Dudley Randall with Black Books Bulletin (interview date Winter 1972)

SOURCE: “Interviews: Dudley Randall,” in Black Books Bulletin, Vol. 1, No. 2, Winter, 1972, pp. 23-6.

[In the following interview, Randall discusses the influence the Harlem Renaissance poets had on his own work, explains his goals and philosophy as a publisher of black poetry, and talks of his aim to promote black literature and black consciousness.]

Dudley Randall was born January 14, 1914 in Washington, D.C. He studied in the public schools of Washington, D.C., East St. Louis, and Detroit. In 1949, he received a B.A. degree from Wayne State University and in 1951 an M.A. in Library Science from the University of Michigan. Currently Brother Randall is serving as librarian and poet-in-residence at the University of Detroit. He is the author of four books of poetry including Poem Counterpoem, written along with Margaret Danner, Cities Burning (1968), Love You (1970) and More to Remember (1971). The last volume is a selection of all of Brother Randall's writing covering a span of forty years. He has edited three volumes of poetry, two of which are of special interest. The first, For Malcolm, co-edited with Margaret Burroughs, was the first and only volume of poetry dedicated totally to the memory of El Hajj Malik Shabazz, and the second, Black Poetry, was the first anthology of black poetry to be published by a black publishing company. Brother Randall has traveled extensively in the Soviet Union in 1966 as a member of a delegation of black artists and in 1970 to Ghana, Togo and Dahomey. In West Africa, Brother Randall studied African arts and literature at the University of Ghana. The brother has always been at the forefront of the movement and has expressed in his concrete actions our need for independent institutions. In 1965, Brother Randall founded Broadside Press in Detroit, Michigan. Broadside Press is the first major, successful black publishing venture to deal in depth and quality with the poetry of contemporary black poets. Just about every major black poet to emerge out of the Sixties sprouted with Broadside Press.

[Black Books Bulletin:] I notice the title of your latest collection of poetry is More to Remember. What was it like coming up black and a poet when blackness was not in vogue? How would you assess your growth as a poet?

[Randall:] That title More to Remember, incidentally, comes from my poem “Souvenirs” which itself means “memories” or “to remember.” If nobody else thinks my lines are epigrammatic enough to use as titles, at least I can make an effort in that direction. About growing up black, I don't think we should confuse “words” with substantive things. We said Negro then instead of black, but it meant the same thing. Instead of “black pride,” we had “race pride.” A roomer in my home was the janitor at Marcus Garvey's U.N.I.A. Hall down Russell Street, and he had me help him clean the hall after the meetings, and I heard the men talk and saw the parades. My father took me and my brothers to hear W. E. B. DuBois, Walter White, James Weldon Johnson and others. He always called them “great men.” Of course, we kids would have preferred to play baseball or see a movie, but as I grew older I was glad my father had taken me to see our giants. My father also managed the campaigns or was active in the campaigns of black office-seekers. None of them were elected, and people said he was butting his head against a stone wall. It wasn't until after his death that Detroit elected its first black official. I've composed poetry since I was four. I was thirteen when I started writing seriously and studying other poets. In my neighborhood, prizefighters, not poets, were respected. I wrote my poetry secretly and hid it under a loose plank in the attic.

How much did the so-called “Harlem Renaissance” influence your growth?

Although my first book of poetry was not published until 1966, I'm the same age as poets of the Post Renaissance period, like Brooks, Hayden, and Walker. There was no group of black poets prior to the Renaissance, so we had to study the Renaissance poets. When I was thirteen, my father gave us a copy of Copper Sun. When I was sixteen I bought Cane and was moved by Toomer. I also read Cullen's anthology Caroling Dusk and Kerlin's anthology. Of course I read other poets too, the ones we studied in school, but my reading wasn't confined to school assignments. I heard Countee Cullen read at old Detroit City College, and heard Langston Hughes read. Bob Hayden was bold enough to invite him to lunch and to show him his poetry, but I was too much in awe of the great man even to shake his hand.

As publisher of Broadside Press, you have published scores of promising writers who have matured. Did the absence of a Broadside Press or Third World Press in your day dilute the literary talent?

There were no markets. Opportunity folded and Crisis ceased publishing poetry. However, I wasn't much concerned with publishing. I wrote because I enjoyed writing, and was learning how to write. When I would show Robert Hayden a new poem and he would ask where I was going to publish it, I'd be amazed. Why was he so eager to be published? As a result of our varying attitudes, his first book was published in 1940, mine in 1966. But Bob doesn't allow his early poems to be reprinted now.

Often we get the initial artistic efforts from young Blacks. Would you have any advice for them as artist and publisher?

