Paul Laurence Dunbar
About a month ago, I stopped by the library in search of something to read. Walking pass a display case, a book cover caught my eye. It was a plain, yet elegant, black and white photo of a man taken a long time ago. As I got closer, I realized that it was Paul Laurence Dunbar. The book — In His Own Voice: The Dramatic and Other Uncollected Works of Paul Laurence Dunbar — is a compilation of Dunbar’s work that picks up where other collections have left off.
The forward to the book was written by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Gates recalls his father reciting long forms of poetry from Kipling and Longfellow but that his favorite was Dunbar’s “In the Morning.” Gates father would wake him up with Dunbar’s “In the Morning” and years later, Gates did the same with his children.
It’s interesting to me the seamless incorporation of poetry, verse and rhyme into everyday life as a part of black (African American) culture. I remember my mother responding to some of my questions about her life with “Well, chile…I’ll tell you. Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.” She said it enough so that I would respond with “Yes, I know…it had tacks and splinters!” My mother never told me about Langston Hughes or his poem “Mother to Son” but she used his words.
And since I’ve started down this road, I wonder if Alice Walker is aware of how often her words remain very much alive in black culture. The Color Purple was published in 1982 and the movie released in 1985. Several lines from different scenes continue to be liberally infused into casual conversation. Here are some of the most popular: You told Harpo to Beat Me, I’s married now, and Harpo, Who Dis Woman? Just last week, a friend expressed his love for his mother just as Sophia proclaimed her love for Harpo: I love’s Harpo! God knowwwsss I do!
These re-enactments express not only the frustration, anger, and irony of life; but also the needed relief of humor — and with it love, hope and acceptance. This is why the work of Dunbar and all black authors is important; they have documented the unique experiences of a group of people in a strange land that they’ve made their home— in this case, the African diaspora in America.
Many are familiar with Maya Angelou’s I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings which is an autobiography of Angelou’s early life. However, the title comes from the last stanza of Dunbar’s beautiful poem “Sympathy.”
I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore, —
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings —
I know why the caged bird sings!
Dunbar’s work, in particular, is critical as he was born 9 years after the Emancipation Proclamation. He was coming to age at a time when America was adjusting to her new reality. Fortunately and miraculously, there was the emergence of black writers, educators and intellectuals including Frederick Douglas, W. E. B. DuBois, Booker T. Washington and Dunbar to show her the way.
Dunbar’s life intersected with key figures in American history. In high school, Dunbar began publishing and editing in two papers owned by Orville Wright. This is the same Orville Wright of the Wright brothers, known for their innovation in aviation. The Wright brothers were also in the printing business, building and designing their own printing press. Dunbar and Orville Wright were in the same high school graduating class of 1891 with Dunbar writing the class song. Just a couple of years later, Dunbar was employed as a clerk for Frederick Douglas in Chicago. Dunbar also participated in both of President Theodore Roosevelt’s inaugural parades in 1901 and 1905. I would have paid attention to the history of my formative years if it had been presented to me in this way.
As a writer, Dunbar was prolific. In His Own Voice is a compilation of Dunbar’s uncollected works. It includes 75 works in 6 genres — short stories, plays, musicals, poetry, songs and essays. When I think of Dunbar, I mostly associate him with his poetry, in particular “We Wear the Mask.” However, he explored many genres.
Today, we focus too much on branding and formulas for success. Not only is this detrimental to the artist but also harmful to society and culture. We need pure expressions of art to reflect people and the times in which we live. This expression may not always fit into one genre. We should explore all genres available to us to determine which is best for the story we want to tell — and if necessary, create our own.
Although In His Own Voice offers a range of genres to select from, I’ve been spending more time with Dunbar’s essays. As essays do, it provides Dunbar’s thoughts on a particular theme or subject. Most important, these themes are shaped by the times in which he lived. I’m curious as to what this black man, from Dayton, Ohio, post emancipation has to say about his world. Both of Dunbar’s parents were born slaves although his father was able to escape slavery and join the Union Army.
Dunbar’s essays are compelling. He expressed his concerns for black people that are still relevant today — the criminal justice system, education, the role of black leaders, black journalism, class divisions as a result of progress and opportunities for advancement. At the same time, his essays show that his interests and his life extended far beyond his concerns for his people. I enjoyed a rather sophisticated essay Dunbar wrote in high school in which he made a comparison of the works of Charles Dickens to William Thackeray.
Much of the presentation of black history in the classrooms in which I was raised, and still today in mainstream media, seem to focus on a few events along a more than 400 year timeline — slave trade, emancipation, civil rights movement and now the addition of Barak Obama. Dunbar’s work helps to fill in the missing pieces, especially in the years following emancipation.
I am taking my time reading In His Own Voice. I always enjoy learning about black history, especially one that isn’t just about our ailments, woes and doom. At the same time, I can just enjoy Dunbar as the writer, impressed with the power of his words.
I am what time, circumstance, history,
have made of me, certainly, but I am also,
much more than that.
So are we all. — James Baldwin
