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Books by Sam
Greenlee
The Spook Who Sat By the Door /
Ammunition! Poetry and Other Raps
Baghdad Blues: A Novel /
Blues for an African Princess
"Be-bop man/be-bop woman" 1968-1993: Poetry and
other raps
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Autumn Leaves
By Sam Greenlee
The soft Indian summer breeze moved in from Lake Mendota
and across the campus, brisk and with the faint sharp
smell of winter only a short time away. Don watched a
leaf break away from a limb and float to the ground. He
switched his books to his left hand and let the sounds
of the students greeting one another as they moved
across the campus break into his thoughts. He realized
once again how natural it had all seemed and how much he
had taken such things for granted for what now seemed
centuries ago.
It seemed at least that long but he knew that it had
been not more than a month when he’d reported for
freshman football practice. The almost deserted campus
had been lonely as only a college campus can be without
students; deserted, empty, stagnant. It was as unlike
as a football with no air, discarded and forgotten and
lost in a closet during the summer months, as one
inflated, floating high as if almost alive; a
well-driven punt, with a thundering herd on the way as
you waited for it to float into your waiting, impatient
hands
Don had known it would be different when the other
students began returning for registration and it had
been. He’d discovered for the first time that the
difference between loneliness in a crowd and loneliness
in a place without people is a difference in intensity;
a comparison of pain, that of the dull, annoying ache of
shin splints along the shin bone that comes from running
on a hard surface, that could be ignored completely in a
game and the sharp biting pain of a pulled muscle that
slowed you down, held you back, no matter how tightly
taped.
Loneliness was pain and like all pain you could learn to
live with it, but he could never forget its first bite.
When the crowd of returning students first gathered in
the Rathskeller, he stood, a stranger in the midst of
that surging, laughing gathering and had never felt as
lost as he listened to the shouts of greetings, viewed
the warm hugs and handshakes and the questions
concerning mutual summer activities. He hadn’t even had
the compensation of being one of the many other freshmen
that could share the misery of feeling alone, estranged
and the fright of being alien to the warm womb of family
because he’d come to campus early for freshman football
practice and hadn’t shared the closeness of being so new
and so alone. When the other freshmen had made friends
in the long lines during registration, shared cokes or
beer in the Rathskeller to watch with envy the easy
camaraderie of the upperclassmen, he’d been shagging
punts on the practice field.
He walked into the Snack Bar of the Rathskeller and
waited in line for a Coke, scanning the crowd for a
familiar face, then walked toward Terry Bates who’d been
his roommate in the athletic dorm until cut from the
squad because he was too slow for a running back and two
small for a lineman or linebacker. Terry had pledged
his older brother’s fraternity, moved into their frat
house and he’d not seen much of him since that time.
Don walked to their table, said hello to Terry, sat
down, was introduced to his pledge brothers, then
ignored as the conversation switched to the party that
weekend and he was pleased that he had nothing to
contribute because Ann Bennet walked in among several
other girls, a honey-colored glow, laughing that
contagious laugh, with that bewitching glide that had
caught his eye the first time he’d seen her.
Ann’s father taught history and she’d been on campus
before the students began to arrive for the fall
semester. Her father had been an all-conference running
back years before and Ann was often with him when he
came out to watch freshman practice. She’d led an
orientation tour for a group of the football freshmen
was in his English and History classes and they’d
developed a speaking acquaintance that had progressed to
the small talk stage. He’d called her twice, had been
gently refused a date and the more he saw of her the
more he wanted to see of her.
His glass was as empty as the talk at the table so he
got up and walked to Ann’s table. In high school he’d
always laughed when other boys described their
difficulty in approaching a girl they’d found
attractive, but now he felt just as he did before
kickoff, his stomach tense, mouth dry, a bit frightened.
“Hello, Ann, how are you?” he muttered.
“Hi,” she returned. “How’s English coming? Finished
your theme paper yet?”
He responded and
wondered what to say next if she didn’t ask him to sit
down. He could see her companions staring and he
wondered what they were thinking, his hand moist on his
books.
He found himself
looking to see the color of her eyes, dark brown, almost
black. He suddenly knew that she wouldn’t ask him to
join them so he moved off stammering something about the
theme paper.
