|
Books by Eugene Redmond
Sides of the River (1969)
/
Sentry of the
Four Golden Pillars (1970) /
River of Bones and Flesh and Blood
(1971) /
Songs
from an Afro/Phone (1972)
In
a Time of Rain & Desire (1973) /
Echo Tree: The Collected Short Fiction of Henry Dumas (2003)
* * * *
*
Eugene B. Redmond.
Drumvoices: The Mission of Afro-American Poetry, A
Critical History .New York: Doubleday, 1976
The poetry of Black America is a
strong and powerful force on the American literary
scene. In
Drumvoices, Eugene Redmond analyzes the works of
such contemporary poets as June Jordan, Quincy Troupe,
Jayne Cortez, Gwendolyn Brooks, Haki Madhubuti, Carolyn
Rodgers, the esteemed Black poets of the Harlem
Renaissance: Countee Cullen, Langston Hughes, Sterling
Brown; as well as the poetic expression of such popular
lyricists/poets as Nina Simone, Ray Charles, Stevie
Wonder, and B.B. King.
Drumvoices offers a critical introduction to
black poetry, including an outline of its historical
development. Redmond, a poet and educator, discusses
trends within the Black literary movement and the social
milieu of the major periods. This exceptional work
thoroughly explores the dynamics of Black poetic
expression through a detailed examination of the meaning
and form of songs, sayings, and poems
—Backcover
Drumvoices
* * *
* *
Conclusion: Afterthoughts
As promised in our Preface, we have
tried to avoid forcing our research and findings into
manicured paradigms and neat frames. However,
Drumvoices does advance theories and theses—many
of them well known and some of them original—for this
study has been termed a critical history; and one must
take stands. Indeed, the poets have taken their
own stands as individuals and groups, since to project
an inner self to the public is to assume a stance; to
work out one's systems of beliefs, perceptions,
relationships, and values within the function or
framework of poetry and poetics. Such stands have always
represented critical choices for poets. And for
Afro-American poets they have created a unique
crisis-continuum in that so many "unusual" factors
attend their written "commitments." One factor was the
apparent self-mockery that initially accompanied the
poets use of written English. for the early bards, there
was the simple—but grave—task of "proving" their ability
to employ literary skills; this test, alas, was
conducted by "liberal" slavemasters, while many states
made black literacy a crime punishable by imprisonment,
beating and, in some cases, even death.
There was
much confusion and misdirection of values and energies
in the earlier poetry: the poets were neither encouraged
nor allowed to retain an African flavor (let alone
language). The Christianization of slaves had aided in
the development of a ghastly "duality"—or wall
between the African and himself—which cluttered the
poets' self-esteem and world-views, indeed sending most
black intellectuals into psychic chaos. This tendency,
called a "veil" by W. E. B. Du Bois, held Afro-American
poetry in a state of moral limbo up through the
beginning of the twentieth century. And though there wee
exceptions (Horton, Whitfield, Whitman, Frances Harper),
anyone with proper background study can understand the
isolationism and alienation of a Phillis Wheatley or a
Jupiter Hammon, who refused freedom for himself but
advocated it for young Blacks. One need only read David
Walker to discover the boundaries of Negro "freedom" in
the "free" states of early America.
In the
meantime, a folk tradition—on the plantations, among
escaped slaves, out of the minstrel era—was also
developing. This folk strain in the poetry (separated by
Wagner from the "spiritualist" vein) has survived as a
conscience, more or less, of Afro-American letters,
philosophy, and art. And even though such critics as
Wagner make false distinctions between the folk and the
literary (or spiritual) realms, all but a few of the
"intellectual" poets have delved into the folk roots and
origins in one way or another. This fact is not as
obvious in such poets as Countee Cullen, Claude McKay,
or Jean Toomer as it is in, say, Paul Lawrence Dunbar,
James Weldon Johnson, Sterling Brown, and Langston
Hughes—but it can be identified. At the same time,
however, the ambivalent attitude toward the Christian
God and white people is as evident in the folk poets as
it is in those steeped in book theology.
Examinations
of the artificial boundaries established between folk
(oral, gesture) poetry and literary (intellectual, book)
poetry has not been pursued with enough intensity by
critics and writers. Just because Europe and larger
America have depreciated communal art forms does not
mean that Afro-American has to follow suit! Or does it?
