This article provides background on Amiri Baraka, a prominent Black poet and political activist. It discusses the controversy sparked by his poem "Somebody Blew Up America," which was criticized for being anti-Semitic. Baraka has faced calls to resign as New Jersey's poet laureate over the poem. The article provides an overview of Baraka's career and accomplishments as a major American literary figure, and his evolution as an artist from the Beat movement to embracing Black nationalism. It also discusses his views on the current state of Black literature and challenges facing Black artists.
bell hooks discusses her love books and career in wide-ranging interview
1. EDITING SAMPLES
What's love got to do with it? A conversation with writer/painter/ cultural critic bell hooks about her
love books. (Brief Article)(Interview)
Black Issues Book Review
March 1, 2002 | Dauphin, Gary
It's an old saw, but bell hooks really is the hardest-working woman in academia. At just under 50, she's
already the author of over 20 books, ranging from the groundbreaking Ain't I A Woman: Black Women
and Feminism--started when she was only 19--to dozens of works on feminist theory, art and race. She
has even found time in between to paint--Changing the Subject, a limited edition collection of her
artwork appeared in 1994--and pen two children's books.
Her latest release, Communion: The Female Search for Love, completes a trilogy of works about the
loving souls of black women and men that she began with All About Love: New Visions and Salvation:
Black People and Love. For a writer who for a long time was better-known in women's studies
departments than on the bustling streets of Manhattan where she lives and writes, the "Love Books" are
certified crossover hits. Communion, outranks Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center by several orders
of magnitude on Amazon's list.
Before the "Love Books," hooks occupied an odd place in the black intellectual firmament. And the
success of the love trilogy puts her in an even odder, albeit more professionally enviable position. For
one thing, the recent tiff between Cornel West and Harvard's president illustrates that too much work
and popular acclaim can be bad for a black academic's reputation.
In 1995, lefty academic Adolph Reed lumped hooks in with West and Henry Louis Gates Jr., in a rather
nasty attack wherein he likened their stardom to minstrelsy. Reed curiously reserved his most virulent
criticism for hooks, despite the fact that--from a purely material standpoint--she's barely a blip oil the
academic-industrial radar screen compared to the West/Gates juggernauts.
Then there's the fact that those who cut their teeth on the difficult theoretical prose that made hooks'
reputation, seem to find the love books' sentimentality something of a departure. Black Issues Book
Review sat down with hooks to ask her what, if anything, love has to do with it.
BIBR: So why write three books about love?
bh: I've gotten more curious about it as I've gotten older. I have questions about how love fits into my
life, black peoples lives, like: What makes people live? What makes them change? I look at my parent s--
as f--ed up as they are--they've maintained their commitment to all of their children through all of our
dramas, and I'm impressed by that. I don't know what it's like to be committed to someone for 50 years,
right down to stupid little things like my mother sending each of us our little Christmas box every year
for all that time. It's really amazing to me now. l look at that and wonder, who could I be faithful to for
50 years?
2. BIBR: Is thinking and writing about love a step away from the themes of race and class that marked your
earlier work?
bh: Well, I feel like all my books have talked about love. Love allows people to sustain life, that capacity
to connect through love. l think about what Martin Luther King did for people. He got people to feel like
they could go and sit at those counters. I don't know if I could get up from this table and go sit
somewhere and be spit upon and beat upon. But that was love in action. We can do all this stuff today
because some black people and white people had the will to say: "We will love in this way."
I didn't always know that love had those kinds of implications. I remember as an undergraduate, I used
to think: F--k Martin Luther King. That's blase Gimme my Nkrumah and my Malcolm! And now when I go
back to King's writings, I see he was writing about love, but also about new technologies and the
dangers of militarism. Contrast that to the black men who've come to power in our loveless age--Colin
Powell: fascist, Farrakhan: fascist.
BIBR: You think we live in a loveless age?
bh: Completely. Black people would get really mad at me when l would talk about my sister who teaches
in the schools in Flint, Michigan. When I visit her, I'll go to her school and I meet these kids, really young
kids who think love is a f--ing joke. Little black kids are incredibly cynical about love. They'll tell you
there's no such thing as love, Love is like Santa Claus: there ain't no Santa Claus, and there ain't no love.
