[In the following review, Costello admires Post-Prison Writings and Speeches for its frank approach to American race relations.]

Fr. Harold Salmon, the young, soft-spoken black pastor named last year to serve as vicar of Harlem by New York Archbishop Terence J. Cooke, had some advice in the course of an interview a few weeks ago for anyone who wanted to understand the racial problem. "Listen to Stokely Carmichael," he said, "and listen to Eldridge Cleaver. Try to understand how anyone could get this angry."

Well, here is Mr. Cleaver, and angry is hardly the word. He is here apparently unabridged and certainly unexpurgated, setting down and elaborating upon, in unequivocal terms, some of the things the Black Panthers have on their minds. This [Eldridge Cleaver: Post-Prison Writings and Speeches] is a partial collection of Eldridge Cleaver's writings over the last two or three years—magazine pieces, speeches and other items—as well as a reprint of an in-depth interview of Cleaver conducted by Playboy magazine. Some, but not all, of the articles have been written since the spectacular success of Soul on Ice, in which Cleaver described the incidents in his early life that brought him to his current state of mind.

That state of mind, for one not familiar with it, is intense and uncompromising. It is summarized clearly when he says: "The genie of black revolutionary violence is here, and it says that the oppressor has no rights which the oppressed are bound to respect. The genie also has a question for white Americans: which side do you choose? Do you side with the oppressor or with the oppressed? The time for decision is upon you. The cities of America have tasted the first flames of revolution. But a hotter fire rages in the hearts of black people today: total liberty for black people or total destruction of America."

During the nine years he spent in prison for rape (a crime he analyzed as a symbol of rebellion, "an insurrectionary act"), Eldridge Cleaver was first enchanted and then disillusioned by the Black Muslims. He organized a class in Afro-American history, based largely on the writings of Malcolm X. and began to write himself—primarily autobiographical notes.

He developed his theory that only political revolution could save the black people, and upon his release from prison discovered in the Black Panther party an organization devoted to the same ideals. ("It was," he confides, "literally love at first sight.") The party gave Cleaver an ideological home and, in co-founders Huey Newton and Bobby Seale, both friends and heroes. Cleaver, in return, provided the party with explosive political oratory and magazine articles that had a great deal to do with making the Black Panthers, for better or worse, a household phrase.

Ramparts magazine served as an important base for Cleaver during this period, and the pieces that appear here are Ramparts pieces. (Robert Scheer, former Ramparts editor, compiled and edited this collection, and contributed a lengthy introduction, which puts Cleaver and his writings into clear perspective.)

As most readers certainly recall, Cleaver's difficulties with the law continued during his parole, and last November, when California authorities ultimately demanded his return to prison, Cleaver disappeared from public view. The encounters that led to his departure are described at some length—reflecting no great credit upon the Oakland Police Department or the California penal system.

A reader can approach the collection with cool objectivity, and if he does so he is likely to come away unimpressed, or unappreciative. There are contradictions, for one thing. At one point. Cleaver is saluting Adam Clayton Powell, not as the nation's most ideal Congressman but as a symbol of black political power; at another point, he says he opposes him. Similarly, one questions the logic of ascribing the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King to his compromising, nonviolent policies, in view of the fact that Malcolm X met the same fate. And most readers—certainly most white readers—are not going to understand Cleaver's defense of Black Panther demands that the jails be emptied of all black men, or that blacks be excused from military service.

On the other hand, a reader can surrender himself to Cleaver; can listen, as Fr. Salmon suggested, to what he has to say. It is hard reading, bitter and unpleasant—but if it is discouraging, it is not totally without hope.

In view of all that has gone on, is going on, and will continue to go on, that kind of reader is going to find himself asking again and again, as Eldridge Cleaver does: Which side do you choose?