“Who was that
Ann?” One of her companions asked. “He’s kinda cute.”
“Gee, I can never
remember his name. He’s in a couple of my classes and
on the freshman football squad.” She pondered a moment,
she should know his name; however, it wasn’t really
important.
“Anybody want
another coke?” She asked.
Don watched through
slit-opened eyes as his ankles were being taped, feeling
himself withdrawing into that tight-wound space as the
kickoff approached. It would continue until everything
would become hazy and far off and he’d feel as if he
would drift off into a deep sleep. He always wondered
about pre-game tension described as “butterflies” in the
stomach because his stomach only felt tight, as if the
muscles had frozen in place and it would be that way
until he was hit, threw a block, caught a pass or ran
with the ball, a thing he loved.
He pulled on his
shoulder pads and tried to think about Ann Bennet but he
couldn’t because today’s game kept crowding in. Today
was not a scrimmage but competition under game
conditions; the freshman and varsity squads had been
combined and divided into equal teams and his
performance today depended on being kept or cut from the
squad. He’d never been a practice star and he was on
the short list he knew because he was the kind of
athlete no one noticed in practice, who never seemed to
have the drive, speed and fire that was ignited from the
first time he ran in a real game. All he wanted was his
hands on the ball.
He sat on the bench
waiting to be called; his eyes half-closed slits and he
seemed almost not to breathe. He was in the huddle at
last and the mixed smell of grass and sweat quickened
his pulse. His play was called; he licked his lips,
smiled slightly as they broke the huddle and lined up.
He moved forward
hard, seeming to hear the signal after he’d begun his
motion. The quarterback was almost too slow moving
around for the handoff because Don had never moved that
fast in their endless drills in practice. He hit the
hole full speed and watched Steve Johnson move in for
the hit in the deceptive speed that had earned him
All-Conference honors three years in a row. Don
head-faked to the left, Johnson took the fake and Don
drove hard to the right, felt the arm slap his leg but
he was free and knew he would go all the way and he
could anticipate the feeling once he was in the clear
and the goal line ahead. He watched the corner back and
safety moving in, headed for the sideline, then cut back
and was free!
Don looked across
the lake, wondering how long it would be before it was
frozen and students would be skating on its surface, ice
fishing and skate sailing as in the photographs in the
catalogue the registrar had forwarded. He thought of
the girl in his last class who’d never spoken to him
previously and how she’d smiled so warmly,
congratulating him on his game, of the people who’d
never spoken to him before and how everyone suddenly
seemed to know his name. It was easy, he’d discovered;
the transition from someone no one knew the day before
into someone everyone pretended to know. All you had to
do was score three touchdowns in a football game!
He was disgusted;
this was the place the catalogue had described as where
you found lifelong friendships but it had said nothing
about bringing along a football! He felt so homesick
for the hood and his family and friends that he wanted
to throw his books across campus.
His desk lamp threw
weird shadows on the walls and the book lay open to the
same page as an hour before. He thought of the girl of
that afternoon in his French class and how she’d told
him three times in which dorm she lived and how they
were having open house that Sunday and why didn’t he
stop by because she’d love to show him the place and
meet her friends and maybe they could study together
sometime because he seemed to be so good in French and
she was just lost and how did it feel to score three
touchdowns in one game and she bet he’d make
All-Conference his first season just like the papers
said.
He thought of all
the back slaps and handshakes and Terry’s brother who’d
urged him to come to the fraternity rush because he was
just the type man his fraternity sought.
It was easy three
touchdowns!
The buzzer on the
wall sounded and he walked down the hall to the phone on
the wall. It was Ann and he felt his palms begin to
sweat. Why hadn’t he called lately and how did he like
the campus and how was English coming along and
congratulations on his marvelous performance in the game
and then it was difficult remembering the rest;
something about a party that weekend and would he be her
date and he was hating himself more than her for saying
yes.
Three touchdowns!
He walked back to
his room, the bitterness a knot in his throat and he
thought of calling her and breaking the date. He
thought of this for a while and smiled at her imagined
reaction. He sat at the desk and read for a time; then
he stood, walked to the closet and fingered through his
ties. The blue and red rep would go well with his dark
blue suit. He would have to look sharp this weekend.
