Ivan Julian and Robert Quine at a 1978 recording session, photo by Kate Simon. This piece presented some challenges with respect to illustration, as will be evident.
After I saw Steve McQueen’s 12 Years A Slave for the first time last fall, I commented to a colleague, “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to listen to ‘Brown Sugar’ again.” This was both kind of a joke and kind of not. One of the most trenchant aspects of the movie was the relentless but very patient and thorough way it laid out the sadistic psychosexual disease with which the white race poisoned both itself and the race it enslaved; the aforementioned song by the Rolling Stones is both a descriptor and a symptom of that same disease. Mick Jagger’s rock-and-roll (that is, somewhat elemental) sense of literary irony, combined with his smirk add further dimensions of discomfort to the tune; on the other hand, or maybe on the same hand, it’s got a good beat and you, whether black or white, but probably particularly if you’re white, as it may turn out, can dance to it. Besides, nobody actually still thinks that the Rolling Stones endorse slavery, and if you read Keith Richards’ autobiography you know that the lyrics to their song generally originate as apt-sounding nonsense words: what we hear in the first verse as “scarred old” is actually “skydog,” which Jagger had recently learned was guitarist Duane Allman’s nickname.
A couple of nights ago, the author Daniel Handler, while hosting the National Book Awards ceremony, made a joke predicated on the fact that Jacqueline Woodson, an African-American author who won an award that evening, was/is “allergic to watermelon.” Various rationalizations, condemnations, recriminations, and apologies followed, and as of the Friday morning I’m writing this, the story still has legs, thanks in part to the tendency of outlets like Salon to get Deeply Troubled and stay Deeply Troubled until they’ve got the whole Deeply Troubling Problem worked out.
My own response to the anecdote was befuddlement of a not entirely purely civic-minded sort. It was more like, “Wait, people actually still tell watermelon jokes?” It sounds glib of me, I know—“Your mode of racism is pretty quaint there, fella! Did Straight Outta Compton accomplish nothing?” My perspective derives from a position I’ve held for a long time, and that Handler’s remarks have maybe shocked me out of holding. It’s this, to begin with: I’ve long considered myself a free-speech absolutist. I’m not sure if my primary influence here was Nat Hentoff or selected issues of Forced Exposure, but there you are. I frequently liked to cite Hentoff’s citation of Brandeis about sunlight being the best disinfectant, the best solution to hate speech being more speech, all that. And as a movie lover, I’ve always deplored censorship, particularly a kind of self-censorship. I understood, conceptually, why Disney would cut the “pickanniny” centaurs in the “Pastoral” sequence of Fantasia when re-releasing that film to general audiences and on home video. But I also bristled at the fact that a film scholar such as myself had no access to an unexpurgated version (the cuts in fact are rather clumsy, from a technical standpoint). Every now and then I’d also express dissatisfaction in my inability to view the Looney Tune “Coal Black And De Sebben Dwarfs” in anything besides a kind of samizdat format. Yeah, the 1943 cartoon indulges in every kind of broad outrageous and unfair caricature of African Americans, but Looney Tunes were at the time, I old myself, equal opportunity providers of broad outrageous and unfair, so what’s the fucking harm? Just slap a disclaimer on the opening title of a Warner Archive “Censored Cartoons” collection or something and be done with it.
I now have a fundamental understanding of the fatal flaw of my logic here. Lester Bangs’ 1979 essay “The White Noise Supremacists” has a heckuva lot to answer for (including its effective slander of Miriam Linna—I really think subsequent editions of Psychotic Reactions And Carburetor Dung ought to have an apologetic footnote or something) but it does have very valuable passages, including a long quote from the African-American musician Ivan Julian, who was a bit of an odd man out in the late ‘70s punk scene while playing with Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Rock Against Racism notwithstanding. Talking to Bangs about levels of music industry racism, Julian said, “I’ll tell you one thing: the entrepreneurs, record company people and shit are a hell of a lot worse. People like Richard Gottehrer, who produced the album, and Seymour Stein and a lot of other people up at Sire records. They were totally condescending, they’d talk to you differently, like you were a child or something. I hard a lot of clichés on the level of being invited over to somebody’s house for fried chicken.”
Invited over to somebody’s house for fried chicken. I read that essay for the first time on its initial publication in the Village Voice when I was 20, and I remember my jaw dropping in piss-and-vinegar indignation. Fried chicken jokes were clearly an old man thing, all other social dimensions implied notwithstanding. This cultural upheaval, the one I was living through, the one I was trying to be a part of, we were going to wipe all that shit out.
