“Those who think they are white” is a phrase that bothered me. I thought it an unnecessary insult by an angry man until I learned it is a quote from James Baldwin and better understood why it was used:
And have brought humanity to the edge of Oblivion: because they think they are white.
Ta-Nehisi Coates uses it often in Between the World and Me to castigate those who will do anything to shore up the belief they are “better than” simply because they are white. I have read other books by angry black men and dislike the tone despite agreeing it is justified. I much prefer the approach of Isabel Wilkerson in Caste – she lays out her argument in precise, powerful straightforward terms. But, there are times when rage is appropriate and measured discourse just doesn’t do it. Coates’s point is that we have reached that time.
He is outraged over the lack of control that blacks have over their own bodies. Of course this was true during slavery, but he contends that it is still true today. He cites the harassment and many killings of black men by the police with the tacit approval of society who prefer what they perceive as safety to justice.
I tried to imagine what it would be like to have that fear any time I got in a car. Suppose the traffic police started to target white old ladies and give them tickets for minor or made-up issues. I would be incensed at such harassment. And then I tried to imagine what would happen if the police started pulling these white old ladies out of cars, frisking them, and regularly shooting them for resistance. I failed in picturing this. It is too preposterous to think about grandma being treated in this way and the country would be in a furor. Yet – this is exactly what happens to a portion of our society, black men.
Coates does an excellent job of portraying the black man’s fear of being killed. When he ventures into side subjects such as school failure or the limited horizons of black children, he is less successful. I wish he would have acknowledged that there are other groups who are poorly served by public schools, whose children have stunted dreams, or who do not have control over their own bodies.
The soaring cadences of the last couple of pages remind me of a black preacher rising to the hopeful end of his sermon, but Coates’s tone is ambivalent. Maybe there is hope, but “Through the windshield I saw the rain coming down in sheets.”
Having just read Lisa See’s Tea Girl of Hummingbird Lane, I found her latest, The Island of Sea Women, familiar territory.
Like Tea Girl, Sea Women starts with an exploration of the historical cultural practices and beliefs of a unique group of people, in this case, the haenyeo, or deep sea divers, of Jeju, South Korea. Only the women dive, leaving the men at home to care for small children. See has a good time with this inversion of our norm.
The harsh condition of the divers’ lives is leavened by See’s favorite topic, relationships between women: mothers and daughters, and girls who vow to be best friends forever. When World War II and its aftermath comes to their island, their hardships increase and relationships are tested.
Although full of interesting information, both about the divers and seeds of the Korean War, this book is too dark to say I really liked it. The difficulties of the characters in Tea Girl are balanced by the pleasant topic of tea; here, their difficulties are intensified by the cruelty of war.
Sometimes I’ve complained that the characters in a book are too hard to relate to – too different from me – and the author hasn’t given me a hook or bridge to enter the story.
In The Spectator Bird by Wallace Stegner, the opposite is true. The first chapter could have been describing my life these days. Joe Allston, the main character, observes the fat towhees in the yard, goes for a walk, looks through old photos, thinks about volunteering somewhere.
How does an author tell a satisfying story about old age? He must deal with the general ennui, waning abilities, chronic illness, friends dying, yet bring his characters to contentment at the end. Stegner uses the device of a postcard from an old friend. When Joe and his wife Ruth receive it, they relive the time, twenty years ago, when they rented rooms from her in Denmark. Interspersed with this emotional remembered story is the routine discontented present.
Some of the ruminations about old age go on too long and the story drags. Then, when the reader is lulled into accepting this pace, there comes a wallop. Somewhat like life. I like that the story begins with birds, and ends with this lovely image: “It is something…to have found a fellow bird with whom you can sit among the rafters while drinking and boasting…go on below; a fellow bird who you can look after and find bugs and seeds for…”
Stegner was 67 when he wrote this; it was his next to last book.
On a recent road trip to Leavenworth Washington, I visited the local bookstore and discovered a new cozy mystery author. Ellie Alexander has situated five of her mysteries in the beer brewing community of the Bavarian themed city of Leavenworth.
The Pint of No Return details the festivities of Octoberfest complete with descriptions of the beautiful Northwest in the fall. A film crew making a documentary, talented female brewer (main character), budding romance, plus much information about making and drinking beer provide a needed respite from all the serious books out there. Her three other series, The Bakeshop Mysteries, set in Ashland, Oregon, Pacific Northwest Mystery Series and Rose City Mystery Series all sound appealing to this Oregon reader.
And all the people who think they are white shouted “amen!” Then continued their comfortable lives. But as an old white woman, I really don’t know what else to do, other than treat my multi cultural neighbors like I treat my white neighbors. I have never read Ta-Nehisi Coates, but definitely found Wilkerson’s book “Caste” worthy of recommending to others.
I too was struck by Coates’ “those who think they are white,” but read it not as anger so much as a comment on the human genome.
We’re all on some sort of skin- color continuum, and you don’t have to go back more than a few thousand years to find that we’re all genetically related. In ancient Europe, not so long ago really, most humans had much darker skin than they do there today. Coates deserves to be angry, as you note, but I was struck most by his clear-eyed analysis of facts, which I think is what we have here.
I listened to TheSpectator Bird as an audiobook and found the voice of the reader added to John Allston’s personality. Not only did he ruminate about old age but he also quoted exchanges between himself and his wife. I found both voices very true to life and so, very funny to hear outside my own home!!