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Dunbar's poetry generally falls into two groups: those written in a "high" literary English, and those which reproduce American vernacular speech (the "dialect pieces," as Howells calls them). Dunbar's gift is that he excels in both modes. He is adept at using a number of different meter and rhyme schemes; the best of his poems achieve a musicality and technical proficiency that compare favorably with the poetry of Edgar Allan Poe.
Yes, some of his poems seem quite dated today. They are often excessively sentimental and sometimes tediously conventional. But "Lyrics" is also full of some really outstanding, thought-provoking pieces. Consider "Frederick Douglass," a stirring tribute to the great African-American writer and activist; Dunbar follows 9 stanzas of iambic pentameter in an ABABCC rhyme scheme with a concluding ABABCCDD stanza. (Indeed, I find half the fun of reading Dunbar to be analyzing his diverse poetic structures.)
In poems like "Song" and "Ode to Ethiopia," Dunbar shows a pride in the African-American people. And although some poems seem to present a romantic, sentimental view of slavery, consider the brilliant "An Ante-Bellum Sermon": this "dialect" poem satirically demonstrates how Black slave preachers managed to subvert the racist biblical interpretations of the slavemasters.
Other outstanding selections include "Religion," which envisions a humanistic faith; "The Spellin'-Bee," a longer narrative poem of small-town life; "The Colored Soldiers," a tribute to the "gallant colored soldiers / Who fought for Uncle Sam," and "When de Co'n Pone's Hot," a celebration of traditional soul food.
Dunbar's poetry can be seen as a forerunner for the work of such American poets as Langston Hughes and Gwendolyn Brooks. And for a fascinating complement to Dunbar's poetry, read the poetry of his American contemporary, Stephen Crane (1871-1900); "The Complete Poems of Stephen Crane" have been edited by Joseph Katz. To sum up, Dunbar is a poet whose life overlapped the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but I believe that he has something to say for contemporary readers and scholars.
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Poems of Cabin and Field moved me in ways hard to describe. I was hit from three intimate directions at once. I am a poet, this is the heart of poetry. I am an historian, this is living, breathing history. Lastly, but first by nature, I am a Southerner, and this is as Southern as it gets.
Dunbar's work is a masterpiece. My favorite was "The Deserted Plantation," which is the very kernel of Southern history itself, though it is hard to choose any single line over another in these wondrous gifts of soul. It is so refreshing to dip in this sparkling wellspring of the South.
May Dunbar and his Poems of Cabin and Field be remembered always.
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The nation and the world should be grateful to these important social commentaries of verse by one Paul Laurence Dunbar. I know that I, as an American, am enternally appreciative.
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IF NOT HE...THEN WHO?
From Jehovah's well of talent Dunbar drew poetic pictures of old times made new voices he gave to a people no one heard silent words hometales of slavery some happy all blue
Over his grave they made remarks saying his words were not so smart others cursed the rhymes he knew common verses rang so true love professed in witty ways his labor beyond them grew if not he to share a page of ourstory I ask myself then who? Other revealed their peoples ways city life & country days what mattered most is the little he knew feeling hearts and souls of our people stories, folktales, poetry, plays, songs in his birds eye view
Hidden from the world he grew fed on his parents voice slavery's addendum racist realities...he had no choice Born free to read and write in public view what else could he do? wrote in prose drew a rose if not he to stand above the few then who? Harris, English, Lanier, Chestnutt, Davis & Hay wrote plantation stories in their day make beleive stories in broken words Dunbar in English, Irish & German were heard he set his pen to move with God a blessing his lyrics set me free so to critics who live to critize tell me who could do it but he?
(c)1999 Oni Lasana
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After a disturbing turn of events, the Hamilton family leaves their home in the southern U.S. and makes their way to New York City, where they try to start a new life. But the pressures of urban life have serious consequences for each member of the family.
"Sport" is a story about injustice, innocence, and temptation. As he follows this family's story, Dunbar looks at many different relationships: parent/child, husband/wife, black/white, etc. Particularly interesting is his look at the relationship between the media reporter and those who are the object of media reports. The book also presents an ironic view of artists and their connection to larger society.
