Juneteenth by Ralph Ellison Read Free Book Online Page B

darkness, an overcast has come upon us. There are seasons in the affairs of nations, and this is to be expected. But I disagree that the momentary disruptions which rack our society are anything new or sufficient reason for despair.
    “My friends, in such a nation as ours, in a nation blessed with somuch good fortune, with so much brightness, it is sometimes instructive when we are so compelled, to look on the dark side. It is a corrective to the bedazzlement fostered by the brightness of our ideals and our history. The gentlemen from Pennsylvania will recall that the dark and viscous substance which once fouled the water of their fair state gave way under scientific scrutiny and soon gave radiance to their gloom. It made bright their homes and cities, became a new source of wealth. The gentlemen from Alabama and Georgia will recall the life-giving resuscitation of the old legend of sailing ship days, in which sailors dying of thirst took what appeared to be black-humored advice from a passing ship’s captain and, plunging their buckets into what appeared to be pure brine, drew sweet spring water from the depths of the sea. They’ll recall too that during a dark time in a dark section of the South a miracle was discovered beneath the hull of the humble peanut which proved similar to that of the loaves and the fishes. Yes, and this to the well-being of their state and nation.
    “So in dark days look steadily on the darker side, for there is where brightness sometimes hides itself.
    “Therefore let us have faith, hope and daring. And who can doubt our future when even the wildest black man behind the wheel of a Cadillac knows—Please, please!” the Senator pleaded, his face a mask before the rising ripple of laughter, the clatter of applause, “Hear me out: I say that even the wildest black man rampaging the streets of our cities in a Fleetwood knows that it is not our fate to be mere victims of history but to be courageous and insightful before its assaults and riddles.”
    And then, with a face most serious in its composure, he went on: “We have reached a sad state of affairs, gentlemen, wherein this fine product of American skill and initiative has become so common in Harlem that much of its initial value has been sorely compromised.Indeed, I am led to suggest, and quite seriously, that legislation be drawn up to rename it the ‘Coon Cage Eight.’ And not at all because of its eight superefficient cylinders, nor because of the lean, springing strength and beauty of its general outlines. Not at all, but because it has now become such a common sight to see eight or more of our darker brethren crowded together enjoying its power, its beauty, its neo-pagan comfort, while weaving recklessly through the streets of our great cities and along our superhighways. In fact, gentlemen, I was run off the road, forced into a ditch by such a power-drunk group just the other day.
    “Let us keep an eye on the outrages committed by the citizens whom I’ve just described, for perhaps therein lies a secret brightness, a clue. Perhaps the essence of their untamed and assertive willfulness, their crass and jazzy defiance of good taste and the harsh, immutable laws of economics, lies in their faith in the flexible soundness of the nation.
    “Yes”—the Senator smiled, nodding his head with mock Elizabethan swagger—“methinks there is much mystery here. But one mystery at a time, I say. In the meantime, let us seek brightness in darkness and hope in despair. Let us remind ourselves that we were not designated the supine role of passive slave to the past. Ours is the freedom and obligation to be ever the fearless creators of ourselves, the reconstructors of the world. We were created to be Adamic definers, namers and shapers of yet undiscovered secrets of the universe!
    “Therefore let the doubters doubt, let the faint of heart turn pale. We move toward the fulfillment of our nation’s demand for citizen-individualists possessing