Don't even try it!" And they're proud of thinking that. They feel that it's a badge of their black identity.
They remind me of when I was kid in school and other kids would tell me, "You're not black, you talk
white." This is how extreme we've become in associating blackness with pain. There's no space in our
culture or our imaginations to associate blackness with love, with desire. We can dramatize pain, but we
can't articulate the desire for love. It sounds too soft and Pollyannaish.
BIBR: Did you worry about sounding soft with file love books?
bh: Sometimes people tell me these books are shit, which hurts me. But I feel lucky, too, because the
biggest black supporters of my love books have been working-class people who are in touch with their
own pain. I'm having to argue with "so-called evolved and smart" friends to get them to even consider
that they might be dealing with pain. But black men who've spent their entire lives in the corners of
factories came out when I was on tour with Salvation, because they knew what I was talking about.
You're not going to get your Harvard-Yale graduates making $50,000 a year to think about the meaning
of their lives.
And that's not about white people and racism. It's about us and what we've failed to deliver to each
other. Not just personally, but in terms of work and art and thought. I look at my body of work and I feel
lucky. At least I delivered--to myself, and the people I love--the best of me. I didn't implode, I didn't
hoard it in some weird academic, elitist safe. I wrote the books l needed to write, and I wrote three
books that reached black folks who had never heard of bell hooks before. So to me, my love books are
like my good Hollywood blockbusters--but with something meaningful to say.
For a complete bibliography of bell hooks work, go to www.bibookreview.com.
Gary Dauphin is a freelance writer who writes about film and African-American culture. His work has
appeared in Vibe, The Village Voice, Essence and Feed magazine. A Haitian-American, he is website
manager at blackplanet.com. He is also working on his first novel. Dauphins feature on feminist bell
hooks begins on page 50.
4. Who knew the World Trade Center was gonna get bombed Who told 4,000 Israeli workers at the Twin
Towers To stay home that day Why did Sharon stay away!
In the white-hot glare of negative publicity, Democratic Governor James McGreevey rebuked Baraka and
called for him to resign his laureate post, knowing that the legislation enacted by former Gov. Christie
Whitman that established the post stipulates that even government pressure can't compel Baraka toquit
Legislation was introduced last October to amend the law to permit the governor to oust Baraka, thus
putting an end to the controversy. A spokesperson for the governor said the bill had the support of both
parties and that it was being put on the fast track to expedite its passage. The governor also froze funds
for the stipend, further punishing the maverick black writer.
Since the furor broke last fall, the pressure on Baraka remains high, with the Jewish Defense League and
popular Jewish newspapers, such as The Jewish World Review, labeling the patriarch of modem black
poetry "New Jersey's bigot laureate." Ten months after the reading, Baraka remains adamant that he
will not resign and that he is fighting for the rights of poets and the First Amendment Ten separate bills
are pending in the state legislature to abolish Baraka's post with a vote expected in February.
When I recently caught up with Baraka at his Newark home after a rousing tribute in Manhattan and
other rallies in his support, the poet was quick to dismiss the fuss as much ado about nothing. "I was
surprised by the total assault led by the Anti-Defamation League," Baraka says. "Their narrow focus
dismissing the whole poem to obsess on four lines, citing the mere mention of Israel as anti-Semitic,
made me understand they are Oshielding Israeli terror, disguising them as 'victims' and the Palestinians
as the terrorists."
On the matter of the bills coming up for a vote in the state legislature, Baraka does not bite his tongue.
"The New Jersey legislature cannot 'end' my tenure nor withhold the honorarium," he notes. "That's
why there is so much noise being made from them. The recent vote of 21 to 0 with 20 abstentions was
to eliminate the poet laureate post. But there is no legislation that can remove me. There are 10 bills in
the New Jersey senate concerning me and the poem, but it is very doubtful that any of them will pass."
Beyond the tabloid headlines, the bickering and the brouhaha over the poem, the legacy of Baraka and
his accomplishments as a ma0jor American literary figure have been overlooked and maligned.
