The Weary Blues

by Langston Hughes, Carl van Vechten (Introduction)

The Weary Blues is Langston Hughes's first published collection of poems, immediately celebrated as a tour de force upon its release. Over ninety years after its publication, it remains a critically acclaimed literary work and still evokes a fresh, contemporary feeling and offers a powerful reflection of the Black experience. From the title poem "The Weary Blues," echoing the sounds of the blues, to "Dream Variation," ringing with joyfulness, to the "Epilogue" that mimics Walt Whitman in its opening line, "I, too, sing America," Hughes writes clearly and colorfully, and his words remain prophetic and relevant today.

Genres: Poetry, Classics, African American, Race, Fiction, Music, Literature

96 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1925

About the author

Through poetry, prose, and drama, American writer James Langston Hughes made important contributions to the Harlem renaissance; his best-known works include Weary Blues (1926) and The Ways of White Folks (1934).

People best know this social activist, novelist, playwright, and columnist James Mercer Langston Hughes, one of the earliest innovators of the then-new literary art form jazz poetry, for his famous written work about the period, when "Harlem was in vogue."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Langsto...

Reviews

[Candi · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m not going to lie. Writing a review about a book of poetry is an intimidating task for me. I feel I should compose something lyrical, something beautiful, to show you just how much I understand and admire these lines. I want it to be something expressive of the soulful rhythm of Langston Hughes’s verse. But that’s not going to happen! Damn that left brain! Instead I’ll briefly tell you why I loved The Weary Blues and share a couple of my favorites.

A couple of years ago, I found an old beat up copy of one of Hughes’s collections of selected poems and was captivated. I immediately added this early collection to my wishlist. In case you are not already familiar, Langston Hughes was born in 1902 in Joplin, Missouri, and was one of the leading voices of the Harlem Renaissance. The Foreword by Kevin Young in my copy explains his poetry better than I:

"Hughes was in fact the first to write poetry in the blues form. He was the first to realize the blues are plural – to see in their complicated irony and earthy tone the potential to present a folk feeling both tragic and comic, one uniquely African American, which is to say, American. The blues made romance modern; modernism borrowed from the blues a new way of saying what it saw: Hughes made the blues his own, and ours too."

Now there’s another thing I adore – music. Not as a performer anymore, but as an avid listener. In fact, reading this poetry is reminiscent of sitting and listening to one of my favorite genres – jazz. I suppose that’s why this collection particularly caught my attention. Here’s one I love – so reminiscent of sitting in a jazz club and soaking in the tuneful melody and syncopated rhythm:

Lenox Avenue Midnight

The rhythm of life
Is a jazz rhythm,
Honey.
The gods are laughing at us.

The broken heart of love,
The weary, weary heart of pain,-
Overtones,
Undertones,
To the rumble of street cars,
To the swish of rain.

Lenox Avenue,
Honey.
Midnight,
And the gods are laughing at us.

Hughes also writes of the black experience in America, the pain and struggle, and the hope:

Epilogue

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll sit at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed, -

I, too, am America.

This poetry is very accessible, so if you have any inclination to discover one of your favorites, then this small collection would be the perfect place to start. It's a joy to read!

[Julie G · Rating 5 out of 5]

In 1926 a twenty-four year old man of color wandered in to a white man's world and declared here are my words.

His name was Langston Hughes.

His first publication, The Weary Blues, was nothing less than badass, a compilation of poems that nodded respectfully both to Walt Whitman and the incomparable Carl Sandburg and. . . oh yeah. . . started off a little something called the Harlem Renaissance, too.

Mr. Hughes wasn't sure about a God or an afterlife, but he did know that he was a human being with a body and a mind, and he was tired of his invisibility. So, he showed up at the door with a stack of his poems and refused the option of rejection.

And isn't that what so much of poetry is, for those of us who write it? A rejection of rejection? A declaration of our independence, whether our rejection was romantic, social, cultural or racial. Poetry is the assertion of I AM. Whether you ignore me or not: I AM.

