Notes of a Native Son

I wouldn’t be surprised if a concordance of this book would turn up “rage” as the most-used word. This collection of essays is incandescent with pride and bitterness expressed in meticulously crafted prose. The highlight is the title essay, but the most explicit statement of a way forward comes in the final essay, “Stranger in the Village”: “The black man insists, by whatever means he finds at his disposal, that the white man cease to regard him as an exotic rarity and recognize him as a human being.” That was published seventy years ago. I’d like to think we’ve made some progress since, but maybe there is no such thing as lasting progress. All the more reason to keep this eloquent book in reach.
Baldwin delves deeply show more into his being and shares what he finds unsparingly with the reader. If these essays have a flaw, it is in his assumption that in his diagnosis, he is speaking of “the” Negro and “the” white man. Perhaps he would defend himself by quoting from the final essay that nothing is more American than “to paint moral issues in glaring black and white.” show less

I have to start off by saying Notes of a Native Son was way too short. I felt that Baldwin could have kept writing and writing. His essays held such clarity and truth they could have been written last year, last month, or even last week. Ranging from an analytical commentary of Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin to remembering the time he was jailed in Paris for allegedly stealing a bedsheet, Baldwin expresses his place in society with the utmost frankness. The most tender of moments came when writing about his father, a man with which he had a complicated relationship.

When James Baldwin published this collection of essays in 1955, the civil rights movement in this country was just beginning to gain traction. The year before, the Armed Services had integrated all of its branches, but discrimination against Blacks was common and accepted practice across the U.S. In its first section, Baldwin critically addresses the role of protest novels and movies featuring Black characters, arguing that they too often reduced complex characters to caricatures, while failing to delve into political solutions. Included in his overview are such books as Uncle Tom’s Cabin and Richard Wright’s Native Son.

In its second part, he writes about life in 1940s Harlem, focusing heavily on his own family. He details the show more effects of social injustice on Black lives, not just in the poverty it engenders, but its psychological toll as well. The final section features essays written while Baldwin was living in Paris. Removed from the familiarity of home, he grapples with his identity as a Black American and the difficulties he faces in a country strange to him. In one account, he finds himself jailed in Paris, and another tells of time spent in a Swiss village where he is the first Black person its citizens have ever seen in person.

This collection marked Baldwin’s first foray into non-fiction work. An intimate portrait on the complexity of Black lives, upon publication it won him critical acclaim. Seventy years on, these essays still provide a gut punch. It is sad to think that, despite the progress made to temper discrimination in America, this candid exploration of race relations finds itself the target of book bans to this day. show less

What makes these essays on race relationships and identity (written in the 1950s!) so powerful is that they give such an insight in what’s happening in the US today. As a white European reader, they truly made me understand the BLM movement at a much deeper level. All this, while they tell the most personal stories in the most beautiful language. James Baldwin is not just one of the greatest storytellers of our literary history, he is also one of the brightest thinkers and best essay writers.

This early collection may be a little uneven, but there's absolutely no doubt what a great writer Baldwin could be when he was on top form. The combination of Dickens-and-Old-Testament influences on his prose style with his rhetorical training in the pulpit can make his writing seem rather overblown when he's dealing with trivial subject-matter — his devastating review of Carmen Jones has all the proportionality of a tactical nuclear strike on a wasps' nest, for instance — but when he's got something important to say, he is able to say it with all the confidence and authority of a George Orwell. And we believe him. The best pieces in this collection — in particular the title piece, about his father, and the piece about a brush show more with the law in Paris — are exceptionally good essays. And they are very interesting for the light they cast on Go tell it on the mountain and Giovanni's Room, respectively. show less

Notes of a Native Son, the collection of James Baldwin's essays, was first published in 1954.

They are all well-written. The ones I connected with most strongly were the first person "I" ones, as opposed to the ones where he takes a more distanced, professorial tone. It is disturbing to read about his and others' experiences with "We don't serve Negroes" and the like. I grew up beyond that particular time, but the schools in my town weren't desegregated until the mid-60s. Our struggles today with more subtle racism (e.g. in hiring and advancement to leadership, police misconduct, or even less overt hostility in restaurants) are frustrating and at times outrageous, but the America he describes is an outright nightmare. The rage he and show more others felt was justified and inevitable.

I've been the only white guy in any number of situations - wonderful, friendly, neutral, uncomfortable, dangerous - but I cannot truly and fully imagine a role reversal where I had to deal with such racism on a daily basis. His book certainly brings a lot of that home, especially in the more personal essays. show less

Where to begin? I do not feel qualified to review this book. Why did I give it four stars? The writing was excellent. Baldwin says what most people cannot articulate. As a white, middle aged, middle class woman who has grown up and lived in rural America with very little exposure to other races, this was hard to swallow. However, like bitter medicine that one takes because it will cure you, I was glad to read it.

These are essays, memoirs of a sort, which detail the Negro experience in America in the early 1900s. It is not pretty. It is not easy reading, but it is an exploration of what constant degradation does to the soul. I wept. My heart breaks, and I am anguished that in spite of the many practical changes in our society such as show more integration and equal opportunity laws, there is still the undercurrent of hatred and distrust. One can change the circumstances, and one should, but who can mend the heart? show less