As Americans observed and celebrated Black History Month, the quotations of many black authors adorned the Facebook feeds and Instagram stories of both our neo-conservative and liberally-minded friends and relatives. Even the most stalwart Republicans loved to post quotes from MLK, as they continue to whitewash his legacy and downplay his socialist leanings for the sake of a good “I Have a Dream'' quote (typically taking out of context the “not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character” line to get a good soundbite against what they perceive as a hyper-fixation on race from the Left ). Many children will learn about Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman in their history class, while some fresh-eyed college-aged radicals will just be discovering the works of Baldwin and Fanon.

Yet, this literary legacy would be incomplete without acknowledging the work of W.E.B. Du Bois. While most of those who have already read Du Bois have likely encountered his famous works such as The Souls of Black Folk (1903) and Black Reconstruction in America (1935), many might miss an important work that serves as a vital bridge to connect the progression of his thought between these two volumes. This book, titled Darkwater: Voices from Within the Veil, illustrates Du Bois at a crucial point in his career as he slowly transitions from a purely sociological scholar to a scholar-activist with some socialist sympathies. In this series of autobiographical essays, short stories, and poems, Du Bois grapples with issues of colonization, racism, gender discrimination, poverty, inadequate standards and access to education, and more. 

Overview:

Darkwater consists of a series of essays followed by a short piece of creative fiction. Each essay addresses a different aspect of life in early 20th century America, as Du Bois works to uncover, uproot, and build solidarity against the deeply entrenched systems of white supremacy that permeate not only American society but globally as well in his effort to fight for civil rights. During this point in Dou Bois’ career, he was already over 50 years old and had achieved several impressive accomplishments. He had helped to found the NAACP and was serving as the editor of its magazine, The Crisis (currently the longest-running Black-oriented magazine in circulation). He had traveled across America and abroad, attending conferences and talks for the Pan-African Movement and serving as a prominent leader in the Niagara Movement (which he recounts in his essay, “The Shadow of Years”). Through his public disagreements with Booker T. Washington and Marcus Garvey, Du Bois had established himself as one of the foremost Black activists for the struggle for racial equality in the early twentieth century.

Published in 1920, this work shows Du Bois writing in the wake of the First World War. Against the dominant narratives during the time regarding the cause of the war, Du Bois, in his famous essay “The Souls of White Folk,” posits that the conflict should be viewed through the lens of imperialism and colonialism, as different countries competed to plunder the African continent of its labor and resources. With deep acuity and succinct prose, Du Bois writes, “It was this competition for the labor of yellow, brown, and black folks that was the cause of the World War. Other causes have been glibly given and other contributing causes there doubtless were, but they were subsidiary and subordinate to this vast quest of the dark world’s wealth and toil” (25). This insight serves as a key early text for understanding how racism and imperialism undergird and support the capitalist system. 

Likewise, in “The Hands of Ethiopia,” Du Bois takes on the European nations as they continue to colonize and economically exploit Africa. By utilizing socio-economic data, Du Bois recounts the abuses that the European nations have wrought upon the African continent, and calls for a self-governing, independent African state. As an advocate for Pan African Nationalism, Du Bois believed that a thoroughly modernized, united, and free Black Africa, which would be achieved through education and political independence, would be the primary way to overcome oppressive systems of colonization not only in the West but also around the world.

Du Bois follows this essay with a short work of fiction, titled “The Princess of the Hinther Isles.” Here, Du Bois tells the story of a young white princess who falls in love with a black beggar, rips her heart out to be with him, is dismembered by her father for insisting on their interracial relationship, and then chooses to jump into the dark chasm of nothingness that separates her and her lover. As such, through the utilization of miscegenation as a central theme, the story serves as a dark satire of the self-destructive nature of colonialism and racism. This is a theme that would be repeated later in Du Bois’ fictional piece, “The Comet.” 

In Du Bois’ post-apocalyptic work of speculative fiction, “The Comet,” nearly the entire population of New York City is wiped out after the citizens inhale the toxic fumes that follow the tail of a passing comet. Only two survivors remain in the city: a black man named Jim who survived because he happened to be retrieving documents down in an underground vault for his bosses, and a wealthy white woman named Julia who unwittingly survived as she developed photographs in a darkroom. They travel together to Harlem and attempt to make a phone call, but cannot reach anyone outside of the city. The destruction of the city (and the resulting dissolution of social norms) allows Jim and Julia to see beyond their race and class distinctions as they bond through their shared grief.