This collection starts off with a powerful I AM. And Hughes's declaration here is. . . however you feel about the negro, he existed before you, he will exist after you, and even when you pretend you can't see him crossing the street, he still remains:

Proem (prologue + poem):

I am a Negro:
      Black as the night is black,
      Black like the depths of my Africa.
I’ve been a slave:
      Caesar told me to keep his door-steps clean.
      I brushed the boots of Washington.
I’ve been a worker:
      Under my hand the pyramids arose.
      I made mortar for the Woolworth Building.
I’ve been a singer:
      All the way from Africa to Georgia
      I carried my sorrow songs.
      I made ragtime.
I’ve been a victim:
      The Belgians cut off my hands in the Congo.
      They lynch me now in Texas.
I am a Negro:
      Black as the night is black,
      Black like the depths of my Africa.

It is a powerful introduction to the powerful pieces that follow.

What has always impressed me about Mr. Hughes's poetry: his internal rhyme and outward rhythm. (His poems are always a joy to read aloud).
His optimism, despite adversity.

What I learned anew from this particular collection: what an early feminist he was. So ahead of his time, in grasping that as challenging as it was to be a man of color, it was still harder to be a woman.

This heart-breaking short poem is just one of many that represent a disgust of the misuse and disrespect of women:

Young Prostitute

Her dark brown face
Is like a withered flower
On a broken stem.
Those kind come cheap in Harlem
So they say.

Mr. Hughes was the very first poet I ever “met,” and my handwritten copy of Dreams has traveled with me to every home I've lived in since the third grade.

Any man who can hang on to his dreams in a world filled with “no” and write an entire book of poems that are a rejection of rejection will always find a reader in me.

[Brina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Each February I put together a lineup of books to celebrate African American History Month (U.S.). As my reading year progresses, I discover a varied tapestry of choices, and I have found that my “month” starts earlier and earlier each year. It is mid January, King Day observed is this coming Monday, so I thought I’d kick off the observance with a nearly century old poetry collection by Langston Hughes. I was first exposed to Hughes in middle school when in sixth grade we read his “Mother to Son” and were asked to write our own version of his masterpiece. Even to an eleven-year-old mind, this poem stood out. With Weary Blues approaching its centennial next year, I thought it was an appropriate time to rediscover Hughes’ work.

Langston Hughes is a symbol of the Harlem Renaissance. He moved to Harlem in the early 1920s after being born in Joplin, Missouri and traveling to Mexico with his father and serving as a hand on a steamer traveling the world. This myriad of life experiences shaped Hughes’ work, yet none more so than when he arrived in Harlem at the dawn of the great migration and the jazz age and was largely influenced by the culture of the neighborhood. In Harlem, Hughes learned in jazz clubs and on the streets but especially from leader W.E.B. DuBois, who encouraged African Americans to uplift their race. While the Harlem Renaissance came a little late for DuBois’ generation, Hughes flourished in Harlem and turned to artistic expression in writing for the rest of his life. While he also wrote fiction, essays, and memoirs, his poetry stood apart as Hughes’ preferred genre, his words being jazz in motion and a whirlwind of emotion.

The poems comprised in Weary Blues speak of the African American experience both positive and negative. Hughes writes of culture flourishing in northern locations like Harlem but also of the segregation that still existed in the south, locations like Joplin, Missouri which he fled from. While traveling in Mexico and at sea, Hughes realized that black, brown, yellow, and red peoples were not inhibited by race; their cultures were not stifled by the prejudice that existed in the American south at the time. Hughes wrote about Mexico, Dakar, and Egypt as happily as the jazz at Harlem clubs, although it is apparent that the latter was the biggest influence of this collection. Once situated in Harlem, Hughes flourished, allowing Americans of all shades to read his jazz in motion captured on paper.

Because Hughes is an American treasure, analyzing his work would not do justice to his writing. I will end with mother to son, which I still enjoy all these years later. It is perhaps about a mother telling her son to work hard because his generation can enjoy the American Dream in ways that her own could not. Or maybe it is about the love of a mother for her child, her sacrificing so much so that he could have a better life. While many prefer Dream Deferred as it is the classic poem from this collection, I have always favored Mother to Son because it shows a mother determined to give her son a better life than the one she has lead cleaning homes, a true example of one’s personal American dream.

Mother to Son

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor-
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now-
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t be no crystal stair.

With work speaking of the wide range of the African American experience, Langston Hughes is always a joy to read, and a deserving way to kick off African American History month albeit early. With his large body of life work, I hope to revisit Hughes later this year as he is truly an American treasure.

