Excerpts From Countee Cullen

’s Forward To Caroling Dusk Essay, Research Paper Countee Cullen It is now five years since James Weldon Johnson edited with a brilliant essay on "The Negro’s Creative Genius" The Book of American Negro

’s Forward To Caroling Dusk Essay, Research Paper

Countee Cullen

It is now five years since James Weldon Johnson edited with a

brilliant essay on "The Negro’s Creative Genius" The Book of American Negro

Poetry, four years since the publication of Robert T. Kerlin’s Negro Poets and

Their Poems, and three years since from the Trinity College Press in Durham, North

Carolina, came An Anthology of Verse by American Negroes, edited by Newman Ivey

White and Walter Clinton Jackson.

[. . . .]

[T]here would be scant reason for the assembling and publication of another such

collection were it not for the new voices that within the past three to five years have

sung so significantly as to make imperative an anthology recording some snatches of their

songs. To those intelligently familiar with what is popularly termed the renaissance in

art and literature by Negroes, it will not be taken as a sentimentally risky observation

to contend that the recent yearly contests conducted by Negro magazines, such as Opportunity

and The Crisis, as well as a growing tendency on the part of white editors to give

impartial consideration to the work of Negro writers, have awakened to a happy

articulation many young Negro poets who had thitherto lisped only in isolated places in

solitary numbers. It is primarily to give them a concerted bearing that this collection

has been published. For most of these poets the publication of individual volumes of their

poems is not an immediate issue. However, many of their poems during these four or five

years of accentuated interest in the artistic development of the race have become familiar

to a large and ever-widening circle of readers who, we feel, will welcome a volume

marshaling what would otherwise remain for some time a miscellany of deeply appreciated

but scattered verse.

The place of poetry in the cultural development of a race or people has always been one

of importance; indeed, poets are prone, with many good reasons for their conceit, to hold

their art the most important. Thus while essentially wishing to draw the public ear to the

work of the younger Negro poets, there have been included with their poems those of modern

Negro poets already established and acknowledged, by virtue of their seniority and

published books, as worthy practitioners of their art. There were Negro poets before Paul

Laurence Dunbar, but his uniquity as the first Negro to attain to and maintain a

distinguished place among American poets, a place fairly merited by the most acceptable

standards of criticism, makes him the pivotal poet of this volume.

I have called this collection an anthology of verse by Negro poets rather than an

anthology of Negro verse, since this latter designation would be more confusing than

accurate. Negro poetry, it seems to me, in the sense that we speak of Russian, French, or

Chinese poetry, must emanate from some country other than this in some language other than

our own. Moreover, the attempt to corral the outbursts of the ebony muse into some

definite mold to which all poetry by Negroes will conform seems altogether futile and

aside from the facts. This country’s Negro writers may here and there turn some singular

facet toward the literary sun, but in the main, since theirs is also the heritage of the

English language, their work will not present any serious aberration from the poetic

tendencies of their times. The conservatives, the middlers, and the arch heretics will be

found among them as among the white poets; and to say that the pulse beat of their verse

shows generally such a fever, or the symptoms of such an ague, will prove on closer

examination merely the moment’s exaggeration of a physician anxious to establish a new

literary ailment. As heretical as it may sound, there is the probability that Negro poets,

dependent as they are on the English language, may have more to gain from the rich

background of English and American poetry than from any nebulous atavistic yearnings

toward an African inheritance. Some of the poets herein represented will eventually find

inclusion in any discriminatingly ordered anthology of American verse, and there will be

no reason for giving such selections the needless distinction of a separate section marked

Negro verse.

While I do not feel that the work of these writers conforms to anything that can be

called the Negro school of poetry, neither do I feel that their work is varied to the

point of being sensational; rather is theirs a variety within a uniformity that is trying

to maintain the higher traditions of English verse. I trust the selections here presented

bear out this contention. The poet writes out of his experience, whether it be personal or

vicarious, and as these experiences differ among other poets, so do they differ among

Negro poets; for the double obligation of being both Negro and American is not so unified

as we are often led to believe. A survey of the work of Negro poets will show that the

individual diversifying ego transcends the synthesizing hue. From the roots of varied

experiences have flowered the dialect of Dunbar, the recent sermon poems of James Weldon

Johnson, and some of Helene Johnson’s more colloquial verses, which, differing essentially

only in a few expressions peculiar to Negro slang, are worthy counterparts of verses done

by John V. A. Weaver "in American." Attempt to hedge all these in with a name,

and your imagination must deny the facts. Langston Hughes, poetizing the blues in his zeal

to represent the Negro masses, and Sterling Brown, combining a similar interest in such

poems as "Long Gone" and "The Odyssey of Big Boy" with a capacity for

turning a neat sonnet according to the rules, represent differences as unique as those

between Burns and Whitman. Jessie Fauset with Cornell University and training at the

Sorbonne as her intellectual equipment surely justifies the very subjects and forms of her

poems: "Touch?," "La Vie C’est la Vie," "Noblesse Oblige,"

etc.; while Lewis Alexander, with no known degree from the University of Tokyo, is equally

within the province of his creative prerogatives in composing Japanese hokkus and tankas.

Although Anne Spencer lives in Lynchburg, Virginia, and in her biographical note

recognizes the Negro as the great American taboo, I have seen but two poems by her which

are even remotely concerned with this subject; rather does she write with a cool precision

that calls forth comparison with Amy Lowell and the influence of a rock-bound seacoast.

And Lula Lowe Weeden, the youngest poet in the volume, living in the same Southern city,

is too young to realize that she is colored in an environment calculated to impress her

daily with the knowledge of this pigmentary anomaly.

There are lights and shades of difference even in their methods of decrying race

injustices, where these peculiar experiences of Negro life cannot be overlooked. Claude

McKay is most exercised, rebellious, and vituperative to a degree that clouds his lyricism

in many instances, but silhouettes most forcibly his high dudgeon; while neither Arna

Bontemps, at all times cool, calm, and intensely religious, nor Georgia Douglas Johnson,

in many instances bearing up bravely under comparison with Sara Teasdale, takes advantage

of the numerous opportunities offered them for rhymed polemics.

If dialect is missed in this collection, it is enough to state that the day of dialect

as far as Negro poets are concerned is in the decline. Added to the fact that these poets

are out of contact with this fast-dying medium, certain sociological considerations and

the natural limitations of dialect for poetic expression militate against its use even as

a tour de force. In a day when artificiality is so vigorously condemned, the Negro

poet would be foolish indeed to turn to dialect. The majority of present-day poems in

dialect are the efforts of white poets. . . .