I am not a scholar. Neither am I an artist.
Chinua Achebe is a scholar. Edel Rodriguez is an artist.
Being a novelist Chinua Achebe is an artist as well, but let that aspect stand aside for the time being because what now concerns me is his collection of essays named “Hopes and Impediments – Selected essays” and the Book Cover designed by Edel Rodriguez for that commendable collection of essays.
As we know Achebe is perhaps one among the loud voices that proclaim that black isn’t synonymous with ‘Impediments’ and white with ‘Hopes’. In fact almost all the essays in that collection touches on that topics – how can we enhance the dialog between the White Europe and the Black Africa, how sad it is to have superstitious and harmful fictions like the color black is not as good as colorlessness, how we can retell the hard asserted fables of the White Europeans about the Black Africa, how can we cleanse the mind of Africa (and of Asia's too, if with a reader's freedom I can add so) off the stains left in its mirrors by the colonialists.
But the sketch of Edel Rodriguez that is used as the front cover of the book “Hopes and Impediments” (Anchor books, Random House Inc, New York) seems either like a paradox or an underhand effort by artistic history and common aesthetic tradition to undermine the efforts of Achebe.
The sketch depicts two trees growing out from black soil (everything began from African soil). A white tree and a black tree (essentially the White and the Black civilizations). The main trunk of both are cut (perhaps showing that after the Europe’s sins towards Africa/Asia both the civilizations have lost their main trunks – they cannot perhaps grow to their full growth). The cross section of the cut black tree is white and the cross section of the cut white tree is black (perhaps showing the deep divide between the black and the white). There are two branches growing out from the stump from both the trees and intertwined. The black tree is as big as the white tree. The red background eludes my thought (perhaps the Artist’s affinity towards that color).
So far so good. But the twist comes when the handwritten words give name to the book. The word “Hopes” is imprinted in white against the red background and the word “Impediments” is painted in black against the red background. We cannot interfere with the Artist’s freedom and say that you should do this and that. But we can easily notice this aspect and wonder how and when will the words and efforts of Achebe percolate to the world of art and alter its base foundations and preconceived notions and meanings of colors. If both the words were written in the same color (be it be white or black) we wouldn’t have noticed the usage of colors in this matter. The artistic/aesthetic tradition has chosen to express itself through the artist and forced him to choose white for hope and black for impediments.
Like a comic mask that hides the tragic emotions of a face, the sketch in the front cover undermines the intellectual and emotional efforts of Achebe’s words.
The artist cannot be blamed. If we are so much inclined to point fingers maybe we shall blame the aesthetic tradition of associating Black with ‘Impediments’, maybe it is too difficult to blame anything. It is how things are. The artist, surely, is innocent like his art. But still this aspect sticks out rather conspicuously. And sadly.