5 stars

[Jenna ❤ ❀ ❤ · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read Selected Poems of Langston Hughes for my classic-of-the-month and loved it so much I had to read this book of his too. Brilliant! Mr. Hughes is a man I would have loved to have known; he was intelligent and creative, strong and yet vulnerable, kind and compassionate. His poems reach into your soul.  He writes mainly of the Black experience and though as a white person I cannot relate personally to all he writes of, his words nevertheless evoke so much emotion, stimulate many thoughts.  His poems are deep, philosophical, lyrical, witty, hopeful, and at times fed up with all the bullshit. His words are a call to Black people to fight for their rights and remain optimistic, and an appeal to white people to be decent human beings who see and treat people of colour as equals. Sadly, we aren't all that much further along than we were in Mr. Hughes' days; sadly, ashamedly, we still have much farther to go. 

Though many of his poems are painful, they leave you feeling hopeful. I loved this book but loved the Selected Poems more because they show how Langston Hughes' writing matured over time. This, The Weary Blues is his first collection of poetry and the Selected Poems are taken from throughout his career. If you only read one of his books (and you should!), I would recommend the Selected Poems but this is certainly a worthwhile read as well. I leave you with one of my favourite poems of Langston Hughes, the one he concludes this volume with and the one which, when I came across it in another book, made me add Mr. Hughes to my TBR list:

"I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
 I'll sit at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me, 
'Eat in the kitchen,'
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed,--

I, too, am America."


(2nd classic-of-the-month for February 2020)

[Kathleen · Rating 5 out of 5]

How is it that I’ve lived these many years without reading Langston Hughes? I picked this up on his birthday, February 1.

My copy includes an introduction written in 1925 by Carl van vechten, who marvels at the experiences Hughes had already accumulated in his then young (24 years) life. It is amazing to contemplate. He’d lived all over the Midwest, spent time in Mexico, gone to work as a sailor and voyaged around Europe and Africa, and landed in New York as a working poet. I repeat, 24 years old.

These poems reflect his worldliness, but also his youth, with lots of boys and girls and music and dancing, along with plenty of thoughtful wonderings.

I loved “As I Grew Older”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C63ZL...

And this one I took very personally:
https://poets.org/poem/after-many-spr...

My favorite is so short, yet technically brilliant and it captures something long elusive to me about the ocean. Insight from all that time as a sailor, I suppose, mixed with his uncanny ability to express it.

“Long Trip”
The sea is a wilderness of waves
A desert of water.
We dip and dive,
Rise and roll,
Hide and are hidden
On the sea.
Day, night
Night, day
The sea is a desert of waves,
A wilderness of water.

I ended up loving Hughes’ style--beautiful, artful work. The best way I can express it is pain carefully masked behind a kind of revelry.

And yet he plays upon his flute a wild free tune
As if Fate had not bled him with her knife!
From “Beggar Boy”

I’ll be reading more soon.

[robin friedman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Langston Hughes And The Weary Blues

Cheryl A. Wall's recent book "The Harlem Renaissance: A Very Short Introduction" (2016) inspired me to revisit the poetry of Langston Hughes. I had read collections of Hughes' poems some time ago but was largely familiar with him through his under-appreciated autobiographical novel, "Not Without Laughter". As luck would have it I found this new edition of Hughes' "The Weary Blues" in the public library. The volume is even shorter that Wall's book that I read in the "Very Short Introductions" series.

"The Weary Blues" (1926) was Hughes' (1902 -- 1967) first published book of poetry and is the work of a young man of twenty-three. Carl Van Vechten's introduction to the volume gives a sense of Hughes' early life: he had been academically successful, and had wandered in the states before shipping off to sea and ultimately spending time in Europe. He already had many life experiences which he reflected in his poetry. Hughes worked briefly in Washington, D.C. as a busboy before moving to Harlem where he lived for most of his life. There is a Washington D.C. restaurant and bookstore known as "Busboys and Poets" named after Hughes which I frequent. It is difficult not to think of Hughes while visiting the establishment.

The book is beautiful, lucid, musical and highly personal collection which captures the spirit of the Harlem Renaissance between the two world wars. Hughes writes with feeling and a sense of pride in himself and in African Americans for their past and their potential. The famous title poem for the volume sings of an aging black blues singer playing the piano "coming from a black man's soul" in a Harlem club. Blues rhythm and blues feeling often are used in these poems and in Hughes' later work..

