Baldwin, Addiction, and Music

I recent listened to Never Enough: The Neuroscience and Experience of Addiction by Judith Grisel-. Grisel gave a TED Talk Feb 2020. I didn't listen, but I'm sure it is a 12 minute version of her book.

Never Enough is her experience as a hard core drug addict, and what she learned studying drug addiction as a neuroscientist. The book is great. It gives a deep dive into the science and chemistry of drugs and addiction. If you can't tell by the title, the book is about why drugs will never be enough. James Baldwin understood and described this in his 1957 short story titled Sonny Blues.

Grisel must agree with the perception Baldwin creates in his character Sonny. The following scene is between Sonny and his brother, the narrator.

[Sonny] walked away from the window and sat on the sofa again, as though all the wind had suddenly been knocked out of him. "Sometimes you'll do anything to play, even cut your mother's throat." He laughed and looked at me. "Or your brother's." Then he sobered. "Or your own." Then: "Don't worry. I'm all right now and I think I'll be all right. But I can't forget- where I've been. I don't mean just the physical place I've been, I mean where I've been. And what I've been."

"What have you been, Sonny?" I asked.

He smiled-but sat sideways on the sofa, his elbow resting on the back, his fingers playing with his mouth and chin, not looking at me. "I've been something I didn't recognize, didn't know I could be. Didn't know anybody could be." He stopped, looking inward, looking helplessly young, looking old. "I'm not talking about it now because I feel guilty or anything like that-maybe it would be better if I did, I don't know. Anyway, I can't really talk about it. Not to you, not to anybody," and now he turned and faced me. "Sometimes, you know, and it was actually when I was most out of the world, I felt that I was in it, that I was with it, really, and I could play or I didn't really have to play, it just came out of me, it was there. And I don't know how I played, thinking about it now, but I know I did awful things, those times, sometimes, to people. Or it wasn't that I did anything to them-it was that they weren't real." He picked up the beer can; it was empty; he rolled it between his palms: "And other times-well, I needed a fix, I needed to find a place to lean, I needed to clear a space to listen-and I couldn't find it, and I-went crazy, I did terrible things to me, I was terrible for me." He began pressing the beer can between his hands, I watched the metal begin to give. It glittered, as he played with it like a knife, and I was afraid he would cut himself, but I said nothing. "Oh well. I can never tell you. I was all by myself at the bottom of something, stinking and sweating and crying and shaking, and I smelled it, you know? my stink, and I thought I'd die if I couldn't get away from it and yet, all the same, I knew that everything I was doing was just locking me in with it. And I didn't know," he paused, still flattening the beer can, "I didn't know, I still don't know, something kept telling me that maybe it was good to smell your own stink, but I didn't think that that was what I'd been trying to do- and-who can stand it?" and he abruptly dropped the ruined beer can, looking at me with a small, still smile, and then rose, walking to the window as though it were the lodestone rock. I watched his face, he watched the avenue. "I couldn't tell you when Mama died-but the reason I wanted to leave Harlem so bad was to get away from drugs. And then, when I ran away, that's what I was running from-really. When I came back, nothing had changed I hadn't changed I was just-older." And he stopped, drumming with his fingers on the windowpane. The sun had vanished, soon darkness would fall. I watched his face. "It can come again," he said, almost as though speaking to himself. Then he turned to me. "It can come again," he repeated. "I just want you to know that."

Later in the story, Sonny's brother goes to watch Sonny play the blues. Here is his experience watching and hearing his brother.

Then they all gathered around Sonny and Sonny played. Every now and again one of them seemed to say, amen. Sonny's fingers filled the air with life, his life. But that life contained so many others. And Sonny went all the way back, he really began with the spare, flat statement of the opening phrase of the song. Then he began to make it his. It was very beautiful because it wasn't hurried and it was no longer a lament. I seemed to hear with what burning he had made it his, and what burning we had yet to make it ours, how we could cease lamenting. Freedom lurked around us and I understood, at last, that he could help us to be free if we would listen, that he would never be free until we did. Yet, there was no battle in his face now, I heard what he had gone through, and would continue to go through until he came to rest in earth. He had made it his: that long line, of which we knew only Mama and Daddy. And he was giving it back, as everything must be given back, so that, passing through death, it can live forever. I saw my mother's face again, and felt, for the first time, how the stones of the road she had walked on must have bruised her feet. I saw the moonlit road where my father's brother died. And it brought something else back to me, and carried me past it, I saw my little girl again and felt Isabel's tears again, and I felt my own tears begin to rise. And I was yet aware that this was only a moment, that the world waited outside, as hungry as a tiger, and that trouble stretched above us, longer than the sky.

