Black Noir

I cannot say I am an avid reader. I never find myself reading for enjoyment or just for the sake of reading. So, when I do read, which is often for class, I find myself reading and searching for a purpose, which is how I have approached this class and more specifically Trick Baby. I have a hard time believing that this book is just a story, not meant to be analyzed and dissected with the goal of understanding some deeper meaning or commentary on society.

Trick Baby touches on a lot of important topics, such as the intersection of the LGBTQ+ community and the black community, the role of one’s racial identity, as well as the long-lasting effects of one’s childhood and upbringing These are intriguing topics that could be seen as an examination of life or possibly one variation of the black experience.

I have found when reading these books which we have deemed to be under the genre of “black noir” that I have been reading these books and trying to establish a connection to my own life. I think this is because these works all take place in recent history, so there is somewhat of a sense of familiarity with the subject matter, especially when there is a larger diversity of characters, which is more reflective of current society. Although the story of White Folks isn’t the most identifiable, at least to me, I am finding there are still elements of the book in which the reader can identify with the story or the character, and I think that is what makes books appealing. Regardless of if this was the intention of Iceberg Slim, I think there is value in examining books, especially one’s like Trick Baby both in the context of our own lives and society. Even with works like The Maltese Falcon where the material seems so distant, we are still given a glimpse into life in San Francisco in the 1920s and the way in which society functions, especially in relation to the treatment of women and minorities.

While many of these works may be written for the sake of entertainment and sales, I think there is something to be lost if we do not examine these works which have been imbued with meaning, either by the reader or by the author themselves, and it’s important to recognize that. I took the Basics of Film Television, and Theatre my sophomore year at Notre Dame and one of the first things we learned is that nothing in a film is done unintentionally, and I think that applies to books as well. These important topics in Trick Baby, which may be in the background of the plot and somewhat masked by the “sleaze” as Nishikawa puts it in his chapter, are still worthy of discussion and serve a purpose beyond just moving the plot along. They are there to foster discussion, to draw the reader’s attention to a problem they weren’t yet aware of, or prompt them to sit with these topics and think about them in relation to their own life. If books are art, then they have meaning and are meant to be examined as such, even Trick Baby.

As our class has made the full transition away from the more classical noir novels involving some form of mystery to be uncovered by the reader, often alongside a detective main character, I have done my best to come up with an expanded idea of noir, and a fresh perspective on the value of one person’s life story of itself. With both of these goals in mind I have begun to come to what I believe is a fuller understanding of the general thesis for this course itself, and of what it means for a story to be told simply for the sake of the story itself. After careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that both of these aspects of my thought process are intertwined. That is, I think that the idea for this course and the book list rely heavily on the fact that one’s life story, of itself, has value and can pick up on thematic points that are often purposefully and skillfully made opaque by pure fiction writers. Take, for example, the work of Dashiell Hammett; Hammett was a writer whose fiction had a clear plot line with thematic underpinnings that are generally only hinted at a few of which are that there is a coded gay character (perhaps two) and that there are foreigners at work in the novel often driving the most nefarious aspects of the story. Hammett does not explicitly discuss homosexuality, but perhaps there is insight to be gained from how the likely homosexual character is described and treated in the book. On this account, there can be multiple interpretations for said character since, first of all, his homosexuality is not explicitly mentioned, and, second of all, different readers may focus on different aspects of his character in relation to his homosexuality. Furthermore, with the characters who all have foreign names and come from different places, like Bridget O’Shaughnessy, the reader is left to decide for themselves what Hammett may be trying to say about foreigners in general. The point here is that we have grown accustomed to literature showing and not telling, lending itself to myriad interpretations that foster discussion and debate.

