Printer Friendly

A tribute to Amiri Baraka (aka LeRoi Jones).

IN THE MID-1990s I taught Blues People by Amiri Baraka repeatedly in two courses. Both courses attempted to think about the ways in which black cultures in the Americas were constituted by forms of resistance to slave and post-slave cultures. Both courses sought to demonstrate that when you enter the zone of the Americas you enter into the ongoing relations of freedom for some and unfreedom for others. But importantly, both courses demonstrated the creatively insubordinate ways in which black cultures in the Americas continually undermined and created new ways to experience lives others attempted to deny them. Black musics are one among many of the ways in which slave and post-slave cultures redefine what freedom might be, thus Blues People is one of its potent examples. My only relationship then to Amiri Baraka has been textual. But as such, the textual relation is meaningful in ways that one does not always expect when opening the pages of a book. Because the ideas in books can be self-fashioning, one can have an intimate relationship with a given writer without ever meeting him or her. Indeed Baraka looms large for me and black Canada in such ways.

I brought my first Baraka (originally called LeRoi Jones) book, Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note, at a used bookstore that existed slightly south of Dupont Street on Bathurst Street (Toronto) next door to a black barbershop, sometime in the mid-1980s. I had heard of Baraka, but did not remember if I had heard of LeRoi Jones. The thing is this: as a baby of Black Power, Baraka loomed large as the intellectual guide for a radical black aesthetics. I think I was too young to fully understand the transition from Jones to Baraka and might have missed the story of the transition in my Saturday classes at the Yoruba Center in Barbados in the 1970s. However, by my early 20s Baraka, or rather Jones, the Beat poet was fascinating to me, as I tried to perform a kind of black art intellectual sensibility that was outside of my understanding of what I thought was a then too "normal" and unhip blackness in 1980s Toronto. The Beats of the 50s seemed cooler than the Afrocentrics of the 80s. So Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note and all of the history surrounding it became a kind of cool for me. It is crucial that I (re)found LeRoi/ Amiri on Bathurst Street, a kind of spiritual street for black folks in Toronto, if not Canada, from the 1950s on. I found Baraka running from Third World Bookstore where his post-60s books took pride of place on the shelves.

Amiri Baraka shows up in black Canadian politics in the late 1960s and continuously after as a figure representing a black global consciousness concerned with producing freedom. In David Austin's Fear of a Black Nation, he states that Jones/ Baraka did not make it to the 1968 conference in Montreal sending regrets instead, but his name was still on the program. Indeed, figures like Austin Clarke recall how important Baraka was both in terms of his art and in terms of his intellectual leadership for a black Canadian politics of the time that identified heavily with African American freedom movements. Interestingly, Baraka might have influenced Clarke into briefly taking on a Muslim name when the former was working out his own relationship to freedom movements in the US and Canada.

However, it is to the Black Arts Movement for which Baraka is so fundamentally important that the richness of his artist-intellectual life continues to inform our present. Indeed, the BAM is the central frame through which I come to understand my own sense of blackness and it informs my teaching and scholarship in innumerable ways that are impossible to pinpoint with any clarity. In fact, it is fairly easy to suggest that for most post-60s black writing, art and intellectual engagements that take seriously a notion of the unique qualities of black creative possibilities that Baraka is an immense influence. The way in which the ideas of the BAM became diffused across borders of all kinds has been its richest contribution and one of its most potent elements. You don't then have to read Baraka to be influenced by him. So many black artists and intellectuals are working out of the ideas that he offered, nurtured and embodied in the late 60s and 70s and yet don't know it or him. That is the power of that moment and the politics and art it continues to produce. Baraka lived so we could.

I sat down to write this commemoration of Baraka's life in the aftermath of Stuart Hall's death. Indeed, I write through Hall of Baraka making sense of a world through the analyses that they generously offered us to live with. Hall's work on cultural identification, expression and political community allows me an access with which to think about the way Baraka's ideas helped to produce transnational black communities as actual entities of self-fashioning and political communities informing each other with their differences. For example, if Blues People offers us the specifics of the US slave and post-slave communities in musical form, it also helps us to understand how other black musical cultures come into being and how those musical cultures traveled, forming new communities of shared histories and desires for freedom (i.e. calypso, reggae). But most crucially Baraka and Hall help us to glimpse the ways in which similar conditions of black enslavement produce similar, yet different forms of black life. Through Baraka and Hall we come to see how black people's creative, expressive and intellectual cultures work to revise and potentially remake the forms of unfreedom that are first practiced on black bodies but can never preempt those bodies from participating in the revision of all of human life. Baraka and Hall were and are significant figures of the necessary revisions of human life lived already and headed into the future.
COPYRIGHT 2014 Canadian Dimension Publication, Ltd.
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2014 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Title Annotation:All That's Left
Author:Walcott, Rinaldo
Publication:Canadian Dimension
Article Type:In memoriam
Geographic Code:1USA
Date:Sep 1, 2014
Previous Article:J.B. Salsberg: labour organizer, political activist, Communist and Jew.
Next Article:Blocking Public Participation: The Use of Strategic Litigation to Silence Political Expression.

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2018 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters