“Did you check the box?” I asked, apropos of nothing we had just discussed.
Without missing a beat, my good son-in-law responded, “Yes, sir. I did.”
“Very good,” I responded, as I poured a second shot of Pappy Van Winkle.
The box that Gates’s son-in-law checked on a birth registration form indicates that his granddaughter is Black, even though his daughter’s genetic admixture is 75 percent European, and his son-in-law is 100 percent European. In other words, as Gates notes, his granddaughter “will test about 87.5 percent European when she spits in the test tube.”
Gates offers this anecdote to suggest the arbitrariness of racial categories, and to focus our attention on the image of the box — a container that can function simultaneously as a “circumscribed enclosure” and a zone in which the confined can create a growing “social and cultural world.”
“The Black Box” is based on lectures Gates has delivered for many years in his Introduction to African American Studies class at Harvard. From the beginning, he shows, African Americans have turned to literary forms to validate their humanity. He quickly sketches the childhood of Phillis Wheatley — her journey to America via slave ship, her rapid mastery of English — and the varied responses to her poetry, which she began to publish as a precocious teenager.
In other chapters, Gates writes about the manifold contributions of W.E.B. Du Bois; the boldness and flair of the Harlem Renaissance generation; the fierce debate between Zora Neale Hurston and Richard Wright over the proper way to represent the Black experience in literature; and the politics of passing.
Many of these ideas will be familiar to readers — Gates has written about them before. The allure of this book, and the reason for its existence, are the narrative links he draws among these people and events, and his insistence that a survey of African American history is incomplete without a special consideration of how writing has undergirded and powered it. This is a literary history of Black America, but it is also an argument that African American history is inextricable from the history of African American literature.
This is also a moment when many politicians are challenging at work revising our shared history in order to justify present-day policy agendas. Gates addresses this phenomenon in his concluding chapter, portions of which appeared in The New York Times a year ago. He invokes the story of Mildred Lewis Rutherford, the historian general of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, who argued throughout her career that the Civil War was simply “the War Between the States,” and had nothing to do with slavery.
As Gates notes, it is essential to repeat the truth about history as often as possible, and to repel efforts to redefine it, because “what is inscribed on the blackboard translates directly to social practices unfolding on the street.”