Slowly, the couple turns their thoughts toward procreating to save the human race and create a new world free from prejudice and racism. Before the couple can consummate their newfound relationship, however, they are interrupted by a group of people searching for survivors. These rescuers include Julia’s father and fiancé, who, upon seeing her with Jim, fear that he has raped her. They threaten to lynch Jim, but Julia intercedes and attests to his virtue. This causes the men to calm their murderous passions, and they quickly give Jim a small monetary compensation before leaving with Julia, who can no longer even look at Jim. The story ends with Jim’s wife approaching him from the crowd of rescuers, as she carries the corpse of their son. Here, the racial and social inequalities are reestablished and reified and the tale ends on a somber note, as the loss of the son symbolically portends a dark future for the wider black population. 

Du Bois writes about more than just the black experience; he also casts his eye on other marginalized groups and social issues of the early 20th century. In another chapter titled “The Damnation of Women,” Du Bois addresses the labor of women in the domestic sphere, within churches, and in the workplace. By recounting the numerous injustices against women (specifically women of color), Du Bois argues for the economic independence of women, as well as the right for women to have total control over their reproductive rights. In the essay, Du Bois utilizes the personal stories of Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, and Mary Ann Shadd and employs sociological data to celebrate the accomplishments of black women and argue for women’s rights. Accordingly, even if written by a man, this essay can be considered one of the first proto-feminist texts which also highlights the particular importance of black women in the emancipation of all peoples. 

In addition to his advocacy for women, Du Bois also discusses inequality within the education system. He starts the essay by giving a deep and heartfelt eulogy to his friend, the black composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor. He uses the immense achievements of Coleridge-Taylor’s life to emphasize the role of education in determining outcomes of individuals and how difficult it is for black people (who have been largely relegated to poverty) to get access to quality education. He contemplates how to introduce children to the reality of racism and how education can be used as more than merely a tool for industrial productivity. Following an idea he had advocated earlier in his life called “The Talented Tenth,” Du Bois writes that the black population can rise through the socio-economic ladder with classical training and education. By providing universal education regardless of means, Du Bois believed that the divisions and oppression that we see in the world can be gradually eradicated. 

In “Of Work and Wealth” and “The Servant in the House,” Du Bois gives a critique of the economic instability and exploitation of labor inherent within the capitalist system. In “Of the Ruling of Men,” he connects these struggles to the question of democracy. In a lyrical and philosophical reflection titled “Of Beauty and Death,” Du Bois contrasts the ugliness of the social order of Jim Crow America with the vast beauty found in the natural world. Through all of these essays, both in content and in form, Du Bois consistently places the reader on both sides of the Veil, as he recognizes the sort of double-consciousness that African Americans have to live with and the existential suffering that it causes. Additionally, Du Bois incisively challenges the wide-ranging forms of exploitation and inequality in early 20th century American society. By describing the experiences not only of African Americans, but of women, children, and the working poor as well, Darkwater aims to give voice to those who remain oppressed by institutional barriers and hidden from popular discourse. 

Commendations: 

As opposed to his more famous works, The Souls of Black Folk (1903) and Black Reconstruction in America (1935), Darkwater (1920) is often an overlooked and understudied work by Du Bois. By examining this intermediary and experimental work, we as readers can witness Du Bois as he navigates a pivotal and transitional stage in his thinking and writing. As such, Du Bois takes advantage of the experimental structure of this book to place sociological and autobiographical essays next to pieces of speculative and creative fiction. 

The result of such a maneuver is a carefully-crafted arrangement that holds equal echoes of both beauty and rage. Du Bois’s poetry and prose often hold faint hints of religious and mythic undertones, as each piece of fiction can be viewed as a kind of response to the call initiated by the preceding essay. Therefore, each piece works to affirm the other, which makes for a compelling and fascinating read. The short stories are often reminiscent of parables, and his famous Credo takes the form of a religious recitation, which underscores the emancipatory potential of faith. 