A novel like Trick Baby, in contrast, does a lot of showing and telling. Picking up on the common thread of homosexuality, we see very clearly in Chapter 10 the topic discussed and argued about. There is no coding, there is no opacity. The text is see-through and it is jarring for readers (at least for me as a reader) because it almost feels as if our job has been done for us. At first glance, if there is no interpreting for the reader to do, it feels as if there is there anything at all for us to do. It was at this seeming dead end, though, that I began to realize something that I know to be true outside of formal English classes – there is inherent value in a life story. Especially when the story revolves around someone as lowly as White Folks is, the reader’s job becomes less about interpreting and more about simply learning from the story. Perhaps different people will connect with different parts of the memoir-like story that White Folks gives, but nonetheless we can use our gut reactions to his story to learn something about ourselves and the nature of the story. For example, when White Folks describes the altercation between Midge and Blue over her homosexuality, many modern readers are perhaps repulsed at Blue’s words and feel sympathy for Midge. This simple reaction to the story on the part of a reader helps us realize many things, among which are that not everyone’s views are like our own, not everyone’s experiences are like our own, and perhaps that sometimes people who end up in tough situations end up there by no fault of their own. It may be the case that a reader already recognized all of these things, but I am sure that they would still garner something out of listening to another person’s story.

As for the second part of what I discussed earlier regarding how noir relates to the sort of memoir that we get in Trick Baby, I think that it was summed up well in the syllabus: “We shall investigate how the noir genre is altered when “noirs” are the subjects and the authors.” For me, this line gave me the most insight into how this book made it into the book list. While there is no mystery present in the book necessarily, there is darkness, moral ambiguity, and cynicism that is rampant in White Folks’s own life. White Folks himself, then, along with his life story becomes the noir. White Folks’s existence is in the darkness – through no fault of his own he occupies a space of darkness in the world. Such a character is about as classically noir as it can get, but because I am more used to genres being present only in the context of the entirety of the text rather than centralized in a single character through his life’s story, I did not initially understand how this novel was particularly noir. Now, though, having combined the insight of the inherent value in one’s own life story with the idea of noir being the subject/character himself, I feel like I have a firm understanding of the book and how best to read it.

After reading the first part of “Never Die Alone,” it is my favorite novel that we have read so far. The different narratives occurring all at once provide a refreshing new lens to experience the noir genre, and Paul being a writer himself puts a larger emphasis on the storytelling aspect of the novel and the genre itself. Paul’s character intrigued me from the very beginning because his moral principles were obvious. Being the child of a Jewish woman in Nazi Germany, he has suffered one of the most horrible losses a child could, but is nonetheless a very good man. He is the first character we have been introduced to in this class that has a moral compass centered on being a good person rather than gaining the upper hand in life by any means necessary. Framing the narrative in this way opens up the noir world because we are able to view it from a much more relatable character. Not to say these characters are unrelatable, but for a reader, it is easier to enter the world through a character not yet driven to the edge. 

The interweaving stories being told add a mythologizing aspect to the world of pimps and hustlers. There is a question as to whether or not any of these stories are real, and even Paul questions the truth of King David’s words in his diary. People even lie to themselves he finds, when truly alone. As a coping mechanism, King David fantasizes his life into this exciting new world where pushing everyone away wasn’t a mistake to hide the true hurt he is grappling with being alone in this unforgiving society. While not explicitly explored, there is a greater emphasis on the emotional baggage that comes with the life. Mike is tortured by his mother’s beating and cannot move on with his life until achieving vengeance, King David found his success, but had to give up everyone in his life to do so. Paul has a good heart and saves King David from dying alone, but obtains the greater baggage of inheriting his story. As the story goes on, it will be interesting to see how these ideas develop. 

Hands intertwined behind her back, my grandma stares earnestly. It is a white box on the ground, sitting there, seemingly staring back at her.

            Later, my grandma asks what I thought of the box. I tell her honestly that it confused me, that I’d much rather spend my time staring at Degas’ or Halestines’. If we’re going to go to an art museum, then I want to look at real art—real stimulating, beautiful, sophisticated art.

Grandma tries to tell me that the white box sitting on the hardwood floor is art too. I don’t respond.

My mom and I sit uncomfortably as a nearly naked dancer on stage slithers across the floor as a man reads spoken word. She hops and rolls to the ground. She twitches and convulses. She looks as though she’s been possessed.