I think young writers shouldn't rush into print with things they'll want to suppress ten years later. If it's good now, it'll be good twenty years from now. They can hold it and work on it a while. I think they should study their markets. Broadside receives plays and fiction, although we specialize in poetry. Obviously the authors haven't bothered to find out about Broadside. Writers should present their work in a professional manner. Misspelled words and bad grammar indicate the writer hasn't learned the mechanics of writing, and is a slovenly, careless writer. Of course, I lean over backwards to make sure I don't overlook some illiterate genius, but most of the time such a writer is just not serious about his craft. Some writers purposely misspell to convey the sound of black talk. Sonia Sanchez went through all the galleys of It's a New Day changing the present participles from “ing” to “en”.

What are you trying to do, as a publisher, in publishing what you do?

Several things. I'm trying to encourage poetry, because I like poetry. I'm trying to give people joy, because poetry gives joy. I'm helping to create black literature, and pride in black literature, therefore, pride in ourselves. I'm helping to create black consciousness, and values for black people to live by.

The Broadside Critics Series with James A. Emanuel as General Editor has recently made its appearance with Don L. Lee's Dynamite Voices, Volume I. What is the purpose of the series, and who are the other authors and what topics will they be dealing with?

The purpose of the series is to have black critics study black poets. White critics have ignored and overlooked black poets, or have treated them with arrogance, condescension, and lack of understanding. So, we'll criticize ourselves ourselves. Similar background and experiences should make for empathy and understanding. Don Lee is writing Part 2 of Dynamite Voices. Addison Gayle, Jr.'s Claude McKay is at the printer's. Sarah Webster Fabio is writing on Margaret Walker. Lance Jeffers is writing on Countee Cullen. We'll have other critics do other poets, when we find the right critics for the poets.

We heard that Gwendolyn Brooks is exclusively with Broadside now? Is that true? And when can the public expect her autobiography?

Not exclusively, since she's given a children's book to Third World Press. But she offered her work to us, because she believes in what we're doing. She's working on her autobiography, and when she finishes we'll be proud to publish it. In the meantime, the first chapter will be published in McCall's December issue, and another chapter in the Chicago Sun-Times.

What is the purpose of the Broadside Series?

The purpose has changed. First, it was to present well-known poems by black poets in an attractive format. Then we started publishing new poems, to help new poets. This year we've started publishing more than one poet in a Broadside. We'll change as we go along. But it's a convenient format in which to present a classic, a timely poem, a new poem, a new poet, or a group of poems or poets.

Recently we read where Gwendolyn Brooks is doing a Broadside Treasury. But does Broadside Press plan to do a major anthology of Black Literature which is historical?

No, because historical anthologies are boring. I publish poems because they're good, not because they're historical. Besides, we couldn't afford to pay the permissions. I've done The Black Poets for Bantam Books, Inc., which is more or less historical, since it ranges from the spirituals to Stephany, but most of the purely historical poems I've left out, and tried to include good poems.

How much progress do you see in Black Writing since the crusade of blackness pumped energy into a whole generation of young writers around 1966? Are the young writers seriously dealing with their craft?

As always, you have some original poets and many imitators who are getting on the bandwagon. The best poets are seriously concerned with their craft. Carolyn Rodgers has tackled the problem of language. Much of the new poetry is oral. I think one problem is getting down on paper what sounds good when read aloud. Often it is flat and banal on the page. One word or phrase chanted over and over with different voices and different intonations may sound exciting when heard, but is it poetry? Is, for instance, “Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die,” poetry? Does it have any meaning? Isn't it somewhat verbose? Is a locomotive football cheer, which is certainly stirring, poetry? Is beating a drum poetry? Of course, this isn't new. Poe did it ages ago with his “Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells.” That's why Emerson called him the “jingle man.” Perhaps you could call it “hypnotic poetry,” where the reiteration of a phrase hypnotizes the reader. I'm not damning it, only raising questions for the poets to answer.

What are the major problems a small Black press faces? Do you see a great future for those Blacks bold enough to venture into the publishing business?

Major problems are: (1) financing, (2) collecting what is owed them. These are interrelated. The books sell, and if the publishers were promptly paid, they could afford to issue larger printings and larger books at lower unit cost and thus publish more books and larger printings. Banks are averse to lend, and anyway independent publishers don't want to borrow or to beg for grants. My own method is to finance out of what comes in. I still haven't solved the problem of collection. If half of what is owed me were paid, I could pay off the printer and still have enough to finance more books. There are great possibilities in publishing, not so much in money as in achievements. Books contain ideas, and ideas move the world.

A neglected area seems to be poetry written for and by young Blacks, particularly those at the incipiency of adolescence. Do you and Broadside Press plan to publish things for and by young Blacks?

Sonia Sanchez's It's a New Day is for young brothers and sisters. Gwendolyn Brooks’ Aloneness is for children, but it's so rich and imaginative that both adolescents and adults will enjoy it, too. Lori Lunceford is an adolescent who appears in one of our broadsides. I would say we publish for young blacks and are willing to publish things by young blacks if they are well written. Generally, in accepting poetry, I go by the excellence of the poem, not by the age of the poet.

