So Much History

CLAUDE McKAY

Poet, novelist, and journalist, Festus Claudius McKay was born in Sunny Ville, Clarendon Parish, Jamaica, on September 15, 1889. As a young child, Claude McKay received a background in both classical and British literature and philosophy. Before too long he began to write poems in traditional forms. He read widely, including works of science and literature. In 1907 McKay came to the attention of Walter Jekyll, an English gentleman residing in Jamaica who became his mentor, encouraging him to write dialect verse. Jekyll later set some of McKay’s verse to music. Before going to the U.S. in 1912, he wrote two volumes of Jamaican dialect verse, "Songs of Jamaica" and "Constab Ballads" (1912).

Claude McKay moved from his native Jamaica to the United States to study agriculture, but instead, cultivated a passion for poetry, he was 23 years old. Having heard favorable reports of the work of Booker T. Washington, McKay enrolled at Tuskegee Institute in Alabama. He soon left Tuskegee Institute (1912) for Kansas State Teachers College in Manhattan, Kansas. At Kansas State, he read W.E.B Du Bois' The Souls of Black Folk, which had a major impact on him and stirred his political involvement. In 1914 a financial gift from Jekyll enabled him to move to the Harlem district of New York City, where he contributed regularly to "The Liberator", then a leading journal of avant-garde politics and art.

McKay published two poems in 1917 in The Seven Arts under the pseudonym Eli Edwards. During the period of racial violence against Blacks known as the Red Summer of 1919, McKay wrote one of his best-known poems, the sonnet, "If We Must Die," which contributed to the Harlem Renaissance. "If We Must Die," which threatened retaliation for racial prejudice and abuse quickly became McKay's best-known piece of work. “Baptism,” “The White House,” and “The Lynching,” all sonnets, also exemplify some of McKay’s finest protest poetry. The generation of poets who formed the core of the Harlem Renaissance, including Langston Hughes and Countée Cullen, identified McKay as a leading inspirational force.

It was in 1919 that McKay traveled to London and began two years of European travel. There, he spent a lot of time at the International Club. While in England, he was employed by the British socialist Sylvia Pankhurst’s journal, "The Workers’ Drednought". McKay then published a book of verse, "Spring in New Hampshire", which was released in an expanded version in the United States in 1922. With the publication of two volumes of poetry, "Spring in New Hampshire" (1920) and "Harlem Shadows" (1922), McKay emerged as the first and most militant voice of the Harlem Renaissance.

If we must die—let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accursed lot.

If we must die—oh, let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!

Oh, Kinsmen! We must meet the common foe;
Though far outnumbered, let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow!

What though before us lies the open grave?
Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

-By Claude McKay

I hear the halting footsteps of a lass
        In Negro Harlem when the night lets fall
Its veil. I see the shapes of girls who pass
        To bend and barter at desire’s call.
Ah, little dark girls who in slippered feet
Go prowling through the night from street to street!
 
Through the long night until the silver break
        Of day the little gray feet know no rest;
Through the lone night until the last snow-flake
        Has dropped from heaven upon the earth’s white breast,
The dusky, half-clad girls of tired feet
Are trudging, thinly shod, from street to street.
 
Ah, stern harsh world, that in the wretched way
        Of poverty, dishonor and disgrace,
Has pushed the timid little feet of clay,
        The sacred brown feet of my fallen race!
Ah, heart of me, the weary, weary feet
In Harlem wandering from street to street.
 
-By Claude McKay
Your door is shut against my tightened face,
And I am sharp as steel with discontent;
But I possess the courage and the grace
To bear my anger proudly and unbent.
The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet,
And passion rends my vitals as I pass,
A chafing savage, down the decent street;
 
Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass.
Oh, I must search for wisdom every hour,
Deep in my wrathful bosom sore and raw,
And find in it the superhuman power
To hold me to the letter of your law!
Oh, I must keep my heart inviolate
Against the potent poison of your hate.
 
– By Claude McKay
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