Biography
1920s
First
published in The Crisis in 1921, the verse that would become Hughes’s signature
poem, “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”, appeared in his first book of poetry The
Weary Blues in 1926
The
Negro Speaks of Rivers
I’ve
known rivers:
I’ve
known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow
of human blood in human veins.
My
soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I
bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I
built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I
looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I
heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
bosom
turn all golden in the sunset.
I’ve
known rivers:
Ancient,
dusky rivers.
My
soul has grown deep like the rivers.
Hughes’
life and work were enormously influential during the Harlem Renaissance of the
1920s alongside those of his contemporaries, Zora Neale Hurston, Wallace
Thurman, Claude McKay, Countee Cullen, Richard Bruce Nugent, and Aaron Douglas,
who, collectively, (with the exception of McKay), created the short-lived
magazine Fire!!Devoted to Younger Negro Artists.
Hughes
and his contemporaries were often in conflict with the goals and aspirations of
the black middle class, and of those considered to be the midwives of the
Harlem Renaissance, W. E. B. Du Bois, Jessie Redmon Fauset, and Alain LeRoy
Locke, whom they accused of being overly fulsome in accommodating and
assimilating Eurocentric values and culture for social equality. A primary
expression of this conflict was the former’s depiction of the “low-life”, that
is, the real lives of blacks in the lower social-economic strata and the
superficial divisions and prejudices based on skin color within the black
community.Hughes wrote what would be considered the manifesto for him and his
contemporaries published in The Nation in 1926,
The
Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain:
The
younger Negro artists who create now intend to express
our
individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame.
If
white people are pleased we are glad. If they are not,
it
doesn’t matter. We know we are beautiful. And ugly, too.
The
tom-tom cries, and the tom-tom laughs. If colored people
are
pleased we are glad. If they are not, their displeasure
doesn’t
matter either. We build our temples for tomorrow,
strong
as we know how, and we stand on top of the mountain
free
within ourselves.
Hughes
was unashamedly black at a time when blackness was démodé, and he didn’t go
much beyond the themes of black is beautiful as he explored the black human
condition in a variety of depths. His main concern was the uplift of his people
who he judged himself the adequate appreciator of and whose strengths,
resiliency, courage, and humor he wanted to record as part of the general American
experience. Thus, his poetry and fiction centered generally on insightful views
of the working class lives of blacks in America, lives he portrayed as full of
struggle, joy, laughter, and music. Permeating his work is pride in the African
American identity and its diverse culture. “My seeking has been to explain and
illuminate the Negro condition in America and obliquely that of all human
kind,” Hughes is quoted as saying. Therefore, in his work he confronted racial
stereotypes, protested social conditions, and expanded African America’s image
of itself; a “people’s poet” who sought to reeducate both audience and artist
by lifting the theory of the black aesthetic into reality. An expression of
this is the poem My People
My
People
The
night is beautiful,
So
the faces of my people.
The
stars are beautiful,
So
the eyes of my people
Beautiful,
also, is the sun.
Beautiful,
also, are the souls of my people.
Moreover,
Hughes stressed the importance of a racial consciousness and cultural
nationalism absent of self-hate that united people of African descent and
Africa across the globe and encouraged pride in their own diverse black folk
culture and black aesthetic. Langston Hughes was one of the few black writers
of any consequence to champion racial consciousness as a source of inspiration
for black artists. His African-American race consciousness and cultural
nationalism would influence many foreign black writers,
1930s
In
1930, his first novel, Not Without Laughter, won the Harmon Gold Medal for
literature. The protagonist of the story is a boy named Sandy whose family must
deal with a variety of struggles imposed upon them due to their race and class
in society in addition to relating to one another. Hughes first collection of
short stories came in 1934 with The Ways of White Folks. These stories provided
a series of vignettes revealing the humorous and tragic interactions between
whites and blacks. Overall, these stories are marked by a general pessimism
about race relations, as well as a sardonic realism.
1940s
The
same year Hughes established his theatre troupe in Los Angeles, his ambition to
write for the movies materialized when he co-wrote the screenplay for Way Down
South. Further hopes by Hughes to write for the lucrative movie trade were
thwarted because of racial discrimination within the industry. Through the
black publication Chicago Defender, Hughes in 1943 gave creative birth to Jesse
B. Semple, often referred to and spelled Simple, the everyday black man in
Harlem who offered musings on topical issues of the day. He was offered to
teach at a number of colleges, but seldom did.
1950s
and 1960s
Chinua
Achebe was one of the many African American and African writers whom Hughes
heavily influenced. Much of his writing was inspired by the rhythms and language
of the black church, and, the blues and jazz of that era, the music he believed
to be the true expression of the black spirit; an example is “Harlem”
(sometimes called “Dream Deferred”) from Montage of a Dream Deferred (1951),
from which a line was taken for the title of the play A Raisin in the Sun.
What
happens to a dream deferred?
Does
it dry up
like
a raisin in the sun?
Or
fester like a sore
And
then run?
Does
it stink like rotten meat?
Or
crust and sugar over
like
a syrupy sweet?
