Wednesday, November 19, 1997
What’s going on with this attempt?
BOOK:
Relying on others, Nathan McCall’s essays do not match
best-selling hit By J. Jioni Palmer
Daily Bruin Senior Staff
On the heels of his best-selling autobiography, "Makes Me Wanna
Holler," Nathan McCall follows with a disappointing, sophomoric
project, "What’s Going On." The Marvin Gaye-inspired title is about
the only thing "What’s Going On" shares with McCall’s debut book,
which was widely acclaimed and had excerpts featured in
Newsweek.
McCall uses the medium of "personal essays" to share his
"feeling that, as much as some people still like to downplay the
role of race in the country, as much as they would prefer to
emphasize how much ‘progress’ we’ve made, race remains America’s
foremost preoccupation."
A noble effort, but McCall falls miserably short. Fraught with
personal observations and devoid of any serious analysis, much of
"What’s Going On" reads like feature articles boosted from the
pages of the Washington Post, where McCall was formerly
employed.
McCall admits drawing upon his "reporting skills" to add "other
people’s observations about what’s going on," to his own. However,
in the process McCall misses the opportunity to dissect the
complicated issues he presents and offer real solutions. Instead of
drawing and stating his own conclusions, "What’s Going On" is full
of quotes taken from others, such as hip-hop artist Chuck D, or any
other person McCall may have encountered while promoting "Makes Me
Wanna Holler." McCall seems unable to escape from his role as a
journalist; he shines as a reporter, not an essayist.
When McCall does try to break from his hard-edged news style by
sounding folksy and "down with the people," he sounds just plain
corny. In the midst of a very serious discussion about the need for
writers, African American ones in particular, to publicly criticize
their own communities, McCall makes light of the issue in a
marginally funny way.
Describing the ostracism Alice Walker faced (and still does)
when her novel, "The Color Purple," was published, he writes:
"until things cool down, Home girl can forget about going down to
the corner bar to get a taste.
"And if she happens to drop in at the greasy spoon for a pig-ear
sandwich or collard greens, Alice had better order her food to go."
McCall’s unneeded levity detracts from an important discussion
about how the treatment Walker and other African American authors
received can stifle creativity.
For the most part, "What’s Going On" is a chaotic collection of
anecdotes drawn from McCall’s many life experiences. From a chance
encounter with Muhammad Ali to his own brushes with the law, McCall
relies on narratives rather than persuasive arguments to "represent
a sampling of what (he see’s) going on all around us." The problem
is that it’s nothing we can’t see ourselves. McCall is excellent at
telling stories and stating the obvious, but generally when it
comes to analysis, he leaves much to be desired.
The one exception to this is the chapter titled "Gangstas, Guns,
and Shot- ‘Em-Ups." Here, McCall decries the disastrous
consequences of so-called gangsta rap. He argues persuasively on
behalf of consumer and community rejection of the negative elements
of hip-hop. McCall’s critiques of hip-hop music and culture are the
most sincere around.
He makes no excuses for an art form that advocates and
perpetuates self-destructive behavior and genocidal tendencies. Yet
he recognizes the only way to bring an end to gansta rap is to
"change the grotesque universe the gangsta rappers sing about.
Offer a world so wondrous that it alters their jagged vision of
life. That would transform the music and alter the images our
children take in." McCall will force even the most ardent defenders
of gansta rap to rethink their position. "What’s Going On" reads
like it was thrown together to piggy-back on the success of "Makes
Me Wanna Holler." $21 is too much to spend for 205 pages of shallow
analysis. McCall should have saved his good name, by publishing
"Gangstas, Guns, and Shot-‘Em-Ups" by itself and left well enough
alone.