It's a long weekend here in the Netherlands and I am celebrating by staying in to read and do my grading. Yesterday, I finished A Drop of Patience by William Melvin Kelley (1937-2017). Called "a lost giant of American literature" by Kathryn Schulz, Kelley was a significant writer of the Black Arts Movement. I had never heard of him before I picked the book up off the library shelves a few weeks ago, although his name might be familiar to you--he's widely credited to be the first person to use the term "woke" in its modern sense in print.
A Drop of Patience tells the story of Ludlow Washington, a blind jazz musician who grows up in a state institution for blind Black children, where he learns to play music. The novel's six parts follow his musical career and relationships--with Etta-Sue Scott, his landlady's daughter; Ragan, a white New Yorker; and Harriet Smith, a Black woman studying journalism at college. The introduction I read--by Gerald Early--describes it as "one of the classic literary depictions of the jazz artist." Ludlow Washington is a rare talent of a musician--he knows it, the people around him know it--but I don't think I've ever read a book about artistic genius where the artist is constantly practicing. For me, this was a book that asks complex questions about art, audience, and race; and the meaning of creative work. This passage, from the middle of the novel, is one I'm going to be thinking about for awhile.
The pianist was quiet for a long while and just when Ludlow was convinced he had refused to talk, he started: "Some folks around think we artists, like classical musicians. Maybe we are."
Ludlow did not understand the connection. His dismay must have crossed his face.
"Ludlow, there are only two reasons why people do things--because they want to, and because they got to. The only time you can do something good is when you want to. Now maybe sometimes you can want to do something so bad that after a while it's like you got to. But now instead of being made to do it by someone else, you making yourself do it, and then maybe you an artist. Okay, now take you. You could be playing like everybody else and then instead of being in O'Gee's band, he'd be in yours. For some reason you don't play like nobody else. But ain't nobody forcing you to be different. So maybe you better forget about money because if you really cared about it, you'd be playing the way that makes the most money."
Ludlow was more confused than ever. "Then why do I play?"
~A Drop of Patience by William Melvin Kelley (New York, 1965), p. 156I recommend it.
Further Reading
Gerald Early's introduction made me want to learn more about Kelley's work and life. Here are some pieces I enjoyed.
Sarah Hughes, "Lost literary masterpiece of 1960s black America comes to UK," The Guardian, 27 October 2018, https://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/oct/27/william-melvin-kelley-lost-masterpiece-sixties-black-america
Coll Rowe, "Remembering William Melvin Kelley, author of A DIFFERENT DRUMMER," Penguin Random House, 20 November 2020, https://penguinrandomhousehighereducation.com/2020/11/20/william_melvin_kelley/
Kathryn Schuz, "William Melvin Kelley: the lost giant of American literature," The New Yorker, 22 January 2018, https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/01/29/the-lost-giant-of-american-literature
