Van Vechten: White Negro Prototype

Carl Van Vechten, self-portrait

There's a new biography out about the intriguing Carl Van Vechten which has been receiving some attention in the media. Among the coverage, this review by Mark Reynolds at PopMatters is a must read. Van Vechten was a gay white man from Iowa who ended up as the "original white negro," as Reynolds describes him, some 30 years before Norman Mailer's landmark essay and nearly a century before Eminem staked out his turf as a kick-ass rapper. Beginning in the 20s, Van Vechten immersed himself in Harlem, going way past the Cotton Club, and he was a top-notch talent spotter, introducing Paul Robeson and Langston Hughes to white society.

A bit of a provocateur, he just couldn't help himself and named his novel of the Harlem experience Nigger Heaven. Sorry Quinton Tarantino, someone got there first. He even knew better, explaining in a footnote: “While this informal epithet is freely used by Negroes among themselves, not only as a term of opprobrium but also actually as a term of endearment, its employment by a white person is always fiercely resented.”

Reynolds' piece is so well written, I'll quote his conclusion at length, but please do read the whole thing, especially since there is so much more on the subject that's interesting.

The controversy over Nigger Heaven was a turning point for Van Vechten. He would publish two more novels, but never delve so deeply into black culture in his writing. In fact, his muse shifted away from writing during the ‘30s and to photography. He spent many years inviting the famous and the attractive to his studio for portraits. Some were old friends and associates, others were among the new generation of the famous and notorious. One of those latter folks, White reports, was none other than Norman Mailer.

Although Van Vechten was ultimately much more than a cultural thrillseeker or racial poseur, his story is instructive for all those White Negroes and wannabees out here today. Yes, you can mix and match black signifiers in your walk, your talk, your dress, your choice of music. Yes, you can proclaim yourself in solidarity with black people, and black people may well take you into their hearts and homes. You can befriend them, you can love them, you can even marry one. Whatever you need to do to proclaim your non-middle American-ness, go for it. It’s a free country.

Just be mindful that there remains a line that can’t be crossed. You may identify with the black world, but you won’t ever actually be black (and thus have to face the daily societal indignities black skin begets). And in any circumstance, think long and hard before any permutation of the n-word passes through your lips.

Having said all this, Reynolds concludes that Van Vechten's contributions on the whole were worthwhile. "Like it or not, and not without some missteps," writes Reynolds, "he indeed earned his ghetto pass."