I notice that this poem seems to shift on what sort of "sin" it focuses on. The beginning of the poem is very much about drugs, and the resulting bender from taking them. Meanwhile, this section and the stanzas behind it are highly sexual in nature, seeming to portray such pursuits in a sublime, even divine light. Perhaps promising to themselves to do it all again the next day.

However...they don't. The poem moves on to its next fixation instead.

I'm getting the image of a bender that's wearing down over time before coming back in full force. Albeit as the drugs wear off, it seems that these former "best minds" are reduced to wandering through the streets, becoming slowly more aware of their needs.

Perhaps jazz, because that's where other people such as them might be? Perhaps sex, because it's intimate company on this lonesome night?

Or food? Because they realize they don't have even that.

This line reminds me a lot of drug addiction--but that makes me think, how big of an issue was this in older times? Did drug addiction sweep through poor communities just as it does today?

This is not only sacred imagery, but also invoking Jesus Christ at his crucifixion. And THAT invokes the image of self-sacrifice for the sake of others.

Many black men and women have had their lives taken away before things changed for them. They were martyrs, whether or not they were willing. Thus, one should picture not just one Jesus Christ to be crucified--but a whole procession of them. Again and again.

One must ask: how many did it take? And honestly I truly don't think I want to know the answer to that.

What makes this poem difficult to reconcile with is the fact that it's titled "Black Woman". Implying that this sort of emotional and physical anguish is not only horrific to behold; it's normal.

This all reminds me of blues music. I can't remember the exact quote, but it's the way blues is described:

To loosely paraphrase, "The tune sounds like it's laughing, but the lyrics are crying." And here, it's quite apt for existing in the face of constant racial struggles.

A callback to World War I or the Civil War? It could work either way--both entail a distinct disconnect with African ancestry, to the point where a spear looks like a bayonet, and not the other way around.

This could be seen as a sort of internal admission of feeling misplaced. That is to say, not only this man--but arguably any other black person may deep down feel as if they don't belong in a land of white people, never mind trying to emulate them.

I've heard of a term used to describe this sort of behavior: "Boomerang Bigotry". That is, looking down upon a group of people--while also being part of that demographic themselves.

I'm unsure if that was the narrator's intent here, but their tone seems to have a somewhat mocking tone, towards Africa and other black people--while implying that they may be a black person themselves.

Perhaps this reflects upon society's encouragement of this behavior in that era.

The image of something passionate and seductive--"red mouth"--contrasted by something as tender and fragile as a soft flower. One of the few "soft" images in the midst of many impassioned cries

It reminds me of how when some people are about to die a traumatic or violent death, their last moments are spent crying for their mother.

I do not know if the narrator is necessarily a mother--but it all the same speaks of seeing people call for her compassion, only for her to be unable to give it.

Interesting to refer to her task of sewing as "useless". Perhaps it is because of the inherently destructible--the expendable nature of her craft. Creating only to see their work destroyed and wasted is enough to dishearten any creative hand.

This reminds me very much of "Ma Rainey" by Sterling Brown. This is an occasion of both merrymaking AND a release of sadness, in the tune of a blues performance.

The tune is laughing, but the lyrics are crying, as I remember the saying goes.

After reading other people's annotations, which give ginger jars context...I think overall the ginger jar is a fitting analogy for how White America regarded slaves back then--as goods to be traded, but not respected. Perhaps simply left on the proverbial shelf to gather dust and die forgotten and used up.

Also...spices contained in ginger jars have their own scent. So perhaps, the narrator urges the lid of the jar to be opened, to let out their fragrance. Even if someone closes it, this proverbial fragrance won't entirely disappear.

Looking this word up, "dearth" means a lack of something. So perhaps what the narrator means by this is taking no part in an attempt at erasure of culture--or, in other words, an attempt to whitewash themselves to fit white culture.

Not only is this a cry out against slavery. But also a very direct accusation of derogating the very principles that Christianity teaches, by having slavery in the first place.

They force it on others. But they won't practice what they preach.

