Page 84 - BLACK SKIN, WHITE MASK

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THE MAN OF COLOR AND THE

WHITE WOMAN

Out of the blackest part of my soul, across the zebra striping of
my mind, surges this desire to be suddenly white.
I wish to be acknowledged not as black but as white.
Now—and this is a form of recognition that Hegel had not
envisaged—who but a white woman can do this for me? By loving
me she proves that I am worthy of white love. I am loved like a
white man.
I am a white man.
Her love takes me onto the noble road that leads to total
realization. . . .
I marry white culture, white beauty, white whiteness.
When my restless hands caress those white breasts, they grasp
white civilization and dignity and make them mine.
Some thirty years ago, a coal-black Negro, in a Paris bed with a
“maddening” blonde, shouted at the moment of orgasm, “Hurrah
for Schoelcher!” When one recalls that it was Victor Schoelcher
who persuaded the Third Republic to adopt the decree abolishing
slavery, one understands why it is necessary to elaborate somewhat
on the possible aspects of relations between black men and white
women.
It will be argued that this little tale is not authenticated; but
simply that it could be born and survive through the years is an
indication: It is no fallacy. For the anecdote renews a confl ict that,
active or dormant, is always real. Its persistence attests to the
black world’s endorsement. To say it another way, when a story

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