Page 183 - BLACK SKIN, WHITE MASK
P. 183

144 BLACK SKIN, WHITE MASKS



                                                always a servant
                                                always obsequious and smiling
                                                me never steal, me never lie
                                                eternally ‘sho’ good eatin’. . . .
                                  The Negro is universalizing himself, but at the Lycée Saint-
                                Louis, in Paris, one was thrown out: He had had the impudence
                                to read Engels.
                                  There is a drama there, and the black intellectuals are running
                                the risk of being trapped by it.
                                  What? I have barely opened eyes that had been blindfolded,
                                and someone already wants to drown me in the universal? What
                                about the others? Those who “have no voice,” those who “have
                                no spokesman.” . . . I need to lose myself in my negritude, to see
                                the fi res, the segregations, the repressions, the rapes, the discrimi-
                                nations, the boycotts. We need to put our fi ngers on every sore
                                that mottles the black uniform.
                                  One can already imagine Alioune Diop wondering what place
                                the black genius will have in the universal chorus. It is my belief
                                that a true culture cannot come to life under present conditions.
                                It will be time enough to talk of the black genius when the man
                                has regained his rightful place.
                                  Once again I come back to Césaire; I wish that many black
                                intellectuals would turn to him for their inspiration. I must repeat
                                to myself too: “And more than anything, my body, as well as
                                my soul, do not allow yourself to cross your arms like a sterile
                                spectator, for life is not a spectacle, for a sea of sorrows is not a
                                stage, for a man who cries out is not a dancing bear. . . .”
                                  Continuing to take stock of reality, endeavoring to ascertain the
                                instant of symbolic crystallization, I very naturally found myself
                                on the threshold of Jungian psychology. European civilization
                                is characterized by the presence, at the heart of what Jung calls
                                the collective unconscious, of an archetype: an expression of
                                the bad instincts, of the darkness inherent in every ego, of the
                                uncivilized savage, the Negro who slumbers in every white man.
                                And Jung claims to have found in uncivilized peoples the same
                                psychic structure that his diagram portrays. Personally, I think








                                                                                         4/7/08   14:16:53
                        Fanon 01 text   144                                              4/7/08   14:16:53
                        Fanon 01 text   144
   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   188