James Baldwin

To the Editors of the CRIMSON:

Because of the need for forthright discussion of the problems that concern so much of James Baldwin's writing. I would appreciate the opportunity to to Paul Cowan's rejoinder to my letter in the CRIMSON of December 1.

There are four points in Cowan's letter that I would like to comment upon.

(1) Cowan is correct in saying that he and I view Baldwin's terms for defining Negro's situation as a threat to White Americans, but this seems as far as agreement goes between us on this matter. As regards the nature and meaning of the threat of Baldwin's arguments. I think we differ somewhat.

To me the threat is fundamentally a positive one. It seeks to shock the White American from his insulated world of false satisfaction about what little has been done to alter-basically the Negro's human situation. It seeks also to shock him from his irresponsible stance of taking for granted the Negro's plight, and from his belief nothing really earthshaking will occur among Negroes if their reality is not transformed in the near future. In short, Baldwin's aggressive--yet humane and sensitive--definition of the Negro's relationship to American society endeavors to bring White American to a proper comprehension of the Negro's dreadful reality, and to illuminate for them the distance to be travelled and the barriers to be surmounted for a resolution of this reality.

Cowan, on the other hand, takes what is essentially a negative view of the threat Baldwin poses. He appears to see it as tending to rock the boat a little too much--but Cowan seems to have little inkling that in urban Negro America the boat is actually sinking or was never built.

(2) Nowhere in my letter did I imply, as Cowan says, that "neither [Cowan] nor any white man can come to grips with the situation Baldwin portrays." I stated in my letter that White Americans can, should, and must come to grips with Baldwin's portrayal. But they cannot expect to grasp the true meaning and depth of the Negro's situation without experiencing confusion, threats, and perhaps much worse. To think otherwise is, I believe, to deny Baldwin's characterization of the Negro's reality and to seek shelter under a retarded variant of liberalism.

(3) As regards what Cowan calls the stereotyped view of the "white liberal." I nowhere in my letter referred to the notion of "white liberal." I spoke of a particular variant of liberalism whose features I suggested by reference to Baldwin's query of Robert Kennedy's observation on a 40-year time schedule for a Negro President of the U.S. It so happens thatt many Indian Americans, Chinese Americans, and Negro Americans share this variant of liberalism and I had no intention of reserving it for White Americans.

More specifically, some of the most influential elements among Negro American leadership cling to this variant of liberalism. The fact that its exponents are inter-racial, however, does not make it any more valid in the context of today's world.

Furthermore, if I should have referred to a view of the "white liberal," it would be that some White Americans seem to claim a monopoly of the definition of liberalism as applied to the Negro's situation. To an increasing number of young Negroes, this calm is no longer acceptable. Their rejection of it, however, does not necessarily imply a black racist position. But that it should appear to do so--and in some instances may in fact become racist--is, I think, an inevitable part of the confusion and difficulties that we must expect to accompany greater efforts by Negroes to alter their situation. The socio-political change that these efforts involve is not, after all, the same thing as a discussion of current problems at a Sunday tea party for interracial students.

(4) Finally, I agree with Cowan that the debate over artistic achievement and commitment is "an old one." But I reject the way he poses the problems, and therefore his resolution of it.

For the great artists, the problem is not one of serving, in Cowan's words, "with equal effectiveness as an artist and propagandist." Rather, it is one of seeking points of contact, empathy, and pedestrian, and thereby transform at the man situation--be it religious, social, political, or whatever--that permit the artist to transcend the mundane and depestrian, and thereby transform at the level of artistic expression the very human situation that concerns him. In creating this transformation, the artist can do no other than to propagate, project or proclaim something. What else can he do? And if he is a truly great artist, this something will be of fundamental value and meaning to all peoples, at all times, and in all places. Baldwin is such an artist and we owe him far more than Cowan is willing to grant

Mr. Cowan replies: This debate has gotten quite far away from my original article. There, I tried to summarize Baldwin's New Yorker essay, to point out that his white readers, because of the way their lives are organized, would have great difficulty in understanding or accepting the terms of his argument; and finally to point out that Baldwin's effort to state an extremely important case time and time again might ultimately conflict with his efforts to treat other, related subjects both in essays and in his novels.