"Sport" is a dark, moralistic tale. Although the characterizations are fairly shallow, Dunbar's narrative moves along effectively. I actually found the most intriguing character to be Skaggs, a white reporter for a "yellow" newspaper. This novel serves as an ironic complement to those slave autobiographies (such as the "Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass") which depict a flight to the north as a liberating experience; the north in "Sport" is a cold, amoral place full of dangers for black people. Overall, this is a compelling book that I regard as a significant milestone in African-American literature.
An interesting story revolving around a black family that is forced out of the South after being falsely accused of crime. The story is a narrative of their actions and reactions to a new lifestyle in urban New York City. Great philosphical moments such as the bartender teaching the young man the ropes of life.
An interesting and quick read. It's hard to put down this book.
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Dunbar wrote in two different styles. On the one hand, he wrote straightforward classic verse that was filled with racial pride:
THE COLORED SOLDIERS
IF the muse were mine to tempt it And my feeble voice were strong, If my tongue were trained to measures, I would sing a stirring song. I would sing a song heroic Of those noble sons of Ham, Of the gallant colored soldiers Who fought for Uncle Sam!
In the early days you scorned them, And with many a flip and flout Said "These battles are the white man's, And the whites will fight them out." Up the hills you fought and faltered, In the vales you strove and bled, While your ears still heard the thunder Of the foes' advancing tread.
Then distress fell on the nation, And the flag was drooping low; Should the dust pollute your banner? No! the nation shouted, No! So when War, in savage triumph, Spread abroad his funeral pall-- Then you called the co]ored soldiers, And they answered to your call.
And like hounds unleashed and eager For the life blood of the prey, Sprung they forth and bore them bravely In the thickest of the fray. And where'er the fight was hottest, Where the bullets fastest fell, There they pressed unblanched and fearless At the very mouth of hell.
Ah, they rallied to the standard To uphold it by their might; None were stronger in the labors, None were braver in the fight. From the blazing breach of Wagner To the plains of Olustee, They were foremost in the fight Of the battles of the free.
And at Pillow! God have mercy On the deeds committed there, An the souls of those poor victims Sent to Thee without a prayer. Let the fulness of Thy pity O'er the hot wrought spirits sway Of the gallant colored soldiers Who fell fighting on that day!
Yes, the Blacks enjoy their freedom, And they won it dearly,too; For the life blood of their thousands Did the southern fields bedew. In the darkness of their bondage, In the depths of slavery's night, Their muskets flashed the dawning, And they fought their way to light
They were comrades then and brothers, Are they more or less to-day? They were good to stop a bullet And to front the fearful fray. They were citizens and soldiers, When rebellion raised its head; And the traits that made them worthy,-- Ah! those virtues are not dead.
They have shared your nightly vigils, They have shared your daily toil; And their blood with yours commingling Has enriched the Southern soil. They have met as fierce a foeman, And have been as brave and true.
And their deeds shall find a record In the registry of Fame; For their blood has cleansed completely Every blot of Slavery's shame.
So all honor and all glory To those noble sons of Ham-- The gallant colored soldiers Who fought for Uncle Sam!
WE WEAR THE MASK
We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,-- This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream other-wise, We wear the mask!
But on the other hand, he was a master of dialect poems:
AN ANTE-BELLUM SERMON.
WE is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs, In dis howlin' wildaness, Fu' to speak some words of comfo't To each othah in distress. An' we chooses fu' ouah subjic' Dis--we 'll 'splain it by an' by; "An' de Lawd said, 'Moses, Moses,' An' de man said, 'Hyeah am I.'"
Now ole Pher'oh, down in Egypt, Was de wuss man evah bo'n, An' he had de Hebrew chillun Down dah wukin' in his co'n; 'Twell de Lawd got tiahed o' his foolin', An' sez he: "I 'll let him know-- Look hyeah, Moses, go tell Pher'oh Fu' to let dem chillun go."
"An' ef he refuse to do it, I will make him rue de houah,
Fu' I 'll empty down on Egypt All de vials of my powah." Yes, he did--an' Pher'oh's ahmy Was n't wuth a ha'f a dime; Fu' de Lawd will he'p his chillun, You kin trust him evah time.
An' yo' enemies may 'sail you In de back an' in de front; But de Lawd is all aroun' you, Fu' to ba' de battle's brunt. Dey kin fo'ge yo' chains an' shackles F'om de mountains to de sea; But de Lawd will sen' some Moses Fu' to set his chillun free.