"I got the Weary Blues
And I can't be satisfied
Got the Weary Blues
And can't be satisfied--
I ain't happy no mo'
And I wish that I had died". .

Some of the poems address Hughes' own experience and aspirations and the joy and promise of life. The fear of death and of the passing of joy and sexuality are never far away. The collection includes love poems such as "When Sue Wears Red." The section of the book titled "Water-Front Streets" describes some of his experiences at sea. Many of the poems describe people in Harlem, including jazz musicians in clubs and on the street,, beggars, lonely women, rakes, dancers, and prostitutes. Hughes shows the ability to capture a person or situation in a few words, as in the poem, "Young Prostitute":

"Her dark brown face
Is like a withered flower
On a broken stem.
These kind come cheap in Harlem
So they say.

The poems reflecting upon the black experience are among the most famous in "Weary Blues". They include "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" which Hughes wrote at the age of 19 and read when he met W.E.B. Bubois. The poem "Mother to Son" speaks of fortitude and the need to carry on as the aging mother exhorts her son to keep trying in life and reminds him "And life for me ain't been no crystal stair." In the final poem of the collection, the "Epilogue" Hughes writes of African Americans that "I ,too, sing America" as the speaker seeks better days, freedom, and the end of race prejudice. The poems in the book speak of African American pride and experience but they are universal in scope as well.

It was valuable to read this short collection of Hughes' first published poetry rather than an anthology. It allowed me to focus on works in the way they were first presented rather than reading them quickly in a larger anthology. The small volume with Van Vechten's introduction and the original cover art by Miguel Covarrurubias of the bluesman at the piano made me feel that I was somehow holding the volume in my hands in a Harlem café of the mid 1920s.

Robin Friedman

[Το Άθχημο γατί του θενιόρ Γκουαναμίρου · Rating 5 out of 5]

Κουρασμένα μπλουζ. Πρόκειται για μια ποιητική συλλογή του Langston Hughes (1901– 1967) η οποία εκδόθηκε στα 1926. Με λύπη διαπίστωσα πως δεν υπάρχει κάποια αυτοτελής έκδοση των έργων του μεταφρασμένη στα ελληνικά. Ελάχιστα ποιήματά του σε κάποιες -κυρίως εξαντλημένες - ανθολογίες και τίποτα στην ΕΒΕ. Υπάρχουν ορισμένοι που διαδικτυακά έχουν ανεβάσει κάποιες ελληνικές μεταφράσεις ποιημάτων του στις σελίδες τους, κάποια βιογραφικά σημειώματα σχετικά με τη ζωή του, τη βιβλιογραφία και τη δράση του, αλλά κι αυτά είναι σκόρπια και λιγοστά. Αγνοούσα την ύπαρξή του και τον ανακάλυψα από καθαρή τύχη - το έχω αναφέρει κι αλλού, όταν βαριέμαι παίζω ένα παιχνίδι, βάζω στη μηχανή αναζήτησης του google books τυχαίες λέξεις και μετά κοιτάζω τους τίτλους που μου εμφανίζει. Αυτή τη φορά, για καλή μου τύχη, έψαξα χρώματα.

Αυτά τα μπλε (blues), σημαίνουν αυτό που εμείς στα ελληνικά θα το χαρακτηρίζαμε ως μαύρο, το χρώμα του πένθους και της θλίψης. Από αυτό το χρώμα και από αυτήν τη ψυχική διάθεση, προέκυψε ένα είδος μουσικής, το οποίο εξέφραζε τα συναισθήματα των Αφρικανών σκλάβων οι οποίοι εργάζονταν κάτω από άθλιες συνθήκες στις φυτείες του Αμερικανικού Νότου.

Από όσο καταλαβαίνω, οι απόγονοι αυτών των σκλάβων, οι οποίοι πλέον σήμερα χαρακτηρίζονται ως Αφροαμερικάνοι, άνθρωποι του χρώματος (person of color, POC) ή απλώς μαύροι, καίτοι είναι πολίτες με πλήρη δικαιώματα στις ΗΠΑ, θεωρούνται από μία μερίδα συμπατριωτών τους ως κατώτεροι, εξαιτίας του χρώματος της επιδερμίδας τους, και αυτό έχει ως συνέπεια την περιθωριοποίηση ή γκετοποίησή τους, εκδηλώσεις και πράξεις βίας - ακόμα και δολοφονίες - εναντίον τους και μια εν γένει φοβική αντιμετώπιση και προκατάληψη. Υπάρχει δηλαδή μια νοοτροπία ή αντίληψη η οποία ορίζει την ανωτερότητα ή την κατωτερότητα ενός ανθρώπινου όντος με κριτήριο το πόσο ανοιχτή (λευκή) ή σκούρα (μαύρη) είναι η επιδερμίδα του.

