They taught you the religion they disgraced.
I just LOVE the irony this statement has. How whites forced Christianity, which by all means is not a bad religion, on black slaves because their religions was apparently inferior, terrible, evil, etc; while also completely ignoring and bastardizing Christianity by ignoring teachings of peace and nonviolence.
“She jes’ catch hold of us, somekindaway.
Showing that that there will always be people who cherish, accept, and support the work their people do to entertain them.
When Ma Rainey Comes to town, Folks from anyplace Miles aroun’, From Cape Girardeau, Poplar Bluff, Flocks in to hear Ma do her stuff;
I like to think that it's not just embracing improper speech, but the desire to spread their culture and reconnect with other migrators.
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.
This description seems so defined that it cannot be argued. Locke seems so certain of this history which doesn't seem to improve the image of "Negro" history.
because the Old Negro had long become more of a myth than a man
Ugh, listening to this sounds like what white school teachers in the 1800s would be telling there children about Black people. It reminds me of the scene in Django Unchained where DiCaprio's Calvin Candy justified slavery through the debunked science of phrenology.
Or does it explode?
I can't tell if this is an even more pessimistic ideal regarding the dreams of African Americans which are being pushed aside and ignored, or like a big "Fuck you" to whites. Like rather than just sit there, looking sorry for itself, it blows up and does something exciting. Or maybe that's still some kind of gross imagery.
I, too, am America.
A powerful statement that shows us the truth about any and all who decide to reside here and make it there home.
older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
I agree with the idea that the river shares the aspect of movement with railroads and trains, and I think that this line makes note of the concept of migration. An acknowledgment that migration is an aspect of our entire history of the human race.
cause the smug Negro middle class to turn from their white, respectable, ordinary books and papers to catch a glimmer of their own beauty. We younger Negro artists who create now intend to express our individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame.
Regardless of how I think Hughes misinterpreted the young poet's desire to be, "... a poet-not a negro poet," I do agree that you should take the opportunity to be one with and accept your culture, and revel in the greatness that it has to offer.
Father is often dark but he has usually married the lightest woman he could find.
Hmm, I guess to ensure his children have the lightest skin amongst other black Americans.
“I want to be a poet–not a Negro poet,” meaning, I believe, “I want to write like a white poet”; meaning subconsciously, “I would like to be a white poet”; meaning behind that, “I would like to be white.”
I remember watching a video where Judge Judy, yes Judge Judy, said to an interviewer that she did not consider herself a "woman" lawyer or a "woman" judge, but as a lawyer/judge who happened to be a woman. I think Hughes took what the young poet said wrong, who instead wanted to be identified as a poet, not a black poet. Not to be labeled by his race but his work.
twenty for cent
When you know you can't haggle. "Let's say to the price of, one copper piece!"
place nuts
I literally can't make heads or tails out of this sentence. It doesn't bother me, I honestly think it sounds hilarious.
Wives of great men rest tranquil.
Sounds like when a kid tries to sound smart by using complex and big words but ends up complicating the entire sentence.
Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold
I agree that the structure overall is less "serious poetry" and more "note left to inform someone." If anything it helps me appreciate the simplicities of poetry.
you were probably saving
Even though there isn't a specific person who was saving the plums, I simply enjoy the thought of Williams writing this as a way of annoying someone. Just sounds funny to me.
This is just to say
I just think it's great that Williams uses the entirety of the poem, both the title and the poem itself, to basically rub in the fact that he ate the plums someone was saving. Of course, I'm just saying.
It is better to present one Image in a lifetime than to produce voluminous works.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
difficult to get along among the working people. He was not used to their ways, and they certainly were not used to his. They were suspicious. He had no antecedents. He could talk of no previous jobs. His hands were soft. His extraordinary politeness was ominous.
I'm pretty surprised that this hasn't been commented on considering it's a pretty big example of irony. I'm referring to Freddie Drummond, author of the successful book "The Unskilled Laborer," who has difficulty getting along with the working people, despite writing a book where the working is the main subject. It even describes how Drummond is, by all means, not a laborer due to his lack of any proper job experience and how well conditioned his hands are.
He made a practice of living in both worlds, and in both worlds he lived signally well.
Well there's your doubling, just like with Du Bois. Nuff' said.
divided midway by the Slot.
Everyone and their entire family will make a connection between the "Slot" to the veil presented by W.E.B. Du Bois. At first, because it appeared more as a physical trait, I connected the "Slot" to the wall presented by Robert Frost. However, it's usage is more alined with Du Bois's veil for its use in describing, not only a physical divide between the San Francisco, but a divide between the quality of the sides as well as their overall social status.
Before his prime, even in his infancy Cut down, and all the clamour that was he, Silenced; and all the riveted pride he wore, A rusted iron column whose tall core The rains have tunnelled like an aspen tree.
He seemed to me to be a simple man, a good man. An innocent and incorruptible soul, torn down before given the chance to truly live a life.
Yet many a man is making friends with death Even as I speak, for lack of love alone.