I certainly did not mean to criticize Baldwin for rocking the boat, or to deny that we owe him a great deal. If Mr. Kilson misunderstood me I can only apologize, and question whether it was my words or his presuppositions that occasioned the misunderstanding.  Martin Kilson  Lecturer in Government

There are four points in Cowan's letter that I would like to comment upon.

(1) Cowan is correct in saying that he and I view Baldwin's terms for defining Negro's situation as a threat to White Americans, but this seems as far as agreement goes between us on this matter. As regards the nature and meaning of the threat of Baldwin's arguments. I think we differ somewhat.

To me the threat is fundamentally a positive one. It seeks to shock the White American from his insulated world of false satisfaction about what little has been done to alter-basically the Negro's human situation. It seeks also to shock him from his irresponsible stance of taking for granted the Negro's plight, and from his belief nothing really earthshaking will occur among Negroes if their reality is not transformed in the near future. In short, Baldwin's aggressive--yet humane and sensitive--definition of the Negro's relationship to American society endeavors to bring White American to a proper comprehension of the Negro's dreadful reality, and to illuminate for them the distance to be travelled and the barriers to be surmounted for a resolution of this reality.

Cowan, on the other hand, takes what is essentially a negative view of the threat Baldwin poses. He appears to see it as tending to rock the boat a little too much--but Cowan seems to have little inkling that in urban Negro America the boat is actually sinking or was never built.

(2) Nowhere in my letter did I imply, as Cowan says, that "neither [Cowan] nor any white man can come to grips with the situation Baldwin portrays." I stated in my letter that White Americans can, should, and must come to grips with Baldwin's portrayal. But they cannot expect to grasp the true meaning and depth of the Negro's situation without experiencing confusion, threats, and perhaps much worse. To think otherwise is, I believe, to deny Baldwin's characterization of the Negro's reality and to seek shelter under a retarded variant of liberalism.

(3) As regards what Cowan calls the stereotyped view of the "white liberal." I nowhere in my letter referred to the notion of "white liberal." I spoke of a particular variant of liberalism whose features I suggested by reference to Baldwin's query of Robert Kennedy's observation on a 40-year time schedule for a Negro President of the U.S. It so happens thatt many Indian Americans, Chinese Americans, and Negro Americans share this variant of liberalism and I had no intention of reserving it for White Americans.

More specifically, some of the most influential elements among Negro American leadership cling to this variant of liberalism. The fact that its exponents are inter-racial, however, does not make it any more valid in the context of today's world.

Furthermore, if I should have referred to a view of the "white liberal," it would be that some White Americans seem to claim a monopoly of the definition of liberalism as applied to the Negro's situation. To an increasing number of young Negroes, this calm is no longer acceptable. Their rejection of it, however, does not necessarily imply a black racist position. But that it should appear to do so--and in some instances may in fact become racist--is, I think, an inevitable part of the confusion and difficulties that we must expect to accompany greater efforts by Negroes to alter their situation. The socio-political change that these efforts involve is not, after all, the same thing as a discussion of current problems at a Sunday tea party for interracial students.

(4) Finally, I agree with Cowan that the debate over artistic achievement and commitment is "an old one." But I reject the way he poses the problems, and therefore his resolution of it.

For the great artists, the problem is not one of serving, in Cowan's words, "with equal effectiveness as an artist and propagandist." Rather, it is one of seeking points of contact, empathy, and pedestrian, and thereby transform at the man situation--be it religious, social, political, or whatever--that permit the artist to transcend the mundane and depestrian, and thereby transform at the level of artistic expression the very human situation that concerns him. In creating this transformation, the artist can do no other than to propagate, project or proclaim something. What else can he do? And if he is a truly great artist, this something will be of fundamental value and meaning to all peoples, at all times, and in all places. Baldwin is such an artist and we owe him far more than Cowan is willing to grant

Mr. Cowan replies: This debate has gotten quite far away from my original article. There, I tried to summarize Baldwin's New Yorker essay, to point out that his white readers, because of the way their lives are organized, would have great difficulty in understanding or accepting the terms of his argument; and finally to point out that Baldwin's effort to state an extremely important case time and time again might ultimately conflict with his efforts to treat other, related subjects both in essays and in his novels.

