A lyrical meditation on how Black Americans have envisioned utopia—and sought to transform their lives.
How do the disillusioned, the forgotten, and the persecuted not merely hold on to life but expand its possibilities and preserve its beauty? What, in other words, does utopia look like in black?
These questions animate Aaron Robertson’s exploration of Black Americans' efforts to remake the conditions of their lives. Writing in the tradition of Saidiya Hartman and Ta-Nehisi Coates, Robertson makes his way from his ancestral hometown of Promise Land, Tennessee, to Detroit—the city where he was born, and where one of the country’s most remarkable Black utopian experiments got its start. Founded by the brilliant preacher Albert Cleage Jr., the Shrine of the Black Madonna combined Afrocentric Christian practice with radical social projects to transform the self-conception of its members. Central to this endeavor was the Shrine’s chancel mural of a Black Virgin and child, the icon of a nationwide liberation movement that would come to be known as Black Christian Nationalism. The Shrine’s members opened bookstores and co-ops, created a self-defense force, and raised their children communally, eventually working to establish the country’s largest Black-owned farm, where attempts to create an earthly paradise for Black people continues today.
Alongside the Shrine’s story, Robertson reflects on a diverse array of Black utopian visions, from the Reconstruction era through the countercultural fervor of the 1960s and 1970s and into the present day. By doing so, Robertson showcases the enduring quest of collectives and individuals for a world beyond the constraints of systemic racism.
The Black Utopians offers a nuanced portrait of the struggle for spaces—both ideological and physical—where Black dignity, protection, and nourishment are paramount. This book is the story of a movement and of a world still in the making—one that points the way toward radical alternatives for the future.
I did not realize when I requested this from NetGalley that it had ties to my hometown. In my teens, I adored The Shrine of the Black Madonna bookstore. I regularly visited as a high school student in the early 90s. It's a beloved aspect of Black Detroit. I'm embarrassed to admit I had no idea this was attached to a church, much less the history of the church founder.
While the focus on Albert Cleage Jr. and the Black Nationalist church he founded in Detroit was my favorite aspect of this, I learned about Black towns as well. This focused on the time period post-Civil War and included the author's own family town of Promise Land, Tennessee. This history is enhanced by the author's father's perspective on Black Utopias as a former convict with memories of Promise Land.
This creates a rich tapestry of a narrative, including history & politics deftly mixed with the concept of a Black Utopia. The author himself points out that when the concept of an American Utopia is brought up, Black towns don't immediately come to mind. Yet the author makes the case that Black Towns, Cities, Villages, etc, by their very existence, were founded on utopic ideals, and the author makes a compelling case.
The history of Black towns isn't always pretty, and few of these places still exist. Those that do still exist, often they are barely functioning and mostly empty. None the less these places speak to a uniquely Black American version of the American Dream. After all, as the author themselves points out, a Utopia isn't concerned with being profitable being too busy focusing on what is possible. In that regard, all of these places succeeded.
The narrator of this audiobook is Dion Graham. Dion did great with their narration of this text. The dialogue flowed well, and the narrator managed to convey warmth and interest in this rich history.
I need to plan a visit to the church and bookstore, now that I know it's still open
Thank you to Aaron Robertson, Macmillan Audio, and NetGalley for the opportunity to listen to and review this audiobook. All opinions and viewpoints expressed in this review are my own.
First, I want to express my gratitude to NetGalley and MacMillan Audio for the opportunity to read The Black Utopians. I was really excited to dive into this, and I’m happy to say that the narration did not disappoint. It was familiar, eloquent, and perfectly paced, complementing the depth and breadth of the content. Robertson’s research is clearly extensive, and the book presents a vast range of perspectives on the long-standing question: where does Black prosperity exist without the limitations of oppression?
One of the strongest elements of this book is its emphasis on community-forward thinking. Robertson's personal connections to the themes of Black rediscovery and growth on multiple scales are evident throughout the work, giving it a grounding sense of sincerity and passion. I really appreciated how he highlighted the possibilities of Black utopianism, the idea that we can imagine a future of liberation that isn’t confined by current structures.
That being said, I did feel that the book sometimes fell short of fully engaging with the complex topics it introduced. There were moments when I thought, yes, we’re really going to dive deep now, only to see the narrative pull back and dance around the major points. It often felt like the book was covering a lot while elaborating on very little.