Perhaps a way of saying that despite Ma Rainey's fame, she ultimately came back to her roots--with the downtrodden black folks who aren't so fortunate. Perhaps the fact that she hasn't abandoned them is what attracts them to her.

Does she speak of various black folks coming to see her performance, including slaves? (If this takes place when slavery was still established)

It's very interesting to me that the dialect here seems to suggest who comes to see Ma Rainey.

If I remember correctly, music was a common way for black folks to retain their culture--especially those who have been taken out of Africa. Even if not strictly African, the purpose of it still remains true.

Perhaps it's all they CAN safely retain, knowing how much other parts of their culture have been stamped out by this point in time.

As they see him laugh, perhaps "they" would believe him to be just fine with the subservient way in which they regard him. I believe people of this era might have commonly believed that "Happiness in Slavery" was a common attitude among black people.

Although this establishes well enough that he does NOT hold himself so far beneath his superiors. He too is America--and he knows full well that some time or another they'll have that reality forced onto them.

I'm reminded of the fact that humans are confirmed to have biologically originated from Africa, before they radiated out to the rest of the world.

I am uncertain if Langston Hughes had any idea of this at the time. But it causes this statement to ring extraordinarily true--despite Europe's various attempts to deny their African roots, instead attempting to claim that Asia was the place of human origin.

That is to say, looking towards the past instead of the future? Something that perhaps both black and white people have done--black people looking back at injustices from the past while ignoring the today. And white people, looking back at an age of definite superiority, when their supremacy it was less questioned than it is now.

The author seems to be implying that these stereotypes are dying--or if not implying, perhaps hoping that they are dying. Although history has shown us that racial prejudice and stereotypes take a very long time to die out--especially one as stubbornly set in its ways as America.

Interesting; it would seem that even as far back as the 1920s young people were still making themselves aware of racial issues, as many youths today have also done. Or is it that this attitude was always there, and is just beginning to be acknowledged?

This is true--and continues to be true. Even people in the modern day often don't like to talk about racial issues. More specifically, they don't like to hear these grievances from black people. But what makes this passage poignant is specifying that black people didn't like it--perhaps because it pointed to a harsh reality that they wanted to deny, knowing that doing something about it was simply not possible.

In a sense, perhaps the most free types of people are the ones at the very bottom of the social rung, simply by the virtue that no one really cares about them.

Middle-class, on the other hand, is difficult to maintain. It requires one to dissociate themselves from the bottom dregs of society, while attempting to live up to the standards of those on top while not being recognized as equals.

Destroying black culture by making young people want to disassociate themselves from it--this sort of manipulation back in those days goes without saying. Although perhaps this sort of train of thought isn't as extinct as we'd like it to be. Especially through modern day colorism.

A moment of indecision--when two things look similar, in benefits, as traveling one way will cause him to miss the good things found on the other.

On one hand is a path full of mystery, where he cannot see what is ahead of him, and the other is a very scenic and lush route, where obviously no one had been yet.

It could be argued that no matter what he chose, he would still wistfully regret the experience he had foregone at this moment, as many of us do in our daily lives.

When read literally, we can view this as a scene of environmentally caused destruction. Of a moment when the frozen ground experienced an upheaval, and caused stones to spill over. Destruction that had torn down a wall that was built. However, this is told in a manner that makes the aftermath seem rather beautiful.

Especially because this destruction also does not love the wall that the narrator disdainfully refers to in this poem.

This poem in particular seems to open up with a feeling of subtle daring. I.e. via being somewhere he's normally not supposed to be in. He knows whose woods these are--but he's not here to watch over the woods. So, what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

Here, he refers to himself in the first person, yet posthumously. The author himself may not be actually dead, but the point of it is to build the foundation of the poem on a sense of profound disappointment in society. As if to say these people WOULD be the type of folks who would stamp out his legacy of knowledge so thoughtlessly.

Earlier in the poem, he had been told to "drink to the bird". I.e., of the bird that flies away when Winter comes. I.e. when their normal home's resources are no more, and it's time to move on.

One can read this as a sort of final introspection and time of respite to enjoy his own company before he too says his goodbyes. Perhaps not to his own life, but to something precious, nonetheless.