We understand that Broadside Press will publish Gwendolyn Brooks’ Black Position. What is it? And what is it trying to do?

It was Miss Brooks’ idea to present position papers by black leaders on matters of concern to the black community. They would present current black thinking and thus suggest alternatives and help solve problems of the black community.

What young writers do you expect to do great things in the future?

Traits that indicate promise are: strong motivation, love of words, (since they are the poet's medium), seriousness, dedication to craftsmanship, willingness to study, learn, grow and change, health, stamina, and staying power. There are many writers I could name: Baraka, Knight, Lee, Giovanni, Sanchez, Rodgers, Charley Cobb, Sam Greenlee, Sterling Plumpp, Arthur Pfister, Ishmael Reed, Lucille Clifton, and many more. We are very proud of poets whose first books we are publishing in 1972, … Lynn Levy, Judy Simmons, Pearl Lomax, and Jill Witherspoon.

What are your views about Broadside Press doing an anthology of unpublished writers yearly?

We plan to do this. In January we'll publish A Broadside Annual 1972, and we'll do this every year, including unpublished or seldom-published poets.

Will Broadside Press ever do novels?

We're planning five and ten years ahead. We plan, eventually, to broaden into non-poetry, including novels. We intend to limit the number of books we publish so we can give more attention to planning, editing, advertising, and distribution of each title. Steps in this direction are Bill Odarty's A Safari of African Cooking, scheduled for December, 1971, and Miss Brooks’ autobiography.

How have Broadside publications been received in the international market?

Our books sell in Africa, Europe, the Caribbean, Latin America, Canada, Mexico, Australia, and New Zealand.

You've been the first Black publisher to give young writers national exposure. Keeping this in mind, why after the initial aid do some of the better known leave and go to the larger white publishing companies, especially when people like Gwendolyn Brooks are leaving white houses and coming to the Black companies? There seems to be an inherent contradiction here.

I could compose a book on this question. Perhaps they have an inferiority complex that makes them believe that nothing black is good unless whites put the stamp of approval on it. So they run to big publishers at the first opportunity, to show they're accepted by the Establishment. But I'll dwell on the positive, not on the negative. All writers are human, and human beings have a tremendous range of values. Writers like Don Lee, Gwendolyn Brooks, Sonia Sanchez are committed to liberation, nation-building, not ego-tripping and getting rich. Other writers agree with Jerry, a character in Chest's The Marrow of Tradition. “I'm gwine ter keep my mouf shet an’ stan’ in wid de Angry-Saxon race, … an’ keep on de right side er my bread an’ meat. W'at nigger ever give me twenty cents in all my bawn days?” Power doesn't always confront you with machine guns and tear gas. Sometimes it seduces with free lunches and dinners, flattery, fat advances, promises of beautifully printed books, fame and fortune. Who said that liberation was easy? Malcolm X and Martin Luther King were shot to death. Sékou Touré said, “We'd rather be poor and free than rich and slaves.”

When I pointed out to Gwen Brooks that Broadside Press couldn't give her the advertising and distribution that big publishers could, it only irritated her. Don Lee would brush aside such considerations. When a critic asked Sonia Sanchez why she didn't switch to a big publisher, she said, “She don't know Broadside Press is the baddest. …. …. … . … press today.” With stalwarts like these, I can let the others go. They'll just leave more room for the truly committed.

The committed writers don't have to give us all their books. John Killens is doing a biography of Alexander Pushkin, which I can't afford to publish, but he promised me a children's book on Pushkin, which I can afford. In this way, writers can help us build publishing institutions for the black community.

Still, I don't think writers should come to us just because we're black. I think we should develop such expertise and efficiency that we can speak to the others in terms they can relate to, … that is, fame and money.

To look over your list of authors, one would say that you have most of the known Black poets in America writing today. How do you account for such a list? Also, do you feel yourself threatened by the newer Black publishers such as Third World Press of Chicago, Drum and Spear of Washington, D.C., Jihad of Newark, etc.?

The same way black minor league managers got such great players as Josh Gibson and Satchell Paige. The whites wouldn't have ‘em. So they came to Broadside. I am glad for every good book the other publishers put out. Every publishing company has its own personality, and attracts writers congenial to it. Drum and Spear favors children's books, Jihad is concerned with nation-building, Third World is interested in education, Broadside specializes in poetry. Perhaps, and I may be wrong, we're the most literary of the publishers, and writers interested in creating good literature will gravitate to us. But I feel there's room for us all. After all, I receive at least 200 manuscripts a year, and can publish only ten or twenty. That leaves 180 or 190 for the other publishers.