I had not read Malcolm X's
autobiography before this class, so when I did finally start it was
surprising how familiar the story felt to me. Not because I was well
acquainted with his personal narrative; my school, like many in
Texas, never mentioned Malcolm X in the few classes where we covered
civil rights at all. Rather, his story is one that has been used by
other writers, because it doesn't just encompass Malcolm X as an
individual, but the time period he lived in. It was familiar to me
because I had been exposed to stories of black right's, to stories of
unbearable racism and need. I do not mean by these words to be
reductive; Malcolm's story is not one of the “definitive black
experience”, or even of the majority's experience during his
lifetime. Rather, I'd make the claim that his life experiences were
not wholly unique (before, perhaps, his pilgrimage and his travels to
Africa which stand out as being beyond what many have and will
experience) and after his death his autobiography helped shape
African American literature.
What specifically struck me
in the passages assigned, what felt so very familiar, were these
“Blood Brothers” whose actions had been pinned on Malcolm. The
autobiography is very detached about them, which makes sense given
that Malcolm is made aware of them while he is abroad.
“In Lagos, I was greeted by Professor Essein-Udom . . . at his
home, that evening, a dinner was held in my honor . . . a young
doctor asked me if I knew that New York City's Press was highly upset
about a recent killing in Harlem of a white woman – for which,
according to the press, many were blaming me at least indirectly. An
elderly white couple who owned a Harlem clothing store had been
attacked by several young Negroes, and the wife was stabbed to death.
Some of these young Negroes, apprehended by the police, had described
themselves as belonging to an organization the called 'Blood
Brothers' . . . I told the dinner guests that it was my first word of
any of it, but that I was not surprised when violence happened in any
of America's ghettoes, where black men had been living packed like
animals and treated like lepers.”
It is Malcolm's response
specifically that reminds me of Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon,
specifically the group
that co-opts Guitar, the
“Seven Days”. For
those of you unfamiliar with the story, “The Seven Days” is a
violent activist group consisting of seven anonymous members. These members use the days of the week, rather than their names, and each commits a crime on their namesake day. Their
job is to take revenge for senseless white crimes against the black
community, specifically murder. For
instance, if a black man is killed by a white man, or a group of
white people, than the “Seven Days” would
find a white man to kill in retaliation.
Should
a black couple be killed, the “Seven Days” would find a white
couple.
The idea of a life
for a life, of finding ways to reclaim agency when the court system
has failed, are what these situations have in common.
Whereas the normative
voice in Song of Solomon
seems to reject the path taken by “Seven Days” it does not vilify
the participants, but portrays them as victims of a violent life.
This same view rings out in the last line of the quote above.
Violence in the ghettos is a result of oppressing and “caging” a
portion of the population when they feel they cannot escape or change
their circumstances through “legitimate” (e.g. legal) means.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.