Το συμπέρασμά μου είναι πως στις ΗΠΑ δεν υπήρξε ποτέ ουσιαστική (εννοώ ένα μακροπρόθεσμο, ευέλικτο και βιώσιμο πλάνο που να τηρείται από όλες τις πολιτικές παρατάξεις) διάθεση επίλυσης των σοβαρών προβλημάτων που προκύπτουν σε όλες τις πολυπολιτισμικές κοινωνίες και ακριβώς αυτό, σε συνδυασμό με την Ιδιωτική Ανώτατη Παιδεία (ακριβά δίδακτρα στα Πανεπιστήμια) και την περιορισμένη Κοινωνική Πρόνοια (πρόσβαση σε ιατροφαρμακευτική περίθαλψη και λοιπά οικονομικά βοηθήματα) διαιωνίζει τις ανισότητες και ενισχύει τις διαχωριστικές γραμμές ανάμεσα σε πολίτες Α' και Β' κατηγορίας.

Αυτό έχει ως αντίκτυπο στον τρόπο που οι πολίτες αυτής της χώρας αυτοπροσδιορίζονται, για παράδειγμα όσοι ανήκουν στους Λευκούς βιώνουν ένα φάσμα συναισθημάτων που μπορεί να προκύπτουν είτε από την λεγόμενη λευκή υπεροχή (ρατσιστικές συμπεριφορές ή άρνηση παραδοχής του προβλήματος) είτε από την ενοχή επειδή υπάγονται στην κατηγορία των προνομιούχων και όσοι ανήκουν στους Μαύρους μπορεί να βιώνουν εσωτερικευμένο μίσος ή να αντιδρούν απέναντι στη συστημική βία εκδηλώνοντας με τη σειρά τους αντικοινωνική ή παραβατική συμπεριφορά. Υπάρχουν διακυμάνσεις στην ένταση με την οποία εκδηλώνονται και εκφράζονται αυτές οι ανισότητες και σε περιόδους πόλωσης... the shit hits the fan.

Πίσω στα 1926, μια γειτονιά της Νέας Υόρκης η οποία ονομάζεται Harlem, έγινε το κέντρο ενός πνευματικού και καλλιτεχνικού κινήματος γνωστού ως Harlem Renaissance (Αναγέννηση του Χάρλεμ). Οι Αφροαμερικάνοι προσπαθούν να βρουν τη φωνή τους, να ορίσουν μια ταυτότητα για τους εαυτούς τους και να διεκδικήσουν μια θέση μέσα στην κοινωνία, κάπου όπου να μπορούν να ζήσουν ισότιμα, με ασφάλεια και αξιοπρέπεια. Τα πράγματα είναι πολύ δύσκολα γι' αυτούς. Είναι άνθρωποι που αναζητούν τις ρίζες τους πίσω στην Αφρικανική Ήπειρο, προσπαθούν να ξεπεράσουν το τραύμα της δουλείας και συνεχίζουν να υπόκεινται σε φυλετικό διαχωρισμό.

Η συγκεκριμένη ποιητική συλλογή χωρίζεται σε επτά μέρη:

1. Weary Blues - Κουρασμένα μπλουζ.
2. Dream Variations - Ονειρικές παραλλαγές.
3. The Negro Speaks of Rivers - Ο Νέγρος μιλάει για τους ποταμούς.
4. Black Pierrot - Μαύρος Πιερότος.
5. Water-Front Streets - Παραθαλάσσιοι δρόμοι.
6. Shadows in the Sun - Σκιές στον ήλιο.
7. Our Land - Η πατρίδα μας.