These religious themes appear again most prominently in his piece of speculative science-fiction, “The Comet.” In this apocalyptic vision, Du Bois writes two characters who, presumably being the last two humans alive on Earth, eventually come to see beyond their racial differences and contemplate their role in repopulating the Earth. Through this cleansing catastrophe, this interracial Edenic couple (and their subsequent children) are set to become the inheritors of a new Earth, one in which the curse of racism is wiped out through an apocalyptic event. Yet, this mythic origin story is proven to be only an illusory dream, as the couple is interrupted by the racist accusations of other men, and Jim is confronted with his wife and dead son. Here, Du Bois is experimenting with the apocalyptic science-fiction genre. This work is a phenomenal example of early Afro-Futurism, and I kept thinking of the later writings of Octavia Butler and Toni Morrison as I was reading Du Bois’ fiction. 

Du Bois’ beautifully poetic prose, when combined with his incisive commentary of early 20th-century social issues, makes Darkwater a deeply raw and emotionally powerful read. Deeply affected by the lynching of black Americans in the South and the legacy of the First World War, Du Bois writes with a tone of bitterness and melancholy that is tinged with an urgent yearning for a better world. This is also deeply apparent in his analysis of the horrors of World War I, the main driver of which, he argues, is colonialism. Du Bois strikes a delicate balance between frustration and hope as he combines the insights of his life with the pressing issues of racial, gender, and economic inequality of the early 20th century. 

Many of these ideas remain incredibly progressive, especially when considering the era in which Du Bois was writing. His chapter on the subordination of women and their right to political and economic independence is a striking example of how Du Bois was a writer far ahead of his time. Although these essays were published over a century ago, their arguments remain just as relevant today, and serve as a reminder of Du Bois’ pioneering work in the field of sociology, especially concerning race and racism in America. 

Du Bois does not simply end his analysis on issues of particularist identity. Rather, he also writes extensively on income inequality and the fight for the universal. Here, Du Bois takes an intersectional approach as he analyzes the connections between economic exploitation, gender, and racism. He also gives insights that are prescient in the field of psychoanalysis, especially regarding the roles of envy and jouissance in the social sphere, as he writes “Most men today cannot conceive of a freedom that does not involve somebody’s slavery. They do not want equality because the thrill of their happiness comes from having things that others have not” (121). 

Here, in a preview of his later socialist leanings, Du Bois deftly connected the lack of democracy in the workplace to the growing inequality that pervaded early 20th-century society. He connects the plight of the working class to the racial attitudes of the time, where even workers unions did not always extend their efforts to Black, Asian, or Native American workers. This focus makes Darkwater an essential read for anyone who wants to understand Du Bois’ shifting patterns of thought through the later part of his life. 

Critique: 

When reviewing a historical work (especially one that is over a century old), the reviewer has a distinct advantage over the one being reviewed: the benefit of hindsight. On the other hand, a particular difficulty for the reviewer is also fully understanding the context in which the book was being written and assessing its legacy in light of the past one hundred years. In the case of Darkwater, Du Bois was writing in the shadow of the First World War and Reconstruction Era America. As such, for the casual reader, one might be a little bit lost if they have no background in the debates and discourses around race, gender, and colonialism in the early 20th century. When one adds the varied genres that Du Bois employs (some of which are more effective than others), Darkwater can easily become a bit of a disjointed and fragmented read on the first pass-through.

Taking into account the debates and disagreements that Du Bois had with Booker T. Washington and Marcus Garvey, we see Du Bois continuing some of his signature ideas here in Darkwater. Most notably in “The Immortal Child,” Du Bois utilizes the remarkable life of his friend Samuel Coleridge-Taylor to advocate for the education of black children. Following his formal education at Harvard, Du Bois believed that classical education was the primary tool for bringing the black population out of the trenches of poverty and that the most talented tenth of the black population needed to put their ambitions aside and become directly involved in this social change. As opposed to the industrial education that Booker T. Washington advocated, Du Bois believed that the political leadership of a few exceptional men would help to make black Americans more upwardly mobile on the social and economic ladder. 

