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A review by calarco
The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois
5.0
Influential, ground-breaking, and timeless—W. E. B. Du Bois’ [b:The Souls of Black Folk|318742|The Souls of Black Folk|W.E.B. Du Bois|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1309202855l/318742._SY75_.jpg|1137159] is an amazing social analysis/piece of literature that took the world by storm. I knew Du Bois was a force of nature, but I had no idea of just how truly influential he was (and is) until I read this work.
A century before Ta-Nehisi Coates penned [b:Between the World and Me|25489625|Between the World and Me|Ta-Nehisi Coates|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1451435027l/25489625._SY75_.jpg|44848425] as a letter to his son on racial injustice in America, W. E. B. Du Bois asked of his fellow man, ”Between me and the other world there is ever an unasked question: unasked by some through feelings of delicacy; by others through the difficulty of rightly framing it. All, nevertheless, flutter round it… How does it feel to be a problem? I answer seldom a word.” With these sentiments, Du Bois presents the concept of life ”within the Veil”—a manifestation of the color line—where life is split between the expectation established by hegemony, and the reality of systemic injustice.
Du Bois evaluates life ”within the Veil” throughout a number of the essays presented in this volume. Notably though, in Our Spiritual Strivings, he expands that within this context, how people form a type of ”double-consciousness”. This term, Du Bois explains as:
“After the Egyptian and Indian, the Greek and Roman, the Teuton and Mongolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world, — a world which yields him no self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One feels his two-ness, — an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.
In addition to offering elegance and insight, Du Bois’ social analysis, which was built on thoughtful interactions with the people he was writing about, predates the work of many prominent anthropologists first credited with “inventing” ethnographic field work. I would actually consider this collection to be one of the best ethnographic collections I have ever read. Du Bois was a man ahead of his time in a number of ways, though his work will most likely be remembered for its very real impact on civil rights in the United States.
Over half a century before Martin Luther King Jr. “had a dream,”, Du Bois questioned in his final essay, The Sorrow Songs, “Sometimes it is faith in life, sometimes a faith in death, sometimes assurance of boundless justice in some fair world beyond. But whichever it is, the meaning is always clear: that sometime, somewhere, men will judge men by their souls and not by their skins. Is such a hope justified?”
Given the current reality, I think that this question is (and will remain) one worth revisiting. This, in addition to a number of other great content, including a memorable critique of Booker T. Washington’s more conservative approaches, is why I think The Souls of Black Folk is a book worth reading. Either way, Du Bois’ resonance will persist whether or not you are aware of it.
A century before Ta-Nehisi Coates penned [b:Between the World and Me|25489625|Between the World and Me|Ta-Nehisi Coates|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1451435027l/25489625._SY75_.jpg|44848425] as a letter to his son on racial injustice in America, W. E. B. Du Bois asked of his fellow man, ”Between me and the other world there is ever an unasked question: unasked by some through feelings of delicacy; by others through the difficulty of rightly framing it. All, nevertheless, flutter round it… How does it feel to be a problem? I answer seldom a word.” With these sentiments, Du Bois presents the concept of life ”within the Veil”—a manifestation of the color line—where life is split between the expectation established by hegemony, and the reality of systemic injustice.
Du Bois evaluates life ”within the Veil” throughout a number of the essays presented in this volume. Notably though, in Our Spiritual Strivings, he expands that within this context, how people form a type of ”double-consciousness”. This term, Du Bois explains as:
“After the Egyptian and Indian, the Greek and Roman, the Teuton and Mongolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world, — a world which yields him no self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One feels his two-ness, — an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.
In addition to offering elegance and insight, Du Bois’ social analysis, which was built on thoughtful interactions with the people he was writing about, predates the work of many prominent anthropologists first credited with “inventing” ethnographic field work. I would actually consider this collection to be one of the best ethnographic collections I have ever read. Du Bois was a man ahead of his time in a number of ways, though his work will most likely be remembered for its very real impact on civil rights in the United States.
Over half a century before Martin Luther King Jr. “had a dream,”, Du Bois questioned in his final essay, The Sorrow Songs, “Sometimes it is faith in life, sometimes a faith in death, sometimes assurance of boundless justice in some fair world beyond. But whichever it is, the meaning is always clear: that sometime, somewhere, men will judge men by their souls and not by their skins. Is such a hope justified?”
Given the current reality, I think that this question is (and will remain) one worth revisiting. This, in addition to a number of other great content, including a memorable critique of Booker T. Washington’s more conservative approaches, is why I think The Souls of Black Folk is a book worth reading. Either way, Du Bois’ resonance will persist whether or not you are aware of it.