One aspect I found challenging was the heavy reliance on a religious standpoint. While faith is an important and legitimate lens through which to examine Black utopianism, I felt that the book missed an opportunity to explore ideas that could decenter whiteness and patriarchy from that viewpoint. For example, I would have liked to see more discussion on polytheism, pre-Christian faiths, learned patriarchy, and other alternative perspectives that might exist within the vision of Black utopia. Even if those ideas don’t align with the author’s personal beliefs, I think they would have enriched the conversation and added complexity to the idea of utopia itself.
Despite these critiques, I don’t want to take away from the important conversation that The Black Utopians brings to the table. In many ways the book is personal, reflective, and caring in its approach. One I’m sure will be well received. While I would have loved for the book to be a more elaborate examination of the topic, I understand that this might not have been its purpose. Instead, it feels like a thoughtful introduction, a kickstarter for future thought through the past and community discussions around Black empowerment and utopian ideals.
A poignant novel exploring the search for an American black utopia in the face of adversity.
The Black Utopians explores the desire to support and uplift others within the black community while battling poverty, classism, oppression, systemic racism and a seemingly insurmountable abundance of obstacles forged by white America.
As a cis person born into a a white, middle-class family, I think it’s important to acknowledge the many unearned privileges I have. A small part of that is contingent upon viewing things from the perspective of others to be more aware. That lead me to this novel which, unbeknownst to me, actually focuses upon my hometown which makes this content all the more engaging.
I strive to be an active ally and safe space for POC or anyone who’s marginalized and/or disenfranchised. This novel is eye-opening and touches upon a vast number of issues relevant to all Americans. I do wish the author hadn’t focused so much upon their personal religious doctrine as it’s ostracizing and will likely discourage some readers from checking this book out.
“The nature of myths is that they are open to elaboration by anyone who believes they can tell a better and more enduring story.”
Aaron Robertson has indeed told an enduring story in The Black Utopians, a story that interweaves family oral histories with dedicated archival research, neither one privileged over the other, but both coalescing to paint a picture of a Black utopian project, existing within a slice of history—the second half of the twentieth century—and also opening space for contemplation of the utopia of now, and of the future. It is a hopeful book. I learned a lot.
4.25 rating! The Black Utopians imagined places for Black Americans to thrive and be uplifted while battling the obstacles placed upon them by unyielding forces that try to maintain white supremacy. These places have existed or tried to during very different and important times in the country's history (Reconstruction era, Civil Rights Movement, etc.). The narration was smooth, soothing, and really made me feel compassion and hope that Black people can have that in the future. An important read!
Black communities have long used imagination as a means of survival, envisioning worlds that offer freedom, justice, and dignity even in the face of systemic oppression. this practice of imagining better worlds aligns with the core principles of utopia, making Blackness a source of radical hope and resistance. Robertson writes poignantly about this struggle largely from the historical perspective of the Black Christian Nationalism movement and minister Albert Cleage.
more than anything i appreciated Robertson prose, his personal and philosophical introspection.
p. 7: "The apparent persistence of abysmal realities for black people, and the certainty that there exists much more besides, is the soil from which black utopianism emerges. This tradition has encouraged black people to decide for ourselves how our inner resources can best be used to transform the outer world. It is an unceasing orientation toward the possibilities inherent in black social life."
Page 13. “The kibbutzim, communally owned agricultural settlements , were the most ambitious efforts before the creation of Israel to establish a Zionist Promised Land on Earth. As predecessors to the Jewish state, they were arguably the best known, most influential, and longest lasting manifestations of a small scale, collective utopian project in the 20th century.”
Page 13 “Before coming across the shrine's story, not once had I heard about a black nationalist commune in the heart of my native city. Detroit is a place whose name has become a shorthand for American dystopia, black despair and the dead end of progress. The common assumption is that utopia and the people who seek it cannot thrive there. Images of empty homes and the remnants of car factories, schools and churches draw more attention than Black Detroiters’ attempts to rewrite these stories and insist that wherever they live is perfectible, the shining centre of the world.”
