The Ethics of Surrealism: Race, Ethnography, and Black Art

Introduction

Brent Hayes Edwards's article The Ethnics of Surrealism, published in Transition (No. 78, pp. 84–135), is a scholarly, critical, and occasionally esoteric review of publications and journals representing surrealism and audacity in art. The piece is complete with bold, sometimes outrageous contrasts between white and black, the grotesque and the ordinary, and ethnography juxtaposed with Western artistic genres. The narrative is presented eloquently from the point of view of an intellectually inclined African-American professor of literature and art who condemns bias whether subtle or obvious.

Summary of Edwards's Argument

Woven into the piece and between the lines like a tapestry is Edwards's brilliance as a critic of cultural ignorance, racial stereotypes, racism, and words that misjudge Africans—such as "primitive" and "negritude." Edwards's mistrust of ethnic discourse from other critics who fail to correctly link surrealism and the black experience is brought out in a narrative that rarely attacks directly but is always chipping away at received assumptions.

Throughout the long piece, Edwards educates the reader about publications that feature surrealism and ethnicity, and he contributes substantial information about the essayists and critics who comment on the art and photography that appear in those publications. Through his rich historical narrative and use of juxtaposition—setting grotesque photographs against bold art images and ethnographic realism—Edwards demands strict attention to what he is presenting.

Edwards offers great detail on Georges Bataille's surrealist journal Documents. Through descriptions of the fifteen issues of Documents (published in Paris between 1929 and 1930), he offers readers definitions and descriptions that relate to art and ethnicity in ways that jolt the senses. That is intentional. When framed next to startling art—such as dead flies squished on a sticky flypaper—Edwards's presentation is vividly original and compelling, though he can be cryptic and subtly caustic as well. The use of stark images, some sexually themed and some racially themed, grabs the reader's attention and embeds the images for later recall.

Among the most dramatic images Edwards presents is the scene in which black boxer Al Brown—fighting in the ring to raise money for the Dakar-Djibouti expedition to Africa—finds French guards posted at all four corners of the ring, "as though Brown's pugilistic prowess were some savage ritual on display" (86).

Key Themes: Race, Ethnography, and Surrealism

Edwards's research engages persistently with the tensions between "form" and "content" and between "ethnography" and "Western artistic practice." These are not merely aesthetic debates; for Edwards, they carry significant racial and political stakes. His analysis illuminates how surrealism intersected with the experiences of black artists, writers, and musicians who were living and working in Paris after World War I, and how European surrealists sometimes exoticized or misrepresented African and African-American subjects in ways that reinforced rather than challenged racial hierarchies.

Conclusion

Edwards's article is a classy work, difficult at times to fully understand. But anyone can understand that when jazz is called a "primitive art," it is a not-so-subtle way of admitting that the person making that remark is either biased or ignorant. Readers understand that, especially after reading Edwards's piece.