Edited and with a Preface by Toni Morrison, this posthumous collection of short stories, essays, and interviews offers lasting evidence of Bambara's passion, lyricism, and tough critical intelligence. Included are tales of mothers and daughters, rebels and seeresses, community activists and aging gangbangers, as well as essays on film and literature, politics and race, and on the difficulties and necessities of forging an identity as an artist, activist, and black woman. It is a treasure trove not only for those familiar with Bambara's work, but for a new generation of readers who will recognize her contribution to contemporary American letters.
Toni Cade Bambara, born Miltona Mirkin Cade (March 25, 1939 – December 9, 1995) was an African-American author, documentary film-maker, social activist and college professor.
Toni Cade Bambara was born in New York City to parents Walter and Helen (Henderson) Cade. She grew up in Harlem, Bedford Stuyvesant (Brooklyn), Queens and New Jersey. In 1970 she changed her name to include the name of a West African ethnic group, Bambara.
Bambara graduated from Queens College with a B.A. in Theater Arts/English Literature in 1959, then studied mime at the Ecole de Mime Etienne Decroux in Paris, France. She also became interested in dance before completing her master's degree in American studies at City College, New York (from 1962), while serving as program director of Colony Settlement House in Brooklyn. She has also worked for New York social services and as a recreation director in the psychiatric ward of Metropolitan hospital. From 1965 to 1969 she was with City College's Search for Education, Elevation, Knowledge-program. She taught English, published material and worked with SEEK's black theatre group. She was made assistant professor of English at Rutgers University's new Livingston College in 1969, was visiting professor in Afro-American Studies at Emory University and at Atlanta University (1977), where she also taught at the School of Social Work (until 1979). She was writer-in-residence at Neighborhood Arts Center (1975–79), at Stephens College at Columbia, Missouri (1976) and at Atlanta's Spelman College (1978–79). From 1986 she taught film-script writing at Louis Massiah's Scribe Video Center in Philadelphia.
Bambara participated in several community and activist organizations, and her work was influenced by the Civil Rights and Black Nationalist movements of the 1960s. She went on propaganda trips to Cuba in 1973 and to Vietnam in 1975. She moved to Atlanta, GA, with her daughter, Karma Bene, and became a founding member of the Southern Collective of African-American Writers.
Toni Cade Bambara was diagnosed with colon cancer in 1993 and died of it in 1995, at the age of 56.
apparently i started this book 2 years ago this month … what kind of reading timeline 😹 but i feel like i was meant to take my time with this! toni morrison compiled such a fantastic collection of toni cade bambara’s work here - such a fantastic first foray into her mind 🙂↕️ every piece of fiction, film criticism, interview, and personal essay captures the funny, political, communal-minded, no-nonsense energy of toni’s voice and artistic purpose. took me so long to read this bc id read one part and then have to go write or journal or get up and try and reorient my life’s purpose…. changed my life kinda!
This collection, published posthumously, of Toni Cade Bambara’s unfinished essays and short stories is at times wildly difficult to read and wildly stunning.
Of the short stories included, “The War of the Wall,” “Ice,” and “Luther on Sweet Auburn” are my favorites. In these, Bambara employs the voice and cultural outlook that make her more polished stories works of genius - “The Lesson” and “My Man Bovanne” are two such stories that come to mind.
The nonfiction, on the other hand, is all about independent filmmaking, an art form Bambara invested much of her creative energy into during the latter half of her career.
If you’re looking for advice about writing, you aren’t gonna find it here. If you’re looking for biting critiques re: literature, you aren’t gonna find them here either. What you’ll get are drafts, at every manifestation, of Bambara’s unpublished fiction and essays - drafts in all their ugliness; drafts filled with grace.
In this collection of short stories, I focused on "War of the Wall." In this story, two young African American children are walking to school when they see a woman painting on their neighborhood's wall (a wall they had also carved the name of a war soldier into). Throughout the story, they watch as she slowly finishes her mural, commenting between themselves about how this is all a waste of time, until she finishes. Her mural represents the neighborhood, and she has depicted many of it's inhabitants (including the children). The children then find out that the artist was related to the man who's name they had carved into the brick.
This story would be a great way to teach people that while you have your own internal identity, you also have an outward identity that people will judge and recognize you off of. Now this is not to say that one should change their physical appearance to make other's feel more at ease, but simply to say that someone may see your physical identity as something more beautiful than you do (and then choose to make a mural about it). Physical appearance is a big thing in middle school as that's generally when you first realize "what's wrong with yourself" once you hit puberty. So while you may find your physical identity to be something lack luster, other's may find it to be beautiful and will make beautiful things with it with you as their muse.
In this story I would probably talk about voice. The two children's voice are so present and unique and descriptive throughout the story. The voice of these kids creates a really strong and powerful story. For this story I would do "don't judge a book by it's cover" and "sometimes you can judge a book by it's cover." Both of these have to deal with making observations due to one's physical appearance and their behavior. I would prefer if students did both activities about themselves to prevent any bullying in the class.
I picked up this collection because of the Toni Morrison preface, not really sure what I was getting into beyond that.
The first section of this collection of fiction and essays focuses on Bambara's short stories. From the get go, it's abundantly clear that she's a weaver of words and perspectives. She always seems to bring out an unexpected shift that you can't quite put your finger on at first. I recognized her talent, yet I didn't connect as strongly to the stories as I wanted to. I decided to come back to her fiction section, give it another go, after I read through the essay section.
