There is little beauty in this region, only a sort of crude abandon that suggests power,—a naked grandeur, as it were.
W.E.B. Du Bois: “There is little beauty in this region, only a sort of crude abandon that suggests power,—a naked grandeur, as it were.”
Editor's note · Context
From his travelogue in the rural South, Du Bois reflects on the stark, raw character of the landscape.
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Our song, our toil, our cheer, and warning have been given to this nation in blood-brotherhood.
Let the ears of a guilty people tingle with truth, and seventy millions sigh for the righteousness which exalteth nations, in this drear day when human brotherhood is mockery and a snare.
The silently growing assumption of this age is that the probation of races is past, and that the backward races of to-day are of proven inefficiency and not worth the saving.
Around us the history of the land has centred for thrice a hundred years; out of the nation’s heart we have called all that was best to throttle and subdue all that was worst; fire and blood, prayer and sacrifice, have billowed over this…