Casual notes on show-biz books, memoirs and studies, dust gatherers, and hot off the presses.
Book Review by Samuel L. Leiter . . . .
Martin Bauml Duberman, Paul Robeson (New York: Knopf, 1989). 804pp.
9th Edition
Recently, creeping progress through the still unread books on my overflowing shelves brought me to historian Martin Bauml Duberman’s remarkably detailed biography of the distinguished Paul Robeson. Just holding this heavy, hardcover book for the two weeks it took to get through it increased the muscle mass in my arms; it also filled my brain with more information than I thought it could handle. Most important, it never flagged in interest as it told, with granular particularity, the fascinating life story of Robeson (1898-1976), the African American son of a former slave, who became one of the great representatives of his race during an astonishing career as an All-American football star (at Rutgers), professional athlete, lawyer (given up early on), singer, actor, and leftwing civil activist.
His participation in groups associated with the Communist Party, however, led to his eventually being hounded by the FBI, and even the withdrawal for some years of his passport, preventing him from pursuing his career abroad, where he was in great demand even as his American supporters fell away. His refusal to admit to Communist Party membership, or to sign a loyalty oath to the USA—on principle, as an affront to his Constitutional rights—created havoc with his life until he was finally persuaded to sign an oath.
This huge book, which is practically two in one—550 pages of closely printed biography, plus 250 or so pages of backmatter, much of the latter consisting of double-columned endnotes that often go on for several pages each. Summing up this magnificent tome would require far too many words, so I’ll say only that the book provides not only a brilliantly researched, chronological account of Robeson’s amazing life, but also a great deal about his awesome wife, writer and activist Eslanda (Essie) Robeson, on whom he often cheated and from whom he was frequently estranged, yet never divorced.
The book provides not only an incisive overview of the civil rights movements of the 20th century, but also of Robeson’s theatrical, film, recording, and concert work, with much attention to his groundbreaking stage roles in The Emperor Jones, All God’s Chillun Got Wings, Show Boat, and Othello, and too many others to mention. His appearance opposite white actresses like Peggy Ashcroft and Uta Hagen, with both of whom—especially the latter—he had serious affairs, was extremely controversial at a time when spouses or lovers of different races were rarely played by racially different actors.
The account of his surveillance by the FBI because of his allegedly subversive beliefs will make you cringe when you read how easily anyone who held what we now consider standard progressive ideas—anti-lynching, anti-colonialism, antiracism, and the like—was immediately labeled a communist or Marxist, even though they loved and supported America and had no desire to overthrow the government in favor of a communist regime. Come to think of it, nothing has really changed since idiots like MTG still throw such accusations around as if they knew what they were talking about.
On the other hand, Robeson’s failure to admit that his fondness for the USSR—he even learned Russian—was problematic and did him no favors; even Khrushchev’s exposure of Stalin’s crimes failed to sway him. Those who believe that Robeson, who spent long periods of time in the Soviet Union, actually left America to live there, will learn that wasn’t the case. He remained an American citizen and died in this country.
I’ve already said more than I intended about this very well-illustrated book, but that’s the kind of book it is. I’ve had it for well over 30 years and I’m glad I finally got to read it.
Next up: Bryan Cranston, A Life in Parts
Leiter Looks at Books welcomes inquiries from publishers and authors interested in having their theater/show business-related books reviewed.
