Saturday, December 14, 2024

The Message by Ta-Nehisi Coates

★★★★★

For me, Ta-Nehisi Coates is not easy to read. I'm generally a slow reader to begin with, and the less conversational the writing, the longer it takes me to read it. Ta-Nehisi Coates writes with a kind of lyricism; he is succinct, but not exactly straightforward.

This book is a reflection on writing. Coates believes that "this tradition of writing, of drawing out a common humanity, is indispensable to our future, if only because what must be cultivated and cared for must first be seen." (p. 16) Through writing, "we are charged with examining the stories we have been told, and how they undergird the politics we have accepted, and then telling new stories ourselves." (p. 19) He addresses the book to his students, tasking young writers with "nothing less than doing their part to save the world." (p. 20)

The Message is a must-read for its ability to open a reader's eyes to the ways in which our beliefs, our perspectives, our very understanding of the world around us, are shaped not only by our own thoughts and the facts at our disposal, but also by the carefully curated narratives we see and hear in the news and other cultural mediums all around us. The job of a writer is to tell people's stories, and it's up to us as readers to seek out what is not automatically presented to us - and to question why some accounts are readily available and others are not.

Much of the book reads like a memoir, with Coates sharing personal experiences and meditations, and other parts like a travelogue, as Coates recounts his visits to Senegal, South Carolina, and Palestine.

Describing his time in Dakar, Senegal, Coates writes about the deep poignancy of traveling to Africa for the first time, how he had "come back" (p. 44) to the home of his enslaved ancestors. He thinks of his "exponential grandmothers taken from this side of the world and... their frustrated dreams of getting back home... [and] the home they tried to make on the other side, despite it all." (p. 44) He reflects that only by traveling and experiencing "the unique interaction between that world and your consciousness" (p. 44) are one's own fears and doubts revealed.

In Chapin, South Carolina, Coates visits a high school English teacher forced to defend her curriculum and job against students and parents who want to ban his book, Between the World and Me. In getting to know Mary Wood, and while attending a local school board meeting in her support, he twice "heard of a reading group... as the epicenter of political disruption." (p. 98) To affect change, one must first be able to "imagine that new policies are possible. And now... some people... had, through the work of Black writers, begun that work of imagining." (p. 99)

While touring Palestine, Coates witnesses the "separate and unequal nature of Israeli rule [that] is both intense and omnipresent" (p. 127), "where rule by the ballot for some and the bullet for others was policy." (p. 135) At first he drew connections to Jim Crow segregation, then felt compelled "to describe... [Palestine], not as a satellite of [his] old world but as a world in and of itself." (p. 146) He calls out the journalists who claim to disinterestedly present "both sides" but who "are playing god - it is the journalists who decide which sides are legitimate and which are not... And this power is an extension of the power of other curators of the culture - network execs, producers, publishers - whose core job is deciding which stories get told and which do not." (p. 148) He calls for Palestinian voices, insisting that "[i]f Palestinians are to be truly seen, it will be through stories woven by their own hands." (p. 232)

This book offers many profound and thought-provoking ideas, but one quote sticks with me. At the school board meeting in South Carolina, a man speaking against the book ban called attention to the optics a ban would create, feeding into negative stereotypes of Southern whiteness. Coates notes, "This may seem self-interested, a stance taken more to avoid a stigma than to break an arrangement of power. Given the kind of loud virtue signaling that followed 2020, I understand the question. But virtues should be signaled, and the signalers should act to make their virtues manifest." (p. 102)