Why Forrest Should Intentionally Read more Diverse Authors and less White Males

My more formal response to Forrest, a white male who reads mostly white male authors.

Writing is a profession of super privilege. You need lots of time to do nothing productive for yourself, family, or society while you sit to finish a book, plus all that time sitting getting good enough to make money off that finished book. Before I get off topic, equality isn't my main point. The perspectives that diverse authors offer is why Forrest should read less white males.

I cannot speak from experience, but women and people of color experience the world differently than white males. Everyone experiences racism or sexism differently. Women, people of color, and or minorities are shaped by these experiences. It affects the way they learn and understand science, data, philosophy, history, and or economics.

These experiences might make diverse authors more likely to questions certain ideas. Ideas that white males, readers and authors, wouldn't or might be less likely to consider. They may see history, experiments, relationships, etc pointing to other findings or conclusions. They have a unique or unlikely hypothesis that could end up being useful to a field of study. I'm getting more towards research, but you get the point. The way different people see and experience the world affects their learning and writing.

Diverse voices offer insights that white males cannot or may not.

It is important for white males to read more diverse authors, but diverse readers also need to read diverse authors. Diverse readers will be able to connect more with authors who share closer

experiences and cultural backgrounds. So it is important for everyone to read diverse authors.

Here is the best selling books of 2019 for nonfiction paperbacks. It is a lot more diverse than I expected. So that is good

Back to Forrest, Forrest mostly, over 90%, reads white males. It partly has to do with his interests. Which have far fewer options for non white male authors. So what should he do?

I'll admit that biology affects people and personality, so disparities in author's sex for certain topics could be biological. How much? Who knows because society and culture influences us too. I will admit that biological factors could influence different sexes to be more or less interested in fields of studies and therefore less women authors in some topics. Otherwise, there is no reason why other races wouldn't be interested other than culture. So culture is obviously the major blame in the imbalance of diverse authors Forrest wants to read.

So what should Forrest read?

Forrest should read more diverse authors even if he ignores or delays books he wants to read. I have two more anecdotal reasons.

Ann Morgan decided to read a book from every country in one year and it changed her life, She gave a TED Talk. Here is her reading list and what she did. Watch her TED Talk or check out her website. It is a very cool story.

I had a similar experience, but no where near as cool outcome. No TED Talk, no website, just a limited recommendations list and a blog post.

It started from an argument with a friend. I claimed my friend was closed minded because he only read white male Christian authors. After calling him out, I compiled a list of all the books I recently read. To my surprise, I also had few woman, even less people of color, and overwhelmingly white males.

I was a student at the time, so I decided I wouldn't read or listen to any book by white males unless it was required for school. I kept this up for over a year. I gained a ton from this. First, I read books I wouldn't have and found perspectives and information I wouldn't have accessed otherwise. Like a book about sex; or a book about how animal diseases can teach us about human diseases; or a book about Russian women in WWII.

I found that most of my favorite novels were women writers. Women can write, understand, and create male characters better than men can women (I'd say a lot better). I'd say the same for race: people of color write/understand white people better than white people understand people of color.

Besides finding better fiction and new ideas, I started to understand women and other cultures more. This helped me understand and communicate with people in my life. And most important, I see the world more complete. I'm more likely to notice subtle sexism and racism. I'm more likely to call out friends, like Forrest, or my family when they say, "I'm not sexist, but...". I'm more likely to explain what feminism is. Or share a diverse perspective I read. I definitely advocate for people more, probably not enough, but more.

I still read white males, and I still seek out white male alternatives for no other reason then to mix it up. I still can do better. It is easy to find women. African American poetry and fiction is abundant. Social sciences aren't as bad either. Philosophy, economics, certain history topics, and hard sciences are more difficult.

If you want to study Alexander the Great (which I did), you have to read a lot of white men, but you can balance those white men with other genres or topics. Read about an Asian or African historical figure, or go read random historical fiction. 

Go buy or read a non white author you normally wouldn't buy or read!