When James Baldwin died, just under two years ago, he seemed to have been almost forgotten, a relic of the 1950s and the early 60s, a man whose passionate essays and novels had been early manifestations of the black revolt and whose unashamed sexuality had pointed to the even later gay-liberation movement. Yet his funeral overflowed New York City’s cavernous Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. And this past year has seen the appearance of a documentary film, The Price of the Ticket, and of a wide-ranging memorial volume—James Baldwin: The Legacy, with interviews and articles by friends and critics from Maya Angelou to Mary McCarthy to Nigerian playwright and Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka. Now the Chicago Public Library Cultural Center gives additional evidence that Baldwin’s memory—and perhaps his influence—is not dead.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
“James Baldwin: The Prophet” is a one-day tribute that will include a panel discussion and a showing of The Price of the Ticket. Speakers on the panel, moderated by In These Times editor Salim Muwakkil, will include Studs Terkel, literary critic and poet Sterling Plumpp, Kuumba Theatre director and founder Val Grey Ward, and Walter Bradford, a Chicago poet and social worker whose production company, Two Wings to Fly, is responsible for the event.
Baldwin’s life seems to describe a familiar pattern: early success followed by a long period of decline. But is this picture accurate? His writing didn’t fall off in style or intensity—at least I don’t find that it did. Certainly Baldwin did not pull in his horns: “There was not, then, nor is there, now,” he wrote as an old man, “a single American institution which is not a racist institution.” This is not a mellow statement. In fact, what most stands out about his life and writings is consistency. This man forged conclusions from his early experiences, found a voice for them, and stuck by them to the end.
Baldwin persevered in “bearing witness,” as he often put it. He also came to think that perhaps repetition was futile: in an interview two weeks before his death he said, “I was trying to tell the truth and it takes a long time to realize that . . . there’s no point in saying this again. It’s been said, and it’s been said, and it’s been said. It’s been heard and not heard. You are a broken motor.” This may suggest a lack of development on Baldwin’s part. It might also suggest a message that’s timeless.