Όλα τα ποιήματα χαρακτηρίζονται από μια αιχμηρή απλότητα. Οι γηγενείς Αμερικάνοι και οι Αφροαμερικάνοι υποχρεώθηκαν να ζήσουν εξόριστοι μακριά από τις πατρίδες τους αλλά οι δυστυχίες τους δεν σταματούν εκεί. Ο πολιτισμός των Λευκών παρομοιάζεται με ένα τσίρκο που φυλακίζει αυτούς τους ανθρώπους μέσα σε κλουβιά.

Lament for Dark Peoples
I was a red man one time,
But the white men came.
I was a black man, too,
But the white men came.

They drove me out of the forest.
They took me away from the jungles.
I lost my trees.
I lost my silver moons.

Now they've caged me
In the circus of civilization.
Now I herd with the many —
Caged in the circus of civilization

Ο λόγος του Hughes είναι οξύς και καταγγελτικός αλλά επιλέγει να μην καταλήξει σε κήρυγμα μίσους, αυτό που διεκδικεί είναι να πρυτανεύσει η κοινή λογική, η ομορφιά των ανθρώπων πάνω και πέρα από το χρώμα του δέρματός τους:

The White Ones
I do not hate you,
For your faces are beautiful, too.
I do not hate you,
Your faces are whirling lights of loveliness and splendor, too.
Yet why do you torture me,
O, white strong ones,
Why do you torture me?

Αναφέρεται επίσης στα όρια ανάμεσα σε αυτό που ορίζεται ως λευκό και ως μαύρο. Πόσο ανοιχτή πρέπει να είναι η επιδερμίδα ενός ανθρώπου για να θεωρηθεί λευκός και πόσο σκούρα για οριστεί ως μαύρος; Τι συμβαίνει με όλες τις ενδιάμεσες αποχρώσεις και που ανήκει ένα παιδί που γεννήθηκε από λευκό πατέρα και μαύρη μητέρα;

Cross
My old man’s a white old man
And my old mother’s black.
If ever I cursed my white old man
I take my curses back.

If ever I cursed my black old mother
And wished she were in hell,
I’m sorry for that evil wish
And now I wish her well.

My old man died in a fine big house.
My ma died in a shack.
I wonder where I’m gonna die,
Being neither white nor black?

Ο ποιητής έχει συνείδηση της αξίας του και τη βεβαιότητα πως αυτή θα αναγνωριστεί και πως θα μπορέσει να συνυπάρξει με τους άλλους ως ισότιμο μέλος μιας κοινωνίας που για την ώρα τον κρατάει στο περιθώριο:

Epilogue
I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.

Νομίζω πως δεν θα μπορούσε να ξεκινήσει με καλύτερο τρόπο αναγνωστικά η νέα χρονιά. Σίγουρα θα επιστέψω σύντομα στον Langston Hughes προκειμένου να διαβάσω κι άλλα ποιήματά του όπως επίσης και τα πεζά του. Προτείνω την ποίησή του σε όλους ανεπιφύλακτα.

Περισσότερες πληροφορίες:

Η Αναγέννηση του Χάρλεμ 1917-1935

Αποτιμώντας το έργο του Λάνγκστον Χιουζ

Λάνγκστον Χιουζ Παγίδα και Διασταύρωση

Langston Hughes The Weary Blues on CBUT, 1958

[Ulysse · Rating 5 out of 5]

Novanta

There was a man called Langston Hughes
Who published his own Weary Blues
—After years of injustice
Far preceding Augustus
A black prince was born not to lose

A sinistra... / A destra...


.

[Theo Logos · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jazz-boys, jazz-boys, —
Play, plAY, PLAY!
Tomorrow…..is darkness.
Joy today!

The rhythm of life
Is a jazz rhythm,
Honey.
The gods are laughing at us.

In 1926, Langston Hughes published The Weary Blues. This groundbreaking collection of poems burst onto the scene ”Droning a drowsy, syncopated tune”, as Hughes was the first to integrate the rhythms of Blues and jazz into a literary form. On the strength of this initial volume, Hughes would go on to become one of the Harlem Renaissance’s brightest lights.

