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tocupine's review against another edition
5.0
A couple of months ago I did not know who Paul Robeson was. I heard about this book in this video by Rad Reads and it sounded interesting (along with other books mentioned in the video). Robeson's powerful and optimistic attitude on the rights of African American people and the working class is inspiring, he was truly an amazing individual. Usually I try to set time in a day to read but this book was an exception and I basically read it all in one go. Just a fantastic book.
el_entrenador_loco's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.25
oldsouls_lovebooks's review against another edition
5.0
Despite being so short I really loved reading Paul Robeson’s memoir. I don’t know if this makes sense or not but reading Here I Stand felt very much like listening to Paul Robeson sing. It felt so full of warmth and beauty and passion. If you’ve ever watched an interview of him or heard him sing you’ll understand what I’m talking about. I could practically hear every word off the page in that deep; friendly tone he was known for. Aside from being a well-beloved singer and actor, Robeson was a proud communist who consistently spoke out for the liberation of black people and the understanding that the history of how the capitalist West built its wealth was through colonization and imperialist extraction across the globe, the genocide of the indigenous and the enslavement of Africans. The fact that the son of a slave would become famous and then use said fame to condemn the oppression of black people and show love and affection towards the peoples of the USSR and China meant that he was doomed to be targeted by HUAC. This prevented him from traveling oversees and subsequently dampening his career as an artist but he refused to back down, and this book, published in 1958, was his way of doing just that.
It’s convenient that I read this and James Baldwin’s No Name in the Street around the same time. Just like Baldwin’s memoir, Here I Stand reads partly as a historical analysis on the politics of the time rather than a mere deep dive into the particulars of their life. I’d recommend reading both congruently because it allows you to see the through line connecting earlier black politics of the early to mid 1900s to the politics of the 1960-70s that Baldwin largely reflects on. Aside from my general love of Robeson, I think the reason why I appreciate this book so much is because of the time period it focuses on. So much of our understanding of “radical” history revolves around the 1960s onward. Of course that makes sense given it was a time of counterculture and revolution all readily available to witness with a mere click of a TV remote, but the revolutions and movements of the early-mid 20th century laid the groundwork for what was to come later and this is displayed in Robeson’s recounting of labor movements he witnessed in Europe, communist and left wing fronts in fighting the rising tide of fascism in the lead up to WWII, and in his advocacy for African independence that got him in trouble with the British government, “The British Intelligence came one day to caution me about the political meaning of my activities. For the question loomed of itself: If African culture was what I insisted it was, what happens then to the claim that it would take 1,000 years for Africans to be capable of self-rule?"
I also loved hearing him describe his childhood and his family background. He starts out his memoir by saying, “The glory of my boyhood years was my father. I loved him like no one in all the world.” You truly get to know how much he valued his father and his siblings and how even in their passing he saw a proud and survivalist spirit of black people reflected in his memories of them. “Some might say that Reed did not turn out as well as the other Robeson children… Reed is dead now. He won no honors in classroom, pulpit or platform. Yet I remember him with love. Restless, rebellious, scoffing at conventions, defiant of the white man’s law—I’ve known many Negroes like Reed. I see them everyday…they seek a way out for themselves; alone, they pound with their fists and fury against walls that only the shoulders of the many can topple. “Don’t ever take low,” was the lesson Reed taught me. “Stand up to them and hit back harder than they hit you!” When the many have learned that lesson, everything will be different and then the fiery ones like Reed will be able to live out their lives in peace and no one will have cause to frown on them.” The expression of love and pride for his family and for black people sits side by side his indictment of the harsh realities of white supremacy in America.