I certainly did not mean to criticize Baldwin for rocking the boat, or to deny that we owe him a great deal. If Mr. Kilson misunderstood me I can only apologize, and question whether it was my words or his presuppositions that occasioned the misunderstanding.  Martin Kilson  Lecturer in Government

To me the threat is fundamentally a positive one. It seeks to shock the White American from his insulated world of false satisfaction about what little has been done to alter-basically the Negro's human situation. It seeks also to shock him from his irresponsible stance of taking for granted the Negro's plight, and from his belief nothing really earthshaking will occur among Negroes if their reality is not transformed in the near future. In short, Baldwin's aggressive--yet humane and sensitive--definition of the Negro's relationship to American society endeavors to bring White American to a proper comprehension of the Negro's dreadful reality, and to illuminate for them the distance to be travelled and the barriers to be surmounted for a resolution of this reality.

Cowan, on the other hand, takes what is essentially a negative view of the threat Baldwin poses. He appears to see it as tending to rock the boat a little too much--but Cowan seems to have little inkling that in urban Negro America the boat is actually sinking or was never built.

(2) Nowhere in my letter did I imply, as Cowan says, that "neither [Cowan] nor any white man can come to grips with the situation Baldwin portrays." I stated in my letter that White Americans can, should, and must come to grips with Baldwin's portrayal. But they cannot expect to grasp the true meaning and depth of the Negro's situation without experiencing confusion, threats, and perhaps much worse. To think otherwise is, I believe, to deny Baldwin's characterization of the Negro's reality and to seek shelter under a retarded variant of liberalism.

(3) As regards what Cowan calls the stereotyped view of the "white liberal." I nowhere in my letter referred to the notion of "white liberal." I spoke of a particular variant of liberalism whose features I suggested by reference to Baldwin's query of Robert Kennedy's observation on a 40-year time schedule for a Negro President of the U.S. It so happens thatt many Indian Americans, Chinese Americans, and Negro Americans share this variant of liberalism and I had no intention of reserving it for White Americans.

More specifically, some of the most influential elements among Negro American leadership cling to this variant of liberalism. The fact that its exponents are inter-racial, however, does not make it any more valid in the context of today's world.

Furthermore, if I should have referred to a view of the "white liberal," it would be that some White Americans seem to claim a monopoly of the definition of liberalism as applied to the Negro's situation. To an increasing number of young Negroes, this calm is no longer acceptable. Their rejection of it, however, does not necessarily imply a black racist position. But that it should appear to do so--and in some instances may in fact become racist--is, I think, an inevitable part of the confusion and difficulties that we must expect to accompany greater efforts by Negroes to alter their situation. The socio-political change that these efforts involve is not, after all, the same thing as a discussion of current problems at a Sunday tea party for interracial students.

(4) Finally, I agree with Cowan that the debate over artistic achievement and commitment is "an old one." But I reject the way he poses the problems, and therefore his resolution of it.

For the great artists, the problem is not one of serving, in Cowan's words, "with equal effectiveness as an artist and propagandist." Rather, it is one of seeking points of contact, empathy, and pedestrian, and thereby transform at the man situation--be it religious, social, political, or whatever--that permit the artist to transcend the mundane and depestrian, and thereby transform at the level of artistic expression the very human situation that concerns him. In creating this transformation, the artist can do no other than to propagate, project or proclaim something. What else can he do? And if he is a truly great artist, this something will be of fundamental value and meaning to all peoples, at all times, and in all places. Baldwin is such an artist and we owe him far more than Cowan is willing to grant

Mr. Cowan replies: This debate has gotten quite far away from my original article. There, I tried to summarize Baldwin's New Yorker essay, to point out that his white readers, because of the way their lives are organized, would have great difficulty in understanding or accepting the terms of his argument; and finally to point out that Baldwin's effort to state an extremely important case time and time again might ultimately conflict with his efforts to treat other, related subjects both in essays and in his novels.

I certainly did not mean to criticize Baldwin for rocking the boat, or to deny that we owe him a great deal. If Mr. Kilson misunderstood me I can only apologize, and question whether it was my words or his presuppositions that occasioned the misunderstanding.  Martin Kilson  Lecturer in Government