We share a glance. And after the show’s over, Mom says, “Next time, let’s just go see ABT’s rendition of The Nutcracker.” I agree.

“Art,” to me, has always been entwined with beauty. Art is something that stimulates us, makes us feel something, or transports us to another time and place. Art is not a white box I have seen and ignored before, nor a quivering barefoot dancer. To me, the most attractive pieces of art are those that are beautiful.

After our conversation in class, I began to think about this definition of art within the context of Noir. Professor argues that this is simply a different kind of art—one called “Street literature.” It cannot be compared to Jane Austen or Shakespeare because it does not attempt to be Austen or Shakespeare. It exists entirely within itself.

Trick Baby is based upon the real story of White People’s, or so the story goes. It is crude and explicit in more ways than one; explicit in its graphic nature, and explicit in its obvious and unclouded language. Admittedly, I have grouped this book into a segment of my brain called “Weird Art I Don’t Understand and Probably Won’t Explore Again.” Iceberg Slim’s novel sits alongside the white box, the barefoot dancer, and several poems and songs I can’t make sense of.

As an English major, I am aware that I cannot ignore art that makes me feel uncomfortable. I know that the purpose of an Arts and Letters degree is to broaden my mind.

However, after watching Sweet Sweetback’s Baadassss Song, I did notice that there is a “line” to be crossed, whether we want to admit it or not.

Black Noir is a descent into darkness and it explores raw and graphic truths about the Black community. Because I am reading Black Noir with a background of 13 years of white, Catholic education and morals, it feels strange and crude. But it is still a type of art, albeit not a type I particularly enjoy when it becomes too explicit.

Stories like Trick Baby help expand my definition of art and force me away from my bias towards white morality. However, I keep thinking about the first scene of Sweet Sweetback’s Baadassss Song, which is essentially a rape of a 13 year old boy that may or may not have happened in real life. We all acknowledge that this is immoral, that this scene is not art, and that it is excessively graphic.

However, why do we not apply this same argument (that we cannot impress our white, Christian morality upon a Black piece of art) to this first scene? I argue that there is a distinct line between what is immoral and moral. Discovering this line and adhering to it does not necessarily make us close minded, but instead, makes us equitable.

            I do think that Sweet Sweetback and Trick Baby are a type of art, but not one I would reach for first. However, just because Black Noir embraces the dark, I do not think that it is necessarily wrong to read it with a different set of morals. Black Noir cannot escape interpretations grounded in white morals, nor can it ignore objective immortals.

So I don’t think anything that I am going to say in the week’s post is something that we all haven’t thought about already. As it was pointed out in our last class, the momentum of the conversations has dwindled. The purpose of this blog post is to try to illuminate and put words behind what we are feeling in class to give reason to this “dwindle,” while trying to incorporate what the class readings have to do with it. Please don’t mistake this blog post for putting words in your mouth or thoughts in your head. I am writing this based on my observations and my own opinions. I am aware that our blog posts are meant to reflect Noir but I also think that the health of our conversations is something that should be addressed to keep this class fun and stimulate ideas that can contribute to this study.
This idea right here, trying to contribute to something greater, has to do with the problem. We are placing pressure on ourselves to say something so new, so fresh, and so niche to sound smart. I don’t think its to prove to others that we are brilliant students, but to prove to ourselves that we are capable of keeping up just fine. If we don’t have a new cool idea to share we choose to stay quiet because we were wired to believe that is the only thing that defines our worth as scholars. We shouldn’t have to have this worry just like “Trick Baby” doesn’t need to have a designated purpose. It is enough that we are trying to understand a world that is so different from ours today no matter how explicit. Just like it is enough for “Trick Baby” to just want to be proof of people’s existence.