Ultimately, Here I Stand is a searing indictment of the white supremacy and exploitation that’s inherently baked into America and the capitalist West writ large. The idea that a black man whose father was a slave would have to answer to anyone in the US government about his communism or his affinity for the Soviet Union would be laughable if wasn’t so goddamn offensive. The fact that he felt he needed to write this book in order to fight the slander against him, and that his legacy as a renowned black artist and activist has been sidelined in popular memory just shows how much of our understanding of black history has been carefully curated to fit within a respectable liberal framework. There’s a reason why the marxist politics of Paul Robeson among many other historical black figures aren’t well known unless you read their memoirs or listen to specific speeches. I know that for myself, learning about the socialist and communist politics of black figures over the years helped me re-examine the things I had been taught about our history and why. It made me angry that I had been given a revisionist history about my own people from school, from Hollywood, from the news. It also made me excited to reintroduce myself to these people and learn from them. I highly recommend reading this memoir. It’s important that we let their voices be heard after being silenced for so long.
It’s convenient that I read this and James Baldwin’s No Name in the Street around the same time. Just like Baldwin’s memoir, Here I Stand reads partly as a historical analysis on the politics of the time rather than a mere deep dive into the particulars of their life. I’d recommend reading both congruently because it allows you to see the through line connecting earlier black politics of the early to mid 1900s to the politics of the 1960-70s that Baldwin largely reflects on. Aside from my general love of Robeson, I think the reason why I appreciate this book so much is because of the time period it focuses on. So much of our understanding of “radical” history revolves around the 1960s onward. Of course that makes sense given it was a time of counterculture and revolution all readily available to witness with a mere click of a TV remote, but the revolutions and movements of the early-mid 20th century laid the groundwork for what was to come later and this is displayed in Robeson’s recounting of labor movements he witnessed in Europe, communist and left wing fronts in fighting the rising tide of fascism in the lead up to WWII, and in his advocacy for African independence that got him in trouble with the British government, “The British Intelligence came one day to caution me about the political meaning of my activities. For the question loomed of itself: If African culture was what I insisted it was, what happens then to the claim that it would take 1,000 years for Africans to be capable of self-rule?"
I also loved hearing him describe his childhood and his family background. He starts out his memoir by saying, “The glory of my boyhood years was my father. I loved him like no one in all the world.” You truly get to know how much he valued his father and his siblings and how even in their passing he saw a proud and survivalist spirit of black people reflected in his memories of them. “Some might say that Reed did not turn out as well as the other Robeson children… Reed is dead now. He won no honors in classroom, pulpit or platform. Yet I remember him with love. Restless, rebellious, scoffing at conventions, defiant of the white man’s law—I’ve known many Negroes like Reed. I see them everyday…they seek a way out for themselves; alone, they pound with their fists and fury against walls that only the shoulders of the many can topple. “Don’t ever take low,” was the lesson Reed taught me. “Stand up to them and hit back harder than they hit you!” When the many have learned that lesson, everything will be different and then the fiery ones like Reed will be able to live out their lives in peace and no one will have cause to frown on them.” The expression of love and pride for his family and for black people sits side by side his indictment of the harsh realities of white supremacy in America.
Ultimately, Here I Stand is a searing indictment of the white supremacy and exploitation that’s inherently baked into America and the capitalist West writ large. The idea that a black man whose father was a slave would have to answer to anyone in the US government about his communism or his affinity for the Soviet Union would be laughable if wasn’t so goddamn offensive. The fact that he felt he needed to write this book in order to fight the slander against him, and that his legacy as a renowned black artist and activist has been sidelined in popular memory just shows how much of our understanding of black history has been carefully curated to fit within a respectable liberal framework. There’s a reason why the marxist politics of Paul Robeson among many other historical black figures aren’t well known unless you read their memoirs or listen to specific speeches. I know that for myself, learning about the socialist and communist politics of black figures over the years helped me re-examine the things I had been taught about our history and why. It made me angry that I had been given a revisionist history about my own people from school, from Hollywood, from the news. It also made me excited to reintroduce myself to these people and learn from them. I highly recommend reading this memoir. It’s important that we let their voices be heard after being silenced for so long.
vrkinase0411's review against another edition
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
3.5
magsphil's review against another edition
5.0
His optimistic attitude is probably what struck me the most. He truly believes in the power of the Black & working class people of America. Sad to me that we haven't made as much progress as he had hoped for, but definitely inspired some hope for the future. He also just has such unique experiences as a black man/celebrity/communist who is very active in the international community. Such a good read.
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