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WILLIAM EDWARD BURGHARDT DU BOIS
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Harlem Renaissance & THE CRISIS |
At the height of the Harlem Renaissance Du Bois was a familiar presence in New York. A prime mover in that fast-paced, exciting cultural explosion, Du Bois extended a helping hand to many of his younger colleagues, publishing in the pages of THE CRISIS the best poetry and prose of African-American writers, among them Langston Hughes, who dedicated THE NEGRO SPEAKS RIVERS to Du Bois. Through the N.A.A.C.P. Du Bois was also instrumental in creating opportunities for intellectual and artistic advancement for blacks and ways of rewarding and encouraging excellence, notably his collaboration with the Spingarns in creating the prestigious nedals which bear that family's name till today. He published a novel, DARK PRINCESS, in 1928, and he continued to edit THE CRISIS from 1910-1934 until he began to reject the conservatism of the N.A.A.C.P.'s political views. Du Bois' gradual radicalization paralleled that of a number of other black intellectuals and artists, Langston Hughes and Paul Robeson prominently among them. He embraced leftist ideology, was awarded the Lenin Peace Prize in 1958 and formally joined the Communist Party in 1961. In the last year of his life he moved to Ghana and took citizenship in that nation. His memoirs, DUSK OF DAWN, written in 1940, and his posthumously published three volumes of CORRESPONDENCE constitute not only a personal history but also the autobiography of a race in their proud ascent from slavery to freedom and in their courageous quest for equality--a struggle which Du Bois had once described as an unending battle against the forces of hell.
From W.E.B. Du Bois' THE SOULS OF BLACK FOLK,
"They that walked in darkness sang songs in the olden days--Sorrow Songs--for they were weary at heart. And so before each thought that I have written in this book I have set a phrase, a haunting echo of these weird old songs in which the soul of the black man spoke to men. Ever since I was a child these songs have stirred me strangely. They came out of the South unknown to me, one by one, and yet at once I knew them as of me and mine. Then in the years when I came to Nashville I saw the great temple builded of these songs towering over the pale city. To me Jubilee Hall seemed ever made of the songs themselves, and its bricks were red with the blood and dust of toil. Out of them rose for morning, noon, and night, bursts of wonderful melody, full of the voices of my brothers and sisters, full of the voices of the past...... The songs are indeed the siftings of centuries; the music is far more ancient than the words...
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