That was naïve of me, yes. And as years went by, my opinion mutated, and specifically with respect to the kind of material I describe above. The racist attitudes they embodied, I thought, had by this time been so thoroughly denounced and disproved to be considered completely antiquated, to the point that they could be shrugged off as plainly ridiculous, and hence, the materials containing depictions of those attitudes can be made completely available with no fear of actual harm. And that, I’m afraid, is even more naïve of me—willfully naïve in fact. I’m a straight white male born in 1959 who for some reason honestly thought that watermelon jokes—particularly among literary, or even literate, people—were a thing of the past. Even “meta” watermelon jokes, which I’m not entirely certain Handler’s was. Anyway, for better or worse, Handler, born in 1970, proved me wrong. I can’t really complain if “Coal Black And De Sebben Dwarfs” stays buried. Given the circumstances, it probably ought to.
The only things I’d quibble with are that there are 3 different things here:
1) Racist jokes at the expense of a winner of a book award.
2) Racism expressed in commercial art.
3) Racism expressed in archival art, accessible in a non-commercial way.
For the first case, it’s obviously fucked up, and has zero defense.
For the second case, it’s a VERY grey area. I’ve long had trouble both with “Brown Sugar” and “Under My Thumb”, despite loving both songs as an unenlightened pup. I wouldn’t want them banned in any way, but if I were a DJ, I certainly wouldn’t play either song. But I cut the Rolling Stones some slack due to changing mores, even if I won’t endorse the songs today.
For the third case, I’m actually in favor of accessibility, especially if the profit motive is removed. I’ve long thought Disney should release Song of the South to the public domain, so it could be seen it as a historical document, for example.
“Daniel Handler should be shunned and reviled”
I’m reluctant to shun and revile someone for making a dumb joke in a public setting provided the person’s subsequent actions display honest regret. It’s REALLY easy to say something stupid when you’re trying to be clever; serial rape (Cosby) or sustained prejudicial views (Sterling) are on a whole different level. Handler offered an unequivocal apology and has committed to matching donations for We Need Diverse Books. Compassion and understanding is a wiser route, I believe, than the instinctive casting of stones.
“I’m reluctant to shun and revile someone for making a dumb joke in a public setting provided the person’s subsequent actions display honest regret. It’s REALLY easy to say something stupid when you’re trying to be clever”
Yeah. I do appreciate your reluctance.
But this wasn’t a stand-up comedy set. It was taking focus away from an award winner’s moment in a pretty disgusting manner.
One pretty good analogy is this Isaac Asimov moment from a Jeet Heer twit essay: https://mobile.twitter.com/HeerJeet/status/535442362890059776?p=p
I’ll fully admit to not being 100% sure how folks should respond to such things. But I don’t think an after-the-fact donation really ameliorates the thing, nor does lack of a racist history. (I don’t think the Rolling Stones are racist, but that doesn’t stop my discomfort with “Brown Sugar”) For a case like Handler, I think I still lean toward “shun and revile”, perhaps with a relatively short statue of limitations on that, even though I genuinely don’t dismiss your point.
In a free-speech society, teachable moments really are one of the only tools available. (Hence my conditional endorsement of the “Deeply Troubled” thing.) But it’s a difficult and complicated topic.
Petey, how did you react to Lars von Trier’s Hitler remarks at Cannes, which got him banned from the festival? Better or worse than Nicki Minaj’s animated TRIUMPH OF THE WILL remake? Is there something subversive about an African-American woman essentially recasting herself as Hitler?
“Petey, how did you react to Lars von Trier’s Hitler remarks at Cannes, which got him banned from the festival?”
Well, I initially watched the ENTIRE press conference, not just the notorious sound-bite, and guess what? I found it hilarious, coherent, and utterly unobjectionable.
(NB: I’m an enormous Lars fan to begin with, which could certainly color my perceptions, but I really don’t think that was the case here. The whole thing in context was just not anywhere in the vicinity to what the sound-bite would lead one to believe.)
Now, one could TRY to make the same ‘context’ argument for Handler, though I think it would fail miserably. But regardless, that isn’t the CRUCIAL objection to Handler vis-a-vis Lars. Again, in Handler’s case, he was taking focus away from an award winner’s big moment in a pretty disgusting manner. In Lars’ case, he was taking focus away from HIS OWN MOVIE in whatever manner one perceives. That difference seems incredibly important to me.
(And FWIW, while I disagreed with the reaction by the Cannes festival, I did at least understand why they felt compelled to distance themselves from the sound-bite. I thought it was unfair, and I wouldn’t have done it myself, but again, I do understand their reaction.)
Tangentially, I VERY highly recommend the excellent documentary, The Architecture of Doom, which covers the same basic ground of Nazi aesthetics that Lars was discussing. The documentary concentrates on Hitler’s execrable and laughable aesthetics, while Lars was trying to make some different points concentrated on Speer.