“Better an errant path than the known world” Saidiya Hartman, Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments (epigraph to Part 1)
Page 30: “there is another way of looking at these history of these blacktowns, however. A black utopian perspective places the seemingly provisional, expedient, and rudimentary at the center of any vision to create a better world. It is an outlook that clings to what tends to be discarded. It assumes the ‘darky town’ that survived for generations with limited resources, which was created to provide for people who weren’t allowed to thrive elsewhere, presents some kind of blueprint for a desirable future.”
p. 279 reminder that a helicopter dropped a bomb on the MOVE house in Philadelphia, “The explosion was felt from blocks away and fires spread rapidly from the obliterated MOVE commune to adjacent homes. Hours later, some MOVE members who tried to escape the hot, smoke-filled basement were shot at by the police. More than sixty houses were destroyed by the end of the day and, eventually, the remains of eleven MOVE members were recovered. Five were children. They died from bomb blasts and gunshot wounds, smoke inhalation and the fire itself.
“Perhaps What it meant for black utopians to go “back to the land” was to separate themselves from the proven dangers of the world system in search of a more decentralized, sustainable forms of living period. The point was to disentangle oneself from the web of social forces that prevented black people from enriching their lives. Period. Simplifying one's life did not necessarily entail going off the urban grid, period. Rather, comma in a society dominated by the world system, black people were compelled to find. Create their own spaces that could exist as shrines, sacred places where they could feel protected from the system's menaces.”
There are predominantly black utopian eco-villages, Foundation for Intentional Communities (292)
pp. 266-267From Pan African Orthodox Church/Detroit Black Madonna founder Albert Cleage, in Jahi House library:
“How do the masses destroy the old world that created gods and kings? (see works on the French Revolution) Is a revolution to destroy the old world order of slavery possible? (John Brown, WEB Du Bois) If a white messiah filed, was it still possible? Citizen Toussaint, Ralph Korngold) What is the brutish world order that the modern masses want to overturn (The Cultural Contradictions of Capitalism, Daniel Bell) What does the new world look like in its most desirable from (Pan-Africanism or Communism? George Padmore) How are the spiritual masses who embrace Pan-Africanism to think about a utopian like Karl Marx (Communism and Christianism, Bishop William Montgomery Brown) What is a church that models itself according to the principles of biblical communism? (The Underground Church, ed. Malcolm Boyd) Who leads the underground church (Small Groups: Some Sociological Perspectives, Clovis R Shepherd) If this alternative church is indeed worth saving, what must be done to ensure the health of its members? (Reality Therapy: A New Approach to Psychiatry, William Glasser; Meditation . .. How does one ensure that the black child is protected? (Women in the Kibbutz, Lionel Tiger and Joseph Shepherd) And if women are not content merely to produce the guarantors of the future? (When God was a Woman, Merlin Stone) Wouldn't declaring the blackness of God undo th world of the old kings, showing that we have misunderstood the foundations of all reality? (The consciousness of the Atom, Alice Bailey) Can we decide where to begin the world anew? In the lowest places? In the South Carolinian cradle of the Confederacy? In Detroit Murder City” (The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs)
p. 304: “Utopia is not a fiction set apart form history, but a method of shaping it. As joyful as it has been for me to speak with black people whose lives attest to this, I have also felt a chronic nausea, swerving between visions of an equitable future for all and their opposites - utopian dreams an exclusionary future, in which the bodies, souls, and histories of non-whites are not only neglected but eradicated. There are other kinds of utopians who would kill my grandmother at prayer hour if they could. A four-hour-drive from Beulah Land, in Charleston, South Carolina, the terrorist Dylann Roof, radicalized by his exposure to white nationalists online, murdered nine black churchgoers during Bible study at Mother Emmanuel AME in 2015 . . . his idea of a better world was one emptied of blacks, whom he viewed as an invasive species that might be tamed in a race war. he saw himself as the necessary catalyst for a new, purifying phase of history. . . . . We are now at a crossroads. We are witnessing a clash of utopian perspectives on what the United States ought to be. Like Albert Cleage’s Black Christian Nationalists, white Christian nationalists hope for a world that will soon be wholly transformed. Many believe that they are God’s chosen people, and they are mainly concerned with protecting the integrity of their spiritual nation. They fabricate grand narratives of a romantic past for their race, and they interpret social upheavals as preludes to an apocalypse that will reorganize the distribution of social, political, and economic power. But the liberation theology that the Black Christian Nationalists embodied is, in many ways, the antithesis of white Christian nationalism. White Christian nationalists understand the dispossession and diminishment of blacks - and many others - as a task prescribed by God, not a notion anathema to Him. they would limit our collective sense of who will thrive in the future, whereas those who have been touched by Cleage’s message of black dignity wish to expand what it means to create a beloved community today.” (306).