First published
Negro Digest, January 1967
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|
Greenlee co-wrote a
screenplay adaptation of the novel, and in 1973
The Spook Who Sat by
the Door was released on film. The film was an overnight
success
when it was released but was unexpectedly taken out of distribution. |
 |
For those uninitiated to this
film, or the book it is based upon, here's a quick summary...
A White U.S. Senator, looking to improve his standing among Black
voters, sponsors a drive for the CIA to recruit Black agents.
However, everyone is graded on a curve, so all are condemned to
flunk...save for soft-spoken Dan Freeman. After going through
grueling training in self-defence, guerilla warfare and underground
operations, he is recruited to be a "reproduction chief" (he runs a
photocopier in the sub-basement), and serves the CIA as a token
Black employee (the term "spook" used here is both a racial slur,
and a slang term for a spy).
After 5 years, he leaves the CIA to work in his native Chicago for a
social services agency...by day. By night, he's using his CIA
training to teach a street gang to be the vanguard in an upcoming
race war...
Understandably, this film raised a lot of fears among Whites when
released, and despite box office success, it vanished from
distribution after only three weeks. The film-makers insist it was
pressure on the film's distributors by the FBI and their COINTELPRO
program against Black Nationalist groups.
Long available only on bootleg video copies and screened only on
college campuses, it became an underground classic. And now, it's
legitimately available on DVD.
The DVD includes the rarely seen coming attractions trailer and TV
spot, as well as interviews with the book's author, Sam Greenlee (in
his 70's and still as vocal as he ever was!) and film-maker Robert
Townsend, who says that this film literally changed his life.
Believe the hype! This film was made against the odds (The producer
struggled just to make payroll, and the outdoor scenes in Chicago
were shot without permits!), and despite the years, has not lost any
of it's punch!—Steven F. Scharff
* *
* * *
Sam
Greenlee—novelist, poet, screenwriter,
journalist, teacher and talk show host—was born 13 July 1930 in Chicago.
He attended Chicago public schools. At age fifteen, Greenlee
participated in his first sit-in and walked his first picked line. His
social activism continues. In 1952, Greenlee received his B.S. in
political science from the University of Wisconsin and the following
year attended law school. He transferred to the University of Chicago to
study international relations from 1954 to 1957. In 1957, he began a
seven-year career with the U.S. Information Agency as a foreign services
officer, serving in Iraq, Bangladesh, Indonesia and Greece, and in 1958
he was awarded the Meritorious Service Award for bravery during the
Baghdad revolution.
Greenlee's novel
The Spook Who Sat By the Door, was published in 1968.
Prize-winning its fictionalization of an urban-based war for African
American liberation became an underground favorite. Greenlee co-wrote a
screenplay adaptation of the novel, and in 1973
The Spook Who Sat by
the Door was released on film. The film was an overnight success
when it was released but was unexpectedly taken out of distribution.
Greenlee has written numerous novels, stage plays, screenplays and
poems. He moved back to Chicago after several years of voluntary exile
in Spain and West Africa and is hosted a radio talk show program. He is
presently working on his autobiography.
* * *
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On YouTube
The Spook Who Sat
by the Door /
Part 2 of 11
/
Part 3 of 11 /
Part 4 of
11 /
Part 5 of 11 /
Part 6 of
11
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|
Tracy Chapman—This Time
This Time
By Tracy Chapman
This time
I won't show I'm vulnerable
This time
I won't give in first
This time
I will hold out with my love
This time
I will not be hurt
I'm gonna love myself
More than anyone else
I'm gonna treat me right
I'm gonna make you say
That you love me first
And you'll be the one with the most to
lose tonight
This time
This time
I won't let my emotions rule my life
This time
I'm gonna keep my heart looked safe
inside
This time
I'm gonna be my own best friend
This time
I'm gonna be the one
To win
Your love
Your affection
To hide
My fear
Of rejection
This time |
* * *
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Sam Greenlee
(born July 13, 1930) is an African American writer,
best known for his novel The
Spook Who Sat by the Door, first published in London by Allison
& Busby in March 1969, which was made into the 1973
movie of the same name and won
The Sunday Times Book of the Year award. Other
works include
Baghdad Blues, a 1976 novel based on his
experiences traveling in
Iraq in the 1950s, Blues for an African
Princess, a 1971 collection of poems, and
Ammunition, a 1975 collection of poems. In 1990
Greenlee was the
Illinois
poet laureate.