I am a 2nd year English major so my experience in studying literature doesn’t compare to the seniors in the class pr our wonderful only grad student; however, I think it is fair for me to say that every single one of us, no matter the major and especially when we were in high school, has had our academic career built by studying white man’s literature. And this has had an effect on how we view every single thing we consume. We are trying to find what makes “Trick Baby” or “Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song” literary canon. When we forget that literary canon, as defined by a quick google search, is “the body of high culture literature, music, philosophy, and works of art that is highly valued in the West: works that have achieved the status of classics.” It is not fair for us to view these books and compare them to classics when classics were made by people that had different experiences than these characters and authors of the books we are reading. We grasp onto themes like nostalgia, descent into darkness, and femme fatale to define everything that we read and will continue to read for this class. The problem is that these themes don’t include everything and I can see how that is a reason for our struggle in communicating. However, I don’t think these are all the reasons for our silence.
The themes mentioned previously can’t answer everything that this field of study has to offer but when trying to broaden this idea of Noir our ability to understand it brings the question of: how do we rewire our brains to appreciate these books for what they are? I think we all have an idea of how to answer this question but since the content that we have read is so explicit we feel like we can’t add anything, and if we do add anything we are afraid that this thought will be challenged and we are unable to defend our opinions. This lack of defense or justification scares us into silence. We are the generation that was raised believing we are the “gifted and talented” and that our worth relies on our brains so when challenged sends us into a spiral of doubt, fear, and anger. The culture that we are brought up in has made us overly cautious of what we say and I am not saying that is a bad thing but I know for me as someone that can’t relate to the characters, I fear that I may say something that is insensitive and ignorant which contributes to the feeling of I have no place to say something. I know that I am not the only one who feels this. I don’t have a full solution to these problems and I may be leaving something out that is crucial to solving this, so please share your own ideas in the comments.

In American society millions of children and young adults read certain coming-of-age stories that. Translating to “novels of education” in German, bildungsromans often shed light on the trials and tribulations of becoming an adult. But bildungsromans are not just any kind of coming-of-age story; they focus on the social and psychological growth of a lost child who transforms into a mature adult. The stages of the bildungsroman includes loss, journey, conflict, and maturity. Iceberg Slim’s Trick Baby is best read as a formulaic bildungsroman that adopts a new moral order of the underworld instead of conforming to that of white mainstream society in the 1960s.

Even the title of Slim’s controversial yet captivating novel suggests that the protagonist has already lost something essential: his identity. Born as Johnny O’Brien Jr. to a thrill-chasing white drummer and a love-struck black mother, the protagonist is cruelly taunted by the black children in his South Side neighborhood of Chicago. The children dub him “Trick Baby,” a devious nickname that implies that he is the child of a prostitute and her client. Yet the protagonist protests that his parents were married when they conceived him. He soon loses the presence of his father, however; he and his mother Phala are left with nothing. After being ostracized by the black children in his neighborhood for passing as white, the protagonist feels a sense of longing for a paternal figure.

Yet the protagonist’s journey begins when he meets Blue, a seasoned con artist who christens him “White Folks.” To the two of them, this nickname affirms the protagonist’s identity as a black man as well as a black pimp, thereby affirming his masculinity and identity. White Folks leaves behind the stigma of “Trick Baby” and his supposedly-expendable black maternal figure Phala by accepting Blue as the paternal figure he has always longed for. In this way White Folks and Blue begin a decades-long con game that eventually reaches its climax as the former falls madly in love with “the Goddess.” Camille embodies the mythical angel version of the femme fatale and the feminine ideal in White Folks’ eyes; they reflect each other’s whiteness. Camille also represents the forbidden fruit for the black man. She is white, married, and older than him. Yet White Folks reaches maturity when he loses Camille; he allows her father to trick him into exposing his racial identity. Slim restigmatizes his blackness while lamenting White Folks’ loss of his white identity. Consequently, White Folks vows to view sex as transactional only. He truly becomes the pimp, and his bildungsroman completes its cycle.

A pimp is a man who controls prostitutes and arranges clients for them, in turn taking a portion of the profits. But the identity of the pimp goes far beyond the job description. A pimp is an all-encompassing identity. Characterized by stylish, flamboyant outfits and over-the-top personalities, most pimps are hard to miss. Their outfits consist of loud, extravagant, and highly feminized suits that could easily be associated with queer. However, the masculinity of these men are never in contention.