We know that this feeling, this emotion, does nothing to further continue our lives. It aids us neither biologically, nor does it make us less susceptible to death. And yet, it's presence has been an inspiration to countless lives present and before.
Love is not all
Love has certainly never truly been a necessity in life. It does seem more like an add-on to procreation rather than a vital aspect.
He only says, “Good fences make good neighbors.”
Again, something that brings up this idea that it's best if things are kept separate and where things belong. Better to do their own thing than mingle with anyone else.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
I sometimes get the sense that everyone has a "wall" that separates themselves from everyone else. A kind of structure that shows how little we trust each other, and how willing we are to keep each other apart.
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding, To please the yelping dogs.
These lines in particular make me think of scapegoats and how innocent people have been killed just for the sake of proving an erroneous point. Just like yelping dogs, some people will cry for blood until they receive it.
And shook his head, and was again alone. There was not much that was ahead of him, And there was nothing in the town below– Where strangers would have shut the many doors That many friends had opened long ago.
After reading this I'm given the impression that whoever was speaking to Mr. Flood was merely a figment of his imagination. The lines make note that there isn't anything in the town below, and implies that these doors were open long ago. Perhaps this is Mr. Flood's return to his home, where he plans to live the rest of his life until his death.
Then, as a mother lays her sleeping child Down tenderly, fearing it may awake, He sat the jug down slowly
Hmm, I certainly do think that the jug shows obvious importance to Mr. Flood, and would want to prevent any harm to come of it. However, another part of me thinks of this as a reflection of Mr. Flood's age, and with such little time left, he wants to sustain it as long as he possibly can.
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.
What's brilliant about these lines is how well it sums up the meaning behind these core concepts that govern our lives. What is Good? What is Evil? What is Right? What is Wrong? The only reason why we, as humans, understand these terms is because society agreed as a whole the meaning. We all agreed that the sound "Good" is associated with being morally right or righteousness because we unanimously agreed to interpret it in this specific manner. But surrounding these clear and self-evident concepts is a thick border of grey which brings about different interpretations and opinions. A person has just been killed, but perhaps the person was the next "greatest" dictator, a patient suffering untold pain who must be relieved, or the carrier of a deadly disease who must be killed to sustain the rest of the population. True to this line, no one can truly know these concepts.
WHEN I died
The one thing that comes to mind when I read this line is the opening monologue Kevin Spacey gives in American Beauty. In it, he himself reveals that his death is imminent, but also insinuates that his mundane life makes him already dead. I immediately took the "WHEN I died" line as either a foreshadowing of the narrator's own death or that something so horrible in the his life made him feel already dead.
voice of the sea
It makes sense to use the sea as a method of visualizing the many emotions that humans possess. However, sadness isn't an emotion that comes to mind when I think of the ocean. I understand why Du Bois would feel sadness, I just wouldn't know what state the ocean would be in to have a somber feeling.
For Adams’s objects its value lay chiefly in its occult mechanism.
I found this line fairly funny for the use of the word occult, as if the dynamo was a magical device. Which I can understand that sentiment considering how revolutionary the dynamo was for it's time as well as my own failure to understand how new technologies are made. This is more my own bias, but in general I'm surprised that nearly every new invention isn't viewed by the general public as magic or witchcraft. Well, I guess less so now because of just how far we've progressed.
The planet itself seemed less impressive, in its old-fashioned, deliberate, annual or daily revolution, than this huge wheel, revolving within arm’s length at some vertiginous speed, and barely murmuring–scarcely humming an audible warning to stand a hair’s-breadth further for respect of power–while it would not wake the baby lying close against its frame.
This was it. This was one of humanities greatest inventions that revolutionized the entire human race. There should be no reason not to hold this machine in such high esteem as it was capable of truly bringing humans out of the "Dark Age."
Nothing in education is so astonishing as the amount of ignorance it accumulates in the form of inert facts.
I can imagine why this is a pretty popular point to annotate, considering how the line takes a stab at one of the essentials of society that is education. But regardless I can understand what he's getting at. As they say, "History is written by the victor." Which means regardless of whether or not it's true you can teach anyone anything. No matter how far it strays from the truth.
Out of the bones’ need to sharpen and the muscles’ to stretch,
Relating to both LenMoy and taskins, this may be a further continuation of the idea for one to get stronger or to improve one's self. The "Sticks and Stones" and "Whatever doesn't kill me" expression certainly comes to mind. However, the sharpening of bone and the stretching of muscle may indicate some sort of violent aspect, like a preparation for war. If war were to begin, you'd want to sharpen your weapon and train for battle.
They Lion grow.
Every time this line is repeated, while accompanied by the rest of the verses, it suggests some relation to an actual animal. But the weird grammar, the insistence on using "They" repeatedly, convinces me there's something else to it. I think the word "Lion" is used as a homophone, and may instead mean "lie in" or even "lying." I wonder if the focus isn't supposed to be on the "Lion" but on whoever "They" is.