Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2016. xxiv, 262 pp. (Map, figures.) US$24.95, paper. ISBN 978-0-8223-6066-7.
Ignorance about the world beyond their shores was a feature common to many US intellectuals during the early Cold War period, whether taking the form of unbridled confidence in their development models or in dismissing the value of social mores they were unfamiliar with. It also posed no hindrance to their travels nor curtailed the authority of their pronouncements. The famous African-American writer Richard Wright was no exception. The Color Curtain, a “report” of his visit to the Asia-Africa conference held in Bandung, Indonesia, in 1955, is as far removed from the extraordinary power and brilliance of his novels Black Boy and Native Son as one can imagine, yet it remains a go-to book for many scholars seeking to understand this historic conference. Wright, sitting in self-imposed exile in Paris when the conference was announced, was quick to realize the significance of the event, and, unlike his government, was not alarmed by the prospect of the free coloured nations of the world getting together. He was also self-aware enough to realize that since he knew nothing about Indonesia, the best he could do was hope that the common discriminations of racial prejudice would be a sufficient bridge between him and his hosts. Given this, Color Curtain can be read as a report of Wright’s discovery of a world beyond the Black Atlantic, with the conference becoming a means of expanding a relatively limited worldview, much as Malcolm X’s visit to Mecca a decade later would help de-parochialize the latter’s ideas of race, struggle, and universalism. At worst, the book stands as a reminder that for all his deep insight into the racial and economic contradictions of the United States and despite the universalism implied by joining the Communist Party, Wright reverted to being an American when he travelled to the developing world. There is perhaps no better realization of his limits than when we discover that the Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCR), a CIA front, paid for the celebrated author’s visit to Indonesia and had a significant role in shaping who he would meet. Wright never met the celebrated writer Pramoedya Ananta Toer, for example, although there is an excerpt of the latter’s writing included in the volume where he expresses his admiration for Wright’s work.
This carefully curated “sourcebook” on Wright and the Bandung Conference is primarily written for specialists on Richard Wright, the African-American writer, and to a far lesser extent for those who are interested in the intersections of Bandung and the cultural politics of the Cold War. The editors are careful to point out that Wright’s account of his visit is often at odds with others’ memories or what is more likely to have happened, and we are repeatedly reminded that Wright’s Indonesian interlocutors found him unable to get beyond a “black and white” view of the world. Contradictions abound: Wright chooses to stay with the American ambassador in Indonesia although he detests the fact that this ambassador is the grandson of slave owners. Throughout the volume, the editors wonderfully contextualize the period and the people Wright met; the net effect is to make the reader far more interested in Indonesia in the 1950s than Wright at Bandung.
Following an excellent introduction, where the editors identify the different compulsions and intersecting literatures involved in producing a book of this kind, including the burgeoning field of Asian-African studies, the volume is divided into three sets of readings. The first, entitled “Transnational Crosscurrents,” helps situate Indonesian knowledge of Wright’s work. It includes excerpts from an official account of the rise of modern Indonesian literature, an essay by Pramoedya where he comments on the power of Wright’s writing and his lack of concern with beauty, “None!” (47), and an essay by Beb Vuyk that introduces a variety of Western writers to an Indonesian audience. The latter essay unwittingly highlights the unevenness of global literary knowledge, and reminds us of the tacit privilege that comes from being an American author writing in English. It is impossible to imagine, for example, a similarly informed essay discussing literary debates taking place in Indonesia, or even Japan, then just emerging from American occupation, being published in Partisan Review (one of the journals Vuyk mentions approvingly, also CIA-funded) during this period. Beb Vuyk’s writing here and later in the volume is a revelation; her voice is clear and direct, and she sums Wright up in his host and fellow CCR grantee, Mochtar Lubis’s words, “the fellow is color crazy” (203).
Part 2, “An Asian-African Encounter,” discusses Wright’s reception in Indonesia during his three-week sojourn. The section includes newspaper articles mentioning him, an interview in the “prominent cultural affairs publication” (95) Gelanggang, a report on an extended conversation between Wright and members of the Konfrontasi literary movement, and a lecture given in Jakarta, all very well annotated by the editors. These texts are useful in identifying the distance between the kinds of questions that drove the “universal humanism” of the elite Konfrontasi group and contemporary concerns of Western writers.
The third and final section of the volume is entitled “In the Wake of Wright’s Indonesian Travels.” It has writings by Beb Vuyk, Asrul Sani, and Frits Kandou, all written shortly after Wright’s visit, but also includes a short excerpt by Goenawan Mohamad, “Politicians,” written in 1977, and an article about classic Bandung hotels written in 2005 in which Wright is mentioned. These last pieces point to one of the weaknesses of the volume, namely, a tendency to try and include every Indonesian mention of Wright, whether relevant or not, a temptation that the editors have unfortunately succumbed to a little too often. This is a pity because it draws attention away from their own writing, which is so informative and intelligent that it makes the quixotic task of locating Richard Wright in Bandung entirely worthwhile.
Itty Abraham
National University of Singapore, Singapore
pp. 628-630