Born Everett Leroy Jones (he changed his name later to LeRoi) in Newark, New Jersey, in 1934, to a
middle-class family, Baraka attended the city's local schools. After his high school graduation in 1951, he
enrolled at the Newark campus of Rutgers University with a science scholarship. A year later, he
transferred to Howard University and focused on English literature, taking classes with noted sociologist
E. Franklin Frazier (Black Bourgeoisie, The Negro Family in the United States). Soon thereafter, Baraka
became disenchanted with the "bourgeois conservative" atmosphere of the school and dropped out in
1954.
Then came a stint in the Air Force, where Baraka was charged with being "a Communist influence"-a
major concern during McCarthyism of the 1950s-and discharged from the service. After his return to
civilian life, he moved to Manhattan's bohemian Lower East Side and became part of the Beat
movement that included writers like Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Frank O' Kara, Gregory Corso and
Diane Di Prima. He also married Hettie Cohen, a union that would last several years and produce two
daughters.
The end of his marriage in 1965 marked Baraka's move uptown and his embrace of black cultural
nationalism as the driving force in his ever-growing number of important works. While the assassination
5. of Malcolm X and widespread riots were rocking America, Baraka was positioning himself as the
spokesman for a new Black Power movement in the arts by creating works such as The System of
Dante's Hell (1965), Tales (1967) and Black Fire (1968), an influential collection of black writing co-edited
by Baraka and Larry Neal. Sometime in the mid-1960s, he changed his name from LeRoi Jones to Amiri
Baraka, which means "blessed prince."
He was a pivotal figure in the election of Newark's neth Gibson in 1970. During the '70s, he re-assessed
his black-na-tionalist stance, criticizing its limitations, and embraced socialism. His message of race
pride, self-determinism and political activism could still be found in the flurry of work published in this
period; books such as In Our Terribleness (1970), Raise Race Rays Raze: Essays Since 1975 and Selected
Poetry of Amiri Baraka/ LeRoi Jones (1979). At a time when many Black Arts Movement writers saw their
talents cool, the poems, plays and essays continued to flow from Baraka, including mesmerizing dramas
like Dutchman and The Slave. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, as he evolved both artistically and
politically, Baraka published Daggers and Javelins: Essays, 1974-1979 (1984), The Autobiography of LeRoi
Jones/ Amiri Baraka (1984), Eulogies (1996) and Six Persons: Novel and Short Stories (1998).
In an almost chameleon-like way, Baraka pushed his stylistic prowess as a poet, essayist and novelist to
the limit. Going from a formal, Beat-influenced approach of startling images and wordplay to a more
verbal, accessible format, which only increased his popularity. Some have criticized this transition as an
example of a former wordsmith's rapid decline. But Baraka sees it differently.
"I have changed over the years because I have struggled to understand and change the world," says
Baraka. "People who question change cannot really be trying to do this. How can you be in the world
and your ideas over the years remain the same," he observes. "Those who question change are
intellectually lazy, or suffer from the passivity of the overstaffed or cryptically satisfied."
While much of his early works are out of print, Baraka notes that part of what has happened has to do
with the consolidation of American publishers and the stress on profits, and what he terms "covers"
(when a white artist duplicates the work of a black artist and becomes more famous) of legitimate work
with sensational imitations. "Black literature has been deeply co-opted by super-structural 'covers' as in
our musk," he says.
"Since Dun & Bradstreet reported that the largest incremental leap in book buyers was among young
black people, the corpses, as in rap, have covered or marginalized and obscured the most serious and
committed young, black artists, with some Negroes committed to self-gratification and 'getting over.' Or
pleasing the master," he suggests. "Their work is superficial, frivolous, and tied to the shallow
commercialism of the mainstream. The so-called mainstream 'covers' its most significant, profound
artists," Baraka adds. "Not only is the Black Arts Movement covered and denigrated by pimp Negroes
and white folks, the Negro writers and artists raised by academic and commercial institutions are
superficial hacks or openly reactionary," he says.
"The historic paradigm of the revolutionary democratic tradition of Afro-American literature is assaulted
and obscured as much as possible," he asserts. "The works of Frederick Douglass, Sterling Brown, W.E.B.
