Baldwin was an interesting dude. Remember reading his autobiographical novel Notes Of A Native Son at Temple. Can't remember if it was for Eng Comp. or Poli Sci.. One interesting note was that I was having a late Christmas dinner with friends up around 112th and Broadway when I lived near Columbia around 1981. It was a Chinese restaurant. At the next table was Baldwin chain smoking, his presumed male spouse and a drunk giggly French girl in her twenties, a college reporter I think, she breaking in from time to time in French and English. I remember when he died, His memorial service at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine down the street drew record crowds in excess of 3,000 people in attendance.
...
Some of what he wrote sticks with me. His being a kid outside the public library at 42nd and 5th Ave and a nasty Irish cop telling him he didn't belong there. He belonged up in Harlem. Oh yeah? Yeah right. As a kid when an adult tells you that you can't do something, something in the species or genes that wants to prove the old cracketr wrong. lol
Facebook remarks by myself re: James Baldwin 21 March 2017
No comments:
Post a Comment