“Thou shalt not this.” “Thou shalt not that.” “Reserved for whites only”
These lines are an interesting mixture of the Bible's "Thou shalt not. . ." and the infamous Jim Crow laws.
“Thou shalt not this.” “Thou shalt not that.” “Reserved for whites only”
These lines are an interesting mixture of the Bible's "Thou shalt not. . ." and the infamous Jim Crow laws.
They gave you the jobs that they were too good for,
This reminds me of the infamous "They're taking out jobs" excuse when in reality those who use this phrase do Not want said jobs that are being "taken."
They point with pride to the roads you built for them They ride in comfort over the rails you laid for them
This refers to the sense of pride and accomplishment Americans have felt for the progress that has resulted in this country however they refuse to acknowledge Exactly who's hard work has made such progress possible.
The intelligent Negro of today is resolved not to make discrimination an extenuation for his shortcomings in performance, individual or collective; he is trying to hold himself at par, neither inflated by sentimental allowances nor depreciated by current social discounts.
It seems Locke is claiming that "the intelligent Negro" should not use that fact that they are discriminated against to suggests why he or she has not been able to be successful.
By shedding the old chrysalis of the Negro problem we are achieving somethinglike a spiritual emancipation.
Perhaps letting go of past burdens they have held onto for so many generations?
The Negro himself has contributed his share to this through a sort of protective social mimicry forced upon him by the adverse circumstances of dependence. So for generations in the mind of America, the Negro has been more of a formula than a human being –a something to be argued about, condemned or defended, to be “kept down,” or “in his place,” or “helped up,” to be worried with or worried over, harassed or patronized, a social bogey or a social burden.
Is Locke saying that "The Negro" is partly to blame for how they are treated and why they have been dehumanized?
Or does it explode?
I feel like with all these examples the "original" dream is altered some way, whether it's been deformed or destroyed completely.
And I wish that I had died.”
There's a sense of despair and hopelessness in this line. However with the use of "had", a past tense, perhaps the man doesn't harbor that same wish to die anymore?
Besides, They’ll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed— I, too, am America.
Hughes is referring to the struggle of African Americans to be seen as "equal" to whites and ultimately be viewed as much of an American as anyone else
He is never taught to see that beauty. He is taught rather not to see it, or if he does, to be ashamed of it when it is not according to Caucasian patterns.
In this text Hughes is referring to the lack of appreciation the country has for the accomplishments of people of color IF their accomplishments do not coincide with "Caucasian patters." They are forced to conform to what's socially acceptable than stepping outside the box.
And the mother often says “Don’t be like niggers” when the children are bad. A frequent phrase from the father is, “Look how well a white man does things.” And so the word white comes to be unconsciously a symbol of all virtues. It holds for the children beauty, morality, and money.
Hughes is referring to the subconscious racial messages that generations pass one from one another. Here one can see that everything good and successful are associated with "whiteness."
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 mold of American standardization, and to be as little Negro and as much American as possible.
Hughes is referring his race as an obstacle. He feels forced to give up that part of his identity.
brown land, unheard.
References lack of life and the wet/dry theme.
Here is no water but only rock Rock and no water and the sandy road The road winding above among the mountains Which are mountains of rock without water
Typically the lack of water is associated with the lack of life.
Et O ces voix d’enfants, chantant dans la coupole!
Another example of polyglossia. Google translation " And O these children's voices, singing in the cupola!" original language was French.
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
Another reference to a zombie like state? Her brain is not able to form a complete thought, she's there but not "there" at the same time.
“What shall I do now? What shall I do?”
There's a sense of urgency here. The pressure to constantly be moving, thinking, planning it always present.
“Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?”
Another instance of the uncertainty and reference to zombies.
climate
The use of the word climate is also strange and confused me. The line "Humming is" prior to the use of "climate" didn't give me much to work off of in terms of figuring out what's going on.
