A History of the African-American People (Proposed) by Strom Thurmond (17 page)

I tell you this because I have nowhere else to turn. You see, he wants me to meet him again in two weeks. He wanted to do it immediately, but I invented obligations to my sister—like I’d ever really want to see her!—but couldn’t postpone things any longer than two weeks. What should I do? Can you help me by inviting Wilkes to come out there for a two-month stay or something—you know, get material for this fucking book? Short of that, can you advise me? You know him and may be aware of the terrifying power he can exert. I am not ordinarily impressionable, but this is different. If he has another go at me, I am not sure what I might do or what shreds of self I may be left with.

Help me and maybe I can return the favor. Perhaps I can use whiteout and change the figures on your contract, for instance? I’m up to anything.

O
FFICE OF
S
ENATOR
S
TROM
T
HURMOND
217 R
USSELL
S
ENATE
B
UILDING
W
ASHINGTON
, D.C. 20515

November 18, 2002

Dear Percival and James, James and Percival, Jacival and Perames,

Martin Snell, who is a caution don’t you think?, sent along to me your letter of November 10. In that letter, you (which of you? both?) raised points of clarification—don’t you love people who raise their hands in meetings and say “point of clarification” when what they really want to do is get their two cents worth in and achieve anything but clarity? But your points of clarification really deserve a careful review and, as you are saying right about now, responses that drill right to the mother lode.

You see, I know you better than you suppose, know and sympathize. But I have trouble keeping you apart. You are two separate people, right? One of you writes and the other grubs facts? But which of you thinks? I don’t mean that as an insult exactly. It would help if you answered my previous question: which of you is black? I ask not because I assume that knowing race I would know all. I wouldn’t be the one to suppose that if Kincaid were black, for instance, he would be able to play for the Washington Wizards (a basketball team), that he would have children scattered all over the West Coast, or that he would have a huge dangler of a tommywhocker. Nor, to continue this, would I assume that Everett, if white, would be insecure, inept on the court, and hardly able to find his equipment when doing the old hobble and gobble.

I am, you see, no racist. None of my best friends are black, but that’s a matter of accident and what you might call geography. The black people who are in my immediate world, that is the Senator’s office, are numerous but not quite my thing, if you follow me. Were they the right thing, they would, some of them, be my best friends. I thought perhaps Juniper McCloud, who works for that Snell person, was black. But I’ve seen him and he is not. Well, to be honest, I never supposed he was. “Stop dissembling, Bub!”

But if I knew which of you was black—you couldn’t send photos, could you?—I could form a mental picture. Once I have a mental picture, that’s all I need. I dwell on it and I know. Are you aware, either of you (perhaps the fact-finding one?) that Thomas Carlyle wrote his celebrated lectures “On Heroes and Hero Worship” by gazing at pictures of heroes like Cromwell and Luther (not exactly a hero in my view) and Napoleon (who is to argue with that choice?) and letting his mind burrow into the soul of the image? Then he wrote. Just wrote from inside. He didn’t do mundane research; he stared and depended on his own inner resources to supply the rest. Did you know that? Anyhow, that is the process I would like to follow with you two, Percival and James. Hey, do you have nicknames? Should I create nicknames of my own? I mean, Percy and Jim, which is likely what you have now, don’t inspire much soul-gazing, now do they?

I suggest Spike and Panda.

So, without knowing exactly whom I am addressing, but still knowing what I know, I will move to your concerns. I gather that your concerns fall into three areas:

—the form, that is, what kind of history is it?

—the position to take, that is, how political is it and what is the political brand?

—the flow of information and authority, that is, who feeds whom?

In order:

—My view is that it should be a rather informal history, factually accurate without being dull. It should be relatively discontinuous, not concerned with filling in every little nook and cranny, but concentrating on those areas the Senator regards as vital, which are generally those in which he has played a part. It should emphasize the Senator’s role in the shaping of this country and the strong position now enjoyed by African American people. In that sense, it is what we might call a history of a man, which enfolds the history of a race, which charts the history of a country. I have no objection if you use that sentence early on in the book to explain what it is, though of course I expect full credit.