This book was a thought-provoking, deeply layered read that stayed with me long after I closed the final page.
Aaron Robertson explores the Black utopian tradition through history, literature, and cultural theory—blending memoir, research, and political analysis in a way that’s both intellectually rich and highly readable. From Du Bois’s speculative fiction to the cosmic visions of Sun Ra, from the works of Samuel R. Delany and Octavia Butler to the critiques of George Schuyler and Richard Wright—Robertson brings all of these voices together in conversation about liberation, imagination, and the possibility of a more just world.
What stood out most to me was how he challenges the idea that utopian thinking is naïve or dangerous. Instead, he presents it as necessary—an invitation to push beyond the status quo and envision what hasn’t yet been built. Even flawed utopias, he argues, can generate new paths toward justice.
This is a must-read for anyone interested in Black intellectual history, political theory, or visionary futures. It’s both a celebration and a challenge—asking us not just to study utopian thought, but to engage with it and imagine better possibilities for ourselves.
I went into this book excited to learn about Black utopias - I read Happy Land earlier this year, a fictional account of a Black utopian community and thought this would be a nice companion to learn more in general about Black utopian communities. Plus, utopian communities in general intrigue me, mostly because it's a microcosm of society and it typically ends in drama.
The title of this book suggests it is about Black utopian communities in general. However, the synopsis and the introduction do not hide the ball about what this book was actually about: Albert Cleage Jr. and the Shrine of the Black Madonna. But I still thought this would be a more general book about different Black utopian communities - or at least more of a deep-dive into Beulah Land, which was the farm run by Cleage's church (which I think was also set up as a utopian community, but honestly I still don't know, as the book never got there before I gave up) and Promise Land, a utopian community where the author's paternal grandfather was born and his father was raised.
I got to 45% and realized that this is not a deep dive into black utopian communities. It is more about Cleage, the civil rights movement in Detroit, Black Christian Nationalism, and artist Glanton Dowdell, who painted the Black Madonna. There are also letters from Robertson's incarcerated father reflecting on his life, which I suppose will be tied-in better later-on.
It's more of an abstract search for utopia/black community (in Detroit) than it is about Black utopian communities (self-sufficient, liberated spaces). Maybe the problem is I have a specific idea in my mind of what a "utopian community" is - I think more Seneca Village and similar towns/communities than a church in Detroit. On the other hand, I read nearly half this book, so I would hope I would have a better sense of what a Black utopian community is than I apparently do.
I didn't give up because the subject matter wasn't what I was looking for. I gave up because it was overall dense and hard to follow. For instance, it would start a chapter describing the biography of a new person never discussed before, going for several pages before revealing how this person is related to the main topic (i.e., talking about the life of the woman who was the model for the Black Madonna before hinting that she was Dowdell's muse). Other nonfiction books do this as well, and I don't appreciate it in those books either. I don't want to be treated like a complete idiot by books, but I appreciate some hand-holding and guidance. This book is more in the vein of Hanif Abdurraqib (using a subject matter as a jumping off point for reflections and philosophy), whose writing is hit-or-miss for me. This isn't what I was looking for, but I'm glad it has resonated with others.
What first struck me about this book was its cover. I instantly recognized Barkley L. Hendricks, “Lawdy Mama” (1969), and decided to read this book based purely on seeing the work of one of my favorite portraitists of all time. Fortunately, I was pleasantly surprised by the portrait that Aaron Robertson painted of Albert Cleage Jr., a preacher-intellectual whose black Christian nationalist vision formed a church called “the Shrine” that sought to find a little bit of heaven on earth.
Robertson depicts a man who constantly tried to expand the imaginations of his black congregants to want more than just a salve or their condition, but an entirely New World and system.
In Black nationalist movements, it can be easy to get caught up with the idea of “feasibility” and “practicality.” The Utopians were not interested in what’s probable, but what is possible. The idea of “utopia” is not something you obtain. It’s something you rehearse. As such the "Promise Land" was both a place in Tennessee, but also a thought experiment in black self-rule.
