Wearing the Mask
‘Darkest America,’ by Yuval Taylor and Jake Austen
By KEVIN YOUNG
Published: November 16, 2012
Page 3 of 3
This — shall we call it laziness? — culminates in the
chapter on Zora Neale Hurston,
which begins with Richard Wright’s damning accusation that Hurston’s novel
“Their Eyes Were Watching God” used “the minstrel technique that makes the
‘white folks’ laugh.” For the authors this somehow becomes Hurston’s own
mantra, as if she herself said it. While Hurston’s plays include broad comedy
and even some recasting of minstrel bits, the other evidence the authors cite
(or don’t cite; there are no notes, just a list of sources) remains rather
thin. Parts of her profound essay “Characteristics of Negro Expression” appear
here riddled with ellipses, seeking to equate Hurston’s declared love of
“drama” with the minstrel stage.
In fact, Hurston’s essay explicitly condemns minstrelsy of all sorts: “If we are to believe the majority of writers of Negro dialect and the burnt-cork artists, Negro speech is a weird thing, full of ‘ams’ and ‘Ises.’ Fortunately we don’t have to believe them. We may go directly to the Negro and let him speak for himself.” Though they do admit she disdained white minstrels, Hurston becomes a black minstrel for the authors simply for praising black vaudeville acts like Snake Hips or Butterbeans and Susie. Yet enjoying routines and songs like the self-explanatory “I Want a Hot Dog for My Roll” requires not minstrelsy but simply an understanding of the double entendres of the blues and the longstanding black secular tradition. Or maybe just a sense of humor. At times like this the authors seem to have lost theirs, saying that Snake Hips “may not have engaged in minstrelsy, but neither was there anything dignified about his act,” as if anything not entirely stately is entirely disgraceful — even if they mean that as a compliment.
It all goes back to the alchemy of audience; despite what “Darkest America” asserts, Hurston wasn’t interested in presenting black folklore for white audiences so much as for herself. For Hurston, like Langston Hughes, “Negro folklore is not a thing of the past. It is still in the making.” It is her innovation that galled some who saw themselves as race men — and it is amazing that the authors fail to note that all the critics of hers they mention are men. (Hurston’s later champions were women writers who brought her back to prominence exactly for her dramatic, fulsome self.) Then again, this chapter turns out to be the book’s only real discussion of women.
That is, unless you count the part about Madea, the “female alter ego” of the wildly popular Tyler Perry, who once came under fire from Spike Lee for “coonery and buffoonery.” As “Darkest America” points out, Perry’s over-the-top act had for years entertained black folks in gospel musicals and on videotape, in beauty shops and at home — any controversy came only once “his tremendous success allowed the white establishment to see that black audiences enjoyed black stereotypes on their own time.”
Chalk it up to the alchemy of audience, that old black magic: I finished this book at my family’s home inLouisiana
In fact, Hurston’s essay explicitly condemns minstrelsy of all sorts: “If we are to believe the majority of writers of Negro dialect and the burnt-cork artists, Negro speech is a weird thing, full of ‘ams’ and ‘Ises.’ Fortunately we don’t have to believe them. We may go directly to the Negro and let him speak for himself.” Though they do admit she disdained white minstrels, Hurston becomes a black minstrel for the authors simply for praising black vaudeville acts like Snake Hips or Butterbeans and Susie. Yet enjoying routines and songs like the self-explanatory “I Want a Hot Dog for My Roll” requires not minstrelsy but simply an understanding of the double entendres of the blues and the longstanding black secular tradition. Or maybe just a sense of humor. At times like this the authors seem to have lost theirs, saying that Snake Hips “may not have engaged in minstrelsy, but neither was there anything dignified about his act,” as if anything not entirely stately is entirely disgraceful — even if they mean that as a compliment.
It all goes back to the alchemy of audience; despite what “Darkest America” asserts, Hurston wasn’t interested in presenting black folklore for white audiences so much as for herself. For Hurston, like Langston Hughes, “Negro folklore is not a thing of the past. It is still in the making.” It is her innovation that galled some who saw themselves as race men — and it is amazing that the authors fail to note that all the critics of hers they mention are men. (Hurston’s later champions were women writers who brought her back to prominence exactly for her dramatic, fulsome self.) Then again, this chapter turns out to be the book’s only real discussion of women.
That is, unless you count the part about Madea, the “female alter ego” of the wildly popular Tyler Perry, who once came under fire from Spike Lee for “coonery and buffoonery.” As “Darkest America” points out, Perry’s over-the-top act had for years entertained black folks in gospel musicals and on videotape, in beauty shops and at home — any controversy came only once “his tremendous success allowed the white establishment to see that black audiences enjoyed black stereotypes on their own time.”
Chalk it up to the alchemy of audience, that old black magic: I finished this book at my family’s home in
STORY BY:
KEVIN YOUNG
STORY
EDITOR
BRANDON
DE’LEONCE
MUSIC
BY:
BONONIASOUND
SHINERECORDS
ISTOCK
PHOTO
PRODUTION
MANAGER
JOHN
WESLEY
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COPYRIGHT
© 2012
E’SDROP
PUBLISHING
COUNTRY OF FIRST PUBLICATION UNITED
STATES OF AMERICA
SPECIAL THANKS TO THE FOLLOWING CONTRIBUTORS:
The Bing Corporation
Black Voices
Huffington Post
Yahoo
You Tube
Istockphoto
Bononiasound
Shinerecords
Malcolmxfiles.blogspot.com
Cornel West
Kevin Young
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