An' de lan' shall hyeah his thundah, Lak a blas' f'om Gab'el's ho'n, Fu' de Lawd of hosts is mighty When he girds his ahmor on. But fu' feah some one mistakes me, I will pause right hyeah to say, Dat I 'm still a-preachin' ancient, I ain't talkin' 'bout to-day.
But I tell you, fellah christuns, Things 'll happen mighty strange; Now, de Lawd done dis fu' Isrul, An' his ways don't nevah change, An' de love he showed to Isrul Was n't all on Isrul spent; Now don't run an' tell yo' mastahs Dat I 's preachin' discontent.
'Cause I is n't; I 'se a-judgin' Bible people by deir ac's; I 'se a-givin' you de Scriptuah, I 'se a-handin' you de fac's. Cose ole Pher'oh b'lieved in slav'ry, But de Lawd he let him see, Dat de people he put bref in,-- Evah mothah's son was free.
An' dahs othahs thinks lak Pher'oh, But dey calls de Scriptuah liar, Fu' de Bible says "a servant Is a-worthy of his hire." An' you cain't git roun' nor thoo dat, An' you cain't git ovah it, Fu' whatevah place you git in, Dis hyeah Bible too 'll fit.
So you see de Lawd's intention, Evah sence de worl' began, Was dat His almighty freedom Should belong to evah man, But I think it would be bettah, Ef I 'd pause agin to say, Dat I 'm talkin' 'bout ouah freedom In a Bibleistic way.
But de Moses is a-comin', An' he 's comin', suah and fas' We kin hyeah his feet a-trompin', We kin hyeah his trumpit blas'. But I want to wa'n you people, Don't you git too brigity; An' don't you git to braggin' 'Bout dese things, you wait an' see.
But when Moses wif his powah Comes an' sets us chillun free, We will praise de gracious Mastah Dat has gin us liberty; An' we 'll shout ouah halleluyahs, On dat mighty reck'nin' day, When we 'se reco'nised ez citiz'-- Huh uh! Chillun, let us pray!
Inevitably, in a Reconstruction America that was both nostalgic and regionalist, his dialect poems were wildly popular & tended to overshadow his more serious verse. As a result, he has always been a figure of some controversy in Black America; alternately dismissed for popularizing a derogatory stereotype of Blacks and hailed as a great literary figure. Dunbar captures this dichotomy in his own poem, The Poet:
The Poet
He sang of life, serenely sweet, With , now ant then, a deeper note. From some high peak, nigh yet remote, He voiced the world's absorbing beat.
He sang of love when earth was young, And Love, itself, was in his lays. But ah, the world, it turned to praise A jingle in a broken tongue.
Given the perspective of 100 years, it seems to me that he deserves to be read by all Americans.
GRADE: B+
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The length of the books is just right. These books are long enough to cover the important events in the subject's life and to meet the requirements that teachers often give for book reports (a book longer than 50 pages. Yet they are short enough that they don't intimidate elementary school children. (This biography of Paul Laurence Dunbar has 110 pages.)
These books are well organized and informative. In the back are an appendix, a chronology of the person's life, a bibliography, and an index.
The biography of Paul Laurence Dunbar was fascinating. I am curious to know more about this poet, especially his religious beliefs. Also, I would like to read more of his writings. He had many obstacles to overcome, such as being poor and black at a time when racism was rampant. (He lived from 1872 to 1906.) Yet he worked hard, took risks, and persevered until he achieved his dream of being a successful poet and author. He was a very talented poet who inspired other black poets such as Langston Hughes. However, the latter years of his life were sad and tragic as he became chronically ill and developed an alcohol problem. Details about his alcohol problems were omitted, as is appropriate in a book written for elementary children. I am now interested in reading an adult biography and am curious to know if he turned to God for comfort in his despair.
I liked how several different visual artists contributed to this book; this gives the book a nice sense of variety. My favorite illustrations include Jerry Pinkney's pictures, which are vibrant with color and energy, and Carole Byard's delicate picture that accompanies "The Sparrow."
These are poems about nature, African-American culture, and the joys of love and family life. This book is an excellent choice for a multicultural children's book collection.