Deal, nor Home Relief. We want an America that will be ours, a world that will be ours—we Negro workers and white workers, black writers and white! We‟ll make that world. . (qtd. in Henry ed. 20) In this way, black struggle will continue. Black protest, like any other social movement, is not linear; it revolves into circles, and will never die out as long as its grievances persist. Even if it sometimes looks quiet, it merely waits till the environment becomes conducive to open protest. Now the question that comes to the fore is: when, where, and in what form will the struggle resurface. |