This view has been met with a mixed reception over the years for its myopic scope in regards to gender, its focus on top-down change, and issues of accessibility to higher education. Du Bois himself even revised this concept later in his life, taking into account the importance of grassroots organizing. In this work, however, Du Bois’ class analysis is slightly lacking, as he is just beginning to warm up to the ideas of socialism. By highlighting the particular achievements and talents of the individual within a capitalist society, Du Bois also runs the risk of basing his advocacy for the equal rights of the black population on their potential to be productive and contribute to the market. While Du Bois is usually careful to highlight the inherent dignity and humanity of the subjects he’s writing about, he also at times can reduce individuals down to purely economic actors. 

In a similar vein, while his writing on women is remarkably progressive for his time, he also tends to depict interracial relationships in a one-dimensional way. While I was reading Darkwater, I was also reading Franz Fanon’s Black Skin, White Masks (review coming soon). In several parts throughout the book, Fanon deconstructs and analyzes the various power dynamics and psychological implications of heterosexual interracial relationships, both with black men/white women and white men/black women pairings. 

As such, when reading through Darkwater, I found it interesting that whenever interracial relationships are depicted (namely, in “The Princess of the Hinther Isles” and “The Comet”), Du Bois limits these relationships to the white woman/black man dynamic. While Du Bois undoubtedly supports the economic and social independence of women throughout this text (and specifically of black women), the exclusion of black female sexuality in his fiction is striking. The black woman in “The Comet” is only present in the story once the possibility for an interracial sexual liaison has been denied for her husband. Again to be sure, Du Bois’ inclusion of a social taboo such as an interracial relationship during the 1920s is, in itself, a remarkable challenge to the traditional, racially homogeneous relationships of the early 20th century. His recognition and support of women during this time are without a doubt to be commended. Yet, it seems that at least in his fiction, black women have an incredibly limited sexual agency, if not absent altogether. 

Finally, as I mentioned at the beginning of my critique, one of the inevitable risks that any author faces is the potential that one’s assessment of the current moment could age poorly as history reveals itself. In this case, Du Bois’ hope for international solidarity of colored people, while admirable, also led him to make a few missteps in judgment, particularly the imperialism of Japan. In the interwar period, Du Bois and other black nationalists saw Japan as an “empire of colored people” that successfully fought back against European expansion. Du Bois saw this as an opportunity to develop a transpacific coalition between the struggle of black Americans for equality and the successes of the Japanese empire. 

Yet, Du Bois and other anti-colonialist black thinkers and activists found themselves in a paradoxical bind: these anti-imperialist intellectuals supported an imperialist regime that sought to conquer, occupy, and colonize the Korean peninsula, Manchuria, and Southeast Asia. In his effort to build a transpacific solidarity movement, Du Bois and other thinkers of the time overlooked the actual effects of Japanese imperialism of the early 20th century. In their zeal to look for positive examples of people of color fighting against European expansion, they made strange and unfortunate bedfellows with an oppressive and imperialist regime. This example highlights the shortcomings of prioritizing identity and ideology over the actual material conditions of those who are suffering and oppressed on the ground. It also shows that even writers as prolific and important as Du Bois can make missteps in the course of history. This is especially true for Du Bois, whose life spanned nearly an entire century and whose thinking constantly changed throughout his life. 

Conclusion: 

Overall, Darkwater serves as an immensely important snapshot into Du Bois’ sociological and political project in the interwar period. Alternating between socio-political essays, poems, and creative fiction, Du Bois weaves together a challenging, yet immensely rewarding and beautiful work. Through all of these essays, Du Bois challenges the dominant oppressive social and political structures of his time, including racism in Jim Crow America, colonialism, patriarchy, and wealth inequality.

Just like any other historical figure, Du Bois was a complicated and ever-changing thinker. He led a prolific life that spanned from just two years after the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment and the official end of slavery in America (1868) to the day before the March on Washington and MLK’s “I Have a Dream” speech (1963). While far from perfect, Du Bois continued to refine and shift his thought as he witnessed new developments in the world around him, making him a dynamic and endlessly interesting figure to study. Time and again, Du Bois proves to be an essential read for anyone who hopes to study sociology, politics, and the development of black thought in American society, and Darkwater is an underrated, yet fantastic place to start.