Maybe
it just sags
like
a heavy load.
Or
does it explode?
During
the mid-1950s and -1960s, Hughes’ popularity among the younger generation of
black writers varied as his reputation increased worldwide. With the gradual
advancement toward racial integration, many black writers considered his
writings of black pride and its corresponding subject matter out of date. They
considered him a racial chauvinist. He in turn found a number of writers like
James Baldwin lacking in this same pride, over intellectualizing in their work,
and occasionally vulgar.
Hughes
wanted young black writers to be objective about their race, but not scorn or
to flee it. He understood the main points of the Black Power movement of the
1960s, but believed that some of the younger black writers who supported it
were too angry in their work. Hughes’ posthumously published Panther and the
Lash in 1967 was intended to show solidarity and understanding with these
writers but with more skill and absent of the most virile anger and terse
racial chauvinism some showed toward whites. Hughes still continued to have
admirers among the larger younger generation of black writers who he often
helped by offering advice to and introducing to other influential persons in
the literature and publishing communities. This latter group, who happened to
include Alice Walker who Hughes discovered, looked upon Hughes as a hero and an
example to be emulated in degrees and tones within their own work.
One
of the most promising of the young Negro poets said to me once, “I want to be a
poet–not a Negro poet,” meaning, I believe, “I want to write like a white
poet”; meaning subconsciously, “I would like to be a white poet”; meaning
behind that, “I would like to be white.” And I was sorry the young man said
that, for no great poet has ever been afraid of being himself. And I doubted
then that, with his desire to run away spiritually from his race, this boy
would ever be a great poet. But this is the mountain standing in the way of any
true Negro art in America–this urge within the race toward whiteness, the
desire to pour racial individuality into the mould of American standardization,
and to be as little Negro and as much American as possible.
The
Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain By Langston Hughes, The Nation, 23 June
1926 [In 1926, the Harlem Renaissance was in full flower; the poet Langston
Hughes was one of its central figures. In this essay, Hughes urges black
intellectuals and artists to break free of the artificial standards set for
them by whites.]
‘The
New Negro Movement’
“Harlem
as a site of the black cultural sublime was invented by writers and artists
determined to transform the stereotypical image of Negro Americans at the turn
of the century away from their popular image as ex-slaves, as members of a race
inherently inferior – biologically and environmentally unfitted for mechanized
modernity and its cosmopolitan forms of fluid identity – into an image of a
race of cultural bearers. To effect this transformation, a ‘New Negro’ was
called for – quite urgently, many black intellectuals felt- and this New Negro
would need a nation over which to preside. And that nation’s capital would be
Harlem, that realm north of Central Park, centered between 130th Street and
145th.”
“In
a 1925 essay entitled ‘The New Negro’, Howard University Professor of
Philosophy Alain Locke described this transformation as not relying on older
time-worn models but, rather, embracing a ‘new psychology’ and ‘new sprit’.
Central to Locke’s prescription was the mandate that the ‘New Negro’ had to
‘smash’ all of the racial, social and psychological impediments that had long
obstructed black achievement. Six years prior to Locke’s essay, the pioneering
black film maker Oscar Micheaux called for similar changes. In his film Within
our Gates, Micheaux represented a virtual cornucopia of ‘New Negro’ types: from
the educated and entrepreneurial ‘race’ man and woman to the incorrigible Negro
hustler, from the liberal white philanthropist to the hard core white racist.
Micheaux created a complex, melodramatic narrative around these types in order
to develop a morality tale of pride, prejudice, misanthropy and progressivism
that would be revisited by Locke and others.”
“This
New Negro movement, which took at least three forms before Alain Locke
enshrined it in the Harlem Renaissance in 1925, took its artistic inspiration
from citizens across the Atlantic in Europe. First, in the early 1890s, Dvorák
declared the spirituals to be America’s first authentic contribution to world
culture and urged classical composers to draw upon them to create sui generis
symphonies. A decade later Pablo Picasso stumbled onto ‘dusky Manikins’ at an
an ethnographic museum and forever transformed European art, as well as
Europe’s official appreciation of the art from the African continent. Picasso’s
Les Demoiselles d’Avignon – the signature painting in the creation of Cubism –
stands as a testament to the shaping influence of African sculpture and to the
central role that African art played in the creation of modernism. The Cubist
mask of modernism covers a black Bantu face. African art -ugly,primitive,
debased in 1900; sublime, complex, valorized by 1910 – was transformed so
dramatically in the cultural imagination of the West, in such an astonishingly
short period, that potential for the political use of black art and literature
in America could not escape the notice of African American intellectuals,
especially Du Bois, himself himself educated in Europe and cosmopolitan to the
core, and Alain Locke, Harvard-trained, a Rhodes scholar at Oxford in 1906 and
thereafter a student of aesthetics in Germany in the heady years of the
modernist explosion. If European modernism was truly a mulatto, the argument
went, then Africans Americans would save themselves politically through the creation
of the arts. The Harlem Renaissance, in so many ways, owes its birth to
Euro-African modernism in the visual arts. This Renaissance, the second in
black history, would fully liberated the Negro – at least its advance guard.”
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