Compose
I was confused with the use of the word "compose" here in regards to beds. We often think of "make the bed" but compose is usually associated with "composing" music. However now that I think of it perhaps it does make sense. One "makes" the bed and one also "composes" (makes) music. I guess they could be interchangeable?
measure
The use of the word "measure" is strange. When I first read this line I had to go through it slowly a few more times in order to try and understand it.
the profound change has come upon them: rooted they grip down and begin to awaken
This is an interesting image and I initially thought the "profound change" as a plant finally beginning to grow. However, when I reread it, it reminded me of the free spirited Flapper, breaking free from the Victorian "Angel in the house" image.
he contagious hospital under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields brown with dried weeds
This beginning struck me as a bit unusual. It's not what i picture when I think of spring. The words "contagious", "molted", "muddy" and "dried" give off a darker tone to the poem.
Pay no attention to the criticism of men who have never themselves written a notable work.

Don’t think any intelligent person is going to be deceived when you try to shirk all the difficulties of the unspeakably difficult art of good prose by chopping your composition into line lengths.

Don’t use such an expression as “dim lands of peace.” It dulls the image.

out of sheer lust of adventure— and young slatterns, bathed in filth from Monday to Saturday
These lines refer to young men who work from Monday to Saturday, specifically hard labor due to the description "bathed in filth" and "railroading" in the previous line. However what stood out to me the most was the phrase "sheer lust of adventure". I interpreted it in a more historical perspective, thinking of the first groups of "young" men traveling to the west of the U.S. before it was heavily settled.
Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
I found these lines pretty interesting. From my interpretation, I think the speaker is commenting on the ridiculousness of putting so much emphasis on love and being loved even though it is not essential for staying alive. Furthermore, man brings himself/herself closer to death due to the stress of finding love.
He only says, “Good fences make good neighbors.”
I'm not exactly sure what this is supposed to mean. However what am interpreting is that the narrator's neighbor likes boundaries and his own space.
The gaps I mean, No one has seen them made or heard them made, But at spring mending-time we find them there,
When I read this I interpreted the "gaps" as a type of separation in society. We're not usually aware of their creation and it becomes something ingrained in our society, even if for a short period before people come to their senses. For example historically speaking we had segregation, a "gap" which divided whites from African Americans.
And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
The repetition of these two lines stood out to me in this poem. I particularly interpreted "sleep" as maybe death, as strange that may sound to some people. In the previous lines it says "the woods are lovely, dark and deep. / But I have promises to keep," I think this represents a "push" for the narrator to simply keep on moving despite wanting to admire the woods. Or on a more, for a lack of a better word, extreme level, the narrator is feeling hopeless but he knows he still has more of his life to live, hence the "miles to go before i sleep" repetition.
At ninety–six I had lived enough
I was a bit confused by this line. I'm interpreting it as the narrator saying at the age of 96 she has lived enough, in the sense that she's done with the monotony of her life as a housewife.
That no one knows what is good Who knows not what is evil; And no one knows what is true Who knows not what is false.
These few lines strangely remind me of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. These lines make you take a step back because you're confused by what you just read. However when you reread it, it's not as complicated as you thought. Essentially like another person already said in their annotation, you can't know one thing without the other. Unfortunately this is where is becomes complicated once more because everyone interprets what's good, evil, true or false differently.
“Well, Mr. Flood, we have not met like this In a long time; and many a change has come To both of us, I fear, since last it was We had a drop together. Welcome home!”
Throughout the poem I couldn't help but assume that Mr. Flood is dead. Or does this "party" translate to Mr. Flood's funeral? I also thought that perhaps the narrator was visiting Mr. Flood's grave.
Then, as a mother lays her sleeping child Down tenderly, fearing it may awake, He sat the jug down slowly at his feet With trembling care, knowing that most things break; And only when assured that on firm earth It stood, as the uncertain lives of men Assuredly did not
It is odd how the narrator treats his jug with so much care. When I had read this far into the poem initially all I could conclude is that the narrator is drunk. However despite this strange action one can see that the narrator is aware of life's fragility in the same way material things can be.