Many of these poems are set in the night life of Harlem — the smoky, Dionysian cabarets and night clubs that were often the only points of social interaction between blacks and whites. These poems are revealing of the pain behind the music and the joyful dissipation, the philosophy of eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may die that can accompany hopelessness:

Sun’s going down this evening —
Might never rise no mo’.
The sun’s going down this very night —
Might never rise no mo’.
So dance with swift feet, honey,
(The banjo’s sobbing low)
Dance with swift feet, honey —
Might never dance no mo’.
Song For A Banjo Dance

Does a jazz-band ever sob?
They say a jazz-band’s gay.
Yet as the vulgar dancers whirled
And the wan night wore away,
One said she heard the jazz-band sob
When the little dawn was gray.
Cabaret

Other poems here speak of the unfamiliarity and fear felt by many black immigrants newly come North from Southern climes:

I am afraid of this civilization —
So hard,
So strong,
So cold.

Or, from this short poem, titled Afraid:

We cry among the skyscrapers
As our ancestors
Cried among the palms in Africa
Because we are alone,
It is night,
And we’re afraid.

But above all, this collection proclaims that a new voice, a dusky voice, will be heard — demands, by virtue of its virtuosity to be heard. That voice gives notice that while the dice might be loaded now, that change is coming — get ready!

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll sit at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed, —

I, too, am America.

[chantel nouseforaname · Rating 5 out of 5]

“POEM

We have tomorrow
Bright before us
Like a flame.


Yesterday
A night-gone thing,
A sun-down name.


And dawn-today
Broad arch above the road we came.”


A bookish homie of mine asked me what I’m doing for Juneteenth this year.. and it led me to think about how best to celebrate. I naturally went to our Black poets and decided to finish up this amazing collection today in addition to a few others. So many gems in The Weary Blues. Above is my absolute favourite.

I also loved The Negro Speaks of Rivers, As I Grew Older (which reminds me to live and do everything my grandparents couldn’t especially in the small ways.. ““My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow”) I also loved: Harlem Night Song which somehow made me long for that which I’m not sure that I want but am pretty sure that I need.

I love this collection, as I sat with each poem they grew wings, and I know it will hold a special place in my heart.

[luce (cry bebè's back from hiatus) · Rating 3 out of 5]

It might be unimaginative to use a descriptor such as ‘lyrical’ to describe a poetry collection but I can’t help finding lyrical to perfectly sum up The Weary Blues. Some of the poems read like time capsules, or snapshots, that in just a few verses manage to capture the zeitgeist of the 1920s. Langston Hughes hones in particular on the experiences of Black Americans, and he does so both with joy and sorrow. Some of the poems are full of zing, as they are populated by dancers, lovers, and music. Others are more contemplative, as Hughes writes about history and the continued social injustices experienced by his community. While many of his poems are playful and thrumming with energy, some are startling for their seeming simplicity. I found myself loving those latter ones in particular.
In these poems Hughes experiments with his voice and style and the result is a multivalent collection; while some poems did come across as more 'finely tuned' than others, I found myself charmed by his collection and look forward to reading more of his poems.

[Julia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great collection of poems by Langston Hughes. A few of my favorites are: Ardella, Poem (To F.S.) and Epilogue. Read it and discover your favorites.

[Octavia · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the opening, I literally got chills as I came to the first piece in this collection called, ‘Proem.’ It begins with such a concrete line. It brought tears to my eyes. Although written with simplicity, readers can feel so much Strength in each line to the very conclusion. This was a collectionI did not want to end.


‘Midnight Nan At Leroy’s’ carries the electrifying Rhythmic words of Langston Hughes in a way that I had not ever seen. I was extremely impressed by the manner in which this poem also smoothly flowed into, ‘To A Little-Lass, Dead.’ This entire collection is Beautiful and allowed me to easily visualize everything about the Renaissance Era, Lenox Ave., the people, —- the complete imagery.

This is Historical Literature within this collection. It was originally published in 1926 and is Langston Hughes’ first collection. Numerous times I thought of his Honorary doctorate, degrees and Langston Hughes influential work. Simply an Amazing Life he lived.

Forever Cherished 🌟.

[Melanie THEE Reader · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is perfection. That is all.

[Shainlock · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jazzy poet

I read a lot of these twice because they were so mesmerizing.I have always liked his poetry, but I have never gotten to sit down and read it concentrated like this!
The weary blues play in your mind as you read these and you can hear a musical tune in the word structure. I loved it!
7/23
I got to hear him on a recording read some of his own thoughts and poems and I tell you I had chills. That man had a mind, a voice, a heart, and a strong soul to top
It off. It was inspiring. He had the spirit. He was intense.