Masculinity is one of the main themes in the black noir genre. In the books, white males are automatically perceived to be masculine men. It is, however, the black male characters that are forced to prove their masculinity by their outwardly actions. In If He Hollers, Let Him Go, Bob struggles to find his manhood. All he wants is to be a man. To prove to himself and others that he is a man’s man, Bob does his best to dominate women, most importantly, white women. Additionally, the black man could not show any sign of weakness. In fact, Bob works in overtime to make sure all of his masculinity is on display and is not hesitant to pick a fight or vocally threaten others. However, the pimp character introduces a whole different type of manly men. In our latest book, Trick Baby, the author, Iceberg Slim, is a pimp. In all his pictures he is adorned in the feminized suit. Yet, even despite this “unmanly” expression, the masculinity of Iceberg Slim and other pimps like him is never doubted because of their extreme control over women. In a sense, pimps have an ownership of the women they manage. This is the type of domination that Bob strived for. Especially in the black community, the figure of the pimp has been revered. This is appropriate because of the ongoing process of proving that the black men are manly enough. The pimp would be the ultimate example because of the control that the black man has in the lives of their women not only their occupational opportunities but ultimately the majority of their lives, by taking profits and subjecting the women to whatever they discern to be acceptable.

Despite the feminine outward expression, Pimps maintained control over women that many black men desired, knowing that it was the valid proof that they needed to show they were manly enough.

In class, this Monday was the first time that I ever heard of the term “blaxploitation.” After thinking about the meaning and about how cleverly coined the term was – I started thinking about how this word referenced the exploitation of African Americans in the 1970s, but I didn’t quite understand where the exploitation lay. At first, I thought it was a way for African Americans to work the system to their advantage – to make a place for themselves in society. But now I think that interpretation is not fully accurate. After reading the chapters provided in the book “Street Players” by Kinohi Nishikawa I am starting to understand why the answer is more complex. Blaxploitation also helped make white men richer because of the business and potential it held. Disappointed, yes. Surprised, no. However, I admit that it can honestly be both reasons working together. According to Nishikawa, despite the fact that Los Angeles was located in California it still behaved like the south. It might not have been the “in your face” racism that it was notorious for, but it still was reminiscent of what life was like during Jim Crow. Years of racism doesn’t just get healed quickly, in fact, I think the hateful culture of that time adapted to keep the same harmful beliefs forced on the people of today for an agenda. Today’s exploitation just wears a different mask for its masquerade. I would call this mask the fake woke era. As Nishikawa puts it, “masquerade was the object of readers’ fascination: a performance taken up by urban black man…to make a way out of no way…[and] was a way for white man to see themselves as black.”  I would argue that the era of blaxploitation is an example in our history repeating itself in today’s fake woke era – creating another mask to keep up with the test of time. I couldn’t help but think of a rap song that gained popularity in 2021 called “Fake Woke” by Tom MacDonald. He states,

They never freed the slaves, they realized that they don’t need the chains
They gave us tiny screens, we think we’re free ’cause we can’t see the cage
They knew that race war would be the game they need to play
For people to pick teams, they use the media to feed the flame

Noir is a portal to what life was like in our history. Some of Noir, or more like most of Noir, had moments that didn’t age well. Through Noir, other genres were created and others were able to be defined. Blaxploitation entered the stage through films like Sweet Sweetback’s badass song and was made for primarily black audiences, but just like all good things, it gets corrupted when money, power, and hate get involved. I think that blaxploitation was created for African Americans to make a name for themselves but was exploited by others for money. Now doesn’t that narrative sound familiar to today’s woke culture? Woke culture was created as a way to be alert to any form of discrimination. Anything good created has an opposite. So as a result the discrimination became like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. There’s a movie on Netflix that is a good example of “fake woke” called “Do Revenge.” (Highly recommend it) The fake woke era is just our history repeating itself. We have blaxploitation as our reluctant teacher.

