"Begin Again: James Baldwin's America and its Urgent Lessons for Our Own," by Eddie Glaude Jr.

Just under the wire, I have finished my last book of 2020: "Begin Again: James Baldwin's America and its Urgent Lessons for Our Own," by Eddie Glaude Jr. One of the central themes is one I have long felt -- that the triumphalist narrative of American history is a lie, that we fail to truly grapple with the sins of the real history in favor of a myth that comforts us even as it works to cement the results of those sins in place.

This is a passage I have highlighted in my own copy of Baldwin's "The Fire Next Time," and Glaude excerpts it in this book:

"To accept one's past--one's history--is not the same as drowning in it; it is learning how to use it. An invented past can never be used; it cracks and crumbles under the pressures of life like clay in a season of drought. How can the American Negro's past be used? The unprecedented price demanded--and at this embattled hour of the world's history--is the transcendence of the realities of color, of nations, and of altars.

Glaude echoes that notion in his reflections on Baldwin.

"We have to rid ourselves, once and for all, of this belief that white people matter more than others," he writes, "or we're doomed to repeat the cycles of our ugly history over and over again." He calls for "a world and a society that reflect the value that all human life, no matter the color of your skin, your zip code, your gender, or who you love, is sacred."

But, he also says, as an aside: "My understanding of history suggests that we will probably fail trying."

That, unfortunately, is also my understanding of history. We humans are fallen creatures, prone to drawing lines that pit us -- however we define "us" in any given moment -- against "them." It seems inherent to us as a species.

And yet: We need people like Baldwin, like Glaude, to continue to insist that we reach for that impossible world, the "New Jerusalem" as Baldwin calls it, and a new American founding as Glaude calls it. It is only by striving to rise above that that we ever do any rising -- even if we fall short of the heights we're aiming for.

Update: Coincidentally, after posting this, I ended up listening to this podcast on my walk ... featuring Glaude speaking about the book. It's a good overview, if you don't want to read the entire (short) work. It opens with a Baldwin quote I'd forgotten: “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” That says what I was getting at, but better of course.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why John Brascia is the secret hero of Bing Crosby's "White Christmas."

So I hate my fucking colostomy

Mr. Mom Chronicles: Working At Home