[Agris Fakingsons · Rating 4 out of 5]

..šo pērli atradu maiņas mājiņas bardakā. paņēmu nosaukuma pēc un tikai pēc tam sapratu, kas tas ir. Dimiņam pēc lūguma sūtīju pāris labus pantus, sūtīju arī vienai paziņai, kura apraudājās. ļoti skanīgi panti, reizēm skumji nudien.

***
Es pa ceļu, kas lejup ved,
Eju uzcirties glauns.
Tas ir ceļš, kas uz elli ved,
Cita ceļa man nav.

[Charlene · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful of course! It’s Langston Hughes!

[Jose Ovalle · Rating 5 out of 5]

I first read Hughes in college and was hooked for a while. Read death of an old sailor man so many times I accidentally memorized it. Happy to see he’s only become better for me after all these years. A genius work, Whimsical, funny, but also full of grief and longing.

Some of these poems, like to FS, Sea calm, Cross, Afraid ( “it is night, and we are afraid”, sheesh) and especially Aunt Sue’s Stories ("And the dark-faced child, listening,
Knows that Aunt Sue's stories are real stories", my goodness) will stay with me for a long time.

[Jack Stewart · Rating 5 out of 5]

i actually can’t fathom the brilliance that i have just read. one of my favourite reads ever.

[Steve Chaput · Rating 5 out of 5]

A unique voice and a true American original. Reading his work is like listening to the best jazz musicians. Hughes remains an influence and inspiration to several generations of creators.

[Katy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Classic poetry that everyone should read.

[LeeTravelGoddess · Rating 5 out of 5]

10 Starssss!!! 💚✨💚✨💚✨

AMO!!!! Wow, just WOW. Fascinante!!! What a beautiful collection of words, poetry, love on a page!!!

I get the sense that Langy (my nickname for Langston Hughes) saw and experienced so much that words just could not contain it all. I’ve been sitting on his Autobiographies for I don’t know how long and I truly need to get to them ASAP to know where he’s been and see what he has seen. I knew he was well traveled 🙋🏽‍♀️ but I’m hearing nations that I have lived in as a part of his journey so I really need to get to it.

This collection is stunning, it’s a tops for me and will prolly be top 3 for 2023… along with Citizen x Claudia Rankine. I’m building a list cause it’s necessary. I NEED a physical copy of this beautiful work of art. Wow, just WOW. AMO💚AMO💚!!!

NEGRO = TODO

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

i love poetry that invoke feelings and this is some of my favorite that i’ve read. i still feel it in my heart when i think of some of them.

[Melanie THEE Reader · Rating 5 out of 5]

The poetry of Langston Hughes is nourishment for the soul. That is all ❤️

[Salem ☥ · Rating 4 out of 5]

“I work all day,
Said Simple John,
Myself a house to buy.
I work all day,
Said Simple John,
But Pierrot wondered why.


For Pierrot loved the long white road,
And Pierrot loved the moon,
And Pierrot loved a star-filled sky,
And the breath of a rose in June.


I have one wife,
Said Simple John,
And, faith, I love her yet.
I have one wife,
Said Simple John,
But Pierrot left Pierrette.


For Pierrot saw a world of girls,
And Pierrot loved each one,
And Pierrot thought all maidens fair
As flowers in the sun.


Oh, I am good,
Said Simple John,
The Lord will take me in.
Yes, I am good,
Said Simple John,
But Pierrot’s steeped in sin.


For Pierrot played on a slim guitar,
And Pierrot loved the moon,
And Pierrot ran down the long white road
With the burgher’s wife one June.”

[Alfonso Gaitan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exceptional reprint of Langston Hughes debut collection of poetry. You can see Hughes burgeoning political voice, as well as his eloquent and observant verse, all very recognizable. Even as a debut, Hughes' mastery of lyricism is evident!

[HR Habibur Rahman · Rating 5 out of 5]

এই লোকটার কবিতা এত্ত জোশ জানতামনা

[Lois · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful and timeless

Most of these poems I haven't read since I left middle school.
I remember in 5th grade and grade 8 we had to memorize and deliver a Langston Hughes poem.

[Tonya Johnson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Awesome!!

A kindle unlimited classic. I'm not usually a poem reader. I loved every word of every poem in this book!! I'm going to read it one more time!!

[Jazzy Lemon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Few poets could match the intensity of Langston Hughes