It's shocking how little has changed between the races in this country
since 1963, when James Baldwin published this coolly impassioned plea
to "end the racial nightmare." The Fire Next Time--even the title is beautiful, resonant, and incendiary. "Do I really want
to be integrated into a burning house?" Baldwin demands, flicking
aside the central race issue of his day and calling instead for full
and shared acceptance of the fact that America is and always has been a
multiracial society. Without this acceptance, he argues, the nation
dooms itself to "sterility and decay" and to eventual destruction at
the hands of the oppressed: "The Negroes of this country may never be
able to rise to power, but they are very well placed indeed to
precipitate chaos and ring down the curtain on the American dream."
Baldwin's seething insights and directives, so disturbing to the
white liberals and black moderates of his day, have become the starting
point for discussions of American race relations: that debasement and
oppression of one people by another is "a recipe for murder"; that
"color is not a human or a personal reality; it is a political
reality"; that whites can only truly liberate themselves when they
liberate blacks, indeed when they "become black" symbolically and
spiritually; that blacks and whites "deeply need each other here" in
order for America to realize its identity as a nation.
Yet despite its edgy tone and the strong undercurrent of violence, The Fire Next Time
is ultimately a hopeful and healing essay. Baldwin ranges far in these
hundred pages--from a memoir of his abortive teenage religious
awakening in Harlem (an interesting commentary on his first novel Go Tell It on the Mountain)
to a disturbing encounter with Nation of Islam founder Elijah
Muhammad. But what binds it all together is the eloquence, intimacy,
and controlled urgency of the voice. Baldwin clearly paid in sweat and
shame for every word in this text. What's incredible is that he managed
to keep his cool. --David Laskin