Contemporary America is where a *Federal Judge* sends public e‑mails alleging the President’s mother had intercourse with dogs. Color yourself utterly unsurprised.
Looking at the entirety of Handler’s remarks is helpful.
“I told you! I told Jackie she was going to win. And I said that if she won, I would tell all of you something I learned this summer, which is that Jackie Woodson is allergic to watermelon. Just let that sink in your mind. And I said you have to put that in a book. And she said, ‘You put that in a book.’ And I said, ‘I am only writing a book about a black girl who is allergic to watermelon if I get a blurb from you, Cornell West, Toni Morrison and Barack Obama saying, “This guy’s okay! This guy’s fine!’”
1. The obvious deflating of the win by letting the audience in on a secret about a Black person.
2. The “Just let that sink in your mind.” As if he were peeling back the curtain to let White folk know what really goes on with Black people.
3. The coyness of “‘I am only writing a book about a black girl who is allergic to watermelon if I get a blurb from you, Cornel West, Toni Morrison and Barack Obama saying, “This guy’s okay! This guy’s fine!’”
#2 points to the fact that a person (especially a White person) never truly knows what is going on with Black people – as we saw played out in Ferguson last evening with a return of no bill of indictment – part of the logic of the decision includes the belief that Michael Brown had to be doing something even if it cannot be determined what exactly that something is – he was not just shot because of White fear of the Black male. There are always the hidden aspects of the behavior/being of Black people which justify White apprehension.
#3 is the White victim card – that it is perilous to say anything about Black people – even a factual statement – without first getting insurance that one’s statements will be backed up.
Much surface racism is gone (but far from all), but the deeper racisms that Handler’s remarks betray are a bigger obstacle since they represent a deep and ingrained attitude toward Brown- and Black-skinned bodies that holds them in perpetual distrust. White people may divest themselves of their overt animus, but far too many hang onto their deep distrust.
Jacqueline Woodson has a nice riposte of her own in the the NYT:
http://mobile.nytimes.com/2014/11/29/opinion/the-pain-of-the-watermelon-joke.html
“In a few short words, the audience and I were asked to take a step back from everything I’ve ever written, a step back from the power and meaning of the National Book Award, lest we forget, lest I forget, where I came from. By making light of that deep and troubled history, he showed that he believed we were at a point where we could laugh about it all. His historical context, unlike my own, came from a place of ignorance.”
Jeebus, Glenn. Good catch.
I was chased off the LeftyBlogosphere during the very progressive 111th Congress when I kept railing against the administration’s relentless and successful attempts to handcuff the very progressive 111th Congress. I’ve still got angry press conferences from Pelosi and Reid outside the WH saved on my hard drive from my TiVo.
And while Atrios wasn’t the one who chased me off, (Duncan’s a good guy,) it was the others who sold out to the veal pen, like Ezra and Matty, who chased me off. Hell, I had to deal with doxxing threats.
Now I mostly just crack jokes on your movie site.
We’ll get another shot like the 111th Congress with a Democratic President in a generation or so. Gotta keep my powder dry until then.
A Story I Was Able To Intermittently Dine Out On For Years:
Back when I was a pup, I was pursuing politics instead of cinema. My first year In college, I successfully applied for a summer internship in a up ‘n’ coming Democratic Senator’s office. By the end of that year, I was into cinema, and realized I no longer wanted to be a politico, but figured the Hill experience was too good to pass up.
At night, along with a few like-minded interns, we would scan the published listing of Society and Lobbyist parties to bum rush with our Congressional badges, in order to scarf up free food and booze, as well as to get a glimpse at how power ACTUALLY worked in the town.
One night we ended up at a birthday party Marty Peretz was throwing for Eppie Lederer. It was a ritzy affair; caviar on toast points and top shelf liquor. Now, back in the mists of time, I hated Peretz not for his racism, but instead for his relentless support for the Contras. (Sandinista!) So I proceeded to slowly commit a series of ascending social faux pas on Peretz to annoy him. Accidentally bumping into him, innocently interrupting his conversations with non-sequitors, spilling my drink on his tux, and so on. It took him about an hour, but eventually he summoned security to throw us out, literally hiding behind the guards while calling us scum. An hard-earned badge of honor I still wear.
“… or selected issues of Forced Exposure.” Made me laugh. Good one, Glenn.
I’d consider myself a free-speech absolutist if it weren’t for this anonymous handle I maintain for professional reasons…damn!
In related news, GetTV, a diginet I’m pretty sure on the basis of recent tweets Glenn actually watches, is running AFRICA SCREAMS this week.