Born in
Chicago, Greenlee attended the
University of Wisconsin (BS, political science,
1952) and the
University of Chicago (1954-7). He is a member
of
Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc. He served in
the military (1952-4), earning the rank of first
lieutenant, and subsequently worked for the
United States Information Agency, serving in
Iraq (in 1958 he was awarded the
Meritorious Service Medal for bravery during the
Baghdad revolution),
Pakistan,
Indonesia, and
Greece between 1957 and 1965. He undertook
further study (1963-4) at the
University of Thessaloniki, in Greece, where he
lived for three years.—Wikipedia
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* *
|
Ammunition: Poetry and Other Raps
By Sam Greenlee
Greenlee is also
known for such works as
Blues for an African Princess
(1971), a collection of poems. His novel
Baghdad Blues (1976) and
Ammunition: Poetry and Other Raps
(1975) both deal with African
Americans’ pain, anger, and fear,
particularly that of those who are
caught up in the racism and oppression
of government agencies.
Greenlee's contributions to the literary
tradition in African American literature
have caused his readers to examine
closely the racial awareness or
unawareness within agencies and
institutions that are designed to serve
all Americans. His presentation of
African Americans’ duality and
paradoxical existence in a racist
society is still providing scholars with
text to investigate the themes of
racism. Greenlee is masterful in his
presentation of characters and
community; his work is saturated with
the African American literary tradition.—Answers |
 |
* * *
* *
Sam Greenlee is
relaxed. He sits lotus style on a rainbow-striped
blanket, rolling cigarettes and talking in
reflective, short streams about the rage that fueled
his 1969 underground classic The
Spook Who Sat by the Door. "I planted the seed and I'll live to
see it grow," says Greenlee. The seed was a portrait
of a black CIA agent who trains a Chicago street
gang to orchestrate a Mau Mau-style war on whitey.
Its growth was stunted, Greenlee has long contended,
by a campaign to keep the 1973 film version of the
book out of theaters. "They haven't discouraged me,"
says Greenlee, 63. "I'm old but I'm not tired. I'm
satisfied with my career, I've done the right
thing."
Growing up in
the 30s and 40s in west Woodlawn, Greenlee lived an
"idyllic" childhood filled with Sunday school, Boy
Scouts, and the rural, southern values of his
parents. He went to Englewood High and earned a
track scholarship to the University of Wisconsin in
1948. He began a graduate degree in international
relations at the University of Chicago. "I went to
two white, brainwashing institutions. But I'm the
black dog that didn't fall for Pavlov's scam," he
says with a chuckle.
Greenlee joined
the foreign service in 1957. "I wanted to see the
world," he says, stroking his silver beard. "Baghdad
was my first post; they were having a revolution. I
was in Pakistan and Greece while both countries were
having a coup. What I've lived is far more exciting
than anything I could make up."
After eight
years, he left the foreign service but stayed on the
Greek island of Mykonos, where he began writing his
first novel. "I never could write while I was
surrounded by those people," he says of his
colleagues. "I was so enraged when I came home every
night. I was watching them undermine whole cultures.
The U.S. is the biggest threat to world peace there
is."—the
relaxed rage of Sam Greenlee
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* *
 |
Baghdad Blues
The Revolution That Brought Saddam
Hussein to Power
By Sam Greenlee
This book is based on the real life
experience of a black man posted to
Baghdad in the late 1950s and employed
by the US Information Bureau. His white
colleagues are totally out of touch with
the emerging political unrest protesting
the corrupt royalist regime and when the
revolution erupts, the US embassy is
shocked. The king it supports is killed
and the entire city of Baghdad is
plunged into political chaos and
violence. Sam Greenlee is a most
engaging story teller...a very
interesting read! Gives insight into
Saddam Hussein's ability to rise to
power given the preceding historical
events.—amazon
customer |
On YouTube
The Spook Who Sat
by the Door /
Part 2 of 11
/
Part 3 of 11 /
Part 4 of
11 /
Part 5 of 11 /
Part 6 of
11
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posted 29 October 2010 |