And, as we stated in the beginning of Chapter VI, the
social-communal value of the poetry has yet to be viewed
in the context of black reading trends and habits. For
we know Black place great emphasis on the dramatic
presentation of a poem. Witness the magnetism and
charisma of poets at live readings and the development
of a national black audience for poetry via such
vehicles as Ellis Haizlip's TV show "Soul."
All the
foregoing statements tie in with our opening remarks
about stands taken by poets. For, if the
transliteration, if you will, of the thought or impulse
to the page results in a reduction of poetic intensity,
then the silent reading of the poem cuts a similar nerve
contact between reader and the originating idea or
instinct. One has only to hear such an "intellectual"
poet as Robert Haydn read his own works to understand
this principle. Our point, then, is that much of the
strait-laced poetry of the early periods has less
meaning for us when it is not delivered in its natural
environments of church services, abolitionist rallies,
choir-singing, dances or social activities. For example,
one should avoid listening to a poor reader present
dialect poems of Dunbar, or Corrothers.
A number of
devices and themes are central to Afro-American poetry.
And while there have been instances (Wheatley, Hammon,
Ann Plato, the Creole poets) of poets' being immune to
the social whirlwind, most Afro-American poets have been
in that whirlwind. Hence, patterns of segregation
in America turned a "curse" into a "blessing" (to
paraphrase Alain Locke) and provided black poets with
private languages, forms, styles, and tones. from the
ditties, blues, spirituals, dozens, sermons, and jokes,
the poets fashioned an endless stream of poetic forms
and fusions (Tolson dressed the Pindaric ode in a blues
form). And that same, segregated pattern gave these
poets their ominous themes and their grave tones and
temperaments, which, coupled with their crisp insight
into America's contradictions and paradoxes, allowed
them to project, to prophesy, and to refine their
"duality" into one of the most powerful aesthetical
tools available to any group of writers.
Hence the
Afro-American poet has his own private (cultural)
symbols and themes as well as those of the larger world.
For example, most black poets have written poems about
lynching, but most Euro-Americans poets have not. themes
related to slavery, job discrimination, the ambivalence
of a Christian God, psychic tumult in a white world,
homelessness and restlessness, poverty reinforced by
oppression, racism, prejudice, rivers and trains,
castration, plus the landscape of terror and fear
resulting from a web of social inequities, all, in one
way or another, work themselves into Afro-American
poetry.
Though
certain forms and themes have historically dominated
Afro-American poetry, unique variations and divergent
approaches characterize the use of them. Outside of the
dominating clusters, however, the poets display myriad
other interests, themes and preoccupations. many of
these trends stem from black family units that have
existed for hundreds of years—even if such a fact is
obscured by a socio-media representation with all its
accompanying pathological emphases. (Any young Black's
critical analysis of white culture includes his own
unstated or implied cultural preferences.)
True,
Africans in the new land have lived the nightmare
amid talk of an American Dream; and, understandably, the
darker poets' songs are full of unpleasantries and
recollections of that nightmare. But the end of black
poetry can never be self-pity, chauvinism, ideology,
rhetoric, or complaint (Baraka says, "The End of Man Is
His Beauty"). Thus Margaret walker, amid her sisters'
use of "safe" female subjects and her brothers' trips to
the altar of the white literati, is able to celebrate
black life (For My People).
Robert Haydn
transcends artificial barriers between himself (and us)
and nature and enters the flower (Night-Blooming
Cereus), as does Henry Dumas in Play Ebony Play
Ivory and Pinkie Gordon Lane in Wind Thoughts.
Other examples of such diversity and sensitivity abound:
Owen Dodson (Powerful Long Ladder), Langston
Hughes (The Dream Keeper), Alice Walker (Once),
Raymond Patterson (26 Ways of Looking at a Black Man),
Joyce Carol Thomas (Blessing), and the
cross-spread of almost any anthology.
We have said
the poet takes a stand not inherent in, say, the
musician's, when he commits his thoughts to paper. And
over the past few years of social change and unrest, the
black poet whose aesthetic or religious position was not
aligned with that of vested interest groups came up
before many a strange court, at which times his own
feelings and sensibilities were often neutralized in
favor of the "popular latex brand." Serious critics and
'cultural stabilizers" need to examine such "one-way
approaches to poetry/criticism, especially as they have
occurred over the past ten years. We mention this "side"
show of the contemporary poetry scene because its
presence has often dirtied the waters of "open" thought
and either crippled or destroyed many a budding talent.
