Book Review: "How To Make Love To A Negro Without Getting Tired" by Dany Laferriere

How To Make Love To A Negro by Dany Laferrière

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


“Making love to a Negro isn't frightening; sleeping with him is. Sleep is complete surrender. It's more than nude; it's naked. Anything can happen during the night, when reason sleeps.” - Dany Laferriere, How To Make Love To A Negro

the complete title of this book is how to make love to a negro without getting tired. apparently the combination of black men and white women bonking is fairly combustible subject matter the world over -- even canada's montreal, a place that constantly reassures us is free of racial tension/problems. mr. laferriere is well aware of all of this and works every bit of it to the hilt. what's interesting is the way he delves into why interracial relationships with white women are such a threat to white men. this book -- his first novel! -- is white hot brilliant and just as fresh and relevant as when it was published in 1985. this stuff is free-wheeling and provocative and it just pops right off the page.

i love the way he and his african roommate discuss classical literature and philosophy and art and sex and food and life, the way he dissects a coltrane solo while going off on some stream of consciousness rant about rich white people and how bizarre it is to wander through their mansions when they aren't there and have violent dispassionate sex with their seemingly chaste daughters, the way he listens to big band jazz and vocalists like ella fitzgerald as his thoughts slide between communism, the last white girl he had and how wierd she was, and marinating a pigeon he killed in the park for that week's last summer day because he's so perpetually broke. heh.

so much of this reads like stream-of-consciousness prose -- smart, insightful, bitter, and very very funny. it spun out so easily, like i fell into his private thoughts, and he let me stay there for as long as i wanted. because i read/heard/knew most if not all of what he referenced, the book became almost four dimensional and i enjoyed it even more. not surprisingly, there were critics who assumed a black man DIDN'T write it, because he would have to be a certain kind of literate/well read/educated to have referenced the things he did.

all in all, a really good read.

ps: if you want another kick in this direction, i highly recommend "heading south," (written by dany l.) set in the 70s about older white female tourists who go to the beaches of haiti to be sexually serviced by beautiful young boys.



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"black women who date interracially" - the support group!

someone sent me an invitation to a mixer for an organization called Black Women Who Date Interracially, or BWWDI for short. i don't know when it is exactly but i'm thinking about finding out and going, purely out of curiousity. this is a group that seems to go beyond the "sitting around talking about where are all the brothers" conflamma and gives a lot of support and encouragement to sisters who are reaching out in that direction. because evidently, they need it.

i guess i'd need it too, if i actually gave a crap about what anyone thought about who i was seeing. but whatever.

we all know the stats, don't we? as it stands, 70% of black women are single.



when they run over these numbers, no one launches into who isn't interested in marriage because they're gay/lesbians. hm. that would be an interesting documentary.

evidently, i can join this BWWDI group whether i'm married or not. they want supportive sisters, that's all. and i understand. but more and more i think that anyone's comfort level with interracial dating has everything to do with not just being open but also emotionally mature and grounded. you really have to know who you are and be sure of who you are. it's easy for me to not care because i know that all of those "other people" (the proverbial "them," i suppose) don't matter.

why do black women have to be so deliberate about interracial dating? do we really need a 12 step program, a support group, a prayer circle and a how-to manual to say yes when that white guy at work asks us out for the thousandth time?

good grief.

still and all, it's good that black women are discussing this stuff. i know i've posted about this before, but it bears repeating: it's not about dating the white guy, or a guy of any race, for that matter. it's about dating the cool guy, no matter what he looks like. whether the two of you are compatible and get along matters way more than what race he is.

then again, i don't know what i'm saying. there are still way too many black women who can't stand to look at themselves unless their hair is straightened...(check out that video above from the Oprah show. an audience full of black women, and not an afro or a dreadlock in the bunch!)

where this blackgrrl stands, part two -- "interracial dating" and the cool guy

i decided a long time ago that when it came to dating, i wanted someone that was basically a good guy, and i really didn't care what race he happened to be. finding a smart, decent, cool, God-fearing person would prove to be difficult enough. why cut my chances of meeting that special someone by setting up racial barriers? to my way of thinking, it just didn't make any sense.

i knew very early on in the dating game that just because a guy is an african-american, that didn't mean that he would understand me or "get" where i was coming from or get along with me -- or find me attractive. as a matter of fact, a lot of african-american guys find me patently unattractive because i don't straighten my hair -- believe it or not. (note: i said african-american. not west indian. not african. african-american. but i digress.) it's the wierdest thing, to walk through greenbriar mall in atlanta and watch black folk stop eating to stare at my hair.

here's an interesting sidebar: i don't straighten my hair because it is at its strongest and healthiest and most beautiful when its in its natural state. it's expensive to chemically treat it, too. do the math: if you trot to the beauty parlor every other week or so for a touch up, that money invested wisely long term could probably buy you a house or give you an early retirement situation in no time.

besides -- i don't think i should have to affect a white standard of beauty to be presentable. or pretty. if some african-american man thinks otherwise, that's his problem.

unconsciously, i realized that because i had essentially become the person i wanted to date, that's exactly what i usually attracted: men who wanted a cool girl, irrregardless of race. oh, there was the occasional righteous brother who preferred me with a perm, or who was genuinely disgusted that i'd dated "outside of my race." as far as i was concerned, that made them much easier to sort through. i didn't care how black or white or whatever he was. he's not cool, i'd casually observe. i cannot date him. and i would move on.

case in point?

years ago, some white guy was trying to chat me up at a party somewhere deep in the heart of brooklyn and i wasn't having it. somewhere in the midst of the conversation we were barely having, he told me that he only dated sisters. what baffled me is that he said it in this confidential "just between us" tone. the implication was that i had nothing to worry about because he understood who i was and where i was coming from -- he was familiar with me, with my culture, my people. bad move.

"who are you calling 'sisters,'" i snapped, "black women aren't sisters to you. you have to be a brother to say that." he vehemently disagreed. we were off to the races. i remember watching his face change as he realized how deep he'd stuck his foot in it. that's when i said, why would you only go out with black women, anyway?

to his credit, he tried very hard to explain himself. he went on about how beautiful black women are, how intelligent, how much more interesting they are than white women -- blah, blah, blah. as he went on, what i couldn't stop thinking was, there's some great looking white women out there that really are all that. why is he systematically excluding them? why would someone not date within their own race? it reeked of self-hate but he didn't see it that way. fortunately, i did.
(it's a preference, he said. no it's not, i countered. it's a fetish. amazing, the things people will say to justify themselves.)

my friend happens to be one of the coolest guys i've ever met. i think we're kind of spoiled because we're artists and we don't really live in america. we live and work in new york city -- a place where it's very easy to meet and hang out with people of different races and nationalities and cultures. here, your life can be as segregated or as diverse as you want it to be.

last night, i made my friend watch the online component of nbc's african-american women: where they stand series called love in black and white. he sat there quietly holding my hand, occasionally crinkling his nose in disapproval. when it was over, he said it sounded like the black women in question were dating white guys because black men weren't available. like the white guy was a consolation prize, and if some black guy came along, she would dump him. to his way of thinking, race is not a reason to date anybody.

and that's when the obvious struck me: it's really not about black women dating white men. it's about black women dating the cool guy. why wouldn't anyone say that on this segment? why can't anyone think it? they were so conditioned to think in terms of black and white that they couldn't see it any other way. ridiculous. it's a big world out there, ladies. lots of men, all over the world. the one for you could be anywhere. he could be anyone. a turkish businessman. a polish bar owner. a chinese chef.

it could very well be that the cool guy that God wants for you is probably in Prague right now, having a latte.