Overall, this poem seems to be one that emphasizes age and reminiscing of times and beauty of the past. Albeit as the last stanzas of this poem suggest, perhaps the narrator means to say: things just get old. Whether it be people or a form of literature practiced again and again, it would seem that things are simply destined to lose their beauty with age.

I've heard at some point that the cause of her madness may be arsenic poisoning. This makes sense considering how many things arsenic was used for, but this makes John's ignorance of her condition all the more egregious.

Perhaps I am taking this a little too personally. But considering that the other people in my household have medical knowledge, I can't shake the feeling that John of all people should recognize his wife being poisoned--if not mentally, than physically.

This reeks of gaslighting. This story was quite painful to read, because for the most part, it's simply common knowledge that it's better to talk about problems than to bottle them up.

It seems as if John is set on speaking for her--on acting as though he knows what she needs more than she does.

It is quite firmly established that this story took place in a time when men were, inarguably, superior to women. For the most part, this was just common knowledge back in the day.

However, the husband is firmly established to be a practical, even scientific man, because that would imply that he is even more firm in his biases, due to the presence of "evidence".

He claims to have no patience with faith--yet he is stubbornly faithful to his own thinking.

Perhaps the "meaning of progress" is relevant to one of Adams' other quotes: "...in America neither Venus nor Virgin ever had value as force--at most as sentiment."

This is to suggest that in these times, the average black person was not recognized for the value of their individuality. Hence, why they would seek to withhold something as essential to individuality as the right to vote. Perhaps because they instead represented the idea of the supremacy of the white man, or other values that allow them to hold themselves above black people.

The "careful adjustment of education" is taking this notion into account--that the white man was not ready to relinquish the black man as a symbol.

This passage is almost painfully ironic. Adams had described in his own work, "...his historical neck broken by the irruption of forces totally new". I.e. the idea of society being upended by a new revelation, and being very slow to accept that as the new truth. Especially the people teaching what they thought to be the truth, only to find out they'd been wrong the whole time.

From what we already know about history, this is doubly likely to occur to a person of color who attempts to display knowledge to people who would only acknowledge it begrudgingly, if at all.

For me, this connects back to "The Dynamo In the Virgin" in the sense of having a motif based on learning--albeit not always from entirely reliable sources. He states after this that he would not "bleach his Negro Soul in a flood of white Americanism", albeit it could be argued that he's doing it unconsciously. There ARE valuable lessons that America can teach, but ultimately, it is entirely subject to the whims of the teachers, through all of their biases.

Back in 1903 when this poem was written, "better and truer" and "whiter" were not yet mutually exclusive.

I.e. new discoveries that completely turned our understanding of the world on its head, forcing people of that time period to admit they were wrong, and that they must completely relearn everything they thought to be correct. Understandably, this is an extremely difficult thing to accept, especially when you realize you've spent your life teaching misinformation.

Langley seems unable to help Adams understand the dynamo because he doesn't know much about it either. HE didn't make them, so how can he know about it? It almost reminds me of a child who asks his parents a question, only to be disillusioned upon discovering they don't know how to answer their question either. It makes figuring out the answer that much harder.

An exercise in miseducation, where Adams keeps on learning, yet is somehow completely unable to actually apply his learning. This seems almost painfully relevant to the state of education today.

It seems quite likely that the narrator in question is a working-class black person. What makes this conclusion is the wording "white sins forgiven" which the lion perhaps feeds upon. Perhaps, this is to speak of industrial workers who appeal to "whiteness" to get ahead in life, with those above them benefiting off of the "sins" they commit.

This calls back imagery of the "lion". Or in other words, the force of industrialization that demands so much to be sacrificed to it in return for progress and modernization. The hung belly indicates a very well-fed lion--perhaps a little too well fed, considering the corporate-ruled society that we now live in.

As others have said, this passage invokes highly industrial imagery. Especially tools of construction--yet they are worded in a way that causes them to sound like a chaotic and destructive force, highlighting the heavy price that needs to be paid to "feed the lion".