In a few cases it has even muffled a rich or
significant voice. However, it is time the critical
flood gates were "opened" completely and honestly.
Only in this way can Afro-American poetry continue to
breathe the breath of the ancestors.
Finally, as
winds of change shift, speed up, or slow down, and the
"tradition" congeals, readers and poets must ask about
ultimate designs and inherent missions. As the drum
stands at the crossroads of traditional African and
Afro-American culture, so the poet should stand at the
center of the drum. Most poetic principles, and the
language associated with them, rely on the vocabulary of
sound and music. Music is the most shared experience—the
most vital commodity—among Afro-Americans. And poetry is
music's twin. Both the metaphysical and the metaphorical
word stem from and return in measured rumble or anxious
cacophony. Between the lines are the rattle of choruses,
the whine (hum) of guitars, and the shriek of
tambourines, framed by rivers that will not run away.
And the drumvoices urging us to cross them, cross them.
* * *
* *
Contents
| Acknowledgements |
iv |
| Preface |
xiii |
| |
|
| Chapter I |
|
| Black Poetry: Views, Visions,
Conflicts |
1 |
| |
|
| Chapter II |
|
| The Black and Unknown Bards |
17 |
| |
|
| Origins of Black Expression |
17 |
| Black Folk Roots in America |
22 |
| Spirituals |
23 |
| Folk seculars |
27 |
| Folk Anthology Section (Sample) |
34 |
| Spirituals |
34 |
| Go Down Moses |
|
| Slavery Chain |
|
| No More Auction
Block |
|
| Shout Along,
Chillen |
|
| Swing Low,
Sweet Chariot |
|
| Steal Away |
|
| Deep River |
|
| Folk Seculars |
38 |
| He Is My Horse |
|
| Did You Feed My
Cow |
|
| Song |
|
| Many A Thousand
Gone |
|
| Freedom |
|
| Rainbow Roun
Mah Shoulder |
|
| John Henry
Hammer Song |
|
| A Big Fat Mama |
|
| How Long Blues |
|
| |
|
| Chapter III |
|
| African Voice in Eclipse (?):
Imitation and Agitation (1746-1865) |
43 |
| |
|
| Overview |
43 |
| Literary and Social Landscape |
43 |
| The Voice on the Totem |
49 |
| |
|
| Chapter IV |
|
| Jubilees, Jujus, and Justices
(1865-1910) |
85 |
| |
|
| Overview |
85 |
| Literary and Social Landscape |
86 |
| The Voices on the Totem |
91 |
| |
|
| Chapter V |
|
| A Long Ways from Home (1910-1960) |
139 |
| |
|
| Overview |
139 |
| Literary and Social Landscape |
140 |
| To 1930 |
140 |
| From 1930
to 1960 |
147 |
| The Voices on the Totem |
155 |
| The
Coming Cadence: Prerenaissance Voices |
155 |
| Poets, as
Prophets: The Harlem Renaissance |
169 |
| Minor, or
Second-Echelon Poets of the Renaissance |
196 |
|
Renaissance Fallout: Negritude Poets and
Pan-African Writing |
217 |
| The
Extended Renaissance: '30s, '40s, '50s |
221 |
| |
|
| Chapter VI |
|
| Festivals and Funerals: Black Poetry
of the 1960s and 1970s |
294 |
| |
|
| Overview |
294 |
| Literary and Social Landscape |
296 |
| The Voices on the Totem |
309 |
| "Soon One
Morning": Threshold of the New Black Poetry |
309 |
| "Griefs
of Joy": The Poetry of Wings and the Black
Arts Movement |
347 |
|
Reflections on the New Black Poetry |
413 |
| |
|
| Chapter VII |
|
| Conclusion: Afterthoughts |
418 |
| |
|
| Bibliographical Index |
423 |
| General
Research Aids |
423 |
|
Periodicals |
426 |
|
Anthologies |
427 |
| Literary
History and Criticism |
433 |
|
General |
433 |
|
Poetry |
440 |
| Folklore
and Language |
444 |
|
Discography and Tape Index |
448 |
|
Collections (Phonograph) |
448 |
|
Single Poets (Phonograph) |
452 |
|
Single Poets (Tape) |
454 |
| |
|
| Index |
455 |
Source: Eugene
B. Redmond.
Drumvoices: The Mission of Afro-American Poetry, A
Critical History New York: Doubleday, 1976
posted 26 January 2007
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