Re-reading them, they're all great examples of story-telling. And even though I still did not feel as "close" to them as I would have liked (a real possibility is that they were not written for me, which is totally valid), I would recommend them to anyone because the writing's really good. There's a sense of nostalgia in them (seems to be on personal level rather than a societal level) and even a certain degree of longing (although I don't think it's for the past exactly). The stories end on paper, but it's obvious there's a beyond for each of them; that's where we should go...
Read the stories, but stay for the essays. That is where the meat of this collection really is. Bambara does not let up on the craft of writing just because these are not fiction pieces. The essays on literature and film, politics and race, all seem to bare the brunt of Bambara's focus and energy. They have more weight than her fiction and are the space in which Bambara speaks directly into our eyes; she really wants us to listen here. I'd recommend reading these in tandem with Toni Morrison's Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination.
It took me nearly a year to read this to completion because I had borrowed it from the library then returned it thinking I would read a PDF, but after downloading a PDF only read a couple more pieces before other physical books began vying for my attention, including her short story collection "The Sea Birds are Still Alive." I was happy to let this one sit though, as I am often far too eager to speed through the work of authors whom I adore. I finished this collection today - June 8th, 2025 -after reading two stories: Going Critical and Luther on Sweet Auburn, both amazing for the same reasons all of Bambara's fiction is amazing: it's real, it's funny, it's honest, it's political, it's diverse in setting and character and plot, and more than anything, it's just extremely readable. I can't think of a misplaced sentence or word here, everything is in service of making a given story better.
Also included in this book are non-fiction essays by Bambara, some about herself (her background, her desire to write, her name), some about about film, Black films in particular. She was a very astute and articulate critic and her essays (plus the one conversation) are amazing resources for anyone and everyone. I really just cannot say enough and what I can say is but an ounce compared to the million tons of praise and love and attention Bambara deserves.
Through reading this book I was able to learn of and watch two amazing films, and I recommend watching both of them, even if you never read this book: W.E.B. DuBois a Biography in Four Voices and Daughters of the Dust (Julie Dash)
Toni Cade Bambara There are writers whose prose know no boundaries of genre; they write short stories and novels with extreme skill, and many of these writers become legends for their novels and short stories like “The Lesson,” “Raymond’s Run,” and of this group there are those whose prose is considered spiritual – not merely the plot or characters, but the words reach a reader’s spirt and bring about an internal change; they write novels that causes a soul to acknowledge the commune of ideas, novels like ‘The Salt Eaters’, and ‘Those Bones are Not my Child.’ Toni Morrison writes of such a writer. From the preface of Toni Cade Bambara’s collection of fiction, essays, and conversations, ‘Deep Sightings and Rescue Missions’ Morrison states: I don’t know if she knew the heart cling of her fiction. It’s pedagogy, its use, she knew very well, but I have often wondered if she knew how brilliant at it she was. There was no division in her mind between optimism and ruthless vigilance; between aesthetic obligation and the aesthetics of obligation. There was no doubt whatsoever that the work she did had work to do. (ix) Bambara’s writing was spiritual, political, and purposeful, and all three characteristics are abundantly present in ‘Deep Sightings and Rescue Missions.” In the short story, “Going Critical,” the plot conflicts around a clairvoyant mother preparing her seer daughter for her death, “Oh, girl, don’t you know it’s the way of things for children to bury elders” (Bambara 20). Bambara begins the tale with slight tension between the mother and the daughter; their spirits are vexed with each other. Bambara subtlety informs the reader of their extra abilities, by having them meet others with psychic powers. At the end of the story, the exceptional is expected; being clairvoyant or a seer is the norm in text opening the reader’s mind to what could be. Bambara, a writer prior to, during, and after the Black arts movement possessed strong Black Nationalist, and Black Feminist political views (editor of the anthology ‘The Black Woman’). She did not try to separate her politics from her art. Morrison, “More often she met the art/politics fake debate with a slight wave of the fingers on her beautiful hand, like the dismissal of a mindless, desperate fly who had maybe two little hours of life left” (ix – x). These opinions are apparent in the essay, “Language and the Writer.” Bambara: The normalization of the term “minority” – for people who are not white, male, bourgeois, and Christian-is a treacherous one. The term, which has an operational role in the whole politics of silence, invisibility, and amnesia, comes from the legal arena. It says that a minority or a minor may not give testimony in court without an advocate, without a go between, without a mediating someone monitoring the speaking and the tongue-which is one of the many reasons I do not use the term “minority” for anybody, most especially not myself. Here it is quite clear that she is speaking to the collective consciousness of the era, no one should think of themselves as a minority as less than a white, male, bourgeoisie, Christian. Another story that is extremely strong with purpose is “Luther on Sweet Auburn.” In this tale, Bambara introduces a one time protector and lover; a man she chose from an established type, a war counselor, a tough guy who was behind the times, and unable to keep up with the present. Through him, Bambara warns that the past belongs in the past; what was needed yesterday might not fit into today. Bambara is a writer’s writer; her craft is community based and spiritual in message, plot, and prose; ‘Deep Sightings and Rescue Missions’ is the work of a writer who has something to say.
Some essays were difficult to read. However, my favorite essays were “How She Came By Her Name,” and “The Education of a Story Teller.” There was something about these essays in particular that brought tears to my eyes. I am glad to have encountered this book, it opened my mind, heart, and gave my body a whole new way to feel.