“And its strange when we die, our folks like to rejoice, but when it comes to the living, that’s it”

This quote from the priest in Sweet Sweetback’s Badasssss Song displays an interesting aspect of black noir: Religion. Christianity is an integral part of black culture. As a person who grew up in a black Baptist church with parents who were very active in the church, the Christian morality and idioms and phrases from the church are ingrained in my mind.  If we look back to `If He Hollers Let Him Go, Bob invokes his religion when he feels secure in his relationship with Alice saying, “Peace Father, it is truly wonderful”.  In Sweetback, religion is present everywhere – from the opening scene with the hymn being sung, to the women chanting during Sweetback’s running scenes – religion is the heartbeat beneath the scenes of violence and fear. It can be interpreted as a way for black culture to fight against their mistreatment in society. Religion helps to give black people peace of mind, like the Priest said. He gives them an escape. There is the other idea of religion though, that it is a white morality that has been placed upon the black body. Which is why, I think, the priest vows to say a black Hail Mary. It would be interesting to investigate whether or not religion is an escape from a harsh reality, or if it is just another form of oppression. The film Sweet Sweetback’s Badasssss Song holds both ideas at the same time. 

The noir genre calls explicitly for a departure from what Christian teaching deems “right” and moral. By their nature, noir works of fiction live in a world that Christianity does not exist, so when it ends up in a book or film, the contrast between the two worlds should be examined. In both Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song and the portion of Trick Baby that we read for Wednesday’s class, Christianity makes an appearance.

A notable similarity between Christianity’s role in Sweet Sweetback and Trick Baby is how they play a role in familiarizing the audience with the otherwise unrecognizable world of the margins. We have constantly hearkened back to this concept of the margins as at least partially defining noir. The reality of that part of society, though, is that it is known by relatively few. In a way, the foreign nature of it is part of the reason for the genres success – the audience is taken into a world that does not have the same rules and codes as they are used to. The appearance of Christianity brings the audience back towards a more familiar world. When Sweetback ends up back at a church, for example, the audience understands the setting better than when he visits the safe house of the biker gang or when he is in the brothel as a boy. Similarly, when Blue and White Folks encounter the man yelling about Jesus Christ, the audience meets their first familiar character. That is, people are generally more familiar with someone preaching and yelling about Jesus than they are with jewelry scammers.

An interesting point of contrast between both instances is how the preeminent Christian of each story treats the main character. In the case of Sweetback, he is turned away by the pastor who is worried that harboring the fugitive will get his parish and its rehab center shut down. Sweetback’s reception is one of unqualified rejection. Blue and White Folks are welcomed into the home of the Christian man though. Such obviously different receptions of criminals on the part of Christians appearing in these stories is certainly interesting because it makes one consider whether this perhaps sheds light on a difference of opinion on Christianity between the authors or if it is simply a narrative choice in each case that the authors felt was best for their respective stories. Personally, I believe it is the former, and I think that this is unfortunate because I think it points toward a larger view of Christianity that has taken hold of America in the last century. Sweetback’s rejection at the Church, if an intentional critique of churches by the author, indicates the rejection that the author believed someone like Sweetback would most likely receive. Such a belief stems from the natural imperfection of humanity that many call “hypocrisy” on the part of Christians because they wonder how could someone who claims to follow Christ reject someone in need like Sweetback. The Gospels make it clear that Jesus draws sinners and the poor close to him – he invites those who are weary to find rest in him.

While it is undeniably true that the living church on Earth falls short of this calling constantly, I think it is unfortunate that this is often used as an indictment on the church as a whole. Rather than allowing for the imperfection of the humans within Christianity, the attitude today seems to be something akin to throwing out the baby with the bath water. An obvious modern example is the sexual abuse scandal within Catholicism. Many have reacted to this scandal by writing off the Catholic Church as fully evil and without any merit. In reality, we are experiencing the imperfection of humanity as stewards of the faith that Christ left. The idea of Christianity as bearing no good fruit whatsoever seems, to me, to be the approach that the writer/director of Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song takes. While this may well be his lived experience, I remain hopeful that faith can make a comeback despite the imperfections of those who profess it, but do not live it.