—Politics will play a part. I don’t want you telling me that there is no such thing as objectivity, since I’ve heard all that post-structuralist stuff and heartily embrace it. Of course the history will be political, through and through. The Senator is, as you know, a Republican, was the leader of the powerful third party movement in the 40s, and was previously a Democrat. But it’s not politics in the sense of party that we’re talking about. You don’t need to tell me that. I know it. We are talking more about what I like to call “ideology,” and that is harder to get at and more pervasive. The Senator’s ideology is, for the time being, my own. That is a bald statement but true, which leads us to—

—the question of the flow of information. Since I have adopted the same set of assumptions and operating procedures (that’s what “ideology” means) as the Senator, there really is, as I keep saying, no need to getting panty-wads over dealing with me. I don’t
represent
him. I AM he, in this sense, the only sense that, one might say, makes sense for us. Of course our experiences have been different and our life spans vary considerably, as do our families, hobbies, and taste in modes of outdoor recreation. Still, when it comes to writing a history of the African-American people, as an overflow of the Senator’s life and times, I think you will get from me exactly what you would get from him. I have tried to be patient on this point, but I do not know how many different ways I can say this and do hope this is the last time we will have to do karate chops on the loins of this tiresome subject.

Not wanting to ignore anything in your letter, from the most important obfuscation to the faintest whine, I move now to the questions you raise about the materials I have been kindly supplying you. It seems that you—both of you? just the white one?—resent what you regard as “writing exercises,” as if I were a high-school composition teacher and you were both 16-year-old studs in low-slung baggy pants with your undies showing above. Please understand that these materials are just that—materials for the history. They are not meant as a test. If it helps, I am willing to say that I trust you—either or both of you—to know what you are doing as regards research and writing a rough draft. Polishing is another matter, but we’ll even waive that for now.

So, do know and wholeheartedly believe that I am not testing you. Find calm and peace and stop fretting. Go to a Japanese garden if there is one close or, if not, buy yourselves two of those little gray sand things that come in a box and are complete with the tiny rakey wooden scratchers and take them home and make lines and curvy patterns. Very restful, I hear. If you cannot afford two, buy one and share. I think, though, they are quite reasonable. You do have Japanese where you live, if I’m not mistaken. Tidy people.

Don’t forget the photos and try to find happiness. Do you two take Thanksgiving dinner together?

Love,
Baabaa

F
ROM THE
D
ESK OF
P
ERCIVAL
E
VERETT

November 20, 2002

Jim:

Well, the mails are working fast—or Wilkes misdated his letter. You got it too, right? And the one from Martin? And the one from McCloud?

I hope you aren’t all red in the face and yelling. Assume that I share your feelings on all this, which relieves both of us from exposing them.

Martin’s letter we should ignore, I think, as it tells us nothing.

Wilkes’s letter, if you look close and stop fuming, is by far the clearest thing we’ve gotten. It isn’t clear at all, you’ll say, and that’s true. But compared to what he spread on us before, it’s heavenly sunshine. Besides, don’t you think it’s as good as we’re going to get from him? I’m not saying it gives us an indication of what to do; I’m just saying that there’s no point hammering Wilkes about it. He’s got nothing more to give.

McCloud now. That poor bastard interests me in a petrifying way. Frankly, I’m afraid of him. Why don’t you make him your project? You could handle him in your special way, privately. See if you can rescue him from Wilkes, give him some of your good advice.

Where do we go from here? You don’t want to hear this—but wait. Wait and see. Too bad we aren’t working with McCloud as, hysteric that he is, this weeping child seems to be the steadiest of the lot. But Snell will never loosen his grip on the project and Wilkes will keep doing what he’s doing.

BUT, Jim, there is a publishing house involved. Sooner or later they will sort this out and get us moving. Nothing we can do.

I see you’re strongly in favor of remodeling the faculty lounge. There’s a surprise.

P

Interoffice Memo

November 20, 2002

Percival:

I don’t think you need to take such a patronizing tone with me. I just got your note in my mailbox, and the first thing I noticed: its patronizing tone.

If you’d waited until I wrote to you, you’d have seen that I think we should wait too. I believe I said that some time back, and didn’t need you instructing me. It was my idea to begin with, Polonius!

So we’ll wait.

I’m not ashamed of supporting the idea of shifting money from grad student stipends to give us something decent in the lounge department. I mean, why should grad students live in luxury while faculty have ratty old couches and not enough magazine racks?

You really think I can help McCloud? It was a heartrending letter. He has no place else to turn. OK. I’ll see what I can do, though not for a few days. I have that student hearing, the one who filed a complaint against me that I told you about. Just between us, I may have told that joke in class, but I am confident I can show that only a paranoid witless idiot would regard it as in any way offensive—“racist and obscene,” the student said. My ass!

Jim