Du Bois, Margaret Walker, Ted Ward, Henry Dumas, Larry Neal, Lorraine Hansberry, Rudolph Fisher,
Wallace Thurman and Claude McKay are mostly hidden. Langston gets mentioned more and more, but
the great works of his in fiction and drama are left untouched. Where are the great plays of Hansberry,
Baldwin, Ward, Bullins and Caldwell," says Baraka, continuing his rant "Instead, we get plays glorifying
the most cowardly sector of the Negro petty bourgeoisie, some even caricaturing great black artists or
opposing the Afro-American liberation itself!"
6. Baraka, who often appears with younger hip-hop poets in performance slams, is more optimistic about
the current state of poetry. "Poetry is alive and well," he says. "Afro-American and Latino poetry is at a
point of artistic excellence and political insurgency. There are hundreds of young black and Latino poets,
some whites as well, creating verses of revolution and resistance. There is no genre of art in the U.S. as
consciously anti-imperialist, antiracist, radical and revolutionary as the work of these poets," he
continues. "As uneven as the TV show Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry is, it still presents an often
exciting flash of new and young, and some not-so-young poets who are now or will be very important
and influential voices."
While others of his generation criticize rap as an art form, he judges the music by the same criteria as
the Black Arts Movement "Rap remains important," says Baraka. "It began as inspiring and innovative, as
a grassroots form with a radical and passionate content I was impressed very early because I knew it
was the poetic genre predicted by the Black Arts: one, black; two, mass-oriented; and three,
revolutionary," he says, in describing the criteria.
"But this new music has been sabotaged, covered by fusion and racist claims of co-origination and
ultimate mastery by others, like R&B was co-opted by rock and roll," he says. "Rap is co-opted by
Eminem and the corporations take hold and use the carrot of money and fame to change the art."
One of the most active and prolific scribes of our time, Baraka cherishes his "down time," painting and
creating artwork, which is rapidly gaining recognition. In fact, he has already had two one-man shows.
He continues to tour in his series of monthly poetry readings as poet laureate, and for the past 15 years,
has helped to coordinate an arts space codirected by his wife, Amina.
Facing the onset of diabetes, the poet is not on insulin and conscientious about what he eats. Relaxation
also means watching old movies, reading three newspapers daily, and an essay or two from Baldwin's
The Price of the Ticket a couple days a week at breakfast. A copy of Fidel Castro's speeches, Ho Chi
Minh's biography or Cabral's writings might be at his bedside, as well poetry from Roque Dalton, Jacques
Roumain, and Linton Kwesi Johnson. As for jazz, he tries to listen to Sun Ra a few times a week, along
with Duke, Coltrane and Monk.
More than anything, Baraka is proud of his marriage to his wife, Amina, who has been his partner and
soul mate for 35 years, and mother of five of his nine children. She has two children from a previous
marriage, and he has four from his first marriage and previous relationships. His son Ras has followed in
his footsteps and is a fine poet who has recorded two poetry CDs, one with Grammy-winning artist
Lauryn Mill. Ras is also a vice principal at a local high school and recently ran for Newark City Council,
but lost by 115 votes. His consolation prize was being appointed deputy mayor by Newark Mayor Sharpe
James. Baraka's eldest son, Obalaji, coaches sports at Shabazz High School in Newark and directs a city
recreation program. Amiri Jr. is CEO of an entertainment company. Shani, his daughter, a former all-
American point guard in college, teaches at Vailsburg Middle School in Newark. Ahi, the youngest son, is
still recovering from a gunshot wound to the head fired by "a knucklehead," says Baraka. Also a writer,
Ahi accompanies Baraka on tour.
James Baldwin once said, "A writer can live a long time on one book and a reputation." That's not the
case with Amiri Baraka. He has a collection of short stories, two essay collections, a book of new and
collected plays, and three novels ready to go. He is also preparing a lawsuit against his old publisher,
William Morrow, for allowing many of his books to go out of print. Even now, he is sitting at his desk,
working on his next poem, his next essay, his next masterpiece.
[Sidebar]
7. Since last fall, Jewish groups have labeled Baraka, "New Jersey's bigot laureate."
[Sidebar]
I have changed over the years, because I have struggled to understand and change the world.
