The Souls of Black Folk (Dover Thrift Editions) Unabridged Edition

Regrettably, for me, this has been a long overlooked classic. I’ve read my share of the works of black American authors, such as James Baldwin, Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison and most recently, Ta-Nehisi Coats. Not having read Du Bois seems to have been the functional equivalent of not having read Homer.

William Edward Burghardt “W.E.B.” Du Bois lived a full productive life which spanned the long era of “Jim Crow.” He was born in 1868, and died at the age of 95, one year before the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, in Accra, Ghana, as a citizen of that country. He was the first African-American to earn a Ph.D. from Harvard. His writings reflect a thorough grounding in the Greek and Roman classics, with references that were – at times, frankly beyond me. His prose is temperate, the “outrage” is left to the reader to conclude when the circumstances are described in measured terms, which often fully acknowledges the faults and predicaments of his own race. As the introduction says: “Du Bois achieves in his text a rare combination of pathos and dignity, presenting a portrait of black culture that commands respect.” For many years he would teach at the Atlanta University complex, and writes fondly of the 100 hills of Atlanta, the trees, and the red clay soil of Georgia. His wry introspection is demonstrated in the opening paragraph, where he asks the subject question.

The vast majority of these 14 separate but intertwined essays concern racial relations in the United States after the Emancipation and the year of publication, 1903. One in particular was not, which was reflective of his own experience, when his first-born son died in infancy. In the third essay he presents his arguments with Booker T. Washington, concerning the education of the Negro in “trade schools,” stressing the need for the classical education which Du Bois had, saying that they had “put up high schools and called them colleges.” “Mr. Washington represents in Negro thought the old attitude of adjustment and submission.” Washington asked them to give up three things – “Political power, Insistence on Civil Rights, and Higher Education of Negro Youth.” Du Bois was the one who insisted that all three were “musts.” Separately, Du Bois says: “for the South believed that an educated Negro to be a dangerous Negro.” From my own experience, Du Bois is only looking at a sub-set, since I would add that, in general, anyone who is both educated – and questioning in a substantive way – of either race, South or North, is considered both “dangerous” and “a trouble maker.”

The Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands, immediately established in the aftermath of the Civil War, and led by Major General Oliver O. Howard, from Maine, who Du Bois describes as: “an honest man, with too much faith in human nature, little aptitude for business and intricate detail” was another topic I was totally unfamiliar with. Du Bois describes the initiative of mainly white female teachers from New England as “the 9th Crusade” for their efforts in establishing schools in the South, for both blacks and whites, after the Civil War. When the Freedman Bureau died, Du Bois describes its child as the Fifteen Amendment to the Constitution.

In other essays, he describes his experience as a student at Fisk University in Nashville, and his subsequent experience teaching in very rudimentary log cabins for black students, and how he was housed in the homes of the student’s parents. In another temperate essay, he enrages the reader with the story of my “namesake,” John Jones, a black who had serious problems, both North and South. In NYC, he purchased an expensive ticket to see an opera, was seated, enjoying the performance when an usher, every so apologetically explained that the seat had been previously sold, and he would have to move (he was seated next to a white woman, and her husband had complained). Of course we will refund your money the usher explains. Jones decides to return to his native South, where the people seem more honest in their bigotry. There is a telling scene where Jones went to see “the Judge” who claimed he had “done so much for your people,” but Jones makes the mistake of going to the front door, and is rebuked for bringing those “uppity” Northern ideas back home.

By far the essay that was the most informative, and resonated the strongest was the one on Dougherty County, Georgia, at the west end of the “Black belt” in that state. In the 1880’s-90’s the population was approximately 10,000 blacks and 2,000 whites. Du Bois describes in detail the economics of growing cotton in that county, with its impact on the humans, and the mechanisms that were used to keep everyone in debt, and therefore under control (today, many a college graduate would understand well). Consider just one fact: Cotton was 14 cents a pound in 1860 and 4 cents a pound in 1898. In the early ‘70’s I would travel to Dougherty County on business on a monthly basis, and was utterly oblivious to these central historical facts. ‘Tis more than a bit embarrassing. And then there is the matter of those formative experiences with two of the progeny from Dougherty County, each living on a different side of what Du Bois would call “the Veil.” Further heightened embarrassment that I did not know. Better late than…

6-stars for Du Bois seminal perceptions.

The Souls of Black Folk was written at a time when books still had the power to sway public opinion and move people - and that was definitely the motive. This book is not merely descriptive, or a dry recitation of facts, but a elegant treatise whose intent is to sway the policy of its time. In the simplest of summaries, Dubois is laying his argument for how both policies and individuals should be shaped by and for African Americans in the decades not long removed from the civil war. It can be a tough read, because approximately a century and a half later, many of the problems he addresses still plague our nation. Dubois was also an advocate for education, and it is also of interest how many of the arguments regarding education could still be made today as well. The icing on the cake is W.E.B. Dubois is a marvelously poetic writer whose work gives one a feel for late 19th century America, particular the south. The Souls of Black Folk never feels dry, but rich despite the difficult topics it raises, many of which are still valid.

The writing includes several dichotomies. Throughout the book a type of philosophy is expressed, noted by capitalized ideals, especially "the Veil" but also "Liberty" or "Progress", as if the man was introduced to ideas in a realm of more wealth and entitlement, perhaps a secret society, and such parts were not as soulful as the more basic and well-written descriptions of black people and their plight. Occasionally black people were called "shiftless" or "idle" which surprised me. It could be undetected by a casual reader because the book is written in a scholarly manner. However, revolting crimes of whites towards blacks or the general reality of black people of the time would be described in perfect clarity as well, even though the somewhat odd, "educated" philisophy remained interspersed throughout. Perhaps those notions helped him resolve himself as being educated, intellectual, maybe even wealthy as he rode in Jim Crow train cars, but it often seemed luciferian in nature to me, as if the wealth of the world had a right to know what "enlightenment" is or to experiment on humble human beings or use them selfishly to gain more wealth, which is obviously not enlightenment. This was a very interesting read because of the dichotomies presented, nothing felt better than the down to earth descriptions of the reality of the times, and yet this man's soul was affected by the philosophies he mentioned and all people are affected by the vast array of knowledge and choices, good or bad. Imagine this person's struggle to merely be considered a human. Slaves and recently freed people then lived a horrifying oppression, yet to me the souls of black folk are beautiful, no matter what is said.

Mechanically the book is missing the last line. Now that is not a quality edition.

In these days of renewed uncertainty, when the social progress made seems precarious, it helps to see from where we've come. This book, a cornerstone of civil rights literature, deserves a fresh look. This was my first time reading it, to be sure, but I felt a deep and human connection with the world it describes. Not because Blacks face the same challenges as 100 years ago, but that the mentality of people on all sides seems to have changed very little; the problems have only evolved with time as social and legal progress has been made. Yes, I'm white, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the magnitude of struggle. Many passages in this book are painful to read. Du Bois' writing at times approaches the level of poetry and abundantly conveys what he aspires to in his title. It's really hard for me to pick a favorite passage, but the last chapter wouldn't be a bad choice. I also liked the touch of beginning each chapter with a poem and snippet of melody. If you haven't read it, you should; if you have, then read it again. The words and historical memory are needed more than ever.