The breadth and scope of the work was pleasant to read. Robertson artfully traced the dreams, hopes, and aspirations of generations of black Christians and utopians posing a very simple yet beautiful question– “Who were the dreamers who always wanted more than what they had?” From the reconstruction era to current agricultural co-ops, I saw the very real impact of how the black utopian vision sought to have a physical impact as well as a spiritual one.
I love the way Robertson interweaves his relationship with his father. It’s a redemptive arch that mirrors the story quite well. His father’s letters interspersed showed a man transformed by the teachings of people just like Cleage.
Finally, the prose was just stunning. Without having a subject matter interest in the book, I believe a reader could enjoy this book based simply on the prose alone. It’s contemplative, introspective, and quite philosophical. It’s evidence of an author who has had to sit with many of the ideas professed by the people he’s writing about. This book will leave me thinking about what freedom means in our world today for quite a while.
While I learned a lot reading this book, I do not think it was organized and structured as well as it could have been. Robertson introduces the topic with his personal history, including his family history with a Black town, Promise Land, in a southern state - Tennessee, I think but do not remember specifically - as well as his complicated relationship with his father, a man who spent a decade in prison for a violent crime (again, I do not remember the specific crime and do not want to misspeak). Letters from his father also alternate with the historical text describing men and institutions who attempted to carve out a place in a country that for centuries has hated them. This bouncing between different types of text (the letters and the historical narrative) forms my main issue with the text. It's nearly impossible to determine whether this book is a memoir or if it is historical nonfiction, especially since the more personal portions have little to no connection with most of the historical portion. By the end of the narrative, the threads nearly come together and I understand Robertson's overall goal with this narrative. However, he did not quite bring everything together. Thus, this is a fascinating aspect of history with stories that need to be told, I just wish it had been done better.
This book was very inspiring and educational. The narrator did an amazing job bringing a sense of comfort throughout the story. The book tells a unique and reflective perspective on how the black community sought to create utopia. Aaron Robertson reflects his relationship with his father during the different eras which helps mirror his mindset with some of the major events of that time. I love historical fiction and while the book was extremely knowledgeable I did feel like it was a lot of information at time with going through so many eras . I wanted to be more present in the story for certain parts like the perspective of different beliefs or specific lifestyles for black utopians. Nevertheless the is a great conversation starter and educational guide on the activist and visionary thinker in black community fighting against oppression.
I found Pearl Cleage's book, Things I Should Have Told My Daughter, in a pile of books left out for trash pickup maybe five or six years ago. I greatly enjoyed it, and when I added The Black Utopians to my reading list, I didn't know Albert Cleage was her father. I enjoyed this story of an untold piece of Black history filled with hope, community, and radical thinking. "The true radicalism of his movement, the Black Madonna, and the Black Messiah was their insistence that the classical myths undergirding our nation's history are just that - tales that, though powerful, are not settled. The nature of myths is that they are open to elaboration by anyone who believes they can tell a better and more enduring story."
I just finished it, and I still don’t know what this book was supposed to be. I don’t think the marketing department knew, and I honestly don’t know if Aaron Robertson himself knew. I could sense that he’d done lots of solid research, but it wasn’t presented compellingly or even clearly. Was this an overview of the Black utopian movement? No it was too narrow. Was it a memoir of a family and their city and land? No, too broad. The thing it felt closest to was a biography of Albert Cleage Jr. But not a good one. This read like it needed to be totally restructured and then put through three more rounds of edits. I’m sad, I wanted to love it. I’d recommend Our Secret Society by Tanisha C. Ford instead!!
Thank you to NetGalley and MacMillan Audio for access to the audiobook of The Black Utopians. The narrator, Dorian Grant, did a fantastic job. Speaking in a way that the book sounded like a poem. The physical copy might be easier to help keep track of where in the book you are as there are multiple stories that converge from past to present.
Histories I hadn't heard or known about were interesting, at times sad, to discover. I wouldn't have known to find out more about Albert Cleage and the Promise Land. The letters interspersed throughout the book were also a beautiful addition.
The book isn't just about histories but people's stories.