[Sidebar]
Selected Bibliography of Amiri Baraka
Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note, Totem/ Corinth Books, June 1961 (out of print), ASIN 0-870-
91048-5
The Dead Lecturer: Poems Grove Press, October 1964 $6.95, ASIN 0-394-17247-7
The System of Dante's Hell Grove Press, June 1967 $14.90, ASIN 0-394-17110-1
Tales, Grove Press October 1967, $5.95 ASIN 0-394-17150-0
Black Magic: Sabotage, Target Study, Black Art: Collected Poetry, 1961-1967 Bobbs-Merrill Co., June
1969 (out-of-print) ASIN 0-672-50617-3
Raise, Race, Rays, Raze: Essays Since 1965 Random House, Dec. 1971 $24.75, ASIN 0-394-46222-X
Anthology of African American Women: Confirmation Men (with Amina Baraka) William Morrow, March
1983 $12.50, ASIN 0-688-01582-4
Blues People: Negro Music in White America, William Morrow, September 1983 $13.00, ISBN 0-688-
18474-X
Daggers and Javelins: Essays, 1974-1979 William Morrow, April 1984 $27.50, ASIN 0-688-03432-2
The Music: Reflections on Jazz and Blues (with Amina Baraka) William Morrow, May 1987 $15.35, ASIN
0688-04388-7
Transbluesency: The Selected Poems of Amiri Baraka/LeRoi
Jones (edited by Paul Vangelisti) Marsilio Publishers October 1995, $17.95 ISBN 1-568-86014-5
Wise Why's Y's: The Griot's Song Third World Press December 1995, $12.00 ISBN 0-883-78150-6
Eulogies
(edited by Michael Schwartz), Marsilio Publishers November 1996, $22.95 ISBN 1-568-86007-2
Home: Social Essays Ecco Press. February 1998 $14.00, ASIN 0-880-01572-1
Six Persons: Novel and Short Stories, Chicago Review Press, (1998)
The LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka Reader, Thunder's Mouth December 1999 (2nd edition) $16.95, ISBN 1-
560-25238-3
For more information about the author and to purchase his available works, go to
www.amiribaraka.com.
11. African Visions: The Diary of an African Photographer
Black Issues Book Review
January 1, 2003 | Rhodes-Pitts, Sharifa
by Mirella Ricciardi Sterling Publications, September 2002, $24.95, ISBN 1-841-88162-7
African Visions is full of hallucinations, a book both animated and haunted by the failed promise of
colonial fantasies. Photographer Mirella Ricciardi was born in Africa to expatriate parents: her mother,
an heiress throwing off French high society in search of bohemian adventure; her father, a penniless
exile from fascist Italy between the wars.
Kenya, during the glory days of Britain's Crown colony, was the setting for Ricciardi's improbable
childhood, the contradictions of which are best summarized by an innocent childhood picture showing
the author and her sister playing dress up in billowy, oversized white silk gowns and painted lips against
the backdrop of an encroaching dark forest and mountain skyline. The colonial experience can be
likened to this same child's play, reenacting and recreating the luxury of the European home against
incongruous wilderness; a conflicting desire to import civilization, while indulging the freedom offered
by an unfettered existence on the Dark Continent.
This is just part of the melancholy seeping through this photography collection, where if a picture is
worth 1,000 words, the thousands of words offered by way of Ricciardi's "diary" do much to rob the
images of any presumed power. Snippets of Ricciardi's inane prose are actually scrawled across many of
the photo spreads, making it clear that the true subject is always the photographer's tortured psyche
(the guilt and conflict embodied by the white African), and rarely those captured by her lens. Ever
referred to monolithically as "the Africans" or sometimes differentiated as "naked Dinka," "naked
[Maasai] warriors," and also, inevitably "noble" and "elegant," the only individuals to emerge are the
cook "borrowed" from her mother's estate as a companion for photographic safaris, and a young guide
who, when he becomes Ricciardi's lover, inspires the musings, "At one with him, I was at one with
Africa, an experience which never repeated itself in sheer physical intensity. Making love to him, I felt,
was making love to Africa. What did Karen Blixen [author of Out of Africa] know about this, I wondered."
The taboo of colonial sex is often at the heart of many of her images, which often resemble fashion
photography. Despite its weaknesses, and the almost quaint nature of her project, African Visions is an
important document, unwittingly exposing the naive and anguished relationship between Africa and
European settlers.