Baraka, Amiri. “Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note.” Poetry Foundation,
Summary and Discussion of Work
This poem, dedicated to Amiri Baraka’s daughter, considers the author’s existence and daily life, reflecting upon becoming accustomed and even consumed by the little pieces of every day, done every day. The first stanza could easily be a commentary on domestic life and the boredom of everyday life, and yet at the same time speaks to a discomfort of accepting being “enveloped” by the world as he enters it every day. His political position as a black man means that he is accepting less in society, or receiving less from the same everyday activities because he is in some way denied other opportunities. As he looks into nature, he sees the same amount of everything, and when the stars disappear, he can still see the holes they left. This could be thought of as opportunity disappearing from him the longer he is alive, and representing the fact that even though the same opportunities are seemingly as available to him as they are to everyone else regardless or race or circumstance, the reality is that they are not available to him, a black man. Yet despite those opportunities being unavailable to him, he can still see that they are there, forever unable to be attained.
The knowledge that opportunities will be forever unavailable to him and he cannot reach them, combined with a communal acknowledgement that black communities should accept the everyday status quo as it stands, leads people to stop hoping, and to stop singing. Singing as a communal release of anger and frustration and sadness, as well as a tool to bring hope to black communities, is an important part of the culture as well as an important part of political involvement, and the fact that the singing stops is not simply an indicator of complacency, but an indicator of acceptance of the situation that black communities are currently in.
That complacency and acceptance of a lesser position for black communities becomes dangerous when considering the legacy it leaves for black children; that concern leads Baraka not to a message of fear, however, but back to hope. He sees his daughter kneeling, praying aloud into her clasped hands, her eyes peering into the blackness of those clasped hands, and he sees those who are still speaking, even to God, and still hoping for a better life. While readers to not get to hear the words she speaks, they do get the image of her looking into “her own clasped hands,” an indication that she speaks not only to God, but to herself, reminding Baraka that the place for hope and desire for change starts from within, from speaking to oneself.
This poem, in comparison to other works Baraka wrote, suggests a change in how he feels about his relationship with America, or if not a change, then certainly an uncertain feeling about how he should direct his life course regarding his political and social life.