Rounded up from a 4.5. This was a more personal work than I initially expected it to be, with the letters written from prison by the author's father interspersed throughout, something i really appreciated. While I learned a lot, I felt like I was left wanting more depth as the book stretched itself a little thin to cover so much. I rarely say this, but I think it could have benefited from being longer. Alternatively, a slightly more refined focus might have allowed certain aspects to be explored more fully, at the expense of some breadth. Still a good read, about a subject I didn't much about beforehand!
I was intrigued by the premise of this title, but I was challenged to follow the continuity within the structure of the narrative. I wasn't sure if the issue is with the writing, or with my personal reading style, so I persisted until I finished it.
There is some interesting material here, much of which I knew nothing about. But there's also more than one book within this book, and maybe that combination is why I stumbled.
In any case, the perseverance necessary to achieve utopia underscores the gaps in America that lead to that search, and the slow crawl towards a more inclusive and civil society continues to be a struggle.
I am not God, but what I am saying is that I see God in us. God is in me. God who creates also inhabits, especially if invited to reside. It is peculiar that men, women, and children were enslaved, mistreated, and tortured to come and work for free in the United States of America, but the peculiar can be unraveled.
I had known the smells of churches as a child-sweet and nauseating potpourri, colognes and perfumes, and Wednesday night Bible study chalkboards. Some of my past churches had names that sounded like flowers: Bethany, Elim, Merriman. A thousand mothers and fathers raised me.
I didn't realize when I borrowed this from the library just how centric Black Christian nationalism was to the entire story. So, there's a lot of religion in this book because it's largely centered around a church. I'm not a religious person at all but I still really liked this. The writing is excellent, I loved how he weaved his father's letters to him throughout the book. I'd read a whole separate book just about the author's life honestly. A really interesting book.
Interesting story but the book doesn’t really have a force driving it forward stuff just kind of happens throughout. The timeline jumps and feels kind of all over the place, and there’s like 4 stories in 1 being told that don’t always overlap and are kind of just being told. Confusing but thought-provoking.
There is a lot of really good information, rich history here. There is also quite a lot about religion, and that is to be expected regarding this subject matter, but that aspect of the research was not presented as objectively as one might anticipate. Still, a very informative, well researched work, especially with particular interest in Detroit or Michigan history.
The Black Utopians: Searching for Paradise and the Promised Land in America (Hardcover) by Aaron Robertson The history of the people and social network in the area of three islands of black culture after the American Civil war. The story shows how they maintained their culture, and developed environment.
This book is compared to Ta-nehsi Coates which I read his work in book clubs and enjoyed it. one of his titles I am purchasing for work library book club. However, this title, I have been reading here and there, after 25% I may pass on this one. This was a recommended book at SAC public library. Sometimes, I will grab a copy to read that they recommend.
Sorry at this time I couldn't finish and didn't keep my interest.
I enjoy reading Black history that you will not find in a textbook. One of the questions I often ponder is whether there will ever be a Black utopia. I am not certain that this book gave me hope, but it made me realize that I was not the only one who has asked the question. Certainly worth the read
Not sure the title matched the content inside. I enjoyed some parts, especially those focused on artist Glamton Dowdell and the authors father’s letters — but the rest read like a bio of a religious movement, interrupted by the authors own memories and then interrupted again by the letters.
I kept reading to see if the end would tie it all together and unfortunately, it didn’t.
Wow. I learned so much from this book about people, places, and movements that I had never heard of before, even though I’ve lived in Michigan most of my life. This well-researched book presents the history of Black Christian Nationalism, along with interesting historical events and the key players in the movement. I’m so glad that I read it. I learned so much.
A story I didn’t know about a church and a great leader in Detroit. Also a story about loving and needing a home place and a parent. Not really a story about black utopians with an s. Bounced around a lot but just when he started to lose me he’d introduce something very interesting. Not sure I’d recommend it but happy I read it.
incredibly interesting history of the predecessor to Black Liberation Theology and the world the grew from Marcus Garvey and inspired James Cone. Robertson wrote this history from a personal perspective, with his father's letters from prison being a guide in this memoir/history. This was a beautifully told story. I'm glad I finally read this book.
A boom about so much more than its subject matter. And simultaneously a deeply thorough exploration of said subject matter. And also intensely personal. There is a generosity here, and compassion, and grace for the hurts.