Jazz and Langston Hughes: The Sound of Resistance
Langston Hughes, 1942. [Courtesy of the Library of Congress]
Langston Hughes’ work is often likened to jazz, which is infused with rhythm and syncopation that eventually accumulates in a musical genre that is spontaneous in nature. It has become a uniquely American symbol, created by Black people, which stands in defiance against the predominantly White narratives of this country, with its instruments and melodies that, if they’re not celebrating Black life in spite of societal pressure against them, are mournfully wailing out the melancholy of turbulent Black history. Jazz is not just a classification of music; it is symbolic of struggles and pain and joy that are rooted in America’s messy past. In a number of his poems, Hughes uses the form of the piece, a dialect that imitates the improvisatory nature of the musical genre, and a deep pride in his Blackness in order to emulate jazz, proving that jazz has a deeply historical foundation that epitomizes resistance.
Jazz, whether it’s being performed in a sorrowful or upbeat fashion, is imbued with a genuine quality of life that reflects the ups and downs of humanity, which also comes through in Hughes’ pieces. He is a master of form, wielding structure to his will in order to communicate in this musical manner, lines of his poetry reading easily like the lyrics of a song. In “Ballad of the Landlord,” Hughes writes in quatrains for the majority of the poem, but when he begins to write in tercets towards the end, it switches up the rhythm, reflecting the syncopation that can so often be found in jazz; in turn, the syncopation reflects how life is not linear, especially from a historically Black perspective, with societal obstacles constantly thrown in their path that prevent them from living on their own terms. In the context of the poem, the sudden conciseness of the “copper’s whistle!” and “patrol bell!” lends to the abrupt quality of the arrest, and how quickly everything unfurled as the speaker was sentenced to ninety days in the county jail. The exclamations, too, are reminiscent of a staccato rhythm, like when a trumpet suddenly toots. As for “Theme for English B,” Hughes changes the structure throughout his piece, therefore masterfully changing his flow and rhythm. He begins by writing about inarguable facts, such as how old he is and how to get from his school to his bedroom; he even writes that he likes to “eat, sleep, drink, and be in love,” words of which are deceptively simple, but they showcase the humanity that middle-class Black people experience, just like everyone else. As the piece goes on, however, Hughes transitions to discussing abstract ideas, as he questions Black authenticity of writing, and whether or not his writing is “colored” (Hughes, n.d.). The juxtaposition between the concrete and the theoretical displays the liveliness of Hughes’ writing, permeated with that same genuine quality of movement that is present in both jazz and humanity. There also exists that same staccato rhythm that appears in other works by Hughes, such as when he uses sharp accents—“hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page”—which recall the sound of trumpets or clarinets (Hughes, n.d.). The form of Hughes’ writing reflects that of a jazz piece, which then reflects the unpredictable fluctuations of life, proving that his writing is synonymous with this genre of music, and both jazz and his works stand unapologetically against White culture in America.
Dialect is another common characteristic of his writing, which draws similarities to the improvisatory nature of jazz and, again, reflects the utter humanity that is present in both his writing and jazz. In “Ballad of the Landlord,” Hughes uses phrases such as “that’s ten bucks more’n I’ll pay you” and “you ain’t gonna be able to say a word” which flow very easily from the mouth. Even though Hughes surely put great thought into every word he wrote, he manages to make phrases sound as if they were spoken casually, similar to how someone in a jazz band might spontaneously play a solo. He also uses repetition, such as when he echoes “landlord, landlord,” “ten bucks,” and “you gonna,” which brings to mind the chorus of a jazz song, though the repetition usually occurs within a single stanza, with the exception of “landlord, landlord” in the first two stanzas (Hughes, n.d.). To me, this reflects how jazz songs never sound the same twice, forever changing, even when repetition is present in songs, solely because jazz is a living, breathing genre. Just like life, it is not stagnant; the rhythm varies from stanza to stanza. Additionally, dialect reflects the genuine humanity in Black culture. It can be assumed that the speaker is poor from the way he talks, but the anger he experiences at this landlord is something that all people can relate to, when they have been slighted by an authority figure, therefore proving that Black people feel emotions just like any other, regardless of class and race. This is similar to how, when Black people began to move to cities, they were able to show each other how people sang in their respective hometowns, therefore communicating through music, despite their many different origins. The speaker’s dialect is contrasted by the proper grammar of the police’s dialogue, as they claim that the speaker is “trying to ruin the government” and “overturn the land” (Hughes, n.d.). The distinction testifies, historically, that Standard English has always been viewed as more “correct” than Black English, and because of this, people who use Standard English are more likely to be trusted. Thus it stands true that history has been unfair the Black community—assuming intelligence based on how people speak—and since this very same community founded jazz, which had a great influence on Hughes’ work, it’s safe to say that both the very presence of jazz and Hughes’ writing are symbols of resistance against a culture that strongly favors White people. His audience then understands how much is at stake, and that jazz is not simply a category of music, but something that forever tries to reconcile its conflicts and compromises that exist solely in its spontaneous nature.
Jazz music was, again, born from Black people, and naturally should express a deep pride in Blackness, which is a pride that also comes through in Hughes’ work. The lovechild of many people singing the blues of their hometowns, which were located in varying different parts of the country, this genre was capable of reflecting a multitude of cultural differences, aside from this one simple fact: they were all Black. In “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain,” Hughes even references jazz directly, referring to the genre as “one of the inherent expressions of Negro life in America,” calling upon vivid images of the “tom-tom of revolt against weariness in a white world…” and the “tom-tom of joy and laughter, and pain swallowed in a smile.” Here, jazz and his writing work in conjunction, and no reading in between the lines is required to understand that, from Hughes’ perspective, jazz music is infused with so much life, whether those emotions are positive or negative, and it is both a symbol and backbone for Black life, present in times of joy and times of desolation. He goes on to implore his audience to push back defiantly until the “blare of Negro jazz bands” and the “bellowing voice of Bessie Smith singing the blues” reach the ears of a deaf society (Hughes, n.d.). Let “we younger Negro artists” express our “individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame,” he argues, proving that, like the resistance that exists in the presence of jazz music itself, Black people should not be apologetic in their existence. His profound passion is also evident in “Theme for English B,” as Hughes, unashamed, declares that he does not “often want to be a part of [his White teacher],” but that they are still part of each other, whether they like it or not, is “American.” At the time of this poem’s publication, people often debated whether Black people were equal to White people, but here Hughes confidently declares that they are, in fact, both truly American, showing a pride for the Black community that harkens back to the “eternal tom-tom beating in the Negro soul,” which is jazz itself (Hughes, n.d.). Jazz music and his writing stand strong over a prejudiced society, unapologetically Black, and unapologetically proud of this fact.
Fascinated by jazz and the blues, Hughes is capable of understanding the genre as music that rejects White assimilation, instead celebrating Black art and creativity. By drawing comparisons to jazz music’s form and rhythm, dialect, and Black pride, he writes poems and texts that sound like music, encompassing Black resistance and the voices of his community in his relentless fight for liberty in America.
References
Hughes, Langston. (n.d.) Ballad of the Landlord. National Humanities Center. https://nationalhumanitiescenter.org/pds/maai3/protest/text11/hugheslandlord.pdf.
Hughes, Langston. (n.d.) The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain. Poetry Foundation. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69395/the-negro-artist-and-the-racial-mountain.
Hughes, Langston. (n.d.) Theme for English B. Poetry Foundation. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47880/theme-for-english-b.