He is very careful and loving, and hardly lets me stir without special direction.
Despite the use of "careful" and "loving" the word "controlling" best describes the narrator's husband. Throughout the text it seems the narrator always thinks back to her husband, what he thinks or what he's instructed her not to do.
You see he does not believe I am sick! And what can one do? If a physician of high standing, and one’s own husband, assures friends and relatives that there is really nothing the matter with one but temporary nervous depression—a slight hysterical tendency—what is one to do? My brother is also a physician, and also of high standing, and he says the same thing.
This reminds me of the stereotypical and outdated idea that women were too emotional and unfit for anything concerning logic.
Alas, with the years all this fine contempt began to fade; for the words I longed for, and all their dazzling opportunities, were theirs, not mine. But they should not keep these prizes, I said; some, all, I would wrest from them. Just how I would do it I could never decide: by reading law, by healing the sick, by telling the wonderful tales that swam in my head,—some way. With other black boys the strife was not so fiercely sunny: their youth shrunk into tasteless sycophancy, or into silent hatred of the pale world about them and mocking distrust of everything white; or wasted itself in a bitter cry, Why did God make me an outcast and a stranger in mine own house? The shades of the prison-house closed round about us all: walls strait and stubborn to the whitest, but relentlessly narrow, tall, and unscalable to sons of night who must plod darkly on in resignation, or beat unavailing palms against the stone, or steadily, half hopelessly, watch the streak of blue above.
Here Du Bois comments on the difference between him and other African American boys. For example Du Bois says he strives to be successful like his white counterparts by "reading [the] law, by healing the sick, [and] by telling the wonderful tales in [his] head." On the other hand he claims that other African American boys react more violently towards the whites while others did nothing, wondering why God made them an "outcast." One can see that Du Bois thinks about this imbalance at a far deeper level as opposed to just sitting in despair and questioning why they are treated like second rate humans compared to the whites.
He writhed and cursed at his ignorance, much as Adams did at his own, but in the opposite sense. St. Gaudens was a child of Benvenuto Cellini, smothered in an American cradle. Adams was a quintessence of Boston, devoured by curiosity to think like Benvenuto. St. Gaudens’s art was starved from birth, and Adams’s instinct was blighted from babyhood.
There is an interesting choice of words here, writhed, cursed, smothered, devoured, starved, and blighted. To me they stand out from the rest of the sentence and when I was reading the text I felt like I had to add extra emphasis to them. Additionally these words seem to "crush" others like curiosity and instinct, giving off a dark tone to this small portion of the text.
This problem in dynamics gravely perplexed an American historian. The Woman had once been supreme; in France she still seemed potent, not merely as a sentiment, but as a force. Why was she unknown in America? For evidently America was ashamed of her, and she was ashamed of herself, otherwise they would not have strewn fig-leaves so profusely all over her.
I assume this is some type of commentary on the lack of women's rights in America in the late 1800's and early 1900's while women were still fighting for the right to vote, among other things.
Adams had looked at most of the accumulations of art in the storehouses called Art Museums; yet he did not know how to look at the art exhibits of 1900. He had studied Karl Marx and his doctrines of history with profound attention, yet he could not apply them at Paris.
This specifically remind me of this sense of "mindlessness" that seems comes with education. For example you may take a class focusing on Shakespeare's sonnets, studying each one closely and get an "A" in the course. However two or three semesters later you might not be able to name the title of just one of Shakespeare's sonnets. In other words as students there has to be one time or another where we've crammed information into our brains only to "spill" it out completely on our assignment, midterm, final exam or whatever it may be, only to forget it all.
acids of rage
This specific image stood out to me the most in this poem. I think it's a powerful yet disturbing image at the same time. I think that rage crates this "acid" or in other words consequences that will harm everyone. For example globally speaking acid attacks have become more prevalent. Acid harms everyone just the same, regardless of gender, race etc.
he comes.
Initially I was a bit confused on who "he" is referring to. However now I think "he" is perhaps the aggressor or a person in power or control.